Riverbend (23 page)

Lee pointed to the pantry. “Yeah, and did you see that pantry? A man who does not cook would never have asked for some of the specifics in that pantry.”

Annie remained silent. Tempted as she was to talk about it, she would not tell them of the strange noises she heard at night or the hints he'd given of a tragic past. She would not betray Drake's secrets, even to the women closest to her. It was not her place to do so. She'd made a promise to him to keep his private life private and she would keep that promise, no matter how difficult.

Chapter Eighteen

THE KITCHEN WAS CLEAN,
everything put away in its proper place. The others were outside on the deck. Alder came running inside. “Guess what, Mom? Drake said we could have a fire in the outdoor fireplace. And he said he bought stuff to make s'mores.”

“He did?” she said, surprised.

Drake came in then, looking sheepish. “Is it all right? I should've asked you first.”

“Of course.” She glanced up at the clock. “Alder, are you ever going to get to bed at a decent hour this summer?”

“It doesn't matter, Mom. I can sleep in.”

Bella appeared, her face flushed. “Hey gang.”

“Hey Bella,” said Alder. “You like s'mores?”

“More than life itself.”

Alder ran back out the door to the deck. Drake was watching Bella, like a little boy peering through the glass of an aquarium at a creature both fascinating and frightening.

Bella plopped at the counter. “What else is there to drink?”

“Haven't you had enough?” asked Drake.

“Leave it be.” Bella flushed a deeper pink. “And last time I checked I was over twenty-one, not to mention I can handle my booze better than most men.”

The door to the deck opened and Ben came in, grinning when he saw Bella sitting there. “There you are.”

She smiled, big and wide and so beautiful it seemed to light the room as brightly as the July sun hanging low in the sky. “Are you following me?”

“To the ends of the earth,” said Ben.

Bella raised an eyebrow. “You're ridiculous. Anyway, I'm right here, so no need to go to the ends of the earth. There are s'mores. Can't pass that up.”

Ben offered her his arm. “Tommy's going to play for us. I'll give you half my fortune if you'd dance with me.”

“Even though I'm not wearing my swimsuit?” she asked, with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Don't get me wrong, I'd like nothing better than to watch your cute self sashaying around here all night wearing nothing but your tiny swimsuit. But I can picture it in my head, regardless of what you're wearing. Besides, you look beautiful in that dress.”

“How ‘bout you make me a martini?”

“I would love nothing more.”

“If I didn't know better I'd say you're actually being nice to me.”

He grinned. “One of us should be nice in this relationship.”

“Relationship? Is that what we're calling it?” she asked, slipping her arm through his as they walked outside.

“Just until we get married. Then I'll call you my wife.” Ben's voice faded as the door shut.

“What the hell was that?” asked Drake, almost growling. “Did they even notice we were standing here?”

Annie laughed. “Not a clue.”

A few minutes later, Bella found Annie in the empty kitchen, making a pot of coffee. “Annie, will you walk with me? I need to talk to you.”

“Of course.” They strolled through the garden, arm in arm, like schoolgirls might, or sisters, perhaps. The day was fading into evening now, sunlight like arms reaching out between the trees. The roses were in full bloom, red and yellow and soft pink, some with tightly closed buds, others in open cascades of soft petals. They
stopped near the white and pink rosebushes, and Bella withdrew her arm from Annie's to hold a bud between her fingers. “Such a strange thing,” she said, her voice soft and sad.

“What's that?” asked Annie.

“That Drake grows these roses. It's odd for a man who never gardened, never showed any interest in it.”

“He's out here every morning, tending to them.” Annie paused, looking towards the house. “Sometimes I see his lips moving, like he's talking to them.”

“Really? I wonder if he's talking to the roses or someone else?” Her small forehead wrinkled as she gazed at her hands. “Our mother loved roses. We had this little crap apartment with a tiny balcony and she planted a couple of roses in these pots out there and used to baby those things. One was red and one white. She always told us you couldn't have white roses unless your mother was dead.” She pointed towards the white rosebush at the end of the second row. “That one there is for our mother.”

“Bella, what is it? Did something happen?”

“He called.”

“Oh crap.”

Linking arms once again, they walked out to the edge of the yard where the grass ended and the steep decline began, their gaze directed at the exact point of the river's sharp bend. “I look at that every morning since I've been here,” said Bella. “And I think how my life's like that bend—you know, how coming here was like a sharp redirect in another direction.” She stopped, her voice catching. “You have no idea how many times I tell myself to start over but then there he is, always, drawing me back in.” She paused, pulling on her bottom lip, absent now of the red lipstick. “He's on his way here, driving up from California.”

“What? Here? Drake won't have it.”

“I know. I told him that. But I don't know if he heard me.” Bella looked over at her. “I feel stronger. Every day I've thought of him a little less. It's the river maybe, the way it teaches you your name. Or the stars at night or maybe the way the air feels on my skin when I'm running in the mornings. It's making me forget my other life. And him. I didn't think it was possible.” She smiled, glancing at the
house, where the men were gathered on the porch smoking cigars, the scent of their indulgence just a hint in the twilight's soft breeze. “And this Ben. He's so, alive.”

“Yes,” said Annie. “He certainly is.”

“It could be something. Don't you think?” Bella rested her head on Annie's shoulder as they continued to look at the river. The water moved there in a steady flow towards the Pacific Ocean, currents below the surface they could not see but were there nonetheless. “I haven't thought that about anyone but Graham for as long as I can remember.”

