Where Shadows Meet(13)
“Matthew, I never even got a postcard,” she said when she picked up the phone.
Stupid caller ID didn’t even give him a minute to get an explanation in. “Analise was sick a lot. Migraines. I took care of her and didn’t get outside much.”
“She should have that checked.”
“That’s what I told her, but she’s had them for years. Hey, did you know Reece ran off with an Amish girl? Hannah Schwartz.” Silence on the other end. “Trudy?”
“When did this happen?”
“I guess after the funeral. I just heard about it. I take it he didn’t come to tell you good-bye? Or leave my gun with you?”
“What gun?”
“He borrowed my revolver.” And Matt planned to get it back when he found Reece. It wasn’t the gun that upset Matt, though. It was the way Reece had just disappeared without a word.
“After all I did for that boy,” his grandmother muttered.
At nearly thirty, Reece was hardly a boy, but Matt said nothing. She needed to vent. “He’ll probably call you once he gets settled.”
Matt used to be jealous of the relationship Reece had with Trudy, but he’d accepted it long ago. There was no use crying over something he couldn’t change. If she wanted to love a foster kid more than her own grandson, he’d let her.
THE SOFTLY GLOWING candles on the table scented the room with cinnamon. Hannah paced the living room, pausing occasionally to listen for Reece’s footsteps on the staircase. She willed herself not to cry. The special dinner was ruined. The pasta sat in a milky, soggy mess in the bottom of the pan, and the spaghetti sauce had burned in spite of the low heat. She should have shut it off and warmed it up when he got home.
She’d wanted tonight, their first anniversary, to be perfect. Reece should have been home nearly three hours ago. He’d called from Scotty’s Bar two hours ago and said he’d be there in fifteen minutes. She should have known better. When he got to swapping stories with his friends, he lost all sense of time. The outfit she wore should please him, but she was tempted to change out of the short, tight skirt into something more modest and comfortable. He didn’t care anyway. She tugged on the plunging neckline. Her feet ached from the spiky high heels. These revealing clothes embarrassed her, but he always reminded her she was supposed to please him, not herself. At least he hadn’t made her go to the bar with him tonight to show her off like he did sometimes.
She dragged herself to the tiny kitchen to begin cleaning up the mess. Her eyes burned, and she wished her aunt Nora had a phone. Here in Wabash, she felt so isolated. Reece refused to take her to church or let her meet anyone other than the leering men in the bars. Was this normal for an Englisch family? She had no way of knowing. One Sunday she’d slipped away while he was working to attend the Presbyterian church up the hill on Miami Street, but when he found out, he’d been so angry he’d frightened her and she never tried it again.
She heard the front door open and wiped her hands on her apron. Taking it off, she drew a deep breath, then walked down the hall to the living room to meet him.
He wore a smile and held a bouquet of drooping flowers. “There’s my girl,” he said, his voice slurred. His eyes were bright as he stared at her. “Come give me a kiss, honey. You look good enough to eat.”
The thought of his drunken kisses made her shudder, and she stopped where she was. “Did you eat?”
“Of course not. I wanted to eat with my beautiful wife.” His smile widened. “Come here, Hannah.”
She turned and headed back toward the kitchen. He wasn’t going to come home three hours late and then expect her to be happy to see him. “I’ll fix you a hamburger or something. Dinner is ruined.”
“Ruined?” He trailed after her into the miniscule kitchen. “If you loved me the way you should, you’d have held it for me.”
She whirled. “You were supposed to be home three hours ago. Even if you’d come home two hours ago like you promised, it would have been okay. But there’s nothing left now. It’s all ruined.” Tears ran down her cheeks, and she swiped them with the back of her hand.
His gaze rambled around the kitchen and took in the soggy pasta, the crusted-over sauce, the mushy vegetables. “I had things to do,” he said. “You have no right to question me. Don’t I give you everything you want? I buy you pretty clothes and makeup. Perfume and jewelry.”
“And I hate it!” Unable to stop her voice from rising, she tugged the earrings from her ears. “I feel like a harlot most of the time. Like all you care about is my looks. If you loved me, you wouldn’t keep me cooped up in this apartment with no friends and nothing to do.”
From the way his color rose, she knew she’d gone too far, but she couldn’t bite back the hot words that continued to spew. “You won’t even let me have a baby!” She picked up the pot of pasta and dumped it in the sink. She wished she had the nerve to throw the sauce on the floor, but then she’d just have to clean it up herself.
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Get hold of yourself, Hannah. How dare you talk to me like that? I’m your husband. You promised to love and obey me.”
Her rage evaporated as quickly as it had boiled. Yes, her duty was to love this man no matter what, but why did it have to be so hard? He shook her when she didn’t answer, and his face turned a more mottled red.