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Her Name Was Annie Page 22
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“I’m sorry. I should’ve called to at least make sure you were up for me coming,” Francesca said once I pulled it together somewhat. “I probably should’ve waited to hear from you to see what was going on, but I guess I just let my emotions get the best of me, and the next thing I knew I was stepping onto a plane.”
“No. This is the best surprise ever.” I waved her into the kitchen and took her overnight bag from her, placing it by the bottom of the steps. “You’re just in time.” I motioned toward the food.
“Wow! Are you having a party?” Francesca teased. She took off her coat, and I grabbed it from her, hanging it in the hall closet.
“No. Just a little therapy session,” I shouted from the hallway, closing the closet door and heading back into the kitchen. I arranged the rest of the food into serving dishes, with a little more pep, now feeling as if all the food was justified since I had a dinner partner. We took a seat at the table, and I poured us each a glass of wine before filling her in on every detail of the day.
“Well, the surgery went well. Now it’s all about the recovery. Each day will get better and better,” Francesca reassured me, taking a bite of my rosemary roasted potatoes. “These are delicious!” she exclaimed, lifting her napkin to her mouth to wipe off the sheen of olive oil glimmering on her lips that coated them.
“Thank you.” I managed a smile with Jack’s prognosis still weighing heavily on my mind.
“It’ll all work out.” Francesca reached over the table, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. I was hoping she was right, but I also wasn’t going to be naïve in thinking he was completely out of the woods. Being the daughter of a surgeon, I had overhead many post-op tragedies my father would come home and tell my mother over a glass of brandy after an excruciating day at work. Dwelling on the negative and what could happen wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I needed to remain positive for Jack, for Kara, and for my own sanity.
“So what about your appointments? I’m not going to have a mob of angry women showing up on my doorstep looking for you, am I?” I snapped out of it. She had come all this way to be here, and I didn’t want to be total doom and gloom. I had to admit, it felt good to have a little amusement conjuring up inside of me at a time when I thought there was none to be had.
She took a sip of wine and laughed. “Nope. I have three other girls working at the salon who are more than capable of doing their hair. I had a family emergency, and family comes first.” It seemed so odd to have formed a whole new family in a matter of months, but there was nothing odd at all over the closeness I felt toward her.
“Hey.” Kara stood in the doorway, forcing a smile through her red-rimmed eyes. Francesca’s expression lit up upon seeing Kara in person for the very first time. “Francesca?” Kara’s voice wavered.
“Kara.” Francesca’s smile portrayed a multitude of emotions—happiness, pride, and sadness all rolled into one. She got up from her chair and strolled over to Kara, throwing her arms around her as if she had known her for her entire life. Kara reciprocated her display of affection in the same manner, busting into tears in the same fashion I had when Francesca first arrived. It was strange to see my daughter, who normally took some time to warm up to strangers, display her emotions in such an open manner. “Oh my goodness, you are such a beautiful girl.” Francesca placed her hands on Kara’s shoulders, drinking her in. Her own eyes swollen and red after meeting her granddaughter for the very first time.
“Thanks,” Kara whispered and managed a smile.
“Are you up for some dinner?” I asked gently.
Kara nodded and the two of them took a seat at the table while I retrieved another place setting. The rest of dinner was filled with Francesca and Kara getting to know one another. They spoke about everything from Kara’s classes, California, hairstyles, and Ian. Kara was obviously as comfortable in Francesca’s presence as I was, and I was so thankful she was here to temporally take both our minds off the situation.
After dinner, Kara took Francesca up to the guest room to get her settled in while I prepared us each a cup of tea. I wanted Kara to phone the hospital to see how Jack was doing, but her spirits seemed to be lifted a bit, and I didn’t want to do anything that might put a damper on that.
“Mom, turn on the news!” Kara shouted from the top of the stairs. I poured the boiling water into the last teacup, then put the kettle back on the stove before turning on the kitchen television. Kara and Francesca scurried into the kitchen, each taking a seat around the island.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Ken just sent me a text and told me Dominick Cavlan was giving a statement,” Francesca replied with her eyes glued to the television, waiting for the story to break. I took a seat as well with my gut churning.
“And this just in to our news station, Senator Cavlan, top contender so for the presidential nominee of the Democratic Party, has resigned. He spoke with reporters and his supporters just moments ago outside of his San Diego home.”
My mouth went agape, sharing a confused glance with Francesca as the television switched from the anchor in the studio to the slimy politician standing in front of a multimillion-dollar-looking home.
“I’d like to extend the deepest of thanks to all of you who’ve supported me throughout the years and for having the confidence in me to represent you. While I’ve enjoyed serving all of you, I believe it’s time for me to step out of the political arena. My family and I have been through a lot in this past year, and I need to take this time to tend to them and heal. Thank you all again, so much.”
“Mr. Cavlan, what about the new rape allegations?” a reporter shouted as he turned his back toward the camera, totally ignoring the question while heading back to the safety of his mansion.
A slow, satisfying smile spread across Francesca’s face. “Well, I’d say it was worth it. He’ll never admit to what he’s done, but we achieved the next best thing. We killed his political career, and to him that’s worse than being labeled a rapist.”
