Summer Shadows (34 page)

She tucked her legs under her, preparatory to standing. She gasped as a spasm grabbed her lower back. She’d sat too long in an awkward position, tense with worry the whole time. Her muscles had knotted, and the nerves were protesting with a vengeance. She bit back a scream, grabbing her back.

Marsh dropped to the floor beside her, concern on his face. “A cramp, I presume?” he said softly. “Serves you right, hiding from your mother like that.”

“Oh, shut up.” She rubbed and massaged and made believe tears of self-pity weren’t pricking her eyes again.

“Hey, I’m teasing.” He reached out, wiping the tear that had broken free to roll down her cheek. “Or are these because of the pain?”

She gave a weak grin. “I know you are.” She gasped as the vise of cramp tightened.

“Turn.” He swirled his finger to show what he meant. “Give me your back.”

She nodded and turned, clamping her teeth to keep from crying out.

“Show me where.”

“Here.” She placed her hand on her spine just below the waist and to the right. He placed his large hand where she indicated and began to knead.

“Relax, Abby. Just relax. Whatever’s the problem, we’ll fix it in a bit. For now, just relax.” His soft, soothing voice was a balm to her stretched emotions. Abby felt her shoulders sag, her hands unclench, her breathing deepen. In a minute or two the cramp released its vicious hold and in another minute receded completely.

She looked over her shoulder at him. He was so close she could see the flecks of gold in his irises. They matched his hair. “Thanks.”

“Better?” He smiled, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders. He turned her slowly until her back was to the wall. She pushed herself back until her spine was fully supported. He slid to sit beside her, back against the wall too, shoulder just touching hers.

“Thanks for not giving me away.” She found it hard to look at him, so great was her embarrassment.

His smile broadened, and he took her hand. “Rule number one when playing hide-and-seek: Make certain nothing is sticking out.”

She nodded as she looked at their feet stretched out beyond the bin. Her black flats, resting primly side by side, looked so little next to his crossed bare feet. “Believe me, I’ll never forget.”

“Do you hide from your mother often?” There was no censure in his voice, only curiosity.

“First and last time. I’m not dealing well with the resultant embarrassment.”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Do you need to ask?”

“Because I found you?”

She felt herself flush again. She stared at her lap, nodding. “When I got to the house after work, I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, so I came over here and sat in your chair. Not to hide, you know. Just to give myself more time. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t. In fact, you can sit in my chair anytime you want, even when I’m in it.”

“Right.” Abby noticed his shoulder was now pressed against hers. Who had done the leaning into the other, he or she?

“I mean it,” Marsh said, swinging his free hand out with a flourish. “My chair is your chair.”

“Well,
su casa
seems to be
mi casa
for the time being, so I guess that follows. Still, thanks for the generous offer.”

He nodded. “Now finish your story.”

Abby took a deep breath. “When Mom came downstairs, I panicked and hid behind the bin. I thought you weren’t home. Your car’s gone.”

“It’s at the shop. I get it back tomorrow.”

She nodded. “So I’m caught red-handed.”

He grinned at her. “That you are.”

The sliding door opened and Rick stepped out. His hair was still damp from the shower, and his jaw had the baby-soft look of the newly shaved. He blinked down at them as he stepped over their feet.

“May I remind you two that we do have chairs.” He pointed to them.

“In a minute,” Marsh said. “The floor’s a lot more comfortable than you’d think.”

Rick looked skeptical. “If you say so. I shouldn’t be too late. Celia has to work tomorrow.”

“You don’t have a car,” Abby said.

“Sure I do.” He pointed across the street, and Abby saw his car parked just around the corner. “I parked over there so I wouldn’t get blocked in when you came home.” With a flick of his hand he was gone. “Enjoy eating alone,” drifted back on the breeze.

“But I’m not eating alone.” Marsh grinned at Abby as he rose and held out his hand. “Am I?”

H
ANNAH MACDONALD
stood on the porch staring at nothing long after Abby and Marsh went inside.

God, I don’t know what to do!

