The Forgotten Path

by Marci Bolden

  Annie inhaled deeply and blinked away more tears. “I hate your sunny disposition sometimes.”

  Dianna grinned. “I’m right. You know I’m right.”

  Annie exhaled heavily. “Know what really pisses me off?”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to have to learn how to draw rainbows.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Annie stared at her reflection. She hated the short haircut. She hated the loose-fitting dress Mallory had brought her to go home in. She hated the way the features on the left side of her face sagged just a bit. She hated the purple scar on her forehead. She hated that she couldn’t put on makeup without looking like a preschooler had taken markers to her face.

  She hated everything.

  At least that hadn’t changed.

  Closing her eyes, she sat on the edge of her hospital bed and tried to find a way to be thankful. After weeks of physical therapy she could finally walk, albeit slowly. She was told her speech had improved, and she had regained minimal control over her hands. One day she might even be able to button a blouse so she didn’t have to either let someone else dress her or dress herself in ugly, unfitted clothes that she’d never have worn before taking a shot to the brain.

  She sat a bit higher at the sound of a knock on the door. Before she could answer, Dianna poked her head in and smiled.

  “Oh, darn it. I was hoping to catch you before you got dressed.”

  “You had plenty of time. I’m slow.”

  Dianna smiled and stepped in, holding the door for someone else. Kara came in behind her.

  “Hey, Annie. I hear you’re going home today.”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  “You must be pretty excited.” She sat in the chair next to the bed.

  “Yeah.” She was finally getting to go home. All she wanted was to crawl into her bed and enjoy some peace—real peace. She wasn’t in the mood for one more challenge to get there, yet she sensed Dianna hadn’t brought Kara by for a random visit.

  “You made quite the impression on Jessica. She’s been worried about you.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “She keeps asking about your recovery. When I told her you still couldn’t use your hands very well, she asked me to help you.”

  “Help? How?”

  “Because of her Down syndrome, she had a very difficult time with fine motor skills when she was younger. When she was old enough to start dressing herself, we realized she couldn’t do buttons and zippers because her fingers didn’t want to cooperate. Just like what you’re dealing with now.”

  At least Kara didn’t use an I can fix this tone. She spoke to Annie as if Annie were still Annie, and that was not something she got a lot of these days. She appreciated the non-sugar-coated approach Kara was taking with whatever she was getting at.

  “Dianna bought an outfit that she thought you’d like. I modified it to make it a little easier for you to dress yourself. If this works for you, I can do the same to some of your other clothes. Then you can dress yourself and take back a little bit of your independence. Which, I’m told, is important to you.”

  She held up a cornflower blue blouse and a pair of black slacks that had been tucked inside a bag.

  “I sewed the buttons onto another flap of material so they are fastened properly, but”—she opened the blouse front and revealed a hidden row of Velcro—“you just have to press the front closed. You don’t have to try to work the buttons. On the slacks, I did the same. The zipper and button are real, but they’re just for show. Oh, and let us not forget…” She held up two bras, both hanging open in the front. “For the girls.”

  “Yes,” Annie said dryly, “let’s not forget the girls.” She sighed, actually moved by the gesture. She didn’t used to be so soft. “Thank you. Mallory has already caged the beasts for today, but I’d like to try these clothes instead of this.” She tugged at the dress she hated so much.

  “Okay,” Dianna said far too cheerfully. “We’ll step outside. Let us know if you need any help.”

  Kara put the clothes on the bed beside Annie, and they left. Annie stared at them for several moments before standing and struggling to get the dress over her head. Starting with the shirt, she slipped her arms in and shrugged it onto her shoulders. Pinching the material between her hands, she managed to get the pieces of Velcro to close with minimal misalignment. A gentle tug assured her the closures were strong enough that her clothing wouldn’t spontaneously fall open.

  She sat on the edge of the chair and put first one leg, then the other, in the slacks. She’d just managed to pull them up and close the altered fly when Dianna knocked.

  “Come on in.” Annie stood, barefoot but dressed in real clothes—clothes she would choose to wear. She didn’t want to act like doing so was such a big deal, but her eyes started to burn and her chest grew heavy with emotion. “I’m dressed.”

  Dianna made a cooing maternal sound, and Annie crumbled. Sitting in the chair, she brought her hands to her face to hide her tears. A moment later, arms were around her and she didn’t even care that she was being hugged. She turned her face into Dianna’s shoulder and sobbed.

  “What’s going on?” Marcus asked, coming into Annie’s room.

  Dianna stood, wiped her eyes, and laughed softly. “My fault. I started crying first.”

  Annie shook her head and took Dianna’s hand. “I’m always crying now, too. I hate it.”

  Dianna put a kiss on her head, something Annie was getting used to. “I’ll see you at home.”

  She was gone before her words sank in. “Why is she going to my house?”

  “Did you really think you’d get out of this place without an O’Connell family get-together? She and Donna have been planning this for weeks.”

  “I just want some quiet.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ll never have quiet again.” He brushed his hand over her cheek. “Why were you upset?”

