He didn’t let go of her hand.
Annabelle smiled up at him.
“All right,” Mrs. Veragas said, her tone arched. “Back to flirting—with the fans.”
Two hours later, Annabelle carried the roast her grandmother had cooked and glanced around the table to see what else needed to be done. Plates, silverware, glasses, napkins, condiments, and all the dishes her grandmother had made were on the table. What was wrong?
Then she realized. Liam and Faith had set an extra place. They’d taken to doing that lately. It certainly wasn’t unusual to have one or four or more extra children. Everyone asked friends home to eat. But no one had asked anyone today. And still, an extra place was set next to hers.
“We asked Rick,” Faith said.
“He probably has other plans.” Annabelle remembered the last time she’d expected him to stay, and he hadn’t. She set down the roast and wiped her hands on her hips.
“No, he’s coming. He said he’d be here pretty soon.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“A couple minutes ago.” Then, at Annabelle’s frown, Faith added, “He texted me.”
“Oh, right.” Funny to think of her Rick—but he wasn’t hers, she had to remember that—texting her little sister.
She looked at Faith. Was her sister why—?
“And don’t go getting any dumb ideas,” Faith said. “Everybody in the family has his cellphone number.”
“Oh, right. No, I wasn’t even thinking that.” Annabelle shook her head and adjusted the angle of a few forks. Everybody had his cell number? She couldn’t even begin to think why they’d all need it.
Faith grabbed her wrist. “It looks fine. And he’s here.”
The front doorbell rang.
Three kids tumbled down the stairs and toward the door. Matt and Brody scuffled while Victoria pulled on the doorknob, and then Rick was in the room, and Annabelle’s heart was dancing and making it hard for her to breathe like a normal human.
“Hey.” He looked at her over the children’s heads before his face disappeared behind Mattie’s shock of dirty blond.
“Get off him!” Brody yelled. “Annabelle, Matt’s monop’lizing Rick.”
“It’s OK, Brody. He’s just saying hi.” Rick wrangled Matt under one arm and grabbed Victoria’s hand. “And it’s not like I didn’t see you guys just a couple hours ago.”
“Yeah, but that was shopping.”
“You took them shopping?” Annabelle asked. Why had she thought it was sport or church related?
Brody slapped his hand over his mouth, but Matt, facing the floor, squirmed until he could see Annabelle. “We had to get some fake snow. For the boutique, remember?”
“No.”
“Oh, wait, no. It was for Rick.” Mattie laughed. “We had to get some fake snow to make Rick into a real snow angel.”
“You’re nuts.” Joe, pounded down the stairs, pulled Matt from under Rick’s arm and set Matt on his feet. “You don’t make something real out of fake stuff.”
“’Thides, he’th already a real th’now angel.”
Everyone stared at Victoria.
“He is?” Annabelle asked, her voice faint. What was Victoria talking about?
“Yeah. We don’t need fake stuff, ’member, Mattie? ’Cuz you uthed baby powder, and I uthed thugar, and those thingth didn’t work. ’Cuz we’re all th’now angels.” She held her arms out to Rick, who picked her up.
“You’re right, kiddo,” he said. “We’re all snow angels.” He nuzzled her hair.
Annabelle shook her head, unable to keep up. “I think all I am is confused.” And the room was spinning, and she had no idea where she was or where she belonged.
Rick laughed and set Victoria on her feet. “It won’t last, I promise. It’ll all come clear before long.”
Blinking, Annabelle followed the others into the dining room where her grandmother waited for them.
Grandma didn’t comment on Rick’s presence. Was he such a part of their family now? Accepted? More than that?
Oh, she hoped he was more.
And as for the whole snow angel business? Victoria had let it go. Let it go as though it had never been an obsession with her. It was over. In the past. Forgiven, if she needed anything absolved. Certainly ready to be forgotten. She didn’t have to worry about making snow angels any more.
