With Every Breath (5 page)

His ugly face lit up. "They said you don’t remember, but I knew you wouldn’t do that to me. I’m glad." "Thanks." Then she frowned. "Who told you I didn’t remember?"

Angus closed his eyes, obviously thinking. "I went down to the boats."

Maddie nodded her encouragement.

"I go there every day. To get the fish they don’t . . . they don’t
wholesale."
He gave the word triumphantly. "Oh."

"Harry said you came. He brought you over."

Harry must be that old man who had been standing up near the pilothouse on the ferry, she realized. She’d thought he’d been watching her, but she hadn’t spoken to him. She was amazed. She wondered how in the world had he recognized her after all that time?

"Would you like to come up and sit down?" she invited.

"Only one chair," Angus pointed out.

"Yes, well, I could sit on the step." He began shaking his head emphatically. "Or you could," she added.

His face creased with thought again. "That would be okay."

She watched him come around to the front of the porch, walk up the handicapped ramp, and sit down on the top step of the stairs. The ramp was reasonably new plywood, as though it had been tacked on as an afterthought. "Would you like a glass of wine?" she offered. "
No!"

She flinched back a little when he shouted.
Touched a nerve there,
she thought. "Well, that’s all right. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to."

"You shouldn’t, either."

"What? Drink wine?"

He nodded. "Bad. It’s very bad for you."

"Well, I guess it could be, if I drank too much of it. But I don’t usually do that." She smiled self-deprecatingly, and it seemed to relax him.

Angus’s big head swiveled around so he could look back at the house. "You have a boy now."

Maddie nodded, smiling more naturally. "Yes. His name is Josh."

"That’s a good name. Good."

"Yes, I think so, too," she responded, amused.

"Where did you go when they took you away from here?"

Maddie caught up with the seemingly unchanneled turns of his mind. "Florida. My aunt came and took me back to Florida with her."

"Was she nice to you?"

"Yes, yes, she was."

"That’s good. You were nice to me."

Maddie nodded, unsurprised by that. Being with him, for all his stilted conversation, felt just fine. It must have been a wholesome, if odd, friendship that they’d shared.

"That time when they threw rocks at me outside the school," Angus said. "I remember that real good. You yelled at everybody and made them stop."

Maddie’s smile faded. She felt something clench vaguely inside her.

Outside the school?
It occurred to her that she must have attended the one with the blue roof that she and Josh had passed that day. She had probably done so for . . . what? Four or five years? She scowled. For the first time it seemed odd to her that she hadn’t recognized that place at all.

Well, of course she didn’t. She didn’t remember her parents, didn’t remember living on the island with them, either. She had been young when they’d left, and the end of her time there had been traumatizing and abrupt.

She didn’t remember because she had never come back. But she did remember Angus.

She wondered just how many people really had very specific memories of their early childhood if they left a place young and never went back. Maddie raked her hands through her hair.

"It was a long time ago," she finally murmured.

"You were five," Angus answered, obviously still thinking about the rocks. "You were in kindergarten."

"Was I?"

"Whenever I saw you after that, I knew nobody was going to make fun of me if you were with them."

"Well, that’s good."

Angus stood up suddenly. "I should go home."

He startled her, but she stood up again as well. "Do you live around here?" she asked.

"Inside."

"Inside where?"

"Inside The Wick." He frowned. "You know where."

Her stomach squeezed again.

"Can I come back?" he asked suddenly.

"Sure." He really was . . . sweet. Then she had another thought. Here was one person who might not expect too much from Josh under the current circumstances. Maybe Angus would be good for him.

"Do come back," she urged. "But during the day. Then you can meet my little boy."

"That would be good." He was already walking off into the dunes to the north of the house. But suddenly he stopped and looked back at her. "You got real pretty, Maddie."

It was said so simply and innocently, it warmed her in a spot deep inside.

"Thank you," she said softly, but he was already gone.

He was her first visitor, but not her last. Maddie had just chased Josh into the tub the next morning when someone began banging at her front door. She warned Josh not to stand up and hurried to answer it.

It was a woman.

