On Mystic Lake

“Okay. Ten-thirty in the morning. Don’t forget. ”

Before she even hung up the phone, Annie had closed her eyes.

Annie dreamed she was in a cool, dark place. She could hear the cascading fall of water and the buzzing drone of a dragonfly. There was someone waiting for her in the forest’s darkness. She could hear the even cant of his breathing in the shadows. She wanted to reach for him, but she was afraid. Where she was felt familiar, safe, and he was waiting for her in a strange world where she didn’t know the rules. She was afraid that if she followed, she’d lose her way.

“Annie?”

She woke up suddenly and found Nick sitting on the end of her bed. Trying to smile, she struggled to sit up half way. “Hi. ”

“Izzy tells me you’re sick. ” He leaned toward her, touched her forehead. “You’re warm. ”

“I am?”

He slid closer to her and produced a thermometer. “Open up. ”

Like an obedient child, she opened her mouth. The slick, cool thermometer slid under her tongue and settled in place. She closed her lips, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from Nick.

“I’ve brought you some orange juice and a couple of scrambled eggs. Oh, and Tylenol and a pitcher of ice water. ”

Annie watched in surprise as he went into the bathroom. Then he came back to her, carefully folding a wet cloth in thirds as he walked. He sat back on the chair beside the bed and placed the cool rag on her forehead. Then he handed her two Tylenols. “Here. ”

She stared down at the two little pills in his hand.

He frowned. “Annie? You’re crying. ”

She blinked hard. Damn. “Am I? Don’t worry about me. It’s probably allergies. Or menopause. I’ve been feeling hormonal all week. And I think I’m gearing up for a howler of a—” She bit back the word period. This wasn’t her husband she was talking to, and her periods weren’t exactly an acceptable topic for conversation. The realization isolated her. With that one tiny word she couldn’t say, she understood how adrift she was, how unconnected. It was something she’d always taken for granted in her marriage, the way you could say anything at any time, reveal any secret thing about yourself. There was no one now with whom she could be so free.

“What is it, Annie?”

The gentleness in his voice only made her cry harder, and though it was humiliating to sit here crying for no reason, she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Annie?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “You’ll think I’m an idiot. ”

He laughed, a quiet, tender sound. “You’re worried about what the town drunk thinks?”

She sniffed hard. “Don’t talk about yourself that way. ”

“Is that how the rich people in California do it—am I just supposed to pretend you’re not crying? Now, tell me what’s the matter. ”

Annie closed her eyes. It seemed to take forever to find her voice. “No one has ever given me an aspirin before— I mean, without me asking for it. ” God, it sounded as pathetic as she’d thought it would. She felt ashamed and horribly exposed. She tried to tack an explanation on, so it sounded better. “I’ve been a wife and mother for so long. I’ve always been the one who took care of people when they were sick. ”

“But no one took care of you. ” He said it as a simple statement, and though she wanted to reject it as being silly, she couldn’t.

It was all there, in that simple, simple sentence, everything that had been wrong with her marriage. She’d done everything to make Blake’s life safe and perfect; she’d loved him and cared for him and protected him. All those years she’d made excuses for his selfishness: he was tired, or busy, or distracted by business. They were just layers of pretty wrapping paper on a dark and ugly truth.

No one took care of you.

Suddenly she was crying for all of it, every missed moment, every dream she’d ever had. The marriage she’d had wasn’t good enough. She’d never really, truly been loved . . . not the way she deserved to be loved.

With a deep, ragged sigh, she wiped her eyes and smiled up at Nick. “I’m sorry for being such a baby. ”

She glanced at the things he’d placed on her nightstand. Orange juice, water, cold tablets, Tylenol, a plate of scrambled eggs, and a piece of cinnamon toast. And it made her want to cry all over again. She didn’t know what to say to him, this man who’d accidentally opened a door on her old life and shown her the truth.

“You should drink something. ”

She wiped her runny nose and gave him a crooked grin. “Well, you should know. ”