“Not me.” She and Gary had believed in treating people equally. Anything else was a form of discrimination, of seeing the disability and not the person.
“It’s because everyone in the family feels sorry for him and he hates that.”
“Oh.” Well, she certainly hadn’t shown him any pity—but maybe she’d been somewhat rude herself.
“I don’t, though,” the girl went on, “which is one reason he stops in here on the evenings I’m working.”
“Does he come to the movies often?” Barbie wasn’t sure what had prompted the question.
“Uncle Mark comes to the movies every Monday night.” The girl held Barbie’s look for an extra-long moment. “I’m Tessa, by the way, and Mark Bassett is my uncle’s name.” She thrust out her hand.
Barbie shook it. “And I’m Barbie.”
“You’ll come again, won’t you?” Tessa asked.
“I live in the neighborhood.” Well, sort of. It was a twenty-minute drive, but this theater was the closest multiplex in her vicinity.
“I wish you would,” Tessa said, walking her to the glass doors that led to the parking lot. She held one open. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“You will,” Barbie said, removing the car keys from her purse. Sitting inside her vehicle, she let the conversation with Tessa run through her mind. Tessa was basically asking her to return the following Monday—and she’d more or less agreed. She’d need to give that some thought. She felt an undeniable attraction to this man, not to mention a sense of challenge and the exhilaration that came with it. In fact, she hadn’t reacted that strongly to anyone in…years. She didn’t understand the intensity of her own response.
As she always did when she was upset or confused, Barbie phoned her mother. Lillie answered right away.
“Sweetheart, where were you?”
“I decided to go to the movies. I’m on my cell.”
“I left you a message,” her mother said. “I was hoping you’d come by the house and have dinner with me.”
Suddenly ravenous, Barbie remembered that she hadn’t eaten anything more than some toast and a few handfuls of popcorn all day.
“Thanks,” she said. “Do you want me to pick anything up?”
“No, I got groceries earlier today.”
“Do you have your car yet?” Barbie asked. The red-hot convertible had gone back to the dealership for the same problem as before. The shop had worked on the steering mechanism twice now.
“No, but I’m not worried.”
“You’re so calm about all this.” Barbie marveled at her mother’s patience. She hadn’t complained even once.
“Is everything all right, dear?” her mother asked. “You sound agitated.”
“I am, a little.” Barbie went on to explain what had happened—without, for some reason, mentioning that the man was in a wheelchair. To her dismay, her mother laughed.
“Mother!” she protested. “This isn’t funny.”
“I know…. It’s just that I can’t imagine you being so clumsy.”
“It was his fault,” Barbie insisted. “He’s just fortunate I didn’t land in his lap.”
Instantly a picture appeared in her mind, and to her shock, it wasn’t an unpleasant one. Barbie saw herself sitting on Mark’s lap, her arms around his neck, their eyes meeting, their lips… She shook her head. She didn’t know where that vision had come from because the man was so…unpleasant.
“You can tell me all about it once you’re here,” Lillie said.
“See you in a few minutes, then.” Barbie was about to snap her cell phone shut when her mother’s voice stopped her. “Barbie, listen, I almost forgot. Jacqueline Donovan invited us to a small gathering next Monday. You’ll be able to attend, won’t you?”
“Monday?” she repeated. “What time?”
“Around six.”
“Sorry, Mom,” she said, making her decision. “I’m afraid I’ve already got plans.”
Mark Bassett wasn’t going to get rid of her as easily as he no doubt hoped.
Chapter 6
Anne Marie had been in emotional free fall ever since her Friday-night dinner with Melissa. She’d tried to push the conversation from her mind but hadn’t succeeded. Robert’s unfaithfulness hung over her every minute of every day—the betrayal, the pain, the anger. It wouldn’t hurt as much if she hadn’t so desperately wanted her husband’s child. For him to adamantly refuse her and then fall into bed with another woman, a woman who now had a child that might be his, bordered on cruelty.
Another complication was her stepdaughter. Anne Marie didn’t want to believe that Melissa had purposely set out to hurt and humiliate her, and yet she was suspicious. Still, she felt that Robert’s daughter was distressed by her father’s actions and had told the truth when she said she wasn’t sure where else to turn. Anne Marie didn’t understand, though, why Melissa hadn’t confided in her brother. Surely Brandon would’ve been a more natural choice. Had she come to Anne Marie because she wanted to talk to another woman? Because she knew that no one else had loved Robert as much? One thing was certain; the instant Melissa had seen how badly she’d hurt Anne Marie, she was genuinely regretful. In the end, Melissa had been the one comforting her.
On Sunday Anne Marie hid inside her small apartment with only Baxter for company. She didn’t answer the phone, didn’t check her messages. How she managed to work even half of Saturday was a mystery. At about noon, she pleaded a migraine and left the shop in Theresa’s hands. Thankfully, the store was closed on Sundays.
Anne Marie didn’t leave her apartment other than to take Baxter for brief walks. She wandered from room to room with a box of tissues while she vented her pain and her grief.
How could Robert have let this happen? How could he betray her in such a fundamental way? The phone rang a number of times but she didn’t answer. Her display screen showed that most of the calls were from Melissa, the last person she wanted to hear from. The messages accumulated until her voice-mail box was full. Anne Marie didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, the less contact with the outside world the better.
Monday she had to work again. Intuitively, her staff—Theresa Newman and a college student named Cathy O’Donnell—seemed to understand she needed space. As much as possible, she stayed in the office at the back and shuffled through mounds of paperwork. She didn’t feel capable of dealing with the public.
At twelve-thirty, Theresa entered the office. “Someone out front would like to see you,” she said.
“A customer?”
“Umm…” Theresa acted uncertain. “I think it might be your stepdaughter.”
Anne Marie tensed. If Melissa had come to the store, it likely wasn’t a social visit. After Friday, Anne Marie was wary; she felt too fragile to deal with anything else her stepdaughter might have to tell her.
“Anne Marie?” Melissa pushed her way past Theresa and stepped into the office.
Theresa cast Anne Marie an apologetic look and excused herself.
Melissa stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Why didn’t you answer the phone?” she demanded. “I called and called. It was like you dropped off the face of the earth.”
She would’ve thought the answer was fairly obvious. “I…I wasn’t up to talking to anyone.”
“I’ve been worried about you.