Love Hurts (7 page)

Anna tried to stay calm, but she could feel the blood rising in her face. “You say you’re not a baby, but look at you. You’re totally overreacting.”

“No, no, no! I’m not. You’re overreacting. You’re always trying to make me do what you want and I’m sick of it. Get out of my life. I hate you!”

Anna rocked back as though Jilly’s words were physical blows. “How can you say that to me? I’ve given up my life to take care of you!”

Jilly stopped dead, her blue eyes wide in shock, and within seconds they filled up with tears again. “You can have your life back.” She slammed the door, and the vibrations in the foundation reverberated through Anna’s body.
 

Anna reached for the knob, but found it locked. The other side of the door held nothing but silence. Already regretting her careless words, Anna slid down the wall opposite the door and stared at it as though she could see through to her sister on the other side. Mamma had gone out after spending most of the day in her studio. Anna’s shoulders drooped. Jilly’s emotional outbursts seemed to come like a flash flood lately. No warning, no explanation. Their house was like a supercharged force field with Anna the only conduit.
 

They were late for school, but Anna didn’t care. Life had lately become too much of an effort. She would be happy to graduate that year so she could get out of the House of Horrors, but she felt constant guilt at the thought of leaving her sister alone with Mamma. She could take Jilly with her, but Mamma would never agree to that, although Anna didn’t know why. Without kids in the house, she could really give herself over to her painting. She would protest that she loved her kids, but Anna knew better. Anna feared Jilly’s outbursts were because she was angry about Anna graduating, which meant she would soon be leaving. As much as Anna loved Jilly, she admitted to herself that going away would be a relief. Emotion exhausted her.

“Anna?” Jilly called, but she sounded strange and far away.

“Oh, God!” Anna jumped up in a shot and flew through the locked door as if it were paper, the doorjamb breaking and the lock forced open. Anna stopped in shock at Jilly sprawled across her bed, blood flowing freely down her thin, white arms and soaking into the pink bed cover. “Jilly, what did you do?” Anna moaned as she gathered her sister close and pressed the blanket against her sliced wrists. “Oh, Jilly.”

Anna grabbed the phone from Jilly’s night table and dialed 911 while trying with her other hand to stanch the blood flow. She told them to hurry while she rocked her sister back and forth.

“Why did you do this to yourself? A fight isn’t worth hurting yourself over.”

“I’m sorry. I’m stupid.”

“No!” Anna gripped Jilly tighter in her arms. “No, you’re not stupid.”

“I just wanted it to stop,” Jilly mumbled into Anna’s chest. “It’s too much sometimes. Don’t you know what I mean?”

“Yes, honey, I do know, but this is no way to make it stop.”

“I know. I just wanted it all to stop.”

She knew Jilly cut herself sometimes. They were working on that, but she never thought Jilly would actually try to kill herself.

A siren came up the block and Anna quickly looked at Jilly’s arms. The blood seemed to be clotting a little, but it still flowed. Anna tucked Jilly’s arms closer to her, with the blanket wrapped around them, kissed Jilly’s forehead and went to meet the paramedics.

“She’s up here.” Anna led them up the stairs, doing everything to keep herself from falling to pieces. “She cut her wrists.” As soon as she said that, she felt their stares fall on her like ten-pound weights.

Chapter 7

The café was crowded, noisy with the transient flow of tourists making their way to Vancouver. Hope was the obvious stop for lunch and filling up the gas tank. It swelled several hundred daily in the summertime in a town that had been built for only a few thousand. Anna figured most of the people who lived in Hope, in the shadow of the Cascade Mountains, were either nature lovers or hiding from something. Many teens grew up and left as soon as they were emancipated.

Rob had been one of them, although he came back as soon as he realized he’d never be as big a fish in Vancouver as he could be in Hope. His parents practically ran the town. Rob’s father was the mayor, but everyone knew who really ran things. The mayor’s wife. Rob was the most successful real estate agent in town due to his mother paving the way for her only son. Few people liked the Gallos, but everyone pretended they did.

