“I
think you still have some unfinished business regarding that night.
That’s all. “
He was right.
“I keep wondering about the pilot’s family,” she said.
Her cheek rested on her knee, and the words slipped slowly from her mouth.
“I don’t know anything about her life. I don’t know how she came to be a pilot at eighteen. I don’t know if she had sisters and brothers, or a boyfriend who thinks he can’t live without her. I don’t even know her name, although I probably knew it at the time of the accident. I wish I’d made an attempt to get in touch with her family. I was the last person with her. If I’d lost someone close to me, I’d want to know what their last minutes had been like. Although, in this case, it sure wouldn’t be comforting information. And I couldn’t tell them what really happened, just like I haven’t told anyone else.”
“Except me,” Rory said.
She opened her eyes and raised her head to smile at him.
“Except you,” she agreed.
He dropped his hand from her neck to his lap.
“Well, it isn’t too late, is it?” he asked.
“Don’t you think they’d appreciate hearing from you, even after all this time? If I were in their shoes, it would make me feel good that the EMT still cared so much about what happened. And maybe it would help you, Daria. Maybe you’d stop being haunted by it all.”
“I hadn’t really thought of doing that,” Daria said.
“I guess I’m afraid to, since I’d have to lie about what happened.”
“But wouldn’t you feel better to see that they’ve been able to go on with their lives? Assuming, of course, that they have been able to go on,” he said.
“I guess that would be the risk you’d take by getting in touch with them. But no matter what you found out, at least you’d be dealing with reality instead of your fantasy. I bet it would put an end to your nightmares.”
“Maybe I will,” Daria said, and the idea gave her some relief. Rory was right. It would be good to know, in concrete terms, exactly how the pilot’s family was faring.
They both started at the sound of a bark and turned toward the beach to see Linda and three of her dogs crossing the dune to the cul-de-sac. Linda waved when she saw them and continued walking toward her cottage, the panting of the dogs loud and harsh in the still air.
“Someone else is having trouble sleeping tonight,” Rory said.
ivory had planned to call Father Macy to speak with him about Shelly’s adoption, but the priest beat him to it. He called Rory and invited him in to “have a talk,” as he put it. Rory gave Shelly a ride to the church the morning of his appointment, since she was to start work at the same time. She was her usual, bubbly self in his car, chatting mostly about Zack, as if realizing his son was one of Rory’s favorite topics.
“He’s a terrific volleyball player,” Shelly said as Rory turned the car onto Route 158. “Not as good as me, but still pretty good.”
Rory had to laugh.
“You’re just like your sister, you know that?” he asked.
“She could beat me at anything. And she wasn’t too modest about it, either.”
“You turn right in there.” Shelly pointed to the parking lot as they approached St. Esther’s.
“You can park in any space you like.”
The lot was nearly empty, and he pulled into a parking space near the small office building. He wondered if Shelly understood the reason for his visit with the priest. If she did, she’d said nothing about it.
The front door to the office building was open, and they walked into a wide corridor. Sunlight spilled onto the hardwood floors from the skylights and the large window at the far end of the hallway and the
clean, open, sunny feel n ing of the building made him even more optimistic about a comfortable, amiable visit with the priest.
“Come on.” Shelly grabbed his hand and drew him down the hall.
“I’ll introduce you to Father Sean.”
The door to the priest’s office was open, and Rory saw Father Macy sitting at his desk, his back to the door. He was sandy-haired and wearing a blue plaid shirt.
“Father?” Shelly rapped lightly on the open door.
The priest turned in his swivel chair to face them. He stood up when he saw Rory.
“This is Rory, Father,” Shelly said.
The priest walked across the room, holding his hand out to Rory.
“Good to meet you, Mr. Taylor,” he said.
Rory shook his hand.
“My pleasure,” he said.
