“I don’t want to hurt anyone else. Because I never was sure—”
“The witnesses told the cops—”
“If I’d gone down a different street. Or left the parking lot five minutes later. If I’d done something different—”
“You’re not in charge of the world, Grandma. You couldn’t have known. You couldn’t change things.”
Grandma wiped a hand across her mouth. “I kept thinking how, now, raising seven kids was going to be my sole responsibility. And I was too old to deal with that.”
“But I always thought it was my job.” Annabelle glanced at her. “You kept asking me what I was going to do about everything. It was always my decision, what to do with the kids, where they’d go if we didn’t keep them. It was always up to me.”
Grandma nodded. “I couldn’t.”
“I was barely twenty years old.”
“You grew up fast.”
“Who says I wanted to?”
She pulled up to the high school where Faith waited with two of her friends. All three climbed into the car, saying hello. Faith asked if they could drop the others off before picking up anyone else.
“No problem.” Annabelle put on her signal, checked traffic, and pulled away from the curb.
It wasn’t a problem. Doing her sister a favor was a privilege.
Taking care of her family was a privilege. Not a job, nor an obligation, nor a burden. Nor a reason to stop living.
She didn’t seem to have gotten any answers or directions.
Just a new point of view.
Maybe that was enough.
~*~
Three days later, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time, Annabelle all but skipped as she entered the church hall for dance practice. What could be better than spending time in Rick’s arms? They had two more rehearsals before their final performance, and she planned to make the most of every minute.
Oh, the things that hope could do to a person’s heart.
But rather than lead them in any new steps, Mrs. Veragas started talking about costuming, makeup, and hairstyles. “I have some dresses we can alter for the women,” she finished. “Men, do any of you have a coat with tails?”
Of the three, only Rick knew what tails were. And he didn’t have any.
“Shame,” Mrs. Veragas muttered. “Still, we’ll make do. And ladies, upsweep hairdos. None of these modern styles, you hear? All right, now, take your places. Today, we’re going to learn the waltz.”
Annabelle would have been delighted if Mrs. Veragas had left out the instructions about hair. She’d have thrown herself into the dance, and into Rick’s arms, and enjoyed every touch. But now, she had to fight down panic; in less than a week, she’d be showing off her scars to the world. And just because she’d planned to do so someday didn’t mean she wanted to be forced into it so soon. She wanted it to be on her schedule, not someone else’s.
Rick put one hand at her waist and clasped her free hand with his other. “You OK, little angel?”
“What?” She shook her head. “I’m no angel.”
He chuckled. “Everyone in your family is an angel. Even the ones who keep dropping sticky, sparkly things in my hair.”
“Your hair?” She looked up, let go of his hand to make sure her own hair covered her cheek. But she wasn’t supposed to do that anymore. She’d promised herself, not to mention God, and the memory made her blush with shame.
“Oh, it’s no big deal.” Rick must have taken her red face as anger at the kids. “They think I’m a snow angel. Or they’re trying to turn me into one. I haven’t exactly figured out which.”
“I’m not surprised,” Annabelle murmured. Louder, she asked, “I remember the baby powder, but what else have they used?”
“So far, just sugar and baby powder. I’m waiting to be doused in flour.”
“At least they haven’t resorted to marshmallow fluff.”
“Oh. Ah.” His eyes widened. “You don’t happen to have any at home, do you?”
She shook her head and held back a laugh at the look on his face. “Never buy the stuff.”
“Good.”
Mrs. Veragas interrupted with a vigorous replacing of hand and foot positions. “The waltz is the most elegant of the dances I’m teaching you, but also, the most scandalous. It took years before it was accepted as a proper dance because the couples not only don’t change partners, they dance close together.”
Even Rick laughed at that.
Annabelle felt herself blushing again. She’d been born in the wrong time. She really had. She belonged to a gentler, more circumspect era.