Annabelle didn’t have to worry about scars, or what she was meant to do with her life. Not that her life was over, just the worry. All in the same way.
She hesitated as everyone finished saying grace. Then, as casually as she could, she tucked her hair behind her ears. She exposed the scars.
Rick, sitting on that side, glanced at her. He smiled. “I’m surprised you had time to cook this with dance practice and all.”
“Oh, I didn’t. Grandma cooked tonight.”
He leaned past her to compliment her grandmother and took another bite.
He couldn’t have missed the scars.
Annabelle’s heart had stopped dancing and now performed flips and bounced off her chest walls.
If she weren’t so stunned, she might do the same, right there in the dining room.
~*~
Before Rick finished horning his way into a new family, he had to do something about his original one. His hands shook as much as they did whenever he thought of presenting that ring to Annabelle, and this wasn’t even close to face-to-face confrontation.
But he had to call his family. He had to make some sort of start to bringing people—his people—together, and not allowing them all to drift apart.
An hour later, Rick put down his cellphone and rubbed his chin. His goatee had gotten too long. He needed a trim. He needed to think about his phone call to his parents. About the phone call to his grandfather. About how everyone said how good it was to hear from him, and they loved him, too, and Merry Christmas, Rick. Don’t wait so long before you call again. And yes, maybe they’d all come out to California if there was a wedding to look forward to.
He needed to think about how, maybe, the rift in the family was mostly in his head.
And if it wasn’t imaginary, well, it had mended in the last few years, or maybe God had filled it in with forgetfulness. Whatever had happened, it seemed to be gone.
He had to tell Annabelle. He grabbed a few things and ran to his car, imagining the joy on her face. When he’d told her about his family, up there in the snow, for a minute she’d looked as lost as he felt. But he didn’t want to tell her the good news over the phone. He wanted to see her face. He had to.
And there weren’t any more dance rehearsals to use as an excuse to see her. Soccer season was over for the holidays. No more giving the boys rides home and stopping in to see her afterwards. No more looking up from the sidelines of a game and seeing her with her hair, and sometimes a hat, pulled over her face, until she got distracted cheering for the team.
Though now he thought of it, that hair hadn’t been covering her face so much lately. Yeah—it hadn’t, because he’d seen those scars. Funny. Until just that moment, he hadn’t even noticed himself noticing them.
They did look as if they’d hurt, though, a long time ago.
He pulled up to the curb in front of the Archer house, wondering what made him think that Annabelle would be there waiting for him to show up. He hadn’t bothered to call ahead, and of course, the van was gone. Twisting his mouth with disappointment, he reached to start the engine again when several small bodies burst from the house.
“Don’t go!” Mattie slammed against the passenger door, and Brody yanked on his brother’s sweater. “We’re here. Don’t leave.”
Rick had no objections to seeing the kids while he waited for Annabelle. But his mind was so full of issues and problems and solutions that he didn’t think he could postpone discussing things with her.
He didn’t think he could wait any longer, either, to give her at least one of the packages he’d piled into his car.
He glanced
behind him at the flat, red-wrapped and green-ribboned package on the backseat before he patted his shirt pocket. Yup, everything was still there.
“Hey, kiddo. Peel yourself off the paint job, OK?” Laughing, he got out of his car and scooped up two of the kids. He trudged to the front door where Faith and Liam waited for him.
“Where’s Annabelle?”
“She took Grandma to the church parking lot so Grandma can practice driving again. She’s gonna try to renew her license. If she does, Annabelle’s gonna have lots more time.”
Rick stared at Liam. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Want to take us over there so we can watch?”
“No.”
After a second, Liam nodded. “Yeah, maybe it’s better we don’t know how bad she is. No point in giving everyone nightmares.”
Faith smacked Liam’s shoulder. “Nobody’s gonna have nightmares.”
