by Robin Janney
She groaned in protest. “I was nine, and it was summer.”
“A summer romance? Nice. Anybody I know?” He liked being this close to her. There was a light blueberry scent mixed in with the usual roses.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
“It was Stinky Mallone.”
Craig did laugh. “The same Stinky you were beating up two years later?”
“The same.” Angela yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. “We were playing tag with the kids who were over…Stinky, Derek, Angus and Beth – the Barry twins. We were all racing around and Stinky caught me around the back of the tree, planted a big wet one on me, told me I was ‘it’ and ran away. I’ll have to tell you how he got his nickname sometime.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said. She sounded drowsy and there was something they needed to talk about before she drifted off. He cleared his throat. “Do you want to wait until after your doctor’s appointment to come into work, or leave and come back? I’ll need to know so I can make sure you’re covered either way.”
“I’ll come in and leave.” She made a sleepy sound, pulling her legs onto the seat and somehow leaned in closer to him. “Craig. What were all your questions about earlier? You wouldn’t ask me to give up my schooling, would you?”
“Of course not.” He really hadn’t been too clear, had he? He wondered if she would remember this conversation. He hoped she would, so he wouldn’t have to repeat anything. “I couldn’t do that to you. I hear the joy in your voice when you’ve been working with Doc Maynard. I couldn’t take that away from you. Or your farm. It would be cruel. I was…”
He took a deep breath. “I think about the future sometimes. Where our relationship is heading. I was just trying to find out what your expectations where, trying to figure out what my own are.”
“I was hoping it was something like that.” She made another soft sound. “You’ll let go of the past someday, too. I know it.”
“I’m glad you think so. Some days it doesn’t feel like it’ll ever happen. I’ve spent over half my life in fear. You don’t get over something like that overnight.” When she didn’t answer, he assumed she’d fallen asleep. He was surprised when she spoke again, in a low tone just above a whisper.
“Can I tell you what I’m afraid of?”
“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” he commented lightly. What was he about to hear? “The Fearless Angela Carman hides her fear pretty well, but I’ve seen some of it. Are you afraid of me, Angel? If so, tell me what to change.”
“No, it’s not like that. I’ve been in love alone before, and I pushed too hard and drove him away. At least, it felt like love. By the time he confessed he loved me too, it was too late. You remind me so much of him sometimes. So different, so similar.”
It had been a long speech for someone who sounded so close to sleep. He didn’t know who she could be talking about and decided that wasn’t the issue right now. He could ask some other time. “I don’t plan on going anywhere, Angel. So, you can write that fear off.”
“You just said fear doesn’t go away overnight.” She yawned again. “Your turn, if you can.”
“My fear?” He had been afraid she was going to want an equal exchange. Still, did it matter at this point? Hadn’t he just told her she wasn’t in love alone? “In short – intimacy.”
“How so?”
He made the turn in Tyler’s Grove main intersection. Her apartment was drawing near. “Every way you can think of. I’m afraid to let people get too close to me emotionally. Fear of rejection; that you’ll leave if you learn what was done to me. I’m afraid to touch you, to be touched, because I don’t know what my reaction is going to be…afraid I won’t be able control my response and hurt you somehow. I’m afraid I won’t be able to pleasure you.”
“Oh.”
She said that whenever she was at a loss of words. He needed more of a response, but he couldn’t ask for it. Pulling into the parking lot of Dodge’s apartment building, he parked a bit diagonally to shorten the walking distance. Her apartment was dark, not even her window candles were lit. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Opening the driver’s side door, he unbuckled and hopped out. He held his arms out to help her out his side. He watched her a moment, thinking she looked a little unsteady on her feet. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a little tired. I’ll be okay. Will you bring my things in?”
“Sure, go ahead.” He watched her move towards the short set of steps. She was moving like she was sore. He retrieved the box from the other side, sliding her sleek black purse on top of everything.
Angela had the kitchen light on and was holding the door open for him. As he walked by her, she said, “Just set it on the table.”
He did so, watching as she shut the door and took her coat off. She hung her coat over the back of a chair and kicked her shoes off haphazardly under the table. He watched her begin to unpack the box, separating food from the gifts she’d received.
“Do you want any of these leftovers my mom sent? To go along with the banana bread?” She set the plastic wrapped loaf on the table in front of him. It even had a gift bow on it. “She always sends too much. I try to eat it, but I can never finish it before it goes bad.”
“No, I’m fine. Unless there’s some blueberry pie in there.” He took a moment to look around her apartment. It wasn’t big, but it felt warm and inviting. He knew the colors on the walls probably weren’t her choice; the kitchen walls were bright white, but she’d softened them with a few pictures. There was a group of family pictures on the wall above the table, and he was mildly surprised to see Randy in a couple of the older pictures.
“I didn’t take all the pies to the farm,” Angela was saying, oblivious to his inspections. “I don’t know why I kept one. Would you like it?”
“How about I come up some night after work and have a piece with you?” He was amused to see how she unpacked the box as efficiently as her mother had packed it. She was smiling as she placed containers in an older refrigerator.
