Finding Abigail (31 page)

“This is cool,”
I admitted as the people started stomping their feet in time to “We Will Rock
You” playing on the loud speakers. I joined in stamping my sneakers against the
wooden planks—thump thump thump thump...thump thump! The stomps echoed through
the arena along with the music.

“I knew you’d
like it,” he whispered in my ear, and a tingle shot through me as his hot
breath caressed my skin. Surprised by my reaction, I moved away from him,
leaving a space between us. He didn’t stop me, but his gaze was making me
nervous.

I needed the
space to figure out why he had done that, and why he had said we were a couple
at the bar. There was a look in his eyes as I watched him, I had noticed a few
times in the last month that had me turning away to look straight ahead at the
ice.

“Anna.” He
moved closer, closing the gap I had created. His tone was low and husky. His
voice was normally deep and sexy but when he lowered it like that, it sounded
like a mating call, making my insides turned to mush. Pushing those thoughts
away, I focused on the game. I didn’t want to hear what he was about to say,
and I was saved when the Cougars skated out onto the ice. Noah stood up along
with many others, and started booing the opposing team.

The
boos
turned to cheers as the Mallards rushed out, skating around the rink doing
practice shots.

I found myself
getting carried away by the excitement. At first when the Cougars scored, I
would sit while Noah and our neighbors would stand up and boo, or when the
Mallards got a goal they would do a celebratory dance in the stands. But I soon
found myself joining them, giving high fives to strangers, something I had
never done in my life. By the end of the night, I knew that the person sitting
next to me was in his fifties, and worried that his grandson wouldn’t get into
college. He talked constantly, telling me most of his problems, even that he
needed a new lock for his front door. I nodded and made soothing sounds when
appropriate, I felt like a bartender. Between bouts of complaining, he would
stand up and pound his fist in the air with a
Wahoo
.

My throat was
sore as we left the stands. All of our spirits were high from the win.

In the car Noah
and I talked about the game. It was close, but in overtime the Mallards scored
the winning goal. Noah cheered all over again as I tried to concentrate on the
road. He yanked off his jersey and twirled it in the air. Thankfully he was wearing
a denim button-down underneath. All the beer he drank was catching up to him
and he was falling asleep by the time I pulled into his driveway.

“Noah, wake up,
I can’t carry you.” I poked him in the shoulder.

His head was
resting on the window. He opened one vivid blue eye and smiled. “Hi, Anna,” he
whispered.

“Hi. Wake up,
you’re home, and I can’t lift you.” I climbed out of the Jeep and stepped over
to his door, and pulled. He finally got the hint, and stumbled out of the car
as I held him under his shoulders for support.

He leaned his
head on my shoulder and twisted around to stare into my eyes. “I have so much
fun with you.”

“I know, you
said that before. I have fun with you too.”

“You do?” His
face took on a look of shock. We reached the steps, and I pushed him up. He
leaned on the porch railing.

“Of course, now
which key is it?” I sifted through the key ring, the keys jingling in my hand.

“Let me see.”
He leaned in close, reaching for them, but instead of taking them out of my
hands, he shoved me into the wall of the house. The image of Nick flashed in my
mind, and I closed my eyes bracing for the pain. It didn’t come. “You’re so
pretty, Anna.” His voice was a soft caress, no longer slurring his words. I
opened my eyes to see him lean forward, placing his hands on either side of my
face before touching his lips to mine.

My mind went
blank. So much had happened in the last few seconds; one moment I was trying to
open the door, then I was terrified he would turn into Nick, and now he was
kissing me. I couldn’t keep up, my head was spinning. The kiss was gentle at
first, but soon erupted to a volcanic passion I had never felt in my life. I
was confused by what was happening, and that it had happened in the first
place, but one thing was for sure, he was a great kisser. His lips were soft
and smooth, his tongue dancing against mine creating sensations I had never
felt before. He tasted of beer and smelled of spice and oak. His hands were
warm as they moved softly down my arms to guide me to the door. Pulling away,
only to take the keys from me, no longer drunk, he turned the knob.

