Читать книгу A Promise Remembered - Elizabeth Mowers - Страница 11
ОглавлениеANNIE POKED HER head into her children’s shared bedroom as Marjorie, her neighbor, helped them fumble into pajamas.
A nurturing widow in her sixties, Marjorie had proved to be a reliable confidante and babysitter in recent years. While Annie was prone to overreaction, nothing ever seemed to rile serene Marjorie. Her auburn hair had peppered to white over the years, and her face, a road map of heavy wrinkles and lines, was radiant because of the loving expressions it constantly displayed. A transplant from Tennessee, she carried a Southern hospitality and charm. Between Joyce and Marjorie, Annie was certain her own mother was in heaven, sending surrogates to stand by her side.
“Are you okay, honey?” Marjorie asked in her sweet, charming lilt.
Annie managed a negligent shrug, the day hanging heavy around her neck as she leaned against the doorway.
Marjorie kissed her tenderly on the cheek. “We’ll have a cup of tea on it another time. They’ve been watching the clock, waiting for you. I’ll let myself out.”
Annie climbed onto her daughter’s bed and sighed with satisfaction. Despite all her failures over the course of her adult life, the two little people tumbling over themselves to embrace her were certainly not included in the list. They were the only reason that the last few years had been tolerable.
Betsy was an outspoken eight-year-old with a round, expressive face and big brown eyes like hers. She had a goofy expression to match any occasion and had certainly gotten herself into trouble by an inappropriately timed raised eyebrow. James, on the other hand, was as fair and gentle as a light summer rain. With storm-gray eyes and moppy brown hair, he moved delicately through the world, examining it from his owl perch before cautiously dipping in a toe and joining the action.
While they didn’t share a father, the two were thick as thieves, and Annie, who had no siblings of her own, took solace in the fact that what she couldn’t give them in extended family, she had made up for by giving them each other.
James, following Betsy’s flailing pantomime directions, selected a Rapunzel storybook from the cupboard and sandwiched himself between Annie and Betsy on his bed.
“Wasn’t it your turn to pick?” Annie asked as James snuggled into her side. He shrugged as Betsy yanked the book from his hands and flipped open the cover.
“I love this book so much,” Betsy said, shuddering with excitement.
Annie tucked a pillow behind her back and prepared to read Rapunzel for the hundredth time. “Why?”
Betsy tipped her head back against her pillow before replying with a whimsical look, “I love how the prince saves Rapunzel and carries her off to his palace.”
“That isn’t how life works, Bets.”
“I know. I know,” her daughter grumbled, aware she had heard this talk before. “But I still like this story the best, and I want to read it a hundred more times. A thousand more times!”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that,” Annie said. She pulled the covers over the three of them. “But I’ll read it once tonight.” As her children melted deeper against her, she understood the allure of getting lost in a little fantasy now and again, especially a romantic one. Her children didn’t need to be privy to the disappointing ways of the world yet. Unfortunately, that was her job.
* * *
WILLIAM THRUST OPEN the rickety shed door and stood back to admire how everything inside was still meticulously placed just as Dennis had left it. It was a clear indicator his mother had not been inside since Dennis’s death three years ago. As the early-morning sun filtered in from behind him, thousands of dust particles glittered and swirled around his first hesitant step. The air inside hung heavy and musty. With his eyes closed, the stale scent of cedar chips, rusted-out gas cans and motor oil wafted over him. It engulfed his nostrils with a nostalgia he had long tried to bury. Only one whiff and he was back to the day his life veered off course.
Right on the threshold of this shed, when William hadn’t had any proof that he was the true victim and not the violent juvenile Dennis had claimed, his stepfather had tried to have him arrested. For as many times as he had recalled the altercation, the details had slowly begun to fade. Perhaps it was a way to cope with his anger and soften the hard edges, but standing in the shed again, the details came back to him: the dueling sawhorses Dennis had made him sand until his fingertips were raw and bleeding; Dennis’s apple-red tool chest he’d once innocently scratched and paid hell for later; and the wooden pallet he’d punched a fist through minutes before the cops arrived and Dennis had falsely accused him of assault. It took all his restraint to not boot the nearest thing just for the satisfaction of hearing it shatter and break against the wall.
Heaving a sigh, he jerked the corner of a dust-covered drop cloth to reveal one of his teenage fantasies in all its chrome glory: the classic 1981 Indian motorcycle. Fully restored, practically fawned over daily by the old man, it was a thing of pure beauty. And now it was finally his.
