Chapter one

Chapter One
Anne found it amazing how, after a full day of wishing, waiting and begging for a moment to herself, as the lights went out to her daughter’s room, she would always find herself with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Facing herself and her own demons far outweighed anything her 10-year-old could dish out. Cleaning house and making ends meet are goal-oriented things — tasks she could start and finish. But those nagging doubts and fears? That sense of not being good enough to raise a perfect little miracle? That sense of being completely overwhelmed by the tasks set before her? Those were things she could not run from or put off once the lights were out.
She’d flip the channels on the TV in hopes of finding something engaging enough to keep her mind off of her past and the worries of her future, but the now always seemed to be filled with what had happened and what could happen.
Being a single mom wasn’t something she would have picked. As if she would choose to have the biggest responsibility anyone can ever have all by herself; no one to say ‘hey, you’re doing the right thing;’ no one to hold her when she cries because she couldn’t afford the latest pair of designer sneakers or help pay the bills so she could afford those sneakers.
But as usual, life didn’t go as planned. She often wondered if she’d done the right thing and if, given the chance again, she’d behave similarly. The crux of the issue was always that if she hadn’t made those mistakes, she wouldn’t have Kcaryn —a  concept that always gave her the heebee jeebees just to think about. 
After a few hours of avoiding herself, she settled into bed, but she was pretty sure she heard birds chirping before she could clear her head enough to fall asleep.
When she woke up to the sound of her daughter singing along to a Hannah Montana song, she chuckled to herself. She remembered singing “Electric Youth” until the tape wore thin when she was a girl.
It was Saturday — the day she and Kcaryn practically lived for. Granted, sometimes it was filled with soccer games, errands and hey, “where’d my math homework go,” but at least they could be together.
“Hey mom. Morning. What’s for breakfast?” Kcaryn peeked her head into her mother’s room. She had long brown hair that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be curly or straight. It was as if her hair was constantly having an identity crisis. Anne could relate. Kcaryn’s eyes were her crowning glory. They were green like a river running through the woods. Although sometimes they would lighten, when she was in particular moods — but there was always a spark. Something there was more than color, more than substance — something fiery, intelligent and caring all rolled into one.
“A cup of coffee?” Anne grinned.
“Bleck,” Kcaryn snuggled up to her mother for a minute. Anne could smell the combination of cheap shampoo and little girl.
“How about pancakes?” Anne asked. A grin lit up Kcaryn’s face.
“I’ll help, come on.” She zipped out of the room and down to the kitchen.
Anne pulled herself out of bed, stretched and looked out the window for a moment. She grew up on this street. Every house had a memory attached – every face familiar, yet not. She was home, yet a million miles away. Anne pulled on her robe and walked down the stairs slowly, remembering other mornings, long ago. Her mother never made pancakes. Anne ran her fingers down the banister, like she’d always done as a child. Moving back had been harder than she’d expected. She had thought she’d faced those demons, but they seemed to rear their heads when she least expected it.
 “So what are we going to do today?” Kcaryn was already in the middle of mixing the batter.
“Pretty soon you won’t need me at all,” Anne grinned, “I don’t know … what do you want to do?”
“Could we go over to the coffee shop and get a hot chocolate? Then the park after?”
“I guess so. Why the coffee shop?”
“They have pictures from my class up. I want to show you mine,” Kcaryn handed the batter over to her mother with a grin, “All ready.”
Anne eyed the flour-covered kitchen counter, “You work on that – I’ll work on this.”
An hour later they were on their way to the town’s only coffee shop. Anne remembered when the coffee shop was a grocery store, and before that it was a cigar shop – before that it was a deli. Nothing lasted.
The shop had a cool college vibe, with sayings painted on the wall and big leather furniture. The children’s art projects were along one wall.
“Hi Anne,” the man behind the counter smiled.
“Hey Bill. How’s business?” Anne remembered Bill from high school. He’d been a bit more popular than her, but always friendly. She hoped, for his sake, coffee lasted longer than cigars.
“No complaints. How’ve you been? I heard about your mother. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks,” Anne paused for a moment. Condolences always made her feel a bit awkward; especially when she wasn’t sure they were warranted. “This is my daughter Kcaryn.”
“Wow. Nice to meet you, Kcaryn.”
“Hi.” Kcaryn rushed toward her class display, “Hey mom, come see.”
Anne smiled at Bill and walked over to Kcaryn. Her sketch was the view outside her bedroom window – a willow tree. It was quite good for a girl her age, but Anne couldn’t help the feeling it was a bit sadly drawn – slightly more mature and worldly than a ten-year-old should be.
“It’s beautiful, Kcaryn.”
She hugged her hard.