“I’d like that. Would you like a piece before you go home? I could make some coffee.”
He didn’t see a coffee pot on her counter, but didn’t comment on it. “I’d love to, but I think I should leave soon so you can get to bed.”
“I want to protest, but I think you’re right.” She checked her watch. “I should be alright if I pop a sleeping pill, but could you call me around nine to make sure I’m awake?”
“Sure.” There was a silence, and he was wondering if it was his cue to leave. She was moving too slow for his liking still, but her hands were fidgeting with her coat and she was standing between him and the door.
“Craig. Uhm, thank you for saving me today.” She took a step toward him, just one.
“I just pulled you out of the water and got you inside. Your family did the rest.”
“I wouldn’t have made it that far, if it weren’t for you. Well, maybe. Mom said they were watching too. But, thank you.”
He hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets, unconsciously taking on a stubborn stance. Angela looked like she wanted to hug him, and if it happened…he wasn’t sure what he’d do. “I’m just glad you’d made it as close to the shore as you did. Otherwise I’d have gotten a lot wetter than what I did.”
She nodded, still looking uncertain.
And his heart was pounding. At least in the laundry room there had been no warning. This standing here wondering was killing him.
“Craig. I’m sorry I hugged you, in the laundry room. I wasn’t trying to rush you, or anything. It’s just your gift made me so happy and…and I almost forgot about yours. Hang on.”
She rushed by him, walking deeper into her narrow living room. He turned to watch her. Disappointment filled him. He wished she’d hugged him. On the far side of the living room, in front of two large windows was a little Christmas tree with a single small box under it. She fetched it and brought it to him, meeting him
in the archway between the two rooms.
“It’s not much. It doesn’t compare to the bracelet.”
Craig took the box, a smile on his face. “It’s the thought that counts, right? I’m sure it’s fine.” He made quick work of the wrapping and opened the box. He chuckled in confused amusement. “A pencil sharpener?”
She shrugged. “Becky said you like to sketch, and I looked at a lot of stuff. I wasn’t sure what kind of pencils you use, but I figured they need to be sharpened. It doubles as a paperweight too.”
“I like it,” he said. Of all the gifts he’d ever been given, no one had ever given him anything related to his hobby. Not even Grandma Annie had done so. “I really do. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She fidgeted again. “Oh, don’t forget the banana bread.”
She walked around him again.
He followed her and took the loaf from her, placing it and her gift in the crook of his arm. Definitely a cue to leave. “Angela.”
She glanced up at him. “Yes?”
“I’m not sorry you hugged me. I’m sorry we were interrupted.”
Her anxiety visibly faded away. “Me too.”
“I don’t know when I can try again.”
She nodded. “No pressure. Can I kiss you on the cheek again?”
“I’d like that.” He bent a little so she wouldn’t have so far to reach, and his heart beat a little faster as her warm lips pressed against his cheek. An impulse hit him as she landed back on her heels. He followed through before he could overthink it. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her forehead. He smiled as a blush covered her face. “I’ll go now.”
She nodded. As his hand hit the doorknob, she spoke again. “Craig.”
He turned back to her and waited.
“I don’t know what happened to you. I think I might have an idea. If I’m right, and if there are things we can’t do…I’m okay with that. But if you did want to, when you’re ready…you won’t be rejected.”
Now his anxiety dissipated. He walked back to her and pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Thank you. I just need a little time.”
“No pressure,” she whispered.
“Merry Christmas, Angel.”
“Merry Christmas.” She followed him to the door, shutting it behind him.
Her phone rang as she watched Craig drive away, and she let it go to the answering machine. Apparently, her stalker wasn’t going to take Christmas off.
Pity.
With a sigh, Angela pulled the nearest kitchen chair to the door and wedged it under the doorknob. She didn’t know if it would stop an intruder, but hopefully it’d be enough to slow him down.
30
W hen the office phone rang the next afternoon, Craig answered it automatically. “Country Cupboard, this is Craig Moore.”
“Craig, it’s Philip.”
“What’s up?” He abandoned his sketching and leaned back in his seat.
“I’m just checking to see if my daughter is there. Dr. Evans called and said she hasn’t shown up yet.” Concern and frustration mingled in the father’s voice.
Craig glanced at his watch. “She left here about an hour ago. She mentioned stopping at her apartment for something, so maybe she’s just running late.”
“Better that than the roads. It’s been sleeting again.” Philip sighed. “She didn’t give you a hard time, did she?”
“No, not at all.” Maybe rolled her eyeballs a little, but she hadn’t argued. Craig didn’t think the other man needed to know everything.
“There’s a small miracle. Look, while I have you. Maude and I’ve discussed this, and we think it would be a good idea if Jared started spending Sunday afternoons with his family again. I hope it doesn’t deter you from spending time with my daughter.”
Maybe it was time to try spending time alone with her outside of the store, especially since he’d begun thinking of Angela as his girlfriend. “No,” he decided. “It won’t.”