He gingerly ran his fingers over the smooth cinnamon-colored paint that had inspired him to nickname the motorcycle Old Red. He carefully swung his leg over the leather seat and firmly gripped the handlebars. The bike had been sitting cold for several years in the harsh Lake Superior winters, so he drew a breath and hoped for the best.
He shifted the transmission to Neutral and carefully set his choke. After pulling in the clutch, he pressed the starter button and waited for the crackle of the engine to tear through every corner of the tiny shed.
Nothing.
William double-checked that his kill switch wasn’t set at Off and tried again, but the engine was silent.
Perfect.
“Call The Chinoodin Chronicle! Hell hath officially frozen over.”
A grin leaped to William’s face at the familiar voice. “How are you doing, man?” His buddy Brandon Rodriguez strode into the shed and embraced him in a bear hug. “How’d you know I was back?”
“Son, please. I know everything happening in this town.” Brandon slung his suit jacket over a chair and loosened his tie. He stopped short to admire the vintage bike. “Are you fixin’ up Old Red?”
“It looks like I have to. I can’t get it started.”
“I’d love to buy it off you, but the hours I work at the mayor’s office wouldn’t leave me enough time to make it worthwhile.”
“Are you at the mayor’s office now?”
“Two years in August,” Brandon replied, sitting back on a dusty sawhorse. “What are you doing in town?”
William shook his head. “Hard to say right now.”
Brandon nodded and held out a grocery bag. “A homecoming gift of sorts.”
William glanced in the bag. “Pabst Blue Ribbon beer?” He chuckled. “Are you still drinking that?”
“Nah. Only for you, man,” Brandon said. “Rocky’s was my first stop when I heard you were back. I had to help you stock the fridge. Have you been by the diner yet?”
“Unfortunately,” William said, his empty gut still raw from the restless night.
“Did you catch a glimpse of Annie?”
“I caught more than that.”
“She’s still a good-looking woman, eh?”
“Annie? Annie Curtis? Are you two...?” William couldn’t quite get the words out, but his meaning was clear.
“Oh, no. Annie’s great, but I’m already seeing someone. How long are you staying?”
“Just passing through.”
Brandon surveyed the shed. “Well, I know things ended on a sour note before.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Yeah, it sure is. It’s been a long time.” He focused on William. “If you’re interested, I could always put in a good word for you with Annie. Maybe help mend some of the...”
William waved off the idea immediately.
“Not worth my time or hers, Brandon.”
“Did you tell her you’re just passing through?”
William snorted. “Why would I? It’s none of her business. Besides, she wouldn’t be interested.”
“No?”
William angled his chin. “Am I missing something?”
Brandon looked confused just as the shed door swung wide with a loud creak.
“I thought I heard you out here.” Joyce carefully stepped inside before stopping short and studying the two men. “Back together again,” she mused. “My, oh, my, has it been a long time. Brandon, did you know William surprised me?”
Brandon waggled his eyebrows. “I can imagine.”
“I’m sure they heard me hollering with joy all the way in Munising.”
“It didn’t take him long to find that bike.”
Joyce rolled her eyes. “William, should I feel honored you at least came to see me first?”
William shrugged. “Who can say for certain that that’s what I did?” Joyce swatted him playfully on the arm as he grinned. “I had to make sure we were still on good terms. It needs more tender loving care than I’d hoped, though.”
“Don’t we all,” Joyce said. “We need to leave in ten minutes, Will. We can get coffee at the diner.”
“The diner?”
“Our shift begins in half an hour.” Joyce shuffled outside and headed to the house as William squeezed past the motorcycle and scratched his chin.
“Helping at the diner, eh?” Brandon said, collecting his suit jacket.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“What better things do you have to do?”
“Get this engine running for one.”
“Ah, there’s time.”
But that was exactly what William didn’t have much of and wanted to avoid—spending more time in Chinoodin Falls than he could afford.
* * *
ANNIE SPED INTO the diner. Her purse dangled from her wrist and a sweater was slung haphazardly over her shoulder as she swirled her hair into a messy bun. After calling hello to Joyce and playfully hip checking Karrin, her fellow waitress, on her scramble to begin her shift, she sprinted to the office. Beads of sweat were already perspiring on her lip when she stopped short at the sight of William carelessly rummaging through her desk as if he owned the place. The scene caught her so completely off guard, it took a moment for her to piece together a coherent sentence.
“What...what...what on earth do you think you’re doing?” she finally stammered, charging toward him and slamming her purse onto the desk. Her eyebrows shot up as she waited for an explanation, but William made no effort to answer her. He leaned comfortably back in her chair and a satisfied grin curled his lips. “That’s my desk, you know,” she pointed out.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I’ll tell you if you wouldn’t mind easing up a bit.”
