by Gun Brooke
“Yes, I am,” Carolyn agreed. “I know it. You know it.” She placed her hand on her sister’s rounded stomach. “Pamela’s little brother or sister will just have to wait till it’s safe to come out and join us.”
“I’m sure the baby won’t dare argue with Grandma.” Joe grinned, making Annelie and Beth laugh when Carolyn gave him a lethal glare. “Only kidding, Lyn.”
“It’s one thing being a mother, but a granny is something entirely different,” Carolyn huffed, unable to suppress a smile.
“I’m staying here tonight,” Joe said. “Why don’t the two of you take my keys and go to the house? You must be exhausted.”
“Yes, please do,” Beth implored. “We just stocked up the fridge and freezer. I’m sure there’s something easy you can fix. Like frozen pizza, or…what?” She looked back and forth between the two women as Carolyn rolled her eyes and Annelie snorted at her words. “What did I say?”
*
The artificial current in the endless pool slid along her skin like a caress as Carolyn swam forcefully toward no goal. Knowing Beth’s condition was stable, she was relieved to be home in New York.
After they had disposed of the car and their luggage, Carolyn had showered and gone directly to the pool, while Annelie headed for the study to take care of business.
Carolyn felt the tension in her joints recede as she kept up an even pace. She was sure swimming would take care of the burning sensation in the muscles in the back of her neck and between her eyes.
When a pair of long legs appeared, Carolyn pressed the Stop button while treading water against the current.
“Finished your e-mails already?”
“Yes.” Annelie shrugged. “There weren’t that many. I meant to ask you something. Jem e-mailed, and she sounds like she’s ready for a vacation after last week’s craziness. I think she’s pulled all-nighters more than she’ll admit.”
“Well, why don’t we ask her to come stay with us? She’ll have the apartment to herself most of the day since we’ll be at work. The place is big enough.”
Annelie gave a faint smile. “How can you be so perceptive? You always seem to understand.”
Carolyn swam to the ladder and climbed out of the water. Reaching for a towel, she returned the smile. “You’re so incredibly considerate and always want my opinion about these things. Why wouldn’t I do the same? Jem’s a good friend of yours, and I like her. If Jem needs a break…Also, she’s not stupid. She’s figured out the truth about us, hasn’t she?” Carolyn walked over to Annelie, wrapping her arms around her lover.
“Yes.” Annelie nuzzled Carolyn’s damp hair. “Why don’t you take another quick shower and dry your hair? I’ll just give Jem a call.”
“Go ahead. Tell her I said hi.” Carolyn let go of her lover, patting her bottom as she left. Annelie raised a sardonic eyebrow at the gesture but had a humorous twinkle in her eyes.
Carolyn followed Annelie’s suggestion and then climbed into bed, her body feeling heavy and lethargic. She turned on some soft music, pulled the covers up over her naked body, and settled against the pillows, letting the music surround her.
They had left D.C. after breakfast and one last visit with Beth in the hospital. Carolyn agreed to leave only when she was satisfied her sister was better. Explaining to Beth and Joe she was staying with Annelie during the filming, she’d given them the number to her own line, begging them to keep her posted.
Beth had cried when they said goodbye but lit up when Annelie promised her and Joe a tour of the studio. Carolyn smiled to herself at the look on her sister’s face when Annelie had offered to be their personal guide.
“This looks cozy.” The cool alto voice made Carolyn’s heart jump.
“Come to bed,” she suggested, flipping back the covers. “I know it’s only late afternoon, but we’re exhausted. You did most of the driving.”
“Good idea. I’ll be right back.”
Annelie soon returned smelling of her special grapefruit bath gel, her long hair slightly damp.
“I’m too tired to make love,” Carolyn confessed, “but I’d love for you to join me.”
“Dressed like this?” Annelie interrupted, letting her short terry-cloth robe fall to the floor.
Standing there as naked as Eve before the fall, Annelie made Carolyn’s throat constrict. Gently she cleared her throat. “Oh, my.”
Annelie walked over to the bed, crawled under the covers, and pulled Carolyn into her arms. Soft skin against soft skin made Carolyn lose her breath. Too exhausted to think about sex, she let her hands slide slowly along Annelie’s body; merely feeling her was enough.
“I know, in a relationship, you don’t always have to thank each other,” Carolyn murmured. “This isn’t one of those times. You’ve done so much for me, love. And I don’t take any of it for granted.”
Annelie pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “I know.”
“Is Jem coming?”
“Yes. She’s flying in Wednesday morning.”
“Good. Will you meet her?”
“I can’t. I’m in meetings all day. I’ll send a car for her.”
Resting on Annelie’s shoulder, Carolyn closed her eyes. As she pulled the pillow under her cheek to not weigh her lover down, she sighed contentedly. “This is heaven.”
“Mmm.”
Annelie’s soft curves pressed into Carolyn as she pulled her closer, wrapping a slender leg around her. “Is this okay?”
“More than okay. It’s perfect.”
*
Margo looked up from her desk in the heart of the office. “Annelie! Good, you’re back. Did all the work you took care of from home yesterday pay off? When I talked to Carolyn earlier, she said you were up past midnight to fine-tune your presentation. How did the meeting go?”
