50 Harbor Street (7 page)

S
aturday night, Allison Cox was roused from a sound sleep by a tap on her bedroom window. Her clock told her it was almost three. She turned on the small light on her bed stand, tossed aside her down comforter and hurried to the window. Opening the blinds, she peered outside and gasped when Anson smiled at her.

“Let me in,” he mouthed.

She’d be in big trouble if her parents ever found out about this. Although the temptation was almost overpowering, she shook her head. “I can’t.”

He nodded vigorously and rubbed his bare hands together. Then he hunched his shoulders, as if to ward off the wind. His eyes pleaded with her.

“Anson, no.” She shook her head again, trying to convince herself.

He paused, waited a moment and then turned around, not hiding his disappointment.

His willingness to walk away was her undoing. He’d been so good to her, so gentle and sweet. The first time they’d kissed, his goatee had bothered her and the next time she saw
him, he’d shaved it off. Allison had been moved by his thoughtfulness. He cared about her more than any other guy ever had. In fact, she liked him a lot—more than she should. Her parents had no idea how often they saw each other because she hid their relationship as much as she could. Even Cecilia had voiced her concern about Anson, and she hadn’t even met him. But Allison knew he wasn’t what he appeared to be. The clothes and attitude were all for show.

Twice now he’d come over in the evenings, and he’d been respectful to her mother and father. That had earned him brownie points with her dad.

“Oh, all right,” she acquiesced and grabbed her housecoat. She threw it over her pajamas, then slid open the window. Leaving him out in the cold was more than she could bear.

Anson crawled into her bedroom, landing on his feet with a solid thump. Thank goodness for her plush carpet, which absorbed much of the sound. His face was red from the cold, and his lips were chapped. He wore his signature black coat, a knit cap pulled low over his ears. His hands were bare. Smiling at her in the dim room, he let his eyes soften and leaned toward her, his mouth shaping hers in a long, hungry kiss. His face felt chilled and his lips, too.

Allison broke off the kiss and clutched her housecoat tighter around her. “What are you doing here?” she asked in an urgent whisper. “Do you know what time it is?”

Anson sat on the carpet, his back against the side of the bed. Allison knelt beside him. “I shouldn’t have come,” he whispered. “It was wrong, I know, but…” He looked down, unable to meet her gaze.

“No, it’s all right,” she said and reached for his hands, warming them between her own. His coat had a peculiar smell. It was as if he’d been standing next to a bonfire and the smoke had clung to him. “What are you doing out at this time of night?”

He kept his head lowered. “I can’t involve you in this.”

“In what, Anson? You can’t involve me in what?” She touched his face, pressing her warm palm to his cheek and was shocked again at how cold his skin was.

Anson covered her hand with his own, then slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. He slid his hand to the nape of her neck and brought her mouth back to his. His kiss was demanding, desperate.

“We can’t do this here…now,” she said, as quietly as she could. It would be easy to let him keep touching her, kissing her, but her father was a light sleeper and the risk was too great. Besides, something was terribly wrong. She felt it, saw it in Anson’s eyes, a wildness that frightened her—and yet she didn’t feel she could desert him.

Once more Anson looked down, avoiding her gaze.

“Tell me what happened,” she insisted. “Where have you been?”

His voice was barely audible. “The park.”

“I thought it was closed. How’d you get in?”

His mouth twisted in a half smile. “All they have is a gate. It’s easy enough to jump over that.”

“Who were you with?” She should’ve realized a gate across the entrance wasn’t going to lock anyone out, least of all Anson and his friends.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Who?” she asked again.

“I was alone, okay?”

A siren pierced the night and Anson scrambled to his knees, crawled close to the window and peered out. “Anson?” Dread wormed its way into her stomach. “What’s going on?”

Again he refused to answer as he crawled back to where she knelt.

“There’s a fire?”

He hesitated and then nodded.

“Does it have anything to do with you?”

He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice trembled. “Yes.”

“Oh, my gosh.” She covered her mouth with both hands as she tried to take in what he was telling her.

“I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. My mother’s got some friend at the house,” he said scornfully, “and I can’t stand to be around when she has a sleepover.” He couldn’t seem to look at her. “The walls between our rooms are thin. I can hear everything.”