Anna sat at her favorite table in the back corner. From that vantage point, she could observe the room unnoticed. Mamma had often called her a ghost, saying she liked to hover around and watch everyone without being seen. It wasn’t until university that she realized people-watching was a common trait among writers. She could learn about people, psychology, in order to accurately portray them in fiction. Except Anna had done much research, but hadn’t yet put pen to paper outside of her work.

Mel had agreed to meet her for coffee, but Anna wondered if she’d show up. She and Jilly had effectively ruined Mel’s highly anticipated event. Anna hoped her friend would be able to forgive them. She hadn’t called Mel until a few days had passed, hoping she would be less upset.

Mel opened the door of the Blue Moose Café and looked around. She found Anna and gave her a quick smile. It faded as soon as it appeared. Normally, not even the worst situation could cause Mel to lose her positive attitude. The social embarrassment of Jilly breaking down in front of the painting had been enough to cause even Mel to lose her smile for a while.

Anna stood as Mel approached. They hugged and then settled at the table, both avoiding the other’s gaze.

“I got you a cappuccino.”

“Thanks.” Mel pulled the cup toward her and wrapped her long fingers around it. She breathed in the aroma and smiled, this time more sincere. “How you doing?”

Anna had never met anyone who could cut through her defenses with just a look. No one besides her ex-boyfriend, Chris. For some reason she couldn’t stop thinking about him today. Anna forced the memories away. “I’m okay, I guess. Hanging on.”

“I hate to say it, hate to pry, but what the hell happened?”

“It was the painting,” Anna said, hard pressed to even say the words aloud.

“I know that. But why did Jilly lose it like that? Ms. di Rossi’s painting is beautiful.” Mel’s voice took on a hush when she spoke Mamma’s name.

Anna gripped her coffee cup so hard her knuckles whitened. She stared into the caramel depths as though searching for the words she couldn’t find in her mind. “Catarina di Rossi is our mother.” The words were out before she could take them back.

Mel gasped and reared back, speechless for a few seconds. She recovered her senses and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this before? I’ve mentioned her plenty of times.” She looked hurt.

“I’ve never told you because Jilly and I made a pact never to mention her name again once we left Toronto. I’ve never spoken of her until today.”

Mel stared at her, waiting.

Anna paused and sipped her now lukewarm coffee. She was reminded of how Mamma loved her coffee. She still drank an espresso first thing in the morning like a shot, as they did in Italy. Anna always wondered how she could do that and not scald her throat. She used to think Italians had to have an esophagus of leather.

“She’s not the woman you think she is.”

“Who ever is?” Mel responded, recovering her senses. “Thanks for telling me. Seeing Jilly’s reaction to the painting tells most of the story without me having to ask. She obviously hurt you both deeply. I’m sorry.”

“She did, and she didn’t. She loved us, even though Jilly doesn’t think so. She just didn’t know how to share herself, and two little girls who adore their mamma need more than a cold image of a mother to flourish.”

“Oh, Anna.” Mel reached out and grasped Anna’s hand, squeezing hard. “I’m sorry she was so cruel.”

“That’s the thing. She wasn’t really cruel, like in the Mommy Dearest way you hear about. Her cruelest act was to keep herself hidden, unavailable. She is the coldest woman I’ve ever met. There were a lot of things she did to herself that damaged us, too, but the hardest thing was that I couldn’t reach her and yet she gave herself so easily to others. If someone wanted something from her, she gave it freely. But, to Jilly and me, the ones who most had a claim on her, she held everything back.”

Mel’s eyes swam in a lake of green.

“I wonder if that’s why her paintings are so emotional,” Mel mused, the curator in her coming out. “She couldn’t show her emotions to the closest people in her life, so she put them on canvas.” Mel paused, the words sitting on her lips. Anna cut her off.

