Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(25)

He didn’t need to say any more for her to understand why he had to leave.

He seemed to think Allison would be angry with him and when she wasn’t, he added, “I just had to get out.”

“So you went to the park?”

He nodded. “It’s cold and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Everything began to add up. “You…started a fire?”

“I was looking for a way to keep warm.” He rubbed his hand down his face. “I thought I’d make a campfire, you know, but I’m no Boy Scout. I must’ve done something wrong, because the wind picked up and before I knew it the flames caught—near the maintenance hut.”

“Is that what’s on fire?”

Anson bit his lower lip. “There must’ve been some gasoline on the ground or something, because it practically exploded. I tried to put it out, but I couldn’t. Then I got scared. The flames were too hot, so I ran. I should’ve stayed, should’ve found a pay phone and called the fire department. There isn’t one in the park.”

Allison’s heart pounded hard as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Anson had come to her; he needed her. They talked every day and hung out at school together. She was crazy about him, but her teachers, her friends, even Cecilia, thought he was wrong for her. Her parents were leery, too, but they’d let Anson come to the house for dinner twice. She and Anson even went to the library and studied together. Allison didn’t believe that caring about someone this much could be wrong.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

He hung his head. “I don’t know.”

In that case, she did. “I’m going to wake up my dad.”

“No!” His response was automatic.

“My dad will know what to do,” she argued. “He won’t come down on you if you’re honest with him. He’s fair, Anson.”

He still looked uncertain. “Maybe…maybe that fire wasn’t as much of an accident as I said.”

Shocked, Allison sat back on her heels. “What?”

He glanced away and she saw that his hands had started to tremble. “I didn’t mean for it to get out of control like that,” he whispered.

“You set the shed on fire on purpose? You mean it wasn’t an accident?”

His nod was barely perceptible. “Your dad will want to take me to the sheriff’s office. Allison, I can’t. I’m almost eighteen. The prosecutor might decide to try me as an adult.”

A sick feeling invaded the pit of her stomach, but she’d learned that the best way to attack a problem was head-on. She didn’t have any reassurances to give him. “They might, but I’ll be with you.”

“Your dad won’t let you have anything to do with me if I tell him what I did.”

Allison already knew this was a risk. “I know, but that’s a chance we have to take. My dad’s fair and he’ll respect you for being honest. He’ll do what he can to help you.”

“Why would he?”

Allison straightened her shoulders and brought her hand to his cheek. “Because his daughter cares what happens to you.”

Anson’s eyes locked onto hers. “You do?”

“A lot.” Allison’s heart swelled with the intensity of her emotions.

At her words, her touch, Anson’s eyes filled with tears. “No one’s ever really cared about me before,” he said.

“I care.” And to prove how much, she leaned forward and kissed him. He smiled tentatively when she lifted her lips from his. Taking him by the hand, she led him out of her bedroom and into the kitchen. By the light of the moon, which shone coldly through the window, she urged him into a chair, instructing him to wait there while she woke her father.

“You’re sure about this?”

Allison wasn’t sure of anything, but she trusted her father. He’d know what to do and how best to help Anson. She had no other alternative.

Her dad was sitting up in bed even before Allison reached her parents’ door. “What’s going on?” he asked. Her mother slept contentedly at his side, undisturbed.

“Anson needs your help,” she whispered.

“Now? In the middle of the night?”

She met his stare as he folded back the covers. “I trust you to do the right thing, Dad,” she told him, her voice shaking. That was all she would say. All she could do was pray he didn’t disappoint her.

Thirteen

“This is such a treat,” Maryellen said, slipping into the booth across from her mother at the Wok and Roll, her favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Just consider it an early birthday gift,” Grace replied as she glanced up from the menu.

“So, how are things with you and Cliff?” Maryellen asked. She didn’t bother with the menu because she ordered the same thing every time. She really should try something other than the chicken hot sauce noodles, but couldn’t make herself do it. The small family-owned restaurant ordered the thick rice noodles from the International District in Seattle. Maryellen could slurp up those noodles every day, she enjoyed them so much.

Her mother set aside the menu and there was such a depressed look on her face that Maryellen was shocked. “Mom?”

Smiling was clearly an effort. “I’ve given up on Cliff,” Grace said matter-of-factly.