“Excellent.” Annelie beamed. “We really made progress, Margo. It looks like we have the go-ahead for those shelters. What did Carolyn want?”
“Just to say hello, I think. She’ll call back later.”
“Okay. Everything all right here?” Annelie gestured toward the other offices.
“Running smoothly now we can focus on the important things. Oh, speaking of that, there’s a package for you. From California.”
Annelie had started walking toward her office and now stopped abruptly, her heart speeding up. “California?”
“Yes, from the investigator.”
“I thought I’d received all the documents regarding my father and Trevor White. I’d rather not read anything more about that imposter.” Annelie scowled.
“I know, but here they are anyway, girlie.” Margo handed over a thick parcel. “Seems like an awful lot, just to be documents.”
“I’ll take a look at this in my office. Hold my calls for now, unless it’s personal.”
“Will do.”
Annelie tossed the package down on her empty desk, then placed her hand on it as if trying to gauge its contents. Suddenly filled with anxiety, she felt her mouth grow stale. She took a deep breath before sliding a letter opener along the edge of the package, opening it carefully, and glancing inside.
She didn’t find legal documents or anything resembling what the investigator had previously sent her. Instead, Annelie pulled out two large stacks of small, tattered envelopes.
Breathing hard, she saw her father’s name on them and, turning one over, she recognized her mother’s name as the sender. They were dated between March 1978 and December 1981.
When she investigated the large package more carefully, she pulled out a single piece of paper, which she skimmed, hoping for a clarification. The package was indeed from the investigator, who explained how the police had discovered the letters among Trevor White’s belongings.
With trembling hands, Annelie untied the string and opened the first letter, written only a week after her father left.
Dear Stuart,
First of all, I hope your trip down south went well and you are feeling better. You were so upset when you left a
nd I am grateful Annie was not home to witness it. She adores you and to see her father in your present frame of mind would have been too much for a child like her.
Writing you at a post office box is worrying. How will I be able to get a hold of you in case something happens to either me or Annie? Is there a phone number I can ring? Please let me know.
Annie asks for you every day when she comes home from school. It is difficult to tell her I am not sure when you will be coming home.
Please write soon, Stuart. We miss you and I am certain we can make it work if you would only give me, and Annie, another chance.
Your loving wife,
Anna
The hopeful tone in Anna’s first letter diminished in every letter Annelie read. She had written her husband for more than three years—at first, every week, and then every month. Heartbreaking sentences of how Annelie stopped asking for her father after a while, and how lonely Anna felt while waiting for her husband to contact her. In the last six letters, her tone became resigned and resentful. When he had missed three birthdays and four Christmases, Anna wrote the last letter on New Year’s Eve, 1981.
Stuart,
Annie is ten years old. Her three last birthdays have gone by unnoticed from your end. No gifts, and no Christmas presents…not even a card. If you had seen her sitting by the phone, all dressed up, and ignoring the friends I invited to her party, just waiting, afraid she would miss your call…which of course never came.
You make me so angry and I have to be honest—I hate you for what you have done to her. I don’t care what you have done to me; I’m a grown woman who can take care of myself. But the child…
Here the letter was unreadable, perhaps from her mother’s tears.
…will not write anymore. You have been an invisible member of this family for three years now, but no more. We do not expect to hear from you. If you choose to return to Chicago, know this; you are not welcome here.
Anna
Annelie leaned back in her chair, her eyes full of tears and her stomach a tight knot. Anna had hated her father in the end. Who could blame her? How I wished and hoped he’d return. Every day, for the first year, I expected him to call. When he didn’t, when Mom finally stopped reassuring me, I still clung to the hope he would come. If not that day, then next birthday, next Christmas…
Annelie remembered hoping he’d return and mend their little family. I don’t know why I was so hopeful for so long. He showed me hardly any interest the first seven years of my life. Mom gave me unconditional love, but thinking back, I realize he merely tolerated me at best. And even Mom finally reached her breaking point. Reading the letters had let her see her mother’s more human side, which was a relief.
She jumped when the phone rang, dropping the last letter as she reached for it. “Peterson.”
“Hello, love. How’s your day going?”
The sound of the familiar husky voice made the tears roll down Annelie’s cheeks. “Oh, Carolyn…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing…I received a package in the mail. My mother’s old letters to my father, and I’ve just read some of them.”
“Oh, Annie. I thought she didn’t know where he was.”
“She didn’t. Apparently he gave her a post-office box as an address. As far as I can tell from her letters, he never replied.”
“Damn.”
The curse echoed Annelie’s feelings. “How’re things going today?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.
“Great. We’ve finished the first scenes, and later this week we’ll start rehearsing in the studio.”
“What scene are you starting with?”
“The one where Maddox shows up at Erica’s place, demanding to know why her partner’s acting so strange.”
“That’s the scene leading up to their rendezvous at the office. Are you nervous about acting it out with Helen?”