“Before you ask, no, I don’t know. I don’t know why she paints that little child’s face into each painting. Honestly, Mel, I’m not sure if she even knows why.”

Mel slumped back in her chair. It would be the coup of the century if Mel were the one to solve the mystery of the child in the painting. It had intrigued the art world for thirty years, but Catarina di Rossi would never speak of the child. There had been much speculation about her own children, but they instinctively knew it went deeper than that. It was the tiny child, hidden in each painting, in the grass, in a tree, one never knew where it would appear, that made her famous. Her landscapes were stunning, emotional, even angry at times, but it was the child that pulled the eye, made the viewer wonder. It was a mystery, and who didn’t love to solve a mystery?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it personal,” Mel said. “I want to hear your story, not ask questions you’re unable to answer.”

Anna patted her friend’s hand. “I understand. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth so long ago. But truth has a way of getting buried under layers of time. The longer you say nothing, the harder it is to dig it up and reveal it.”

Mel didn’t say anything. She just patted Anna’s hand and gave her such a look of compassion that tears sprang to Anna’s eyes. She swiped them away, embarrassed. She hated being emotional in public.

They left the table and walked outside.

“I’m going to leave Rob.”

Mel stopped dead and gaped, a perfect imitation of her earlier response. “Not fair, Anna. You’re not allowed to shock me twice in one conversation.”

“Sorry,” Anna mumbled. “I guess I felt if I didn’t just shoot it out, I wouldn’t say it at all.” She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and glanced around to be sure they were alone.

“Why now?” Mel asked. “Not that I don’t agree that you should leave him, but why now? It’s been what, nearly ten years?”

“Nine years, ten months, twelve days.” Anna shuddered. It sounded like a prison term.

“Wow.” Mel rocked back on her heels and studied Anna like she was a stranger. “That’s interesting.”

“What?”

“It’s just interesting how you say it. My thought is that you should have left him a long time ago. Maybe you shouldn’t even have married him.”

“Maybe I should have married Chris like he wanted me to,” Anna mumbled.

“Chris?” Mel asked. “Do tell.”

Anna dropped her gaze as the door to the cafe opened and Carrie Stewart, the mayor’s wife, walked out.

“Hi Anna, hi Mel,” Carrie said.

“Hi Carrie,” Mel and Anna said together.

There was a pause, but Anna kept her head lowered. She didn’t want to see the speculative gleam in Carrie’s eyes. She felt it was her duty to know everyone’s business. For the sake of keeping things in order, of course. Anna watched Carrie’s suede pumps step out of her range of vision before she looked up. “Can we go for a walk?”

Mel took her arm and led her across Wallace Street to the city park. They stepped onto the path and Mel asked, “You need to tell me about this Chris. And what brought this on, your decision to tell me the truth?”

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“The red dress.”

Chapter 8

Anna stopped at the Blue Moose Café for her morning coffee and then walked down Wallace St. to her office at the
Hope Standard
. Several co-workers were gathered around Paul in the front office, whispering. Her heart sank and a cold sweat broke out across her back. The whole town would be talking about the gala for a long time to come. At least it wouldn’t be in the newspaper. Cliff would never allow that.

Paul turned with a guilty smile. “Hey, good morning, Anna.”
 

“Morning Paul, Carla, Monica,” Anna said and lifted her coffee cup in a half-hearted greeting. Whenever she was around those two women, she could feel her energy run out and puddle on the floor around her. They spent more time gossiping and causing problems than they did actually working. They were probably the cause of half of the domestic issues in town.

When Anna reached her cubicle, she dropped her purse, set the coffee on the desk and reached for the power button on her iMac. She had to finish editing the story due that morning before the weekly meeting where Cliff handed out the assignments. Anna sat in her chair and leaned back. The new woman who usually sat across from her hadn’t come in yet. Until the gossip twins came in from the front, she’d have the office to herself. She hoped the quiet would help her concentrate.