Chapter 6

Richie wandered into the little kitchen and found it warm and tidy, like the living room.  He stood in the center of the room for a minute, looking around.  His gaze swept over the sink, stove, and counters, past the refrigerator in the corner, and across the blue gingham curtain hiding what he assumed was the pantry. 

His eyes settled on the small table nestled under a window, two facing chairs tucked under opposite sides.  On the tabletop was a mason jar overflowing with a huge lilac blossom.   Its sweet scent filled the little room and tugged at Richie’s heart.  It reminded him of the lilac bush just outside the back door at his Ma’s house in Jersey.

In a couple days that would be his home again too, and he’d come home to the scent of lilacs every summer day after his shift at the factory.  Just like his old man.

Richie shook his head to clear away the depressing thought.  He didn’t want to dwell on that now. 

Richie turned away from the table and pulled open the fridge.  He stooped to look inside, then chuckled when he saw the remnants of a pie and a cake next to several plastic-wrap-covered dishes.  On the shelf under the desserts sat a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.  Richie pulled two cans from the plastic loops and swung the refrigerator door shut before heading back into the living room.

He stood alone in the center of the living room for a minute, a beer in each hand, looking around.  He wasn’t sure what to do; Annie was still absent.  He didn’t want to be impolite by turning on the television or stereo, and he felt a little strange about sitting on one of the pink chairs without invitation. 

A flutter of lace on the breeze drew his eye to the window and to the moonlight-illuminated tableau beyond the porch railing.  With a little smile Richie pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch.

He settled on the top of the two steps, then set one beer on the porch floor beside him before pulling the tab on the other.  He took a long drink of the cold beverage, sighing gratefully as it slid down his dry throat.  It tasted damned good after the day he had endured.

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees Richie gazed out over the marsh, watching the grass wave hypnotically in the gentle breeze.  He could see little glints of silver in between the rushes, where the moonlight caught the water.   Far beyond the edge of the marsh swelled a dark mass of dunes, breaking Richie’s view of the shimmering expanse of silver that was the Atlantic Ocean. 

As he savored another swallow of cold beer Richie’s eyes remained on the horizon, watching the light dance on the waves of the sea.  He realized this was the same body of water he had grown up swimming and surfing in, on the Jersey shore.  But somehow this ocean seemed to exist a whole world away from the world he knew. 

Pondering that thought, Richie became aware of the sounds of the night; the chirps of crickets and frogs in the marsh and the rustling of the grasses and the branches of the trees behind the house.  It was peaceful, soothing. Richie felt himself relax as he sipped at his beer and watched the water.

Several minutes later another sound drifted through the night air – music.  Richie heard Annie lower the lid on the console stereo seconds before she pushed open the screen door and stepped out on the porch.  “Hey there,” she said softly as she crouched to settle beside him on the step.  “How’s that beer taste?”

“Great.” Richie grinned and reached for the unopened can.  “Here.”  Remembering his manners in the nick of time, he hastily set his can on the porch and pulled the tab on Annie’s beverage before offering it to her.

“Thanks.  Cheers.”  Annie raised the can in salute before taking a long swallow.  “Ahhhh.  Now that’s the way to unwind after a long day at work.  I’ve been craving a cold one all day.”  She mimicked his pose, leaning forward to rest her forearms on her elbows as she looked out over the marsh with a contented sigh.

Richie nodded and took another drink, turning his gaze back to the horizon.  The corner of his mouth twitched upward as he slyly glanced sideways at Annie.  She had pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, and soft wisps of honey-colored hair floated over her cheeks, stirring gently in the night breeze.  Her lips shone in the moonlight, full and moist and curved into a relaxed smile.

Richie’s glance dropped lower and he felt his pulse accelerate.  As promised, Annie had changed from her work clothes into more comfortable attire.  She was now wearing short green terrycloth shorts and a baggy light-gray tank top that bared her shoulders, arms, and an expanse of sunkissed chest.  Richie swallowed hard as he glimpsed the side of her round breast in the gaping underarm opening of the tank.  Feeling himself blush, he quickly redirected his gaze toward the marshes.

