by Linda Warren
“I don’t know, Holly. I really don’t know.”
“Oh, Abby.”
“But I’ll be fine.” She brushed off a sense of doom that seemed to weigh her down. She had to overcome it. Opening the door, she heard Chloe screaming.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”
Chloe ran down the sidewalk and into her arms. Abby hung on to her until her arms ached. It was so good to hold her child. Chloe wiggled to get down, and then she took Abby’s hand. The trio made their way to the front door where her dad and Gayle were waiting.
Her dad put his arms around her. “Welcome home, my girl.”
Abby turned to Gayle and did something she wouldn’t ordinarily do. She hugged her, too. To Abby’s surprise, the hug was returned fiercely.
“Let’s go inside,” her dad said.
Abby stopped short in the den. A “Welcome Home” banner hung across the French doors with balloons of every color attached to it. She wanted to cry and didn’t know why. Maybe because she’d never been this welcome in her father’s house.
“Come, Mommy.” Chloe tugged on her hand and pulled her into the breakfast room. More balloons were tied to the chairs and a bouquet of yellow irises sat in the center of the table. A cake and punch were also on the table.
“See?” Chloe pointed. “Grandma and me made you a cake.”
“That was so sweet,” she replied and couldn’t find another word to say. She was that shocked.
“Sit,” Gayle said. “And we’ll all have a piece.”
Chloe scooted her chair with a booster seat closer to Abby. “I’m sitting by Mommy.”
Gayle served the cake and poured punch for everyone.
Chloe stared at the slice of coconut cake—Abby’s favorite. Gayle remembered, and Abby was touched.
“I don’t like white cake,” Chloe announced with a frown.
Gayle got to her feet. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. Grandma has your favorite.” She went into the kitchen and came back with a chocolate cupcake on a dessert dish.
“Yay!” Chloe clapped her hands.
Abby had a feeling her daughter was being spoiled here, but she didn’t have the energy to do anything about it at the moment. That would change, though.
Holly laid her napkin on the table. “I have a late shift, so I better go.”
“Bye,” Chloe called, her mouth full of chocolate cupcake.
Abby walked her to the door.
“You seem so down it’s breaking my heart,” Holly said.
“I’m just trying to adjust to everything that’s happened.”
“I know. If you need me, just call. Anytime. Night or day.”
“I will.”
Holly nodded over her shoulder. “It’s a little weird in there. Did Gayle have an out-of-body experience or something?”
“No. It’s just amazing what a kind gesture can do.”
“Oh.” Holly lifted an eyebrow.
“I’ll explain later.”
“Okay, friend.” Holly hugged her. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
“And call.”
“I will.”
There was an awkwardness between them now, and it had nothing to do with Holly. The tragedy had changed Abby. She was struggling to find herself, the woman she used to be. The woman who had the courage to get out of a bad marriage. The woman who was unafraid to step out on her own and raise her daughter. The woman who could handle anything life threw at her.
But now she felt like a child needing someone to hold her hand. And that was the biggest tragedy of all.
She went back into the breakfast room. “I’m a little tired. Do you mind if I lie down for a while?”
Gayle was immediately on her feet. “Of course not. I have your room ready.”
Chloe jumped out of her chair and grabbed Abby’s hand again. “Come look, Mommy.”
She followed her down the hall and into a bedroom. Abby stared in awe. Pink-and-white candy-striped furniture met her eyes. The bed had a rail on one side and a canopy of white lace trimmed in pink, which matched the white lace curtains. A large Barbie dollhouse sat in a corner. It was a room for a princess. Her dad and Gayle were spoiling her daughter royally.
“I prepared the bedroom next door for you,” Gayle was saying. “It shares a bath with Chloe’s room, but the other bedroom has a private bath if you’d rather have it.”
“No. I prefer to be close to Chloe.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They walked through a lavish bathroom with granite vanities into a lavender-and-ecru room. Gayle folded the comforter neatly and placed it in a chair.
Abby sat on the bed, feeling a little out of it. “I’ll rest for a while.”
Her dad came into the room. “Rest all you want.” He pointed to a desk. “Your breathing machine is hooked up and your medication and ointments are there, too.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She stretched out and Chloe crawled up beside her. “I’m resting with Mommy.”
Gayle flicked off the light as they walked out. Abby wrapped her arms around Chloe. “I missed you, baby.”
“Me, too, Mommy. Are you hurt?”
“No, baby.” She kissed her cheek. “Mommy’s fine.” But she knew she was far from fine. She prayed for strength to handle the days ahead.
Soon Chloe fell asleep, as did Abby. When she woke up, Chloe was gone and it was dark out. Knowing Chloe was with her dad and Gayle, she turned over and went back to sleep. The next time she awoke it was light out. She glanced at the bedside clock—7:00 a.m. She’d slept all night. Easing out of bed, she felt her muscles ache. She wondered how long it would take for her body to recover.
