On Mystic Lake

“I love you, Annie Bourne. ”

It made her want to cry all over again, that soft, quiet reminder of something that was already leaking away. Colwater, she wanted to say. I’m Annie Colwater, and you love a woman who is fading every second. Instead, she forced a wan, tired smile, thankful that he couldn’t see it. “Thank you, Nick,” she whispered. “Thank you so much. Tell Izzy I’ll call her in a few days, when . . . when I know what’s happening. ”

“We’ll be praying for . . . all of you,” he said finally.

She sighed, feeling the useless tears start all over again. “Good-bye, Nick. ”

Chapter 27

It was the middle of the night, but Annie couldn’t sleep. Though she was no longer technically a patient, the hospital had given her a room so she could be near Katie. She’d tried reading and eating and writing, anything to take her mind off of Katie, but nothing worked.

She’d spent hours hunched alongside the incubator, reading, singing, praying. She’d expressed milk into a bottle, but when she looked at the creamy-colored liquid, she wondered if her baby would ever get a chance to drink it. Or a chance to grow strong and move out of this sterile world, a chance to grow and start school and snuggle with her mommy. . . .

We’ll get through this, she said to herself, straightening her spine, but every time a machine buzzed, Annie thought this is it, she’s stopped breathing.

Blake had tried to help, in his own way, but it hadn’t worked. He’d said, She’ll be okay, in a quiet voice, over and over again, but when he spoke, his eyes were blank and afraid.

In truth, Annie had been glad when he left the hospital.

I just can’t stay here, he’d said.

Okay. That was her answer, and even the

n, in the quiet darkness, the single word seemed coiled in sorrow and regret.

He’d tried to laugh it off. I don’t have to sleep in a chair to prove my love—do I?

Of course not, she’d answered, knowing that it was a lie. Go get Natalie. Her plane lands at nine o’clock.

He’d jumped on the opportunity, just as she’d known he would. He’d rather be anywhere than in this cold, unfamiliar world where his wife cried all day.

She climbed out of bed and moved slowly to the window. Her stitches hurt, but she welcomed the pain. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the window’s cold glass. Below, the parking lot was a huge gray square, dotted with a few shadowy black cars.

Finally, she turned away. She’d just gotten back into bed when the phone rang. She picked it up. “Hello?”

“Annie? It’s me, Nick. ”

“Nick. ” His name came out on a whisper of longing.

“I thought you might need me. ”

It sounded so simple, those few little words, but they wound around her heart and squeezed. She’d spent a lifetime going through crises alone, always being the strong one, always being in control, and she hadn’t realized until just now how much she yearned to be comforted.

“How is she doing?” he asked.

She ran a shaking hand through her short hair. “She’s holding on. The neonatologist says she’ll be okay if she can just . . . hold on another few weeks. . . . ” Quietly, she began to cry again. “I’m sorry, Nick. I’m tired and scared. All I seem to do is cry. ”

“You want to hear a story?”

She wanted desperately to be whisked away from reality on the wings of his voice. “Yes, please . . . ”

“It’s about a man who started life as poor white trash, a kid who ate out of Dumpsters and lived in the backseat of an old Impala. After his mom died, the world gave this young boy a singular chance, and he moved to a soggy little town he’d never heard of, where they didn’t know about his ugly past. He went to high school there, and he fell in love with two girls. One was the sun and the other was the moon. He was young, and he reached for the moon, figuring it was a safe, quiet place—and he knew that if you reached for the sun it could burn you away to nothing. When his wife died, he lost his soul. He turned his back on his child and his dreams and he crawled into a bottle of booze. All he wanted was to die, but he didn’t have the guts. ”

“Nick, don’t . . . ”

“So this drunk waited for someone to end his life for him. He waited for someone to take his child away. Then, he thought, then he’d have the guts to kill himself. Only none of that happened, because a fairy princess came into his life. He still remembers what it was like that day, the way the rain was just starting to fall and the lake was as still as glass. He remembers everything about the day she came into his life. ”

“Nick, please . . . ” She wanted him to stop, now, before the story spun its gossamer strands around her heart and romanced her beyond repair.