He didn’t need to say any more for her to understand why he had to leave.

He seemed to think Allison would be angry with him and when she wasn’t, he added, “I just
had
to get out.”

“So you went to the park?”

He nodded. “It’s cold and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Everything began to add up. “You…started a fire?”

“I was looking for a way to keep warm.” He rubbed his hand down his face. “I thought I’d make a campfire, you know, but I’m no Boy Scout. I must’ve done something wrong, because the wind picked up and before I knew it the flames caught—near the maintenance hut.”

“Is that what’s on fire?”

Anson bit his lower lip. “There must’ve been some gasoline on the ground or something, because it practically exploded. I tired to put it out, but I couldn’t. Then I got scared. The flames were too hot, so I ran. I should’ve stayed, should’ve found a payphone and called the fire department. There isn’t one in the park.”

Allison’s heart pounded hard as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Anson had come to her; he needed her. They talked every day and hung out at school together. She
was crazy about him, but her teachers, her friends, even Cecilia, thought he was wrong for her. Her parents were leery, too, but they’d let Anson come to the house for dinner twice. She and Anson even went to the library and studied together. Allison didn’t believe that caring about someone this much could be wrong.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

He hung his head. “I don’t know.”

In that case, she did. “I’m going to wake up my dad.”

“No!” His response was automatic.

“My dad will know what to do,” she argued. “He won’t come down on you if you’re honest with him. He’s fair, Anson.”

He still looked uncertain. “Maybe…maybe that fire wasn’t as much of an accident as I said.”

Shocked, Allison sat back on her heels.
“What?”

He glanced away and she saw that his hands had started to tremble. “I didn’t mean for it to get out of control like that,” he whispered.

“You set the shed on fire on
purpose?
You mean it wasn’t an accident?”

His nod was barely perceptible. “Your dad will want to take me to the sheriff’s office. Allison, I can’t. I’m almost eighteen. The prosecutor might decide to try me as an adult.”

A sick feeling invaded the pit of her stomach, but she’d learned that the best way to attack a problem was head-on. She didn’t have any reassurances to give him. “They might, but I’ll be with you.”

“Your dad won’t let you have anything to do with me if I tell him what I did.”

Allison already knew this was a risk. “I know, but that’s a chance we have to take. My dad’s fair and he’ll respect you for being honest. He’ll do what he can to help you.”

“Why would he?”

Allison straightened her shoulders and brought her hand to his cheek. “Because his daughter cares what happens to you.”

Anson’s eyes locked onto hers. “You do?”

“A lot.” Allison’s heart swelled with the intensity of her emotions.

At her words, her touch, Anson’s eyes filled with tears. “No one’s ever really cared about me before,” he said.

“
I
care.” And to prove how much, she leaned forward and kissed him. He smiled tentatively when she lifted her lips from his. Taking him by the hand, she led him out of her bedroom and into the kitchen. By the light of the moon, which shone coldly through the window, she urged him into a chair, instructing him to wait there while she woke her father.

“You’re sure about this?”

Allison wasn’t sure of anything, but she trusted her father. He’d know what to do and how best to help Anson. She had no other alternative.

Her dad was sitting up in bed even before Allison reached her parents’ door. “What’s going on?” he asked. Her mother slept contentedly at his side, undisturbed.

“Anson needs your help,” she whispered.

“Now? In the middle of the night?”

She met his stare as he folded back the covers. “I trust you to do the right thing, Dad,” she told him, her voice shaking. That was all she would say. All she could do was pray he didn’t disappoint her.

“T
his is such a treat,” Maryellen said, slipping into the booth across from her mother at the Wok and Roll, her favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Just consider it an early birthday gift,” Grace replied as she glanced up from the menu.

“So, how are things with you and Cliff?” Maryellen asked. She didn’t bother with the menu because she ordered the same thing every time. She really should try something other than the chicken hot sauce noodles, but couldn’t make herself do it. The small family-owned restaurant ordered the thick rice noodles from the International District in Seattle. Maryellen could slurp up those noodles every day, she enjoyed them so much.

