Annie's Song
Chapter 33 : "I don't want to go," she said.Pretending he hadn't noticed, Alex k

"I don't want to go," she said.

Pretending he hadn't noticed, Alex kissed her forehead.

Then he turned to Maddy. "You'll write? Once a week, at least."

"Lands, yes. I told ye, Master Alex, I'll write ye every week without fail!" She handed the tickets to the conductor, then, cradling the baby in one arm, grabbed Annie's wrist. "Come along, la.s.s. They're gonna leave without us."

"If anything goes wrong, wire me. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

"Not to worry," Maddy called. "I'll wire if we need ye."

Alex clenched his teeth and s.h.i.+fted his gaze to Annie. Big blue eyes, clinging to his. As Maddy started up the steps, Annie craned her neck to look back at him. He lifted a hand to wave. Then, just like that, she was gone.

He walked alongside the train, searching for her face at one of the windows. The train began to move. He picked up his pace, desperately searching, determined to get one more glimpse of her. Just one. When the train pulled away from him, he staggered to a stop, staring after it, feeling more desolate than he ever had in his life.

When Alex returned to Montgomery Hall, the house seemed utterly silent. Feeling indescribably lonely, he wandered from room to room, seeing Annie or the baby everywhere he look d e Gone. In his study, he sat before the fireplace, stared into the soot-blackened firebox, and thought to himself that the darkness was an omen. They were gone, and there was every chance they might never come back. As difficult as it was, he had to accept that. Frederick tapped on the study door. "Migh t I get you something, Master Alex? A cup of coffee, perhaps?

Or have one of the maids bring you in some lunch?" Alex sighed. "I'm not really hungry, Frederick. Thank you, anyway."

The butler walked farther into the room. When he reached the hearth, he did the unprecedented and sat in the opposite chair. "I know it's no consolation, but you've done the right thing, sir. Difficult, I know. But, in the end, it will be what's best for her, and for the babe."

That realization was small comfort. Alex said nothing.

"Maddy will write regularly, I'm sure. And before you know it, Annie will be sending letters."

Alex nodded. "It'll be easier then, I suppose. But it'll be a spell before she learns to read and write, Frederick."

"Yessir, I know." The man fell silent for a moment, hands turned toward the fireplace as if to warm them even though no fire burned in the grate. "What you need are some projects to keep you busy. One thing the two of us might set our minds to is a mouse cage. I hate to complain, but since Annie sprang all the traps in the attic, we're being overrun. Droppings in the flour this morning, no less."

"Dear G.o.d. You tossed it out, I hope."

"Well, sir, not exactly. Given the fact that the creatures seem taken with it, I, um... took it upstairs. I thought maybe-well, if they have food up there, perhaps they'll stay out of the kitchen."

Alex groaned and rubbed his forehead. Then he gave a halfhearted laugh. "Frederick, that's mad. Feeding the attic mice? Have you any idea how quickly they multiply? I can't recall the exact figures I learned in college, but the multiplication factor is phenomenal."

"You're right, of course. Quite mad, feeding the mice." He slanted a look at Alex. "I'll let you be the one to reset the traps, if you'd be so kind."

Alex groaned again. "I can't do that. Sure as h.e.l.l, I'd catch a favorite of hers. Maybe you have a point. I'll have to build a cage for them." Recalling the incident at the train station, he recounted the story to Frederick. "Maybe we could go into business and sell the b.u.g.g.e.rs," he joked. "Five hundred a head.

What a bargain!"

Frederick grinned. "I'd be pleased to just give them away, sir."

"No problem. I could have gotten rid of two dozen this morning, easily. Incredible, isn't it? Tell people something is rare and expensive, and they immediately want one."

As Alex fell silent again, Frederick said, "If you want help with a cage, I'm handy with a hammer and nails."

"Thank you, Frederick. I appreciate the offer."

"After we've rounded up Annie's little friends, perhaps we can reset the traps?"

