Beside her, Annabelle felt Alice slip her hand into hers, and together they watched Billy walk away, and Annabelle couldn’t help but think that he was taking her whole world away from her as he went.
Chapter 25
THREE SHEETS WAS CROWDED, AND THE THREE OF US found a space at a cramped table toward the back.
“Is everybody in town here?” Holly asked. “It’s packed.”
“Looks like it,” I replied. “You guys want a beer? There’s a good local brewery here.”
“None for me,” Eli replied. “I’ve got to drive myself and Holly back, and I just got an alert on my phone there is a severe storm headed this way. In fact, we probably better eat and get out of here.”
“Okay,” I said. “You’re both welcome to stay here.”
“I need to get back,” Eli said. “Mom and Dad will worry if I don’t.”
“We’re finishing up a big project, and I know it’s a Saturday, but I’ve got to get some shit done.”
“Well, you two are a barrel of fun,” I replied.
After we ordered our food, I scanned the room. There were a few familiar faces. Charlene was toward the back with a rowdy group of men who seemed to be spilling more beer than they drank. When she saw me, she waved, grabbed a pitcher, and headed over.
“Hey, Maeve!” she yelled over the noise. “What on God’s green earth are you doing all the way back here? Who are your friends?”
“Hey, Charlene,” I replied, scooting over to make room for her. “This is my brother, Eli, and my best friend, Holly. They drove up from Seattle to help me get settled.”
“Nice to meet ya,” Charlene said, extending her hand to each of them.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Abel come through the door, shaking off the rain that must have begun after we’d already come inside. He glanced around, but he didn’t see me, and sat down with the rowdy group Charlene had just left. I poured myself a beer from Charlene’s pitcher and tried to keep my glances in Abel’s direction discreet.
The waitress reappeared and set a plate in front of each of us, including Charlene, and she dug in. We all began to eat, and Eli couldn’t help but moan his approval.
“I don’t get to eat like this at home,” he said. “I might have to get a burger to go.”
Charlene eyed him up and down and then said, “Your wife keep you on a tight leash?”
Eli grinned. “Something like that.”
“You’ve got that kept-man look about ya,” Charlene replied. “Those guys over there could use a good woman to keep ’em sober.”
The men Charlene was talking about were laughing at something Abel had just said. Two of the men looked exactly alike, with blond hair and thin beards. They had to be twins. The other man was close to Abel’s size, but he resembled a bear—both in weight and mannerism. As I watched, he spilled his beer twice and almost fell out of his chair.
“That big, drunk bastard over there is Scooter Marx,” Charlene said, pointing with the stump of a half-eaten fry over to where Abel sat. “The other two are the Wasoon twins, Roland and Randall.”
“The Wasoons,” I said. “They own a brewery, right?”
Charlene nodded. “I prefer cheap beer like Natural Lite, but I would never say that here,” she said. “Pretty sure the Wasoons own stock in this place.”
Just then Scooter was successful in his latest attempt to fall out of his chair and landed hard on the floor. He managed to take his beer down with him as he fell, and the mug came crashing down beside him, shattering to pieces.
The bar fell silent for a few seconds until Scooter opened up his mouth and began to guffaw, and everybody else followed suit. Abel leaned over to help him up, steadying him on his chair, while an annoyed-looking waitress brought out a mop from the back and began to clean the mess.
I looked away from the scene and refilled my glass. I was warm from the beer, and I felt myself relax. When Charlene offered to buy another pitcher, I didn’t argue, despite the fact that I could feel Holly and Eli looking at me from their seats.
“I’m glad I ran into you tonight,” Charlene said. “I was supposed to meet a guy here, but he bailed on me at the last second.”
“Another married man?” I asked.
Charlene laughed. “No, not tonight. I met this guy a few months ago at work. He came in to buy a lottery ticket and won two hundred dollars right there in the store. Gave me fifty, then asked me for my number. I’ve seen him a few times, but he said he heard there were supposed to be some real bad storms and didn’t want to take a chance that it might hail on his new Corolla.”
“You’re a fascinating person, Charlene,” Holly said, finally, breaking her silence.
“Thanks,” Charlene replied with a grin.
Eli was staring hard at Abel and it didn’t take long before recognition dawned on his face, and he said, “Is that Abel Abbott over there?”
Charlene nodded. “In the flesh.”
I thought for a minute that Eli was going to stand up and walk over to him, but he didn’t. Instead he just stuck another french fry in his mouth and said, “Wow. It’s really him.”
“Oooooh,” Charlene replied knowingly. “You’re a fan.”
“The biggest fan,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes.
“Let me go get him,” Charlene replied, standing up. “He’s got to be tired of those assholes over there by now.”
She sauntered over to the table, managing to avoid all the calls of her name, and stopped right in front of Abel. When she pointed at us, he craned his neck around her to look, and I found myself waving at him. He didn’t wave back. Instead he just shook his head until Charlene walked away.
“He’s in a mood tonight,” Charlene said when she returned. “He said he came over here to have a beer.”