“He needs to take the time to tend to his family,” I mocked. “What a crock, more like he needs to do damage control to keep his wife from leaving him, if she had any sense at all!”
“Wow! You guys did it!” Kara beamed. “Now maybe if he has some other victims, they’ll speak out as well. If there are others, hopefully, the statute of limitations hasn’t run out on them, so he can finally be charged.” I raised an eyebrow, impressed at Kara’s knowledge of the law. “My father is an FBI agent and so is the guy I’m dating…I think I know a little bit about how these things work.” She rolled her eyes.
“If I had just spoken up sooner, maybe Karlyn Wells would’ve been taken seriously and she’d still be alive today.” Francesca sighed.
“Don’t. You spoke up when you needed to and when you felt comfortable doing it. You’re not responsible in any way for what happened to that poor girl. He is,” I assured her. “We did good work.” I lifted my teacup in a toast. Francesca and Kara did the same, and we clinked them all together in a toast. Three generations of women were sitting in my kitchen. Strong and independent, each in our own way, and I took pride in that.
Kara had gone upstairs when Ian called, while Francesca and I sat in the living room, looking at old photo albums of my mother’s. She was able to revisit my entire life in pictures in perfect chronological order, thanks to my mother’s super organizational skills.
“You look so much like me when I was your age in this photo,” Francesca remarked, eyeing up the school portrait of me as a first grader, toothless and with a bad bowl haircut.
“My mother used to cut my bangs. So not a good look!” I laughed.
“You were adorable,” Francesca scolded in defense.
We went through each year with Francesca taking everything in, asking questions every now and then. She shook her head with a bright beaming smile when we reached the album of my teenage years, after Jack had entered my life. I hadn’t realized how many pictures there were of the two of us, remindi
ng me of a time so long ago when we were inseparable.
“I can’t believe you two have known each other for so long.” Francesca shook her head, smiling at the picture of Jack and me sitting on the beach. I was wearing a string bikini and white-framed sunglasses, with my hair teased up to the sky. While Jack was sporting brightly colored Jams swim trunks that were all the rage back then and his Miami Vice-style sunglasses.
“Wow! We actually thought we were so cool in this picture.” I laughed in unison with the tears building up in my eyes. We had our whole life ahead of us. We were so young, so innocent, not knowing what lay ahead.
Francesca placed the photo album on the table and reached for my hand. “You married your Tommy.”
“What?” I cinched my eyebrows, wiping away the tears with my sleeve.
“The boy you fell in love with…you married and had children with. The same way I wanted to with Tommy.”
“I suppose I did.” I nodded.
“I think it’s time you come clean and tell him how you’re really feeling. Life is too short.”
I didn’t want to tell her I already had today while he was heavily sedated. Would I have the nerve to do the same when he was conscious? I wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. I wish I could be as brave as you.”
“As brave as me?” She placed her hand on her chest, seeming a little shocked.
“Yes. You told the entire world your story, and I can’t even tell a man I’ve known for most of my life how I feel about him.”
She sighed heavily. “What I expressed was out of years of anger over what he’d done. It’s somehow easier to let it all out when so much rage has built up inside. But when you love someone and you’re afraid of getting hurt again, you tend to tuck those feelings…the words that should be said away. I’m not going to lie, I thought about Tommy a lot over the years. I loved my husband. I truly did, but it wasn’t the same as the love I had for Tommy. I often thought to myself maybe I should have kept writing to him. Maybe I should’ve tried to contact him when he returned from Vietnam.” She shrugged and continued, “When I saw him that day in the coffee shop after all those years, I remembered how my heart would flutter over the boy I was once so in love with.” She regarded me thoughtfully through her long dark lashes. “Does your heart still flutter when you look at Jack?”
“Yes,” I whispered, becoming painfully aware of how that flutter turned into a dull ache as I gazed down at him in that hospital bed. “I’m just so confused.”
“Do you love him…and I mean, are you in love with him?”
“Yeah, I am. Although after all these years and at the age I’m at, is there really a difference between loving someone and being in love with them? I care about him. I love him, and I want to be with him.”
“You just answered your own question. Stephanie, I have quite a few male friends I’ve known for a long time who I care deeply about, and love, but it ends there. I couldn’t imagine sharing my life with them or anything else for that matter. You want to share a life with Jack.”
“I do. But so much has happened between us and so much time has passed. I mean, we’re two different people than when we first met.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe you two had to be apart for a while to be able to come together again.”
“Well, if you ask my best friend, she’ll tell you I’m taking the easy way out and settling on what’s comfortable,” I murmured.
“There’s nothing easy at all about what you’re contemplating. You had to work through so much pain and forgiveness to get to this point. That’s not so simple to do, and I think it’s great.” I sighed heavily, wishing I had a crystal ball to see what my fate had in store, but at that moment, my only wish for the future was for Jack to recover.
