Finding Abigail

by Christina Smith

  “This is cool,” I admitted as the people started stomping their feet in time to “We Will Rock You” playing on the loud speakers. I joined in stamping my sneakers against the wooden planks—thump thump thump thump...thump thump! The stomps echoed through the arena along with the music.

  “I knew you’d like it,” he whispered in my ear, and a tingle shot through me as his hot breath caressed my skin. Surprised by my reaction, I moved away from him, leaving a space between us. He didn’t stop me, but his gaze was making me nervous.

  I needed the space to figure out why he had done that, and why he had said we were a couple at the bar. There was a look in his eyes as I watched him, I had noticed a few times in the last month that had me turning away to look straight ahead at the ice.

  “Anna.” He moved closer, closing the gap I had created. His tone was low and husky. His voice was normally deep and sexy but when he lowered it like that, it sounded like a mating call, making my insides turned to mush. Pushing those thoughts away, I focused on the game. I didn’t want to hear what he was about to say, and I was saved when the Cougars skated out onto the ice. Noah stood up along with many others, and started booing the opposing team.

  The boos turned to cheers as the Mallards rushed out, skating around the rink doing practice shots.

  I found myself getting carried away by the excitement. At first when the Cougars scored, I would sit while Noah and our neighbors would stand up and boo, or when the Mallards got a goal they would do a celebratory dance in the stands. But I soon found myself joining them, giving high fives to strangers, something I had never done in my life. By the end of the night, I knew that the person sitting next to me was in his fifties, and worried that his grandson wouldn’t get into college. He talked constantly, telling me most of his problems, even that he needed a new lock for his front door. I nodded and made soothing sounds when appropriate, I felt like a bartender. Between bouts of complaining, he would stand up and pound his fist in the air with a Wahoo.

  My throat was sore as we left the stands. All of our spirits were high from the win.

  In the car Noah and I talked about the game. It was close, but in overtime the Mallards scored the winning goal. Noah cheered all over again as I tried to concentrate on the road. He yanked off his jersey and twirled it in the air. Thankfully he was wearing a denim button-down underneath. All the beer he drank was catching up to him and he was falling asleep by the time I pulled into his driveway.

  “Noah, wake up, I can’t carry you.” I poked him in the shoulder.

  His head was resting on the window. He opened one vivid blue eye and smiled. “Hi, Anna,” he whispered.

  “Hi. Wake up, you’re home, and I can’t lift you.” I climbed out of the Jeep and stepped over to his door, and pulled. He finally got the hint, and stumbled out of the car as I held him under his shoulders for support.

  He leaned his head on my shoulder and twisted around to stare into my eyes. “I have so much fun with you.”

  “I know, you said that before. I have fun with you too.”

  “You do?” His face took on a look of shock. We reached the steps, and I pushed him up. He leaned on the porch railing.

  “Of course, now which key is it?” I sifted through the key ring, the keys jingling in my hand.

  “Let me see.” He leaned in close, reaching for them, but instead of taking them out of my hands, he shoved me into the wall of the house. The image of Nick flashed in my mind, and I closed my eyes bracing for the pain. It didn’t come. “You’re so pretty, Anna.” His voice was a soft caress, no longer slurring his words. I opened my eyes to see him lean forward, placing his hands on either side of my face before touching his lips to mine.

  My mind went blank. So much had happened in the last few seconds; one moment I was trying to open the door, then I was terrified he would turn into Nick, and now he was kissing me. I couldn’t keep up, my head was spinning. The kiss was gentle at first, but soon erupted to a volcanic passion I had never felt in my life. I was confused by what was happening, and that it had happened in the first place, but one thing was for sure, he was a great kisser. His lips were soft and smooth, his tongue dancing against mine creating sensations I had never felt before. He tasted of beer and smelled of spice and oak. His hands were warm as they moved softly down my arms to guide me to the door. Pulling away, only to take the keys from me, no longer drunk, he turned the knob.