I narrowed my eyes in Abel’s direction, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. I could feel my face grow hot with anger and embarrassment, and before I could stop myself, I got up and walked over to the table where he was sitting.
“Well, hello,” said one of the blond men. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
He slurred the word pleasure so badly that it was hard for me not to laugh. I ignored him and said to Abel, “You couldn’t even come over and meet my brother? He’s one of your biggest fans, you know.”
“That’s your brother?”
I screwed up my face. “Yeah, who did you think he was?”
Abel shrugged. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”
“I don’t care,” I replied. “It would have been the nice thing to do, and it would have taken you like five seconds.”
“Sit down with us,” the second blond man said. “Have a drink, pretty lady.”
“No thank you.”
The first blond man set down his beer so close to the edge of the table that I thought it might fall off, and I was too busy focusing on the glass to see his hand coming toward my thigh before it was too late.
The glass fell to the floor and shattered as Abel reached across his friend and grabbed his forearm inches before it made contact with my leg.
“You might want to rethink that, Roland.”
Roland’s watery eyes looked up at me, and he slumped back in his chair when Abel released him. “I was jus’ tryin’ to haves fun,” he managed to get out, before his head hit the table and he passed out cold.
I stood there for a few seconds, my mouth open.
“I’ve got to get them out of here,” Abel said. “Before they make even bigger idiots out of themselves.”
“Well,” I replied, turning to leave. “I guess you’re in good company.”
I could feel him watching me as I walked away, but I was too annoyed to turn around, because I knew if I did, he’d be smiling at me, and I wouldn’t be able to resist smiling back. When I got over to my table, everyone was standing to leave.
“I haven’t even finished eating yet,” I protested.
“We’ve got to get on the road,” Eli replied. “They’re saying
the storm is headed this way, and if we hurry up, we can beat it by an hour or so.”
“Fine,” I said, pulling on my coat and taking my burger with me. “I guess I’ll see you around, Charlene.”
“You bet!” she replied with a wink, and then disappeared into the swelling crowd once again.
I walked Holly and Eli to the truck and she climbed in. I turned to Eli.
“Thanks for coming today,” I said to him, squeezing him a little tighter than I meant to. “I really needed to see you today.”
“I miss you,” Eli replied, squeezing me back. “But I’m glad you’re staying here.”
“Really?”
Eli pulled away from me and nodded. “It’s good for you,” he said. “Being here. I can tell.”
“Rude writers notwithstanding,” I replied.
Eli laughed. “I actually didn’t expect much else,” he said. “Abel Abbott has a history of being less than enthusiastic.”
“Still,” I said. “He’s supposed to be my friend.”
“Seems like he likes you just fine,” Eli replied, his eyes twinkling. “He watched you walk all the way to his table and all the way away from it. I’d say you’ve made an impression.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious!” Eli said, turning around to wave at Holly, who was honking the horn at him. “Look, I’ve got to go, but will you let me know what you find out about that picture?”
My chest tightened. I’d almost forgotten. “I will,” I said. “Please call me when you get home. Be careful.”
I’d decided to walk home from Three Sheets, but the wind was really starting to pick up by the time I got back inside from letting Happy out, and I was glad to get out of the cold. I changed into my pajamas and sat down on the couch. I resisted the urge to go back to Annabelle’s bedroom and look at the picture again. I kept going over it in my head, trying to figure out where I’d seen the man in the picture before, but I always came up with nothing.
Happy nestled herself against me, and I absently began to pet her. After a few minutes, I realized I hadn’t seen Sherbet since I came inside. I got up and walked around the house, checking under all the beds. I called his name, but he didn’t seem to be anywhere in the house.
I put Happy in the back bathroom and threw on my coat. There was a flashlight underneath the sink in the kitchen, and I grabbed it on my way out the door. I wasn’t prepared for the amount of rain and wind. I expected Sherbet to be waiting on the porch, angrily meowing to be let back inside. When he didn’t come, I set off across the yard, calling his name.
“Sherbet!”
I looked under cars and in ditches. My teeth were starting to chatter by the time I rounded the corner two blocks over, and my tennis shoes were completely soaked through. I didn’t even know what street I was on, and I was beginning to panic that I wouldn’t be able to find my way back home in the storm.
As I stood at the corner of the street, squinting to see the street sign, I noticed two people come out onto the porch of one of the houses. The porch light was the only light on for what seemed like miles—not even the streetlights seemed to be working. The people were yelling; rather, the man was yelling, and the woman was looking down at her feet. I stood there transfixed and watched.
When the man reached out to grab the woman, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her slightly, I realized that I was probably witnessing something I shouldn’t have been. The woman tried to free herself, the man’s grip tightened, and for a moment I thought he was going to hit her. Instead he whirled her around and gave her a little shove, forcing her down the steps and into the yard. She was wearing a T-shirt and panties. The woman didn’t try to get back up onto the porch. Instead she stumbled out into the yard, hands over her arms and barefoot in the pouring rain. Her hair was plastered to her face, and she was shaking violently with each movement.