“It’s quiet out here,” he observed awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

“Mmm hmm.  Peaceful.”  Annie drew in and blew out a slow breath.  “Relaxing.”  She shifted on the step, turning her body more toward Richie’s, bending her knees and tucking one leg under the other.  “Probably a lot different than what you’re used to up North.”

Richie nodded and took another drink of beer, trying desperately to keep his eyes from dropping to her chest.  “Yeah.  Jersey’s not quiet.  At least not the part I’m from.”

“You live in the city?”  Annie sipped at her beer, silently reminding herself to converse, not pry.

“Kinda.  I guess it’s more of a suburb.”  Richie chuckled.  “Blocks and blocks of houses, lots of kids.  Families.  It’s a good neighborhood.  Everybody knows everybody, takes care of each other.”

Annie smiled at the warmth in Richie’s voice.  “Sounds nice.  Not so different from here.  We all look after each other too.  We just don’t live side-by-side.”

Richie laughed.  “Yeah, you can say that again.  I wasn’t quite sure where you were taking me when we drove out into the woods.”

“Worried?”  Annie’s tease was playful.  “What, you were afraid I was gonna drag you out to some swamp and you’d never be heard from again?”

“Naw, I can take care of myself.”  Richie grinned, his voice softening with the irony of his statement, given the fact that she had rescued him from the roadside earlier in the day.  “Well, sorta, anyway.”

Annie laughed and took another drink of beer.  “Well, you don’t have to worry.  I’m not quite ready to feed you to the gators yet.  But we’ll see how the weekend goes.”  She smiled at Richie’s obvious glance toward the water.  “So, what are you gonna do when you get back up to New Jersey?”

Richie shrugged.  “Get a job.”  He dropped his gaze to the beer can in his hands.  “Can’t just hang around, sponging off my folks forever.  My Dad’s in the Union; he’ll probably be able to get me a job at the factory.”

“What kind of work do you do?  Did you do, before you came down South?”

Richie snorted ironically.  “Well, I didn’t do much.  I worked a few jobs here and there, nothin’ exciting.   Went to college for awhile, but it wasn’t really for me.”

Annie cocked her head to the side.  “Really?  What did you study?”

“Psychology.”  Richie smirked.  “And girls.”  He chuckled at his admission.  “Mostly girls, definitely more than the classes I signed up for.”

Annie tossed her head back as she laughed, her chest bobbing with the movement.  Richie’s eyes immediately dropped to her bouncing breasts.  He felt a surge of heat in his groin before hauling his gaze back up to Annie’s face.  He hastily took another gulp of beer, draining his can.

“Well, somehow I can picture that.  Bet the psychology classes came in handy for the… extracurricular activities.”  Annie smiled at Richie for a moment.  In the moonlight she could see the rosy flush on his cheeks.  Realizing she was making him uncomfortable, Annie decided not to tease him too much.  She didn’t want to embarrass or fluster him now that he had started to open up a bit to her. 

“Actually, I’m planning to go to college soon.  As soon as I can save up enough money for tuition.”

Richie arched a brow at Annie’s disclosure.  “Really?  Cool.  What do you want to study?”

“Nursing.”

Richie smiled at that.  It didn’t surprise him at all that Annabelle would want to pursue a career in which she could help people.  “That’s great.  A lot of school, though.  Hard classes.”

Annie nodded.  “Yeah.  But I really feel it’s what I’m meant to do.  After seeing all those wonderful women who helped my Mama when she was dying of cancer… Well, I want to be able to take care of people like that.  Especially kids.”

Richie sucked in a breath at Annie’s words.  Her mom had died of cancer.  She had made the revelation so simply, so calmly, without sadness or emotion.  He didn’t know what to say.

“Ummm… that’s great. About wanting to help people, I mean. Not about… uh…”

Annie smiled and reached for Richie, resting a gentle hand on his bicep.  “Richie, it’s okay.  And thank you.”  She patted his arm before pulling her hand away, her fingertips trailing lightly over his skin.  “So, no more college for you?”

