the tabloid from the grocery store. Scrawled
across her picture, in bright red lettering, was a message for Abby.
“No
killers in this town!” it read. The note seemed to have been written in
lipstick. Abby's hand shook as she pulled the paper down. Intellectually, she
knew she should not let it get to her, it was to be expected. But, she could
not stop the tears from flowing. She dropped the paper on the deck, rushed
inside the cabin and locked the door behind her.
* * *
The
problem with staying on a houseboat is it isn’t easy to pretend you’re not
home. Abby didn’t have many places to hide.Any
movement she made could easily be heard from outside the door. Craig glanced
down and saw the newspaper. He picked it up and read the hateful note. That
someone in his town would do such a thing annoyed him. But kids were kids and
old biddies were old biddies everywhere. There wasn’t much he could do.
“Abby.”
He knocked hard on the cabin door. “Abby, I'm not going to let you hole yourself
up in there. You need to come out. Let's talk about it.”
Abby rested her forehead against the door, letting his voice wash over her.
Unlike before, his words did not soothe her; they enraged her. She had created
a nice safe space. She had built a wall protecting herself from the outside
world. But dammit if he wasn’t determined to push his way through. The bottle
of wine she had polished off the night before had done nothing but make her
feel slightly woozy this morning.
“I
don't want to talk anymore,” she said back through the door. “Leave me alone.”
Craig
set his own forehead against the outside of the door, hearing how close she was
to it. “I can't do that, Abby. I need to know you’re okay.”
Abby
abruptly pulled the door open, causing him to stumble and nearly fall into her.
“Are you suggesting I might hurt myself?” she asked, glaring at him.
“I
just… ” he swept his gaze over her pale face and rumpled hair, “I wanted to
make sure you were feeling okay.”
Abby
laughed as she sank down into a small chair beside the door and swept her hair
up from her shoulders. With her hair in her hands, she used her right hand to
slid e the black scrunchie from her left
wrist over, quickly tying up her hair.
Feeling
tipsy, she wagged her finger to accentuate each of her words. “The key is not
to feel, Craig. Haven't you figured that out yet?”
Craig
frowned in a paternal manner as he noticed the empty bottle of wine on the
small kitchen's counter.
“I
was hoping to share it with you,” he gently critiqued.
“Right.
Because in your pretty town, with your pretty smile, everything is made better
with good intentions, isn't it?” She smirked and shook her head. “Craig, this
doesn't get swept under the rug. What happened won’t ever change.”
Craig
narrowed his eyes. “I know all about things never changing, Abby. But I also
know about not letting the things I cannot control ruin my life.I chose to move forward, not look back.”
Abby
wanted to be angry with him. She wanted to order him off the boat. But she couldn't.
There was something about him that soothed her, in a way no one ever had. His
presence, though irritating at times, offered her solace. The way he, and
Chloe, made her feel was the peace she sought when she came to Winchester Bay.
“It's
a little more complicated for me,” she said defensively.
“Really?”
he shot back. “Because I don't think there's much more complicated than a
little girl growing up without a mother.”
Abby
swallowed hard and then stood so she could be face-to-face. “Chloe has lost a
lot, Craig, but she has you. The people my patient killed? Most of them also
had families. I’m not the one who caused your wife's death, but I am the one
who caused the death of several parents, and even two children. So please,
don't tell me it can be simple, that I can walk away from all of it and live my
life. People are right to remind me
across her picture, in bright red lettering, was a message for Abby.
“No
killers in this town!” it read. The note seemed to have been written in
lipstick. Abby's hand shook as she pulled the paper down. Intellectually, she
knew she should not let it get to her, it was to be expected. But, she could
not stop the tears from flowing. She dropped the paper on the deck, rushed
inside the cabin and locked the door behind her.
* * *
The
problem with staying on a houseboat is it isn’t easy to pretend you’re not
home. Abby didn’t have many places to hide.Any
movement she made could easily be heard from outside the door. Craig glanced
down and saw the newspaper. He picked it up and read the hateful note. That
someone in his town would do such a thing annoyed him. But kids were kids and
old biddies were old biddies everywhere. There wasn’t much he could do.
“Abby.”
He knocked hard on the cabin door. “Abby, I'm not going to let you hole yourself
up in there. You need to come out. Let's talk about it.”
Abby rested her forehead against the door, letting his voice wash over her.
Unlike before, his words did not soothe her; they enraged her. She had created
a nice safe space. She had built a wall protecting herself from the outside
world. But dammit if he wasn’t determined to push his way through. The bottle
of wine she had polished off the night before had done nothing but make her
feel slightly woozy this morning.
“I
don't want to talk anymore,” she said back through the door. “Leave me alone.”
Craig
set his own forehead against the outside of the door, hearing how close she was
to it. “I can't do that, Abby. I need to know you’re okay.”
Abby
abruptly pulled the door open, causing him to stumble and nearly fall into her.
“Are you suggesting I might hurt myself?” she asked, glaring at him.
“I
just… ” he swept his gaze over her pale face and rumpled hair, “I wanted to
make sure you were feeling okay.”
Abby
laughed as she sank down into a small chair beside the door and swept her hair
up from her shoulders. With her hair in her hands, she used her right hand to
slid e the black scrunchie from her left
wrist over, quickly tying up her hair.
Feeling
tipsy, she wagged her finger to accentuate each of her words. “The key is not
to feel, Craig. Haven't you figured that out yet?”
Craig
frowned in a paternal manner as he noticed the empty bottle of wine on the
small kitchen's counter.
“I
was hoping to share it with you,” he gently critiqued.
“Right.
Because in your pretty town, with your pretty smile, everything is made better
with good intentions, isn't it?” She smirked and shook her head. “Craig, this
doesn't get swept under the rug. What happened won’t ever change.”
Craig
narrowed his eyes. “I know all about things never changing, Abby. But I also
know about not letting the things I cannot control ruin my life.I chose to move forward, not look back.”
Abby
wanted to be angry with him. She wanted to order him off the boat. But she couldn't.
There was something about him that soothed her, in a way no one ever had. His
presence, though irritating at times, offered her solace. The way he, and
Chloe, made her feel was the peace she sought when she came to Winchester Bay.
“It's
a little more complicated for me,” she said defensively.
“Really?”
he shot back. “Because I don't think there's much more complicated than a
little girl growing up without a mother.”
Abby
swallowed hard and then stood so she could be face-to-face. “Chloe has lost a
lot, Craig, but she has you. The people my patient killed? Most of them also
had families. I’m not the one who caused your wife's death, but I am the one
who caused the death of several parents, and even two children. So please,
don't tell me it can be simple, that I can walk away from all of it and live my
life. People are right to remind me
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