Thin Ice (40 page)

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Authors: Liana Laverentz

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Thin Ice
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What are you trying to do? Break in?” She eyed him blandly.

“Won't do you any good. They're not here. I dropped them off at the airport three hours ago."

"They've left town?"

"Went home to see Emily's family."

Eric swalowed his surprise. Emily had never mentioned her family.

He knew she had one somewhere from the time she'd nosed through her canceled checks, but from the banks they'd been drawn on, she could be anywhere from Michigan to Pennsylvania.

"Did she say when she'd be back?"

"A week from Sunday."

By then the playoffs might be over. So she'd written him off, not caring to stick around and see how things turned out. His gaze fel on the purple and white impatiens she'd planted so determinedly.

They didn't look so puny anymore. They looked happy and healthy.

Two rows of strong survivors—like Emily.

An image of her as she'd looked that day rose in his mind's eye—

face and arm bruised, lip split, knees scraped. It sliced him wide open al over again to think she considered him capable of hurting her or Robbie.

"How is she?” he asked softly.

"Confused."

"About?"

"A lot of things. Her family, her ex. You."

"I'd never hurt her, Anna. Or Robbie."

"I know that. She does, too. She told Augustus so almost three months ago."

"Then...?"

"You have to understand, Eric, she's been taking care of herself and Robbie for a long time now. I suspect it's hard for her to imagine living any other way."

He hesitated, knowing he was prying, yet knowing he might never get another chance. “Would you tel me how you met?"

Anna studied him, then looked away, toward her house across the street. Eric waited, feeling a hard lump form in his throat. When it came to placing her trust in others, Emily Jordan chose carefuly and wel. Anna wouldn't betray her secrets any more than Carmen had.

"Come on,” Anna said quietly. “I've got some muffins in the oven.

They'l burn if I don't get back to them."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"She came to me with nothing,” Anna said, and set a tal glass of milk in front of him. She motioned for Eric to help himself to a basket of piping hot blueberry muffins. “Nothing but her pride.

She'd heard I was renting a room and showed up on my doorstep, nothing but skin and bones, wearing a sling on her arm and a fading yelow bruise on her jaw."

Anna lowered her bulk into the chair across from him and broke open a muffin. “I took one look at her and thought ‘Trouble, any way you look at it,’ but I showed her the room anyway."

"She didn't say anything, just looked around like a hurt puppy needing someplace to hide. When I told her what the rent was, she stared at the floor for a minute, then lifted her head and looked me in the eye and said, ‘I know you don't have any reason to trust me, Mrs. Hamilton, but I'm a fourth year medical student at Mercy. I've got one more semester before I graduate. I haven't got any money right now, but I wil later. In the meantime, I can cook and clean and do yard work if you'l let me in exchange for the room. I'l eat at the hospital."

Anna's muffin turned to ashes in Eric's mouth.

"I just stared at her, like you're staring at me now, felt my heart go out to her, and wondered how the devil she thought she'd do any out to her, and wondered how the devil she thought she'd do any housework with a broken arm. I finaly said as much.” Anna's hands stiled as she stared past Eric's shoulder, remembering. “She didn't move a muscle, just stared back at me with those big, clear green eyes, then nodded and said in that quiet way of hers, ‘Thank you for your time, Mrs. Hamilton.’”

Anna shook her head and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “I made up my mind right then and there I'd let her stay as long as she wanted to. She needed a place to stay more than I needed the money. I was only renting out the room to have some company after I retired. My first husband had died eight years earlier and the old house—it was this big old Victorian—got lonely with just me rattling around in it al day."

"Where was she staying when she came to you?"

"I never asked. From the looks of her, I'd have guessed one of the shelters around town. You want some more milk?"

"I'm good, thanks.” He was afraid it would curdle in his stomach.

"How about some tea?"

He declined, waited while she made herself a cup. Surrounded by the cozy smel of blueberries and cinnamon, he thanked God she'd been there for Emily. He hated to think of what might have happened to her and Robbie if Anna hadn't taken her in, but deep down he knew she'd have found a way to survive. If there was one thing Emily wasn't short on, it was determination.

thing Emily wasn't short on, it was determination.

"She didn't say much those first weeks,” Anna said, returning with her tea. “It was like I had a ghost living with me. She came and went, shut herself up in her room with her medical books. She took her meals at the hospital, just like she'd said she would, but she got skinnier by the day. No one came to see her, no one caled her or wrote to her. She didn't leave the house except to go to class.

"I didn't find out she was pregnant until I heard her retching in the bathroom two months later. When I asked her about her family, she looked me in the eye again and said she didn't have one anymore.

End of discussion.

"Things changed between us from that day on. I insisted she take her meals with me. By the time Robbie came along, she was a regular butterbal and we were the happiest threesome around. I watched him while she put in her thirty-six hour shifts at the hospital, and held him on my lap when his mama got her diploma. They stayed with me until Robbie was old enough to go to school. She didn't want him to go to school in the city—the neighborhood was getting run down by then and she was worried about him walking back and forth by himself.

"I said I'd be glad to take him, but she said I'd done enough for them already, it was time to stand on her own two feet. So she bought the house across the street and moved out here. I sold my house six months later and moved in with her—I'd been spending most of my time out here anyway, looking after Robbie while she most of my time out here anyway, looking after Robbie while she worked. Then I met Augustus and moved in here."

"Did she ever talk about her husband?"

"Once.” Anna's eyes grew distant again as she stirred her tea. “She probably wouldn't have done it if I hadn't bought her that vase.” Quietly, Anna explained what had happened that day. That was the only time I ever saw her cry."

"So her husband's family was rich,” Eric said, easing toward the subject of the man's identity.

"Richer than sin. And they'd tossed her out like she was yesterday's garbage. Just like her family."