“Good,” Philip said again, sounding pleased. “Do you know whether you’ll be spending New Year’s Eve with her?”
“I…completely forgot about New Year’s Eve.”
Philip’s laughter reminded him of Angela. It was joyful and heartfelt, free of malice. “Well, don’t take too long to figure it out.”
“I won’t.” Especially since it was a lot closer than Thanksgiving had been. “I’ll call you when Angela gets back.”
“Appreciate it.”
Hanging up with the other man, Craig stood and left the office. He made his way to the front of the store and looked out the large windows. It was a typical winter afternoon, white and cold. He could see the crunchy layer of sleet on top of the previous snowfall. And even now, snow flurries danced in the air again.
“Everything okay? You looked worried.” David appeared from nowhere; even on his day off, he had a habit of appearing when needed. He passed a gallon of whole milk from hand to hand as he stood next to his boss.
“I just heard from Angela’s father. She hasn’t made it to her doctor’s appointment yet.”
“She probably got held up in the crash on Chandler’s Hill. We just got back from Sawyersville ourselves. Had to go around because the road’s shut down.”
Craig turned his head and looked at David in disbelief. In his dreams this morning, the Beast had mocked him about trying to kill Angela. Claimed he had broken the ice beneath her. He didn’t believe in demons…but if Angela was involved in the crash somehow, he might have to change his mind. “Did you get close enough to see any of the vehicles?”
“Nah. They were stopping people on the outskirts of Sawyersville. I’m sure she wasn’t in it, probably just wasn’t able to turn around to reroute.”
“You don’t sound convinced yourself.” Craig looked back out the window. “Any chance you could be on standby in case I need to step out?”
“Yeah. I just need to take the milk home. Santa finished off the last this morning.”
“That’s fine. Just speculation at this point.” Looking to see who was manning the cash registers, he was a little irritated Larry wasn’t on today. The two working now were still new. “Karen, you know what Angela’s car looks like right?”
The short woman nodded from her station. Flo was checking out, but didn’t seem to mind the interruption; she was here so often anymore that Craig was beginning to wonder if she worked here and he just didn’t know it yet. “Sure, it’s that little green number.”
“Keep an eye out for it. Call back to the office the second she pulls in.” He began to walk away, stopped and turned back to David. “Do you pray?”
The other man nodded. “Trust me, I’ll be praying nonstop until I hear whether she was in the accident or not.”
“Thanks.” Returning to his office, he left the door open and sat at his desk. “I have no idea who I’d even call to find out,” he said to the empty room. This is what he got for not making better friends and contacts in the area. He found the number for the farm and dialed it.
“Is she back?” asked Philip without greeting when he came on the line.
“No, but I just found out there’s an accident on Chandler’s Hill. I don’t know if she was involved, or if she was just delayed because of it. Dave said they had the road shut down.” He pushed papers around on his desk. “I don’t know if there’s anyone we can call to find out, so I called you.”
“It would be just her luck,” muttered Philip. “I’ll make a few phone calls. If Miles is still waiting for her at the hospital, he’ll be one of the first to know.”
“Alright thanks. I’ll call you if she shows back up here.”
“And I’ll call you when I find something out.”
Craig hung up and tried to return to his sketch. It was an image from yesterday when Angela had opened the gift from her sister. A three-tiered dreamcatcher with purple and pink feathers. No words had been exchanged between the sisters aside from ‘thank you’ and smiles. And ten minutes later the younger sister w
as yelling down the steps at Angela, who had hollered back…which brought a yell from Philip. There had been no real anger in his correction, and Craig wondered if it was a weird family tradition, especially since everyone had laughed afterward.
Like how he and Tim had taken turns placing animals in each other’s beds when they spent summers with Grandma Annie out in Montana. How she had scolded them, laughing so hard she’d had tears coming out of her liquid blue eyes. He was certain his grandmother would have liked Angela.
At length, the phone rang, and he answered it. “Country Cupboard. This is Craig.”
“I just got off the phone with Miles, Dr. Evans,” Philip said without preamble. “Angela was brought into St. Joseph’s emergency room a few minutes ago.”
“Is she okay?” Craig sat his sketchbook to the side.
The father on the other end of the phone sounded as shaky as Craig felt by the time he was done talking. “He’s ordered some tests but says everything looks minor. Cuts, bruises, probably a concussion. God, she is a miserable child when she has a concussion so be prepared for grumpiness. He thinks she had a panic attack at some point because she reportedly passed out at the sight of the ambulance. Apparently, her car sits at the bottom of the ravine and she’d almost climbed her way back to the top when the paramedics found her.”
“Are you serious? That’s a thirty-foot drop.”
“Thirty-three, actually. Thank God it wasn’t the section of the sheer drop off; otherwise, they’d still be trying to get her out. Dr. Evans would like to keep her for an overnight, for observation. I’m going to go and try to convince her to agree to it. Want to come help?”
He’d have been going no matter what. “I’ll meet you there.”