“You tell me right now,” she commanded, her shadow darkening his handsomely chiseled jaw. She avoided looking directly into his eyes, hoping to avoid the mesmerizing pull of those blue pools. William stretched his hands, clasped them behind his head and leaned farther back in her chair.
“Seriously, Annie, I can practically see up your nose from this angle.”
Annie pursed her lips and looked around for the nearest thing to knock the easygoing smile off his face. She snatched the papers he was reading from the desk in one crinkled wad and smacked his shoulder with them.
In an instant, William was on his feet. “Hey. What’s the matter with you?”
“What are you snooping through?” She flipped through the papers with such speed, she couldn’t read or register what they were. The last few years she had tried her best to keep the paperwork for the diner organized—invoices, tax forms, payroll—but it was nearly impossible between working the floor and hurrying home to her children after each shift. As she eyed the evidence of her miserable bookkeeping abilities, it was his scent that finally made her turn her head. She caught her breath at its charming appeal and found William studying her. His gaze sending a series of tickles like butterfly kisses down her spine.
She didn’t know what was going on here, but she wasn’t going to stand around and twiddle her thumbs while he slowly pieced together an explanation. She could table this matter for later, after she had collected herself and put more distance between them. As she tossed the papers at him in a flurry, William sat back on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms.
“I was searching for your letter.”
“My letter?” she said with a sputter.
“Mmm-hmm. I know I missed your voice mail.”
“Voice mail?”
“Unless... Were you planning to apologize in person, Ms. Curtis?” William rubbed his stomach. “I was up all night, you know. It’s a wonder I didn’t have to go to the hospital after all.”
Annie scoffed. “I saw you when you left. You weren’t that sick.”
“No? Have you ever been poisoned before?”
“Are you accusing me of poisoning you?”
“Didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Annie said, tipping her nose in the air on her way out of the office.
“What goes around comes around, Annie.”
“Remind yourself of that fact!” she called. Desperate for an outlet to funnel complicated feelings she’d ignored since she was seventeen years old, Annie attempted to start the coffee maker with a series of pointedly timed clangs and clanks. After a moment of telling it off in vulgarities muttered under her breath, she noticed a shadow behind her.
“Are you okay?” Miles was cautiously peeking from around the corner.
“I’m a little mad.”
He carefully pried a glass coffeepot from her whitened fingertips. “At my kitchen?”
“At you know who.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“Do you think revving yourself up on caffeine is gonna make things better?” Annie reluctantly smiled, snatching back the pot and shoving it into the coffee maker with a final clank. “You know, Annie, he seems like a decent guy. I talked to him earlier and...” Annie’s eyes narrowed as the husky college student hurriedly backpedaled. “I mean...he’s a total jerk, and I guess I don’t like him, eh?”
Annie jerked a nod of approval as she waited for the coffee to percolate.
“Too bad you can’t hide out in the kitchen with me today,” Miles suggested before chugging a soda.
“You know I’d love to, kid, but the farthest point from you know who happens to be the dining room.” Impatient for her jolt of caffeine, she stole a swig of Miles’s soda and rolled her eyes at the fact that that wasn’t nearly far enough.
* * *
WILLIAM GNAWED ON a piece of bacon while sizing things up from the end of the counter. Between observing the morning regulars and quietly recounting his youth slaving away in the diner, he had enough to occupy his attention. Though nothing was as fascinating as the way Annie Curtis could work the dining room. She carried food trays with ease and chatted to all like a long-lost friend. She winked at her regulars, anticipated their requests and bubbled with laughter until, that is, she had to walk within three yards of him. He had categorized himself as the black sheep over the years, depending on the situation, but Annie now helped him experience it at a more personal level.
“That’s it. Keep ignoring me,” he whispered under his breath. She’d marched past him into the kitchen, her face etched in a stern glare.
It was a figure at the entryway that finally drew his attention. A tall, hefty man with a commanding presence and pressed suit, who looked out of place in the small, folksy diner. William could feel the energy in the room shift as others followed the man’s arrogant saunter.
“Hello, Sean,” Joyce said. Her voice rang brittle with forced politeness.
William did a double take, recognizing the dressy brute as Sean Butler, a fellow Chinoodin High alumnus who had graduated a year ahead of him. He had been a smug jerk in high school, and judging by his demeanor, he hadn’t changed much except for putting on a few pounds and splurging on polished designer shoes.