"There's a thought."

"As for their multiplying, perhaps I can"-the butler cleared his throat and lowered his voice-"discreetly dispose of any unwanted offspring."

"We'll have to do something," Alex agreed listlessly, and returned his gaze to the firebox.

"Don't feel too down at the mouth, Master Alex. It's not as if you can't go visit her whenever you wish."

"Not any time soon. I need to give her a chance to settle in or she'll beg to come home, and quite frankly, I don't know if I could refuse her, not feeling the way I do right now.

Everywhere I look, there's something to remind me of her or Bart. I keep thinking of all I'll miss. He'll grow so much between visits, I probably won't recognize him." What really bothered Alex was that the same would undoubtedly be true in reverse. Just the thought nearly broke his heart. He finally had a son, and now he couldn't be part of his babyhood.

Frederick sighed and stood up. "I'm a fair hand at checkers, if you should like some company now and again."

The offer made Alex smile. "You sound as blue as I am."

"Yes, well... It won't seem quite the same around here without Maddy to harp at me, will it?"

Alex glanced up. After searching the butler's gaze for a long moment, he chuckled. "I'll be d.a.m.ned."

Color flooded Frederick's face. "You won't let on to her, I hope. I haven't declared myself. She's rather... p.r.i.c.kly, our Maddy."

"My lips are sealed."

The butler straightened his black jacket, then picked at a bit of imaginary lint on the sleeve. "I only mentioned it because-" He cleared his throat. "Well, as the old saying goes, sir, misery sometimes enjoys a spot of company, and without a dose of Irish temper once a day to keep my life interesting, I will be a tad miserable."

"When I go to Albany for visits, maybe you'd like to go along?''

Frederick sniffed. "It's certainly a thought, my schedule allowing."

After the other man left, Alex pushed up from his chair and moved aimlessly around the room. When he reached the organ, he trailed a hand over the highly polished surface. Moving on from there, he paused to tap out a couple of notes on the sleigh bells. Then he went to his desk. One of Annie's ear trumpets lay on the blotter. He picked it up, stared at it for a long while, and then closed his eyes on a wave of pain so intense he felt physically sick.

From that day on, Alex's life narrowed down to one focal point, letters from Maddy. A week and a half later, the first arrived. He closeted himself in his study and opened it with shaking hands. Well, we've arrived, Maddy wrote. As small a place as Albany is, Annie was terrified when we first got here, but she is settling down some now and seems to like her cla.s.ses.

Alex gulped. He didn't want her to like it there, d.a.m.n it. At the thought, guilt rolled through him. He forced himself to keep reading.

The teachers seem to be a kindly lot, and on the very first day, she made several new friends. She wants to come home, of course. Each afternoon, when I walk to the school to escort her home, the teacher conveys to me that Annie is constantly expressing a desire to leave. I'm sure she'll get past it, eventually, but for right now it's difficult for her, and for me as well. I can't help but feel sorry for the poor wee la.s.s.

The letter went on to update him on how Bart was doing and to describe the small town of Albany and the house where Annie and Maddy lived. Alex read it, reread it, and then read it yet again. It was a short missive, and he soon had every word of it memorized.

News of Annie. Updates on Bart. Alex knew it was madness, but he honestly felt that was all he had left to live for. Edie Trimble dropped by one afternoon. Alex shared Maddy's letter with her. After reading it, she glanced up and smiled tremulously.

"I know how you must miss them," she said.

Alex doubted that. It wasn't just that he missed his wife and child. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his breast.

"It's ... difficult. There are moments when I'm not so sure I've made the right choice."

Edie leaned close to touch his hand. "Don't think it, not for a minute. This is, without question, the most precious gift you could have given her, Alex. She doesn't understand that now, but she will. Down the road, she will."

Alex could only hope.