She had gotten such a shock seeing Abby’s car in the drive but no Abby. Immediately she’d imagined the worst. Abby had fallen somewhere. She was lying in pain. She’d already been taken to the hospital, unconscious so no one knew to tell Hannah.

Then Marsh walked out, and she went to his deck to check. Again no Abby, at least not that she was supposed to know about.

But she saw that wisp of skirt trailing on the floor, a skirt that she herself had bought for her daughter. She also saw Marsh kick it aside, and she heard him cover for Abby.

“Don’t worry yourself, Mrs. MacDonald. She’ll come home when she’s ready.”

It made her furious that he presumed to understand Abby so well. Who did he think he was? She was the one who knew Abby better than anyone on earth, she who had given the girl life and then nursed her back to life. She had earned her bone-deep knowledge about her daughter with tears and prayers and a will that refused to let Abby yield to her grief and pain.

How dare he challenge her! How dare Abby hide!

When Hannah rushed up the steps, fury like a red haze peppered with zigzags of heat lightning clouded her vision. She marched to the screen door, opened it, closed it, but didn’t go through it. Instead, she tiptoed to the rail to listen. She had to know what they were plotting now.

She couldn’t remember the last time she was so furious. Well, yes, she could. She’d been furious at the driver of the car who was stupid enough to cause the accident. Not for one minute did she think he intended to hurt her family, but he did. Because he was stupid!

She’d been angry with God too, furious that He would require all of them to go through such an ordeal. He’d let her down. How, she wondered for several months and sometimes even to this day, could she ever trust Him again? He’d taken her precious grand-baby, her wonderful son-in-law, and He’d left a maimed Abby.

She didn’t talk to anyone about how she felt for a long time. She kept the lid clamped tight on the rolling boil of her rage, and only in the dark of midnight would she let loose the scalding emotions. She’d lie in bed railing at God in the nocturnal silence, telling Him exactly what she thought of Him while in the daylight she pleaded with proper circumspection for Him to heal Abby, to restore her to what she had once been.

This spiritual schizophrenia might have kept on indefinitely if Len hadn’t confronted her.

“He’s God, Hannah. You’ve got to let Him be God.”

“But it’s not fair!” she cried as tears streamed down her face. “It’s not fair! I loved them.”

He gathered her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “So did He; so does He.”

She frowned at him, her body rigid. “Simplistic, Len. Not fair.”

“Sweetheart, where’d you ever get the idea that life should be fair? Games are supposed to be fair, not life. You either believe God is God—omniscient, omnipresent, loving, holy, and in total control—or all you’ve got is a flawed Superman who can’t control anything or anyone. But know this: If you decide He is God, you’ve got to give up being mad at Him.”

She’d been livid at Len for two days after that lecture, not speaking to him, barely looking at him. He was right, she knew it,
a fact that made her fury burn all the brighter until it threatened to consume her.

Then Abby had a minor relapse. Of course Len was out of town on business again, just as he’d been the day of the accident. She was once more alone to face this latest tragedy. She sat in the waiting room, her heart gripped by her anger, the corrosive fury burning away her normal control.

When the doctors came looking for her to tell her it was just a matter of adjusting Abby’s medication, Hannah didn’t give them a chance to explain. She attacked, accusing them of everything from stupidity to willful malpractice. She ranted and raged, pacing, screaming, throwing her hands into the air. The doctors stood, faces impassive, looking over her head at some distant point like they were bored. Bored! The flames of her ire flashed through the room, using their passivity like oxygen to fuel her.

But even anger with a head of steam like hers eventually burned itself out.

“Are you finished, Mrs. MacDonald?” one of the doctors asked when she paused for a breath.

“Because if you aren’t or even if you are, I’d suggest an immediate visit to a psychiatrist,” said the other. “Immediate.”

They turned and walked away.

Hannah became aware that everyone in the waiting room as well as several people in the hall were staring at her, mouths agape. She felt their condemnation, their icy disdain. She heard her own voice in memory, all the terrible words she had hurled. She turned hot, then cold all over.

She literally ran to the hospital chapel. There she fell to her knees, confessing the great sin of her anger against God and against everyone else for making her suffer. Her! Not Abby. Her!

