Page 1 of Unleash You

1

Where's Charlie?

Anabelle

“Welcome home, Ms. Copenhaver.” My new driver, Will, met my gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Thank you. It’s good to be back.” When I had to choose between starting my adult life in New York or going home, I immediately thought of Fox’s Bank, the place where I grew up.

Will pulled into the long, narrow street that led to the front entrance. Leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the familiar row of tall columns, the elaborate doorway, and painted shutters, I smiled, letting old and faded memories of my parents in this house dance in my head. Gravel crunched under the tires as the SUV trudged along the private road.

“Here we are.” Will killed the engine the second we came to a complete stop.

I took a deep, calming breath and nodded. In turn, he popped the trunk and exited the Escalade. I had expected to see my brother, Charlie, waiting for me, but he wasn’t. He was the only family I had left. With a quick shake of my head, I climbed out of the car and followed Will up the stone steps.

“Is this all you brought with you?” He set down the two large suitcases. “We were told you were here to stay.”

“I am.” I bit my lip. “These are all my belongings.”

“Oh, that’s all right.” He shouldered the door open and gestured for me to go in.

My stomach sunk when I entered the brightly lit foyer. “No one lives here?” I turned to Will and pointed at the furniture scattered through the main hall. It was all covered with white sheets. Or at least, I assumed they had been white at some point and not covered in yellow spots since day one. A musty smell like the inside of a box that’d been tucked away in the back of a closet for too long lingered in the air.

“No, Miss.”

“Call me Anabelle, please.” The word Miss made me sound like some rich thirteen-year-old. I wasn’t that girl anymore.

“Of course. Anabelle.” He adjusted his jacket, as if the lack of formality made him uncomfortable. “Let me introduce you to my wife, Tullie. She’s the housekeeper and cook and whatever else you need her for.”

“Omigosh, you’re here already.” A woman in her late fifties rushed down the grand staircase. The marble steps sparkled under the chandelier lights with a wet sheen to them. No doubt they’d been recently cleaned and polished. “I’m sorry the house isn’t ready yet. We were given very short notice.”

Odd, since I sent a letter to Charlie almost five months ago to let him know I was coming. Over the years, I wrote to my brother often. At first, he’d ignored all my letters, but after I enrolled at Barnard College and mailed him a few T-shirts, I finally got a response from him. We’d spent so many years in isolation, away from family, I was over the moon to finally have my brother back. I told him all about my experiences at school, and in return he’d tell me about Fox’s Bank and the flower beds I used to tend. After he was deployed to Venezuela, he ventured to share even more with me until I asked him to come visit or call. Then he didn’t write for almost a year. Following that incident, I never asked again.

“Don’t worry. I’m happy to help set this place right. I’m Anabelle.” I shook Tullie’s warm and strong hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you. We’re excited to be working for you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” My gaze darted between Will and Tullie. Why did it feel as though I was asking for permission to see my own house?

I faced the oversized double french doors that led to the gardens. From where I stood, I could see that even if the indoors looked as if they’d been abandoned, Mom’s flowers were as beautiful as ever. When I shouldered the door open, my heartbeat quickened. The familiar sound of happy birds chirping and bees buzzing along with the scent of gardenias broke down the last wall I’d built around my last memory of this place.

Stepping onto the plush lawn, I strolled down the narrow path as the voices grew louder in my head, along with the flitting images of Mom shifting her body in the passenger seat to look at me, Dad’s fingers on her cheek, as if consoling her.

“Mom, everyone is going. It’s not fair.”

I glanced down at the patch of grass under my feet. Mom had been standing here when the fight had started that day. One of many between us. I couldn’t even remember what the argument was about. All I knew was that it ended with the three of us at the bottom of a ditch with a semitruck jackknifed over us. Maybe coming home after all these years wasn’t such a good idea. What had I expected? Nothing could bring them back or undo the damage I caused.

“Anabelle.” Tullie’s voice startled me back to reality.

“Where’s Charlie?” I asked. Why was he not here to greet me? He’d returned from his latest assignment in Venezuela months ago. I bent down to get a good whiff of the basil plants crowding the herb beds. Everything was the way Mom had left it eight years ago.

“I’m not sure, dear.” She faced her husband, eyebrows raised.

Will shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know. We were hired by Mr. Cole.”

“Liam?” I smiled. Liam and Lilly Cole were sort of our next-door neighbors and had always been so kind to me. I made a mental note to pay them a visit later. Suddenly the urge to make this house what it used to be rushed through me like fire. I darted back inside to the living room off the foyer and pulled on one of the sheets.

Will strode around the large piece of furniture to help me dislodge the fabric. “Not Liam. Wesley,” he said and smiled when I yanked again to reveal a perfectly preserved grand piano.

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