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This late in September on Martha’s Vineyard, the trees had begun to transform, greens bleeding into reds, oranges, and yellows, and leaves splintering from branches and falling to the ground. Still, the sky above was eggshell blue, and the temperature was rather warm in the upper sixties. As they drove slowly from the ferry, Brea was enraptured, leaning forward, trying to take it all in.
“You know what, Oriana?” Brea breathed. “It doesn’t look so different from my dreams!”
Oriana laughed, blinking back tears. As she pulled up at a stoplight, she glanced at Brea, realizing they hadn’t planned for their arrival. Oriana hadn’t even told Reese about her reunion with Brea, nor why she’d gone to Thailand in the first place. She was no closer to discovering what was going on with the blackmailer than she’d been before that flight to Thailand.
But suddenly, Brea figured out the next step for both of them.
“Could you take me to the flower shop? And then to the cemetery?” Her voice wavered. “It’s time I go see him.”
Brea asked that Oriana remain in the car while she bought flowers. Oriana sensed this was because Oriana was recognizable across the island. Everyone had watched her grow up and knew her through and through. Brea, being twenty-three years older than she’d been the last time she’d stood on Vineyard soil, could fly under the radar a bit better.
Brea returned with a large bouquet of Black-eyed Susan’s and Morning Glories, her eyes glistening with pride. On the drive to the cemetery, she remained quiet, her chin raised and her cheeks streaked with tears. Oriana tried to put herself in Brea’s shoes, to imagine what it had been like to bury her husband so many years ago, then leave the only home you’d ever known immediately after. Brea had been floating, a boat without an anchor.
“You can come with me,” Brea said after they parked. Oriana reasoned she said it because she really needed company.
Despite the many years between visits, Brea knew exactly where to go. Twenty-seven rows down, thirty-three rows to the right. That was where the large gravestone sat, upon which was carved:
KENNY BALLARD
A Loving Husband and Friend
1973-2000
Because Kenny’s family had died, Reese and Oriana were the only people who brought flowers to the grave site. Admittedly, over the years, they’d gotten lazier with it, often letting months go by. Oriana wished she could explain that to Brea, to tell her that they still thought of him often. But it wasn’t the time to talk about the ways she’d failed her friend.
Brea knelt in front of the grave to place the bouquet in front of it, then began talking quietly to Kenny. Several paces back, Oriana couldn’t quite make out what she said. Again, she was overwhelmed with memories of Brea and Kenny’s wedding, a stormy day in June, so long after Kenny’s transplant. It had seemed that their love would last forever. It had seemed they were in the clear.
Before they left, Brea kissed the gravestone softly, turned, and hugged Oriana with her eyes closed. She shuddered against Oriana for several minutes, her hair flipping with the September winds. Oriana wished she could take away her dear friend’s pain. She wished she could carry it for her.
Brea didn’t argue when Oriana suggested they drive back to her house. It was getting dark and cold, and they were both starving. On the way, Oriana texted Reese to ask him to order pizza, and Reese sent a celebratory GIF that made Oriana laugh. When she showed Brea the GIF, she shook her head, smiling, and said, “I see you two haven’t changed at all.” This warmed Oriana’s heart.
Oriana sensed Brea’s nerves as they walked through the garage to enter the kitchen door. The kitchen was simmering with smells of melted cheese, tomato sauce, and spicy cured meats, and laughter and conversation echoed.
“GRAMMA!” Benny swung around the corner and ran directly into Oriana’s legs, making her wince. “Grandma’s home!” He announced properly.
Reese bounded forward to hug Oriana, then dropped back, his eyes shadowed. “Hello,” he said to Brea, who stood nervously behind Oriana.
“Hi, Reese,” Brea said very quietly.
Reese’s jaw dropped. Oriana watched his face contort through shock, fear, and finally, joy.
“BREA?” He raced toward her and hugged her, moving much faster than Oriana had seen him in years. “This is a crazy surprise! What are you doing here?”
After the hug, Brea’s eyes were thicker with tears than ever. Behind Reese, Alexa, Alan, and Nora peered at them with curiosity.
“Everyone, this is my best friend, Brea,” Oriana announced, striding through the kitchen and gesturing for Brea to follow. “She was working in Thailand, so we met up and decided it was time for her to visit.”
Reese remained flabbergasted. Alexa had been too young when Brea was around to remember her properly, but she opened her arms to her, asking her how the trip had gone. Brea then shook Nora and Alan’s hands as Nora said, “You have the most beautiful hair! Alan, doesn’t she?”
Brea blushed and touched her wild, gray, and black mane. “I probably look like a hippie.”
“I’m old,” Nora explained. “Maybe I was a little bit of a hippie back in my day.”
Everyone laughed, even Brea, although her cheeks were red with embarrassment. It was too much attention at once.
“I think we’d better eat,” Reese began, realizing the awkwardness. “Brea? You still a fan of sausage, green peppers, and onions?”
“I haven’t changed that much,” Brea joked, accepting the plate piled with pizza.
