On Mystic Lake
“Why do you stay with him?”
Annie sighed. She wasn’t up to this conversation. Not tonight. “You’re young and passionate, honey. Some day you’ll understand. Obligations and commitments build up around you—sort of like plaque. You have to do the right thing. I have other people to think about. ”
Natalie snorted. “I may be young and passionate, but you’re naive, Mom. You always have been. Sometimes I feel like the grown-up around you. You always think everything will work out for the best. ”
“I used to think that. Not so much anymore. ”
Natalie’s gaze was solemn. “You should have heard yourself last spring, Mom. You sounded so . . . happy. Now, I know why. He wasn’t around, making you jump every time he came into the room and scurry around to do his bidding. ”
It took Annie a second to find her voice, and when she did it was soft and hurting. “Is that how you see me?”
“I see you for who you are, Mom. Someone who loves with all her heart and will do anything to make us happy. But last spring, something made you happy. ”
Annie swallowed past the lump in her throat. She turned away, before Natalie could see the moisture gathering in her eyes.
“Tell me about Izzy. I bet you fixed her right up. ”
“Izzy. ” Although Annie knew it was opening the door on her pain, she let herself remember. Her thoughts scrolled back to the garden, to a handful of straggling shasta daisies, and a small, black-gloved hand. “She was something, Natalie. You would have loved her. ”
“And what about him?”
Annie turned slowly back to Natalie. “Who?”
“Izzy’s dad. ”
“He’s an old friend of mine from high school. ” Annie could hear the way her voice softened, and though she knew it was dangerous, she couldn’t change it. She smiled at a memory. “He was the first boy I ever kissed. ”
“There it is again, Mom. ”
Annie frowned. “There’s what?”
“That voice. It’s the way you sounded while I was in London. Is he part of what made you happy, Mom?”
Annie felt vulnerable and exposed, a woman walking out on a thin, rickety bridge. She couldn’t tell her daughter the truth. Perhaps someday, when the bridge of their years had brought Natalie to full womanhood, when she’d seen something more of life and love. When she could understand. “A lot of things made me happy in Mystic. ”
It was a long minute before Natalie spoke. “Maybe he and Izzy can come down here some time. Or maybe you and I can visit them. ”
“No,” Annie said softly. She wanted to say something more, tack an excuse onto the simple word that seemed to make no sense. But she couldn’t manage it. Instead, she pulled Natalie into her arm
s and squeezed tightly. “I’m sorry your dad forgot your birthday. ”
Natalie sniffled. “You’re the one I feel sorry for. ”
“How come?”
“In eighteen years you’ll be saying the same thing to Katie. ”
Chapter 28
Some time around midnight, a woman walked up to Blake. She was wearing a skintight black catsuit with a huge silver belt and black stiletto heels. With an easy smile, she sat down next to him. She tapped a long fingernail on the bar. “Vodka martini—two olives,” she said to the bartender.
In the background, a throaty Dwight Yoakam song came on, something about the pocket of a clown.
The woman turned to him. Nibbling on her olive, she asked him to dance.
Blake pushed off the bar stool and stumbled back from her, putting as much distance as he could between them. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m married. ”
But he didn’t turn away; he couldn’t. He stood there like a man possessed, staring at the woman. He couldn’t help wondering how those breasts would feel in his hands—the young, solid breasts of a woman who’d never had children, the small, pink nipples that had never nursed a baby.