Riverbend (15 page)

“With love comes loss. Whether it's today or years from now, eventually we all have to leave one another.”

“It's true.”

The door shifted. “I'm so tired. But sleep doesn't come.”

“Do you want me to make you something? Warm milk, maybe? I could put a shot of whiskey in it.”

“Nothing works. I've tried it all.” There was another long space of quiet. “Now, please, you must go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Okay?”

“All right. Good night then.”

She got up from the floor and went to her room. But she didn't sleep for at least an hour, thinking of Drake and his wanderings. What did he do behind the closed doors of the secret rooms? How could she help him? Perhaps there was nothing to be done? But how she wished there were. Finally, she fell asleep.

Chapter Twelve

THE NEXT AFTERNOON,
she brought Otis out some crawfish macaroni and cheese, one of the current side dishes, and a bottle of water. With the first bite, he closed his eyes, clearly savoring the taste. “This is the best thing I've ever tasted, Miss Annie.”

“I'm glad you like it.” She sat on the steps, sipping on the bottle of water she'd brought out for herself. The afternoon was the hottest of the summer thus far, the temperatures close to 100 Fahrenheit. “You make sure and stay hydrated.”

“Miss Annie, can other people see you or just me?”

She smiled and stood, leaning against the railing. “Everyone can see me.”

“Oh, then he's looking at you, not me.”

“What's that?”

“The man.”

“There was a man?”

“I saw him yesterday. He was in a truck and he watched the backdoor here all afternoon. After you came out to give me food, he left.”

She froze. “What did he look like?”

“I couldn't see. The windows were the dark kind.”

Could it be? Marco?

“Otis, will you tell me if you see his truck again? Just knock on the back door here if you do. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He handed her his empty plate. “He's bad, isn't he?”

“If it's who I think it is, then yes. He wants to hurt me.”

“I'll keep watch for you, Miss Annie.”

“Thanks, Otis.” Without seeing, she stumbled back inside to the kitchen, closing the door behind her and locking it. He was here. It had to be.

After Billy dropped her at Drake's front door, she found him reading in the front room, his feet once again on the coffee table. He stood when she came into the room. “I can tell by your face something happened. What is it?”

“I think he's here.” She told him of Otis's story.

He sank into the couch. “I'd like to dismiss this as a schizophrenic's delusion but I have to agree with you. It must be him.”

“What do we do?”

“I'll call the deputy in the morning. See if we can get some kind of surveillance.”

Fred? Surely Drake knew Fred would serve no good purpose.

Chapter Thirteen

THE NEXT MORNING ANNIE SLEPT
past nine o'clock. She wandered into the kitchen, dressed in her workout clothes, to find Alder and Drake in the kitchen, cooking. Alder grinned at her before wrapping his arms around her neck. “Shoot, Mom, you're awake. We were going to bring you breakfast in bed.”

There was a bowl of whipped eggs near the stove and a frying pan sizzling with butter. Drake was cutting up a cantaloupe and adding it to a dish with fresh blackberries. “Morning,” he said to her. “You get enough sleep?”

She glanced at the clock. “Yes. I'm sorry I slept so late. I should be making breakfast, not you two.” She peered at him. His eyes were bloodshot. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Couple of hours.”

“And what time did you get up, Alder?” She put her hands on the sides of his delicious cheeks.

“I slept until eight, Mom. We did so many things yesterday I guess I was extra tired.”

“So I heard. How's the swimming hole?”

“Mom, it's so badass. Even better than Tommy's. There's this big giant deep pool and you can jump off these tall rocks. It's the best.”

“I'm so glad to hear that, but again, watch your language.”

“Sorry, Mom.” Alder popped several berries in his mouth.

“Maybe we can go tomorrow?”

Alder turned to Drake. “Can we? Would you take us?”

“Don't you have to work tomorrow?” asked Drake.

She sat at the counter, playing with a fork, spinning it around in
a circle. “I've decided to take another day off a week.”

“Really, Mom?” Alder's face was incredulous. “Why?”

“I've just been thinking about how life is short and Billy's perfectly capable of taking over one night a week. It's good for him. And I don't see you enough.”

Alder jumped off his stool and hugged her tight. “I'm so happy.”

She held his face in both her hands. “I'm glad. I didn't know if you still want your old mom around or not.”

“I do, Mom.” He hopped back on his stool. “Drake, my mom never takes time off work. All she does is work.”

“She works hard for you,” said Drake, his eyes skirting to Annie for a second.

Annie flushed. To be seen as you are. Nothing was better.

Drake gave her a cup of coffee and then poured eggs into the frying pan, stirring them with a soft spatula. “Have some fruit, Annie. These will be ready in a moment.”

She sipped her coffee, watching him. He seemed comfortable at the stove. And he was cooking the scrambled eggs on low heat—the best way to make sure they turned out fluffy. “You know what you're doing there.”

“Don't be fooled. Breakfast is all I know how to make.” He scooped egg onto a plate and placed it in front of her. “And Alder thought it would be nice if we cooked for you this morning. I agreed and thus I present mediocre eggs.”

She bit into a piece of cantaloupe. “It was very thoughtful of you both.”

Alder gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Gotta run, Mom. There's a bird's nest I want to check on. Some eggs were in there yesterday and I need to see if they're going to hatch or not. See ya, Drake.”

“See ya, bud.”