A week later, another missive from Maddy arrived. Annie was doing well, she said, and Bart was growing by leaps and bounds. The weather had turned unseasonably warm and flowers were blooming in their dooryard. In regard to school, only one difficulty had arisen thus far; when Annie spoke in sign, she was making many of the hand motions incorrectly.

Nothing serious, just slight variances. Annie's teacher said that, given the situation, Alex had done a wonderful job of tutoring her. It was a simple case of his having misinterpreted the instructions in the manuals, a common enough occurrence, and one that was usually easily rectified. Annie, however, refused to cooperate, explaining to her teacher, over and over, that if she began making the signs differently, then Alex wouldn't be able to understand her anymore.

That brought tears to Alex's eyes. He wrote back to Maddy and asked her to tell Annie that she needn't worry about his not understanding her. While she was away, he would ask Irene Small for clearer instructional material and teach himself how to talk in sign correctly. Immediately after sealing the envelope addressed to Maddy, he penned a note to Mrs. Small to carry through on that promise.

Around the middle of April, Alex received a letter that, according to the postmarks, had gotten sidetracked and gone clear to San Francisco. When he perused the awkwardly printed letters on the outside of the envelope, he wasn't surprised. Hopervile, Orgen? There was no return address, and he didn't recognize the scrawled printing. He tore open the seal and withdrew a folded piece of widely ruled tablet paper.

As he smoothed the sheet, his attention was caught by the letter's closing. Luv, Anie. His heart caught. Incredulous, he struggled to interpret the roughly composed sentences, marveling at how much she had learned in so short a time. I mis yu. I wan to c.u.m hom. Pleze.

On the last line, she had written, I mis yu big. Alex read those last words through a blur of tears. He sank onto the corner of his desk and lifted the paper to his nose. The faint scent of roses clung to it. He closed his eyes, imagining how it would be to hold her in his arms, to bury his face against the sweet curve of her neck. The longing that filled him was so acute, he trembled with it.

When he had recovered his composure sufficiently, he penned a letter back to her, printing the words, keeping the sentences short and simple. A cheerful note, encouraging her to do well in school, to enjoy the social activities.

Those few short sentences were the most difficult he had ever written in his life.

As regularly as clockwork, letters from Maddy arrived once a week from that point on. She kept Alex abreast of all the news, but there wasn't much. Annie was doing well in school.

The baby was growing. They were all three fine.

The first of May, Alex received another letter from Annie.

This time, in addition to pleading with him to let her come home, she wrote three sentences that made his blood turn to ice . I hav a nu frend. He is def. We laff a lot.

Alex's first reaction, bone-deep fear, finally gave way to fatalistic acceptance. If Annie found someone else, if she fell in love, then their marriage had never been meant. All her life, she'd been denied everything other people took for granted. If he loved her, truly loved her, then he wouldn't let his own selfish yearnings deprive her of this one chance at a normal life.

Shortly thereafter, another letter from Maddy arrived. She described Annie's new friend, Bruce, as a pleasant, handsome young fellow. He clearly adores her, and he's wonderful with the baby, which endears him to her. After finis.h.i.+ng the letter, Alex sat in his study, staring at nothing. Was Maddy issuing a warning? The thought made him ache. Bruce ... Without ever clapping eyes on the man, Alex detested him. Wonderful with the baby, was he? The lowdown skunk, using the child to worm his way into Annie's affections. It was the oldest trick in the book. What frightened Alex was that it just might work.

Was he about to lose Annie? Without her and the baby, he wasn't sure the rest of his life would be worth living.

Agonizing over the news, he went to the stable and worked late into the night, pus.h.i.+ng himself to the point of exhaustion so he could sleep. When he finally dropped into bed, it was only to be haunted by dreams. Dreams of Annie ... dancing the waltz in the arms of another man.

On May 15, another letter from Annie arrived. After Maddy's subtle warning about good old Bruce, Alex was almost afraid to open the envelope. Inside he found only a sketch. As he smoothed it on his desk to examine it, he frowned. As she had done that long ago day in the nursery, Annie had drawn a lifelike sketch of his face and hers, the attention to detail amazing. Only in this sketch, Annie had ears and Alex didn't. No message. Nothing to explain. Only a picture of him without ears?

