Franklin was hesitant to answer her questions at first, but she seemed to be making a breakthrough and he didn’t want to discourage her progress. He told her that she’d become worse than his mother had ever been. He described how the kids were afraid to talk to her on the phone because she always seemed unhappy and they complained that she was too needy and demanding. He told her that the kids hated the woman she was becoming, and how they often reminisced about the way she was when they were growing up. They tried to understand how and why she was becoming someone so different, but they couldn’t fathom the changes in her personality. He explained how disappointed he was by her lack of concern in her physical appearance, and how he blamed himself for some of the problems she encountered. “You were a beautiful woman Anne, and you still would be if you spent a few minutes on yourself,” he told her at one point.
Anne told him just how devastated she’d been over the divorce, and how much it still hurt. She’d hated him for a while before realizing that she still loved him, though she was finally no longer in love with him. She apologized for neglecting him and pushing him away, and for treating him like a handyman. She’d never meant for him to think she didn’t love him, she just wasn’t able to show him how she felt. She asked him how Jason and Alex were, telling him that Jason wouldn’t answer her calls. When Franklin asked what had caused her breakthrough, she described Merle and the brutally honest things he’d said to her at the blood drive. Franklin was impressed with any man that could get Anne to see the light, especially so suddenly and quickly. He was tempted to tell Anne that she
should start seeing the man, b
ut he knew that would be pushing it. He doubted Anne would ever date, let alone remarry.
When they finally ended their conversation, Anne didn’t hesitate before saying, “Franklin, thank you so much for listening to me. I miss you, and I’ll always love you deep down. How could I not? You gave me four beautiful children, and some wonderful years together. I’m still so sorry.”
“Anne, I’ll listen to you anytime if you want to really talk. I love you too, but I think you knew that.” They both knew that they were no longer in love with each other, but after nearly twelve years of suffering through loss and hate, and six years of being divorced; they’d finally become friends again, able to accept that they could still appreciate what they’d once been to each other.
Chapter Nineteen
Jason spent the weekend with Alex, forcing her to stay in bed and rest. He rented movies and cooked her favorite foods, trying to keep her calm and relaxed. He stayed in bed next to her, ignoring his mother’s phone calls. Alex stopped spotting, but Jason wasn’t taking any chances. She was taking at least a few days or more off work, and her professors were willing to let her work online for the time being, sending her the notes and assignments through her email. Jason was leaving his laptop with her so she wouldn’t need to sit at a desk, and he was tempted to ask his sisters to take turns sitting with her while he was at work, but he knew the kids would get irritable at his place. He didn’t have toys or anything for them to play with. He settled for her promise that she wouldn’t get out of bed unless she had to for at least a few more days.
Monday morning Jason’s secretary, Stacy, announced that an Anne Stafford-Davis was on hold on line one. Jason told her to inform Anne that he was unavailable for consultation. After lunch Stacy told him she was on the line again. Jason was preparing to have Stacy tell his mother that he wasn’t available, when it occurred to him that she would just start calling the house and upset Alex. Reluctant to take the chance that she might wake Alex or upset her somehow, he told Stacy to patch the call through.
“Hello?”
“Jason, it’s Mom.”
“Mom, stop calling. I don’t want to hear from you right now. Don’t call my house, either. Alex is on bed rest and the last thing she needs is to rush to the phone just to hear your voice on the other end.” Jason wasn’t going to give her a chance to start ranting and raving. He didn’t have the patience for it anymore. He had nothing to say to her right now. He was still too angry with her to be civil and he didn’t want to make things worse.
“But Jason,” Anne pleaded, desperately. She wanted to tell him how she’d realized that she was wrong. She’d behaved terribly and she wanted to make it up to him and to Alex. The poor girl was on bed rest so soon? Franklin hadn’t mentioned that. Anne prayed she’d be all right; she’d blame herself if something happened to the baby.
“Bye Mom.” Jason said, hanging up abruptly. He couldn’t stand to hear his mother’s voice. Not while Alex was in bed, the baby’s life in the balance. True, the doctor thought that rest would solve the problem, and didn’t seem overly concerned, but to Jason it was a big deal. This was
his
child, not just some random kid. His baby and the love of his life were on the line. He refused to put them more at risk. His mother wasn’t worth it to him right now. If she called and upset Alex things would go very badly.
Alex was so delicate and fragile. He shuddered to think what might happen if his mother were to call and start venting on Lexi. He could almost see her doubling over in pain. They’d been walking at the mall, talking about his mother when the spotting started. She’d turned ghostly white and whispered frantically that she was bleeding. Jason had taken her right to the hospital. Even with the assurances of the doctor and nursing staff, Jason was still reluctant to let Alex stress herself unduly.
Anne stared at the receiver in her hand. He’d hung up on her without even giving her a chance to apologize. Anne wept. Jason wasn’t going to listen to a thing she had to say, and she wouldn’t dare call Alex. She couldn’t take the chance that Alex might get too emotional. Oh the poor child! It was all Anne’s fault. Anne forced herself to calm down. She was at work; she couldn’t afford to start crying now. She’d spent all day Sunday cleaning the house. It wasn’t finished, but it looked fantastic compared to how it had looked the last five years. It amazed her how much filth she’d missed in the last five years. Her cleaning had left much to be desired. She never threw anything in the garbage, the closets were so full the doors didn’t want to close, and she could barely step into the office.