Her mother set aside the menu and there was such a depressed look on her face that Maryellen was shocked. “Mom?”

Smiling was clearly an effort. “I’ve given up on Cliff,” Grace said matter-of-factly.

“You don’t mean that.” Maryellen reached across the table and squeezed her mother’s hand.

“I do. In reality, I don’t have any choice.”

“No.” Maryellen couldn’t believe it. “I thought you were going to fight for him. What happened?”

Grace told her about the night of their big dinner date. She’d since learned from the veterinarian, who’d come into the library, that Midnight had survived. Hearing this from someone other than Cliff only seemed to increase her mother’s discontent with the on-again/off-again relationship.

Maryellen understood Grace’s frustration. Her mother had been so hopeful about this dinner; it was going to be a new beginning for her and Cliff. And then the evening had turned out to be such a disappointment.

“It was more than Cliff dealing with Midnight. I understand the stallion was in a life-threatening situation. That I could have accepted. But Cliff had obviously forgotten he’d even asked me out to the ranch. He seemed so…indifferent. My being there meant nothing to him. In fact, he seemed grateful to get out of having dinner with me.”

“Cliff’s not like that.”

“Normally I’d agree with you,” her mother said, “but I was there, Maryellen. I’ve learned to trust my instincts and that was the way I felt. Much as I don’t want to believe it, I know I’m right.”

Maryellen hated to see this relationship end, especially since Grace had worked so hard to win Cliff back. Until now, Maryellen had found him to be thoughtful and sensitive to her mother—far more than her own father had ever been. “You mean to say that after two weeks Cliff hasn’t even tried to phone?” she asked, incredulous.

Her mother shrugged. “He left messages a couple of times.”

“Well?” Maryellen looked at her sternly. “Did you return his calls?”

Her mother’s smile was sad. “Olivia thinks I should, too, but I can’t.” She sighed so dejectedly that Maryellen yearned to hug her and reassure her.

“Why
not?
” Maryellen really didn’t understand this.

She recognized from the stubborn way her mother shook her head that Grace wouldn’t call him. “Olivia says I’m a fool not to, but Maryellen, you have to realize how demeaning it was, how awful I felt—it’s hard to explain. Sad as it is to admit, I don’t think Cliff’s capable of getting beyond what happened with Will.” She paused; she’d never told her daughters the whole story, but Maryellen had pieced it together. “As far as he’s concerned, I committed the one sin he can’t forgive. He’d like things to be different, he might even want us to be together, but something inside him is incapable of forgiving me for what I did.”

Maryellen disagreed. “You’re wrong. He wouldn’t have phoned if that was the case.”

Grace shook her head again. “I’m sure Cliff regrets what happened, but there’s no need to drag this out any longer. I doubt he’ll phone again and after some soul-searching, I’ve decided that’s fine.”

Her mother might have talked herself into that decision, but Maryellen didn’t believe she was fine with it at all. The very first time she’d met Cliff and seen him with her mother, Maryellen had felt they were meant to be together. “Do you remember when I was pregnant with Katie?” Maryellen asked.

“Of course.”

“I was convinced I didn’t need Jon and that I could raise the baby on my own. Remember?”

A smile touched her mother’s eyes. “You were so determined to prove it.”

“Yes, well…It was easy enough to think I could do every
thing by myself
before
Katie was born, but afterward…it was a different story.” Never would she have imagined that one tiny baby could be so demanding. Most nights Maryellen had only managed to sleep in twenty-or thirty-minute stretches—if at all. A rash of ear infections kept Katie up at night screaming in pain. Thankfully Jon had insisted on being part of his daughter’s life and wanted to share the responsibility of raising her. Maryellen had quickly seen that Katie needed him, and so did she. “The similarity, Mom, is that I was so sure about everything—and I was wrong. Maybe you are, too.”

As Grace began to reply, Elaine, the owner’s wife, came for their order and predictably Maryellen chose her chicken hot sauce noodles. Grace asked for Wor Wonton Soup.

When Elaine had left their table and gone back to the kitchen, the restaurant door opened and in walked Cliff Harding.

Maryellen leaned toward her mother. “Don’t look now, but Cliff just came in.”

