A Letter for Annie Page 7

  Annie lowered her head and focused on the waxed floor of the car. Kyle’s words merely added to the confusion she was already feeling about him.

  THE CAFETERIA FARE wasn’t half-bad, Kyle thought, as he spooned up another forkful of lasagna. Annie had already finished half of a barbecued pork sandwich and was starting on her coleslaw. She caught him studying her and said, apologetically, “I was hungrier than I thought.”

  “You’ll be of no use to your aunt if you don’t take care of yourself.”

  “She’s getting worse,” Annie said quietly. “I don’t know how much longer—”

  “Whoa. One day at a time.”

  “I know, but it’s so hard. She’s all I have.”

  Tears flooded her eyes and, setting down her fork, she tried to hide her face behind her paper napkin. He knew Geneva Greer’s condition justified Annie’s concern, but sitting here, not being able to change things, made him feel helpless. He tried to lighten the mood by changing the subject. “Where did you come from when you returned to Eden Bay?”

  “Bisbee, Arizona. I’ve lived there…for a long time.”

  “You have friends there?”

  “A few.”

  “Somebody special?” He cursed himself for caring about her answer.

  “A man?” She shook her head. “No. After Pete, I…” Like a cloud suddenly obscuring the light, a wounded expression came over her face and she stopped.

  He knew they were skirting uncomfortably close to topics she didn’t want to discuss—and which he desperately wanted to know about. “Pete was a pretty special guy.”

  “Could we please not talk about him?”

  “Okay, but if we’re trying to be friends again, we’ll have to sometime.”

  “Not now!” Her shrill answer caused the nurses at the next table to turn and stare at her. Annie seemed to shrink within herself. “Please, Kyle, just leave it.”

  He nodded and then, without another word, finished his dinner.

  “I’m sorry,” Annie finally said, her tone conciliatory. “I know you’re trying to help.”

  “How about I help some more by running you home to get whatever you need. I assume you plan to spend the night here. That way you can leave your car in the parking lot and I’ll bring you back.”

  He was surprised when she didn’t put up an argument. And even more surprised when she grabbed his arm as they walked to his truck, holding on as if to a lifeline. She said nothing on the way to the house. Only when he parked in the driveway did she turn to look at him. Then in a squeaky voice, her eyes wide and beseeching, she spoke, so quietly he had to strain to hear. “I’ve never talked about Pete. Ever. I think maybe—” she lowered her eyes, hesitating “—maybe I could. Just not now. Perhaps one day.”

  He picked up her icy hand and warmed it in his two. “I understand. Whenever you’re ready.”

  Later, after he’d dropped her at the hospital and was driving home, he wondered what sorcerer’s spell she had cast on him. Damn right, he’d wanted for years to talk about Pete and about her callous and ultimately fatal effect on him; but when he was with Annie, those angry thoughts deserted him, and he fell under the enchantment of her fragile beauty and vulnerability. She had gotten to him again. Big-time!

  WIDE-AWAKE, Geneva lay listening to the rhythmic clicks and clacks of the equipment dedicated to keeping her alive. In the darkness, brightened only by a low-wattage lamp at the head of her bed, she could barely make out the IV stand and monitor, looming like robotic sentinels of death. Incredulity and rage flooded through her. She couldn’t be dying now. And most certainly not in the impersonal confines of this hospital. That was not her plan.

  Fumbling in the folds of her blanket, she located the remote control and raised the head of the bed a few notches, hoping to relieve the heaviness sitting on her chest like an anvil. Across the room, she noticed a cramped, pretzel-like body curled into a recliner. Annie. She should’ve known the child would insist on staying with her.

  For over a year, she had known her days were numbered. Dying itself wasn’t the problem. Annie was. The niece she adored was imprisoned by a past Geneva had yet to unravel. For that reason alone, she had to hang on. Getting at the truth would be painful for them both, but it had to be done. If that meant forcing down food, enduring respiratory therapy and conning her way out of the hospital, Geneva would do it.

