“If you need a car, you can always use mine.”
“I can’t use your car!”
He turned briefly, his green eyes settling on her then returning to the road. “Yes, you can.”
Annabelle sighed. “Declan, please let it go. You owe me nothing. Branna is fine. Can we not move on?”
“My daughter told me she would have taken her life had you not stepped into it when you did, Annabelle. That isn’t something a father can forget, or for that matter forgive. I wasn’t there for her when I should have been, but you were, and to my eyes that means I’ll be there for you should you need it, in whatever capacity.”
Annabelle sighed again. She’d had this conversation with him before, at least three times. “Well, I’m not driving your car, no matter what you think.”
They didn’t speak again as they entered the town, and then turned right. Small and quaint, the shops and businesses of Lake Howling had labels like The Hoot, The Howler or The Roar. Immaculate from its pristine storefronts to the swept streets and tidy sidewalks, the town was a lovely sight with the lake as its backdrop on one side and the tall trees in the distance.
The house Annabelle had lived in most of her life was old. Her uncle had lived there first, and after the death of Annabelle’s mother, she and her brothers had moved in with him. It sat back from the road, and as Uncle Gerry was big on privacy, he’d planted a ton of trees which created a shield from the neighbors, who weren’t all that close anyway. Three years ago Annabelle had painted the clapboards with help from her friends, so the small place was tidy, and she kept the yard clean, beds weeded.
“Thanks, Declan.” Annabelle kissed his cheek as she got out, but of course, true gentleman that he was, he got out right along with her, then retrieved her things and walked with her to her door.
“You need anything, Annabelle, just give me a call.”
She managed a smile, and when he was satisfied with whatever it was he needed to be satisfied with, he climbed back into his car and drove away. As she lost sight of him, Annabelle slumped against the door. Suddenly everything she had kept at bay was there in her head, churning around inside.
Fumbling with her keys, she managed to get the door open. She closed it behind her, then found her favorite chair and fell into it.
Her gaze went around the four walls that made up the room, looking at the marks beside the door that she and her brothers had put there to track their growth. She saw the painting she and Zach had found secondhand and reframed, and the cabinet that housed the trophies her brothers had won. Zach’s for sports and Cooper’s for academic achievements. Was she going to lose this place and all the memories that came with it?
“Damn you to hell and back, Cooper Smith!” Annabelle leaned her head back against the chair as she thought about her brother.
She’d told him she didn’t want to speak to him again, but that didn’t stop the fear she felt over what he was doing to himself. The nurse in her knew the toll all the drug-taking and drinking was having on his body. It would break, eventually; no one could withstand that kind of abuse indefinitely. She didn’t want to worry about the boy she had raised and helped through college, yet it was impossible not to.
Annabelle could still see him as he’d left Howling on his big adventure. Healthy and whole, he had been filled with excitement, as she had been for him. She’d known she’d miss him, just as she missed Zach, but she’d known it was time for both of her brothers to take off and spread their wings, and at the time she’d believed she’d done enough for them. She’d taught them the difference between right and wrong, and tried to instill the life lessons she’d believed they needed, but it turned out that she’d failed with Cooper.
“Oh, God, Cooper.” Putting her head in her hands, she sat and cried for the sweet boy she had lost forever.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Why does my beer have an umbrella and a piece of pineapple in it?”
Ethan looked at Branna, who was sitting to his left, and then back to Jake, who had just placed the beer in front of him. They were in The Howler, the town’s main watering hole for locals. Looking around him, Ethan noted some people were wearing Hawaiian shirts and flower leis, and the ceiling had them pinned everywhere.
The place had a roaring open fire, a rustic look, and enough Green Bay Packers paraphernalia on the walls to hurt his eyes.
“It’s luau night,” Jake said, slipping in beside his girl.
“You kidding me?”
“You’ve been to some of the other themed nights before, Tex. What’s the problem here?”
“The problem, Jake, is that my beer has pineapple in it.”
Before he could react, his friend whipped it from his hand, put his fingers into the beer and fished out the pineapple, then handed it back.
“Better now?”
“You been tested lately?”
“Nope.”
Ethan just rolled his eyes and took a mouthful. “All this shit is making me itch.”