She never thought she’d feel such anger again. Tonight was putting her to the test. Deceived by her own daughter! And that—that
man
. She heard them talking down there, softly, intimately. Then that Rick character came out, driving off into the night, and Abby went inside with Marsh.

Hannah shivered.
Oh, God!

The phone rang. For a minute she thought she wouldn’t answer. Then she thought it might be Len. She hurried inside.

“Mom, it’s me,” Abby said.

Hannah said nothing.

“Mom, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“Good.” There was a silence. “I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

Did she actually think a weak apology like that would undo the hurt she’d inflicted?

“I’m at Marsh’s. He’s giving me dinner. Then I’ll be up for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Yes, then he and I are going for a walk on the beach.”

Hannah closed her eyes against the pain. She was to get a few minutes. Marsh was to get dinner and a walk on the beach. Her anger blazed afresh.

“I love you, Mom,” Abby whispered. The line went dead.

Hannah stood clutching the buzzing phone for some time.
“I love you, Mom.”
She closed her eyes.
I love you, too, Abby. That’s why I want to save you
.

Hannah went to the kitchen and looked at the rosemary baked chicken, the potato wedges coated with Parmesan cheese, the green beans with almonds and Italian dressing. She shook her head. Not tonight. She was too upset to eat. She set about storing everything away. When she was finished, she went out onto the deck and sat.

She had been sitting for about thirty minutes when she heard Abby on the steps. She listened, but she couldn’t detect a second set of footfalls. At least Marsh wasn’t with her.

Abby walked over, taking the chair next to Hannah. Her skirt foamed about her legs. “He fed me Lean Cuisine. Your reputation is safe.”

Hannah looked at Abby with sorrow. “You’ve changed.”

“Yes. I’m glad you see it.”

“You’re glad?” Hannah stared. “I’m not complimenting you, Abby. I think the changes are wrong, detrimental to you as a Christian and a woman.”

“I know you do.” Abby began to rub her lower back. “What changes do you see, and why are they wrong?”

Just remember you asked me
. “You have become rebellious. You
have developed a spirit that pits itself against your father and me. You only pay attention to Marsh who’s so bad for you.”

Abby’s chin went up when Hannah mentioned Marsh. However, to Hannah’s surprise she didn’t respond to the comments about him.

Abby began to pleat her skirt, not looking at Hannah. “Why do you think I ‘pit’ myself against you and Dad?”

“Because you have developed a rebellious spirit.”

Abby shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Why have I become rebellious at this late date in my life? Why don’t I take your advice? Why don’t I agree with you about what’s best for me?”

“Marsh.” One word said it all.

“No, Mom. It’s not Marsh.” Abby stopped playing with her skirt and leaned forward to give Hannah her full attention. “I was already rebelling before I even met him. What did you think this move to Seaside was?”

Hannah frowned.
A mistake
. “You know what I thought and think. It’s a huge mistake, taking you away from your support system and all who love you. You’re not strong enough to handle the physical ramifications of being on your own, let alone the emotional ones.”

Abby studied Hannah thoughtfully. “Is it that you don’t think I’m strong enough, or you don’t
want
me to be strong enough?”

Hannah was appalled. “What a terrible thing to suggest. Of course I want you to become stronger and stronger.”

“Do you? Or do you want me to remain dependent, sweet Abby, the obedient daughter?”

Hannah stared at Abby as if she’d never seen her before. “I have always wanted the very best for you, Abby. Always.”

Abby nodded. “I know you have. The problem is that it’s according to your definition of best, not mine.”

Hannah bristled, the too-familiar anger beating a steady tattoo in her blood. “Since you were a baby, I have prayed over you and for you. I have taught you and watched you. Do you think I don’t know you? That I can’t see what’s best for you?”

“Yes, that’s what I think.”

It took a minute for Hannah to find her voice. “Abby, how dare you!”

Abby continued, her voice controlled. “I think you believe you
know me and my heart, but I know you don’t. Maybe you did before the accident. I don’t know. But I know you don’t know me now. You haven’t allowed for how the accident has changed me for the better. You look at the transformations just as rebelliousness or a temporary madness. Maybe they even represent a threat.”