Chapter 23

Richie swiped a hand across the vanity mirror, rubbing away the condensation that obscured his reflection.  His deep brown eyes stared back at him from the glass.  Only today they looked different.  Brighter.  Happier.

His lips curved upward as he regarded himself.  The young man in the mirror wasn’t the got-the-world-by-the-balls kid of just months ago, but he looked a damn sight better than the sad visage of even the day before.  Yesterday he had looked tired and worried.  Today he looked hopeful.

The reason for this happy change was singing in the next room.

Turning his face from side to side, Richie decided he didn’t need to shave.  He could hardly see the light stubble on his smooth cheeks.  Skipping to the end of his routine, Richie splashed a modest amount of aftershave into his palms and patted it onto his face.   He straightened, pulling his fingers through his damp brown locks one last time, then tugged open the bathroom door.

Richie rounded the corner into the living room and tossed his shaving kit into the open mouth of his ruck before turning toward the sound of Annie’s singing.  Following her sweet voice, Richie wandered down the little hall to her bedroom.  He paused in the doorway. 

Annie stood smiling back at him across an ironing board still warm with steam, the softly-hissing iron sitting upright next to her hand.  She was still wearing just her silky slip and lacy undergarments.  Her now-dry hair shone a soft gold in the dim natural light that filtered through the sheer curtains.  Richie’s white dress shirt lay neatly smoothed across the board’s surface, all evidence of its previous wadded state erased.

“Well don’t you clean up nice?” Annie chortled teasingly, noting the careful part in Richie’s combed-straight hair.  She felt her pulse flutter at the delicious aroma of his aftershave as her eyes dropped to the little silver cross gleaming against Richie’s neck.

Richie ducked his head with a self-conscious little shrug.  “Hope I’ll look okay for church,” he mumbled.

“You’ll look just fine.”  Annabelle picked up the freshly-pressed shirt and gracefully slipped around the ironing board.   She held up the crisp garment in invitation.  “Here ya go.”

Richie stepped forward and turned, slipping one arm into a long sleeve, then the other.  He smiled at the gentle brush of Annie’s fingers as she smoothed the warm fabric across his broad shoulders.  His fingers fumbling with a button, Richie turned to face her.

“Thanks.  I’ve never been good at ironing.”

Annie chuckled.  “Have you ever even tried to iron a shirt?”  She suspected she already knew the answer to that question.

“Uhhh… well….”  Richie smiled sheepishly.  “No.  My Ma used to iron my clothes.”  He shrugged.  “I don’t usually wear nothin’ but t-shirts and jeans, so I don’t really need to iron.”

Annie reached for Richie’s chest, stilling his clumsy fingers with a gentle touch.  Nudging his hands aside, she deftly pushed the little button through the hole in the placket.  Her nimble fingers traveled downward, buttoning the white shirt over Richie’s trim torso.  When the task was done she rested her palms lightly against his chest and raised her eyes to his with a warm smile. 

“You need a woman takin’ care of you, huh?”  Her tease was gentle.

Richie shrugged and smiled back.  “Guess so.”  He raised a hand to brush his fingers across her pretty cheek.  “I like having somebody to take care of me.”

Annie’s heart melted at the tenderness in Richie’s voice.  She gazed into his warm brown eyes for a long moment before lowering her hands with a happy little sigh.   She brushed past him, moving over to the small closet in the corner of the tidy bedroom. 

As he tucked the bottom of his neatly-ironed dress shirt into the waist of his jeans Richie turned to watch Annabelle.  She pulled a long strip of dark material from a peg on the closet wall and held it up for inspection, running her fingers lightly over the fabric before turning back to Richie and giving him another warm smile.  It took Richie a few seconds to recognize that the item in Annie’s hands was a necktie.

“Here. ”  Annie stepped close to Richie, handing him the thin, plain black tie.  Her hands slipped around his neck as she gently flipped up the starched collar of his shirt. 

“Where… Who… Is this yours?”  Richie frowned slightly as he looked down at the item in his hands.  Why the hell did Annabelle have a man’s tie in her closet if she lived here alone?

Annie chortled at the tinge of poorly-veiled jealousy in Richie’s question.   She gently took the tie from his hands and looped it around his neck, sliding it against his upturned collar until it was properly positioned.

“No.”  She smirked a little as she purposely held a long pause while she fastened the button on the band of Richie’s collar.  Her eyes sparkled as they met his.  “It was my Pappy’s.  He used to like to dress up on Sundays.  A real proper Southern Gentleman.”

“Oh.”  Richie felt a little wave of shame at his assumption.   “Sorry.  You were close? You and your… um… Pappy?”  He squirmed a little at using the pet term for Annie’s Grandfather.

Annie’s smile gentled, her eyes following her hands as she crossed the two ends of the tie, looping them into a loose knot over Richie’s chest.  “Yeah.  I loved him dearly.  When I was little he used to take me to the A & W for root beer every Saturday.”  She chuckled at the happy memory, then sighed quietly.  “He took good care of Mama and me, as long as he could.” 

“He’s… gone?”