Sean halted, his eyes on William. William calmly sipped his coffee and waited for Sean to lose interest in his presence. He generally didn’t engage others in conversation, choosing to keep to himself as much as possible. Besides, if he remembered correctly, Sean’s conversational skills were akin to a wrecking ball.
“Hey,” Sean grunted, screwing up his face to place William. “Chinoodin High?”
“A year behind you.”
“That’s right, that’s right. Heh. You’re Joyce’s son, eh?”
“Will.”
Sean leered at him. “I know who you are. You’re not moving back, are you?”
William had no desire to stay in Chinoodin Falls longer than the time it took to eat his breakfast, but the disgust in Sean’s voice rubbed him the wrong way.
“Hard to say.”
Sean snorted. “Why’s that?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Are you holding up the counter and weighing your options?”
“Do you need a second-by-second commentary, or can’t you fill in the blanks on your own?”
Sean jutted his chin before what sounded like a forced chuckle. “You’re a plethora of knowledge, ain’t ya?”
William took another sip of his coffee and turned his attention to what was behind the counter. He knew when he was being baited and couldn’t afford to lower himself to Sean Butler’s level. “So, it’s back from the Navy, is it? Are you gonna help your mother clean up this dump? Lord knows it needs it. I hate just being seen in this place.”
William was surprised Sean knew he had been in the Navy. Suddenly Annie burst through the swinging doors, a tray of breakfasts teetering in her hands. Sean straightened and lumbered toward her as she hurriedly passed out the plates before trying to slip around him.
“I’m in the middle of the morning rush, Sean. I’ll talk to you later,” she said before hustling into the kitchen, but Sean barreled through the kitchen doors after her like a pit bull fixated on a scrap of meat.
Joyce hovered nearby, wringing her hands fitfully. When her frightened eyes found William’s, his spine stiffened in alarm. A quick glance around the dining room proved that Joyce wasn’t the only one on edge with Sean’s arrival. The collective murmur of folks’ conversations had momentarily hushed. A few customers had put down their newspapers. Two women exchanged a worried glance. They were a herd of antelope at the watering hole, and a lion had just been seen on the savannah. They knew something he didn’t, and he hated surprises.
The seconds ticked by as he decided whether or not to investigate. He had no sooner mulled the thought over when Sean’s voice boomed from the kitchen, startling several customers and jarring William to his feet. He wasn’t sure what he’d find waiting for him on the other side of those doors, but he had every intention of finding out.
As he braced himself to throw his full weight against the swinging aluminum doors, Sean emerged with a snarl donning his upper lip. Being confronted with William, he stopped short, the two men mirroring each other’s expressions, standing toe to toe.
“Whoa. Call off your son, Joyce,” Sean finally spat without tearing his eyes from William.
“You’re the one hollering in there,” William said in a deep tone.
“True,” Sean replied in a hushed voice as he hoisted his belt higher on his waist. “The wife still needs to be told from time to time. You know how that goes, swabbie.”
William’s jaw tightened as Sean sauntered around him and stopped to grab a few mints on his way out the front door. The little wife? If Annie had married Sean Butler, it was no wonder she looked as harried and worried as she did. Losing a Miss Congeniality award was the very least of her problems if Sean had weaseled, or more likely bulldozed, his way into her life.
* * *
ANNIE HUNG BACK until she was sure Sean had left. She detested his unannounced visits. They were manipulative confrontations she worried would escalate into public scenes. Every so often, like clockwork, he’d fabricate an excuse about how she was doing a poor job mothering James just so he could come by and unleash verbal jabs in front of her friends and coworkers. But as much as she hated it, they were the witnesses she preferred. On occasion he had stumbled onto her porch steps, sweating whiskey sours and moaning profanities. Any humiliation she tolerated at work was better than scurrying the children off to hide in their bedrooms.
She knew Sean delighted in the power he wielded over her. He was James’s father, so she wanted to believe that underneath the verbal jabs, he loved the little guy, but she really couldn’t vouch for it with any certainty. Most days, James’s welfare was an excuse Sean used to make her life miserable.
Annie bit the inside of her cheek and refused to cry. It wouldn’t solve anything except make her eyes puffy and solicit questions from her friends. She held firmly to her mantra: no emotional breakdowns except in the shower.
After forcing a few deep, calming breaths, she smoothed the front of her dress and stepped out into the dining room with the resolve of a royal diplomat.
“Are you okay, honey?” Joyce whispered, looping an arm through hers.
