From the first; Jeffs family had adored her。 They had always insisted
that they would hold Jeff personally to blame if the marriage ended。 In
that spirit; they had stayed so close to Annes side that she had to
finally beg them for space。 They had eased off; but with reluctance。
Annes parents had persisted; urging her to give up the apartment and
move back home; but she refused。 She knew that as crammed with reminders
of Jeff as the apartment was; it was better than the Westchester home
where she had grown up。 To return there would be an admission of
failure…failure to make the kind of happy life her parents had。
A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of her lips。 Her childhood had
been happy indeed; even those awkward adolescent years when she was an
ugly duckling; by modest accounts。 Oh; her parents denied it; but the
mirror didnt lie; and; anyway; the ugly duckling became a swan well
before the Senior Prom。 By that time she was quiet and graceful;
thriving academically; socially; and emotionally。 Nothing in her rosy
first twenty…seven years had even remotely begun to prepare her for the
heartbreak at the start of her twenty…eighth。
Brought back to the present by a pang of hunger; she closed the
untouched book and went to the kitchen。 She flipped on a single light;
mixed tuna into a salad; put a pot of coffee on to perk; and toasted rye
bread。 With the sandwich plate in one hand and a coffee mug in the
other; she retraced her steps; flipping the light off with a nudge of
the elbow。
Her hunger surprised her。 Unusual for her; she finished the sandwich。
Revived; she sat back in the chair; the mug warming her hands as the
fire warmed her feet; and it suddenly struck her that she was beginning
to feel。 It had been months since she had smelled coffee brewing or felt
the barefoot plushness of a carpet。 But the coffee did smell good。 Same
with the burning logs and the pines outside; and her feet did feel;
albeit smooth sanded oak planks rather than the thick carpeting of home。
Pushing the glasses up on her nose; she stared at the biography; but it
wasnt a biography kind of night。 Jumping up; she returned to her room
for a replacement。 Mystery or romance…the choice was easy。 A romance
might appeal to her later in the week; when she was feeling stronger。
She took the mystery and set off。
The addition of several logs brightened the blaze in the hearth。 Edging