You Don't Know Me (17 page)

“Did you eat your snack before volleyball? I packed an extra apple in your lunch.” Now she was just trying too hard.

Colleen leaned back, closed her eyes. “I’m fine, Mom.”

Any second now, Colleen would pull out her iPod and tune her mother out. Annalise put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb, searching for the right words. “I thought we could grab a cup of coffee and talk.”

Beside her, Colleen tensed, and Annalise could nearly read her daughter’s thought:
Coffee in public, where no one can make a scene.

“Whatever you want to say, say it here. Besides, Coach doesn’t want us to have any coffee this week.”

Annalise suspected a lie there but didn’t go after it. She took a calming breath as she drove toward the library. They’d wait for Henry’s reading group to get out. Colleen was right. No need to unravel their family business in front of the town. Again.

She pulled into a parking space and took another long breath. If God was listening at all to her, she could sure use some wisdom. “I want to trust you, Colleen. What am I supposed to think when I find Tucker in your room at 2 a.m.?”

Colleen bolted upright. “See, you’re always so judgy! We weren’t doing anything.
Nothing.
”

Yep, that had been building for at least a day, hadn’t it?

Annalise tried to keep her voice quiet. But she couldn’t help it. “Of
course
. I should have noticed the Scrabble board out. And I suppose he was looking for a fallen piece under the bed?”

“Funny, Mom. He came to talk. Just
talk
.”

“Talk about what?”

“Well, if you must know . . . he wanted to go to church with us.” Colleen raised her eyebrow, a dare.

Oh, please. “So you were just doing a little evangelism there, huh?”

Colleen ground her jaw. “It’s the truth whether you want to believe it or not. Tuck is a nice guy and he only wants you guys to like him.”

“We’d like him a lot better if he stayed out of your room in the dead of night, Colleen. We could start with that.” See, she hadn’t raised her voice, not a bit.

Colleen crossed her arms over her chest, looked away, toward the sunset. It shimmered through the trees, casting long shadows across the streets.

Annalise softened her voice. “I just don’t seem to know you lately. You have such a bright future ahead of you. A possible volleyball scholarship—schools already courting you. Why would you choose someone like Tucker Newman?”

“Mom, you act like I’m going to run away with him. We’re just
dating
.”

“That’s where it starts, Colleen. You pick the wrong boy and he can derail your entire life.”

Colleen stared at her, shaking her head. “You are completely overreacting.”

“He was in your
room
!” Whoops, there went her control, all the emotions of the last week boiling over. “And what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in, Colleen? Is this how you want your life to end up? Marrying someone like Tucker Newman? Living in
squalor with a boy who can’t possibly provide for you? I’ll be sure to add you to the turkey dinner list at church.”

Colleen’s mouth opened. “That’s amazingly unkind. Wow.”

But Annalise only heard the roaring in her ears. “I’m just trying to plan ahead here. How many kids will you fit into the trailer, or do you want to live in the basement? And do you want to get married first, or should we go ahead and use your wedding fund for a trip to Jamaica? Or an Alaskan cruise? Your father’s always wanted to see a killer whale.”

“Nice, Mom.” Colleen’s eyes reddened.

Annalise wasn’t handling this at all like she’d hoped. But she couldn’t seem to stop the overflow of words, flashing back suddenly to her past and her mother’s desperation.

Yes, she now forgave her mother for every nuance of that altercation. Another apology she’d give her when—no,
if
she ever saw her again.

“I just want to make sure that I’m keeping up with you, Colleen. Because a year ago, you wanted to be on the Olympic volleyball team. And was it six months ago that you thought you’d study for a term in New Zealand? You’re right—Tuck is a
much
better choice. He does have great hair. Maybe you and he could share hair accessories.”

“I love him,” Colleen snarled.

