“I’ll keep watch for you, Miss Annie.”
“Thanks, Otis.” Without seeing, she stumbled back inside to the kitchen, closing the door behind her and locking it. He was here. It had to be.
After Billy dropped her at Drake’s front door, she found him reading in the front room, his feet once again on the coffee table. He stood when she came into the room. “I can tell by your face something happened. What is it?”
“I think he’s here.” She told him of Otis’s story.
He sank into the couch. “I’d like to dismiss this as a schizophrenic’s delusion but I have to agree with you. It must be him.”
“What do we do?”
“I’ll call the deputy in the morning. See if we can get some kind of surveillance.”
Fred? Surely Drake knew Fred would serve no good purpose.
Chapter 13
The next morning Annie slept past nine o’clock. She wandered into the kitchen, dressed in her workout clothes, to find Alder and Drake in the kitchen, cooking. Alder grinned at her before wrapping his arms around her neck. “Shoot, Mom, you’re awake. We were going to bring you breakfast in bed.”
There was a bowl of whipped eggs near the stove and a frying pan sizzling with butter. Drake was cutting up a cantaloupe and adding it to a dish with fresh blackberries. “Morning,” he said to her. “You get enough sleep?”
She glanced at the clock. “Yes. I’m sorry I slept so late. I should be making breakfast, not you two.” She peered at him. His eyes were bloodshot. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Couple of hours.”
“And what time did you get up, Alder?” She put her hands on the sides of his delicious cheeks.
“I slept until eight, Mom. We did so many things yesterday I guess I was extra tired.”
“So I heard. How’s the swimming hole?”
“Mom, it’s so badass. Even better than Tommy’s. There’s this big giant deep pool and you can jump off these tall rocks. It’s the best.”
“I’m so glad to hear that, but again, watch your language.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Alder popped several berries in his mouth.
“Maybe we can go tomorrow?”
Alder turned to Drake. “Can we? Would you take us?”
“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” asked Drake.
She sat at the counter, playing with a fork, spinning it around in a circle. “I’ve decided to take another day off a week.”
“Really, Mom?” Alder’s face was incredulous. “Why?”
“I’ve just been thinking about how life is short and Billy’s perfectly capable of taking over one night a week. It’s good for him. And I don’t see you enough.”
Alder jumped off his stool and hugged her tight. “I’m so happy.”
She held his face in both her hands. “I’m glad. I didn’t know if you still want your old mom around or not.”
“I do, Mom.” He hopped back on his stool. “Drake, my mom never takes time off work. All she does is work.”
“She works hard for you,” said Drake, his eyes skirting to Annie for a second.
Annie flushed. To be seen as you are. Nothing was better.
Drake gave her a cup of coffee and then poured eggs into the frying pan, stirring them with a soft spatula. “Have some fruit, Annie. These will be ready in a moment.”
She sipped her coffee, watching him. He seemed comfortable at the stove. And he was cooking the scrambled eggs on low heat—the best way to make sure they turned out fluffy. “You know what you’re doing there.”
“Don’t be fooled. Breakfast is all I know how to make.” He scooped egg onto a plate and placed it in front of her. “And Alder thought it would be nice if we cooked for you this morning. I agreed and thus I present mediocre eggs.”
She bit into a piece of cantaloupe. “It was very thoughtful of you both.”
Alder gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Gotta run, Mom. There’s a bird’s nest I want to check on. Some eggs were in there yesterday and I need to see if they’re going to hatch or not. See ya, Drake.”
“See ya, bud.”
She pushed back a loose curl and smiled at him. “Thank you for being nice to my son.”
“Can’t resist a kid. Especially him. He’s special.”
“Born happy,” she said. “He smiled at five weeks old. I tell everyone that. I don’t know why.”
He pointed at her coffee. “You want cream? I can’t remember.”
“Yes. Please.”
From the refrigerator, his back towards her, he asked, “Did you sleep last night?” He closed the refrigerator, the cream in his hand, turning in her direction.
“Not really.” She poked at the plate of eggs before taking a bite. “These are good.” She would eat just half. A little fuel for her workout; surely a few eggs cooked in butter wouldn’t blow her calorie count for the day.
She looked up to see Drake watching her. “You should eat all of it,” he said.
“Why?”
“Do you have any idea what you look like?”
“What do you mean?”
“It means you’re too thin. You don’t eat enough to sustain a small child, not to mention those punishing workouts I see you doing.”
He’d seen her working out? “That’s not true.” She took another bite of the eggs to prove him wrong. “I eat at the restaurant.”
“Not that it’s any of my business, really. Well, obviously, it’s absolutely none of my business. But you need to watch it. You’ll do no one any good if you don’t take care of yourself.”
This coming from him? A self-proclaimed recluse who wandered secret rooms.
“I have it under control,” she said.
“If you say so.” He pointed at her plate. “Prove it.”
“Fine.” With two large bites, she finished the eggs and then glared at him, feeling like the small child he referred to earlier. “Happy now?”
“I’d be happier if you’d have a piece of toast slathered in butter.”