When they came back together, Rick’s expression nearly made her lose her breath. What right did he have to look so fond, so sweet? At her?
Wait—this was what she wanted, right? Whenever she thought of really living, wasn’t this what she imagined? His arms, around her, always, his sweetness hers, always—
Being bold and brave was far too scary for her.
Maybe she really needed to crawl back into that shell Faith disliked and protect herself.
“So, what’s for dinner tonight?”
She stared, her mouth hanging open. Finally, she managed, “Pardon me?”
“Oops. Sorry. That sounds like I’m inviting myself and I never—I mean—”
She really liked the way pink stole into his cheeks. It made her feel slightly less conspicuous. “Grandma is making a stew. And you’re always welcome.”
He raised his chin. “I appreciate that. But I was thinking of inviting you out to dinner.”
“All of us?” She stopped, and in that huge room, with only two other couples circling round, one couple bumped into them.
“No.” He grimaced at the others and steered her to a quieter corner. “I mean, just us two.”
Everything she wanted—everything she’d dreamed of—for years—watching him across the church—everything—
“No. I ca— No, I’m sorry. The kids—I mean—I’m not—”
“Yeah, OK. No problem.”
If she judged by his expression, it was a problem. A huge one.
He’d just asked her on a date, and she’d refused.
So much for living.
8
On the way home from the next practice, Liam gave Rick a sad, accusing stare as he climbed into Rick’s SUV. “You promised to take us shopping for Annabelle.”
“You’re right, I did. And I forgot. I’m sorry.” How could he have forgotten that? But then, he’d been too focused on her rejection. Which probably had as much to do with her own insecurities as it did with how she felt about him. Rick checked the rearview mirror and looked over his shoulder at Joe. “What’s a good time for you two?”
Joe glanced at Liam. “It’s not just the two of us.”
“Who else? Does Faith want to go?”
“Yeah. But so do the little kids.”
Rick felt his eyes widen, and the car speed slacken. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and forced himself to concentrate on driving. “All of them?”
“Well, yeah. She’s everyone’s sister.”
“OK.” Rick put on speed and caught up with traffic. Sister or not, Annabelle deserved everything Rick could arrange for her. And it might make her accept his next offer of a date.
Especially if he could make it sound like he wasn’t asking for a date.
“Sure. Why not? When do you want to go?”
“She’s got another one of those committee meetings tomorrow right before your last dance rehearsal. We could go then.”
“We could, but we wouldn’t have much time. I have to be at the rehearsal, too, you know.”
“We know.” Liam nodded. “Annabelle really likes practicing with you.”
That was good to hear. Since Rick really liked practicing with Annabelle. Especially now that they got to spend some of that time waltzing and not changing partners. And got to dance, as Mrs. Veragas kept telling them, scandalously close. He grinned. “All right,
then. I’ll pick you all up at four. Make sure everyone is ready. I don’t want to be late getting back.”
“We’ll be sure.”
~*~
Seeing all six kids lined up on the porch, dressed in red or green sweaters or jackets, and even, in Victoria’s case, a poppy-red knit hat with a jaunty bobble on top, brought the whole Christmas spirit crashing down on Rick.
He’d missed it. He really hadn’t felt it in years, and now, just when he’d decided he’d gotten too old for it, there it was.
Laughing, he opened the car doors and supervised the kids as they piled inside. Good thing he had an SUV, because he had just enough seatbelts. He’d even borrowed a car seat for Victoria.
“We going to the mall?” Joe asked.
“Sure. But you guys have to promise to stick together and choose fast. We don’t have much time.”
They promised.
Too bad they couldn’t keep their promise. At the mall, Christmas songs, several going at once, bombarded them. Matt and Brody started a contest of who could outshout the other’s verses. Rick separated them and paired Matt with Joe and Brody with Liam. Faith already held Victoria’s hand, but Rick wouldn’t have minded that job. He had an unholy urge to bounce her hat bobble back and forth just for fun.
