Page 40 of The Heart That Breaks
“Promise me we’ll pick up where we left off?” he asks softly.
And I’m laughing a little, wondering if he just read my mind. “I promise.”
*
WHEN WE WALK into the kitchen, Mrs. Hanson is stirring something in a frying pan on the stove. Henry is lying on the floor next to her feet, looking up at her with the certainty that there is another treat coming. Whatever she’s cooking smells wonderful, and I’m overcome with a desire to stay here in this house, a place where Henry is so clearly welcome. Where we’re both welcome.
He looks up and spotting me, thumps his tail against the floor. “Thank you for watching after Henry, Mrs. Hanson,” I say.
She turns from the stove with a smile. “It was nothing but my pleasure. Henry is a doll. And I have to say he loves my cooking.”
I smile at her, truly thankful for the way she has treated him. At the same time, I’m overcome with guilt at the fact that I’m going to be taking him back to that stupid blue barrel where he’ll be tied with a chain. I can barely stand the thought of it, but I know I don’t have any other choice, so I pat the side of my leg and call Henry to come.
He gets up, glancing back at Mrs. Hanson as if he realizes that he’ll be leaving this very comfortable place and the woman who seems to like him enough to want him in her kitchen.
Nathan tells his mom he’s taking us home, and I thank her for her hospitality.
“Come back anytime, Ann-Eizabeth. And you too, Henry.”
Once we’re in the BMW, Henry in the back seat, I make a pretense of rearranging the contents of my backpack so that I don’t have to look at Nathan.
We’re driving down the street when he says, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, but my voice cracks a little, and he reaches across to squeeze my hand.
“What is it?”
I shake my head, managing, “Your house is wonderful. And so is your mom.”
He leaves his hand on top of mine for a moment, then turns it so that our fingers intertwine. “You can stay. Both of you.”
I can’t bring myself to look at him. I know if I do, I’m going to burst into tears and make a complete fool of myself. “We have to get home.”
“I mean for good, Ann-Elizabeth.”
I do look at him then, unable to hide my surprise. “Surely you know how crazy that sounds.”
“Crazy is taking you back to a place where you don’t feel safe and your dog has to stay outside all the time.”
“I never told you I don’t feel safe.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I can tell.”
“We’re fine. I can take care of us.”
“And that’s supposed to reassure me?”
“Nathan, we haven’t known each other long enough for you to feel any kind of responsibility for me. Besides, that’s not what I want you to feel for me.”
I stop there, realizing I have given far too much of myself away.
“What do you want me to feel?”
I look out the window and try to find a light note. “Nathan. This needs to slow down.”
“We can do that. But I need to know you’re safe at night.”
“Lance is a jerk, but he’s not completely stupid.” Even as I say the words, I wonder if I am deceiving myself.