"Why?"

"Because she divorced the man who made her life a living hel. Her parents were Catholic. Her father disowned her. Her mother didn't have any choice but to obey him. He was one of those men who don't go to church, but know enough about the Bible to quote it out of context and twist the message to suit himself. Personaly, I think he disowned her because he was afraid she'd give her mother ideas."

Eric frowned and thought of the foundation. “What about her brothers and sisters?"

"They were too young to make a stand at the time, even if they'd wanted to. Emily's the oldest."

wanted to. Emily's the oldest."

"And takes that responsibility seriously."

"Very."

Eric looked at the clock on the stove, saw it was past time for him to leave for the arena. He reached for one last muffin. “Tel me about the Jordan Foundation.” Anna raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I gather she's putting her siblings through school?"

Anna nodded, then explained how Emily had been determined to see that her brothers and sisters had a chance for a better life. “She set up the foundation to get around her father's refusal to let them have anything to do with her. To preserve her anonymity, we rented a post office box and decided I'd handle the correspondence and sign the checks."

Eric stared. “They don't know Emily is paying for their educations?” Forty thousand dolars she'd sheled out last year and they didn't have a clue?

"She was afraid they'd refuse the money if they knew it was from her."

"But now she's gone home. Why?"

"She found out her father died."

Eric left Anna's knowing nothing short of a miracle would bring Eric left Anna's knowing nothing short of a miracle would bring Emily back to him. There was nothing he could offer Emily and Robbie that Emily couldn't provide for them herself. She'd puled herself up from nothing and put six siblings through colege, to boot.

She didn't need him, and never had.

* * * *

While Eric sat at Anna's kitchen table downing blueberry muffins and grappling with Emily's past, Emily sat at her mother's kitchen table eating ravioli, grappling with the same.

The changes were almost overwhelming. What she'd remembered as a cramped and dreary house was now cozy and cheery, filed with happy noise and sunshine. Annalise and Robbie were in Annalise's room (Emily and her sisters’ old room) checking out her CD colection, while Emily and her mother shared maternal winces as their children screeched along with their favorite songs.

She wriggled her toes in the late afternoon breeze that whispered through the back door and studied her surroundings while her mother cleared the table and dished out homemade spumoni ice cream. She'd refused to let Emily lift a finger, and insisted she sit back and put up her feet, slightly swolen from the flight.

The tiny house teemed with the knick-knacks her mother so loved.

Catrina had a colection of ceramic cats, another of dogs, oodles of figurines, and an assortment of crystal animals that rivaled Emily's.

The tiny crystal rabbit Emily had picked up at the airport gift shop The tiny crystal rabbit Emily had picked up at the airport gift shop occupied a place of honor on the kitchen windowsil, and winked at her mother as she bustled about in domestic bliss.

The once dark and dank wals had been painted with warm, welcoming colors, and now boasted pretty pastels painted by her sister Sheila, the family's acknowledged artist. Bright throw pilows and hand-crocheted afghans decorated the living room couch and chairs. The second-hand throw rugs that had covered the warped wooden floors had been replaced with sturdy wal-to-wal carpeting. The kitchen's linoleum floor was new vinyl, but stil squeaked familiarly in the center. The gleaming new refrigerator hummed quietly, whereas the one Emily remembered had rattled incessantly.

Her mother's handmade quilts graced every bed in the house, although there weren't nearly as many beds as there had been when Emily lived there. Al that remained were two twins in Annalise's room, two sets of bunk beds in the boys’ old room (for the grandchildren when they came to visit), and Catrina Jordan's ten-month-old waterbed. The dimly lit, severely water-damaged single bathroom Emily remembered now boasted a skylight and had been redone in soft pastels and a feminine floral print.

Nowhere was there any evidence of her father's reign of terror.

"Robbie! Annalise! Come and get dessert!"

Even that had changed, Emily thought wryly, as she removed her Even that had changed, Emily thought wryly, as she removed her feet from Robbie's chair. She'd never heard her mother raise her voice. Her father had shouted enough for the both of them.

After dessert, Robbie and Annalise disappeared again, while Emily went to sit on the front porch swing and drink her decaf while her mother turned on the new dishwasher. Emily studied the pale blue vinyl siding, recaled the ugly ochre aluminum siding that had once covered the house, and thought she might do her own house in blue when the time came.

"So what do you think?” her mother asked, after she'd settled on the swing beside Emily.

Emily smiled. “That I've never seen you happier."

Her mother returned the smile with maternal affection. “That's because my baby's finaly come home."

"I wanted to come sooner."

"I know you did."

They rocked in silence, listened to the crickets and cicadas vie with the distant rumble and hum of traffic on the nearby interstate. Emily wanted to ask about her father, but her mother hadn't mentioned him beyond teling her he was dead, and the night was so peaceful she didn't want to disturb it with unpleasant memories. She sighed, knowing the memories would be just as unpleasant in the morning.

"Ryan hit me, Mama."

"I suspected as much. I knew you wouldn't have left him without a very good reason. I didn't raise you that way."

"I'm sorry about the divorce, but I had to think of Robbie."

"I'd have done the same if I could have."

Emily stared at her mother in stunned surprise. “You'd have divorced daddy?"

"I wouldn't have divorced him, but I would have moved out."

"But I thought—"

"I believed a woman's place was with her husband? I do. As long as they treat each other with kindness and respect. If they don't ...

wel ... divorce wasn't for me, but I can't condemn others for taking that path. Certainly not my own children. Martin's divorced, Suzanna is, too. I'd sooner cut off my arms than turn my back on them the way your father turned his back on you. But they stayed in town, so it was easier for me to keep in touch with them. Duane wouldn't have liked it if he'd known about it, but I wasn't about to lose another child because of his selfish insecurities."

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