The discordant notes of ice cracking continued. Another hand punched through the broken ice near Josie’s knees. Devon’s face appeared, mouth turned toward the sky, sucking for air. “He-he-help me!” Her hand flailed in the air. “M-m-y h-hand. T-t-take it.”
She reached for Josie’s free hand. Everything seemed to stop in that second. The snow. The blood in Josie’s veins. The air in her lungs. Two hands. Amber and Devon. Her mind flashed back to Christmas Eve at the megachurch. The upper seating level. Two hands. Devon and Vivian. Josie thought then that she had made the right choice. What she hadn’t known was that there weren’t any good choices in that scenario. But now, today, there was a good choice.
She already had a grip on Amber. If she took her other hand, she could pull both herself and Amber to safety. If she took Devon’s hand, she would either have to let go of Amber completely or let them all die. She couldn’t save them both. She couldn’t hold onto both women at the same time and get enough purchase on the fracturing ice with her legs to pull all three of them to safety. As soon as she pulled one of them out, the already cracking ice would shatter beneath their weight, and it would be a race to get to shore without becoming submerged. Josie was confident she could lift and then tow one woman across the fragile ice, but not two.
Just as she had in the church, Josie thought of Lilly. Then she took Amber’s other hand and pulled.
Fifty-One
One Month Later
The cheering coming from Josie’s living room could only mean one thing: someone had scored a touchdown in the Super Bowl. Shaking her head, Josie turned back to her kitchen table and resumed pouring salsa into the center of a large tray of nachos. At her feet, Trout watched every small movement as if she were performing some kind of surgery. Misty breezed past with a tray of bacon-wrapped scallops and bumped Josie’s hip with her own. Smiling, Misty looked at the nacho tray and said, “Well done.”
Josie was just thrilled to have a food-related duty that didn’t involve anything that could potentially start a fire. Satisfied with Misty’s stamp of approval, she lifted the tray and went to the living room. She had to pick her way around several people seated on her floor in front of the television to get to the coffee table. She set the nachos down next to her grandmother’s urn. Again, Harris had insisted that Lisette have a front row seat to the festivities.
More cheers went up. Josie gave the television a passing glance and then weaved her way back toward the foyer where Sawyer Hayes stood leaning against the doorway. He gave her a half-smile. “You don’t like football?”
“I have no feelings about football one way or the other,” Josie told him. “But I don’t usually celebrate the Super Bowl.”
Sawyer laughed and Josie realized it was the first time, maybe ever, that she had heard a genuine laugh pass his lips. It reminded her of her one-time father, Eli. There it was, Josie thought. The blink of sadness that accompanied every moment of joy after loss. You could no longer have one without the other. That was what Lisette had tried to tell her on her deathbed. “You have to learn to live with them both, my dear. The grief and the joy.” Once you lost someone, the grief was a permanent part of your life, of who you were. Josie thought about sweet, funny, curious Lilly Rafferty. In spite of everything Amber had done to try to protect the girl, she’d lost the only mother she’d ever known. A mother who was also a killer. Lilly wouldn’t remember that. She would only remember Devon as loving and kind. Josie knew she’d struggle with this for the rest of her life, and she felt sad that the girl would be saddled with the ever-present blink of grief in all her moments of joy, from such a young age. At least, Josie thought, Lilly would get to stay with Devon’s ex-husband, Bob. After Devon’s death, Josie had told Thatcher Toland about Lilly’s true identity. All he’d asked for was a meeting with Lilly and Bob—not as her biological father, just as the preacher from her mom’s church. After seeing Bob and Lilly together, Thatcher decided it would be best for everyone if Lilly stayed with the only father she had ever known. He stepped aside, telling Josie in private that he would never interfere in Lilly’s life but that she would be heir to his estate.
“Flag on the play!” someone yelled.
Josie turned away from Sawyer and surveyed the living room. Noah was there, snug on the couch with Harris on his lap. Gretchen’s daughter, Paula, sat beside them. Gretchen was on duty, but Josie had promised to send food home with Paula. Josie’s brother Patrick and his girlfriend were also crammed onto the couch. In folding chairs around the perimeter of the room sat Shannon and Christian. Even Drake had made it, and he now sat on the floor with Trinity. Dan Lamay and his wife and daughter had come, as had Josie’s former mother-in-law, Cindy Quinn. All of them also sat in folding chairs. Mettner and Amber were also there, squished together in the recliner. Amber’s head rested in the hollow of Mettner’s shoulder. While everyone else watched the game with rapt attention, she dozed, safe in the cocoon of his arms. The plan was for everyone to eat lots of food, have some drinks, watch the big game and then, most important of all, the premiere of Trinity’s new show. Josie thought of it as Trinity’s Watch Party, Take Two. Hopefully at the end of the evening everyone would still be accounted for.
Misty appeared with an armful of beer bottles. Standing between Josie and Sawyer, she called, “Who needs a drink?”
Hands reached out, relieving her of her burden. Mettner extricated himself from Amber, planting a kiss on her lips before walking across the room for the last bottle. Amber tucked her feet under her and watched the television. Soon, her eyelids drooped again.
Quietly, Josie said, “She still having trouble sleeping at night?”
Mettner sighed. “Yeah. We’re working on it, though. She’s seeing a therapist now, so we’re hoping that will help. But I feel so… helpless. It feels like all I do is watch her suffer. I can’t fix it.”
Josie looked over toward Amber, but her eyes were fully closed. Even if she was awake, there was too much chatter in the room and too much noise coming from the TV speakers for her to hear their low voices. “It takes time, Mett. Lots and lots of time.” She glanced at Noah. “And support. Believe me, being there to witness her pain and listen to her, it goes a long way. Being there no matter what—even if you can’t fix anything—that’s the best thing you can do for her right now.”
He, too, looked at Noah and then back to her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he told her.
A moment slipped by. Josie was aware of Sawyer on the other side of her, eavesdropping. Mettner downed more of his beer and used his knuckles to wipe at his lips.
Josie said, “Does she know that?”
“Well yeah, I—I mean, I guess she does. You think I should propose?”
Josie laughed. “Let’s not get carried away. I’d wait on the proposal till she’s in a better place in her own head.”
A round of angry “come ons!” rose up from the room. Someone hollered, “Stupid ref!”