Rick deposited the two kids on the porch before he loped back to his car and opened the door. “Can I bring this in? It’s a present for Annabelle.” He pulled out the huge package, and Mattie burst into tears.
“What?” He stared as Matt, followed by Brody, raced into the house. “What did I do?”
“Oh, nothing.” Faith, looking as though she’d lost her best friend and her cellphone all on the same day, shrugged. “We were just talking, you know, and Joe said how he bet you were gonna give her a ring. So I guess Mattie’s kinda disappointed.”
“Is that all?” Rick had to pretend to a protracted sneezing fit to keep any of the kids from seeing his grin. OK, they were all going to be surprised.
Twenty minutes later, he held the front door for Annabelle and her grandmother. The impulse to give Annabelle a kiss as she walked in nearly made him crack apart, but he held himself together. Just a few more days—if he could make himself wait. Half of him argued that he couldn’t, that the timing wasn’t important. The other half pointed out how attached Annabelle was to all things Victorian, and that his silly little plan was the best. With a sigh, he gave in to that half, and left the box in his pocket.
But the other gift would not wait.
“Rick brought you a present,” Brody told her.
Mattie, who should have been right next to his brother, urging Annabelle to rip off the wrapping, stood in the corner of the stairs and sniffed.
Grandma looked up as she stumped inside. “We need some mistletoe, don’t you think?”
“Pagan practices,” Annabelle muttered, but her eyes twinkled.
“Come open it!” Brody grabbed Annabelle’s hand.
“No one wants to know how I did?”
Annabelle laughed. “Grandma did great, you guys. I bet pretty soon she’ll have her own car. She’s going places.”
“As long as she takes some kids with her,” Rick said, but low enough that only Joe heard him and laughed.
“Come on, A’belle. Only Mattie’s crying ’cuz it’s too big for a ring.”
“Brody.” Rick gave the boy a one-eyed glare and then patted his bottom. “Lead on, kiddo, and don’t embarrass me anymore.”
“You have high hopes.” Annabelle loosened her red scarf and followed the rest into the living room. “Wow. It’s big.”
“Yeah. It really is too big for a ring. And it’s heavy, too.” Brody pouted.
Rick gave Brody another glare, with both eyes this time, and then took Annabelle’s coat. “It’s an early Christmas present. Actually, Victoria gave me the idea to give it to you early.”
“Me?” Two shining blue eyes stared up at him and melted him all over again.
“Yeah, you said we were already all snow angels, so I thought I’d better give it to her now.” He took Victoria’s hand and hugged her.
With a puzzled look at him, Annabelle turned to pull the paper from the package.
The others crowded around, jostling but not arguing.
Rick stepped back a little, suddenly shy. What if she didn’t like it? What if she thought he was—well, presumptuous—to use a very Victorian term?
“Oh, Rick. Oh, it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect.” Her eyes glowed, and her cheeks had gone a delicate shade of pink.
Ah, well, that was all right. Because he thought it was perfect, as well.
He’d taken a picture with his cellphone of the line of snow angels, enlarged it in print, and framed it. Maybe the quality didn’t match the pictures she’d taken with her fancy camera, but he hadn’t seen anything developed.
With her forefinger, Annabelle traced the snow angels, her finger going slower as she got to her own image, and then to his.
His heart swelled. She liked his gift.
“You should put it in the dining room so we can all look at it,” Brody said.
“No, she should put it wherever she wants.” Faith crossed her arms and frowned at their little brother.
“But she’ll put it in her room, and then we can’t never look at it.”
“Brody—”
“Faith—”
Struggling not to laugh, Rick met Annabelle’s gaze. Really, right then wasn’t the time to tell her about the phone calls to his relatives. But she’d be just as happy to hear about it later that evening, after he’d taken her for a quiet dinner.
10
Annabelle adjusted the ruffles foaming over the bodice of her cranberry colored dress. She avoided checking in the mirror again because she’d spent enough time studying the way the green and cranberry ribbons held her hair off her face, and exposed the scars.
