Anything for Her - By Janice Kay Johnson Page 0,79
she hadn’t waited for any good-nights from him.
Oh, crap. Now he was committed to laying it all on the line. He discovered that now he was the scared one.
* * *
ALLIE SURVEYED THE contents of her refrigerator and cupboards, but nothing appealed to her. She’d weighed herself that morning and knew she was in trouble. She’d be looking really scrawny soon, if she wasn’t careful. But knowing Nolan would surely be here within the next hour, having no idea what he would have to say, she couldn’t make herself eat.
She paid bills. Business had been good this fall, but that didn’t mean she was able to draw a huge salary from the store. Looking at her public-utility bill, she got up and turned down the thermostat. Wow. Time to start wearing sweaters.
Her stomach was balled in a knot. She tried hard to focus entirely on her checkbook balance and whether she ought to completely pay off the VISA bill or let part of it ride until next month. She noted how many minutes she’d spent on her cell phone—lucky she and Nolan usually talked in the evening and not daytime—but her mind kept flickering to him.
The pain in her stomach grew. She saw that her hand, wielding the pen, had a fine tremor. Anxiety swelled until she could hardly breathe.
What was she going to do? She knew what he wanted, what he was going to ask of her. The idea of defying her mother to this extent terrified her...but so did the idea of seeing frustration close down Nolan’s expression. He would walk out, she knew he would, and Allie didn’t think she could bear it.
If that happened, the wound wouldn’t only sever her relationship with Nolan. It would also be the killing blow to the love she felt for her mother, love that had been unquestioning until so recently.
Until Nolan.
At a sharp rap on the door, she jumped six inches. Why hadn’t she heard his truck? His footsteps on the steps? Oh, God, I’m not ready.
No choice.
She looked at the table in front of her and was surprised to see that she was apparently done paying bills. A neat pile of envelopes ready to go sat on one side, the checkbook on another. Wonderful. She didn’t remember putting stamps on the envelopes or even writing some of the checks, for that matter. It might be a good idea to check her math later, given that she didn’t remember doing that part of keeping a checkbook, either.
She got as far as the door, closed her eyes and willed herself to some kind of composure. What if she was terrifying herself for nothing? What if he only wanted to apologize for going missing this week, and maybe suggest they do something special this weekend? What if...?
She opened the door.
He was the original stone man. That craggy face was completely impassive. Even his eyes were shadowed, less clear and penetrating than usual. No, Allie realized, he wasn’t here to suggest they do something special this weekend.
“Allie,” he said, nodding.
She stepped back. “Come in. Please.”
His gaze did shift to the quilt. “You’ve made a lot of progress,” he said quietly.
She let herself look fully at him. “I’ve had plenty of time to work.”
That made a muscle in his jaw spasm.
“I had to do some thinking.”
“I take it you’ve reached a conclusion?”
“Can we sit down?” he asked.
“Oh, um, sure.” She turned her head. Here? Or at the table? “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
He shook his head, crushing her last desperate hope that this visit was casual on some level. “I’m good.”
She nodded and waved him to a chair. She turned hers from the quilting frame to face him. I want to be numb, she thought. Please let me go numb so I can think.
If wishes were horses...
She swallowed, looking into a face she realized now wasn’t impassive. It was implacable. Hard as granite.
“Allie, I know you’re hiding something. And maybe we haven’t known each other long enough for me to have any right to demand answers. I keep telling myself I should be patient.” He frowned, the first real expression he’d shown. “Funny thing is, usually I am. But you know how I feel about dishonesty. And why.”
Unable to meet his eyes again, she gazed down at his hands. “I haven’t exactly been dishonest.”
“Haven’t you?” His tone was as unbending as his face.
She opened her mouth to say no, then closed it. Her name was a lie. She was a creation,