“How do you know so much about panic?” she asked.
“An old roommate in college had full blown panic attacks at the end of each semester during exams,” he said.
“I don’t think it’s going to happen again,” Anna Marie said. “I think it was just an odd—I don’t know. I just don’t think it will happen again.”
“I don’t think it will either,” he smiled. “You look exhausted.”
She quietly nodded in agreement. She stepped to the side and allowed him to fix a bed on the sofa. She didn’t help. She watched him as if she were memorizing every move he made. After he laid out the bed, he went to his room and came out with a neatly folded t-shirt. He laid it on the pillow at the top of the couch. He turned to her.
“All set?”
She smiled at him with appreciation. He started toward the bedroom.
“Come on Motley, you are sleeping with me. Let your girlfriend get some rest! Good night, Anna Marie.”
Motley obediently followed. Clifford closed the bedroom door behind them. She headed to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. When she heard Bill call from outside the door she leaped and water splashed across the sink. “Oh, you scared me,” she said through the door.
“Sorry, I guess I should have told you, there are clean towels in the cabinet behind you; if you want to take a shower.”
“Thank you,” she called back. He waited.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
She listened to the patter of Motley’s feet as he followed Bill back to the bedroom and the door closed behind them.
After a long shower, she slipped into the t-shirt and climbed onto the sofa. She clicked off the lamp on the end table.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything,” Bill called again from the other room.
Just about twenty years of my life back, she thought to herself. “I’m good,” she said, “thank you!”
Her mind began to wander as she stared at the shadows on the ceiling and listened to the rain fall. What would her life have been like if she’d chosen Bill all those years ago? Bill was kind, gentle, generous and patient. She thought about her attraction to him. There had been several times over the years when she’d caught herself staring at his lips and wondering what it would be like to kiss him. She would shame her thoughts and quickly dismiss the fantasy before her mind could continue to explore her desire. Her ability to resist acting on her temptations resonated as a form of pride, but she could not deny that the attraction had always been present.
She replayed the memory of him making her bed only a few moments before. She’d wanted to reach out to him each time he passed by. Yet, she stood frozen. Something was making her cling to the idea that Bill was forbidden. Why? Her husband had deceived her. What was there to cling to? Why should she wait? Her husband was a liar and he was dead. Bill was not forbidden. Bill was there. Bill had always been there. She slipped out of the covers and found herself standing at his door. She took a deep breath and slowly turned the handle.
“Anna?” Bill said. She stood quietly in the doorframe. “Oh, did you come for Motley? Motley, your girlfriend is looking for you.”
“No, I didn’t come for Motley,” she replied as she slid into the bed next to him. “I came to be held. Just held, that is all.”
“Anna,” he whispered as he reached for her in the dark. She sat up on one arm and leaned into his silhouette. He caressed her neck and slowly lifted his fingers under her chin. He touched the bandage that was still there. She closed her eyes so that she could take in the entirety of his touch. He stroked her hair and gently guided her toward him. She moved her face to his. Their lips met, and a crack of thunder that was every bit as powerful as the one that sent her flying out of the closet made her leap forward. She knocked her forehead into his. The sound of their skulls crashing was followed by Motley’s bark. Anna Marie leaped out of the bed and ran into the living room. Lightening flashed all around her and thunder continued to rumble behind it.
A few moments later Bill called from the bedroom, “Anna Marie, please come back!”
She was already on the couch and under the covers. “No, no. I’m good. I’ll be out here tonight. I’m fine. I’m good. I’m sorry. Is your head okay?”
“It’s okay,” he answered through the thunder. “How is your head?”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Motley?” Bill called.
“He’s out here,” Anna Marie said.
“Come here Motley! Come on Boy!” he commanded.
Motley had leaped up next to her. He dug his head into her chest when Bill called for him.
“I think Motley is going to stay with me,” she said as she stroked the top of his head.
“Okay,” Bill answered. He let it get quiet again before he said, “Anna Marie?”
“Yes?”
“You can’t let Kevin run your life from the other side of the grave. He did enough of that while he was here.”
Anna Marie didn’t say anything. She watched the lightening change the shadows on the ceiling.
“Did you hear me?” he asked.
“I did,” was all she said.
“Do you want to try again?”
Her mind had taken her away from the moment. She was thinking of Kevin’s little girl. Where was she? Who was comforting her? Was she all alone in a stranger’s house and scared by the storm? Was she lying alone in bed and crying?
“Anna?” he called again.
“No, not tonight,” she answered. “Thank you.”
“Thank you?” Bill muttered quietly to himself. “Okay, I’ll be here if you change your mind.” He waited for her to say something. She didn’t. He rolled over.
Anna Marie stared into the darkness. She felt the tears that rolled down her cheeks begin to creep into the bandage under her chin. Motley snuggled his head closer to her. Why couldn’t it be easier? Why couldn’t she let go? What was she was hanging on to? The lightening stopped flashing, but the soothing sound of the rain tapping on the roof continued.
