"So, what are you doing up?" Sandy asked. "Waiting for me to come home?"
Annie chuckled. Sandy did know how to provoke. "No, believe it or not, I couldn't sleep. I made some hot cocoa to help me relax. Do you want a cup? It's still fresh."
Sandy looked at the yellow mug filled with cocoa and marshmallows. She noticed that Annie was using her mother's mug but didn't say so. "What is it, that crappy instant stuff?"
Annie feigned offense. "Are you kidding?" she asked, standing up and heading over to the stove. "This is the real thing, the way hot cocoa is meant to be made. Real milk, cocoa, and sugar all heated up in a pan on the stove." Annie opened the cupboard next to the stove and pulled out a Disney mug with a princess on it.
"That's how my mom used to make it," Sandy said. "Sure. I'll have a cup."
"Good." Annie carefully poured the hot liquid into the mug, then dropped three large marshmallows into it. "The only way to drink cocoa," she said as she placed the steaming mug in front of Sandy. "Fresh, hot, and with three marshmallows on top."
Sandy stared with narrowed eyes at the mug of cocoa, the marshmallows floating on top, then back at Annie who sat down in her chair.
"Something wrong?" Annie asked, taking a sip of her cocoa.
"How did you know that I liked it with three marshmallows? And that this was the mug I used?"
Annie frowned. She had no idea how she knew, but she thought quickly. "Well, I'm guessing that Sam doesn't use a princess mug. And if it's your father's mug, then maybe I should be worried."
This brought a slight smile to Sandy's lips. "Ha, ha. What about the marshmallows?"
"I've always used three large marshmallows in my cocoa," Annie said. "My dad made it that way for me."
Sandy picked out one of the fluffy treats and popped it in her mouth. "It's the way my mom always made it for me, that's all." After taking a sip of cocoa, Sandy looked back up at Annie. "Are you even old enough for my dad? You look like you're in your twenties."
"Well, thank you for the compliment. I think. I'm thirty-six, so you don't have to worry that your dad is robbing the cradle."
"Oh," Sandy looked at her mug. "That's how old my mother was when she died."
A chill ran up Annie's spine upon hearing this. Sitting there, for just a moment, Sandy looked like a little girl lost. Annie's heart went out to her. She understood the feeling completely. Annie placed her elbows on the table, her chin on her clasped hands, and leaned in closer to Sandy. "Can I ask you about your mom?"
Sandy shrugged. She took another sip of the hot drink. "What do you want to know?"
"How did your mother die?" Annie asked.
A tiny crease appeared between Sandy's eyes. "Didn't my dad tell you?"
"No. We've talked a lot about your mother, but I never asked him how she died."
Sandy fiddled with her mug a moment, grasping it with both hands and rolling it gently between her palms, absorbing its warmth. She let out a small sigh. "Mom wasn't the type of person to say if she felt sick. She just kept going about her business, even if she didn't feel good. So the day she died, no one had any idea she was in so much pain until it was too late."
"Too late? What happened?"
"My mom's appendix burst, but we didn't know it until hours after it happened. My dad and Sam had been at the driving range, and I was in my room. When Dad came home, he saw Mom on the sofa, looking deathly pale. He took her to the emergency room as quickly as he could, and they operated, but it was too late. She died during surgery." Sandy pushed a stray strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and stared down at her mug. The marshmallows were melting and becoming gooey.
Annie sat in silence, thinking back to when her appendix had burst, and she'd also been operated on. Just by the luck of the draw, she'd survived, and Sara hadn't. "Were you and Sam there, at the hospital?"
Sandy nodded. "Maybe if Dad hadn't gone to the golf course with Sam, or if I'd come out of my room earlier that night, maybe we would have been able to help her in time. But we didn't. Mom took care of us, not the other way around."
Annie reached out and touched Sandy's arm. She was relieved that Sandy didn't try to shrug away. "It wasn't anyone's fault. It's just one of those awful things that happen. I had a similar experience a few years ago. My appendix burst, and I didn't know what was causing the pain until hours later. Your mother probably didn't know why she was in pain."