  He kissed me again inside, the sensations now turned to need, guiding me to his bedroom. I hadn’t been touched this way in so long I needed it. No I craved it—him—to touch me, to make me feel.

  Once I realized where he was leading us, fear washed over me like a bucket of ice water. I couldn’t do this, no matter how badly I wanted it. “No, I can’t.” I shoved him away; he wobbled a bit, leaning against the sofa.

  “Why?” he asked, staring intently, a look of longing burning in his eyes.

  I felt guilty instantly, but I just couldn’t do this. “Because, I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

  He smiled, his eyes glazed, showing me that he wasn’t as sober as I thought. “I could only make it better.”

  “Come on, Noah, it’s late, go to bed.”

  “Want to join me? I could rock your world.” His smile was cocky, his eyes flashed with need.

  Wow, I hadn’t had an offer like that since Jimmy Jacobs asked me to jump the bush in seventh grade. I chose to ignore his comment. “Are you okay? Or do you need help before I leave?”

  “I’m fine,” he slurred, starting to unbutton his shirt, the sting of rejection showing on his face. His fingers fumbled, unable to do it. He sighed giving up, then staggered to his bedroom. Once he was inside, I heard a crash.

  Rushing into the room, I saw him sprawled on the floor beside a broken bedside lamp. I grabbed his arm and pulled. After a few attempts, I finally managed to get him on the bed and under the covers. As I pulled the blanket over him, he whispered, “Anna, I love you,” before falling asleep.

  Oh shit. My heart plummeted. My new life that I cherished was now ruined. How was I supposed to face him, I thought as I let myself out of his house, and into mine.

  Once inside the cottage, I ran a bath, soaking inside the tub. I tried to think of a way to fix this. Maybe I could ignore it, and he wouldn’t bring it up again. But what if he did? I could move. Yeah, that’s a brilliant Idea, where would I go?

  I knew I was being ridiculous, but hearing that Noah loved me even if he didn’t mean it really freaked me out. I counted on him to be my friend, I felt normal around him, and now I didn’t know how to feel. I couldn’t have a relationship with him. That was out of the question. And I couldn’t move. I didn’t know what the hell to do, so I decided to postpone the problem.

  The next morning I copied my book. I had finished the first draft, last week and had started the rewrites. I was going to go to Martin to find a library and somehow send it to Debbie. It would probably take all day, and if it didn’t, I would find something else to do. I decided last night that the only way to solve my problem was avoid it. What else was there? Act like an adult and face the situation head on? Ha! No thanks.

  I found the library right next to city hall. It was an old red brick building, lined with windows. The maple trees that grew in front and to the side were just turning red, brown and yellow. Vines grew up the side of the building, giving the appearance that it had grown from the earth, instead of being built. Once inside the musty-smelling building, sitting at a computer cubby, I took out my things. Turning the computer on, I created an email account under the name of Steve Brody. He was a mystery novelist, and a client of Debbie’s. If Nick looked in her email he wouldn’t notice anything strange about Steve sending Debbie pages.

  In the body of the email I wrote simply: Debbie, attached are the pages you asked for, Steve. Then I attached my file with the finished book. I sent a quick note with the chapters, inside the file. Debbie, please don’t send an email back unless you write to Steve. I’m okay, tell
my family in person. I love and miss you all. Don’t tell Brian.

  I sent the email, wishing I could have written more. God, I missed them so much, I had such a great life now, I wouldn’t risk losing it for the world. I just had to have hope that one day, and I wasn’t sure how or when, that I would see my family again. Maybe Nick would move on, and Debbie could somehow let me know. Not that I wanted him to abuse another innocent girl. I just wanted him to forget me.

  Since it didn’t take me long to send the emails, I decided to work from here. I didn’t want to get home until dark. I thought I’d stay the day and get take out Chinese for dinner. That was what Shimmer Lake was lacking—good takeout. When I got home hopefully I could go straight to bed. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do this for long, but I knew I wasn’t ready to face Noah right now.

