Anna Meets Her Match (8 page)

“You’re going to ruin your hearing,” Tansy said defensively.

“It’s
my
hearing. I’ll ruin it if I want to,” Anna snapped, aware that she was reverting to her sixteen-year-old self but unable to stop. “You have no right to touch things in
my
apartment!”

Tansy frowned sourly. Stomping to the door, she muttered, “Just once I’d like to have a normal conversation with you. Just once!”

As Tansy went out, Anna spun around and slapped the power button on the stereo with one hand, wrenching up the volume with the other. Anna was still heaving in angry breaths when the neighbors next door began to beat on the wall. Instantly, Anna lashed out by spinning the volume knob all the way up. Then, for some reason, Reeves came to mind. In a flash, she imagined him watching from afar, like God on high peering down from lofty realms. Anna turned down the volume, feeling foolish and immature and…sad.

After a moment, her raging heartbeat slowed, but the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach remained. She sat down at her drawing table and began ruthlessly “correcting” her work. After a long while, she sat back to take a critical view. It came as no surprise that the little girl in that ruffled pink skirt bore a decided resemblance to Gilli Leland.

“A
nna was at church this morning?” Odelia asked breathlessly, clapping her hands together. She barely missed catching the tips of her long, dangling earrings. They looked like bunches of grapes swaying above the dining table. “How wonderful! I’m sorry I missed her.”

Reeves forked a bite of omelet into his mouth—the aunties ate so-called “simple fare” on Sundays—and shook his head. “She didn’t stay for worship. She was just there to substitute for a teacher in the six-year-old department.”

Her fork poised in midair, Hypatia sighed. “I worry about that girl.”

“What girl?” Gilli asked, butter all over her face from the triangle of toast in her hand. “I know two girls, Elizbet and Mogumry.” She scrunched up her face, adding, “But I don’t know what one they are.”

Reeves smiled. “You must mean the twins I saw this morning.” Obviously, Gilli couldn’t tell them apart. Their mother surely had not named them Elizabeth and Montgomery, though. Had she?

“I meant Anna, dear,” Hypatia clarified for the child, adding mildly, “Don’t wipe your mouth on your sleeve. You’ll ruin your pretty blouse.”

“It gots ruffles,” Gilli announced proudly, holding out her arms.

“Say, ‘Yes, ma’am,’” Reeves coached, fixing her with a level look.

Defiantly, she bit off a huge chunk of bread instead, replacing the butter that she’d just wiped off her face with her sleeve. Reeves counted to ten, tamping down his temper as Gilli chewed, as soon as she swallowed, he leaned forward and removed the remaining bread from her plate.

“Yes, ma’am. Or we trade the ruffles for a plain T-shirt.”

Ruffles suddenly had taken on a monumental importance in Gilli’s life. Since this morning’s escapade, she had talked ruffles almost nonstop. She’d even insisted on wearing that white blouse when Reeves had helped her change out of her church clothes before lunch.

“Yes, ma’am,” she muttered.

Apparently hanging upside down by her knees to show off the ruffled bottoms of her tights had made her a minor celebrity with the three-year-old set, and so ruffles must now be the predominant feature of her wardrobe. Reeves still was not thrilled about that episode, but Gilli had been so happy since then that he couldn’t bring himself to lecture her on the subject. Besides, he reasoned, Anna was to blame, not Gilli.

“About Anna,” Odelia said thoughtfully, picking up the thread of the conversation. “I wonder why she doesn’t attend worship.”

Reeves put the bread back on Gilli’s plate. She snatched it up and took another big bite. “I believe it has to do with her grandmother,” Reeves revealed absently. “Anna said it would please Tansy too much if she went to worship.”

Hypatia frowned. “Surely she didn’t mean that.”

“Surely she did,” Mags muttered, “and who could blame her? You know how Tansy is. Let her think she’s won on one issue, she’ll try to run everything.”

“Well, it’s not right,” Hypatia pointed out. Reeves had
thought the same thing, but he wisely kept his mouth closed. He was glad of it when Hypatia said, “Someone has to speak to Anna about this.”

“Not that she would listen to us,” Odelia said innocently. “Why would a girl, er, young woman like her care what three old biddies like us might say?”

“I take issue with being called an old biddy,” Hypatia sniffed, “but you’re entirely right about the other. She needs to hear it from someone nearer her own age.”

Reeves shifted in his chair, uncomfortably aware where this was headed.

Mags pointed her knife at him. “Maybe you should do it, nephew. Maybe you could make Anna see what a mistake she’s making by not attending worship.”