He kissed me
again inside, the sensations now turned to need, guiding me to his bedroom. I
hadn’t been touched this way in so long I needed it. No I craved it—him—to
touch me, to make me feel.

Once I realized
where he was leading us, fear washed over me like a bucket of ice water. I
couldn’t do this, no matter how badly I wanted it. “No, I can’t.” I shoved him
away; he wobbled a bit, leaning against the sofa.

“Why?” he
asked, staring intently, a look of longing burning in his eyes.

I felt guilty
instantly, but I just couldn’t do this. “Because, I don’t want to ruin what we
have.”

He smiled, his
eyes glazed, showing me that he wasn’t as sober as I thought. “I could only
make it better.”

“Come on, Noah,
it’s late, go to bed.”

“Want to join
me? I could rock your world.” His smile was cocky, his eyes flashed with need.

Wow, I hadn’t
had an offer like that since Jimmy Jacobs asked me to jump the bush in seventh
grade. I chose to ignore his comment. “Are you okay? Or do you need help before
I leave?”

“I’m fine,” he
slurred, starting to unbutton his shirt, the sting of rejection showing on his
face. His fingers fumbled, unable to do it. He sighed giving up, then staggered
to his bedroom. Once he was inside, I heard a crash.

Rushing into
the room, I saw him sprawled on the floor beside a broken bedside lamp. I
grabbed his arm and pulled. After a few attempts, I finally managed to get him
on the bed and under the covers. As I pulled the blanket over him, he
whispered, “Anna, I love you,” before falling asleep.

Oh shit
. My heart plummeted. My new life that I cherished was now ruined.
How
was I supposed to face him,
I thought as I let myself out of his house, and
into mine.

Once inside the
cottage, I ran a bath, soaking inside the tub. I tried to think of a way to fix
this. Maybe I could ignore it, and he wouldn’t bring it up again. But what if
he did? I could move. Yeah, that’s a brilliant Idea, where would I go?

I knew I was
being ridiculous, but hearing that Noah loved me even if he didn’t mean it
really freaked me out. I counted on him to be my friend, I felt normal around
him, and now I didn’t know how to feel. I couldn’t have a relationship with
him. That was out of the question. And I couldn’t move. I didn’t know what the
hell to do, so I decided to postpone the problem.

The next
morning I copied my book. I had finished the first draft, last week and had
started the rewrites. I was going to go to Martin to find a library and somehow
send it to Debbie. It would probably take all day, and if it didn’t, I would
find something else to do. I decided last night that the only way to solve my
problem was avoid it. What else was there? Act like an adult and face the
situation head on?
Ha! No thanks.

I found the
library right next to city hall. It was an old red brick building, lined with
windows. The maple trees that grew in front and to the side were just turning
red, brown and yellow. Vines grew up the side of the building, giving the
appearance that it had grown from the earth, instead of being built. Once
inside the musty-smelling building, sitting at a computer cubby, I took out my
things. Turning the computer on, I created an email account under the name of
Steve Brody. He was a mystery novelist, and a client of Debbie’s. If Nick
looked in her email he wouldn’t notice anything strange about Steve sending
Debbie pages.

In the body of
the email I wrote simply:
Debbie, attached are the pages you asked for, Steve
.
Then I attached my file with the finished book. I sent a quick note with the
chapters, inside the file.
Debbie, please don’t send an email back unless
you write to Steve. I’m okay, tell my family in person. I love and miss you all.
Don’t tell Brian.

I sent the
email, wishing I could have written more. God, I missed them so much, I had
such a great life now, I wouldn’t risk losing it for the world. I just had to
have hope that one day, and I wasn’t sure how or when, that I would see my
family again. Maybe Nick would move on, and Debbie could somehow let me know.
Not that I wanted him to abuse another innocent girl. I just wanted him to
forget me.