Maddie looked out at her vacantly. Her first reaction was a stirring of purely feminine ego and jealousy. The woman was gorgeous, with an exotic, maybe Mediterranean look. She had long, thick, dark hair, the perfect color of mahogany. She had faintly almond-shaped eyes, and they were nearly black as well. She was delicate and fine-boned . . . beautiful. She was the kind of woman who could make most other women feel large and klutzy by her mere presence, and Maddie was no exception.

"Who are you?" she asked dumbly.

"Gina Gallen." The woman grinned. "Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure."

Maddie stepped back from the door. Gina swept past her, eyeing her a little too closely as she did. She was watching her with the same look Cassie Diehl had given her the previous day.

"What can I do for you?" Maddie asked warily.

Gina Gallen held out a bakery box. Until that moment, Maddie had been distracted enough that she hadn’t even noticed that the woman was holding it.

"I’m sort of a goodwill, welcome-to-the-neighborhood ambassador," Gina explained. "Except, I mean, this isn’t my neighborhood. I don’t live on The Wick. But nobody else up here is likely to stop by and welcome you home."

Angus had, Maddie thought. And Angus’s eyes hadn’t darted around, looking for ... something.

"Josh, you keep sitting down," she called down the

hallway again, and moved to take the box from the woman.

Gina scooted ahead of her, trying to peer down the hall. "Cassie said you had a little boy."

"That’s right." There was a sticker on the top of the box that said Lucisano’s. It was tied up neatly with a string. "You didn’t have to go to this trouble."

"No trouble," Gina said, still trying to look into the bathroom. "My family owns the place. The bakery, I mean. It’s a lemon cheesecake. Our specialty."

"Ah."

"Can I meet your son?"

"He’s taking a bath. Maybe some other time."

"Is he . . . Cassie said something was wrong with him."

Every instinct inside Maddie stiffened. "He’s fine," she said shortly. "Look, I’ve—"

"Cassie said you don’t remember living here before." Why the hell was everyone so fascinated by that? "I left young," Maddie snapped.

"So you don’t remember
anything
?"

Maddie didn’t answer. Her heart was thumping hard. Gina rushed on, unperturbed. "Cassie said you’re going to stay for three months."

"Cassie is a regular font of information, isn’t she?" "Huh?"

She couldn’t decide if she liked Gina Gallen or not. On one hand, the woman was nosy, intrusive. On the other hand, she had gone out of her way to bring the cheesecake, and she had an infectious grin. Maddie shook her head.

"Never mind."

"Well, listen," Gina went on, "what I really stopped by to tell you is that on Friday nights—tomorrow night—we all gather down at the Sandbar for happy

hour. It’s a great time. Everybody’s there. I mean, if you want to have any kind of life at all while you’re here, then that’s the place to find it."

"The Sandbar," Maddie repeated.

"It’s all the way down at the south end of the big island, on the beach."

All the way, Maddie thought. She grinned to herself. What, five miles?

"I'll think about it." She wouldn’t go, of course. She couldn’t. She could just see Josh in a raucous, smoky bar. He’d shrink completely into himself, even if it was the kind of place one might take a six-year-old, which it didn’t sound to be.

"My little sister can baby-sit, if you want," Gina went on, as though she had read her mind. "Dana’s real good with kids. She’s fifteen. The high school’s over on the mainland now—they cut this one back to kindergarten through eighth when the mainlanders started moving in and there were too many kids. But the ferry brings the high schoolers home by five. So Dana could be up here by five-thirty, just in time to get you to the Sandbar before all the fun starts."

"I’ll let you know."

"Well, you can call me at the bakery. Lucisano’s, on Tenth Street. Or you could just tell Cassie. You know where to find her."

"Yes." She would not leave Josh with Dana, Maddie thought. Certainly not under the current circumstances. But she shrugged enigmatically, not willing to argue about it, and something told her that this woman would argue.

Gina flashed that grin again, then the door banged as she waved gaily and went out. Well, Maddie thought, turning back to the bathroom.

"You okay in there, Josh?"

Silence. Maddie felt ashamed, knowing that on some level she’d thought she might startle him into answering. She knew, she knew that it was not something he could control.