“Bill, could we get a couple of hot chocolates over here?” Anne winked at Kcaryn.
“You’ve got it.”
“What were you thinking about when you drew this?” Anne asked, pretending to look over the other projects.
“I dunno. Just stuff.”
“Seems like you were a bit sad. Am I off track?”
“Maybe I was a little sad.”
“How come?”
“Dunno.”
“Is school going okay?”
“Mostly.”
“What made you sad then?”
“Sometimes I’m just lonely, mom. It’s no big deal.”
“I’m always here for you, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“But you’re okay right?”
“Yeah, mom.”
“And if you weren’t okay, you’d talk to me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, mom. I promise.” Kcaryn looked at her mom closely, “You’d tell me if you weren’t okay, wouldn’t you?”
“No. It’s a mother’s prerogative to suffer in silence. Anyway, what kind of mom would I be if I dumped on my 10-year-old all the time?” Anne grinned.
“I’m a good listener.”
“Being a kid is hard enough without listening to your mom’s problems. I promise if there’s ever anything serious I will talk to you about it. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“So what made you decide on the willow tree for your project?” Anne looked over the picture again. Maybe there was some hope in there, too.
“It was there,” Kcaryn grinned and Anne rolled her eyes.
“Are you enjoying being back home?” Bill brought the hot chocolates over to their table.
“It’s okay. I missed the small town feel of things, but I didn’t really have a lot of friends in high school and I brought my only family with me here,” Anne indicated Kcaryn, who was looking at the high school projects.
“You know, I always wanted to get to know you better in high school,” Bill had a really friendly smile.
“Really? Why didn’t you say hi?”
“You always seemed like you were busy thinking about something.”
“I would have welcomed the interruption.”
“I never was any good at approaching people.”
“You seem to have improved with age,” Anne smiled at him and took a tentative sip of her hot chocolate.
“I wish I’d been your friend back then. Seems like you needed one.”
“It’s never too late to make a friend, Bill.”
Bill nodded at her and returned to his counter, where someone was waiting for mocha latte.
Anne and Kcaryn spent an hour or so looking over the projects, sipping hot chocolate and talking to Bill before heading over to the park.
Anne drank in the feel of Kcaryn’s hand in hers. She was all too aware that soon she’d be too cool to hold hands or spend time with her mom. Anne mentally chided herself for jumping ahead – ‘enjoy today.’
“So what do you want to do?” Anne asked as they neared the playground.
“Dunno. It’s just fun to walk around, huh?”
“It’s good to blow the stink off,” Anne nodded.
“Softer lines …”
“Hmmm.”
“Race ya to the swings,” Kcaryn was already running and laughing. Anne chased her with fire in her heart. Sometimes running is the right thing to do.
“This was always my favorite,” Anne grabbed a swing and kicked off hard.
“How come?”
“It makes me feel alive.”
Kcaryn just nodded. They swung in silence for awhile.
“You know the willow tree picture? I drew it because Zander said to draw something I see everyday.”
“Zander?”
“My art teacher. His name is Alexander but all the kids call him Zander. He’s really cool.”
“Don’t most teachers want to be called mister or misses?”
“Yeah. But Zander says he wants us to be comfortable talking to him about whatever. Says the ‘mister’ gets in the way of that. He says real art isn’t polite.”
“Interesting take on things.”
“That means you don’t approve, right?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Anne smiled. “Is he new? Wasn’t your old art teacher Mrs. Jackson?”
“Yeah, he’s new. Mrs. Jackson left. Her husband got a job in Chicago. I like Zander better. He lets us choose what we want to do.”
“That’s good. You know, you are an amazing artist. Every time I see something you’ve drawn, it knocks my socks off.”
“You’re not wearing socks.”
“You knock ’em off so much I stopped wearing any.”
“Yeah right,” Kcaryn grinned.
Walking home that evening Anne remembered walking those streets as a young girl, alone. It was always better to be away from the house when the fireworks started. Staying off the radar was key. Kcaryn would never have to go through that — no matter what.
Despite the bad memories, the old Victorian looked quite homey in the twilight. The old porch swing was one of Anne and Kcaryn’s favorite places. Anne hoped to make some new memories in this old house. It hadn’t started out well, but things were improving. She squeezed Kcaryn’s hand as they walked up to the door.
“I had a great time today, Mom.”
“I’m glad. Me too.”
“Did you and grandma ever have special time like we do?”
“Nope. I don’t think grandma realized it was important.”
“I feel sorry for her.”
“Me too.”
“Do you miss grandma?”
“She was really sick, Kcaryn.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Your grandmother and I never really got along. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t love her and miss her. She and I just weren’t close, honey.”