I was wondering whether I should call the police when the woman looked up and straight at me.
It was Yulina. I had to do a double take, but it was definitely her, which meant the man grabbing on to her and shoving her had to have been Gary. For a moment I didn’t think she saw me, but when I made a move to get closer, she shook her head at me. It was an almost imperceptible movement, but her message was clear. Gary jumped off the porch and ran toward her, and I ducked down in between two parked cars so he wouldn’t see me. He was right up close to Yulina’s face, and what I could see through the rain told me that whatever he was saying wasn’t an apology. After a few moments he left her standing there in the yard. She didn’t attempt to move. She simply stayed there in the rain as if she were being punished for something.
I watched her for what felt like forever, and I could feel her eyes trained on me as well. I wasn’t sure what to do, and so I advanced toward her again. This time she shook her head violently at me, desperately, and so I ran farther down the street, hoping there was some kind of explanation for what I’d just seen—some kind of reason for what I’d witnessed.
I stopped when my side began to hurt, and I bent over at the end of the street, gulping air and rain. In the distance I could hear sirens, and my phone began to make the same kind of noise—an alert that the severe thunderstorm warning had turned into an all-out tornado warning.
Behind me a horn honked, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. When I turned around, I was relieved to see a vehicle I recognized and a face I knew getting out of the driver’s seat.
“Maeve? What are you doing out here?” Abel ran around to the front of the Jeep to where I stood, shivering. “Are you all right?”
I tried not to let the relief on my face show. “I’m fine,” I tried to say, even though I wasn’t sure my mouth was opening and closing the way it should be to form words.
“How long have you been out here?”
“I can’t find Sherbet,” I muttered. “He’s out here in this mess, and I can’t find him.”
“Jesus, Maeve,” Abel said. “Come on, get in.” He led me around to the passenger’s side and folded me into the seat.
“I have to find him,” I said, still trying to get my mind off Yulina and Gary.
“He’s a cat,” Abel replied. “I’m sure he’s hiding somewhere.”
“It’s so bad out here,” I said.
“Yeah, and you were wandering around like a homeless person,” Abel replied. “With tornado sirens going off.”
I turned around to face him. “Well, what were you doing driving in this?”
“I had to take my buddies home,” Abel replied.
“Where’s Max?”
Abel raised an eyebrow. “She’s with Harriett and Eva. She’s working on a research project about the history of the old pillow factory, and they’re helping her with it. They’re fine. I already called. They’re in the basement at Harriett’s house.”
We pulled into the driveway, and the sirens were still going off. The rain had let up for a few minutes, and it was eerily quiet. From the drain at the end of the street, I heard a strangled meow.
“I think I found him!” I yelled to Abel.
I ran to the drain and tried to reach Sherbet, but my arms were too short. Abel gently moved me out of the way and got down on his hands and knees and reached in. A few seconds later he pulled a very wet, very agitated Sherbet out of the drain.
“Let’s get him inside,” Abel said.
I found a dry towel in the laundry room and handed it to Abel and then went into the master bedroom to let Happy out of the bathroom. I could hear her whining and clawing at the door, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I got back there—the door, or what was left of it, had a giant hole chewed right through the center of it. Happy had her nose pushed through the hole in a desperate attempt to escape, and at that moment, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to laugh or cry.
I opened the door and let her out, and she barked her appreciation at me before jumping up and placing her paws on my chest.
“What did you do?” I asked her.
“
It looks like she chewed through the door,” Abel replied. “Why did you lock her in the back bathroom?”
“I didn’t know what else to do with her. I thought she’d be okay in there,” I replied. “There’s no basement, so this bathroom was the safest place for her.”
“Well, now that all your animals are accounted for, do you think that you could maybe avoid going out into a dangerous storm?”
I shrugged. “I survived.”
“I can see that.”
“You look a little worse for wear, though.”
“Well,” Abel replied. “You’re not the one who carried a soaking-wet cat into the house and dried him off. I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “You are. And your shirt is ripped.”
“I hope he’s vaccinated.”
I started to giggle. I couldn’t help myself. “I have no idea,” I said in between gasps.
“You find my bleeding torso funny?” Abel asked. His tone was serious, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.
“Let me see,” I replied. “It can’t be that bad, but if you’ll remember, I was almost a nurse.”
“Oh, I remember,” Abel replied, and in one swift movement, his shirt was off and I was staring at his bare chest.
I think for a moment, I forgot to breathe. The large woodland tattoo that wound up his arm extended onto his shoulder and chest. Just below the two small cat scratches on his abs was the faintest trace of hair, leading down to the button of his jeans.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll get the alcohol,” I managed to say, and backed myself up into the kitchen, nearly tumbling over a still angry Sherbet in my rush.
“It’s your own fault,” I whispered to him.
When I returned, Abel was sitting on the couch, his shirt in his hands. I sat down beside him and pressed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball onto his skin.
“Damn,” Abel said, flinching. “That stings.”
“Good,” I replied. “That means it’s working.”
St. Francis Society for Wayward Pets Page 21
