Page 111 of The Singing Trees
The sun sprayed welcome warm rays as they walked out onto the deck, where a line of wooden chairs faced over the water. A breeze rose up from the ocean, making the two sets of wind chimes sing. The only other sound was the waves slapping the rocky shore below.
Approaching the railing, they took in the view, blue and more blue, for what seemed like forever. “This is heaven,” he said. “What a perfect day too.”
“We suffer all winter for days like these, don’t we?” she said, looking left down to the beach, where Nonna was joining Glen and Celia after negotiating the steps with her cane. Annalisa gathered her hair into a ponytail to get it out of her eyes. “How is your family?”
He glanced over, his shaggy hair dancing in the wind. “My dad died. I don’t know if you heard that.”
“No. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t a fan of Bill Barnes, but she was saddened for Thomas’s sake.
“Pancreatic cancer,” he said. “It got him quickly. He died while I was finishing off my commitment at Fort Dix early last year.”
“That was the same month Celia was born. And your mom?” She wondered if he was doing the math, figuring out that she’d been in Hawaii nine months before then.
“My mom’s pretty good; she’s dating someone. He’s not half-bad, though the bar was not high. So how long have you lived here? You’ve done well for yourself.”
“We moved here in May.” How long could they talk of trivial things? She supposed she could go on forever, because her truth would have to follow.
“Nonna too?” He seemed mesmerized by the view, his head twisting left and right.
“Yeah, can you believe it? We got her out of the Mills, finally.” She drew in the familiar smell of kelp and salt as she gripped the wood of the railing. Every second made her feel more and more guilty about hiding Celia from him for all these years, especially in the confusion Mitch had brought to light.
“What’s your husband’s story?” he asked. “I can’t imagine he’s happy with me being here.”
“I’m not married,” she said so quickly her words could have been a guillotine. “He’s not my husband. I was never married.”
Thomas looked like the Bruins had just won the cup again. “Get out of here.”
She shook her head and couldn’t help but let a smile take her over.Stop it,she wanted to tell her face, but she had no control.
“Are you single?”
Annalisa nodded with a sigh, a yes with a caveat. He was getting ahead of himself.
Interpreting her silence correctly, he said, “Look, I think there’s been some miscommunication.”
There it was, the point of no return. “Why don’t we sit down?” she asked, backing up into one of the chairs, knowing she might collapse otherwise.
He sat in the seat next to hers and twisted her way. “I didn’t meet anyone in Vietnam. Is that why you left me?”
What? Was he lying? She’d spent so many years distrusting him that she wasn’t sure what to think. With more pain than she intended to reveal, she said, “I saw her, Thomas, the two of you. I saw the picture. Don’t lie to me.”
His brow furrowed like that of the wrongly accused. “What picture? I’m not lying. I don’t understand.”
“Your mom sent me the picture of you and Linh.”
“Linh?” He looked honestly perplexed. “Who is Linh? What are you talking about?”
“The girl you were kissing in the picture,” Annalisa said, anger stirring in her words. “I understand you were at war and that things were ugly, but don’t lie to me. Not now. We’re long over.”
Thomas shifted his chair to face her and leaned forward. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I swear to God. There was no girl in Vietnam. There must be some mistake.” He was taking this accusation with great seriousness, chipping away at her wall of distrust but rebuilding another with bricks of her frustration.
“Your mom wrote that you were bringing the girl home. I really don’t see any point in not telling the truth.”
The strings of his neck tightened with anger. “My mom sent you a picture? Do you have it?” She could see he was racing in his mind for an explanation. “There was never a girl.”
Oh God, what had she done? Something wasn’t right; he wasn’t coming off as guilty. “No, I don’t have it. I threw it away.”
He looked up toward the sky, where five seagulls soared by. “Hold on...” It was a sincere search for an explanation.
