by Casey Dawes
“I’d like to believe you, really I would. But it will take time. And time is the one thing we don’t have.”
“Maybe you’ll find a job here.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can’t we just have a nice day and let it go at that?”
“Sure. Ready to go?”
She nodded. They saddled up and rode back to the barn.
Once they’d taken care of the horses, she left so fast that there was no time for any more conversation. She sure was skittish. He wondered if there was more than a bad divorce in her past.
• • •
When Annie and David got to Elizabeth’s for brunch after church the following Sunday, Elizabeth was pulling biscuits out of the oven. “Sarah and her new boyfriend Ray got here a few minutes ago from Berkeley. They’re in the living room.” Elizabeth dumped the biscuits into the linen-lined breadbasket and handed it to Annie.
“Mmm,” Annie said, sniffing the ambrosia of warm butter and yeast. She snagged a crumb from the edge of the basket. “Is there anything you don’t do well? I thought bread-making was my gig.”
Elizabeth pointed to the stainless steel garbage bin in the corner. The edge of a bright blue wrapper peaked out from under the lid. “You remain queen of the bread.” She picked up a glass casserole containing a kaleidoscope of cheese, eggs, and bright green chiles.
Annie followed her out of the kitchen with the breadbasket, David trailing her. “Yum, huevos rancheros, my favorite.”
“Come and get it,” Elizabeth said as she placed the bubbling dish on a long wooden trivet at the end of the oak dining room table set with Italian blue, white, and yellow Fiesta plates perched on blue woven placemats.
Elizabeth’s daughter, Sarah, walked in from the living room, towing a reluctant Ray. “David!” Sarah said, rushing toward the teenage boy. “You get bigger every time I see you! I’d never be able to babysit you now!” She gave him a strong hug; David patted his hands on her back. In spite of his awkward attempt at a hug, he had a large grin on his face.
“What’s this nonsense about you getting in trouble with the law?” Sarah asked. “You know better than that!” She shook her finger at him and then turned to Annie, giving her a quick hug before plopping into a chair next to Ray. “And why is Mom telling me you’re moving to New Jersey? You’re not moving anywhere. What would my mother do without you two … she’d start showing up in Berkeley! No, you need to stay here to protect me.”
“Enough with the inquisition,” Elizabeth admonished her daughter with a smile. “I’m not going to invade your life in Berkeley. I’ve got too much going on here.”
“R-i-i-ght.” Sarah looked around. “Where’s Bobby?”
“He couldn’t make it this morning.” Elizabeth glanced at Annie.
“This is Ray,” Sarah announced, kissing the young man on his cheek. He immediately reddened, raising his hand in a brief wave, mumbling something that sounded like, “Hi.”
Elizabeth held out her hands to Sarah and Annie. When the circle was completed, she bowed her head and began the well-worn prayer, “Bless us, O Lord … .” The chorused “Amen” gave the signal to dig in.
Elizabeth dished the eggy custard onto passed plates as the biscuits made their appointed rounds. The clatter of serving spoons and dishes served as the counterpoint to Sarah’s recounting of her latest lab failure. She was getting a degree in environmental science — if she could ever pass organic chemistry.
Elizabeth turned to Ray. “So how are your classes going?”
“Ray’s a political science major,” Sarah said. “He’s a member of the Young Republicans, too.”
“They allow Republicans in at Berkeley?” Annie asked.
“I wanted to understand their point of view,” Ray said. “Last year I was a member of College Democrats of America. So far, I haven’t seen much difference. Everyone’s talking and no one’s listening.”
Out of the mouths of babes, Annie thought.
Tension at the table eased as Ray enthusiastically described his classes. In spite of his tendency to blurt everything that came into his mind, he was entertaining.
“Why do you want to move out of California, Annie?” Sarah interrupted Ray. “They’ve got snow for months in New Jersey. I think it even snows on the beach.” Sarah looked at David. “Are you moving too? Or are you staying here until you graduate from high school?”
David glanced over at his mother and mumbled, “I told Mom I’m not going.” He shoveled eggs into his mouth.
“Of course you’re going,” Annie said. “They’ve got good schools in Princeton. Soccer, too. It’ll be tough in the beginning, but you’ll be fine. Nothing to worry about.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
After brunch, Sarah and Ray drove off to see some of Sarah’s friends, taking David to drop him off at soccer practice, while Annie and Elizabeth cleaned up. When the last pot was dried, Elizabeth said, “I have two more cups of coffee and a Sunday Chronicle. Want to sit in the garden?”
“Sounds heavenly. Need help with the coffee?”
“No, go on out. I’ll be right there.” She handed Annie the paper.
Annie settled into the blue-cushioned wicker chair with the entertainment section on her lap. Iris and gladiola stalks were intermingled with bright daffodils while pink and red cyclamens and silver-leaved Dusty Millers edged the jade green lawn.
Elizabeth placed a painted metal toleware tray on the glass-topped garden table.
“How do you make the garden look so beautiful all the time?” Annie asked.