Annie feigned a smile. “Of course.” But when she read pity in William’s gaze, a sinking pit in her stomach quaked open. Pity was something she absolutely could not take.
She’d had her fair share of it over the years. The pitiful stares after Julian ran out, leaving her pregnant with Betsy and practically destitute, still haunted her.
There had been a pity party disguised as a wedding reception when, out of pure desperation to provide for Betsy and herself, she had married Sean. Oh, how she had wanted to escape from the hall after Sean got drunk with his buddies and forgot her during their first dance.
She was still paying the price for those bad decisions, and she didn’t need anyone’s pity or judgment, especially William Kauffman’s. Perhaps if he hadn’t bailed on her in the first place, things would have been different somehow. But instead, here he was, standing in front of her as the aftershock of Sean’s visit rattled her.
“Are you okay?” His voice aimed to soothe, but Annie wouldn’t allow it. She paused, fiddling with her apron strings as William leaned closer, the heat from his strong build warming her skin, making goose bumps prickle up her neck.
“Never better,” she said.
“I heard the way he talked to you.”
“So?”
“Does he do that often?” Annie shrugged in dismissal, but he quickly continued. “You don’t deserve that, Annie.”
She met his gaze, ready to defy his pity, but found only grave concern instead. His center of gravity seemed to shift, and she thought he was about to reach out and touch her. How she had ached for him to touch her when it had been another man cozied up beside her in bed and all that truly comforted her was the memory of his gentleness.
Annie pulled away. “Unless you want to place another order, I have paying customers to see to. Excuse me.”
She breezed past him. She hated that she still longed for him to touch her. And she hated that he was witnessing how her life had fallen apart these last twelve years without him in it.
* * *
WILLIAM SLID A For Sale sign onto his dashboard in one swift movement. Once he sold his truck, he’d have enough money to gas up Old Red and head for the Pacific Northwest for the summer. Who knew where things would lead him after that? He’d travel on the wind, no ties to anyone, and decide next steps as opportunities arose.
“Are you selling your truck?” Joyce frowned at him, having just locked up the diner for the night. William nodded, opening the passenger door and helping her up into the cab. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I can’t drive a motorcycle and a truck at the same time.”
Joyce clutched her handbag on her lap and fiddled with the straps as William climbed into the driver’s seat.
“I don’t see why you can’t have both. There’s room in the garage and shed.”
He stalled before answering as Joyce’s eyes bored holes in the side of his face. She had assumed he was home to stay, and he knew he had to correct her. At some point. After firing up his Chevy, he offered a reply.
“I need to sell her while she’s still running.”
“On her last legs, is she?”
“Something like that,” he said, tuning the radio to a classic-rock station. Joyce nodded before yanking a handkerchief from her purse and hacking into it with such force, William nearly swerved off the road. “Ma, are you okay?”
Joyce attempted a nod as her cheeks swelled to a patchy rouge. With each gasp for breath between coughing fits, William was more alarmed, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the road.
After several agonizing seconds, she finally heaved a sigh, clutching her chest in relief. “Oh, goodness,” she breathed. “I’m glad that’s over. Don’t look so worried, sweetie. It comes and goes.”
“What exactly?” William said, resting his hand tenderly on her shoulder.
“It’s a little respiratory infection I’m still shaking. My immune system is building itself up again after my being sick last winter. I could do with a nap before dinner.” Joyce blotted her mouth with her handkerchief before carefully tucking it into her purse. She smiled reassuringly. “Really, honey, I’m fine.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“Of course, of course. My seasonal allergies aggravate it. Plus it’s been a long day.”
William finally eased back into his seat and put both hands on the wheel. “It was an interesting day.”
“How so?”
“Does Sean Butler come into the diner often?”
Joyce rolled her eyes. “Define often.”
“He hasn’t changed a lick since high school, you know.”
“Did you know him, dear?”
Bullies like Sean hardly went unnoticed in a school as small as Chinoodin High. “Unfortunately. How long have they been married?”
“They divorced three years ago, but he’s as awful an ex-husband as he was a husband.” William tensed, imagining Annie married to Sean Butler. He was a class-A creep. “Annie’s had a rough time of it,” Joyce continued, tilting her head back to rest.
“Why? What’s happened?” William frowned. A soft hum vibrated behind Joyce’s cute smile as she lovingly patted his leg. “What?” he blurted, shoulders jerking in defense.
“Some things don’t fade with time, I suppose.”
“Never mind,” he said, turning up the radio volume. The less he knew about Annie and her troubles, the better. She’d be a dot in his rearview mirror in a matter of days anyway.