Sandy lifted her eyes to meet Annie's. Staring at Annie, she was reminded so much of her mother's eyes, of the mother she'd lost.
Annie saw sadness fill Sandy's blue eyes. "Thank you for telling me about your mother," she said, wanting to reach out and comfort the girl with a hug but not daring to. "I'm sorry if I upset you."
Sandy stood. The hot chocolate forgotten. "I'm going to bed," she announced. "Thanks for the cocoa." She turned and walked to the kitchen entrance before turning around. "By the way, did you know you're using my mother's favorite mug?" Sandy left the room before Annie could think clearly enough to respond.
Annie sat with a cup of cappuccino and a blueberry muffin in front of her in her favorite booth at Cherise's coffeehouse. It was late afternoon, and the rain outside pounded against the windowpane. William was in Beaverton today, and Annie had been busy with some work of her own at home, until she took a break to visit Cherise.
Still wearing her apron, Cherise walked over to the booth with a coffee in hand and sat opposite of Annie. "I'm happy you stopped in," Cherise said in greeting to her friend. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief. "I haven't seen much of you since you started seeing your dream lover."
Annie rolled her eyes at her friend. "He's not my dream lover," she said. Then she smiled. "Well, maybe he is," she admitted shyly.
"Oh, he's your dream man all right. You are positively glowing with happiness despite this windy, rainy day. Hey, any chance Mr. Dreamy has a single brother or cousin for me?"
"I don't think so," Annie said with a small chuckle. "But I'll put out my feelers for you."
The two friends caught up on each other's lives as the rain continued to pour down outside. Every once in a while, the bell on the door announced the arrival of a customer, but since it wasn't busy, the girl behind the counter took care of them so Cherise could relax and visit with Annie.
"I'm putting together a graduation party for Sam," Annie told Cherise. "Any ideas?"
Cherise's brows rose. "You're already playing the role of wife and mother? You and Mr. Dreamy must be getting very close."
"I am not his wife, and stop calling him Mr. Dreamy," Annie said, exasperated. "He has a name. It's William."
"I like Mr. Dreamy better," Cherise teased. "But all kidding aside, it sounds like you two are practically playing house. Isn't it a little soon?"
Annie's expression became serious. "I know what you mean, but it doesn't feel like we're moving too fast. It just feels right. Like I fit into his life so perfectly and belong with him. Is that weird?"
"No, it's not weird. It means you've finally found Mr. Right. It's very normal."
Annie sat quietly for a moment, wondering how she had slipped so easily into William's life when she'd never been able to do that with anyone else before. "There have been a few things that are strange about it, though," she finally said.
"Strange? How do you mean?" Cherise leaned in closer to Annie.
"Well, for one, my dreams have been changing lately."
"The color dreams?" Cherise was the only person who Annie had ever confided in about the strange dreams.
Annie nodded. "For years they were the exact same dream, except for sometimes seeing a man's face in them."
"Which turned out to be William's," Cherise reminded her.
"Yes. But recently a woman has been appearing in them, and in the last one, she spoke to me." A chill ran up Annie's spine, even now, just talking about the dream.
Cherise sat back against the booth, her eyes serious. "Hmm. Do you think maybe you've been around William and his house so much has cau
sed thoughts of his wife to invade your dreams? That wouldn't be so strange."
"Maybe," Annie said, thinking Cherise might be right. "But other weird things are going on, too."
"Like what?"
"That first night I had dinner at William's, I helped him in the kitchen afterward, and I knew exactly where everything went, like the silverware, dishes, and even the coffee mugs. Even William thought that was strange."
Cherise pondered this a moment. "I don't know if that's so strange. I find stuff in your kitchen easily. Women tend to set up their kitchens alike, food and dishes in the upper cupboards, pots, pans, and bakeware in the lower cabinets. That isn't so weird."
"That's the excuse I gave, but I didn't really believe it," Annie said.
"What other weird things are going on?"
"Well, that first weekend I stayed over, I knew exactly where to find the hand lotion in the nightstand. I just walked over, opened the drawer, and pulled it out like I knew what I was doing. Isn't that a little weird?"