She pushed back a loose curl and smiled at him. “Thank you for being nice to my son.”

“Can't resist a kid. Especially him. He's special.”

“Born happy,” she said. “He smiled at five weeks old. I tell everyone that. I don't know why.”

He pointed at her coffee. “You want cream? I can't remember.”

“Yes. Please.”

From the refrigerator, his back towards her, he asked, “Did you sleep last night?” He closed the refrigerator, the cream in his hand, turning in her direction.

“Not really.” She poked at the plate of eggs before taking a bite. “These are good.” She would eat just half. A little fuel for her workout; surely a few eggs cooked in butter wouldn't blow her calorie count for the day.

She looked up to see Drake watching her. “You should eat all of it,” he said.

“Why?”

“Do you have any idea what you look like?”

“What do you mean?”

“It means you're too thin. You don't eat enough to sustain a small child, not to mention those punishing workouts I see you doing.”

He'd seen her working out? “That's not true.” She took another bite of the eggs to prove him wrong. “I eat at the restaurant.”

“Not that it's any of my business, really. Well, obviously, it's absolutely none of my business. But you need to watch it. You'll do no one any good if you don't take care of yourself.”

This coming from him? A self-proclaimed recluse who wandered secret rooms.

“I have it under control,” she said.

“If you say so.” He pointed at her plate. “Prove it.”

“Fine.” With two large bites, she finished the eggs and then glared at him, feeling like the small child he referred to earlier. “Happy now?”

“I'd be happier if you'd have a piece of toast slathered in butter.”

She continued to glare at him.

He laughed, taking her plate to the sink. “Okay, that'll do for now.”

That night, as was their routine, Billy took her home after they closed the restaurant. After they buzzed through the gate, she let herself into the house, waving to Billy as soon as she had the key in the lock. Her eyes went immediately to the couch, wondering if Drake would be there as he was the night before. He was. But there was someone else, too. A young woman.

She had short, curly brown hair and a face shaped like a heart. And Drake's eyes, light blue, like a frozen pond. She'd obviously been crying. Drake was sitting next to her looking helpless and miserable.
He can't touch her
, she thought. And she needed someone to touch her. Those were tears of a breakup if she'd ever seen one.

“Annie,” said Drake, motioning for her to come near. “This is my sister, Bella.”

Bella had deep dimples on each side of her mouth and her hair was cut stylishly. She had moxie, thought Annie. Flare. She dotted under her eyes with a tissue. “Hi, Annie. It's nice to meet you,” attempting what Annie assumed was normally a beautiful smile but at the moment lacked truth. “Drake's told me so much about you already. And I'm already in love with your son.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Annie. “I hope he wasn't bothering you tonight.”

“No, actually. He was a good distraction.” She patted the couch. “Come sit. We have wine.”

Annie looked over at Drake. Was it all right? But he nodded and smiled.

Bella was a tiny person, thin and athletic looking, wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed sinewy muscle. She picked up a glass of wine from the table and took a big swallow. “I'm half in the bag, I'm afraid. You'll have to excuse my drunken behavior.”

“I'll get you a glass from the kitchen,” Drake said to Annie, looking relieved to escape for a moment.

After he left, Bella took a sip of wine and nestled back into the corner of the couch. “I'm sorry you're meeting me like this. But I have a bit of a situation.”

“Oh, that's what Lee and I call it, too. You know, when something's gone all wrong.”

“Who's Lee?”

“My best friend. We run the restaurant together.”

“Right. That's how Drake found you. He told me.”

“I have a bit of a situation of my own, as I'm sure Drake told you.”

“He did. It's just awful what you're going through. I'm so glad Drake can help you.” She lowered her voice. “And between you and me, it's good for him to have you two here. You have no idea how I've worried about him. Talking all this crazy stuff about becoming a recluse like some kind of Howard Hughes disciple. Next thing we know he'll be obsessively washing his hands and opening doors with handkerchiefs.” She laughed but then it turned into a sob as she buried her face in the handkerchief. “I'm so sorry,” she mumbled. “I'm a hot mess.”

Annie scooted closer. She put her arms out, like she might if Alder were hurt. And tiny Bella came into them. “Bad breakup?”

“Yes.” She sobbed into Annie's shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, Annie saw Drake approaching with an empty wine glass. “He's married. And finally I just had it. I ended it and quit my job and came here. I left my apartment and all my stuff. All I could think was just—get to my big brother. He'll take me in.”

“And so I have,” said Drake, pouring Annie a large glass of wine and setting it on the coffee table.

“But I have your room,” said Annie.

“Don't worry. There's another guest room,” said Drake. “Over the gym. My wife insisted on that in case all her family visited at once.” He put his hand to his mouth and retreated backwards towards the windows, turning and staring out into the night.

Annie stared at his back over Bella's soft curls.
Wife?

Bella raised her head and reached for the box of tissues. No one spoke for a moment, the silence interrupted when Bella blew her nose into the tissues. Outside the windows, Annie saw a glimpse of the almost full moon hovering above the oak with the child's swing. This house was made for a family. Had there been one or was it just the hope of one?

Annie stood. “I'm dead on my feet. A hot soak in the tub and this glass of wine is just what I need.”

“Oh, of course it is,” said Bella. “I work on my feet all day long
so I know how you must feel. We'll get to know one another properly in the morning. Drake says you work out in his gym after breakfast? Maybe I could join you?”