“Not really. I think it’s good we’re doing those scenes first. Strangely, Helen and I are becoming friends. I’m afraid we’d get giggly about it if we become too chummy, no matter how seasoned we are. We need to keep the tension as long as possible.”
“Maybe you’re right. How does Helen feel?”
“She actually told me of her one, quite innocent, encounter with another woman. It was ages ago and never led to anything, but she thought she’d tap into it when we do the love scenes. I didn’t tell her, but I think she guesses I have plenty to tap into.”
Annelie had to laugh. “You’re bad!”
“No, I’m good at being bad, you mean.” There was a smile in Carolyn’s voice. “I have to go, love. Are you all right about the letters?”
“I am now. Listen, I’ll bring them home tonight. Will you read them over with me? I need to talk about some of the things in them. Or perhaps we should wait, since Jem’ll be there.”
“We can read them in bed before we go to sleep. No reason to wait and have them weighing on your mind.”
Annelie gave a relieved sigh. “Sounds like a great idea. It’s a date, then.”
As she hung up, Annelie felt the butterflies leave her stomach, at least for the time being.
Her thoughts shifted to Carolyn. She sounds a little stressed, but that’s normal at the beginning of a new job. Thank goodness Carolyn’s not too worried about doing the love scenes. What if I’d become jealous because she’s going to be almost naked with another woman in a couple of scenes? Now I know how Carolyn and Helen plan to approach the scenes, I certainly don’t have anything to worry about there.
Shaking her head, Annelie checked her watch and realized Jem must have arrived at the apartment. She dialed her home number.
“Peterson residence.”
“Peterson herself here. How was your flight?”
“Short and turbulent. I tried to work on the flight, but it got so bad, I think I made permanent indentations in my laptop. It was all I had to hold on to.”
“You were working on the plane, Jem? Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?”
“A something-in-between, I’m afraid. I just received two new manuscripts, and they need my opinion before the week’s over. One’s really promising and the other one…well, let’s just say I can’t get a grip on it.”
“Intriguing either way. If you need another opinion, just let me know.”
“Sure. By the way, when will you be home? I’m cooking.”
Annelie grinned. Jem’s cooking skills were one of her best-kept secrets. “Sounds wonderful. I’ll be home around six—Carolyn, soon after.”
“Good, then I’ll know what to aim for. I’ll run down to a grocery store I passed about a block away. It looked promising.”
“Marco’s? They have everything you could possibly need. Especially their seafood section.”
“Is that a request?”
“Well, you know I love any kind of seafood.”
“How about gratineed lobster with a salad?”
“Excellent! See you around six, then?”
“I’ll be the one wearing the apron.”
Hanging up, Annelie tried to envision her chief editor in an apron. Jem intimidated a lot of people, since she didn’t tolerate fools and made no bones about it. Perhaps if they saw her wearing an apron and a chef’s hat, they’d think differently.
Her mood suddenly brighter after her two phone calls, Annelie put her mother’s letters back into the package. She’d get through things, one at a time.
*
Nothing remained of the meal. Carolyn looked down at her rounded stomach, wondering if she’d be able to fit into her clothes at work. They were going to shoot the first scene a day earlier than expected.
“Jem, you’re going to cause me all kinds of trouble. Yesterday lobsters, and today this incredible casserole. I’ll pop the buttons in all of my clothes,” she groaned.
“What can I say? I love to cook. I don’t have time when I’m home because I work so much and, frankly, cooking for one isn’t very inspiring.” Jem shrugged.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“Liked it?” Annelie moaned, unbuttoning her jeans. “I don’t think that’s the right word.”
Looking at the empty plates, Jem grinned. “I take that as a compliment.”
“We’ve got to have the Davidsons and Helen over one night,” Annelie said. “We can’t keep Jem’s skills a secret like this. They’ll never forgive us.”
“I like Helen St. Cyr,” Jem said. “She seemed really down-to-earth and nice when we talked briefly at the Orlando convention.”
“She is,” Carolyn agreed. “We get along better all the time, and I think she and Annelie really hit it off flying back from L.A.”
“She has a great sense of humor.” Annelie shared the story about Helen’s fuck-me boots.
Jem laughed out loud, leaning back into her chair. “Oh, God, the things people want to know. I’m still laughing at the smooth-or-crunchy-peanut-butter question someone asked you, Carolyn.”
“In L.A., it was about my belly button,” Carolyn said. “It’s pretty innocent, though.”
“We ought to invite some people from the set.” Annelie ran a finger over her lips. “Perhaps Regina and Gregory.”
“And Margo.”
“Yes, that’d be a lot of fun,” Annelie said. “We can make it a casual get-together, nothing fancy. Except the food, of course. I promise to be your kitchen slave, Jem.”
“Good. I hate to wash dishes.”
“I’ll just call for maid service.”
As they cleared the table and filled the dishwasher, Carolyn moved with care, since flashes of light sparkled behind her eyelids. The food hadn’t stopped her escalating headache. Not wanting to worry the others, she turned to Annelie with a casual smile. “Think it’s time for my swim, love. I’ll join you in the living room later.”
Annelie frowned. “You look pale. Do you have a headache?”