by Marta Perry
When did you have a chance to be a little girl, Annie?
She touched one of the upstairs rooms. “This was the girls’ room. Every night, Becca would bring the mommy doll in here to kiss them good-night. I guess it was her way of coping when our mother was away.”
Unable to resist, he captured her hand in his. “How did you cope, Annie?”
She looked surprised. “I had Becca to take care of.”
“You were a child yourself.” He thought about Marcy, sleeping securely in her crib in spite of all that had happened in her young life. “You needed someone to kiss you good-night, too.”
He realized the words were a mistake as soon as he spoke. They made him too aware of her closeness in the quiet room. Her lips parted, and he remembered how they tasted. The slightest movement by either of them and they’d be in each other’s arms again.
Annie drew back, a flush warming her cheeks. “You—you must find it odd to be working on an old-fashioned Victorian.”
She spoke as if any subject would do to fill up the silence they might otherwise fill with a kiss.
“All of your houses are modern, aren’t they?”
If that was how Annie wanted it, he couldn’t do anything but go along. “It’s not really so different, except in style. The Victorians built homes for the way people lived then. I build homes for the way people live now. I’ve liked the Victorian style since I was a kid.”
He stopped. Only the silence and the need to ease Annie’s obvious discomfort would send him down that road of memory.
“Why is that?”
She was clearly confident that he’d share his thoughts with her. Maybe she had the right to expect that. They’d come a long way in a few short weeks.
He propped his elbows on the table, frowning at the dollhouse’s gingerbread trim. He reached out to touch it lightly.
“I remember a street lined with houses like this.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure where. Maybe in northwestern Pennsylvania.”
She was silent, but her very stillness seemed to force him to continue.
“The street might have been Maple, or Chestnut. Streets like those were usually named for trees, I decided.”
“Streets like those?”
“The kind of street where the houses had been there for a hundred years or so. The kind of street where real families had lived in real houses for generations.”
He shrugged, trying to shake off the heaviness of the memory. “I must have been about eight the first time I noticed a neighborhood like that. Then I figured out that every new town we went to had one, and I started looking for them.”
That search had been a relief, in a way, from the succession of dingy apartments and dingier motels he and his mother had lived in. He’d been dreaming, but they hadn’t been bad dreams. When his mother was drinking, he could always go out and walk by those houses.
Annie put her hand on his shoulder. He felt her warmth permeate his shirt and touch his skin.
“I’d look at the lights and try to figure out what kind of people lived in houses like that.” He’d imagined what it would be like to belong there, among the lucky ones. He shrugged, uncomfortably aware of how much he was revealing. “Kid stuff, I guess. Wanting what’s on the other side of the fence.”
“That’s why you went into building, isn’t it?” Her words arrowed right into his heart. “So you could create the thing you didn’t have.”
Annie heard her own words and was aghast at her temerity. How could she have asked Link something so personal? The lines in their relationship had blurred in the past weeks, but she shouldn’t be pressing into an area that was not only private but probably also painful.
“I’m sorry.” She clenched the hand she’d rested on his shoulder, her nails biting into her palm. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business.”
Link shook his head slowly. “It’s okay.” He looked surprised at himself. “I don’t know that I ever thought of it that way, but maybe you have a point. Homes have always fascinated me—not skyscrapers or institutions. Just homes for ordinary people to live in.”
Her throat had gone tight with tension, and she tried to speak naturally. “That’s a very worthwhile thing. Homes should be beautiful as well as functional.”
“I always felt that if I could get the—” He stopped, seeming at a loss for words, and made an amorphous shape with his hands.
“Well, the shell of the house, but not just that. If I could get the physical structure right, it ought to help ensure happiness for the people who live there.” He shrugged, one corner of his mouth lifting in a half smile. “Or maybe I’m just being self-important about what I do.”
“It’s not self-important to put your best self into your work.” Tears stung her eyes. “That’s why the lakeside project is going to be so beautiful.”
His mouth firmed. “I hope so. Davis and I felt good about what we were doing there. It always meant something special to me, but now—well, now, it’s like I have to finish it to fulfill Davis’s dream, as well as my own.”
“You’ve come a long way.” Did he realize how far?
He leaned back, fixing his gaze on her face. “You know what I wanted when I was a kid, Annie. Your turn. What did you want?” He lifted one hand, palm out. “And don’t tell me you wanted to take care of Becca. I already know that. What did you want for Annie?”
Her mind scrambled to come up with something. She couldn’t say some routine childhood wish, like a pony, not when he’d opened his heart to her. And then it popped into her mind, as if it had been there all along.
“You’ll laugh,” she warned. “It wasn’t a very worthy ambition.”
He took her hand, holding it lightly. She knew he’d let her go at the slightest indication, but she didn’t move.
“Tell me.”
“I always wanted to be like Becca.” She felt her cheeks grow warm, and she knew she was figuring this out as she went along. “Well, you knew her. Everyone loved Becca. She just radiated warmth, and people were drawn to her. I wanted to be like that but I didn’t know how. I still don’t. I think it’s something you’re either born with or not.”