“Clothes first.” Faith lead the way to a small boutique.
The seven of them would barely fit inside.
“Clothes are boring.” Matt jerked his hand free and crossed his arms. “I’m not getting her dumb clothes.”
“She likes clothes,” Faith pointed out.
Rick squatted in front of the little boy. “So what do you want to get her? Toys?”
“Yeah!” Mattie took off across the mall.
Joe recaptured him and together with Rick, towed him into the store where Faith had piled Liam’s arms with her choices.
Rick checked the time. They were already running behind. He sighed.
“Annabelle doesn’t play with toys anymore.” Victoria wrinkled her nose at Matt.
“She plays with our toys.” Matt’s eyes went narrow and mean.
Rick angled himself closer just in case he needed to intervene. He should have kept his mouth shut.
“That’s only ’cuz we make her.” Brody scrunched his nose. “Anyway, we’re gonna get plenty of our own.” He started bouncing.
Rick could just imagine the chaos in their living room on Christmas morning. He couldn’t wait.
But Victoria and Matt were still facing off like contenders, so Rick separated them. “Clothes first. Other stuff in a bit.”
Faith shone in picking out styles and colors that Rick was sure would make Annabelle glow. After they loaded the younger kids down with packages, they managed to corral them more easily.
Perfumes, bath items, books, costume jewelry—the kids proclaimed nearly everything they saw as perfect for Annabelle. By the time they’d gone through three stores, everyone had at least one package to tote.
Liam hesitated outside a jewelry store. “Can we afford to get her something real?”
The kids perched on a few empty benches and piled their remaining stashes onto Faith’s lap. Joe straightened crumpled bills, Liam counted coins, and Faith kept a running total.
“Maybe something small,” she finally said. “A bracelet or a little necklace.”
Inside, the clerk’s eyes widened when he saw the number of kids, but to Rick’s surprise, they all behaved. Hands tucked behind their backs, they asked politely to be shown various items, discussed their merits like professional jewel traders, and to Rick’s further astonishment, took a vote.
“What if it’s a tie?” Brody asked.
Liam shrugged. “Rick can break it.”
But he didn’t have to. While Faith paid for the delicate scrolled necklace, Matt tugged on Rick’s arm.
“Look at that one.” He pointed to a display next to the engagement rings, marked “Promise Rings.” “That one looks like a snowflake.”
It did.
Rick leaned over the case. The ring just under Matt’s finger was as small and delicate as the necklace, and a spray of diamond chips shone in the platinum setting.
“We should’ve got that,” Matt pouted.
“It’s for people who are in love, silly.” Joe steered Matt away.
Matt craned his body around, trying to see what Rick was doing. “But it’s a real snow angel ring. It’s just right for Annabelle.”
“It’s OK, Mattie. She’ll love the necklace. I promise.” Joe took his little brother’s hand.
Rick checked the time again, fighting down a thread of panic. So he was going to be a little late to the rehearsal. He could deal with that. But the kids were standing in front of the tiny bakery beside the jewelry store, staring at the display of treats as if their oldest sister wasn’t a true wizard of sweets.
“OK,” he said, after a hurried text to Annabelle. “You guys were good. We can take five minutes to get a snack, all right?”
He got cheers, and then he got six orders of hot cocoa ice cream. When the kids had crowded around the table, Rick told the older ones, “I’ll be right back. Don’t anybody go anywhere.”
He made sure they couldn’t see him from the table and hurried to the jewelry store. Even though he wasn’t certain of Annabelle’s ring size, he elected to take the ring with him, along with a guarantee that it could be sized later. He stowed it in his pocket and hoped Matt wasn’t the kind of kid to search someone’s clothing. Just because the kid had picked it out didn’t mean Rick wanted him in on giving it to Annabelle.
Back in the food court, he found pandemonium building.
“Matt went to the bathroom—” Faith began.
“Alone?” Rick glared at the two older boys.
