Fallen Too Far (22 page)

“What, another Pandora’s Project? Now waitaminnit Annik-” He slipped his arms into his suede jacket and helped her into hers.

“No, nothing like that. I'll just show you, okay?”

“Alright. I love surprises,” his voice became petulant, “but I hate the suspense.”

As they strolled, hand-in-hand through along the streets, he commented, “You know Annik, I think this is the first time I've ever walked through my neighborhood in all the years I've lived here.”

“You don't like to walk or is it that you're afraid of getting mugged?”

“Okay smartass, no, I just never think of it. I guess I'm usually too busy.”

They were about three or four streets away from Tom's home when Annik suggested “Let's go up here, I'd like to show you your surprise.”

“Oh Yeah. Almost forgot about that. I was surprised already. You chatting in Spanish with Maria. Where’re we going?”

“Just come along, Tom, it's just down this street.” She quickened the pace. She hadn't been back since they moved…

They stopped in front of a large home, an estate actually. A wrought iron fence surrounded the property with two stone pillars at the driveway entrance. The gates were open, and they looked up a driveway that was almost a football field in length, terminating in a circle before a manor sized home. She walked up the driveway, Tom in tow.

“You know the Grant family, Annik?” he asked. “What's going on?”

“Not very well. Just slightly.” She was staring at the home as they paced up the driveway. She stopped before it and slipped her arm around Tom's waist, pulling him close.

“See the window on the second floor? At the corner?”

“Sure. What about it?”

She turned her head to look into his eyes. “I used to sit on the window seat in that room and watch the stars and dream of my future.”

“What do you mean, honey?”

“This was the home I lived in when I came to Canada, Tom. We lived here for eight years.” She turned back to look at the house. “It got very big after Poppa died—there weren't any more parties. And man, were there parties! And then we had to sell…” A tear slid down her cheek remembering the good times.

“Wait a sec—you lived here? That's unbelievable.”

She shot Tom a look. “Unbelievable, huh? No, it's the truth. I lived here from when I was fourteen until I was twenty-two…” Her chin dropped to her chest. “Yes, unbelievable. But true…” She grabbed his hand and started to march around the side of the home.

Pulling Tom along she said, “There's a maple tree in the back of this house. It’s pretty big. When Poppa died I carved all of our names on it and the year.” They came around the side of the house, and in the backyard was a well tended, large maple tree, its leaves burning red.

She dropped his hand and ran to the tree. “See. Unbelievable?”

He walked up to the tree and peered at the bark. The carving was faded, but he could easily see “Poppa, Mamma + Annik 4 Ever” and a year more than ten years ago carved into the bark.

He turned and took her into his arms. “You never told me this,” he whispered. “You never told me how much you lost.” She began to sob in his arms. They stood there under the fiery red tree silently until her tears passed.

Holding his arms, she pulled back a bit and looked up at him. “I think it was how Maria and your sister looked at me, I guess. Like they thought I was some gold digger. I don't blame them—the age difference would make anyone wonder… I just felt like it was important for you to see.”

“I do, Annik, I really do.”

“Hello!” a voice called out from the back door of the home, “Can I help you with something?” Bill Grant was striding from the back door of his home, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Hi Bill,” called Tom. “Sorry for intruding, buddy.”

“Oh! Tom… Eldon, right? Hey, how ya doing? What's going on?”

“Oh…” Tom looked at Annik, “uh…”

Annik stepped forward, wiping her eyes. “Just a walk down memory lane Mr. Grant.” She took Tom's hand, and with her free one gestured to the maple tree. I-”

Bill Grant was no fool. He saw the names this young woman gestured to. “Excuse me,” he said, “is that you?” pointing to the names.

Nodding, “I'm Annik.”

“It's a wonderful home—it welcomed us, Annik, we've made many happy memoires here,” Bill said quietly.

Her eyes filled with tears again. “I'm glad, Mr. Grant. It’s a loving home. I was loved when I lived here.”