“So why did you take care of her when she was sick? If you didn’t like her …”
“Because she didn’t have anyone else, and she was still my mom, no matter how messed up our relationship was. Are you missing grandma, sweetie?”
“Maybe a little.”
“It’s good to feel what you feel. You don’t ever have to hide it with me, okay?” Anne hugged her.
“Okay.”
Sometimes flashes of the past interrupt the present, a deer jumping into the middle of an icy road, sending the car into a tailspin until it stops abruptly, bringing her back to reality. Thinking about her mother was always like that. She was left wondering when the helplessness, the disorientation would stop. When or if she would finally be able to find her bearings and move back along her path. She was left feeling frightened and frustrated; small and alone. When the casket was lowered into the ground Anne felt free for the first time in years … maybe decades. It was as if the book closed on her past. It had only been a couple of weeks since the funeral. Anne new she couldn’t entirely hide the relief she felt, which probably made it harder for Kcaryn to talk about her feelings.
Going back to work at the bookstore on Monday was difficult for Anne. She kept thinking about Kcaryn and worrying. Despite how mature she seemed, Kcaryn was just a girl, when it came down to it. Was she okay? How could you ever really know? Luckily, or maybe unluckily, business was slow so she had a lot of time to worry about it.
On her lunch break, she walked over to the coffee shop, “Hi Bill.”
Bill smiled as she walked in, “Hi Anne. What’ll it be?”
“I’ll just have a coffee,” Anne held up her sack lunch, “Brown baggin’ it today.”
“Comin’ up.”
Anne sat down at one of the tables and stared out the window for a long moment. She was so engrossed in her thoughts she didn’t notice when her coffee arrived, or that there was a man approaching until he’d actually sat down across from her.
“Hi, I’m David,” He was probably a bit younger than she was, with blonde hair and deep brown eyes. He waved a bit awkwardly from across the table when it was evident she wasn’t going to shake hands.
“Can I help you?”
“I saw you from over there,” he pointed to where he had been sitting, “I was just wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me, since we’re both alone and everything.”
“Thank you, but no,” Anne blushed a bit before adding, “I was just trying to figure out a problem I’m having with my daughter. I would rather be alone thank you.”
“Oh, okay. Some other time, maybe,” David looked a bit crestfallen before getting up and leaving. He sat over at his table a few minutes before leaving the coffee shop all together.
A moment later Bill came over, “You’re running off my customers.”
“Sorry. I didn’t run him off on purpose.”
“He wasn’t bothering you, was he?”
“No. He just invited me to eat with him and I said no.”
“Ouch. No wonder he ran.”
“I didn’t feel like talking to a stranger.”
    “He was interested in you. You’re single, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have time for that stuff, Bill.”
“Well, I guess I’d better get back to the counter, since you don’t feel like talking to strangers,” there was something in Bill’s smile that made Anne feel a little ashamed of herself.
“You’re not a stranger, Bill,” She sighed before continuing, “I just feel uncomfortable when I’m being hit on. A guy takes one look at me and decides I might be a fun time. It makes me feel kind of dirty. That guy didn’t know anything about me. He just saw how I look and thought he’d take a chance. Is a guy like that going to be a good father for Kcaryn? I don’t think so.”
“He wasn’t asking you to marry him. Just to lunch,” Bill chuckled.
“Why are you rooting for him? Do you know him?”
“No, I just feel sorry for the guy. I’ve been there,” Bill refilled her coffee.
“I just can’t be bothered with some superficial guy right now. Dealing with Kcaryn is distraction enough.”
“How about a friend?” Bill’s eyes filled with an emotion Anne couldn’t quite place. Did he know more about her past than she gave him credit for?
“That sounds good,” Anne smiled.
Anne spent the rest of her lunch break talking to Bill and eating her sandwich. As she waved goodbye to him and walked back to the bookstore she felt better than she had in a long time. Bill was a really nice guy.

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A fourteen-year-old Anne was sitting by a tree, alone, eating her lunch. She was quietly watching the crowd across the quad.
“Hey Bill, you coming to the dance tonight?” It was one of the older boys asking – one of the ones on the football team.
“Nope. Didn’t ask anybody. Not much of a dancer, anyway,” Bill grinned a bit sheepishly.
“I heard Kelly wanted to go with you. Why don’t you ask her?” One of the girls of the group asked.
“Maybe I will. Is she going with anybody?”
“I don’t think so.”
The boy who’d asked him about the dance tripped a freshman as he walked by.
“Damn it Jeremy. Don’t screw with people like that,” Bill helped the kid up before getting in Jeremy’s face, “Don’t be an a*****e.”
“Thanks,” the kid scurried off.
Anne smiled a bit as she stood up and dusted herself off, pulling the sleeves of her shirt down self-consciously. Bill was a really nice guy.