Just because he had known it was coming didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Me?” he asked indignantly. “What makes you think she’d listen to me? Why should I be the one?”

Mags went back to cutting a slice of tomato with a steak knife. “If not you,” she asked, stabbing him straight through the conscience, “then who?”

Reeves stared at her for a good ten seconds as his own thought from that morning returned to pour salt into the wound. Bowing his head, he surrendered in silence. God didn’t have to crack his skull with a two-by-four. Ruffles and a steak knife were quite enough. He would say something as soon as the right moment presented itself. Now if only Anna would listen, but why should she?

He hadn’t exactly been amiable and personable with her. Most of the time he’d been downright rude. He was going to have to mend his ways, make friends with her, if that was possible. At the very least, he was going to have to be polite.

Okay, Lord, if that’s what You want, then You’re going to have to help me. Big time.

Pleased with the new fuel contract that he had just successfully negotiated, Reeves stepped up into the charming little bistro with the Director of Operations at his side. Their hard work had been rewarded with nice bonuses, and they’d decided to celebrate at Buffalo Creek’s most popular café. Considering that the morning had started with a telephone call from his ex, the day had definitely improved; yet, he couldn’t quite get that call off his mind.

Marissa had taken up residence in San Antonio and wanted, she’d said, to give him her new address. She had complained that she wasn’t earning enough to make ends meet and insisted that they needed to “rethink their divorce agreement.” Otherwise, she had said, she’d have to find another way to “make an adequate home for Gilli.” He had pointed out that she’d never stated any intention of making any sort of home for Gilli before, to which she had retorted, “Things change.”

He knew a threat when he heard one, but his ready cash was tied up in house repairs and would be until the last of the insurance came through. If he’d had the bonus money then, he might have given that to her, though it was just as well she did not have the means to hire an attorney or open court proceedings, not that he seriously thought she would do so. Every time she reached out, though, he was forcibly reminded of his inadequacies and failures. But not today, he decided. Today he was going to hold this one small triumph close and forget about all the rest.

That proved easier than he’d expected when he spied Anna at a table with an older couple across the way. The man looked vaguely familiar, but he knew that he’d never seen the woman before. She said something, and Anna laughed, putting her head back to let the sound roll up out of her throat in a rich, musical flow. The instant that she saw him, the laughter stopped. Reminded forcefully of his conversation
with God on Sunday past, he put on a smile and was rewarded with a look of genuine welcome. He found that welcoming expression compelling, so as the waitress showed him and his companion to their table, he excused himself to briefly detour in Anna’s direction.

The vibrant yellow-orange walls, painted with trailing vines and birds nesting in tree branches, provided a fetching backdrop for Anna’s golden beauty, Reeves mused as he walked across the black-and-white checkerboard floor. Once he arrived at the table, however, he found himself appallingly bereft of conversation beyond, “Hello.”

Anna, fortunately, had no such problem. “Come here often?”

It sounded like the worst of pickup lines, and he almost laughed, as she no doubt intended. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Not really, no.”

“Special occasion then?”

“Business thing,” he said, nodding.

Both of Anna’s eyebrows lifted. “The negotiations must have gone well.”

“You knew about that?”

“Your aunts mentioned something about it.” Effectively changing the subject, she looked to the couple with her. “You may not remember Howard from the print shop.”

“But I do,” Reeves said, shaking hands with the older man.

“And this is his wife Lois.”

“Ma’am.”

“They have a special occasion, too,” Anna announced.

Lois, whose slate brown, shoulder-length hair was sprinkled with silver, hunched her plump shoulders and cast a loving gaze on her husband. “Twenty-eight years.”

“Your wedding anniversary?” Reeves surmised.

Leaning sideways, she linked her arm with her husband’s. “Yes. Anna’s treating us to lunch in celebration.”

“Congratulations. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

Harold smiled and patted his wife’s hand. “Sadly, these days it is, but then there aren’t many like my Lois.”

“Oh, you shameless old flirt,” Lois teased. She winked at Anna and quipped, “He just keeps me around because I make him laugh.”

“Hey, a man with a sense of humor is a rare find,” Anna returned. “Take it from me. I would know. Right, Stick?”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just smiled. “Well, I don’t want to keep my friend waiting.” He nodded to Howard and Lois. “Nice to meet you folks. Anna.”

“Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thanks. You, too.” He started to turn away, but then he stopped, remembering that he had a mission where Anna was concerned. For a moment, he was unsure what to do. He didn’t think it wise to say that he wanted to talk to her about church. Then he remembered something. “Actually,” he said, “I meant to tell you that Gilli’s been asking about you.”