12
Liz felt her grandmother shuffling about the house all morning, but she wasn’t ready to get up. She woke and drifted back to sleep several times. When she finally rolled off the couch, she made her way to the kitchen door and quietly watched her grandmother. “Gammy?” she said suddenly.
Her grandmother leaped, “Lord, you scared the bejesus out of me!”
“Sorry,” Liz said. “What are you baking?”
“I made a couple cherry pies. Elsie is going to drop me by the hospital this afternoon, and I thought you might like one for breakfast.”
“Okay, first of all it isn’t even ten O’clock. You’ve made two cherry pies, you’ve dressed, set your hair, put on makeup, and you’re ready to go out the door. Gammy who does that?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I’m worried about Clifford. He is up there at that hospital with the nurses poking at him. Nobody is making sure he is comfortable. These days when you are in the hospital, you need someone in the room with you. He doesn’t have anybody to keep an eye on him. That is something I can do. Elsie is going to drop me off. Would you mind picking me up on your way home from work?”
“Of course not, but Gammy?” Liz rubbed her eyes. “What is with the pies?” She wrapped her hands around both sides of her face as she continued in exasperation. “I thought we talked about that. I mean, you dumped out the cake and made pies?”
“I made clean pies. When I pulled out the blueberries this morning they were spoiled. I guess they were too ripe when I bought them. We should have eaten them last week. I was going to make you cherry pancakes, but I figured a cherry pie was practically the same thing.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Sure it is. It has almost the exact same ingredients!”
“Oh my lord,” Liz said under her breath as her grandmother pulled a pie out of the oven.
“I read all about clean
eating on the net this morning. You should be proud of me. I even looked at it on my cell phone chrome thing. It said that cherries are a super food. That’s what gave me the idea to make pie. I still had all of those fresh cherries that I pitted in the freezer.” She reached her fingers into a small bowl of sugar she’d set aside to dust the top of the crust. Liz watched in amazement.
“I thought it would be nice to take some cherry pie to Clifford so he could have something clean to share with the nurses. The second one is about to come out of the oven. I’m leaving it for you. There is some nice ice cream in the fridge if you want a little scoop with it.”
“Ice cream for breakfast?”
“Oh hush, it’s no different than having a glass of milk. It is the exact same thing only it’s frozen.”
Liz threw her hand to her forehead. “Oh, grandma! Pie and ice cream for breakfast?”
“Liz, you look at any cereal box, and you tell me if cereal is any different than a bunch of dried up broken pieces of pie crust. You pour milk on top and it is no different than a slice of pie and scoop of ice cream. It’s all the same thing it just looks different. When you add fresh cherries it makes it a lot healthier! This pie has extra nutrients in it—a clean ingredient! You won’t find that in box of cereal, will you?”
“But—” Liz tried to interrupt.
Her grandmother rushed over her, “Cherries are anti-inflammatories too. That is why those healthy people are calling them super foods. I did my research!” Mary grabbed her pie carrier and headed for the door.
Liz followed her out of the kitchen. “But—you are forgetting about the sugar! There is a ton a sugar in pie and ice cream!”
Mary opened the door and turned around. She answered in a deep and sincere voice, “Oh, Baby Girl, I love sugar! Sugar is my favorite! Well, maybe next to butter!”
“Gammy, you are scaring me. I’m going to be visiting you in the hospital before you know it.”
“Oh, no! Not me, there is one thing I know about the women on my side of the family. Our blood runs thin, and sugar is what keeps us running. Look at me! I have more energy than a jack rabbit on a strawberry farm! Hand me my purse, will you, Sugar Butt.”
“—and, she calls me, ‘Sugar Butt!’” Liz said, “Lord, I hope I take after the women on your side!” She handed her grandmother the purse.
They both watched Elsie pull into the driveway and nearly hit the garage door before she stopped.
“Elsie! Stop!” Mary hollered as she started down the steps. “Mercy,” she called back to Liz. “I don’t know how that woman drives without me in the car to help her navigate.”
Liz opened the car door and peeked inside. “Hello, Elsie!” she said as her grandmother crawled into the front seat.
“Elizabeth! I can’t wait to see you in the Scary Little Plant Shop! I heard the rehearsals are going well! I’m going to try to peek in when I’m up there pulling costumes later today.”
Liz was the educational director at the Star Bright Theatre. She was also a favorite performer in the professional equity shows they produced. Elsie and her grandmother were working at the theatre as volunteers. Elsie had been called to work on the costumes. This was a contention with Mary because she’d never been invited to work in the costume shop. Elsie insisted that all she needed to do was ask, but Mary didn’t want to ask. She felt the need to be invited; the same as Elsie had.
“I’m sorry to break up all the warm fuzziness,” Mary interrupted, “but I have a pie to deliver, and Liz has one she needs to pull out of the oven before it burns!”
Liz gave her grandmother a hug and leaned in again to Elsie, “Maybe I will see you this afternoon! Drive careful!”
Her grandmother rolled down the window, “You better hurry and get that pie out of the oven!”