Grace stiffened. “Did he notice us?”

There wasn’t time to answer. Cliff walked directly over to their table and smiled down at both women.

“Hi, there,” Maryellen said, raising her hand. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

He acknowledged her, and removed his Stetson as he turned toward her mother. “Grace,” he said with a curt nod.

“Hello, Cliff.” Her mother’s voice was calm, and she kept her eyes trained straight ahead.

Maryellen admired her poise in this awkward situation. She watched as Grace slowly glanced up and offered Cliff the scantest of smiles.

“There must be a problem with your answering machine,” he said. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”

“Would you care to join us?” Maryellen asked, ignoring the daggers her mother was shooting at her.

“Grace?”

Her mother hesitated only briefly. “By all means.” She looked at her watch as if to gauge how much of her lunch hour was left. “I’ll need to leave in a few minutes, anyway.”

“Nonsense,” Maryellen challenged. “We ordered no more than three minutes ago.”

Cliff sat at the end of the booth, setting his cowboy hat on the empty space next to Grace.

“It’s a little early for you to be having lunch, isn’t it?” her mother asked pointedly.

Cliff smiled wryly. “The truth is, I drove by and saw you and Maryellen in the window. I figured if you weren’t going to answer my phone calls, the best thing to do was talk to you in person.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorrier than you know about that night,” he said with sincerity.

So Maryellen was right. Cliff knew what he’d done and was trying to make amends.

“I was hoping you’d be willing to give me another opportunity.” His eyes pleaded with Grace. “I’d still like you to come out to the ranch for dinner,” he said in a rush.

Grace seemed to waver. “I—I don’t know.”

Maryellen wanted to shake her mother. “I’m sure she’d enjoy that very much,” she said firmly and ignored the kick as her mother’s shoe connected with her shin.

Maryellen nearly laughed aloud at the shuffling of their feet beneath the table.

In the meantime, Elaine brought Cliff a teacup and a menu. He accepted the tea, but declined lunch.

The small interruption was followed by an uncomfortable
silence. “When would you like Mom to come over?” she asked.

“Maryellen!” Her mother’s protest was accompanied by a glare. “I’m sure Cliff has more important things to attend to than making me dinner.”

“I’d like to do it,” he countered, a smile twitching at the edges of his mouth.

“What date were you thinking of?” Maryellen was finding pleasure in this. It was a fitting turnabout, considering all the times Grace had tried to match her up after her divorce. She’d resented it back then, never suspecting that the day would come when she’d play matchmaker for her own mother.

“Thanksgiving,” Cliff said.

That astonished them both, and they stared at him.

“Thanksgiving,” Grace repeated softly. “I’m sorry, I already have an invitation.” She sent a triumphant look in Maryellen’s direction.

“To my house,” Maryellen said. Feeling she needed to explain the situation to Cliff, she added, “Kelly’s going to be at her in-laws’, so Mom was planning to join Jon, Katie and me.”

“Aren’t you flying out to be with Lisa?” Grace asked.

“Lisa was here earlier in the year,” Cliff said, and of course Grace knew that. “I thought I’d stay home. I don’t pretend to be much of a cook, but I can probably manage a turkey and fixings.”

Maryellen watched the lowering of her mother’s guard. No matter how hard Grace tried to convince herself the relationship was over, she couldn’t do it. In a matter of minutes, her resolve was visibly crumbling.

“I appreciate the invitation,” her mother said, her eyes warm with longing, “but I’m already committed to my daughter.”

“Mom, it’s all right, really. Jon and I won’t mind.”

“Nonsense,” Cliff said quickly. “I was hoping Maryellen, Jon and the baby would come, too.”

Grace met Maryellen’s eyes.

Maryellen felt a sense of satisfaction steal over her. “I’ll have to check with Jon, of course, but I imagine he’d enjoy the opportunity
not
to cook this Thanksgiving.”

“Then you’ll both be joining Cal and me,” Cliff said, as he got to his feet. He reached for his hat and when he smiled, it seemed to Maryellen that there was a new lightness in his expression. His habitual look was one of gravity and she’d rarely seen this kind of…elation on his face before.

She noticed that her mother was smiling, too.