That stopped Annalise. And made her stare at her daughter, so much dread in her heart that she could barely speak. “No. No, you
don’t
. You haven’t a
clue
what it means to love someone. To commit to him for better or worse. To stand by him, to believe in him, to care more about him than you do yourself.
That’s. Love.
”

Colleen lifted a shoulder in an I-don’t-care-what-you-say shrug. “I love him.”

Annalise wanted to wrap her hands around her daughter’s shoulders and shake her until she came to her senses. She managed not to yell, but disgust layered her voice as she leveled it at Colleen with as much deadly accuracy as she could muster in the hope that her daughter might be stunned into hearing her. “Your kind of love will force you to make the stupidest decisions of your life. Letting a boy in your room in the middle of the night is just the beginning.”

“You have him all wrong,” Colleen snapped, her blue eyes flashing. “Tuck’s awesome. You don’t know him. You don’t even care about him.”

“You’re absolutely right: I don’t care about him. I care about
you
. I promise you—boys like Tuck only lead to trouble.”

“You are so judgmental! What do you know about boys like Tuck? You’ve taken one look at him and decided he was a loser. That’s real Christian, Mom.”

Annalise let everything she knew emerge in her calm, almost-distant tone of regret. A tone that she should have used ages ago. “I know plenty about boys like Tuck. And I know they want one thing, Colleen. Lucky him, you nearly gave it to him on Saturday night.”

Colleen stared at her, mouth open. “Seriously? That’s what you think of me?”

“I think you’re my daughter, Colleen. And unfortunately, I know exactly what you were thinking on Saturday night when you allowed Tucker into your room.”

Colleen’s eyes filled and she shook her head as if angry that she might be crying. “Because you, in your perfectly pure life, know what it’s like to want the cutest boy in school to notice you? You have even a clue what it feels like to have pressure from everywhere—grades, the state championship tournament, your
own family expecting you to be some kind of princess so your dad can get elected for mayor?”

“Really, Colleen, that’s what this is about? Your father’s mayoral candidacy?”

Colleen just looked at her.

“You must think I’m an idiot. You haven’t thought one second about your father in this or you wouldn’t be fooling around with Tucker, knowing your father would lose his mind if he knew what was going on.”

“I—”

“And we don’t expect you to be a princess, to shoulder it all—but we do expect you to behave like we’ve taught you.”

“A nice little girl.”

“A smart young woman. The kind who thinks before she opens her room to a teenage boy who is only looking to sleep with her.”

“Mom!”

Annalise raised an eyebrow.

Colleen’s face reddened—whether from anger or embarrassment, Annalise didn’t know. “I’m so sick of you dictating to me how I should live my life. You’re so perfect, so . . . small town. Did you ever think that I don’t want to live your life? I want something better, bigger. I want to live life, to taste it, to be a part of it. Most of all, I don’t want to be
you
.”

Oh. For all her angry defenses, Colleen found soft soil with her accusation.

How had Annalise let it come to this? This was not the conversation she was supposed to have with her daughter. Especially not—oh, please, no—the
last
conversation. She wanted to take every sticky, sarcastic word that hung in the car and shove it back inside. She desperately longed to believe everything her beautiful
daughter had said, to believe that indeed, she’d just made a mistake. That she and Tucker
had
been talking about church.

Right. Fear pushed out Annalise’s words in a soft, almost-horrified whisper. “Too bad, Colleen. You might not want to be me, but I’m afraid you already are.”

Colleen’s eyes widened. And then she shook her head, opened the door, got out, and slammed it with everything in her before stalking away into the dusky night.

On days like this, Nathan just wanted to hold his breath, never let the feeling go.

Like the sunrise as he’d run this morning, a golden streak of hope and peace on the dark horizon, spilling across the indigo lake, the breeze crisp and startling. He’d worked up a healthy sweat, running with power for all five miles, feeling like he was eighteen again, his entire life ahead of him.

He returned home invigorated and found his wife in the kitchen making breakfast, a smile tipping her lips, no hint of the desperation in the darkness from the night before.