Liz turned toward the house as she listened to her grandmother direct Elsie out of the driveway. She shut the door behind her. She was thinking about how awesome her day was going to be. It would start with a piece of her grandmother’s hot cherry pie and a scoop of ice cream.
13
Bill slowly cracked open the front door and whispered to Motley, “Come here, boy. Go potty!”
“It’s okay, Bill. I’m up,” Anna Marie said.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning,” she answered pulling the covers off her legs.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“I guess that was a dumb question.”
“You think?” she teased.
“I don’t know why I asked,” he said. “If I had an IV, I could just hook it right up and pump the caffeine into your arm.”
“That would do the trick. I’m afraid it doesn’t sound very fun though.”
“Did you sleep alright?” he asked as he let Motley back in.
“I did. Well, that is until I had my usual nightmare.”
“Nightmare?” Bill counted scoops of coffee and listened at the same time.
“Yes, I’ve been dreaming the same thing almost every night. It is about little Anna Marie.”
“It’s the same dream each night?”
“Pretty much. It always ends the same.”
“That is strange. What is it about?” he asked as he filled the percolator.
“It’s not very a realistic dream. I’m somehow with her, but I am not really there. I’m only watching her. She is playing with a doll in a brightly lit room.” She folded the blanket as she continued. “A large ominous hand reaches into the room. It is just someone’s hand. That is all I see. It is reaching for her. She doesn’t notice it because she is playing with her doll. I scream and try to warn her. No sound will come from my mouth. Just before the hand reaches her, I finally let out a scream. The hand turns and quickly grabs at my neck. I wake up choking and breathing hard. I have to get to her, Bill. It’s killing me, literally.” Anna Marie placed the folded blanket on the couch and walked toward the bathroom.
Bill couldn’t help but stare at her legs and anything else his eye could catch with her movement under the t-shirt. She tugged awkwardly on the bottom of the shirt and picked up her jeans from the side table.
“Maybe you should get that cash in the bank and take a statement over to C. C. and Sons today.”
“I will,” she assured him.
“After you get done with that, why don’t you help me with my re-occurring nightmare? You could drop by the theatre and teach Diane a thing or two about how to do your old job.”
“Oh Bill, give the poor woman a chance.”
“A chance? She has been there for months now. Do you know how many times she changed her mind on the set design for The Scary Plant Shop?”
“How many?” Anna Marie asked.
“I don’t know, too many. It’s scary! No pun intended! The woman is seriously worrying me. The cast doesn’t trust her either. She is too wishy washy in her direction!”
“It's never easy to be the new girl, you need to be more supportive, Bill!”
“No, I think it's more about what she needs. She needs to get her act together, literally! Seriously, how about you drop me off today. That way you'll have an excuse to pick me up. When you finish with the lawyer this afternoon, drop in early and take a look at the rehearsal. You will see what I mean.”
“I can’t do that to the poor woman.”
Bill handed Anna Marie a cup of coffee. “She’s not the ‘poor woman’ you think she is; in fact, I think she is mean! She’s not exactly a favorite with the cast and crew either. She is tough in rehearsals.”
“Oh, and I wasn’t?” Anna Marie laughed.
“Yes, okay. You were tough, but she is rough! You push the actors with inspiration, love and guidance. You have an abundance of patience and are sincere in your quest for perfection.”
“You are laying it on a little thick this morning,” she teased.
“I’m just being honest.”
“She can’t be that bad,” Anna Marie said.
“
She is. She has no patience. She says all the wrong things. She barks out orders and throws her weight around. She’s lost in the pressure of looking good and making a strong first impression for the board. It’s all about her.”
“That’s not good.”
“Everyone misses you. Stop by today.”
“Bill, I can’t go in there. It wouldn’t be fair to her. I’m sure she’s already feeling terribly intimidated. Give her time. Besides, you saw how I reacted at the hospital. I’m not ready to go in there.”
“You went in there to find me,” he said referring to the day she had returned from Florida and surprised him by hiding in the back of the theatre.
“I did,” she smiled, “but I avoided the lobby.”
“You don’t have to go through the lobby. You can sneak in from the back. Just like you did that day.”
“I’m not going in there, Bill!”
“That was the best day of my life,” he paused. “I am glad you came back, Anna.”
“Me too,” she said. She took in his smile, but quickly changed the subject. “Diane needs to be empowered. You need to pass the torch to her. Give her time.”
“I am sick of giving time. That is all I do. I walk around half dead inside while I am waiting for women and their freaking time.”
“Pardon me?” Anna Marie’s tone was aggressive.
“I didn’t’ mean it like that,” he mumbled with regret.
“Yes, you did.”
“Yes. I did,” he admitted. “This whole thing has been hard for me too.” She was quiet and he didn’t try to rescue the moment.
“Fair enough,” she finally said.
“Fair enough? What does that mean?” he asked.
“It means, I understand. It means that I’m sorry. I’ve been protecting my own feelings with no regard to yours. I came back. I’m the one who asked you to expose your feelings and explore your passion. Now, I am rejecting you. You are hurt and confused. I don’t blame you. I don’t expect you to accept my crazy behavior.”
The False Exit Page 5