That night as he lay in bed beside Rainy, Cork stared up at the dark ceiling. A light breeze came through the window, cooler than anything that had blown across Tamarack County all day.
“Trouble sleeping?” Rainy finally asked.
“A lot on my mind.”
“Thinking about Waaboo and his vision?”
“Thinking how hard it’s been on Stephen all his life. I know he’s talked to Waaboo, and maybe that’s helped some, but I can’t help wondering why God settles this kind of burden on any child’s shoulders.”
“Maybe Uncle Henry could offer some insight,” Rainy suggested. “Maybe he should talk to Waaboo.”
Cork liked the idea. “Couldn’t hurt. And Henry might be able to help him understand more about the vision, everything that passed between him and the spirit he saw. Waaboo said she was Native. If that’s true, then it’s not Olivia Hamilton in that grave. Maybe there’s more to Waaboo’s vision that might help us understand who she is.”
“So, anything else troubling you?”
Cork hesitated, then confessed, “Annie.”
“It’s good to have her home, even if it’s just for a little while, for the wedding. And Maria’s such a nice surprise.”
Cork made a sound in his throat that was meant to convey his agreement, but it came out as more of a growl.
“What?”
“It’s clear they’re a couple, so why doesn’t she just say that? Does she think we won’t understand or accept?”
“I’m sure she has her reasons. Is that really what’s troubling you?”
“I get the feeling she’s not really here. Not that she doesn’t want to be here, but there’s something holding her back.”
“Any ideas?”
He shook his head, even though in the dark it was a gesture Rainy couldn’t see. After another long period of silence, he said, “She feels haunted to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like something’s happened that she can’t let go of. Maybe something in Guatemala.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. But whatever it is, maybe it’s so awful she can’t share it.”
“You could always ask her.”
“I’d rather she tell me in her own time and in her own way.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
Cork wished he were certain what that was. But like so much in his life, past and present, he was just stumbling along, worrying, hoping, praying that somehow in the end, in the darkness of all his self-doubt and concern, a light would shine and illuminate the right path.
Annie couldn’t sleep either. She and Maria had been given the attic room. When Annie was growing up, this had been the bedroom of Aunt Rose, her mother’s sister. Aunt Rose had helped raise all the O’Connor children, then had fallen in love, married, and gone off to begin a family of her own.
Annie stood at the attic window, staring at the elm in the front yard, which was dimly illuminated by a streetlamp. That tree, like so much about the house on Gooseberry Lane, was woven into all her memories. The night before, while Maria slept, Annie had stood at the edge of the island, staring across the dark water of Iron Lake at the distant lights of town, knowing that she should feel pleasure in coming home but feeling instead apprehension. Could they understand? Could they accept?
She’d almost told Jenny the truth that day. They’d finally had a moment alone, sitting on the front porch swing, and despite the dramatic events of the morning, they’d shared memories in the way of sisters.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Jenny had said. “But I’m proud of what you’re doing in Guatemala, what you’ve become. I always thought you’d be the first woman to pitch for the Twins. Instead, you’ve become our own Mother Teresa.”
“Give me a break, I’m no saint.”
“True. I can remember lots of times that Irish temper of yours got you into trouble.”
She’d taken Annie’s hand. “I like Maria. She’s a good soul. You make a good couple. We all think so.”
“I should have come right out and told everyone.”
“No need. It’s pretty clear.”
“She’s been a gift. We’ve done so much together. I hate thinking I won’t be able…”
She’d stopped herself before the revelation spilled from her.
“Won’t be able?”
“Able to help for a while, I mean,” she’d stumbled. “In Guatemala. I’m not sure when I’ll go back.”
“You might stick around after the wedding? That’s terrific news.”
Jenny had given her sister a hug from the heart. It felt wonderful, but it also brought on a wave of guilt for holding back a truth she could not share, not even with her beloved sister.