She continued to glare at him.
He laughed, taking her plate to the sink. “Okay, that’ll do for now.”
That night, as was their routine, Billy took her home after they closed the restaurant. After they buzzed through the gate, she let herself into the house, waving to Billy as soon as she had the key in the lock. Her eyes went immediately to the couch, wondering if Drake would be there as he was the night before. He was. But there was someone else, too. A young woman.
She had short, curly brown hair and a face shaped like a heart. And Drake’s eyes, light blue, like a frozen pond. She’d obviously been crying. Drake was sitting next to her looking helpless and miserable. He can’t touch her, she thought. And she needed someone to touch her. Those were tears of a breakup if she’d ever seen one.
“Annie,” said Drake, motioning for her to come near. “This is my sister, Bella.”
Bella had deep dimples on each side of her mouth and her hair was cut stylishly. She had moxie, thought Annie. Flare. She dotted under her eyes with a tissue. “Hi, Annie. It’s nice to meet you,” attempting what Annie assumed was normally a beautiful smile but at the moment lacked truth. “Drake’s told me so much about you already. And I’m already in love with your son.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Annie. “I hope he wasn’t bothering you tonight.”
“No, actually. He was a good distraction.” She patted the couch. “Come sit. We have wine.”
Annie looked over at Drake. Was it all right? But he nodded and smiled.
Bella was a tiny person, thin and athletic looking, wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed sinewy muscle. She picked up a glass of wine from the table and took a big swallow. “I’m half in the bag, I’m afraid. You’ll have to excuse my drunken behavior.”
“I’ll get you a glass from the kitchen,” Drake said to Annie, looking relieved to escape for a moment.
After he left, Bella took a sip of wine and nestled back into the corner of the couch. “I’m
sorry you’re meeting me like this. But I have a bit of a situation.”
“Oh, that’s what Lee and I call it, too. You know, when something’s gone all wrong.”
“Who’s Lee?”
“My best friend. We run the restaurant together.”
“Right. That’s how Drake found you. He told me.”
“I have a bit of a situation of my own, as I’m sure Drake told you.”
“He did. It’s just awful what you’re going through. I’m so glad Drake can help you.” She lowered her voice. “And between you and me, it’s good for him to have you two here. You have no idea how I’ve worried about him. Talking all this crazy stuff about becoming a recluse like some kind of Howard Hughes disciple. Next thing we know he’ll be obsessively washing his hands and opening doors with handkerchiefs.” She laughed but then it turned into a sob as she buried her face in the handkerchief. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m a hot mess.”
Annie scooted closer. She put her arms out, like she might if Alder were hurt. And tiny Bella came into them. “Bad breakup?”
“Yes.” She sobbed into Annie’s shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, Annie saw Drake approaching with an empty wine glass. “He’s married. And finally I just had it. I ended it and quit my job and came here. I left my apartment and all my stuff. All I could think was just—get to my big brother. He’ll take me in.”
“And so I have,” said Drake, pouring Annie a large glass of wine and setting it on the coffee table.
“But I have your room,” said Annie.
“Don’t worry. There’s another guest room,” said Drake. “Over the gym. My wife insisted on that in case all her family visited at once.” He put his hand to his mouth and retreated backwards towards the windows, turning and staring out into the night.
Annie stared at his back over Bella’s soft curls. Wife?
Bella raised her head and reached for the box of tissues. No one spoke for a moment, the silence interrupted when Bella blew her nose into the tissues. Outside the windows, Annie saw a glimpse of the almost full moon hovering above the oak with the child’s swing. This house was made for a family. Had there been one or was it just the hope of one?
Annie stood. “I’m dead on my feet. A hot soak in the tub and this glass of wine is just what I need.”
“Oh, of course it is,” said Bella. “I work on my feet all day long so I know how you must feel. We’ll get to know one another properly in the morning. Drake says you work out in his gym after breakfast? Maybe I could join you?”
“That would be great,” she said, smiling. Bella smiled back, just a tremulous curving of her pretty mouth that said: I’m going to try and live again. But, again, it didn’t reach her eyes. Annie knew this kind of smile all too well.
Bella got up from the couch and gave Annie a quick, tight hug. “You’re cool. I can see where your son gets it. Wow, we’re like twinsies,” said Bella, stepping back slightly.
“How’s that?” asked Annie, confused.
“We’re the same height exactly.”
Except you’re tiny, she thought.
Drake turned from the window, as if he heard her thoughts. “Annie doesn’t see herself properly. Physically or otherwise.”
Annie waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Your brother doesn’t think I eat enough. It’s just a silly idea he has.”
Bella chuckled. “That’s funny because he’s always commenting on how much I eat.”
“It’s true,” said Drake. “She eats enough for four men.”
“I’m hungry,” said Bella. “So sue me.”
After she said goodnight, Annie went to her room. She was about to get undressed when she remembered she’d left her purse in the front entrance. Her phone was in there. Could she leave it overnight? It needed to be charged and Lee would panic if she couldn’t get her in the morning. Hating to have to go back and possibly interrupt Drake and Bella again, she hesitated, but after a few moments decided it was best to get it.
