Threads of Steel (Bayou Cove) (39 page)

Anna Marie took a big breath of hot summer air, but didn’t mind the thick morning air. It seemed her whole outlook was different this morning. After Angela’s visit yesterday evening, she realized she could’ve had more control over her life. She didn’t have to move away as she did. This little town could’ve offered her a lot had she given it a chance.

“There’s still time,” she said out loud. “I’m still young enough to capture some of what I’ve tried to leave behind.”

She smiled at her own words. She’d conquered the business world and made a success of herself, but she had a lot of work to do on her personal life.

That thought made her think about Doug. She wished he would be the kind to settle down, but she understood his life. He’d already had a good married life with Jennifer. Now, his world consisted of tourists and tournaments, new women on the golf course and friendly men playing rounds of golf. He had a good life here. She’d have to be content to be just a little part of it. She was good at living alone.

“And
living
is the key word.” She stood up and headed for the house to grab her purse. Today she wanted to start on her master bedroom. With excitement running through her veins, she headed to the home improvement store to start her adventure.

By early evening she found herself back on the front porch. After painting all afternoon, she took an early shower and headed for the outdoors to rest and to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment from what she’d done today. The room was about halfway finished and she’d done it by herself
.
She’d been tempted to call Doug, but she didn’t want to make him feel she would be dependent on him now that she was in town. Instead, she bought all the needed supplies and did the work herself.

Leaning back against the swing, she yawned and tried to relax the muscles she hadn’t used in years. She opened her eyes and sat up straight when the noise of an older model blue truck pulled up in front of the yard. She took a deep breath.
Now what?

Even though one side of the front looked as if it had been restored, the dents and rust on the other side reminded her of some of the people she tried to avoid in the city. Living alone for all those years had taught her to be on her guard.

A man stepped around the truck and walked up to the wrought iron gate. By the looks of his thinning grey hair and wrinkled skin, she figured the man must have been over sixty. He carried a medium sized cardboard box with clothing and papers sticking out the top.

“Are you Miss
LaFaire
?” he asked.

“I am. What can I do for you?” Anna Marie stood up and walked to the porch railing.

“My name’s Tim Barker. I have some things from your father.” He looked down at the box. “I thought you’d like to have them.”

She remembered the name from the officers and also from newspaper articles about the accident. “You have Dad’s things?”

The man nodded. “Uh, Carl was staying at my house after he got out on parole. He didn’t have much. I kind of left this stuff sitting in a back room,
then
I found out from a mutual friend
that you had bought this place.
Just thought you’d like to look through these things.”

Anna Marie stepped away from the railing. “Yes, come on up.” With her heart pounding, she met him at the top of the stairs. She looked at the box holding things that might give her some insight into the father she hadn’t known. “You can put the box on that rocker.”

Mr. Barker set the box down, coughed,
then
wheezed as he turned around. “Your father—Carl—was a friend of mine up in
Parchman
Prison.” He coughed,
then
continued. “We were cellmates for a while. He was a nice guy.
Pretty quiet.
Liked to be by himself, but we got to know each other real good. After a while when you’re in prison, you find someone to talk to, and, I guess, I was that person for him.”

Anna Marie blinked, not believing someone from her father’s life was actually here.

“Please sit down. I’ll go in and get you a cola or tea.”

He nodded. “Tea would be great.”

Anna Marie hurried inside and came out with a tall glass.

“Thank you.” He took a big swallow. “That’s good.”

She picked up the box,
then
sat down in the other rocker with the box on her lap. “Could you tell me more about my father? He cut ties with my mother and me even though we tried to see him. I wrote him letters, but he never answered them.”

“I know. He said you and your mother didn’t deserve to have someone like the likes of him dragging you down.”

A small groan escaped her lips. “I wanted to talk with him so bad, just once, to let him know how I was doing and where I was in case he needed something.”

“He knew. Don’t ask me how, but he knew. At first I guess he kept informed from the people around here,
then
when the prison got computers, he found the website of your business. That’s all he talked about for days. He was so proud of you.” He smiled and Anna Marie saw that he was missing a few of his teeth. “When he got out, he thought you were still in New Orleans.”

“I still live there, but I bought this house so I’ll be spending time here as well.”

She sat quietly a moment. No words could describe the way she felt. Anger and sadness and hurt flooded over her just as it had during the days she’d spent with her father in the hospital. She wrung her hands and wanted the man to leave. Tears threatened to strangle her if they didn’t come out.

“Miss
LaFaire
, your father loved you. He was sorry for what he’d done to your family. He told me that many times.”

A horrible sob wracked her body. She covered her mouth with her hand, but the sobs refused to stay put.

Mr. Barker stood up, obviously embarrassed that he’d witnessed such an emotional response. He handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s my name and phone number if you want to ask me anything.”

Anna Marie managed to thank him but didn’t move from the rocker. She hugged the box until he drove off.

Finally, she wiped her eyes enough to see what was in the box. Several paperback books were stuffed next to a pair of wrinkled khaki pants and a stained blue button-up shirt. The books were old thriller type stories, one mystery, and one military adventure. She was glad her father spent time reading. She’d never pictured him as someone who would pick up a book, but then she figured prison changed a man.

She pulled out the clothes and books. At the bottom lay a bundle of letters that she’d sent to
him, neatly stacked and held together with a rubber band. They’d all been opened and showed wear. Was it possible that he’d read them several times? She picked them up and held them to her chest.