Perhaps he’d made everything better.

Then, as he’d driven to work, the Deep Haven morning show played an analysis of the Friday morning political chat and decided that Nathan had a shot at beating Brewster.

So he could hardly believe it when, speak of the devil, Seb left a message on his business voice mail requesting a viewing of the McIntyre property.

Add that to the three online requests for showings and he just might get the place sold. His bills paid. Might actually land the mayoral position.

And then his name might vanish from Deep Haven lore, or at least he’d shine it up a bit. Give his children a reason to be proud. Give his wife justification for her belief in him.

He’d even called Lise to join him for lunch today, and they’d eaten at the Blue Loon Café—well, he’d intended to eat. But so many people congratulated him on his daughter’s championship run, Jason’s new role, and even his platform as mayor—lower taxes, an increase in a concentration of tourism—that he’d had to send his soup back for reheating. Even then, the wild rice soup turned out to be mushy and cold by the time he wolfed it down.

And so much for talking to Annalise. But she’d kissed him sweetly, as if she hadn’t minded, and offered to make him pork chops for supper.

God had surely given him a good wife.

And now, prosperity and even honor.

Yes, he just wanted to stand on the edge of the McIntyre property, watching the sun trace a Midas finger along the darkness of the water, and soak it in.

“So how long has this thing been empty?” Seb Brewster said as he joined Nathan along the edge.

Nathan turned his back to the scenery and folded his arms against the brisk chill seeping into his wool coat. He probably should have changed out of his dress shoes—after all, Seb appeared ready for a tromp through the woods in a pair of hiking boots and an orange hunting jacket, a Huskies baseball hat.

Then again, Seb always dressed as if he might charge into battle any moment. And why not? The guy sported his football build, even ten years after the state play-offs, and still had the aura of champion about him, even if he looked a little older, more responsible. Nathan well remembered watching him from the stands, cheering
for the team, if not for Seb. Back then, he remembered an arrogant young man owning his fame as if he might deserve it as he glad-handed fans around Deep Haven. Apparently no one cared that Seb’s father was a drunk and that Nathan had helped scoop him off the street a few times after finding the man curled in the alleyway between his real estate building and the old fire department.

But Nathan wasn’t going to let Seb intimidate him with his hometown charm. Seb hadn’t worked for twenty years in this community trying to earn their trust.

Except perhaps that was the problem. Seb already had it from the beginning.

“I think she’s had the place for about twenty years. Nelda couldn’t bring herself to part with it, although she never could figure out how to create something from it. She was stuck.”

Seb stared out over the lake. “I understand that. Not sure how to get out of a rut.” He adjusted his cap. “That’s why I came back to Deep Haven. To break free of the man I was becoming. To find a fresh start.” He glanced at Nathan. “I have a lot of catching up to do in this election.”

Seb, catch up with Nathan? “Seb, if I remember correctly, you were the grand marshal in this year’s Fisherman’s Picnic parade. The town is ecstatic to have you back.” He resisted the urge to suggest that Seb might beat him handily—no need to be overly magnanimous.

But Nathan wasn’t stupid. Seb even looked the north woods mayoral part, a flannel shirt under that jacket, his hair just a little long and woolly under his cap.

“Aw, they liked me when I could throw a touchdown pass. But that was then.” Seb smiled. “A man has to prove who he is every day, not rely on his past to build it for him.”

Nathan was starting to get the feeling that Seb had dragged him out here for more than a tour of the old, unfinished shell on the hill. Thanks, but he didn’t want to talk about the election. Or make Seb feel better in case he stole it from Nathan.

Which he wouldn’t.

“I hope you can see the potential of this place.” Nathan gestured toward the house, turning Seb from the view. “Put the living room here, with giant windows in an open floor plan. Over here is the kitchen.” He walked across the cement patio. “And what about here for a master bedroom? Wake up every morning to the sunrise over the lake?” He smiled, hoping Seb could see it.