Run by emily_michele
Grief is a funny thing. For Annie, comparisons between the deaths of her parents and that of her husband were unavoidable, even natural, but it was in the grieving process that she saw the contrast. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. She studied the stages of grief in depth in her college psychology class and again in medical school. She’d gotten firsthand experience in seeing patients and their families experience the stages, sometimes all within a matter of a few minutes, or even seconds, when she’d been the bearer of bad news. She dwelt within the grief cycle herself for much longer than was comfortable. Even now, years later, she sometimes felt like she was stuck in the denial stage when it came to Andrew. Nick had helped, more than she imagined he’d ever know, to pull her back to acceptance, but the circumstances had been brutal, and Andrew was so young. She still often found herself questioning the hows and the whys of her late husband’s untimely death, and looking back, couldn’t shake the sense of disbelief that went along with it.
On the other hand, when it came to her parents, she found herself settling on acceptance rather quickly. Perhaps it was because they lived much longer and fuller lives than Andrew. They’d both been well-educated and well-traveled. They lived to raise two children, retired from lucrative careers, and experienced the joy of having a grandchild. Andrew’s career was only just beginning, and he didn’t even live to see the birth of his child. In contrast to the 40-year long marriage of the Donohues, Andrew and Annie Morgan had only three years together before their own marriage was cut tragically short. Then, there was Nick. Undoubtedly, Nick’s presence this time around helped to curtail the sense of loneliness and hopelessness she’d endured when she lost Andrew. This time, she wasn’t alone, and this time, she wasn’t hopeless. She was looking forward to a lifetime with Nick. Of course she grieved. She was heartbroken over the murder of her parents, and more than anything, she wanted justice for them. Yet, she also yearned for the ability to move on, for her sake, as well as Nick’s.
“Oh, gross!” Annie grimaced and dramatically wiped at her wet cheek, freshly licked by her two-year old son, with the back of her hand. “Did Nick teach you that?”
“Hey!” Nick squealed in mock surprise. “Why you gotta go thinking I taught him all the gross stuff?”
“Because you did!” Annie laughed. Nick grinned and leaned across the kitchen table towards his fiancé as if going in for a kiss, but turned at the last minute and slurped his long tongue upwards from her jawline up to her cheekbone. “Argh!”
“Are you a pirate, now?”
“Yo ho mateys!” Drew exclaimed, quoting his favorite Disney Junior cartoon. Nick’s eyes danced with laughter and he held his hand up for Drew, who was playing in the floor beside his mother, to give him a high five. The toddler squealed in delight and slapped his little hand up against Nick’s palm. “We got you, Mommy!”
“Yeah! We got you, Mommy!” Nick echoed. He gave Annie a playful wink, then bent down to actually kiss her on the cheek. “You were a knockout,” he said, pointing to one of the photo albums spread open across the table top.
Annie looked down at the school picture of a little girl smiling up at them with a toothless grin, long auburn curls pulled into low pigtails with purple ribbons, a light spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and bright green eyes that stood out against her denim jumper and the gray backdrop. “I was six!”
“Well, seven year old Nick would have thought six-year old Annie was hot!” Nick deadpanned with a smirk.
“Oh, he would?”
“He would.” Nick nodded affirmatively and plopped into a chair at the table beside her. He leaned on his elbow and rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he watched his future wife turn the page.
It had been two weeks since tragedy brought them to Boca Raton, Florida, and Annie and Josh were busy getting their parents’ beach house ready to put on the market. They had inherited it, but the thought of vacationing there after their parents died there was beyond awkward, so they were packing up the items they wanted to keep and giving the rest away to charity-- the items that hadn’t been deemed evidence in the criminal investigation, anyway. Looking at old family photos and recalling happy memories proved to be very therapeutic.
Annie sighed, her eyes settling on a picture of Josh and herself standing in front of the Washington Monument. A well-manicured finger cast a shadow in the upper right-hand corner, and Jack Donohue’s eyes, balding forehead, and furrowed brows encompassed the bottom corner as he tried to figure out why he couldn’t hear the characteristic picture-taking “snap” of his "newfangled" digital camera when his wife pressed the button.
"That was a good day," Josh remarked, appearing behind his little sister and leaning his hands on her chair as he looked over her shoulder and nuzzled his head against hers.
"It was," Annie agreed.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” he asked. “We don’t have to go out on the boat this afternoon if you’ve changed your mind.”
Annie nodded with a smile. “We’ll be fine, and I haven’t changed my mind. It was my idea, remember?”
“Just checking.”
“Now, you two get out of here so that maybe I can accomplish something in this house with the two of you out of my hair!”
“You sure you don’t want us to take little man with us?” Nick asked her as he stood up, pausing to drop a quick kiss on her forehead.
“As tempting as that sounds, the idea of my baby on a speedboat out in the middle of the ocean scares me, even if I know he’s in good hands. Besides, it’s almost nap time,” Annie explained.
“No nap, Mama!” The toddler tended to resort back to his “baby talk” when he was tired.
“How about some milk in your sippy cup and we can watch Jake and the Neverland Pirates?” Annie stood and headed for the refrigerator.
“Okay!” Drew agreed excitedly.
Annie gave Nick a wink and gestured her head towards the back door. “You guys have fun, and don’t stay out too late. I don’t want to be worrying about you.”
Nick crossed the room and retrieved a green sippy cup from Annie’s oversized beige leather bag. He took the top off and placed it on the granite countertop, holding it in place so that Annie could pour the milk. “Actually, we won’t be gone very long. It it’s okay with you, Josh is going to watch Drew tonight so we can spend some time together-- maybe even go out to dinner. I want to talk to you about something.” Nick thought about the legal documents he’d had Jordan mail to him earlier in the week. It seemed like it might be the right time to talk to Annie about this, and he prayed he was right.