She was almost to the front room when she heard Bella’s voice. “Drake, does Annie know?”
Know what? She stood in the hallway, just outside the main room, unable to walk away.
There was no answer. She imagined Drake walked to the window, looking out into the yard once again, as if searching for answers in the dip and sway of his roses.
“Drake,” said Bella again, her voice insistent. “Did you tell her what happened?”
“No. She doesn’t need to know. It’ll only frighten her.”
“Why?”
“Given her situation.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true. But does she think it’s odd that you’re helping them?”
“Probably. But I explained it to her and her friends that I had my reasons. They left it at that. These are good people. And not everyone has to pry away at a thing like you do. Some people have boundaries.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say.” She sounded wounded.
“I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not. You always have to make me feel bad about the way I am. I just think it’s good to talk about stuff. Real stuff.”
“It’s those freaks you hang out with in L.A.”
“Freaks?”
“Movie people. No one has any sense of propriety. Not everyone’s every intimate detail needs to be discussed with perfect strangers.”
“Is that what you think I did tonight with Annie?”
Silence, then Drake’s voice, “Aw, c’mon, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
“You’re always telling me what to do, who to love, what my job should be. I’m just never good enough for you.”
“That’s simply not true.” His voice sounded forlorn. An image of a lighthouse on a foggy shore came to Annie’s mind. “But do I think you should be crying over a man too cowardly to either choose his wife or you? I do not.”
“It’s not that simple. If you’d ever loved anyone but Esther you would know that.”
“That’s right. I loved her for fifteen years.” Drake sounded angry now. “And she returned that love. This idiot you think you’re in love with wouldn’t know the first thing about the kind of commitment we had.”
“You don’t know him. He’s trapped. Because of his kids.”
“Bullshit. You’re either unhappy or you’re not. If he’s that unhappy he should get out, regardless of you. And let me tell you something, Bella, this man does not love you. If he did he’d have the balls to make sure he didn’t lose you. This is a man who likes his life perfectly fine. His wife and kids at home. You on the side. He’s got you all exactly where he wants you.”
“He doesn’t anymore. I left, remember.”
Drake’s voice softened. “You really going to stay?”
Her tone matched his. “For a while. Just to get back on my feet. When I’m good and over him, I’ll go home. I can always find work again.”
“You know you can stay as long as you like. But I know you. You’re going to need something to do. A job of some kind.”
“Yeah. Maybe. I’ll think about it tomorrow. I’m going to bed now,” said Bella.
Annie abandoned the idea of fetching her phone and returned to her room before she was discovered.
Again, she dreamt of Marco. He entered through the window of her room at Drake’s house. He yanked her from the bed and shoved her against the wall. You think you could keep me away after they let me out? There’s no place safe from me. There never will be. He pummeled her face with his open palm, again and again.
The sound of her own scream woke her. She opened her eyes and looked at the clock. 3:45 a.m. Getting out of bed, she took off her sweat-soaked pajamas, searching in the dark for her other pair, shivering.
There was a light knock on her door. “Annie? Are you all right?” It was Drake.
“Just a second,” she called out, pulling on the new pajamas quickly before going to the door and opening it a crack. He stood in the hallway, his hair dishevele
d. “Did I wake you?”
His eyes were searching her face, as if trying to understand someone who did not speak his native tongue. “No, I was awake. I heard you screaming.”
She opened the door a little wider, still shaking. “It was so real.”
He stepped closer. “Do you want me to come in for a minute?”
“Okay.”
He followed her into the sitting area, turning on a lamp near the fireplace. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”
“I guess.”
He grabbed the blanket hanging over the back of one of the chairs and draped it over her shoulders. She lifted her eyes to his face. What did she see there? Tenderness. Pity? Compassion? “You can’t imagine what it’s like to know he’s out there, waiting. I feel like a hunted animal.”
“I understand more than you might think.” His voice was bitter.
“Why?” It was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
He stepped away from her, putting his hand on the mantle over the fireplace. “Don’t. Please.”
“I’m sorry.” She pulled the blanket tighter and sank into one of the chairs, her heart beating fast. Would he now clamp shut?
He looked back at her. “It’s not your fault.”
She watched him, wishing he were whole enough to kneel down by this chair and take her into his arms.
As if he read her mind, he said, “I wish I could hold you. But I can’t.”
She didn’t say anything. What was there to say, after all? What was there to tell him except, yes, I wish you could, too. “Why can’t you let anyone touch you?”
He took in a deep breath, moving his eyes towards the ceiling, obviously thinking of how to explain it. “You know how when someone is kind to you when you’re sad it can make it worse?”
“Sure. Like you’re keeping it together and then someone says something sympathetic and you cry?” You do that to me all the time, she thought.
“Right. It’s the same when someone touches me. Only it brings an anxiety attack instead of tears.”
“Has it always been this way?”
The River Valley Series Page 40
