Slider (23 page)

I gave her the address and told her to come whenever she’d like, but that Annabelle was sleeping right now and probably needed it. She agreed and said she would be over in a couple hours. I figured that was plenty of time to get myself together and figure out what my girl needed.

Time was flying by, yet slowed every time I looked at the clock. Annabelle was still in bed. She’d woken once and I went in to ask her if she was hungry, and got her a glass of water with some aspirin. She declined all of it. Only two words had been uttered by her since we left the field, and I was now anxious for my mom to get here to see what she could do.

About that time, the doorbell rang. Annabelle looked over at me and I gave her a sympathetic look.

“I called my mom. I’m sorry if that makes you upset, but I think you need someone other than just me right now.”

She simply nodded.

Going to the door, I let my mom in and took her purse. “Where is she?”

“Down the hall, the last door on the left.”

Taking no time to ask me anything else, she headed off in the direction I told her. I followed behind her. Upon entering the room, Annabelle was still lying down but facing the door. Her expression appeared to be resolved. She knew she was going to be asked questions and it was like she had steeled herself for the onslaught. Except, that’s not what happened. My mom, in her typical fashion knew exactly what was needed. She took one look at Annabelle, and instead of the fifty questions I think both of us expected, she went to her and lifted her head and lay Annabelle’s head back down in her lap. I watched on as my mother gently stroked Annabelle’s hair and started to hum a soft lullaby I knew she sang to my brothers and me when we were younger and not feeling well.

She cracked.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and for the first time in hours, she released her emotions. My mom cooed to her and told her it would be okay. She simply let her have her feelings without forcing anything from her. It was then that I knew I made the right choice asking her to come over. Annabelle needed a mom. She needed the touch of a mother to make her feel like her world would be okay even though she was hurting.

“I named him. Turner was the only one I told.” Her voice was hoarse from sleep, and not speaking.

“You did? Well, I’m sure it was a special one,” my mom replied.

“Noah. It was my dad’s middle name.”

I didn’t know that. She never shared that bit of information with me.

“Noah is a good and strong name. Sounds like he was a fighter.”

A fresh wave of tears and sobs wracked her body. “He was, except now he’s gone.”

“I don’t know what your religion is, honey, but I am a firm believer that God has a plan for all of us. When it’s our time to be called back to his side, it’s because we are needed elsewhere, and to teach those of us who still remain how to live differently. Noah had his purpose. What the purpose was . . . well, that’s up to you to search for that answer.”

I could tell she was pondering this thought. I didn’t think Annabelle was a very religious person, but in some way shape or form, we all had our beliefs. If my mom’s words were giving her comfort, then by God, I hope she kept talking. I didn’t want to continue to intrude on their moment of quietness and solitude, so I stepped back and shut the door. Walking into the living room, I sat down on the couch and buried my head in my hands, my fingers diving into my hair. My mom being here was giving me some peace as well. I didn’t want to deal with this alone and being at a loss how to comfort the one person you never want to see hurt is more stressful than I ever thought possible. Sitting back, I rested my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes. What a day it has been.

Not having a clue how long it’d been, I awoken by my mom’s hand on my leg and her whispered voice telling me she was leaving. I didn’t even realize I’d dozed off.

“Where is she?”

Her eyes were red, and I knew she had shed tears alongside my girl. “She’s asleep again.”

I nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome, son.”

“I didn’t know what else to do, Mom. It’s like as soon as I told her he was gone, so was she.”

She reached forward and patted my cheek, her hand lingering. “I don’t know what it’s like losing a child. Hearing Annabelle talk about that baby during dinner, there was so much adoration in her voice, I knew he was special to her.” Mom dropped her hand. “She was loving him like he was hers, Turner. I don’t know how or why she attached herself to him, but she obviously saw a reason to. The poor girl has seen entirely too much loss in her short life, and this was just another notch for her to believe the world is a cruel place that only hurts her if she lets it.”

“Well, I don’t need her shutting me out. That’s what I’m concerned about right now. It has taken some time to get her to open up to me, and even then she is guarded.”

“She has reason to be.”

“I know.”

Mom gave me a soft smile. “One thing at a time, Turner. You can’t fix everyone. Show her you’re here, and she will tell you what she needs.”

She stood and went for the door.

“You okay to drive, or should I call Dad to come pick you up?”

“I’m good. I’ll be calling tomorrow morning to check on her. I have some things I’d like to do, and I’ll need your opinion on it.”

My mom, always busy doing something. “Sounds good.”

She shut the door behind her and the house went silent. What a shitty ending to a day that had so much potential. Deciding I needed to see Annabelle and feel her, I went back to her room. She was on her back with her hands resting across her stomach. At least she looked peaceful. Stripping off my shirt, I went to her and scooted in beside her. I didn’t want to crowd her, but I also wanted to make sure she knew I was here. I placed my hand on top of hers, and of their own accord, her fingers threaded through mine. She breathed in a broken inhale. The kind that comes from a child that had been crying too much. I was giving her space and, yet, still being close enough that if she needed me I was at arms length. It was enough, for now.