If he’d actually read and maybe re-read her letters, maybe he really did still love her. Why hadn’t she tried harder to see him? Maybe one day he would’ve given up the fight and actually talked with her.

For a long time, Anna Marie sat on the porch alone. Evening shadows from the tall oak tree in her front yard covered the lawn and crept up onto the porch, but she never got up to turn on a light. She didn’t need a light to see the letters. She knew what they said, and if she closed her eyes long enough, she could envision her father reading them.

“Anna Marie? Are you okay?”

Her eyes flew open as Doug stepped up onto the porch.

“Doug. I didn’t hear you drive up.”

“And I didn’t see you sitting in the dark. I almost didn’t stop. You don’t have a light on in the entire house. Had I not seen your car in the driveway, I would’ve kept going.”

Realizing that what he said was true, Anna Marie looked around. “I guess I’ve been sitting here longer than I thought.”

Doug stooped down next to her rocker. “Is everything okay? What are you holding?”

“Dad’s stuff.
A cellmate of his brought it to me.”

“I see.” He placed a warm hand on her arm. “Want to tell me about it?”

She inhaled a ragged breath, not knowing where to start. “Dad didn’t have much. He was staying with this man, Tim Barker. Dad was driving Tim’s car when he hit Miss Ellie.” She ran her hand along the letters she still held. “These were in the box. They’re my letters that I sent to him. He never answered them, but he read them.”

She tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure what her face muscles did. Since Mr. Barker left, she’d cried so much that she was sure her muscles were worn out.

“Of course he read them.” He stood up, opened the door, and switched a light on. When he stooped down by her again, he took the stack from her, then held a few up at a time. “And from the looks of them, he read them a lot.”

That brought a smile up. “I’ve been telling myself that, but I was afraid I was seeing only what I wanted to see.”

“No, you can tell they’ve been opened and reopened many times. I’m sure your words were a comfort to him for many years.”

She squeezed her eyes tight. Doug didn’t say any more for a long time. He sat on the floor with a hand on her leg. She appreciated his presence and understanding.

Finally, she sniffled loud,
then
chuckled. “I think I’ve run out of tears.”

He reached up and ran a finger along her cheek bone. “I’m glad. I don’t like to see you cry, but these letters are a good thing. Now you know he never forgot you.”

“And there’s more. Yesterday afternoon one of my old school mates came by. I won’t go into all the boring details, but she never really was a good friend. She took the time to come welcome me to the neighborhood and to thank me.”

“Thank you for what?”

Anna Marie sat on the edge of the rocker and took his hands. “You’d never guess in a million years. The most wonderful thing in the world happened. She told me that her husband’s mother got my father’s heart. Doug, it saved her life.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. That’s wonderful. Your father’s life had meaning then, didn’t it?”

She sat a long minute before she answered. “Yes. Yes, it did. Oh how I wish my mother was here to know this.”

Doug pushed himself up, then pulled her in his arms and held her. “Maybe she does know. Maybe she does.”

For a long time Anna Marie relished the feeling of having him with her but made herself push away the hope that he could be here forever with her. Finally she sat up straight and smiled at him, happy that he’d come by and she could share her joy. If this is what their relationship would be, then she’d accept it because she liked being with him.

“Can I get you something to drink? I went to the store today before I started painting my bedroom.”

“You took on a project that big?

“Yes. I’m not used to having a lot of people fall over backwards to help me. I’m a very self-sufficient kind of gal.”

“That you are, but I don’t need anything to drink.” He pulled out a little card from his pocket.

“What’s that?”

“It’s for you. Read it.” He grinned and held it out to her.

She put the stack of her father’s letter into the box and placed all of it on the floor, then took the envelope. The card had a simple picture of a winding bayou, done in pen and ink. “Pretty.”

“One of my friends does these and sells them downtown at the festivals. I buy them every year and never use them, but this one reminded me of you. Open it.”

She did and held it up to the light. His handwriting was small and neat and the words simply said, “Welcome home.”

Again the tears sprang to her eyes.
“Oh, Doug.
That’s so sweet of you. Thank you. I’ll treasure this forever.”

“Well, if I knew you’d like the card so much, I wouldn’t have bought you the present.”

“You have me a present?”

“I sure do. Come out to the car with me.”

He stood up,
then
helped her. Taking her hand, he led her down the steps.

He started to open the back of his SUV, but turned to her first. “I wanted to come over today. I knew you’d have a lot to do, but I was on a mission to get something for you and I had to go to Mobile to find what I wanted.”

“You went to Mobile for me?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did, so I hope you like them.” He opened the back.

“Oh my!”
She pulled her hand up to her mouth. “Are those
mine
?”

He nodded, then reached down and lifted a white leather golf bag filled with golf clubs and colorful jester golf heads. “If you’re going to be hanging around here and golfing with me, you’ll need golf clubs better than what you’ve been dragging around. He smiled and leaned the bag into her hand. “I have a reputation to uphold at the golf course.”

She ran her hand through the clubs. “They’re beautiful. I’ll have to take lessons if I show up with something as nice as these.”

Doug reared back and straightened his shoulders. “I just happen to know a golf pro who hangs around a local course not too far from here, madam.”

“You do, huh?”