  As a little girl, Annie had been a ray of sunshine, flitting from flower to butterfly to abalone shell in sheer delight. John had doted on his daughter, and Liz loved having a little girl to dress in bows and ruffles. After her father’s untimely death, Annie, with the intuitiveness of the young, had devoted herself to making her mother’s life easier, happier. At a young age, she’d come home from school and prepared supper. She’d understood that excelling was a way to coax a smile from her mother. Geneva used to worry about the strain such efforts put on the girl. Dance recitals, cheerleading competitions, tennis matches—it didn’t matter. In Liz’s eyes, Annie had to be a star.

  And what had been her reward? Her shallow mother’s grudging approval, tainted by unrealistic expectations. Yet Annie had never stopped trying and somehow, through it all, never stopped being that ray of sunshine. Until…

  Geneva would go to her grave wishing she had been in Eden Bay for Annie’s high school graduation and regretting she had been unable to alter whatever events had scarred Annie so profoundly.

  She glanced again at her great-niece, still sleeping, her head on her forearm. Soon. She would ask Annie soon. Force some answers from her. While she still could.

  ANNIE WOKE to the early-morning bustle of the nurses’ shift change. She straightened up in the chair and stretched her arms above her head, yawning. Then, realizing where she was, she hurried to Geneva’s bedside. Her great-aunt lay with her head elevated, breathing raggedly, her eyes closed. Annie had never been much of a one for prayer, especially to a deity who had failed her before, but in the half-light filtering into the room, she raised her eyes to whatever god might be looking down on them, and whispered, “Please. Not yet.”

  Finally, needing caffeine, she left Geneva. At the courtesy station, she fixed a cup of coffee, thankfully fresh and strong. Reentering Auntie G.’s room, Annie found two nurses hovering over their patient, one of them changing the IV, the other reviewing the chart.

  With a start, Geneva awoke, her eyes frantically scanning the room. “Annie?”

  “I’m here, Auntie G. It’s all right. The nurses are checking on you, that’s all.”

  “Tell them not to bother. I’m going home today.”

  “Now, Ms. Greer,” one of the nurses said, “That’s for Dr. Woodruff to decide.”

  Geneva blew a disgusted raspberry. “Like hell,” Annie thought she heard her mutter.

  When the nurses finished their duties, one of them, a plump, redheaded woman dressed in a purple flowered scrub suit, lingered. “Excuse me,” she said, laying a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “You must be Annie Greer.”

  Annie looked into the nurse’s sympathetic blue eyes. There was something familiar in the lines of the woman’s face. “Yes. Do I know you?”

  “It’s been so long, I don’t know if you’ll remember me. I’m Carolee Huxley. Well, I used to be. Now I’m Carolee Nordstrom.”

  In her mind, Annie flipped the pages of her high school yearbook, and then memory clicked in. “Wow! It’s been a few years since Mrs. Cole’s dance classes.” They’d met in ninth grade when she and Carolee had performed a duet for their recital. The pleasure of recognition faded as soon as Annie realized that in Carolee’s mind, she was probably still not welcome in Eden Bay.

  Carolee nodded toward the bed where Geneva had gone back to sleep. “I’m so sorry we have to reconnect under these circumstances. Rest assured, Ms. Greer will get the best possible care.”

  Was that the nurse’s way of dismissing her ties to Annie? “I appreciate that.”

  Cocking her head, Carolee said, “You’ve been gone from here a numbe
r of years, right?”

  “Since high school graduation,” Annie murmured, hoping Carolee would not recall her abrupt departure.

  “Have you been in touch with any of the gals in our class?”

  More than anything, Annie wanted this conversation to end. “No.”

  “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but maybe you could use someone to talk to.” Her glance took in Geneva. “This is a difficult situation. If you’d let me, I’d like to help. Would you be available to meet me in the cafeteria for a quick lunch, say, around one-thirty?”

  If you’d let me? Surely Carolee wasn’t trying to befriend her. Or maybe she was ignorant of what had happened with Pete. What if she didn’t know? Would she still want to renew their acquaintance when she found out?

