We’re standing so close that our voices are low. Still, with a quick look behind, Margo guides us farther from the house and into the shadows. As always, she’s right. I’m not sure what the others are doing and don’t want Joy out here yet. For now, my sisters are enough.

I don’t mention talking with Chrissie, just tell of my time on the highway, passing exit after exit, feeling worse and worse. “It wasn’t until East Lyme that I realized I was being stupid. I should have called him then, but I honestly pictured him right here waiting for me. I mean, after everything he said, you’d think it, wouldn’t you?”

“Not with Jack Sabathian—” Anne says. She catches herself, but only after sarcasm has leaked out, history rearing its ugly head.

A week ago, I might have agreed with her or, at least, let it go. But my loyalties have shifted.

Actually, not. I’m still loyal to my sisters. My loyalties have simply broadened to include not only Jack, but a more cogent reality than one I’ve embraced in the past.

“Do you honestly think that, Annie?” I ask softly. “After everything he’s done this week? He’s been supportive and thoughtful. He’s been respectful of Dad—not a single snide comment—and he might have gloated. Another man would have. Another man might have said Dad got what he deserved and justice was finally served. But Jack didn’t. He’s been with us through this whole thing, despite all the answers about his mother that he’ll now never get. He’s been good with Joy—great with Joy.”

“And with you?” Margo asks.

Glancing at her, I shrug. “The best.”

“Then you were right to come back.”

“But you have to work tomorrow,” Anne protests, playing the devil’s advocate as Tom’s longtime caretaker would inevitably do.

“If I’m on the road by four, I can make it.”

“Without any sleep?” she asks, but the answer is on my face. I could talk with Jack long enough to miss sleep entirely, and it would be worth it. “Would you marry him?” Clearly, marriage is on her mind.

“If he asks.”

“Elizabeth’s son?”

“Elizabeth’s son.”

“After everything she did to our family?” Anne asks but more feebly, like she’s running out of options.

I might remind her that whatever had happened, we’d done to ourselves. But it is done. Done.

So, simply, I say, “Yes.”

“What about Joy?”

“Joy can handle him.”

“But … but your career, her school, the condo?”

“I don’t know, Annie. I don’t know how any of it will work out. All I know right now is that I want to be with him. I love him. I always have.”

Margo gives me a crooked smile of concession. “He was always yours.”