She went through the bathroom to check on Chloe. The bed was empty. Abby used the bathroom and washed her face. She hardly recognized the somber woman staring back at her. There was no light in her eyes or smile on her face. She looked tired and defeated. Where would she find the energy to change that?
Her skin was still red and peeling, but how she looked was a minor thing compared to her emotional state. She began to cough and she trailed back into the room for a breathing treatment. After putting the medication into the machine as the nurse had showed her, she sat in a chair to breathe it into her lungs. She had an appointment with a doctor in Austin tomorrow. He would monitor her recovery.
Afterward, she stared at the phone on the desk. On impulse she picked up the receiver and called information. She got the number for the burn unit in San Antonio and punched in the number. She told the nurse who she was and asked about Ethan’s condition.
Her response was that he was progressing very well, although he was a little grouchy about his confinement. She could just imagine that. Ethan was a man of action. Resisting the urge to talk to him, she thanked the nurse and hung up.
She had to let him go.
But how did she do that without losing the most important part of herself—her heart?
* * *
ABBY’S DAYS FELL into a routine. She rested, played with her daughter, had long talks with her father and spent her afternoons by the pool, watching Chloe swim. She sat on the patio in the shade. Her skin was too tender to endure the sun. She might never enjoy the sun again.
Every day she felt a little stronger, and soon she’d have to do something about her life. Doug came by every afternoon and they were able to talk without the anger and resentment. He wanted her to move back in with him, but she wasn’t ready for such a drastic step. Her emotions were still strongly attached to Ethan. She intended to take things slowly.
Detective Logan and Detective Beecher had come by with more questions. She had nothing else to tell them, but she definitely had heard Rudy mention a boss. They were still investigating. Devon’s appendix had burst and he was in the h
ospital for now. The case seemed to be at a standstill.
The bank had given her a month off with pay to aid her recovery. That eased her worries about money.
She’d gotten Mr. Harmon’s daughter’s address and written her a long letter, conveying her condolences. The image of his body lying so pale and still on the floor of the bank would always be with her, as would the horror of those two days. At night in her sleep, a hot suffocating feeling would come over her and she’d call for Ethan. But he was never there.
That hurt more than the memories that tortured her.
She called often about Ethan to keep tabs on his recovery. She learned he was going home at the end of the week, and she was excited for him. He could now return to his daughter.
She wondered if he ever thought about her. The night they shared. His touch was branded on her skin, her fingertips. All she had to do was close her eyes and he was there holding her, kissing her, making her aware of the passion that had been missing in her life.
How did she forget that when it was all she thought about?
The answer was easy: by leaving the cocoon and safety of her father’s house. She had to start living again.
Without Ethan.
* * *
“GRANDPA.”
Walt took a sip of his morning coffee. Lordy, if that child thought of one more thing they needed to do for Ethan’s homecoming, he might have to escape to the barn.
She breezed in with a sheet of paper in her hand. “I was looking on the internet for soft sheets for Dad’s sensitive skin. It said Egyptian cotton is the softest.”
“What’s wrong with American cotton?”
“I don’t know. I’m just telling you what I found.”
“Your dad is tough as an old boot and he’s not gonna want some sissified sheets.”
Her eyes narrowed just like Ethan’s when Walt said something he didn’t like. “They’re not sissified. They’re soft.”
“Same thing.”
She rolled her eyes.
Walt tried another tactic. “We ordered those cooling pads and he’ll sleep on those.”
“You can’t just put cooling pads on a mattress. He needs soft sheets. I’ll check online to see if Macy’s or Dillard’s has them.”
“Who’s paying for this?”
She glanced at him. “You are.”
“You’re very free with my money.”
“It’s just money, Grandpa.”
“Says someone who doesn’t have any.”
She made a face and went back to the computer in Ethan’s room.
“Your dad is not going to use any of the stuff the doctor ordered. He’s stubborn,” he shouted after her.
“Like someone else I know,” she shouted back.
“Aw, I’m going to check on my cows.”
“Don’t stay too long. We have to go to the mall.”
“The mall! I don’t do malls.”
“We have to get the sheets.”
“Shih Tzu.”
“Shih Tzu to you, too.” She giggled and Walt smiled.
He didn’t know what he was so grouchy about. He was happy his son was coming home. The good Lord had answered all his prayers, but all of Kelsey’s preparations were for naught. Ethan wasn’t a mollycoddling kind. He’d go back to work as soon as he could and no one would ever know his pain, especially his daughter.
Walt headed for the back door. Kelsey had to find that out on her own. Having a granddaughter was great, but sometimes she was a pain in his keister.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER they were at the Barton Creek Mall in Austin.
Kelsey undid her seat belt. “I can go get the stuff so you don’t have to walk so far.”
“You’re not going into a mall alone,” he told her, glancing at all the parked cars and people trailing inside. “Too many people.”
A grueling hour later Walt was revising his decision. His feet ached and his head hurt. They’d gotten items on Ethan’s list like boxers, baggy shorts, big T-shirts and a pair of brown Croc shoes. But they still hadn’t gotten the sheets. Kelsey didn’t like the color at Macy’s so they had to traipse all the way to Dillard’s. A sheet was a sheet to him. He didn’t understand all the fuss.