Now the clutter in the closets was gone. She’d thrown out everything she didn’t use. She separated all the pictures from the kids’ childhood, even the ones with Franklin in them, and set them aside for each child to take home. She emptied the pantry and the freezers, and cleaned all the garbage out of the office. She’d even started pulling out the Christmas decorations. She was bound and determined to have a Christmas celebration at her house this year.
Anne very carefully unwrapped the precious deco
rations, stored for the last six
years. Each one had a special memory. The precious moments decorations were gifts from Franklin; he’d gotten her one every year since their marriage. She found the kids’ homemade decorations and the little first Christmas decoration they had for each child. She remembered how Franklin would take the kids traipsing through the woods behind the house to find the perfect Christmas Tree and bring it home. Then the kids would ever so carefully unwrap the decorations on Thanksgiving and put them on the tree while she and Franklin sat on the couch holding hands and drinking eggnog. Fo
r once Anne’s memories weren’t t
inged with anger and regret, just a bit of sadness and wonderment at how wonderful it used to be. Maybe someday she could find that solace and happiness again in the arms of another.
Anne worked later than usual, finishing up some filing before heading home. She stopped by the store to pick up a loaf of bread and some other groceries to replenish her recently emptied pantry before turning down the backcountry road that led to her house. Corington was a dangerous road at night, especially in the fall and winter when snow and ice covered the road. Anne was dead on her feet from staying up so late talking to Franklin, so she drove even more slowly than usual. The last thing she needed was to have another accident. The roads were slick, and the darkness seemed to envelop the area around Anne’s headlights. Suddenly, snow started to fall, and Anne was tempted to pull over, just to take a few minutes to enjoy watching the flakes float gracefully to the earth. She hadn’t enjoyed such simple pleasures in years and it seemed appropriate to do so now, when she felt as though she was finally starting over; but fear of getting rear ended prevented her from stopping and she continued on slowly, content to watch the flakes fall on her windshield.
Anne scanned the road ahead of her carefully. She could have sworn she’d seen taillights a few minutes ago, but they were gone now. There weren’t many houses on this road, and Anne doubted that the person ahead of her lived in any of them. They’d been driving relatively quickly. Not speeding, but fast
er than Anne, and she watched as
they pulled further and further ahead of her until they seemingly disappeared. Anne shook her head. She shouldn’t be driving. She was obviously too tired to be on the road. If it weren’t for the fact that she would probably freeze, she’d pull over and take a short nap on the side of the road.
Suddenly, lights flashed brightly in front of Anne. She could tell they were at least two to three miles ahead of her. It was either a plow of some kind, or emergency flashers, she couldn’t tell which. She drove cautiously forward, afraid of hitting someone or something. If it was a plow, it looked to be awfully far off the side of the road. As she neared the lights she realized it was a relatively large pickup truck that must have slid into the ditch. The driver had put on the four-ways. She didn’t see anyone outside the vehicle until she was passing it. She gasped and pressed firmly on her brake, causing her car to fishtail. She released the brake and brought the car back under control, turning around in the empty road and driving back to the truck. She passed it again, doing another U-turn in the road before pulling over just behind where the truck had slid off the road. Anne took a deep breath and climbed from her car. “Can I help you?” she yelled down to the driver, almost afraid he’d say yes.
Chapter Twenty
Merle was pissed. He’d left work and gone to Jim and Jennifer’s for dinner. Jennifer begged him to stay and visit for a while and he couldn’t refuse her. She was such a dear heart. So he’d stayed in town later than usual. He was a few miles from home when a deer ran out in front of him, and he hit his brakes. He managed to miss the deer, but before he knew what was happening, his truck started to fishtail uncontrollably. He was able to keep her on the road for a good thirty feet before his front tire went over the lip of the shoulder and he lost control. He landed in the ditch, and no manner of rocking was getting him out. His front bumper was badly dented, and one tire hung in midair over a pile of mud and muck. He was in the process of shoveling himself out when some idiot in a small car nearly went into the ditch in front of him. Then another car passed on the opposite side of the road. Merle couldn’t believe no one had pulled over to offer assistance. Not that he needed any, but still, he usually offered.
The sound of her voice startled Merle, causing him to jump, and he fell flat on his back in the muck. Snow was falling all around him as he lay on his back, his clothes soaking up the coldness, as he watched his breath make clouds in the air in front of his face. Surely
she
wouldn’t have pulled over. His luck couldn’t be that bad, could it? He hadn’t seen her since he’d walked out of the Red Cross on Saturday. He heard her call down to him again, this time her voice nearly frantic with concern.
Great, just great,
Merle groaned inwardly before calling, “I’m fine, thanks.” He tried to sit up but the mud sucked at his coat and no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn’t seem to budge. His legs were working just fine. He’d have to wiggle out of his coat. Damn. He’d freeze his ass off getting the truck out without his coat. Even the walk home might put him in the hospital. He was starting to work his arm out of his coat sleeve when he saw her above him. She looked lovely in the dim light. Her hair was up in some sort of weird braid that looked woven and she must have been wearing make-up because her eyes were vivid, even in the relative darkness. She reached down her hand to help him up. “I can’t move my hands,” Merle said gruffly, irritated by the woman’s presence and his reaction to her. What was he doing noticing that she looked particularly lovely? She was a witch.
“Are you injured?” Anne was worried. He’d fallen all of a sudden and didn’t get back up right away. She could tell he was squirming and she’d hurried down to his side, afraid he was hurt somehow. If he was having a heart attack she didn’t know what to do, but she would try to help him. Mostly he just seemed to be in a foul mood.