“Actually, that sounds great,” she answered with a smile. “You guys have fun.” Annie leaned into Nick and gave him a quick hug and kiss before shooing him and Josh out the door.
Fifteen minutes later, Drew was sprawled out on the couch, snoring softly with his mouth hanging open, and Annie was turning off the television and pulling the half-empty sippy cup out of his limp grip. It wasn’t the best way to get her child to sleep, but it was effective, and sometimes necessary. She took the cup to the kitchen and washed it, then checked to make sure all the first floor doors and windows were locked before gathering Drew into her arms and carrying him upstairs with her. Despite the fact that she was ready to “move on” after her parents’ death, and that she hoped and prayed for Nick to be able to do the same, Frank Carter was still at large, and she wasn’t taking any chances by leaving her son alone downstairs while she worked upstairs. After a week-long manhunt, Detective Jones and the FBI assumed that Frank had most likely gotten his revenge then left the country, so tracking him down became much more difficult. When the suspect didn’t make any attempt to contact his son in the days following the murders, Kendall attempted to assure them that they weren’t likely in any danger, and they believed him, but now that Annie was alone, she found herself feeling a little uneasy. Then, there was the fact that she still hadn’t found her wedding album. What could Frank Carter possibly want with her wedding album?
Annie placed Drew on the bed of the guestroom that her mother tended to use more as storage. She opened the chest at the foot of the bed and peered inside, sifting through the stacks of albums and eventually taking them out one by one to make sure she wasn’t overlooking anything. Still nothing. She sighed as she came across a college yearbook and picked it up. This was the only University of Kentucky yearbook she’d ever bought, mainly because it had been brought to her attention that there were two pictures of her and Andrew in it-- one of them studying together at the library, and another of them cheering in the stands at a football game, complete with blue and white face paint. She sat down in the window seat overlooking the beach and turned to page 62, then to page 150. She’d memorized the page numbers of the aforementioned pictures years ago. She smiled and looked out at the ocean, then gasped at the vision below her. There he was again-- the man who looked like Andrew. He had a funny way of showing up whenever she was thinking about her late husband, and she was beginning to think that maybe he didn’t look as much like Andrew as she thought he did, and perhaps it was just her subconscious making her think so. However, future events would soon force her to re-examine that theory.
********************
“I think Annie wants us to bond,” Josh remarked as Nick handed over control of the boat to his future brother-in-law and took a seat.
“Oh, I know she does,” Nick answered. “Tighten your grip on the throttle and pull up on it a little as we go move into this wave.”
Josh did as he was told and kept talking. “I never really went out much with Dad in his boats. I was more into sports and stuff.”
“You don’t think speedboating is a sport?” Nick asked incredulously.
“Um…..no?”
“I used to race with my dad. Uh, Bob, I mean. The boats were bigger and faster, but it’s fun, right?” Nick smiled as he leaned back against the hull of the small motorboat, clasping his hands behind his head and propping his feet up on the other side. He closed his eyes and breathed in the salty ocean breeze as tiny droplets of the cool sea spray hit his face and were instantly warmed by the bright sun.
“It is fun,” Josh admitted with a smile.
“Well, the boats are yours now. We’ll do this again sometime-- maybe even convince Annie to let us bring Drew in a few years, or go fishing or something.”
“I’d like that,” Josh answered wistfully. He looked over at Nick, then back out at the ocean. “I wish I could have done a lot of things differently. I mean, I was close to Dad, but I should have spent more time doing stuff like this with him.”
“I think we all wish we could have done things differently for one reason or another,” Nick replied. He intended to answer quietly, but really, both of them were shouting over the sound of the boat motor, wind, and water.
“I’m glad you’re marrying my sister,” Josh said earnestly. “Dad had his reservations because of who you are, but you’re a good guy.”
“Thanks,” Nick answered seriously. “That means a lot coming from you.” Josh nodded ,and they sat in relative silence while he concentrated on maneuvering the boat, with Nick interjecting a few pointers when he thought necessary.
“I can see the coastline. Do you want to take over from here?”
“No, you can do it. I’ll tell you what to do,” Nick answered. He did stand up to look over Josh’s shoulder and assist as needed, though. “When you can see the dock clearly, slow down and approach at an angle. Then, you’re going to let go of the throttle so that the engine is in idle, but still set to forward.” Josh did as he was told, but when he let go of the throttle, the engine didn’t idle. “Hmm,” Nick grunted. “Let me see that.” Nick pulled up on the throttle, then let go again, steering the boat toward the dock, but it still accelerated forward. “Pull the kill switch!” he demanded. Josh yanked on the cord hooked to his belt loop, and still the engine roared, and the boar jerked forward. He looked up at Nick who gulped, his eyes frozen in fear as the boat approached the dock as top speed, getting closer and closer as the moments ticked by. He felt his heart leap up into his throat and his entire body started to shake. This was one of those worst-case scenarios you only heard about in boating safety classes. “Get off the boat!” he shouted.
“What?!” Josh took over control of the steering wheel. “No! This is my dad’s boat!”
“Get. Off. The. Boat!” Nick demanded. He reached for the outboard motor and turned it sharply to the left, where there were fewer boats along the dock and it was likely to do less damage. He lunged for Josh, grabbing him by the shoulders as he jumped out into the water away from the boat. The smaller man, however, slipped out of his grasp, and remained on the boat as it headed straight for a large yacht parked a few yards away. “JOSH!! NO!!!” Nick coughed and sputtered in the cool, choppy water, gasping for breath and watching helplessly as the small motorboat crashed into the much larger one and burst into flames.