Cherise shook her head. "Lots of women have lotion next to their bed. Again, not so weird."
Annie sighed. "I chose a coffee mug out from the very back of the cupboard that Sandy informed me use to be her mother's favorite. I made hot cocoa exactly like Sara used to and even put in the exact same number of marshmallows."
"You're still not convincing me that anything is weird."
"Okay, here's the kicker. Sara died five years ago while being operated on after her appendix burst."
Cherise looked up at her friend, her eyes widening. "Now that is strange. You had your appendix out around five years ago, too, didn’t you?"
Annie nodded. "And she was the exact same age I am now when it happened."
Both women sat quiet for several seconds, absorbing what Annie had said. Cherise was the first one to speak.
"Okay, when exactly did you have your appendix out?"
Annie thought hard. "I remember it was in the spring sometime, and I didn't start working again until May, because of the depression I was experiencing. I guess it may have been in March sometime. That time in my life is rather foggy."
"And when did Sara have her surgery?"
Annie shrugged. "I don't know the exact date. I guess I could try to find out. Why?"
"Honestly, I don't know why. I'm just trying to figure this all out. You dreamt about William, then he appeared. You were drawn to his house long before you met him. You're doing strange things that his dead wife would do, even though you've never met her. And now a strange woman is showing up in your dreams. It's all getting so weird."
Annie shook her head. "I just don't get it. I mean, she died during the same surgery that I had, and I came through just fine."
"Yeah, it's not like you both died during surgery, and you came back as her, right? Now that would be strange." Cherise laughed at her comment, but Annie only frowned. The very idea gave her goosebumps.
The conversation returned to Sam's party and what desserts Annie wanted to order from Cherise. But even though they didn't talk any more about Sara, Annie couldn't get Cherise's strange comment out of her head.
Chapter Thirteen
March and April slipped by quickly as Annie and William grew closer. Annie stayed many nights a week at William's and many of her personal items and clothes had a place at his house. Even if she had an assignment the next morning, she chose to stay at William's now. Often, they ate dinner at home, making simple meals, since Annie wasn't familiar with cooking and had no desire to learn. Sam, and even sometimes Sandy, joined them, and they all fell into a comfortable, familiar routine. On weekends, Annie and William went hiking on local trails or drove to trails further away and spent the day exploring. Annie always had her camera on hand, taking photos of the places they visited and uploading the best shots onto her website.
Many evenings found William in his study after dinner, working on home designs, and Annie sitting on a stool at the kitchen island with her laptop, sorting photos from her current shoot or updating her website. One such evening, Annie checked her e-mail and was surprised to see one from a travel magazine in Washington State. She quickly opened and read it, squealing with delight at its contents. She jumped up and hurried down the hallway into William's study.
"You're never going to guess who I just heard from," she blurted out.
William turned in his chair to look at her. "Who?"
"Travel Washington just e-mailed to ask if I'd be interested in taking the photos for a spread on the waterfalls on the Lewis River Trail," Annie said, her excitement growing.
William smiled. "That's wonderful."
Annie walked up behind William and draped her arms around his neck. "They saw a landscape layout I'd done for another magazine, then visited my website. When they saw the waterfall photos I posted on there, they said it convinced them I would be the perfect photographer for their layout." Annie hugged William tight. "Isn't that just wonderful? I'm so happy."
William chuckled at her enthusiasm. As Annie let go, he turned around in his chair and pulled her to him. "It is wonderful. I'm so happy for you. Did they say when they wanted you to shoot the layout?"
Annie shook her head. "No, but they want me to call them tomorrow and set up a time when we can have a meeting. They did mention wanting to do it soon so it can make the late summer issue. Apparently, the idea for this layout came up last minute, and they're in a rush."
"Well, they couldn't have picked a better photographer for the assignment. That's for sure." William placed a kiss on Annie's cheek. "I hope they don't want to book you for the middle of June, though."
Annie frowned. "Why?"
"You wouldn't want to miss Sam's graduation and party. You've been working so hard on it."