IT’D BEEN TWO DAYS
since Noah passed. My shifts at the hospital had been picked up and I’d sequestered myself to my house. I didn’t want to go anywhere and I didn’t want to do anything. I couldn’t get over something like this. A baby, who was completely innocent and brought into this world under some of the worst circumstances, fought so hard. He fought and started to get better and then he was snatched away like he didn’t matter to anybody. Except he did. He mattered to
me
. I cared enough about him that I’d devoted my time to him, and I loved him and showed him love. His worthless mother abandoned him. No child deserved such cruelty. I didn’t have any intention of adopting him or anything, but I would have ensured that someone worthy would have ended up with him. I was nowhere near ready to have a child of my own. In fact, the very idea of having a baby scared me so much I had come to the conclusion that I likely wouldn’t have my own kids. I’d seen so many babies being brought into this world. The way the parents react to their new little bundles kept the saying in perspective.

Having a child is like having your heart walking around outside your body.

I had too many nervous tendencies since my parents passed away, to even consider having children. Turner has hardly left my side since I got the news. I didn’t know how to speak to him about my grief. I tried yesterday, but nothing came out of my mouth. So I continued on with head nods and shakes as my form of communication and doing the things that others expect from you to show that you’re okay. I learned far too early that when someone passes away, the people around you want and need you to be okay, so that they may move on with their own lives. Was it selfish of them? I had no clue. But I could also tell Turner may be on to me. He didn’t just watch me, he studied me. It should have made me uncomfortable him being here, but it didn’t. His presence was nice, and he never once forced me to talk about anything. He didn’t ask me to cry, or tell him how I was feeling. He’s simply let me be. But I knew he sensed me. There was something there under the surface of those blue eyes that were watching me. For now, he let me know he was near and it was enough.

Today was just another day that I woke up with the same empty feeling I’d felt the last three days. No Noah, and the fear that life could take a tragic turn for me or anybody else I knew. I rolled over in my bed and smelled that a fresh pot of coffee had been made. Frowning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Living like this wasn’t ideal for anyone. It was time to make face with Turner, just so I could come back into my room and sleep some more. As I left my comfortable bed, I glanced in the mirror on my way out.

Ewwww, holy crap!

I had a nest forming on the top of my head that would be perfect for a couple baby birds, and I had dark circles under my eyes. I tried to run my fingers through my thick hair, but had no luck. They got stuck in the tangles and I gave up. Lifting my shoulders and exhaling, it didn’t matter. Turner wouldn’t stick around too much longer. He was going to get tired of my attitude and leave.

“Morning, beautiful.” Turner greeted me. He was leaning up against the kitchen counter, shirtless, a pair of sweat pants hanging low on his hips. Could that V get any deeper? Even in my state of mind, I was fully capable of appreciating the man that stood before me. He twisted behind himself to hand me a mug. The simple motion caused my lips to part. When he handed it to me, his blue eyes held mine. There was a warm fire just under the surface that I could see burning. Oh my.

“Morning,” I rasped.

He took a sip of his coffee and asked, “How’d you sleep?”

I shook off the errant thoughts and answered, “Like I have been.”

“Restless?”

I frowned. “No. Dreamlessly.”

He set his mug down. “Sounds boring.”

What in the hell? “Sorry to bore you.” I went to the coffee pot and poured my first cup.

“Annabelle, you’re not boring me. You’re misunderstanding what I’m saying. Get your coffee and come out on the deck.”

He walked out the sliding glass door, and left me standing there to figure out what he was doing.

I dumped some cream and sugar into my “Follow your dreams” mug. The irony wasn’t lost on me, and walked in the same direction he did. Turner was sitting in my dad’s chair. I stopped and analyzed how I felt seeing him sitting there. That was a special seat, and only someone who meant something to me should ever be allowed to sit there. After my parents died, all of the distant family and friends that came in and out of this house, I guarded that chair with my life. Nobody was to sit there except my dad or me. And since he was gone, it was only a place for me. A thousand emotions swirled through me, but not a single one was anger or the urge to tell him he needed to move. Turner was welcome there, and I was more than okay with it.

“You going to stand there watching me, or do you plan on coming over here to talk to me?”

I raised my brow despite him not being able to see it. “Are you always so bossy and demanding?”

“No. I could be worse,” he said matter of fact.

Great.
Lord only knows what that was really like. I came to stand in front of him and made a show of leaning against the railing and feigning indifference to his sassy mouth.

“What’s up?”

He wanted to chuckle but he didn’t. Instead his expression turned stoic. “We are going to do something a little different. I know you probably want to have your coffee and go lay back down and drown out the day, but not today.”

My heart picked up its pace. “What are you talking about, Turner?”

“When you’re done with your little breakfast there. . .” He nodded toward my cup. “I’m going to need you to go take a nice long shower, relax your muscles, and get ready for the day. I’ll put some clothes out for you. We have somewhere we need to be this morning.”

I was already feeling defensive. He wasn’t going to force me out of my home just because he didn’t want to stay here. “No. You can go do whatever it is that you need to do, but I’m not in the mood to do anything.”

“I’m not asking, Annabelle.”

“Neither am I.” I squared my shoulders.

He sighed, looking slightly defeated. “Please. I’m not going to make you do anything that you don’t want to do, but this is something that I think you need.”