  She looked down. “Kara fixed these clothes for me. So I could dress myself.”

  He lifted his brows. “You dressed yourself?”

  That damned bubble of emotion started to rise again as she nodded. “They’re altered.” She tugged the top of her shirt open to show him the Velcro then closed it again. “But, yes. I dressed myself.”

  He smirked as he leaned in and kissed her. “I’m going to like these easy-off clothes of yours.”

  She laughed softly. “I’m sure.”

  “It feels so odd,” Annie said as Marcus drove her home.

  “What’s that?”

  “Seeing the trees bare. It should be spring.”

  “You slept through spring, honey.”

  “And was locked up for what was left of the summer.”

  “Locked up isn’t quite accurate.”

  “Says the man who could come and go from the hospital as he pleased.”

  He glanced at her, letting the debate drop. “Fall is coming early this year. It’ll be snowing soon.”

  “I don’t like the heat anyway.” She turned a bit in her seat as they passed a sign with her company name on it. That was it. No photo or agent name. “You changed our signs?”

  “Yes. Mallory designed them.”

  “Mal?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “She gets pretty excited when she sees them around town.”

  “Why? Did you change them, I mean?”

  He sighed heavily. “Paul hired a security consulting team after…the shooting. We both wanted to know what we could do to be safer. Obviously we’ll never be one hundred percent safe when we’re going out meeting strangers, but there were some things we could do to increase security. The first thing they suggested was that we change to generic signs so the bad guys can’t profile an agent before even showing up.”

  She looked at him, and her brow creased. “You mean…like target women?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do they think I was targeted?”

  “Well, since we never found the guy who did this to you,
there’s no way to know that, but they said having pictures could make an agent vulnerable. Say a rapist has a thing for women with a specific hair color or a thief is looking for someone of a certain age or gender. We were giving them everything they needed to know right on our signs. They didn’t even have to go online to figure out which agent would be where. We did alter our website, as well. No more photos. Names but no photos. Clients have to come in-office to meet the agent and fill out the background forms. No more exceptions.”

  She closed her eyes. “God. I never thought.”

  He put his hand on her knee. “Because your mind doesn’t work like that, Annie. None of our minds work like that. But the security guys are trained to. They made some suggestions, and Paul and I implemented them. One of them is having security around during open houses now. It’s just safer. We can’t protect ourselves all the time, but we can at least take measures to deter would-be assailants.”

  She sighed and put her hand on his. He glanced at her as she stared out the window. He still hadn’t quite gotten use to how she had a tendency to fade.

  “What’s on your mind, Annie?”

  She blinked heavily and looked at him for a moment, but then she fell back into the conversation. “Tell me more about the new agent.”

  “Megumi Tanoka. Mallory’s friend from college. Remember her?”

  Annie thought for a moment before nodding. “Yes. She never stops talking and is completely disorganized.”

  “But she’s great at sales. Excellent, in fact.”

  Annie squeezed his hand as tightly as she could, which still wasn’t very impressive. “Thank you. For taking care of my business.”

  He glanced at her. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I do. Dianna said you stepped up and took charge without hesitation.”

  He swallowed, thinking back on all the nights he’d sat in her office with the door closed, remembering every snarky conversation they’d ever had, and hating himself for not protecting her. He cleared his throat. “Well, you weren’t really up for the task, so…”

  “Which also meant quitting your new job before you started.”

  “I wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. You know I only took that other job to get in your pants, right?”

  She smiled. “I suspected as much.” She looked out the window. “I know you’ve told me, but I can’t seem to hold on to it. How did Mallory end up being an agent?”

  “She wanted to help out around the office. She started with little things, moved on to reviewing contracts, and when she was ready, she got her license.”

  “She never wanted that.”

  “Well, if it doesn’t stick, it doesn’t stick. I think she just needed to feel like she was helping you, and there was nothing we could do while you were in a coma. This was her way.”

  She faded but not completely. She was thinking, not blank. “I hate that she gave up California.”

  “California is still there, Annie. And from what she said, her boss was completely understanding of her decision to stay here. Maybe, if another position opens up and Mallory is ready, she can try again.”

  “I feel…”

  “If you say guilty, I’m going to pull the car over and spank you.”

  “Wouldn’t you? Feel guilty, I mean. You all gave up so much, and I just…vegged out for three months.”

  “None of us did anything for you that you wouldn’t have done for us.”

  “You keep saying that as if it makes it okay.”

  She faded again but only for a moment. He patted her knee and pointed as he neared her house.

  “Oh, we’re here.” She immediately sighed as he pulled into her driveway and revealed a row of cars. “So is everyone else.”

  He parked beside Paul’s car. “They wanted to welcome you home. As soon as you’re ready for them to go, I’ll kick them out.”

  She looked at him and her face sagged. “You must think I’m terrible.”

  “Not at all. You’ve gone through a lot. It’s okay to want downtime.”

  Marcus hopped out and rushed around the car. He unhooked her seat belt, and after helping her out, he kissed her head.

  “You didn’t used to do that so much,” she said.

