“She’d have to be willing to listen.”
Roman shrugged. “Make her listen.” After a last glare, Roman took off for the parking lot at a run, intending to take his own advice.
* * *
“It’s time, Annie.” Russell Bronson sat on the picnic blanket loaned to him by Raina Chandler. After the four of them had talked, Eric had taken Raina home, leaving Russell and Annie alone. Russell remembered Raina as a kind neighbor, a good mother to her three boys, and a friend to his wife. Obviously things hadn’t changed.
And that was the problem, Russ thought. Nothing had changed. From the day he married Annie Wilson, the girl he’d fallen in love with in fifth grade, until now, everything in Annie’s world had stayed the same.
She curled her legs beneath her and stared out at the players on the field. “I’m not sure it will make a difference,” she said at last.
Neither was he, but all they could do was try. Russell patted his pocket and felt for the paper he’d taken from Dr. Eric Fallon. Before taking his leave, Eric had spoken to both Russell and Annie as her doctor. Annie was depressed, he’d said. Clinically, most probably.
Why hadn’t Russell realized it before? He’d like to think it was because he wasn’t a doctor, but he was man enough to acknowledge his own faults. He was selfish and self-centered. His desires had always come first. He’d never slowed down long enough to consider why Annie spoke and acted the way she did. He’d just accepted Annie, same as she’d accepted him.
Depression, he thought once more. Something Charlotte had picked up on and called Dr. Fallon about. Now it was up to Russell to ask Annie to get herself help. He shook his head and silently thanked his beautiful, headstrong daughter for realizing what he hadn’t.
His daughter. A woman with a combination of disdain, fear, and vulnerability in her eyes. He’d caused each emotion. And he despised himself for it. But he had a chance now to correct many wrongs. Starting with Annie and ending with Charlotte.
Annie hadn’t responded to his declaration. It was time. And he’d lead her there any way he had to, Russell thought. “How does Charlotte feel about Roman Chandler?”
Annie tipped her head to the side. Her soft hair fell to her shoulders and the urge to run his fingers through the jet-black strands was strong. Always had been.
“Same as I feel about you. Charlotte’s destined to repeat the pattern. He’ll go, he’ll return. And she’ll be here when he does. It’s in our genes.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as if that possibility didn’t bother her at all. She was too complacent, too accepting—and he’d taken advantage of that, he realized now.
Whether he’d known she was clinically depressed or not, he’d used her complacency as an excuse to come and go as he pleased. He shook his head, disgusted with himself.
He couldn’t change the past, but he didn’t want the same future for his daughter. “I disagree,” he said, fighting Annie’s description of Charlotte and Roman. “But she is destined to end up alone, pushing away any man who doesn’t choose to settle in Yorkshire Falls.”
Annie shook her head. “If you’re right, at least she won’t spend her life waiting for him to come back. Feeling alive only during visits.”
Russell looked at his wife, seeing her, their past, and their future all together now. He’d thought that by remaining in her hometown, Annie would be happy, but instead she was miserable. By choice, he admitted. “Whether she waits for Roman’s sporadic returns or she turns her back on him and ends up alone, either way it will be cold and lonely. And you damn well know it.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m not cold or lonely now.” She sighed, her breath warm against his neck.
No, Russell thought, she was accepting and he was coming to hate that word. Annie accepted. Whatever he did and whatever life threw her way. He’d once believed he could make them both happy, but that notion had shattered quickly. Nothing would make Annie truly happy unless he gave up on himself and settled in Yorkshire Falls. And even then, a part of Russell had always suspected that wasn’t the answer. Not that it mattered.
He hadn’t been able to forfeit his life for her, any more than he could get Annie to leave this town behind. He’d committed himself to her. They’d each chosen their way of life. He couldn’t say they lived full or happy lives; still, they carried on. He loved her as much now as he had way back when. But he’d done no one a favor by letting her have her way.
Least of all his daughter.
Charlotte deserved to choose her destiny as well. But she deserved to make an educated decision. “She needs to know, Annie. She needs to understand the choices we made.”
“What if she hates me?”
He held her close. “You raised her well and she loves you. In time she’ll come to understand.” And if she didn’t, well, at least he and Annie would free her from repeating the past. He hoped.
* * *
Roman caught up with Charlotte walking down First Street. He beeped once, then slowed his car alongside her. She glanced over and kept walking.
“Come on, Charlotte. Get in the car.”
“You don’t want to deal with my mood right now, Roman.”
“Any woman who admits to being in a mood is all right by me.” He kept the car at a slow crawl. “Where are you going?”
She tilted her head his way. “Home.”
“Is your fridge as empty as mine?”
“Go away.”
He wasn’t taking no for an answer. In fact, he had three things guaranteed to change her mind. “I’ll take you for Chinese food, I’ll get you out of town, and I won’t discuss your father.”
She paused.
“And in case those promises don’t sway you, I’ll start honking the horn, making a scene, and I won’t stop until you’re buckled in next to me. The choice is yours.”
She swung around, yanked open the door, and flung herself into the seat beside him. “It was the Chinese food that got to me.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t presume anything else.”
“Good. Because I wouldn’t, for one second, want you to think it had anything to do with your charm.”
He hit the gas pedal and headed on out of town. “You think I’m charming?” he asked.
Arms folded, she eyed him warily.
In the wake of her silence, he said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Obviously she wasn’t in the mood for verbal games. That was okay. As long as she was within two feet of him and he could keep an eye on her, he was happy.
Twenty minutes later, they were seated in a Chinese restaurant—red velvet brocade wallpaper and dark sconce lighting added to the ambience.
A waiter led them to a corner table, half booth, half with chairs. A family of four, two adults and two young boys, were noisily eating beside them on the right. A fish tank sat in one corner and an indoor pond full of tropical fish was located to their right.
“Okay with you?” Roman asked Charlotte, of the table. He didn’t mind the kids, but he couldn’t gauge her mood.
A smile pulled at her lips. “As long as I don’t order fish, this is fine.” She slid into the booth.