  When I arrived home at about ten, I glanced at Noah’s. The house was dark, with a just the glow from the TV. That usually meant that he had fallen asleep on the couch. I sighed with relief, put the key in the lock, pushed the door open, and screamed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Pity Party

  It was dark in the living room, but I could see the shadow of a man lounging in my favorite armchair. Panic threatened to choke me. All I could think was that Nick had found me. I spun around, about to make a dash for the door when he spoke. “Anna.” Noah’s voice stopped me in my tracks. Shit! Thank God it wasn’t Nick, but he wasn’t the only one I was avoiding right now.

  “Jesus Christ, Noah, what the hell are you doing? Trying to scare me to death?” I was holding my heart, which was jumping out of my chest.

  His arm stretched out, turning on the lamp beside him, illuminating his face, which was hard, his eyes filled with worry. He was wearing worn jeans and a navy sweatshirt. His hair was ruffled as though he had been running his hand through it in frustration. “Where were you?” His voice was strained, etched with worry. My mind went to a dark place, of a different time, a different man, sitting in a dark room waiting for me. I blinked, pushing my dark thoughts away.

  Suddenly feeling guilty, I looked away from him, tossing my bag on the couch, then started to busy myself by hanging up my coat. “I went to Martin for the day. I had some things to take care of. Why?”

  “I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”

  I glanced at him as I stood in front of the coat rack, my arms crossed, hiding my shaking hands. Anxiety threatened to stir; the scene was too familiar. “You were worried about me? That’s ridiculous, I’m a grown woman.”

  Even from this distance I could see him frown. “I was more worried that you left without saying goodbye. Or who or whatever you’re running from, found you. I have been driving around all day searching.” He ran his hand down his face and sighed. A sign of relief or agitation, I couldn’t tell. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me were going to Martin?” Judging by the tone of his voice I’d guess agitation. Again, I flashed to a different man, dark eyes cold, as he spat hateful words at me.

  I had to stop thinking of Nick. Yes, the scene was familiar, but unlike Nick, Noah was worried for me. He knew I was running from something and I had left for the full day without letting him know. I didn’t blame him for being angry. He looked like he had had a rough day. And it was my fault, because I was too scared to face him.

  Although I knew I was in the wrong, my pride would not let me show it. Instead, I stood with my hand on my hip, irritation spiking. I felt the need to defend myself. Maybe it was the guilt. I hated feeling that way, when I knew what I was doing was right. I needed to keep my distance. “Because I’m not a child, and you’re not my father.”

  He shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together. “No, I’m not your father, but I am someone who cares about you.” His words reminded me of the ones he murmured last night right before he drifted off. I turned my head, looking out the window I couldn’t face him, those words hung in the air between us. The last time I was told them my life was turned upside down. My chest ached at the thought. “That’s it, isn’t it, you left today because you were avoiding me.”

  I stared at him, my face a blank mask. He was standing now, gazing at me with tortured eyes, making my heart ache. Don’t fall for it, I reminded myself. “Don’t be stupid. I told you, I had errands to run.” I wanted my voice to be strong, convincing him that I didn’t care, but instead they were soft, almost a question, emphasizing my confusion. I only hoped he didn’t notice.

  He shook his head again and pointed at me, the action was accusatory. “You’re upset because I said I loved you, and you were afraid I’d mention it, or tell you again. That’s why you left for the day, to avoid me. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  The ache in my chest was now throbbing. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath in. After a few seconds I opened them. “Noah, what does it matter? I’m home now and tired, I’d like to go to bed.” I started for my room. I didn’t get far before he grabbed my arm, whirling me around to face him. Panic shot through me so suddenly I choked on it. Despite the gentle hand, it wasn’t his grip I felt. It was one that was hard as a vise. I blinked, seeing Noah’s face, the feeling washed away.