Richie shook his head, his shaggy dark locks swinging with the movement.  “Nah.  I can’t go back and screw off, wasting my folks’ money.  Hell, I couldn’t make it to most of my morning classes anyway.  I was out all night most nights, gigging.”

“Gigging? That some kind of Jersey dirty-talk?” 

Richie laughed.  “No.  Gigging.  Playing music gigs.  At the clubs down the Shore.  I was in a couple bands, and when we didn’t have something lined up I’d just go sit in with whoever was playing.”

Annabelle smiled at Richie’s explanation.  She was hoping he’d open up about his music and satisfy her curiosity about the battered old guitar case sitting in front of her stereo.  “So you were a working musician, huh?  What kind of music did you play?”

“Mostly covers.  Beatles, Stones, Doors… stuff like that.  But we did some original music too.  I wrote a few songs, some I thought were pretty good.”  He hesitated, then his voice softened as he continued.  “But I guess they weren’t as good as I thought.”

Annie’s heart squeezed at the melancholy in Richie’s tone.  She hated to hear it; he seemed to finally be relaxing as he talked about music and his home.  “Richie, I’m sure they were great.  In fact, why don’t you let me be the judge?”  She waved a hand toward the door.  “Play something for me and I’ll give you my honest opinion.”

Richie couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, even as he shook his head.  “Naw… Not tonight, anyway.   I’m kinda tired.”  He attempted to soften his refusal with the lie.  In reality he couldn’t bring himself to even look at his guitar right now.  It was too painful, now that he had resolved to turn his back on his dreams.

Annie watched Richie closely as he declined her request.  She could tell there was something more to Richie’s story, something having to do with music.  It was obviously a source of joy to him, but also of heartache.  If she could just get him to open up, maybe she could help him.  

She couldn’t explain why, but Annie hated to see the flicker of pain in Richie’s beautiful brown eyes.  She was determined to find a way to soothe his soul, to help him smile.

But that would have to wait until morning.  She was tired and had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. 

“Well, shucks.  Can’t blame a girl for trying to get a little moonlight serenade, can ya?”  Annie gave Richie a warm smile, her heart squeezing again when he returned the expression. 

“Naw, guess not.”  Richie chuckled softly.

“I’m gonna call it a night.”  Annie gracefully rose from her seat on the step.  “Gotta be up with the chickens come morning.”

Richie’ eyes slid up Annie’s tanned, bare leg as she stood beside him on the porch.  His gaze reached her hip and he realized just how short those green terrycloth shorts were.  He felt another surge of heat in his groin as he stared at the bottom curve of her buttock, barely concealed by the skimpy garment.

Realizing Annie was watching him, Richie blushed and quickly looked away.  Awkwardly he jumped to his feet, mumbling something about being tired as he turned his back to her and stooped to pick up his empty beer can from the step.

Annie chuckled softly at Richie’s embarrassment.  She had seen his reaction when she sat beside him on the step, and she had caught his furtive glances at her chest as they talked.  She wasn’t trying to tease him with her revealing attire; when she went to her bedroom she had just thrown on her most comfortable sleep shirt, as was her habit.  Annie hadn’t thought twice about the baggy tank being a bit less than modest. 

At least she remembered to slip on a pair of shorts before joining her guest; she usually paraded around her house in her panties.  Annie giggled softly at the thought of Richie’s reaction to that sight.  As if the poor guy wasn’t already flustered enough. 

Besides, he wasn’t the only one who was looking.  As Richie bent to retrieve his empty beer can Annie found herself presented with a perfect view of his back pockets.  She smirked as she evaluated the taut globes of muscle beneath the snug denim.  His tush was as attractive as the rest of him. 

Richie straightened and paused, his back still to Annie, as he pulled in a deep breath.  Annie again chuckled inwardly at his shyness; it was quite sweet.  His hesitation also gave her a second to continue her scan of his form. 

