deeply, and that maybe you haven’t really been able to grieve together because… because your wife is spending her energy being angry with you, and you’re spending your energy being angry with yourself, and so neither one of you is able to heal.”
“You hit the nail right on the head,” he said.
“What about counseling?” Daria said.
“Maybe that would help the two of you.”
“We went once, but then my wife had to have surgery and she was…”
His voice trailed off as he looked out the window again. He shook his head.
“She’s just had too much to deal with. So, we haven’t been back to the counselor, and Grace wouldn’t go, anyhow. She’s too angry with me.”
Daria caught her breath. Grace? From Rodanthe? But Rory’s Grace was named Grace Martin, and Grace was not all that rare a name. Besides, Rory’s Grace was separated from her husband. Surely this couldn’t be. She looked around the room and found exactly what she was searching for on one of the cluttered desks: a photograph of Eddie, Pamela—and Grace Martin. Her mind raced as she tried to put two and two together.
“Um…” Her voice had a tremor in it.
“Your wife. Grace? How is she coping?”
“You’d have to ask her that question,” Eddie said. He did not sound bitter, only confused.
“I don’t know where she is half the time,” he said.
“She won’t talk to me. She won’t tell me what she’s thinking or feeling. We’re both pretty alone in this… not grieving together, like you said.”
He hadn’t mentioned a thing about a separation, and she needed to know.
“Have you and your wife… separated over this?” she asked.
He looked surprised, as well he should, since he had said nothing to make her think that. “No, and I sure hope it doesn’t come to that.
Though right now we may as well be. She’s staying in an apartment above our garage. I’m just hoping some time to herself is going to make a difference. “
“I hope so,” she said absently. No wonder Grace never wanted Rory to come to Rodanthe to see her.
Daria stood up.
“I’d better let you get back to work,” she said.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I’m glad you came,” Eddie said, standing himself.
“It makes me feel like Pamela had the best chance possible,
knowing somebody like you was there. Somebody who really cared. “
Daria wrote her phone number on a pad lying on the desk.
“Please call me if you need to talk again.” Or if your wife needs to talk, she should add. But of course, she could not.
Outside the cafe, Daria sat in her car, turning on the ignition only long enough to lower all the windows, not yet ready to drive. What the hell was going on with Grace? Was that why she was so pathologically attentive to Shelly? Was she trying to replace the daughter she’d lost? With a horrified jolt, she wondered if Grace might somehow know about Shelly’s role in Pamela’s death. She tried to follow that thought to its logical conclusion: Grace had somehow found out what Shelly had done at the scene of the accident. Then she plotted to meet Shelly, and now, perhaps, was planning to harm her in some way as retribution.
“That’s crazy,” she said out loud. Her imagination was running away with her. But what else was she to think? One thing she knew for certain was that Grace Martin—Grace Fuller—was a liar.
Should she tell Rory? She had to. She couldn’t keep this from him. For all she knew, Grace was simply using Rory to get close to Shelly.
Driving home in a daze, glad the route was a straight shot and required little of her attention, she tried to puzzle out, not only what Grace was up to, but what she could do about it.
She pulled into the driveway of the Sea Shanty just as Shelly walked into the yard. from the beach, and all of Daria’s protective instincts kicked into gear at the sight of her. Grace better not harm a hair on her head, she thought.
“Hi, Shell,” she said as she got out of the car.
Shelly mumbled a greeting and reached for the door, and Daria could see that her face was red.
“Shelly?” Daria started walking toward the house.
“What’s wrong?”
Shelly froze, her hand on the knob of the screen door.
“Nothing,” she said.
Daria caught up to her. Shelly had definitely been crying.
“Oh, sweetie.” She put an arm around her sister’s shoulders.
“What’s got you so upset?”