William turned back to his work, leaving Annie standing there, puzzled by what he'd said. Surely, he didn't think she'd give up a plum photography assignment for a graduation party. Especially an assignment as important as this one. Annie shook the thought from her mind as she walked out the door and back to the kitchen. She must have taken what he said the wrong way. William was very supportive of her photography career. There was no sense in her jumping to conclusions, especially before she knew when the magazine would actually want to book her.
Just as Annie sat again at the island, Sam came through the kitchen door. He was dressed as he usually was in khakis and a polo shirt, his dark hair windswept, and his face and arms a golden tan from his days on the golf course. Annie looked up and smiled at him as he walked in. "Hi, Sam."
"Hi, Annie." Sam came over to stand by the kitchen island and dropped his backpack onto a stool.
"Have you eaten yet?" Annie asked, glancing at the wall clock. It was after eight. She knew that Sam stayed at the golf course until the sun went down most nights, trying to get the most out of each practice.
"Yeah. I picked up a burger on the way home." Sam walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and stared at the contents for a moment before pulling out the milk container. He took a glass out of the cupboard and poured milk into it.
"If you're still hungry, there are cookies in the cookie jar," Annie said over her shoulder as she typed into her computer.
"Really?" Sam walked over to the cookie jar on the counter and stared at it a moment. He reverently lifted the lid and pulled out a cookie. "Hmm, peanut butter, my favorite," he said as he took a bite.
"Mine, too," Annie said, turning to look at him.
"Did you make these?"
Annie chuckled. "No, thank goodness, or you'd be choking on them right now. I can't cook or bake. Cherise gave me a dozen of them today. I thought it was better to bring them here so I wouldn't eat them all myself."
Sam was quiet as he ate the cookie and drank his milk, and Annie returned to her work. After a time, Sam said wistfully, "My mom used to bake all the time. The cookie jar was always full."
Annie stopped typing and slowly turned to look at Sam. He was tall, had a deep voice, and was very grown, up but in that on
e sentence, she'd heard the voice of a little boy speaking. A little boy who missed his mom.
"Your mom must have been an amazing woman," Annie said. "She was very talented in everything she did."
Sam just nodded.
"So, tell me how golf practice was today," Annie said. She didn't want Sam's evening to end on a sad note.
Sam grabbed another cookie from the jar and came around the island to sit across from Annie. "Terrible," he said. "I haven't been playing very well lately. I'm shanking my drives and pulling when I putt. I keep dropping balls into the water or losing them in the woods. The more I practice, the worse it gets."
"Well, I don't know what shanking a drive or pulling a putt is," Annie said. "But I do know about tensing up when trying too hard. Maybe you just need to relax a little. You must be feeling overloaded right now between golf, school, and thinking about going away to college."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, my coach says the same thing. But the harder I try to relax, the worse it gets."
Annie gave Sam a reassuring smile. "I'm sure you'll get yourself back into the game. You're great at what you do. You just need to remember that when you're out on the course."
"Thanks," Sam said. He stood, grabbed his backpack, and walked a few steps toward the staircase before turning around again. "I'm glad you're here, Annie," he said in his shy voice. "And thanks for the cookies."
Annie smiled and nodded, fighting to hold back tears until Sam ran up the stairs. It's nice being here, too. Annie made a mental note to try to keep the cookie jar full for Sam.
That night, Annie awoke suddenly, her heart pumping wildly. She sat up in bed, disorientated, until she remembered she was in William's bedroom.
William stirred beside her. "You okay?" he asked sleepily.
Annie reached out and patted his arm. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep," she said, although her voice was shaking. William hadn't heard the strange tone in her voice, and he rolled over and fell directly back to sleep.
Quietly, Annie slipped out of bed and pulled one of William's heavy sweatshirts over her nightshirt. She made her way out the door, being careful to close it gently behind her, and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Turning the light on over the stove, she stood a moment, not quite sure what she was doing. Outside, the wind howled fiercely. Rain had pelted against the windows that night just as she and William crawled into bed, but now only the wind was left of the storm.
Sara's Promise Page 11