AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She shrugged. “It’s an old story. He’s forty . . . and she’s twenty-eight. ”
Hank’s lean, wrinkled face fell. “Oh, honey . . . ” She saw him search for words, and saw the sadness fill his eyes when he came up empty. He moved toward her, pressed a dry-skinned palm against her face. For a heartbeat, the past came forward, slid into the present; she knew they were both remembering another day, long ago, when Hank had told his seven-year-old daughter that there’d been an accident . . . that Mommy had gone to heaven. . . .
She’s gone, honey. She won’t be coming back.
In the silence that followed, Hank hugged his daughter. She laid her cheek against the comforting flannel of his plaid work shirt. She wanted to ask him for some words of advice, some comforting thought to take to her lonely bedroom and curl up into, but they’d never had that kind of relationship. Hank had never been comfortable handing out fatherly wisdom. “He’ll be back,” he said quietly. “Men can be pretty damn stupid. But Blake will realize what he’s done,
and he’ll be back, begging for a second chance. ”
“I want to believe that, Dad. ”
Hank smiled, apparently bolstered by the effect of his words. “Trust me, Annie. That man loves you. I knew it the first time I saw him. You were too young to get married, I knew, but you were a sensible girl, and I said to myself, now there’s a boy who’s going to take care of my daughter. He’ll be back. Now, how about if we settle you into your old bedroom and then bring out the old chessboard?”
“That’d be perfect. ”
Hank reached out and grabbed her hand. Together they walked through the sparsely decorated living room and up the rickety stairs that led to the second floor.
At Annie’s old bedroom, Hank turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was a wash of yellow-gold wallpaper lit by the last lavender rays of the fading sun; it was a young girl’s floral print, chosen by a loving mother a lifetime ago, and never changed. Neither Annie nor Hank had ever considered peeling the paper off, not even when Annie had outgrown it. A spindly white iron double bed dominated the room, its surface piled high with yellow and white quilts. Beside a narrow double-hung window sat a twig rocker, the one her father had made for her on her thirteenth birthday. You’re a woman now, he’d said, you’ll be wanting a woman’s chair.
She had spent much of her youth in that chair, gazing out at the endless night, clipping photographs of celebrities from a Teen Beat magazine, writing gushy fan letters to Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy, dreaming of the man she would someday wed.
He’ll be back. She wrapped Hank’s words around her, letting them become a shield against the other, darker thoughts. She wanted desperately to believe her dad was right.
Because if he was wrong, if Blake didn’t come back, Annie had no idea who she was or where she belonged.
Chapter 5
The night had passed in fitful waves. On several occasions, Annie woke with a start, the remnant of a sob floating in the darkness around her, the sheets coiled about her legs, damp and sour smelling. She’d spent the past four days wandering around this old farmhouse like a lost spirit, feeling restless and bruised. She rarely ventured far from the phone.
I made a mistake, Annie. I’m sorry; I love you. If you come home to me I’ll never see Suzannah again. She waited for the call all day, and then, at night, she collapsed into a troubled sleep and dreamed about it again.
She knew she should do something, but she had no idea what. All her life she’d taken care of people, she’d used her life to create a perfect setting for Blake’s and Natalie’s lives, and now, alone, she was lost.
Go back to sleep. That was it. She’d burrow under the down comforter again and sleep. . . .
There was a knock at her door. “I’ll be out in a while,” she mumbled, reaching for her pillow.
The door swung open. Hank stood in the opening. He was wearing a red and blue plaid flannel shirt and a pair of bleached, stained denim overalls—the makeshift uniform he’d worn to the lumber mill for almost forty years. He was holding a tray full of food. Disapproval etched his face, narrowed his eyes. He carefully set down the tray and crossed the room. “You look like hell. ”
Stupidly, she burst into tears. She knew it was true. She was thin and ugly and dirty—and no one, including Blake, would ever want her again. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She clamped a hand over her mouth and raced to the bathroom. It was humiliating to know that her father could hear her retching, but she couldn’t help it. Afterward, she brushed her teeth and moved shakily back into her room.
The worry in Hank’s eyes cut like a knife.
“That’s it,” he said, clapping his hands together. “You’re going in to see the doctor. Get your clothes. ”
The thought of going out, of leaving, filled her with horror. “I can’t. People will . . . ” She didn’t even know what she was afraid of. She only knew that in this room, here in her little girl’s bed, she felt safe.
“I can still throw you over my shoulder, kiddo. Either get dressed or go into town in those pajamas. It’s up to you. But you’re going to town. ”
She wanted to argue, but she knew her father was right, and frankly, it felt good to be taken care of. “Okay, okay. ” She made her way slowly into the bathroom and re-dressed in the same rumpled clothes she’d worn on her trip up here. Putting her hair up was way too much for her; instead, she finger-combed it and covered her bloodshot, baggy eyes with sunglasses. “Let’s go. ”
Annie stared out the half-open window of her dad’s Ford pickup. Behind her head, the empty gun rack clattered against the glass.
He maneuvered the vehicle expertly between the pot-holes in the road and pulled up in front of a squat, brick building. A handpainted sign read MYSTIC MEDICAL CLINIC. DR. GERALD BURTON, FAMILY PRACTITIONER.
Annie smiled. She hadn’t thought about old Doc Burton in years. He had delivered Annie into the world and seen her through almost two decades of colds and ear infections and childhood accidents. He was as much a part of her youth as braces, proms, and skinny-dips in Lake Crescent.
Hank clicked off the engine. The old Ford sputtered, coughed, and fell silent. “It seems odd to be bringing you back here. I’m suddenly afraid I missed a booster shot and they won’t let you start school. ”