  His eyes were wild with frustration and pain. “No, you’re going to sit down and listen to me. You owe me that after what you put me through.” I tried not to compare him to Nick. Although his voice was harsh and his eyes wild, a look I was very familiar with, the overall vibe was disappointment. He wanted more, and I had rejected him

  Tears threatened to fall. Everything I had built here, my friendship with him and Kathy—my peaceful existence was slipping away, I could feel it. My chest burned with the loss. “Noah, please don’t do this.” All I could manage was a whisper, afraid of what was about to happen.

  He stepped forward. “Don’t do what? Tell you that I love you?” His voice was soft.

  I stared into his eyes, but I couldn’t say anything. My emotions were in turmoil. Deep inside, I wanted him so badly, I needed him to show me how love is supposed to be, and I knew he would be gentle despite his anger. But I also hated the thought of losing him, and getting romantically involved with him would do that. My history with love wasn’t a good one. Besides Nick, the only person close to being serious was Jason, and I lost him.

  “I love you.” He took my hands in his, all the tension drained from his face. His hands were warm. I hated the tingle that I felt when he touched me. It made me want something that I couldn’t have. “I didn’t want to after what happened with Becca, but I do, and I can’t change that. These last few months have been the happiest of my life. And it’s because of you, Anna. I love being with you, I love our time together.” His eyes burned with longing. “But I want more.”

  I felt tears run down my cheeks. He was ruining everything. I pulled my hands out of his, and stepped away from him. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shook my head. “Noah I can’t give you more, I’m sorry,” I said softly, knowing it would hurt him. Why did everything have to change?

  His eyes showed the sting of rejection from last night. It pained me to see it. “You love me too, I know you do. I also know you felt something in that kiss last night, just as much as I did. Are you just going to ignore what we feel?”

  The ache in my chest returned, piercing my soul. “I can’t be with you that way.”

  “You’re not saying you don’t love me.”

  “Please stop this, you’re ruining everything. We were happy the way things were, why did you have to do this?”

  “Because I was happy with you, but I know that we can be more, we can have everything.” His eyes shone brightly with emotion, and the urge to jump into his arms was so strong.

  Deep inside, I wanted what he was offering, but I knew it wouldn’t last. Love never does; in the end everyone gets hurt. My parents had an everlasting love that was cut short by death, leaving my mother devastated. My love for Nick was crushed, after one blow. Noah’s ex cheated on him; why would he think we would be different? It didn’t last. I may write about fairy
tales, but I knew they weren’t real, just stories made from minds like mine.

  “I can’t.” It was a whisper, but from the flare of pain in his eyes, I knew he heard me.

  “Stop saying that you can’t, and tell me why.” Desperation echoed through his voice.

  “Noah, that’s all I can say.”

  He blinked. “I have a right to know.”

  “I know you do, but I’ve said everything that I can.”

  He backed up, a look of sorrow covering his face. “Then so have I.” He walked to the door and opened it.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, before he took a step outside.

  “I want more, and I can’t be just your friend.” With those words hovering in the air he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  I wanted to run after him and do whatever I had to, to make it the way it was. But I couldn’t. He changed things, and there was no going back. I forced myself not to cry, I could live without Noah, we were friends, and that’s all. I had only known him for a few months, I didn’t need him. And I was lying to myself, as much as I was lying to him.

  He was everything to me, a giant I looked up too, bigger than life, the last drop of water when I was thirsty, my bright spot in the cloudy world Nick had created, and I couldn’t ruin that. If I took the plunge, be what he wanted, what would happen if it ended? I needed him to survive. Without my family he was the most important person in my life and I wasn’t willing to risk losing him. But my fear of loss was what pushed him away; the irony was not lost on me.

  The room felt empty without him, and it didn’t help that his scent of spice and wood still lingered in the air. I fell onto the couch feeling exhausted. I threw my head down on a cushion and let the tears that had threatened earlier, fall.

  Over the next few days I buried myself in my work; I ate and wrote and did nothing else. I tried not to think of him, but he was forever on my mind. The look of rejection on his face haunted me. The only thing that pushed the image away was writing. So that’s what I did.