You’re used to it now, she said silently, and forced herself not to argue back.
Right. She was used to it, but she had no idea what Rick thought of the scars.
I’m over that. Remember? It’s all past stuff. Doesn’t matter what he thinks. He’s never mentioned it, so he must not think much of them.
Right?
She took a deep breath and moved out of the tiny bathroom tucked between the hall and the row of classrooms and hurried to the room set aside for the dance demonstration. Mrs. Veragas had brought in a collection of old-fashioned chairs, lots of lace to drape over tables and windows, and even a large and obviously fake fireplace, complete with tissue paper flames.
Annabelle brushed her hands over the satin dress and down her hips. Every time she passed someone she knew, she expected violent reactions. She got a few strange looks, once or twice an averted gaze, but for the most part, the only thing that met her were greetings and hugs.
OK, one test down. On to the final exam—Rick.
Maybe he wouldn’t like to know she thought of him that way, but she couldn’t help it. Once she passed, once she aced the test, she could go back to seeing him as a man—and what a man! But for now, she had to get past this hurdle.
If he was as loving as she hoped, he wouldn’t mind.
He’d hold her hand while she got over it, but he wouldn’t mind.
OK, enough of this masochistic procrastination, she told herself. Go in there and get on with it.
She walked into the room and saw Rick across the dance floor. The look on his face said everything she wanted: you’re beautiful; I’m enchanted; I think I’m falling in love…
He bounded to her and grabbed her hand. “Annabelle, you’re beautiful.”
She could wait to hear the rest.
The music started. The three couples took their places and began the first country dance. Other than a faint awareness of an audience, and Mrs. Veragas’s occasional announcements over a microphone, all Annabelle saw was Rick. All she felt was Rick. All she heard was the music that either led her toward or away from Rick. The waltz was an exercise in heaven.
During the first break, he brought drinks for them both. She took hers and grinned up at him.
“Oh, fetching punch, just as any proper Victorian gentleman would. I’m proud of you.”
His dimples showed. “Impressed, are you?”
“Very.” She took a sip, forcing herself not to gag on the overly-sweet mixture.
Annabelle took it. “Already?”
“It’s a performance. It’s time we got with the show,” Rick pointed out. He took her glass and then leaned closer. “OK, I’m going to go talk to that group of ladies over there. They’ve been watching us. You do the ‘come hither’ motion with the fan, and I’ll come.”
Annabelle glanced at the women he headed toward. Three of her grandmother’s friends watched her, and to her shock, she saw her grandmother just behind them.
Grandma hadn’t come to a church function on her own in years. And where were the kids? Annabelle supposed the three older kids were watching the younger, but then, how would they get to the boutique? They’d all been looking forward to it.
Rick glanced over his shoulder and nodded.
With a sigh, she closed her fan and then touched the tip with her forefinger.
Rick excused himself from his conversation and came back to her.
“Very good.” She forced herself to meet his eyes and kept her voice just above a whisper. “What’s up with my grandmother?”
“She brought the kids.”
Dismay filled her. “Oh, please tell me she didn’t. She hasn’t gotten her license renewed yet.”
“She didn’t drive, no. Mrs. Weller did. They’re picking out the last of their Christmas gifts at the boutique, and then they’ll be in here to watch the dance.”
Annabelle hit his shoulder with the fan, signaling her impatience. “They’ve done enough shopping, don’t you think?”
He looked like he was trying to hide a smile, and failing. “Just a few things, Annabelle. Don’t worry.” He motioned to the fan. “I’m more interested in what you’re going to tell me next.”
Opening it, she covered her mouth and nose. “I have no idea what this means, but it looks flirtatious, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” His lips twisted.
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“Well, if I remember right, you open the fan halfway—” His fingers, warm and tingle-inducing, covered hers as he separated the ribs. “And then you touch it to your lips.”
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