“Surely there have been others? Given where you live and what you do for a living?” asked Annie.

“There were. But I never allowed myself to go there. Always ridiculously devoted to Graham.”

Annie put her arm around Bella's small shoulders, holding her tight like she might Alder. “Forget him, once and for all. Give Ben a chance. See where it might go.”

“I think I just might.” Bella slipped her arm around Annie's waist. “You know all my sassy bravado stuff is all fake, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

“I've been lonely. I never knew that until I came here. Coming into this house every morning where you and Alder are, with hot breakfast and people laughing and you making a fuss over me and making things I like to eat. It's made me remember what it was like when my mother was alive. It's family.” She hesitated, with another glance towards the house, where Drake was sitting with the other men. “Drake and I haven't had that for a long time. It's brought him back from the dead. You do realize that, don't you?”

“No, I'm not sure I do.”

Bella brushed back several locks of brown hair that had fallen close to her eyes. “You and Alder being here matters very much.”

“I'm falling in love with him.” This utterance, this confession, came out soft, no louder than a whisper.

“I know you are.” Bella squeezed Annie's arm tight against her tiny waist. “I see the way he looks at you. It's not just you falling. I'm sure of it. But he might be the saddest of all men in a world of sad men.”

“I know. I tell myself that a thousand times a day. He's too good for me anyway. What would a man like him want with a woman like me?”

Bella put her hands on Annie's shoulders. “Let me tell you something. Listen carefully to this. You're a great person who had some shitty things happen to you and you fought back and made a good life for yourself and your son. There's no shame in that. Ever. Do you hear me?”

“I guess,” said Annie, fighting tears.

“You remind me of our mother. Drake said the same thing.”

This surprised her. “Really?”

“Yes. You're so gentle and sweet, always taking care of everyone else, feeding us and worrying about us with no concern for yourself. And yet, under all that you're as strong as they come. Drake would be a lucky man to have you. This sounds trite, but it's him, not you.” Bella paused, tousling her hair with her fingertips. “It's important to me you understand this. All right?”

Annie smiled. “All right.” Then, like the nightmares that plagued her, she remembered Marco. “I feel hunted.”

“Dammit, I know you do. I'd give anything to find him and string him up by his balls.”

“All 110 pounds of you stringing him up by the balls would be a sight.” And despite the seriousness of both their situations and the man they both loved sitting on his porch, tortured by the past, they laughed. And this was it, Annie thought, the only thing that could keep you from giving into the darkness—the love of other people and a moment of humor in the stillness of dusk under an expansive sky.

They turned towards the house, the scent of the men's cigars stronger now and yet as they passed the roses, their sweetness was there in the dimming day like the lingering scent of a woman's perfume long after she's left the room.

Mike built the fire, using pieces of neatly chopped wood stored in the small shed just off the deck. There was no detail of this home that had not been thought out in perfect detail, Annie thought as she watched the wood spark and come to life.

They all gathered on the deck. Sharon and Mike sat together on one end of the built-in benches that made a semi-circle in front of the fireplace; Bella and Ben sat on the other end. Annie and Drake were in the Adirondack chairs closest to the fireplace. Lee sat on the porch swing near the window, rocking a tired Ellie-Rose in her arms. Behind them at the table, Linus and Ellen were playing Scrabble, arguing occasionally about a word. Someone convinced Tommy to get his guitar, and while Drake helped Alder roast marshmallows on metal sticks and passed them around to whoever wanted one, Tommy sat on the side of the fireplace, tuning his guitar, the pluck of the strings ringing in the twilight. “Any requests?”

“Something romantic,” said Mike, nudging the fire with the steel poker. Sparks flamed in the dark. The fire grew taller and brighter.

“Yes,” said Sharon, never taking her eyes from Mike. “Something slow we can dance to.”

Mike turned from the fire, looking at her, smiling. “Yes, something we can dance to.”

Ben pulled a lock of Bella's hair. “See, I told you there'd be dancing.”

“Doesn't mean I'm dancing with you.”

“Oh, yeah, you are.” And with that, he pulled her to her feet. She squealed as they moved to the middle of the deck. Ben held her close and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.

Mike offered his hand to Sharon and they did the same, dancing close as Tommy began to play.

Tommy played song after song, slow country ballads and folk songs, some of his own work and covers of others. The evening grew darker. The stars appeared, first one in the northern horizon, and then one after another, until Annie, gazing upwards, saw they were close now, almost touchable, shards of light against the purple sky. Drake turned on a lantern for Ellen and Linus so they might continue their game. Ellie-Rose slept soundly now in Lee's arms. And Lee watched Tommy, the look on her face that could be read no
other way than
this is my man and I love him
. Alder, having gorged himself on s'mores, wandered inside and fell asleep on the couch, the copy of
Huck Finn
open on his chest.

Annie let Tommy's voice wash over her and she stared into the fire, trying hard not to wish. To want. Just for this. For someone to offer his hand and want her to dance with him. Life would not offer her this kind of love. She was not someone destined to find her person, her love. The love of her life was Alder. And she had these friends, this gang of misfits that ran together in a pack now. But still, there it was, so familiar, this gap that was an empty space longing for love, longing to be chosen. Stealing a glance at Drake as he added another log to the fire, she could not help but wonder what it would feel like to dance with him, to have his arms around her. But it was not to be. It must be accepted, this fate. She was not chosen. No one had chosen her and no one probably ever would. She must have sighed, because Drake looked over at her as he sat back down in his chair.