Bill nodded. “You must come in for tea then. I haven't had guests since my wife passed on a year ago. It was a great place for our kids to finish growing up, y'know. I really felt like I made it on the day we moved in… now… it's just me… and I'm gonna be selling it soon… without Lucy here, it's just not the same…” He hung his head.

Releasing Tom's hand, Annik took Bill in her arms, “I understand.” He bent his head down onto her shoulder. His breath hitched twice.

“Hey! Lookit me.” He said, pulling away, “getting all maudlin. So come on in.”

“Sorry, buddy, we're under a schedule. Can we take a rain check?” Tom said.

“Yeah, I guess… and maybe I'm not too good for company right now anyway… sure, anytime, Tom. You guys can see yourselves out? I think I gotta…” and he walked back to the house leaving them under the tree.

“He still misses her,” Annik said, watching the man walk away.

“Yeah. Hang on a sec, okay?” Tom trotted after Bill, and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Bill… can I stop buy on Monday night? I'll bring the beer? Maybe watch some baseball?”

Bill brightened. “Sure! That'd be great. I hate the Yankees. Always in the playoffs…”

“Great! Lemme ask you—you really thinking of selling?”

“Yeah. I haven't listed it yet, I'm doing that on Monday morning. A real estate guy's coming by at eleven.”

“Hey, do me a favor. Get an appraisal, but don't list yet, okay? It might mean something for you.”

“Sure…” Bill looked past Tom at Annik standing at the tree, her hand stroking the names she’d carved. “You that sweet on her?”

“You have no idea, man.”

He shot Tom a look. “Yeah, Tom, I do. And my idea's name was Lucy. I'll see ya Monday, buddy. Bring Coor's.” With a wistful smile, Bill went back into to his empty house, but not as sad as he was a moment ago.

Tom returned to Annik. She took his arm and they headed back to his home, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they returned, they ate a light lunch. She had convinced him to go with her on her weekly visit to the Nursing Home. Auntie May would be so happy for her.

****

“So you’re Tom? I finally get to meet you.” May peered up at Tom from her wheelchair. She turned her head and said to Annik, “You’re lucky I’m not fifty years younger, I’d give you a run for your money with him. Maybe I still could.” She turned back to look at Tom again, smiled and winked.

“Auntie May, behave yourself. I don’t want you to steal my Tom. Look, you’re making him blush.” Annik patted the old woman’s shoulder.

“May, as pretty as you are, I have my hands full with Annik. She’s got me out walking for blocks and blocks, entertaining friends until the wee hours of the night. I can hardly keep up with her.” He eased into a chair near May’s bed.

Annik stood next to May, resting her hand on her shoulder. Finally May had met Tom, after all May’s advice to let him know how she felt. And May was almost like family.

The morning sun had given way to thunderstorms, preventing a visit to the garden outside. Instead they wheeled May to a large common room for residents and their families. They sat with her for a couple of hours. May told them stories from her youth, making them chuckle. She wouldn’t stop flirting with Tom.

When they were driving back to Tom’s place she realized she wasn’t feeling the blues she always felt after visits with Auntie May.

Chapter 17

She bounced out of bed the next morning. She was excited. Not afraid though, considering how much was riding on this day. This Day of Days… if the morning meeting went well, she could hang up her… her what? Well, whatever it was, she'd hang it up, the way a retired gunslinger from the Old West would hang up his firearms and turn to a new life.

And if it didn't? What then? She would figure it out. As she always had. Except that this time, Tom was at her side helping.

She slipped out of the bed and headed to the bathroom, taking care not to disturb him. Once in there, she sank to her knees. The toilet served as her prie dieu. Nevertheless, she clasped her hands in supplication.

“Oh Poppa, Mamma, watch over me,” Annik Dandridge breathed. “Oh God, if you're there, watch over me… I truly don't know what I'll do if this doesn't happen. I'm trying to catch up, but …” She had nothing left.

“Ahhh… child! What would love do?” Poppa's voice in her head. Poppa's lessons.

“I don't know.” she breathed. Her knees rested on the carpet of the toilet liner. “I don't know.”