“And when Liam checked, he wasn’t there.”
Rick closed his eyes for a second of fighting off panic with a whisper of prayer. He’d taken one of Annabelle’s precious brothers and lost him? He spun around, searching for a security officer, and instead saw Matt sprinting through the crowds.
Joe grabbed him. “You are so busted. Where were you?”
“Just looking.”
Yeah, looking guilty. Rick squatted in front of him. At least these kids were great exercise. “Didn’t you know how much everyone would worry?”
Matt grimaced. “I thought I could get back before then. Anyway, you went somewhere without us.”
“He’s got something in his pocket,” Brody told Rick.
Everyone looked at Rick, and for the first time he felt the full impact of being regarded as the final authority. He shook his head. “OK, look, it’s late. I should have been at rehearsal twenty minutes ago. We have to leave now.”
He took Matt’s hand. “Are you sure you paid for whatever you’ve got there?”
“I don’t steal!” Matt’s bottom lip jutted out. “Faith gave everyone change from the necklace. That’s what I spent.”
Dole out discipline where he wasn’t sure it was needed and disappoint Annabelle or—
Rick headed for the car.
9
Annabelle checked her phone, relieved to finally see a text from Rick. “He’ll be here as soon as he drops my brothers and sisters off at home,” she told Mrs. Veragas.
She didn’t miss the look the woman exchanged with one of the other dancers. And she didn’t have to think hard to figure out what it was about. Rick, taking care of Annabelle’s siblings, meant—well, what did it mean? Annabelle knew what she wanted it to mean, which was exactly the same thing that look on Mrs. Veragas’s face suggested, but whether it did mean that, she couldn’t say.
Still, her heart was tiptoe-excited, and she vowed that she wasn’t going to delete a single text from the man, unless—well, she wasn’t. Ever. That was all there was to that.
“We’ll practice curtsies and bows until he gets here. Oh and fans.” Mrs. Veragas picked up a huge, poinsettia-and-white-rose bedecked fan and passed similar ones to all the women. “Not only do the girls
need to know this language, but the men do, as well. They need to know how to read it.”
“Huh?” Julie took the flowery fan and turned it front to back, peering at it. “These things have writing on them?”
“No, but the way a woman holds it means different things. Victorian women used them to flirt.”
Annabelle covered the bottom half of her face with her fan and fluttered her eyelashes.
When everyone stared at her, she raised her eyebrows. “What? I read a lot.”
Greg laughed. “Looks like I’m gonna have to start reading.”
Tom poked him. “Why? She’s not gonna flirt with you.” He turned and winked at Annabelle.
She started to put her hand up to make sure her hair covered her cheek and forehead but made herself stop before she changed anything. No. She wouldn’t hide any more. Maybe that had worked before. Maybe she’d needed it when she hadn’t understood how precious a child of God she was. Now, she was who she was.
She turned to Mrs. Veragas. “I only know a few motions.” She touched the tip of her fan with her forefinger. “This means, I want to talk to you privately, right?”
Mrs. Veragas nodded. “Very good. Let’s everyone practice that. I realized that if you are all dancing for three hours straight, you’ll be exhausted. So we’ll have a few tableaus to break it up. A good flirt is always interesting to watch.”
“Well, I know who’s gonna be flirting with who.” Tom snorted with laughter.
Julie pushed his shoulder. “He won’t know what she means unless he shows up pretty soon.”
“She can teach—” Anson choked as Rick walked into the hall.
After all their hints and outright assurances, Annabelle felt the world would tilt and fall, bouncing across the universe if he didn’t show some sign of his feelings. And if he didn’t—well, she was used to letdowns, used to dreams that fizzled before she fully woke up. Only this time, she wasn’t asleep.
He strode across the floor and took her free hand. “Sorry to be so late. We sort of lost Mattie, but we found him. Nothing to worry about. He was looking at something.”
Annabelle's Angel Page 5