the car without her flipping out. It took forty-five minutes to convince her to take the valium. Something’s wrong. I want her to see Dr. Blessar.”
“She’s not going to see a psychiatrist again and forget pushing drugs on her.”
“She’s having panic attacks. I went to the corner to get a Starbucks and she called my cell phone five times because I stopped to grab a paper. You think that’s normal? I can work an all nighter and she doesn’t flinch and then I’m two minutes late picking up my dry cleaning and she flips on me.”
“What happened?”
“A little girl came into the center yesterday morning. Ten years old. Said her mother went to the store to pick up a pack of Chips Ahoy cookies and never came back. So, the kid sits by the window, waits three days, and finally tells the landlady. Meanwhile, the cops pick up the mother three states over with some guy she hooked up with along the way.”
He wanted to ask Michael what he would do if his mother went to the grocery store one day and never came back. Every situation where a parent disappears would remind Annie of her own mother. Why couldn’t his sister have been an engineer? Or a librarian? Anything that didn’t deal with emotions.
Michael sighed. “I know she loves those kids, but you’d think this was happening to her. She’s got to learn to walk away, leave it behind a few hours a day.”
“Abandoned kids are tough for her.”
“But she’s transferring those feelings onto herself, where she’s the victim.” He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. “Christ, Quinn, I wasn’t at that coffee shop two minutes when she called me. It’s not normal.”
“What did she say?”
“That she’s working on it. Remember last year, when that little boy’s mother disappeared at the park? I thought Annie was going to have a nervous breakdown or give me one for as many times as she checked up on me.”
“But eventually, she worked her way out of it.”
“Eventually, but why is this happening?”
Because there’s still a scared ten year old inside her who’s afraid someone she loves will disappear. Quinn shrugged. “Let me talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
“She knows how much you worried when it happened last year and she wants to deal with it herself.”
“I’m her brother, she should be telling me.”
Michael took a long drag on his cigarette and looked at Quinn. “I’m her fiancé, she should be telling me things, too. This is about more than just losing her mother when she was a child. She’s keeping something from me, I know it, and I intend to find out what it is.”
Chapter 8
He was more handsome than she could have imagined. But wounded. Untouchable. She’d done this to him. Remorse filled her soul, but not regret, the two were separate, like apologies and forgiveness. He didn’t understand this, would not understand it, just as he would not understand that she loved him, had always loved him, and that was why she left. She saw the hatred in his eyes yesterday when she removed her glasses to reveal herself. And now, he hated her more, for what she’d promised to do if he refused to help her. Evie sipped her tea, glanced at the clock on the nightstand and rewound the years. She rarely did this, what was the point? But this morning, it seemed appropriate. This morning, it seemed almost necessary.
The first weeks and months away from Corville remained a collective blur, whether dulled by the passage of time, a protective conscience, or the Percocet Peggy insisted she take to, get you through this , it was hard to say. The details, even a loose timeline of events and individuals slipped out of focus. Evie accepted this because there really was no other choice.
Peggy Smolsterski stood at the center of the early days. Friend, guide, confidant. She drove truck and transported copper and brass rods cross country. Peggy found Evie on Route 219 and offered
“She’s not going to see a psychiatrist again and forget pushing drugs on her.”
“She’s having panic attacks. I went to the corner to get a Starbucks and she called my cell phone five times because I stopped to grab a paper. You think that’s normal? I can work an all nighter and she doesn’t flinch and then I’m two minutes late picking up my dry cleaning and she flips on me.”
“What happened?”
“A little girl came into the center yesterday morning. Ten years old. Said her mother went to the store to pick up a pack of Chips Ahoy cookies and never came back. So, the kid sits by the window, waits three days, and finally tells the landlady. Meanwhile, the cops pick up the mother three states over with some guy she hooked up with along the way.”
He wanted to ask Michael what he would do if his mother went to the grocery store one day and never came back. Every situation where a parent disappears would remind Annie of her own mother. Why couldn’t his sister have been an engineer? Or a librarian? Anything that didn’t deal with emotions.
Michael sighed. “I know she loves those kids, but you’d think this was happening to her. She’s got to learn to walk away, leave it behind a few hours a day.”
“Abandoned kids are tough for her.”
“But she’s transferring those feelings onto herself, where she’s the victim.” He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. “Christ, Quinn, I wasn’t at that coffee shop two minutes when she called me. It’s not normal.”
“What did she say?”
“That she’s working on it. Remember last year, when that little boy’s mother disappeared at the park? I thought Annie was going to have a nervous breakdown or give me one for as many times as she checked up on me.”
“But eventually, she worked her way out of it.”
“Eventually, but why is this happening?”
Because there’s still a scared ten year old inside her who’s afraid someone she loves will disappear. Quinn shrugged. “Let me talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
“She knows how much you worried when it happened last year and she wants to deal with it herself.”
“I’m her brother, she should be telling me.”
Michael took a long drag on his cigarette and looked at Quinn. “I’m her fiancé, she should be telling me things, too. This is about more than just losing her mother when she was a child. She’s keeping something from me, I know it, and I intend to find out what it is.”
Chapter 8
He was more handsome than she could have imagined. But wounded. Untouchable. She’d done this to him. Remorse filled her soul, but not regret, the two were separate, like apologies and forgiveness. He didn’t understand this, would not understand it, just as he would not understand that she loved him, had always loved him, and that was why she left. She saw the hatred in his eyes yesterday when she removed her glasses to reveal herself. And now, he hated her more, for what she’d promised to do if he refused to help her. Evie sipped her tea, glanced at the clock on the nightstand and rewound the years. She rarely did this, what was the point? But this morning, it seemed appropriate. This morning, it seemed almost necessary.
The first weeks and months away from Corville remained a collective blur, whether dulled by the passage of time, a protective conscience, or the Percocet Peggy insisted she take to, get you through this , it was hard to say. The details, even a loose timeline of events and individuals slipped out of focus. Evie accepted this because there really was no other choice.
Peggy Smolsterski stood at the center of the early days. Friend, guide, confidant. She drove truck and transported copper and brass rods cross country. Peggy found Evie on Route 219 and offered
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