  “You didn’t used to have a bullet hole in your forehead.”

  “Never going to let me live that down, are you?”

  “Not anytime soon.” Walking with her, quite a bit slower than his usual stride, he opened the front door. “We’re here!”

  Excited chatter filtered from the living room. Marcus and Annie turned the corner into a room filled with balloons, flowers, and people. Marcus didn’t doubt for a second that Annie hated it, but she smiled and accepted hugs and even a few kisses. The bond between her and her brothers had never been so clear to him as since she’d gotten hurt. They’d always been protective of her, always spent time with her, but the last three months had been hell on them.

  Seeing them now, Paul with his arm over her shoulder and Matt with his arm around her waist, reminded him how much they’d always needed her. He’d been so caught up in his own sense of loss and helping Mallory through hers, he didn’t think he had really considered how deeply Paul and Matt must have been hurting the last three months. He looked around the room now at Mallory playing a game with Matt and Donna’s daughters, Paul’s sons hovering over the snacks that had been set out, and Dianna and Donna sitting on the love seat while the three O’Connell siblings sat on the couch.

  He didn’t feel out of place, exactly, but he didn’t feel one hundred percent in place either. At the office, at work, he knew where he fit into Annie’s life. Even hovering around her hospital room, he’d felt that he was where he should be. Standing in her house, surrounded by her family, he suddenly wasn’t so sure.

  “I need to check the ham.” Donna started to get up.

  “I got it,” Marcus said, happy for an excuse to do something besides stare. Shaking the discontent from his head, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitt off the counter. Opening the oven, he pulled the rack out enough to lift the foil from the ham, wondering what, exactly, he was looking for.

  Dianna came in behind him. “Do you have a clue what you’re doing?”

  “Nope.”

  She grinned and shooed him back from the oven. “How are you doing, Marcus?”

  “I’m fine, Di.” He moved back and let her do whatever it was that he’d volunteered to do.

  “Really? Because you look a little out of sorts right now.”

  Leaning against the counter, he shrugged. “Just trying to…whatever.”

  She put the foil back on the meat, closed the oven, and turned on the burner beneath a pot of potatoes before turning to him. “Whatever?”

  “When she was in the coma, I knew what needed to be done. When she was in the hospital recovering, I knew what needed to be done. I just…haven’t figured out what she needs done right now.”

  She put her hand on his arm and gave him that supportive smile of hers that drove Annie nuts. Marcus didn’t get why it was a trigger for her. He thought it was nice—maternally comforting. “You’re doing great, Marcus. So is she. We all are given the circumstances.”

  “One day at a time, right?”

  “Right.”

  “It was great what you and Kara did. She really appreciated that.”

  “Good. I’m glad. I’ll take her shopping to get a few outfits she won’t mind having altered. Kara said she’d be more than happy to fix them for her.”

  “I’ll pay her—”

  “Kara doesn’t work that way. She did this because she wanted to help. If you want to do something for her, get her some material or art supplies. She won’t take your money.”

  He nodded. “Well, when Annie is feeling up to it, we’ll go get her something.”

  “That’d be nice.”

  Marcus jerked around when a loud bang exploded from the living room. His heart kicked into double time as he broke into a full run
, pushing the swinging door so hard it bounced back and nearly bashed him in the face. “Annie?”

  She looked up, her eyes wide, as Paul and Matt both reassured her that she was okay.

  “The boys popped a balloon,” Donna quickly explained. “Scared the hell out of all of us.”

  Her words did little to slow the pounding of Marcus’s heart or stop the tear that fell from Annie’s eye.

  Paul loudly forced the air out of his lungs, his anger evident as he shook his head at his sons. He pushed himself up. “That was stupid, Sean.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Marcus kneeled in front of Annie and put his hands to her face. He stared at her for a moment, reassuring himself she was okay. She wasn’t shot. She was fine. Well, not exactly. She was trembling like an arachnophobe holding a tarantula. She might not have remembered being shot, but some level of her subconscious clearly had a memory of something from that day. She was visibly terrified. But she was looking at him. At him, not through him. There was no blood. No need for an ambulance.

  “Hey, you’re okay.”

  She nodded and another tear slid down her cheek. The fact that she didn’t wipe it away with frustration told Marcus so much. Physically she was fine, but she was far from okay. She was shaken down to her bones. He didn’t blame her. The sound had set off a panic in him that he’d hoped to never feel again.

  “Want to take a few minutes of quiet time?” he whispered.

  She nodded again, and he helped her stand. She leaned into him as he walked her toward the back of the house.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Annie,” Sean said in a rare show of humility. The kid was a prankster to the nth degree; little took the laughter out of him, but he obviously realized the effect of what he’d done. “I meant to scare the girls. I didn’t think.”

  She offered him a slight smile. “It’s okay.”

  Marcus patted his shoulder. “She’s fine, Sean. We’re just going to rest for a few minutes. You guys start dinner without us. We’ll be back.”

  He closed the bedroom door behind them and helped her sit on the bed.

  “I feel stupid,” she whispered. This time she did wipe the tears from her face.