She went and peeked into the bathroom. He was fine, still sitting down, playing with some of the boats she’d allowed him to bring, slicing them through the bubbles. "That lady brought a cake. When you get out of there, we’ll cheat and have some for breakfast, okay?"

It seemed to her that he almost smiled.

She carried the cake to the kitchen, untying the string and peeping inside. It looked delicious. She ran a finger through the lemon goo on the top and popped it into her mouth as she headed back to the bathroom.

She realized that she was humming to herself. She decided that for all their quirks, some of the people on Candle seemed friendly enough, and it struck her again that coming hadn’t been a half-bad idea at all.

Chapter 4

Angus came back early that afternoon.

Maddie was making lunch when she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. He was standing quietly and politely on the back deck this time, his hands thrust deeply into the pockets of his baggy, dirty khakis. She went to the kitchen door and stuck her head out.

"Hi, Angus."

"Hello, hello."

"Would you like some lunch?"

"I came to see your boy. You said I should."

"Well, I’m making his lunch," she repeated. "You should come in and have some with us, if you haven’t eaten already."

"Can’t come in."

Maddie frowned. She held the door a little wider. "Why not?"

"Your pa said no. Hit me. He hit you."

Maddie felt her stomach roll over queasily. This was not what she wanted to hear.

The thought was as instinctive as throwing up her arm to ward off a blow. Apparently, Beacher Brogan had been a real bastard. But then, what could she expect from a man who had driven off into the sunset, leaving his only child behind?

"He’s gone now," she said firmly. "Remember? My father ran away. And I rent this house, and I think it would be very nice if you came inside and had some lunch with us."

Still, Angus hesitated. His big, ugly face twisted. It was clearly a momentous decision.

"Please," she added.

"Yes," Angus said finally. "He’s gone. It would be okay."

He came inside and marched—lumbered really— directly into the dining room. There was no table in the kitchen, though there was a space for one. Angus sat and folded his hands neatly in front of him, like royalty waiting to be served. Maddie fought a smile and called Josh.

"Bologna sandwiches," she announced, carrying a plate into the dining room when Josh had scurried to a chair. "Okay?"

"I like bologna," Angus said.

Josh stared hard at the stranger.

Maddie realized that she had been right. Nothing about Angus threatened Josh. He seemed to sense it, seemed to feel the man’s simple, uncomplicated goodness. Even when Angus reached directly in front of him for a sandwich, Josh didn’t flinch back as he was prone to do lately.

Angus ate as if he had never eaten before. Maddie got up and made a few more sandwiches. As soon as they had finished eating, Josh got up and pulled on the man’s sleeve. Maddie’s jaw dropped, her heart moved, and she was almost afraid to hope.

There had been so many other disappointments.

One of the psychologists in Fort Lauderdale had been sure that she was close to breaking through, but all she had succeeded in doing was upsetting Josh to the point that he had freaked out, throwing books and sculptures around her office. Another had urged not rushing him, and had never gotten any reaction from him at all. Yet, when Angus got up, Josh led him eagerly into the living room, clearly reaching out with some form of communication.

Maddie got up from the table and went to peer after them. Josh dragged his building blocks out from his bedroom. Angus sat in the middle of the living-room floor, and after a moment’s hesitation and with great deliberation, he began helping Josh create a skyscraper.

Thank you, Angus, oh, thank you. She was doubly convinced that whatever he lacked in intelligence, the man more than made up for with heart. Every good instinct she’d had about him solidified.

Maddie wondered suddenly if there was a psychologist on the island, or even close enough on the mainland, to make the ferry trip feasible. If Josh responded to Angus, then that might be just the lever a professional would need to pull him the rest of the way through. She decided that she had to find a phone book and look into it.

She cleared her throat. "I was thinking about driving down to the big island this afternoon," she said, then she could have kicked herself. Angus took everything so literally. The man lunged immediately to his feet.

"Yes," he said. "Good-bye."

"Wait! I didn’t mean right this minute." But he was already heading out the back door.

Maddie sighed. Josh looked crestfallen. She went to hug him. "I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to chase him