Chapter 39
THE SCHOOL DAY dragged on at a snail’s pace. I had been checking my phone constantly to see if there were any updates from Kara, but to my dismay there were none. I was hoping Jack would’ve showed some signs of improvement within the last twenty-four hours of seeing him. The only text I did receive from Kara was letting me know that she and Ian were taking Francesca out for a late lunch. She offered to wait for me to get home from work to go with them, but I declined. Tired, cranky, and glum weren’t suitable traits for a dining companion, so I spared them all the misery of my presence.
When I hopped in my car, I had every intention of heading home, but found myself going in the direction of the hospital instead. Unsure if I’d even be able to visit, since I was certain the fraudulence of my wife status had been revealed, I had to at least try. I had an overwhelming need to see Jack, and I didn’t know why.
After five minutes of driving up and down the rows of the visitors’ parking area, I finally scored front row parking just as someone was backing out. It was hard to believe that such a massive hospital had such a miniscule parking lot for visitors. As I stepped out of the car, the first snowflake hit the bridge of my nose. The gray sky loomed overhead with the white flakes flurrying around in the breeze. A chill in the air shot through my body, so I zipped up my coat as far as it would go and reached for my gloves inside the pockets.
“Stephanie, we have to stop meeting like this!” Ted Wagner greeted as he hopped out of a black SUV.
“Oh, hello, Ted.” I smiled, slowing down my pace as he closed the door of his vehicle and ambled over.
“Are you here to visit Jack?” he asked.
“Hoping to. Yesterday, I kind of fibbed and told them I was his wife. I’m pretty sure they’ve figured out there is no wife anymore.”
He grinned, revealing the wrinkles in his forehead. He had definitely aged over the years, but like Jack, he seemed to get even more handsome. “I think I can probably smuggle you in. Maybe today instead of being the wife, you can be an FBI agent.” He winked and held the entrance door open for me.
“That would be great.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you here to visit Jack too?” I asked.
“Actually, I have to make an unwanted visit to Guy Antonaci first. He’s being released from the hospital later this evening, and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly with the transport.”
“Oh.” My stomach tightened at the mention of his name. There were so many things I’d say to that man if I could, so much anger I would love to unleash on him. He took my baby from me, he was the reason for the rift in my marriage, and had almost taken Jack from us. I hated him with every fiber of my being. Suddenly the queasiness I felt just thinking about him or hearing his name turned to rage. A rage that needed to be released. It’s somehow easier to let it all out when so much rage has built up inside. Francesca’s words played over in my head on auto loop. She had reached her tipping point with Dominick Cavlan and discharged her wrath, and I had reached mine with Guy Antonaci. “Ted?”
“Yeah,” he replied as we waited for the elevator doors to open.
“I have a favor to ask…”
_______________
I had sensed uncertainty on Ted’s face when I laid my request out to him, but he didn’t decline. We stepped off the elevator, and I remained a few feet back while he spoke to the police officer standing outside the hospital room door. His words were just a murmur, low enough so I couldn’t hear. The police officer nodded and Ted looked my way, then waved me over to where he was standing.
“I’m going to relieve him for a few minutes while he goes and gets some coffee.” I knew coffee was code for the police officer is going to pretend he doesn’t know what’s going on while Ted was minding the shop or in this case, the prisoner.
“Okay.” I nodded, feeling the adrenaline coursing through every facet of my body. Ted nodded to the police officer, who took that as his cue to leave.
Ted anxiously assessed the area and whispered, “If any hospital staff come in the room while you’re in there…you work for the agency.”
“Got it.” I took a deep breath, taking the first wary steps into the lion’s den, but this time, I was the lion and he was my prey. S
topping in the doorway, I assessed the man sitting up in the bed, shackled to it with one handcuff. I had seen photos of him before when I was asked to identify him after the accident, and nothing much about him had changed in those years that passed. Same dark hair, same smug look plastered across his face, maybe just a little bit more weight added to his stature.
“Let me guess, they’re thinking I’ll cooperate if they send a female officer in here. Hate to burst your bubble, babe, but I prefer blondes.” His arrogance and complete and utter lack of remorse for what he’d done was even more astounding than I could’ve ever imagined.
“I don’t really care what you prefer. I’m not here to try and entice you. I’m not here to ask you any questions. I’m here to let you know what I think of you,” I snapped.
“And just how do I know you?”
“You don’t. But I know you.” The years of pent-up anger were boiling inside of me like a covered pot of water ready to combust. “You are a poor excuse for a human being. You deserve to be dead, and I wish to God you were.”
A slow, devious grin spread across his face, and it took everything inside me not to smack it away. “I do know you.” He squinted his already dark beady eyes at me. “You’re McGuire’s wife. Sweetheart, it’s you who should be dead along with your baby.” He smirked as if it was all some big game to him. My heart felt like it was going to combust, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he had affected me in any way. I wouldn’t waste any tears on the scum sitting just a few feet away from me.
I shook my head and smiled, taking him a little off guard with my reaction. Cleary, I wasn’t giving him what he wanted, which was to either have an emotional breakdown or throw something at his head. “Death would’ve been too easy for you.” I shook my head. “Where you’re going is much more fitting. Too bad your father isn’t still alive so you could ask him for some survival tips.”