Anna brightened. “Oh?”

Relieved in a way that he couldn’t quite identify, Reeves smiled and nodded. Gilli
had
asked when Anna would come and skate with her again, prompting Reeves to walk out onto the back patio with her to watch her demonstrate her newly acquired skating skills. She hadn’t asked after Anna since. Indeed, that simple gesture on his part had seemed to have pleased his little girl mightily, which had, in turn, humbled him. He was beginning to realize how much he’d left to the nanny, more than he should have. Much more. In some ways, he was only now getting to know his daughter.

“She’d like it if you stopped by to say hello sometime,” he went on carefully.

“I’ll make a point of it,” Anna said. “I have to call on your aunts soon, anyway.”

“We’ll look forward to it.” The seed of a future conversation planted, Reeves seemed to have run out of words for this
one again. He flipped a wave and walked away, leaving Anna smiling as if he’d given her something precious, something more than just a friendly word. It made him feel small to think that he might have given her that at any point in the past.

He could not remember when he’d taken an early weekend, Reeves thought, turning the sedan into the drive of Chatam House that following Friday a good three hours before his usual quitting time. The gate, featuring a large copperplate
C
at its center, stood open in welcome as usual. He could count on one hand the number occasions, in his memory, that it had been closed. Perhaps that perpetual welcome was one reason why he so looked forward to coming home. God knew that Chatam House felt more like home to him now than the house that he had shared with Marissa ever had.

He pushed away thoughts of her and her increasingly shrill demands, steering the sedan around to the west side of the house. Strangely unsurprised to find Anna’s battered old coupe parked beneath the porte cochere there, he parked next to it and got out. He
was
surprised to find Anna and Gilli sitting cross-legged on the ground at the edge of the drive tossing pebbles at the massive magnolia tree on the west lawn. The waxy, palm-sized, evergreen leaves had turned brown around the edges due to the cold, but Reeves knew that they would not fall from the stems until new foliage appeared in the spring, unless they were knocked free by, for example, flying gravel.

He walked toward them, pleased when Gilli smiled and waved at him. Anna glanced his way, then picked a small stone from the edge of the drive and tossed it into the tree. What fell to the dirt was not a large, leathery leaf, as expected, but a scrawny gray cat, yowling in surprised protest. Gilli gasped, and for a second the entire tableau froze. Then, suddenly, both Anna and Gilli burst out laughing. An instant
later, the cat streaked around the converted carriage house, where the staff lived, and out of sight.

“It was a cat!” Gilli exclaimed needlessly. “We got a cat, Daddy!”

He didn’t bother correcting her. The cat was long gone, after all.

Sobered, Anna said, “I hope I didn’t hurt it.”

“It looked okay to me, just surprised.”

“No more surprised than us,” she replied with a chuckle.

“Anna knocked off a cat!” Gilli exclaimed, laughing. Suddenly she looked up at him. “I can knock off leaves, Daddy. Watch!”

Anna sent him a telling glance, even as she too reached for a pebble—from behind Gilli. “Slow and easy,” she counseled, glancing up at him again, this time with a conspiratorial look in her eyes.

Gilli took aim, holding her pebble no higher than her nose. Then suddenly her arm shot up, and she threw it. At the same time, Anna flung her stone up from the ground and over Gilli’s head. Gilli’s pebble traveled about ten feet, plopping silently and unseen, by her at least, to the right. Anna’s sailed into the tree about midway up, and a pair of leaves rattled slowly to the ground beneath.

“I got two! I got two!” Gilli crowed.

“Beans!” Anna complained. “That makes you the winner.”

Gilli radiated delight even as she comforted Anna with a pat on her knee. “Uh-uh. You knocked off the cat. “Member?”

Anna snorted. It sounded suspiciously like a strangled laugh.

Abruptly, Reeves wanted to reach down and scoop them both into his arms. He wanted to savor the whole moment, including the mute byplay with Anna. He had known, somehow, what she was planning, what she had been doing, for Gilli all along, and it warmed his heart, especially when Gilli seemed so pleased with her supposed pebble-tossing
prowess. Rattled by these unexpected emotions, he nevertheless wanted Anna to know how grateful he was, despite his doubts sometimes about her methods and the sudden envy that he felt because Gilli never laughed so easily with him. That, he knew, was his own fault, and he meant, somehow, to remedy the situation.

Anna pushed up from the ground, her long, slender legs straightening to show off the snug, easy fit of her nut-brown corduroy jeans, which she wore with a quilted tan jacket and long, colorful striped wool scarf.