He enveloped her hand in both of his, and she felt protected. “You’re talking about your parents, aren’t you?”
She had to nod. “Yes.” It was hard to speak around the lump in her throat. “They love me, of course. But Becca made their faces light up. And mine, too.” She smiled, remembering. “We were never competitive, like sisters sometimes are when they’re close in age. You know, she even got me a date for the prom. She said if I didn’t go, she wouldn’t. That was Becca. She’d do anything for people she loved.”
“She was one of a kind,” Link said quietly. His grip tightened. “But so are you.” He lifted her hand between his and kissed it. The touch of his lips moved straight from her hand to her heart. “I’d say both the Gideon girls turned out pretty special.”
Her heart seemed to swell. Did he really mean that?
Maybe it didn’t matter. He’d said it, and that should be enough for her.
The careful defenses she’d kept around her heart for so long crumbled into dust. She’d given away too many pieces to Link in the past few weeks. Would there be anything left of her when their time together came to an end?
That thought was still in the back of Annie’s mind a few days later, much like the pot of potatoes she had simmering on the back stove burner. It didn’t require looking at all the time, but it was there.
She glanced into the family room to be sure Marcy was still safely occupied with her easel and crayons. Marcy loved to color, but was just as likely to color her way off the easel and onto the surrounding furniture if not watched. She hadn’t given Becca enough credit for her ability to do so many things at once.
In a way, things had been better since that conversation with Link on Sunday night. It was as if, with his secrets out in the open, Link could relax.
She wished she could do the s
ame. The little worm of worry came out when she least expected it. She understood why the project was so important to him—it was his measure of success. She just couldn’t help but wonder how he’d take it if something went wrong.
At least the latest visit from Mrs. Bradshaw had gone well. She’d happened to arrive when Marcy was in her sunniest mood, and the house, for once, had been cleaned up enough to look passable. She’d seemed impressed by the photo album they’d started putting together, and had actually smiled warmly at Annie when she left, as if with approval.
Voices from the porch startled her, and she turned down the burner under the chicken. Marcy beat her to the door and threw herself at Link as soon as he opened it.
Link grabbed her, tossing her in the air, and Jenna came through the door behind him, laughing at the sight.
“I met Jenna at the curb,” Link said. He perched Marcy on his shoulder. “She was afraid she’d interrupt our dinner, but I said we always have time for her.”
“Of course we do.” Annie held out her hand to the woman who’d been Becca’s close friend. “Come sit down.”
“I can’t stay long.” Jenna closed the door behind her, and Annie realized she looked worried. “But I just had to talk to you.”
Something was wrong. Annie gestured toward the couch, then sat down next to Jenna. She didn’t know what, but something was wrong. Link plopped Marcy down beside her easel and came to sit on the arm of the sofa, his hand resting on Annie’s shoulder as if for support. So he had the same instinct.
Jenna bit her lip, a frown line forming between her brows. “I’ve been worrying about this since last night. And praying, too.” She gave them a ghost of a smile. “Pastor Garth would say I should have prayed first, and then I wouldn’t have to worry.”
“What is it? Has something happened?” Annie’s hands knotted together.
“Maybe it’s not important, but—well, you know the church supper was last night.”
Annie nodded. “We were going to go, but Link got stuck at the project. And Marcy didn’t take a very good nap. She was so tired I was afraid she’d have a meltdown if I took her out.”
“Believe me, I know how that can be.” Jenna rolled her eyes. “Anyone who’s ever had kids would understand.”
Link’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “But somebody didn’t understand, I take it.”
“I don’t want to feel like I’m telling tales, but anyone could have heard them. Julia and Frank, I mean.”
Something cold seized Annie’s heart. “What did they say?”
“That you weren’t even trying to be part of the community.” Jenna’s cheeks flushed. “I know that’s not true, but I’m afraid maybe some other people don’t. Then Frank said you planned to run back to Boston as soon as the hearing is over, so you don’t even want to make friends here.”
Annie felt as if she’d taken a blow. “Jenna, I—”
Jenna reached across to hug her. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. We’re friends, whatever the Lesters say.” She clasped Link’s hand. “Both of you.”
It was a good thing Jenna didn’t expect her to explain, because she couldn’t. She could just hug her back and try not to cry.
Jenna released her at last. “Look at us, being silly.” She got up quickly. “Listen, I have to get home to my family, but I wanted you to know. Remember, I’m on your side.”
Link followed her to the door and held it for her. “Thanks, Jenna. You’re a good friend.”
She patted his cheek and then hurried out the door, obviously relieved that this was over.
Annie got to her feet as Link closed the door. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.” She shook her head. “I should have gone, even if you couldn’t. If I’d been there—”
“If you’d been there, Frank and Julia would have found another way to spread a little poison about us.” Link’s matter-of-fact tone didn’t leave any room to argue. “That’s how they are. We can’t stop them from talking.”