“Annik… you always knew when you had to.” Mamma's voice? “You always chose well, Annik. We're so proud of you. We always were, and always will be…”

Was that her head hoping? Was that a message from beyond? She shook her head. Did it matter?

No. Not at all. It was comforting. She stood up and exhaled, feeling better. Not as afraid. Yeah, she'd figure out the next part if it didn't go as she needed. She was smart; she was strong. She kissed her fingertips and raised them above her head.

“Thank you Mamma, thank you Poppa,” she sighed. Whether to their memory or their spirits, she didn't know. She did know they were there when she needed them to be—whether they were ghosts or an imprint; they gave their daughter strength when she needed it.

Love is eternal.

She left the bathroom and went downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee. Again, the familiarity, the routines of preparing the coffee pervaded. While the coffee was dripping, she found, no surprise, croissants in the freezer and micro waved them. She put together a service tray, butter, jam, cream and sugar. Going back upstairs, she smiled, happy.

A morning of hope.

It was truly, wonderful to be alive. This here, this now, was wonderful.

Tom was sitting up in bed. Those blue eyes, that smile and the muscles on his bare chest, under the skim of dark hair. God, he was good looking.

“Good morning.” They said in unison. She brought the tray and they sipped their coffee in silence.

“Big day, Annik,” he said. “How’re you doing?”

“I'm good, Tom, I was just thinking, that this, here, now, no matter what happens later, is wonderful. I have a man I love in front of me, and when we get down to it, isn't that all that matters?”

He rested his cup on the tray and stroked her cheek with his finger. “Sounds like you catch up fast, honey,” he said softly.

She looked away into space for a moment. “I had good teachers.”

“Wish I knew 'em.”

“Wish they knew you.”

They left the moment for what it was, enjoying their morning together; Annik sitting on the bed next to Tom's reclined body, both savoring being alive. And in love.

When they finished drinking their coffee, he got up. “Well, kiddo, let's get ready to ramify 'em, Addie!”

“What? Who's Addie?”

Over his shoulder, heading to the bathroom, he said, “A hell of a kid—Addie Pray—they made a movie about her.” He closed the bathroom door behind him and she heard him start his shower. Who the hell was Addie Pray? Nevermind.

He got dressed for the day at the office, while she sat on the bed, watching him.

‘Hey,” he said, buttoning his white shirt, “don't be shy—help yourself to anything that's here. ‘Mi casa est su casa’, yeah, my Spanish needs work. I'm going to have Marco, my driver take me in to the office. If you need to go anywhere, call him.” He jotted the phone number on a pad next to the phone on the night table. “I left you a set of house keys on the kitchen counter. We'll go over the alarm system tonight. That's it for domestic, honey. I'll see you in the office at ten to prep for the meeting.”

“No, I'll be there at eleven. The Vanderberg's will show up at eleven thirty; that's plenty of time, Tom.”

He looked at her. “Honey, you don't know how these things can go. We need to figure out fallback positions, walk away numbers, and set up a strategy. To tell you the truth, this kind of stuff is what we would have four or five meetings on, at two hours each, before meeting the principles.”

“Tom, I know you've got a lot more experience than me in this sort of thing, okay? But I know Helen and Barry. We'll get this together, trust me.”

He looked at her. “Okay, it
is
your deal. But we haven't talked about my numbers. So you have to know, baby, I'm not into it for more than two mil. That's my limit for purchase. And I have a budget of another mil for renovations. You okay with that?”

“With my two hundred thousand on top?”

“Well, yeah. What did you think?”

“Tom, you're putting three million dollars in this?”

“Yeah. I wish it was more. But that's what the numbers show is the max, honey.”

“Three million? Are you kidding me?” She jumped up and hugged him. “I was only looking for a little less than two.”

“Baby, that's not my number. I had my guys look at your plan, and they came up with three.” He held her close. “My heart says 'the sky's the limit', okay? If we're shy, I'll make up the difference, so don't sweat it.”