Finally, she found something that caught her fancy. She held up two sheets. “Camel or brown, Grandpa?”
“Camel. Let’s go.”
“I don’t know,” she wavered.
“Ethan loves camel. Let’s go.” He had no idea which was which. They both looked brown to him. He just wanted to get out of the busy place. Everywhere he stood, some woman was trying to push past him. Women were like cows at a feed trough, anxious to get all the good stuff before it was gone.
He almost lost his breakfast when the lady rang up the items, but he paid for them. Good thing he’d brought his checkbook. Shopping bags in hand they headed for the truck, which was clear across the mall now.
Suddenly, Kelsey stopped. “Grandpa...”
“No. We’re not buying one more thing.”
“This is important,” she said in a low, tearful sound. Damn. He was dead meat.
“What?”
She waved a hand to his right and he noticed some sort of beauty salon. “Can we see how much it costs to get my hair turned brown again?”
“Oh, no. That’s something for your dad to handle.”
“Please, Grandpa. I want it brown like it is in the photo on his nightstand when he comes home. Please.”
“Oh, Lordy, child.” He walked into the place and a scent like ammonia hit him in the face like a dead fish. Hair spray and other foul smells clogged his sinuses. Brightly colored bottles decorated a shelf. Women sat in chairs while stylists did their hair. A reception area was to the left and he spoke to the young woman who sat at the desk.
“My granddaughter would like—” He glanced at Kelsey. “You tell the lady what you want done.”
“I want my hair to be brown again.”
“Oh.” The woman was chewing gum about ninety miles an hour. In between chews, she shouted, “Janine, up front, please.”
A girl in black boots, a short skirt and a skimpy top sashayed over. “What is it?”
Walt was mesmerized by her hair. It was spiky and dyed a bright red. The tips were green.
“This girl would like her hair returned to its natural color,” the chewing gum lady said. “Can you do it?”
“Mmm.” Janine felt Kelsey’s hair. “Was it colored in a salon or did you do it at home?”
“My mom did it at home, but she bought the products at a beauty supply place.”
“How many times has it been colored?”
“Just once.”
“Mmm.” She studied Kelsey’s hair. “The purple is dark and might be a problem, but, sure, I’ll give it a try. Just realize it might turn orange.”
“Orange!” Walt had heard enough. “No. We better wait and let your dad handle this.”
“Grandpa, please.” Her sad, soulful eyes begged him.
“Aw, all right. What is this gonna cost?”
“About two hundred dollars,” the girl replied.
“Are you Shih Tzuing me?”
“W-hat?”
Kelsey took his arm and pulled him aside. “I’ll do the dishes, the laundry and anything else to help pay for it. Grandpa, please.”
And quicker than he could swat a mosquito, he found himself sitting in a beauty salon waiting for his granddaughter.
“Would you like something to drink?” the lady at the desk asked.
“No, thanks.”
After thirty minutes of flipping through women’s magazines and seeing more skin than he ought to, he took a Coke. Then he had to go to the bathroom. He left his packages wit
h the lady and set out to find one. After that, he sat again.
Getting tired, he went outside the shop to call Henry, and then he stretched his legs. Walking back in he had to go around a girl to find his seat.
“You didn’t recognize me.”
Walt whirled around and stared. She looked so much like Ethan it was eerie. Her brown hair hung down her back in bouncy curls.
“What do you think?”
“No orange. Good.”
“Yeah. Now you have to pay her.”
He pulled out his checkbook and wrote a check.
“You have to tip her, too,” Kelsey whispered.
“Two hundred dollars is enough.”
“Grandpa.”
“Humph.” He found a five in his pocket and placed it with the check.
As they walked through the mall to the truck, Kelsey kept looking at herself in the glass store windows. She was happy.
That was worth every penny.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HE WAS GOING HOME.
And it wasn’t soon enough.
Ethan paced his hospital room in his boxers. Carson and Levi were on the way to pick him up, to save his dad the long trip. His release papers were signed and he was more than ready to bust out of this place. Not that Ethan wasn’t appreciative of the medical care he’d received. He was. He’d just been confined too long.
The doctor said he was a fast healer. Once the blisters dried up his pain lessened, and now he had a lot of red peeling skin. The good part was he could tolerate pressure on his back and calves. He just needed clothes. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Where were Carson and Levi?
He sat on the side of the bed and wondered how Abby was doing. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her—which was probably normal under the circumstances. They’d been bonded by horrific circumstances. He had no doubt she’d put her life back together. She was strong, resilient. She’d make it.
Feeling restless, he got up. He hoped she wasn’t too lenient with the ex. She deserved better than a guy who’d cheat on her. Whoa. He was the one who’d encouraged her to forgive. So what was his problem?
The vivid memory of her hands touching his skin tentatively, and then aggressively, rolled through his mind. He took a deep breath. He had to stop thinking of that night.