  Carolee stepped back. “If you’d rather not—”

  Annie recovered her manners. “No, it’s not that at all.” She hesitated, wondering whether to risk the connection. When she looked at Carolee, the woman’s eyes mirrored both confusion and understanding. “Yes. Thanks. I’ll be there at one-thirty.”

  “Great, see you then. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s back to the Florence Nightingale routine.”

  When Carolee left the room, Annie wandered to the window. A fog bank hung low over the ocean and beaches, but sunshine dappled the buildings and parking lot below. She knew the sun would eventually win, burning off the fog. The metaphor hit close to home. If only the fog in her life could be so easily and naturally dissolved.

  After a few moments, she returned to Auntie G.’s bedside. Pulling up a chair, she sat quietly holding Geneva’s hand.

  “A friend?”

  Annie stood, leaning closer. “Who?”

  “That nurse.”

  “Someone I used to know. That’s all.”

  Auntie G.’s eyes flew open. “No! That’s not all. You need a friend. Never turn your back on such an opportunity.”

  Annie smiled weakly, “I won’t,” she said, even as she wondered whether she could trust the friendship of anyone in Eden Bay.

  Dr. Woodruff made rounds midmorning. After reading the chart and examining Geneva, she beckoned Annie to follow her into the hall. “She’s insisting on going home.”

  “I know.”

  The doctor’s expression reflected her concern. “We’re better able to care for her here. On the other hand, I have to take her wishes into consideration.”

  Annie’s heart thumped in recognition of what the doctor wasn’t saying. “How long does she have?”

  “That’s hard to predict. Cases vary. But even given that window of uncertainty, not long. We can keep her a few days and build up her strength. If she insists on returning home, how would you feel about having twenty-four-hour nursing care when it all becomes too much for you?”

  “Frankly? Relieved. If she wants to die at home, that is my wish, as well. Money isn’t an object.”

  “I can only imagine how hard this is for you. She’s a valiant lady.” The doctor plucked a pen from the pocket of her lab coat and made a notation on the chart. “I’ll send up a social worker to talk with you later this morning.”

  The wheels are in motion, Annie thought, as she watched the doctor walk briskly down the corridor. And she was powerless to prevent the inevitable.

  WALKING OUT of the office toward his truck, preoccupied with thoughts of Geneva Greer, Annie and the day ahead, Kyle was surprised when Pete’s sister Margaret stepped out of her parked SUV. “Got a minute?” She stood stiffly, arms wrapped protectively around her waist.

  Kyle shrugged. “Sure. What’s up?”

  Margaret glanced around the parking lot as if fearful of discovery. “This won’t take long. Could we talk in your truck?”

  He let Bubba out and held the door for her. “Be my guest.” She sat in the passenger seat, hands folded, her fingers working nervously.

  Rounding the back of the vehicle, Kyle wondered what this was about. Margaret, the mother of two children, rarely came to Nemec Construction and even more rarely engaged him in more than perfunctory conversation.

  Once in the truck, he turned to face her, his arm draped over the steering wheel. “Well?”

  She didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I want to know about Annie Greer.”

  The question was loaded. Keeping his tone neutral, Kyle said, “What exactly are you talking about and why me?”

  “You, because you’ve been around her pretty constantly. And what exactly? How dare she come back here and stir up all these memories? It was easy enough for her to prance out of my brother’s life without so much as a fare-thee-well. Never a word, a letter, a phone call. Nothing. She broke Pete’s heart and never looked back. The thought of her being here in Eden Bay makes me sick.”

  Kyle took a deep breath. Margaret’s anger was palpable—and understandable. She was eighteen months older than Pete, and they had always been extremely close. She had been his champion, supporting him in athletics, paving the way for him with teachers and delighting in his brotherly pranks, even when she herself was the target. Pete’s death had devastated all of the Nemecs, but Margaret had had a particularly rough time accepting the reality of it and she’d never forgiven Annie for causing Pete so much pain.

  “She’s in town to care for Geneva Greer.”