“Hard work and lots of water,” Elizabeth settled down into her own chair with the financial section.
“How come Bobby wasn’t here for brunch?”
Elizabeth folded her paper down. “I left him a message. I’ve been leaving him messages all week and he hasn’t answered one of them yet.”
“You guys have a fight?”
“Not really.”
“What happened?”
“It’s the same old thing, Annie. He wants to get married and I don’t.”
“I’ve never understood that. You had a good marriage with Joe. Bobby’s perfect for you — you’re great friends and everyone can see the electric sparks between you. He’s stable financially. Love, money, and sex — what more can you want?”
“Freedom. Annie, I went from my crazy Italian household to marriage with Joe. Everyone was always telling me what to do — my parents, my brothers, tons of Italian relatives who came every Sunday for dinner — even Joe. We had a great marriage, but I never really knew what it was like to live on my own, be my own person. I love Bobby, but I like my time alone, too. I can run my own life and I’m not willing to give that up for twenty-four hours every day with anyone, not even Bobby.”
“Does he understand that?”
“I explain, and he nods his head, but I don’t think he’s really listening. We’re good for a few weeks and then he asks again. He’s so stubborn that he figures if he keeps asking I’ll give in.”
“There’s got to be some way you guys can make this work.”
“I don’t know. I’m tired of trying.” Elizabeth snapped open her paper and buried her nose in it.
Chapter 8
John spent his weekend with Beth Brighton, the real estate agent Elizabeth had recommended, looking for a place where there was enough room to stable Starfire and set up his welding equipment, which was still in storage after the move from Montana. He’d tried welding in college, using the class to fulfill an undergraduate requirement. Surprising himself, he’d taken to it, enjoying the process of pulling broken shapes together.
During his marriage to Jessica, he’d maintained the ranch equipment and structures on their small spread in the Bitterroot Valley south of Missoula. As his wife had b
ecome sicker, and even more after she’d died, he’d begun to weld odd sculptures together, using the physical labor to sweat out his sorrow, littering the lawn with angry bits of metal.
By five o’clock on Sunday, he still hadn’t seen any properties that suited him. The houses were either too close together or too expensive. Brushing off dinner with the Beth, John climbed into his truck and headed back to his temporary home.
Why in hell did Annie have to leave? She had said she felt safe with him. Truth was, he felt safe with her, too. He was pretty sure that what he saw was the true woman, but there was something she was hiding. The skittishness he’d seen on Friday ran deep. There was more to her story than a bad marriage with Fred. Was that she why she was sticking with a company that was ready to lay her off? What had happened to her that made her afraid to take a risk?
Could he offer her a job? Would it be enough to keep her close?
More importantly, could he keep his hands off her if she worked for him?
He smiled and shook his head. Probably a bad idea.
It was after eight o’clock when he ran out of chores around the house. He stared at the phone for five more minutes before he picked it up to call her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked after she answered the phone. “Any soreness from Friday?”
“A little, but not bad at all.”
“I was thinking about getting together for coffee. Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”
“Really, John, I don’t think we should.”
He began to pace his living room. “No strings, just a cup of coffee. I got the message. You’re intent on leaving. But I’d like to spend time with you while you’re still here. How about it?”
He could feel her hesitation over the airwaves.
Finally she answered. “I can make time around three. Shall I meet you at the bookstore?”
“Getting away from prying eyes would be better for me. How about Peet’s in Soquel?”
“I’ll see you at three.”
John got to the coffee shop fifteen minutes early, giving him time to choose a fair-trade, dark-roasted espresso and a Pacific Cookie Company sugar cookie. At the last minute, he made it two. He settled himself outside at a metal table in the sun and kept an eye out for Annie.
He spotted her as soon as he sat down and waved at her as she approached the coffee shop, admiring her figure as she sauntered toward him. A bright pink tee-shirt accented her blond hair, fuzzed by ocean humidity and the faint spring breeze. Unfolding his body from the low chair, John pulled out a chair for her. “Thanks for coming. Have a seat. Can I get you something?”
“Medium-sized coffee with milk will do fine.”
John gestured toward the brown paper bag on the table. “I hope you like sugar cookies.”
She looked up at him, a faint smile on her face. “That was nice. Thanks,” she said, pulling out her wallet.
“No, my treat.”
She settled back in her chair and lifted her face to the sun as he went back into the dim coffee shop to get her order. He felt like a teenager on his first date, instead of a thirty-nine-year-old man who had buried a wife and survived a broken engagement. He glanced through the tinted window and saw Annie stretch her arms over her head, forcing the taut tee-shirt fabric over her breasts. Blood pumped more quickly through his veins.
Returning, he placed the coffee in front of her and sat down. “How’s the situation with David?”
“I called the public defender last week. He said since he’s David’s lawyer, he needs to talk with David directly. We made an appointment. I pushed a little harder, though, and he confirmed what I thought. Most likely David will get a fine, community service, and probation.”
