Page 69 of Lush Curves

“Well, he’s dancing with Cindy now,” Annie said. “I don’t think I should get between them.”

“You won’t be between them,” Noah said. “Cindy will be somewhere else.”

“Oh?” Annie smiled inwardly at her son’s literal understanding of yet another common turn of phrase. “Where will she be?”

Noah gestured with his chin. “With Doctor Mac and Mirrie.”

“What?”

“I already talked to Doctor Mac, and he said OK.”

“You – what?” Annie was delighted and dumbfounded in equal measure at her son’s social engineering; even a year ago, she’dneverhave thought him capable of it, especially if it was for romantic ends and purposes. “You arranged for Sam and I to be alone?”

“Yes. You dowantto be alone with him?

“Yes.”

“OK, then.”

They looked over at Mac and Mirrie crouching down at Cindy’s level, talking to her. Cindy knew Mac, of course, from when her babysitter dropped her off at the hospital, so she was giggling and chattering away with him. She tugged at Mac’s long blond hair, then held out her arms. Mac picked her up gallantly, spun her around, tickled under her chin. Cindy laughed, and Annie smiled at her happiness.

God, if that little girl could just have that all the time. Hurting, damaged children hurt everyone, damaged everyone’s sense of justice in the world. Some things just shouldn’t be allowed to happen,ever– and what Kathleen had done was right up there on the ‘no fucking way, no fucking how’ list.

Yet again, Annie wondered why Kathleen had done it, how she could have done it. And yet again, she tried to accept that she’d never know, never understand. She wasn’t hardwired the way that Kathleen was, and even though Annie could reel off a lengthy list of her own shortcomings and weaknesses, she could also say with certainty that she wasn’t a woman who put herself before her children.

Beforeanybody’schildren.

“Mom?” Noah’s impatient voice cut through her thoughts. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“He’s waiting for you.”

And to her surprise – a surprise that was going to last for the next thirty-eight years of her life – he was.

**

Sam watched Annie walk away from Noah, walk across the dance floor. Walk over to him. She looked so beautiful in that pale pink dress, the shade just soft enough to complement and not clash with her hair. Her makeup was subtle and elegant, her hair was framing her heart-shaped face, and she was moving with a regal grace that stole his breath.

His princess.

DearGod, how he’d missed her.

And suddenly there she was in front of him, a bit taller than usual in higher heels than she’d ever worn with him before, but still looking up at him. He grappled for the words to begin this conversation, and she seemed to know that he needed a few seconds, because she just stood there and waited.

It occurred to Sam just how much waiting Annie had done for him. Oh, five weeks wasn’t forever, that was true, but it wasn’t about the time, was it? It was about the intensity of events that had unfolded, the avalanche of things that had washed down and over them, and most of all, about the pain of justnot knowingwhat was happening or what might happen.

Annie had been outside of things, in most senses, but Sam wasn’t kidding himself that she hadn't weathered the storm in her own way. She’d been left alone, left in the dark, left just sitting and waiting – and she’d met that challenge with grace and fortitude.

Not once had she texted him an angry message, or called him and taken him on a guilt-trip. In their nightly conversations, she’d never talked about how she was feeling, though he knew that she was hurting and sad and missing him, because he felt the exact same way. She’d never asked him to put her needs or wants over Cindy’s, not even to meet him for a coffee for twenty minutes, and he knew that she never would. Annie was a giving, thoughtful, gentle woman, and she’d shown Sam the true beauty and strength of the line of poetry that went, ‘they also serve who only stand and wait’.

He knew that Annie saw herself as a mere maidservant in her own life, a woman who literally brought food to people day-in and day-out. A simple woman who’d set aside her every hope for herself, her every dream of glory, in order to raise her children. An uneducated handmaiden who had denied her heart’s most secret and passionate desires, over and over, and given way to the wishes of people whose own desires she ranked above her own as more important and relevant.

In the story of her life, she’d always cast herself in a minor role, and Sam knew that if he asked her to name a fairy tale character that best represented how she saw herself, she’d probably pick the spoiled little prince’s nanny, the cook, the maid in the castle. Maybe, if she was feeling a bit confident, the princess’ lady-in-waiting.

But for Sam, she’d always always been his princess. He’d almost convinced her that that’s what she was, almost gotten her to see her amazing beauty, her fierce spirit – but then they’d been torn apart. And now he had no idea what she thought.

Well. Time to find out.

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