She rubbed her forehead. “It’s not just the Lesters. What about people like Jenna? She’s standing up for us, when we’re really planning to do just what the Lesters are accusing us of. I feel like such a fraud.”
Link caught her hands, pulling her to face him. “Would you rather lose Marcy?” he said bluntly. “Because that’s what we’re talking about here.”
“No, of course not.” She yanked her hands free. “Marcy is worth anything. But that doesn’t keep me from feeling like a rat for lying to Jenna.”
“You didn’t lie to her. You just didn’t tell her everything.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Link drove his hand through his hair. “Annie, listen, I can’t say this is all okay. Lord knows, I struggle with it, too. But we knew that going in. We decided this was what we had to do. That hasn’t changed.”
Remorse still pricked her, but Link was right. They couldn’t confide in anyone, not even Jenna. They could only keep going and hope the hearing went their way.
A chill touched her. Time was ticking away.
“It’s only a little over a week until the hearing. What if Mrs. Bradshaw hears what the Lesters are saying?”
He shrugged. “They’ve probably already said it to her. We just have to hope she’s wise enough to take whatever they say with a grain of salt.”
Hope. Lord, I’ve been hoping, but I’m afraid.
“We have to do something,” she said. “We have to. But what can we do to counteract rumors?”
Link gave her a grim smile. “We’re going to do something. We’re going to beat the Lesters at their own game.”
She didn’t think she liked the sound of that. “How? What are you thinking?”
“Saturday night is the Downtown Business Association’s annual dinner dance. Frank and Julia are the co-chairs, as a matter of fact.”
“What does that have to do with us?”
“We’re going to it, that’s all.”
“But how can we? Isn’t that just for members?”
He gave her a look of exaggerated patience. “The office of Conrad and Morgan is downtown, remember? Davis and I took out a membership, even though we’ve never been very involved. I’ll stop by tomorrow and get our tickets.”
“I still don’t see what that will prove.”
“It will show people we’re members of the business community. It will show that we’re a couple.”
Marcy flung herself at Link’s legs just then, as if giving her approval of his plan. He swung her into the air.
“Link and Nan are going to a party, sweet girl. Nan’s going to get dressed up and be the prettiest woman there.”
It was a sign of how far he’d come into her heart that his words made her glow with pleasure in spite of her reservations about this scheme.
“I’m not so sure about that.” She fell back on the oldest excuse in the world. “Besides, I didn’t bring anything with me suitable to wear.”
“Then, you and Marcy better take a walk downtown tomorrow and pick out something pretty.”
His smile was confident, as if he knew she’d do what he wanted her to.
“Relax, Annie. It may not be the high school prom, but it will be fun. And our presence will tell anyone who’s interested that Mr. and Mrs. Link Morgan are for real.”
Unfortunately, they weren’t. But she knew she’d go along with Link’s idea anyway, because there didn’t seem to be any other way.
Chapter Twelve
The ringing of the doorbell on Saturday evening made Annie’s stomach turn over, and she stopped at the top of the stairs, gripping the banister. She could see the lights from the family room below, hear the sound of Link’s footsteps as he went to the door.
The doorbell’s ring meant that Nora was here to baby-sit with Marcy. In a few minutes she and Link would be on their way to the dinner dance he’d talked her into attending.
She pressed her hand against her stomach, hoping to calm herself. The soft coral silk of the new d
ress she’d bought felt smooth and comforting against her palm. Jenna had gone shopping with her, helping her to choose a dress that was perfectly suited to the occasion. Now if only she could live up to the dress.
Who was she trying to fool? This wasn’t just a question of attending a social event. This evening was far more important than that.
The custody hearing raced toward them like a tornado set on obliterating everything in its path. In less than a week, for good or ill, this would be over.
Would it be better or worse to have an idea where they stood with the social worker? She wasn’t sure—didn’t know if she wanted to find out, even if she could.
She seemed to be groping through a fog, trying to find the landmarks that would tell her she was on the right path. But she couldn’t. She didn’t even know, at this point, what was important.
This dinner dance? Link seemed to think so. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her skittish nerves.
Lord, I’m scared again. You must be tired of hearing me say that. I wish I felt that perfect confidence other Christians seem to have, but I don’t.
Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She did feel confident that fighting for Marcy was the thing God wanted her to be doing.
It’s not the cause that’s troubling me, Father. Please, show me how to fight this battle in the way that You intend me to.
She took a deep breath and started down the stairs.
Nora was handing her jacket to Link. “My goodness, but it’s crisp outside.” She swung toward Annie, her blue eyes sparkling. “Annie, you look a picture. Doesn’t she, Link?”
Annie felt her cheeks heat as he obediently looked, smiling a little.
“A very pretty picture,” he said. He shoved the sleeve of his dark suit jacket back to check his watch. “And it’s time we were on our way.”
Marcy, already in her pajamas, trotted to Nora. “Car,” she announced, holding up her toy car.
Nora sat down on the rug beside her. “Aren’t you just the smartest girl in the whole wide world.” She hugged her. “Well, get along with you. Marcy and I will be fine.”