  “I know that. But wouldn’t you think since she’s shown up, she’d have the decency to tell us why she blew Pete off and left him heartbroken? Any caring person, anyone, would have had the decency to put him out of his misery and explain to him why she’d left in such a hurry. He’s not here to listen to whatever her story is, but we are. She owes us at least that. And then she needs to leave Eden Bay and never come back.”

  What was there to say? Kyle had nursed those same thoughts. Why had Annie disappeared without any word to the young man she had claimed to love? In some ways, he wished he could lose himself in righteous indignation the way Margaret had, but then Annie’s face swam before him, and he knew their relationship was far beyond a simple solution. “What is it you’re wanting from me, Margaret?”

  She buried her head in her hands. “I don’t know.” Seconds passed. “Maybe I’m hoping that if I just had an explanation, I could move on. But…” Her voice trailed off. When she lifted her head, her face was streaked with tears. “I miss Pete so much.”

  Steeling himself against the ache in his chest, he laid a hand on her shoulder. “So do I. Every day.”

  She turned toward him, her face ravaged. “Then how can you spend time with her?”

  It was a question he’d asked himself. Was there an explanation? Not one that would satisfy the grief-stricken woman sitting beside him. “She’s hurt, too.”

  An incredulous look hardened Margaret’s features. “Give me a break, Kyle. Don’t tell me you’re falling into her trap?”

  Was that what it was? A trap? “Wait and see, Margaret. Right now Annie’s consumed with caring for her great-aunt. Maybe, with time…”

  “Right. And I believe in the Easter bunny, too.” She swiped a hand across her face. “I’m sorry to have burdened you. I was out of line.” She grabbed the door handle.

  He stopped her. “Don’t apologize, please. Grief happens. I know that all too well. But give it more time, okay?”

  As she left the truck, all he heard her say was “Whatever.”

  CAROLEE WAS a few minutes late and breezed into the cafeteria, full of apology. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but we had a last-minute emergency.”

  “Not…”

  “Oh, dear, no. Not your great-aunt. In fact, her friend Frances is with her now.” She turned and eyed the serving line. “What looks good?”

  “The special today is meat loaf. You eat here often. What’s your opinion?”

  “First-class comfort food. Let’s go. I’m starving!”

  The special came with potatoes and gravy and green beans. Back at their table, Annie stared at her plate, not sure if she could eat a bite. What did Carolee know about her? About Pete?

  �
��My kids don’t like meat loaf, so this is a real treat.” Carolee was clearly having no difficulty eating.

  Annie asked about her children, then managed a few bites of the remarkably good meat loaf while Carolee bragged about her three sons and her husband, who was a physical therapist. It was hard to resist Carolee’s amusing descriptions of her family and her hearty laugh. Gradually Annie found herself relaxing, caught up listening to Carolee, who finally paused and said, “Well, enough about me.” She set down her fork and leaned forward. “I’m so glad you’re back, Annie. I’ve thought of you often through the years. A confession. When we were dance partners, I so wanted to be your new best friend.”

  “You did? I think I would’ve loved that. Why weren’t we?”

  “Um, I don’t quite know how to put this. Oh, what the heck. Frankly, I don’t think your mother thought I was quite good enough for you.”

  Annie’s mouth dropped. “Oh, Carolee, I’m so sorry. What made you think that?”

  “My mother invited you to my fifteenth birthday party.”

  “I don’t remember that at all.”

  “For good reason. You weren’t there. I’ve always suspected your mother intercepted the invitation. Anyway, she called and said that you couldn’t come, but didn’t give any reason. And you never said anything about it.”

  “I’m so sorry. I would love to have come.” Annie shoved back her half-eaten plate. “Unfortunately, that sounds like my mother.”

  “Well, that’s in the past. The thing is, I’m really glad we’ve reconnected.”

  Annie tensed. Carolee didn’t know about Pete. She couldn’t. Annie would be as thoughtless as her mother if she let this charade continue. Beneath the table, she wrung her napkin into a coil. “You realize I left Eden Bay right after graduation.”

  “Sure. And broke Pete Nemec’s heart.”