McNeal walked away from the water. He stopped occasionally as he headed along the beach, tilting his head back. He loved the cold wind and rain. He walked and walked as far as the beach would take him.
He was drenched to the skin. Cold and shivering. He walked the beach. It felt like hours.
It was nearly dark when he turned and headed back home.
In the distance, through the gathering gloom, McNeal thought he saw something. He could hear shouting. Walking toward him were two figures. He stood and watched as the two figures got closer.
McNeal felt his throat tighten. He realized who it was. It was his flesh and blood. His family.
His brother, Peter, and his father, Daniel.
Nine
The three of them hugged, crying, before winding their way back up the beach toward the salt-blasted colonial.
“Christ, son,” his father said. “I’m so sorry.”
McNeal locked the door behind them. “I know, Dad.”
Jack’s father hugged him tight. It wasn’t like his father. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had gotten so emotional. Probably after the loss of Molly, Jack’s beloved mother.
“I wish I could do something to make it go away.”
He felt his father’s tears on his cheek.
“God rest her soul.”
McNeal was glad to have his father and brother with him. He thought he had wanted to be alone, but it felt good to have someone there. People he could trust. People he could confide in and show his true feelings to.
McNeal got some towels, and they dried off in front of the gas fireplace. He fixed three single malts. They each knocked them back in one gulp.
He refilled the glasses as they warmed up in the living room that looked out over the water. McNeal slumped in an armchair. His brother and father sat on the sofa opposite.
He looked across at his father, who started crying again.
“Dad, it’s tough. I know. But I’ll get through this. We all will.”
His father shook his head. “What the hell happened? Peter said she was found floating in the Potomac? Is that true?”
“That’s what I’ve been told. I don’t know the circumstances. They think she might have killed herself.”
His father shook his head. “Not a fucking chance. I knew Caroline. I loved her like a daughter. She was a smart girl. I’m not buying it! Not for a second!”
Peter put an arm around their father.
“I’m so sorry, son.” His father shook his head. “I don’t want to overstep. But it’s true we loved her. She was a beautiful woman. I know you and Caroline weren’t together . . . but still, she was the daughter I never had. She was a nice person. A good person.”
McNeal nodded and bowed his head.
Peter sipped his single malt. “Christ, I don’t know what to say, Jack.”
“There’s nothing to say. I appreciate you both being here. It means a lot.”
Peter rubbed his eyes. “I wondered . . .”
McNeal shrugged.
“I wondered if you’ve watched any news.”
“News? My wife’s dead. Why the hell would I be interested in that?”
Peter sighed. “Jack, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you . . . but they were saying on Fox . . .”
“What? Were they talking about my wife?”
“A few channels are talking about the story. They’re all saying the same thing. They said she had been seriously depressed, and everything pointed to a suicide.”
McNeal stared at the amber glow from the gas fire. “She’s barely dead, and they’re already raking over her life. Disgusting.”
“She never seemed down,” his father said. “Even when you were going through difficulties. She wasn’t the type.”
“Dad, she was devastated after we lost Patrick. We both were.”
“I know. But she was tough. I find it hard to believe she would just check out on life. Not the lovely girl I knew.”
McNeal felt the warmth from the fire as it bathed the cavernous room in an ethereal glow. “It’s not easy getting over the loss of a child. He was her only son. I don’t know. Maybe she was more upset about the separation than I thought. She was good at holding in her feelings. But I know what you mean. She was tough. I’m struggling to accept that she might have killed herself.”
Peter looked around the living room. “Hard to believe she’s gone. I mean, gone forever.”
McNeal nodded.
“No matter what, Jack,” Peter said, “I’ll try and help you. I mean, with the funeral arrangements. You know, that kind of stuff.”