Alex studied the drawing endlessly, not knowing what to make of it. Then, like a mule kick between the eyes, it finally struck him what she was trying to say.

I wan to c.u.m hom, she had written . I mis yu big. And he had ignored the plea, writing back to her as though he'd never read the message, encouraging her to do well in her studies and enjoy the social activities. In his determination to do what was best for her, he had turned a deaf ear to what she thought and what she wanted, as if her feelings and wishes counted for nothing.

He had tried to lay the world at her feet, and in the trying, he had cheated her out of the most important thing of all, the right to make her own choices.

"Oh, Annie, love..."

Alex closed his eyes on a wave of regret. He should never have listened to Dr. Muir and Edie Trimble. No one knew Annie better than Alex. No one understood her better. And no one loved her more.

In a twinkling, he saw himself with her that long ago afternoon in the attic, picking up shattered china, thinking to himself that the tea party was over, but that Annie's life had just begun. In that moment, he had made a vow to do everything in his power to turn all her fantasies into realities.

Looking back, he reconstructed the scene in his mind. A cozy parlor. Annie, serving tea in mismatched pieces of china.

Annie, dancing in the arms of her dream man to imaginary music. No thick tomes. No cla.s.sroom. No hordes of strangers.

Just a simple little world, arranged to her liking, peopled by individuals who allowed her to be somebody.

A normal life ... That had been her dream. To be recognized as a person with needs and thoughts and emotions. To be loved.

To be accepted for who she was. Instead of giving her all that, he had started trying to change her. Why he'd done so was a mystery, for he loved Annie just the way she was.

Pictures of her flashed through his mind, all bringing a smile to his lips. Annie, searching through her bedding for an egg.

Annie, sitting on his knee, lips pursed, eyes filled with bewilderment, as he unfastened her chemise. Annie, repeatedly striking one note on the organ, her expression blissful. Annie, sprawled on the dining room table, skirts above her waist, a napkin stuffed in her mouth so no one would hear her scream as he brought her to climax. Annie, replete from lovemaking, with a mouse perched on her shoulder. Annie, with her luminous eyes and her gentle smile.

She was perfect just as she was. Absolutely perfect.

Twenty-six.

Alex stood at the white picket gate and gazed at the large white house. Set well back from the street, it had sloping green lawns, well-tended flower beds, and large shade trees, one of which sported a swing hanging from one of its thick limbs. On the front veranda, several young people sat in wicker chairs, drinking what looked like iced tea and engaging in conversation. Watching their quick hand movements, Alex smiled slightly. He clearly had a lot of practicing to do if he hoped to become proficient in sign language.

The gate creaked loudly when he opened it. No one on the porch turned to look. As Alex made his way up the walk, he searched the windows of the house, half hoping he might see Annie. When he reached the steps, a good-looking young man on the porch noticed his approach and stood to greet him.

"h.e.l.lo. May I help you?"

Startled, Alex hesitated with one foot on the bottom step.

The man's speech was rather flat and oddly nasal, but each word was p.r.o.nounced perfectly and distinctly. "Perhaps. I'm Alex Montgomery. My wife, Annie, is a student here."

The man's blue eyes warmed at the mention of Annie's name. He smiled, making no secret of the fact that he was looking Alex over. "You aren't as handsome as she says you are."

The comment took Alex aback, and he laughed. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed. I consider you to be my compet.i.tion." An unmistakable twinkle lit up his eyes. He extended his right hand. "My name is Bruce Johnson."

Alex glanced at his outstretched palm. After a moment's hesitation, he shook it. "I recognize the name. My housekeeper, Maddy, has mentioned you in several letters. I understand you've been actively courting my wife."

Bruce chuckled. "Trying."

"Any luck?"

"Not yet."