Though she had immediately noticed Richie was tall and lanky, bordering on skinny, Annie could now see that his t-shirt covered a wiry, muscular torso and broad shoulders.  His body was long and lean, like his legs.  Even Richie’s shaggy hair seemed in perfect proportion to the rest of him; its thick, dark locks curling down between his shoulder blades.

Richie slowly turned around to find Annie smiling at him.  His heart skipped a beat as he saw the moonlight reflected in her sparkling blue eyes.  The kindness in her smile warmed him, instantly calming his hormone-driven discomfort.    

When he was able to speak his voice was soft and even, bearing no hint of awkwardness.  “Yeah, I probably should get some sleep too.”

“There’s a pillow and linens on the couch.  If you need anything else, just holler.”  Annie paused for another moment, gazing at Richie’s face, illuminated by the moon’s silver light.  She felt another little flutter in her stomach as she again realized just how handsome he was.   

Without thinking Annie stepped forward, leaning up to brush her lips across his stubbly cheek.  “Good night, Richie.  Sweet dreams.”   Then she pulled open the screen door and retreated into the house, leaving Richie standing alone on the porch.

Richie’s entire body buzzed with electricity from the brief kiss.  He stood rooted to the spot, unable to move as his brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened.  Annie had kissed him.  Not in a particularly romantic way, but he had no doubt about the affection behind the gesture.

He gulped in a deep breath, trying to clear his head. Unconsciously he grinned, the euphoria of the moment making him a little giddy.  She kissed me.  Richie swiveled his head to look at the door leading into the house, then turned around to face the marsh.  He inhaled deeply again, trying to calm his racing pulse. 

Richie watched the rippling grass and shimmering water as the he slowly regained control of his faculties.  As the rush subsided his mind began to work again.  She kissed you goodnight, you fool, his brain clarified.  That’s all.  She doesn’t wanna jump in the sack with you.  She was being nice.  She’s the nicest girl you’ve ever met.   She’s WAY too nice for an asshole like you.

Richie’s lips pulled into a soft pout at the realization.  Of course.  Annabelle had been nothing but sweet and kind since the minute she picked him up on the side of the road.  She had taken him to town, fed him dinner, given him a place to sleep… why wouldn’t she give him a good night kiss?  It was nothing more than a chaste little peck on the cheek, a gesture fully in keeping with her warm Southern manner.  Hell, she probably didn’t even realize what she was doing.  Surely it was nothing more than a habit.

Still…

Richie turned back around to face the house.  He gazed through the window for a long moment, at the hallway that led to Annie’s bedroom.  She was probably already in bed, her golden hair fanned out over the pillow, her eyes closed, those soft lips curved into a peaceful smile.

With a deep sigh and a shake of his head Richie pulled open the screen door.  He closed it quietly behind him, flicking the lock on the handle.  Pausing as he glanced again at the hallway, he then moved over to the stereo.  He raised the lid on the sturdy cabinet, found the power button, and stabbed at it with a long finger, silencing the music.  

Looking around the living room, Richie located the light switch on the wall.  Three long strides and another flick of his finger extinguished the light in the little room.

Waiting a second for his eyes to adjust, Richie moved back over to the corner where his ruck and guitar sat on the floor next to the stereo.  He quietly toed off his boots, then stripped off his socks and t-shirt and stuffed them into the canvas duffel. 

Barefoot and bare-chested, Richie stepped over to the sofa.  He smiled as he saw the pile of linens Annie had left for him:  a pink-cased pillow with a matching sheet and a homemade patchwork quilt.  Dropping the pillow and quilt on the floor Richie shook out the sheet, draping it over the couch.   He sat and reached for the other linens, unfolding the quilt and spreading it over his legs before swinging his feet up onto the couch and stretching out on his side.

With a soft sigh Richie pulled the pillow under his head and closed his eyes.  Willing himself to relax, he drew in a deep breath.  The faint aroma of lilacs and sunshine filled his senses, making his lips curl into a smile.  It was Annabelle’s sweet scent, on her pillow.

His mind was filled with thoughts of her as he drifted off to sleep.