“That’s probably as good as it’s going to get. I’m sorry you have to go through this. It must be tough.”
“It is.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes before she asked, “How’s owning a California bookstore coming along? Do you ever want to dump it all and move back to Montana?”
Definitely skittish. She was keeping conversation neutral. He’d follow her lead.
“I miss Montana almost every day, but I’m here for good. The big sky never really gets out of your soul, so I’m sure I’ll go back now and again. Maybe sometime you could come with me.” He waited for her reaction.
She grimaced. “Montana is a long way from New Jersey. Besides, I’m not even sure we should be seeing each other at all. Planning a long trip with you is definitely not on my radar screen.”
He sipped his coffee. Should he push her a little or wait? Silence won out — it worked with nervous animals, maybe it’d work on humans, too.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “That came out harsher than I wanted it to. I guess I’m torn, knowing that the right thing is to go to New Jersey, keep my job, and give my son some new surroundings. But then I think of all I’ll miss here, especially my friends, and … ” She looked up from her cup, her hazel eyes glinting with unshed tears. She took a deep breath. “And an opportunity to get to know you better.”
“What are you so afraid of?” he asked softly.
“Nothing. My life is in control, like I told you. I don’t have to like it, but I’ll do what needs to be done. I always have.”
The defenses were up again. He went back to neutral territory.
“I loved Montana, but I knew it’d be tough to stay. After Jessica died, I saw our lives together everywhere. We’d met at the university and our lives as a couple were there.” He broke off a piece of the cookie and savored the soft sweetness before continuing. “Jessica had been gone a little over a year when I got involved with a friend of hers.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “We were both still hurting and it seemed natural to comfort each other. One thing led to another and we started going out. I didn’t think I’d ever find the love I had with Jessica again, but we learned to care deeply for each other. At least I thought we did. I’d asked her to marry me when a job came through for her in Bozeman at Montana State. Deborah was a biology professor — non-tenured — and it was the perfect chance for her. We figured we could make it through the first year — see how it panned out — and then I could move down there and find a job.”
“And … ”
“And … it didn’t work out. She became involved with someone else and that was the end of that.”
Funny, the betrayal still got to him in ways that Jessica’s death didn’t. He picked up his coffee cup. It was his turn to put up some walls. He looked at her.
She stared at the table, her mouth turned down, and a wrinkle furrowed the spot between her eyebrows. He could fall in love with that wrinkle.
“Oh, John, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” She raised her head. “Why on earth would you want to get involved with me? Especially when I’m planning on moving?”
That was an excellent question. One he didn’t really have an answer for. He sat in silence for a few moments, sipping his coffee. She let him be, drinking her coffee and staring at the traffic in the parking lot.
He put down his coffee. “I don’t really have an answer to that. All I know is that you stir something in me, something I haven’t felt since Jessica died. I never felt this way with Deborah. It seems important to me to give it a chance to blossom.”
She put her hand over his. “I really am leaving, John. I have to.”
Placing his hand on top of hers, he looked into her eyes. “Why? Silicon Valley must be filled with opportunities for you, even in this economy. Take a chance with me, Annie.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know much about the valley. When the economy goes down, there aren’t any jobs anywhere — except maybe contracting jobs. And they don’t give me the medical benefits I need.” She paused. “And what happens if it doe
sn’t work out between us, John? What do I do then?”
He didn’t have an answer to that, either. He knew in his heart of hearts that it would work out. He just had to make her believe that.
She withdrew her hand from his. “Why did you want to own a bookstore?” she asked.
They were back to neutral territory.
“I always wanted to write, but it’s a hard slog. So I worked odd jobs, including working at Fact and Fiction, our local bookstore. I was there so long that they finally made me manager — took pity on me because they could see no one was ever going to publish the drivel I wrote.” He finished off his cookie. “At some point I realized that I wanted to be my own boss. So I started looking for a bookstore to own. This one came up and here I am.”
“I wish you well with it.” She swallowed her last sip of coffee. “Look, John. I wish it were different. I like you, too. But it doesn’t look like it’s going to work out for us, so why don’t we leave it alone?” She glanced at her watch. “I have to pick up David. Thanks for the coffee.” Her voice hitched. “See you.” She walked toward the parking lot. At the corner of the building, she turned and gave him a weak smile and a small wave.
He could swear he saw a tear on her check.
Damn.
• • •
Even the chirpy greeting from the flight attendant couldn’t lift Annie’s mood. Grunting a hello, she staggered down the narrow aisle with her heavy carry-on bag banging her knees in front of her. She jammed the bag in the overhead bin and sidled to her window seat. Strapping her seatbelt around her, she grabbed the water bottle and thick book she’d purchased at the only open airport kiosk. A thin, balding man sat in the aisle seat, gave her a brief smile before stabbing at his Blackberry with a stylus.
The airplane was almost full when a tall gray-haired woman in a soft purple blouse strode through the cabin to stand at the end of their row. Annie groaned inwardly when the woman settled in the middle seat beside her.