Since it didn’t
take me long to send the emails, I decided to work from here. I didn’t want to
get home until dark. I thought I’d stay the day and get take out Chinese for
dinner. That was what Shimmer Lake was lacking—good takeout. When I got home
hopefully I could go straight to bed. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do this
for long, but I knew I wasn’t ready to face Noah right now.

When I arrived
home at about ten, I glanced at Noah’s. The house was dark, with a just the
glow from the TV. That usually meant that he had fallen asleep on the couch. I
sighed with relief, put the key in the lock, pushed the door open, and
screamed.

Pity Party

It was dark in
the living room, but I could see the shadow of a man lounging in my favorite
armchair. Panic threatened to choke me. All I could think was that Nick had
found me. I spun around, about to make a dash for the door when he spoke.
“Anna.” Noah’s voice stopped me in my tracks. Shit! Thank God it wasn’t Nick,
but he wasn’t the only one I was avoiding right now.

“Jesus Christ,
Noah, what the hell are you doing? Trying to scare me to death?” I was holding
my heart, which was jumping out of my chest.

His arm
stretched out, turning on the lamp beside him, illuminating his face, which was
hard, his eyes filled with worry. He was wearing worn jeans and a navy
sweatshirt. His hair was ruffled as though he had been running his hand through
it in frustration. “Where were you?” His voice was strained, etched with worry.
My mind went to a dark place, of a different time, a different man, sitting in
a dark room waiting for me. I blinked, pushing my dark thoughts away.

Suddenly
feeling guilty, I looked away from him, tossing my bag on the couch, then
started to busy myself by hanging up my coat. “I went to Martin for the day. I
had some things to take care of. Why?”

“I’ve been out
of my mind with worry.”

I glanced at
him as I stood in front of the coat rack, my arms crossed, hiding my shaking
hands. Anxiety threatened to stir; the scene was too familiar. “You were
worried about me? That’s ridiculous, I’m a grown woman.”

Even from this
distance I could see him frown. “I was more worried that you left without
saying goodbye. Or who or whatever you’re running from, found you. I have been
driving around all day searching.” He ran his hand down his face and sighed. A
sign of relief or agitation, I couldn’t tell. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me
were going to Martin?” Judging by the tone of his voice I’d guess agitation.
Again, I flashed to a different man, dark eyes cold, as he spat hateful words
at me.

I had to stop
thinking of Nick. Yes, the scene was familiar, but unlike Nick, Noah was
worried for me. He knew I was running from something and I had left for the
full day without letting him know. I didn’t blame him for being angry. He
looked like he had had a rough day. And it was my fault, because I was too
scared to face him.

Although I knew
I was in the wrong, my pride would not let me show it. Instead, I stood with my
hand on my hip, irritation spiking. I felt the need to defend myself. Maybe it
was the guilt. I hated feeling that way, when I knew what I was doing was
right. I needed to keep my distance. “Because I’m not a child, and you’re not
my father.”

He shook his
head, his lips pressed tightly together. “No, I’m not your father, but I am
someone who cares about you.” His words reminded me of the ones he murmured
last night right before he drifted off. I turned my head, looking out the
window I couldn’t face him, those words hung in the air between us. The last
time I was told them my life was turned upside down. My chest ached at the
thought. “That’s it, isn’t it, you left today because you were avoiding me.”

I stared at
him, my face a blank mask. He was standing now, gazing at me with tortured
eyes, making my heart ache.
Don’t fall for it
, I reminded myself. “Don’t
be stupid. I told you, I had errands to run.” I wanted my voice to be strong,
convincing him that I didn’t care, but instead they were soft, almost a
question, emphasizing my confusion. I only hoped he didn’t notice.

He shook his
head again and pointed at me, the action was accusatory. “You’re upset because
I said I loved you, and you were afraid I’d mention it, or tell you again.
That’s why you left for the day, to avoid me. I’m right, aren’t I?”