The Good Widow(59)

“I understand.” Beth holds her hand up before he can finish. “So then it’s settled? We’re all going back home?” Beth looks at us.

And suddenly I realize this is exactly why she came here. Not just to protect me, but to talk me into leaving—and now she thinks Nick has done her job for her. I can tell she doesn’t like Nick. She probably made up her mind about him the day I first told her he’d come to my house. And once Beth has something in her head, it’s hard to change it. Her dislike is subtle. But I can tell by the way she chews on her lower lip when he talks, not really listening but observing, by how she’s holding her shoulders as if on guard, by the way she’s held her gaze firmly on him. She’s definitely not a fan.

Nick nods. “Yes, I think it’s the right thing to do.”

I suck in a deep breath just as Beth lets out a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relax. At least they can agree on this, she’s thinking. Maybe he’s not so bad, she concedes.

It blows my mind that Nick would give up now. I know he told me back in California that he’d decide once we were here, that he’d let his heart guide him. That he’d let Dylan show the way. But we’re so close to seeing everything. To discovering the secrets this highway holds about the people we loved. He pushed me to come here, pushed me to face both James’s demons and my own. It has to be the kiss. It’s changed everything.

“Okay then,” Beth says, standing up. “Mine could be the shortest trip anyone has ever taken to Maui.” Her eyes light up as she watches me. She thinks she’s getting exactly what she wants. She believes I’m going home.

“No. Wait,” I say. “I want to stay. I’ll call Officer Keoloha and tell him I’m ready to see where it happened. I emailed him when I arrived, so he already knows I’m here and that this is a possibility. He offered to escort me if I decided to go through with it.” Even if I had decided not to go to the crash site, I’d planned to say thank you in person for all he’d done for me. “The police station is just down that way.” I point toward the road we’d driven to the restaurant. “I’ve come this far. And I can’t turn back now. And I hope you both will go with me.”

I wait, hoping Nick will change his mind. Hoping Beth will support me. But even if they both say no, I’m going. I can do this. I can stand on the edge of the cliff where my husband died, and I can say good-bye. I owe that much to him, and to myself.

“Oh, Jacks, you don’t have to put yourself through that. Nick is right: it could set you both back,” Beth says gently.

“Look, Beth, I love you. I don’t expect you to understand this. But, Nick, I have to say, I’m really surprised. It was your idea to come all the way here.”

Nick looks down.

“Can I talk to you for a minute—in private?” It’s a question, but Beth’s not really asking.

I nod and she grabs my hand, then looks at Nick. “Sorry, I just need to have a sister-to-sister chat for a second.” And he nods, but locks eyes with me, giving me an apologetic smile.

“I don’t like him,” she says as soon as we get out front.

“I know, Beth, but you never like anyone. It took you almost a year to warm up to James.”

“True,” she says.

“You don’t know him, Beth.”

“Neither do you.”

“Yes, I do,” I say, looking toward the restaurant. “We’ve talked a lot on this trip. He’s shared things with me and I with him. Just give him a chance.”

“Fine. I’ll give him a chance, but I’ll do it back in California. I’ll invite him over for dinner. I’ll make risotto. Sound good?” She folds her arms across her chest.

I roll my eyes at her. “I’m not leaving. Not yet. I need to say good-bye to James.”

Beth is quiet for several seconds. “Okay. If this is really what you need to do, I’ll go with you. But I think you should let Nick off the hook. If he doesn’t want to go, then he doesn’t want to go.”

“You just don’t want him to go.”

“Maybe.” She smirks.

I hug her. “Thank you.”

We walk back inside. “I’m going to stay,” I say, and look at him, wondering if he is too.

He simply shakes his head.

“What about Dylan?”

“I’m sorry,” Nick says softly. “I can’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry too. But now isn’t the time to be weak,” I say as I walk back out the door, Beth following like always, watching my back.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


DYLAN—BEFORE

“There is no way I’m jumping off here.” Dylan inched toward the side of the bridge, feeling woozy just staring at the freshwater pool at least fifty feet below.

“If you guys aren’t going to jump, do you mind?” A young man, maybe eighteen, with deep-brown skin and a shark tooth necklace, motioned toward the edge, giving them a look that said, What are you doing up here anyway? Aren’t you too old to be jumping off this bridge?

Yes, we are, or at least he is, Dylan thought, looking at James, taking in the occasional silver thread that wove its way through his light brown hair.

“You live here?” James asked the boy.