Annie nodded as her fingers worked the knot.  “ ‘Bout a year before Mama.  Heart attack.”  She tightened the knot and slid it up close against Richie’s throat, then gently turned down his collar.  She smoothed her fingers down the tails of the thin tie and smiled.   “There.”

“Annie…”  Richie reached up to capture her delicate hand, pulling it gently against his chest.  He gave her a long, sincere look.  “I’m sorry.  About your Ma, and your Pappy.”

Annie gazed back at Richie, her heart squeezing at the earnestness in his expression.  Her smile turned bittersweet.  “Thank you, Richie.  But it’s okay, really.  Time heals.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Richie just nodded.  They stood together in silence for a long moment, then Annie gently tugged her hand from under Richie’s.  “We really do need to get goin’.”

“Okay.”  Richie stepped back as Annie turned again to the little closet, where a light green dress hung from a hook on the closet door.  “Uh… I’ll wait out on the porch.”

“Alright.  I’ll just be a minute.”

Richie shoved his hands into his jeans pockets as he wandered through the little house and out onto the porch.  He leaned against a white-painted column and gazed out at the marsh, not seeing its early-day splendor as he reflected on what he had learned about Annie just this morning. 

She was alone.  Annie had suffered such sadness in her young life, losses that Richie couldn’t begin to comprehend.  Yet here she was, smiling and gentle and open-hearted.  Her life now obviously wasn’t easy by any means, yet she didn’t complain.  And she had extended her kindness and affection to a complete stranger who was down and out, lost in more ways than one.

Richie felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he recognized his selfishness.  Here he was brooding over his future, sulking because his life wasn’t going as he hoped, his dreams weren’t materializing before his very eyes.  Pouting about having to face up to the reality that his future didn’t hold fame and fortune.  Instead his fate would be a simple, honest life, surrounded by friends and family. 

He shouldn’t be depressed, he should be thankful.  Thankful that he had a home to return to and a family to welcome him back with open arms.  It was so much more than many people had, and yet they didn’t sulk or complain.  They didn’t give up.  They just accepted the truth and made peace with themselves and their fate.

Richie sighed as his heart twinged with self-loathing.  Maybe he was just too spoiled or selfish to find that peace.  Or maybe he didn’t deserve it.  He just knew that, as much as he loved and admired his parents, he dreaded walking back in the door of their cozy little home and admitting he had failed.   

“Ready?”  Annie’s soft voice made Richie start.  Quietly clearing his throat, he forced a smile to his lips before turning to face her.  His expression was less of an effort when he saw her, dressed in her summery green dress and white high-heeled shoes.    

“Yeah.”  Richie’s smile gentled.  “You look really pretty.”

Annie’s eyes sparkled as a light blush tinged her cheeks.  “Thank you,” she breathed modestly.  She and Richie gazed at each other for a long minute, then she held out the plastic wrap-covered plate in her hand.  “Could you take these?  Kinda hard to hold ‘em while I drive.”

Richie jumped to accept the platter of deviled eggs.  “Sure.”  He grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry.  Guess I’m not much of a gentleman.”

Annie smiled at his self-deprecating apology.  “Nonsense.  Your manners are lovely, Mr. Sambora.”  She leaned up to brush a light kiss across Richie’s lips before moving past him, down the porch steps and toward the driveway.

Richie sighed softly as the sweet strawberry flavor of Annabelle’s lip gloss slickened his lips.  His tongue slipped across his lower lip, tasting the residue of her kiss.  Then, with a grin and a little shake of his dark head, Richie turned to follow her.

*****    

Richie took a deep breath and followed Annabelle up the sidewalk toward the big white church.  He could feel curious eyes on him as he carefully carried the platter of eggs.  He remained quiet while Annie exchanged Sunday morning greetings with families lingering in the shade of moss-draped cypress trees on the church’s front lawn.

Richie tried to keep his eyes up, away from the tantalizing sway of Annie’s hips as she preceded him toward the church steps.  But he couldn’t stop himself from stealing a glance.  His lips curved upward as his eyes slid over her shapely derriere and down the backs of her thighs.  Richie’s groin tightened appreciatively at the sexy click of her high heels against the concrete.

“Mornin’, Sweetheart.”  A familiar voice made Richie turn his attention away from Annabelle.  He grinned when he recognized the ruddy face of the big man approaching them.

“Good Mornin’ Mr. and Mrs. Duvall,” Annie replied formally, then giggled as she accepted a kiss on the cheek from Eddie.  “How are you this fine Sunday mornin’?”

“Happy to be here, Praise the Lord.”  The big man turned his grin to the lanky young man at Annabelle’s side.  “And lookie who you got in tow!”  Eddie Duvall extended a beefy hand to Richie.  “Mornin’, Son.”

“Mornin,’ Sir.”  Richie quickly shifted the plate of eggs to his left hand, then accepted Eddie’s handshake.

“Richie, my wife Marlene.”  Eddie introduced the petite blonde woman at his side.  “Marlene, this is the boy I told you ‘bout, who helped me out at the station yesterday.”

“Of course.  Hello, Richie.”  Mrs. Duvall gave him a warm smile.

“Ma’am.”  Richie nodded his head, blushing slightly at the recognition.

Eddie gave Richie a questioning look.  “Thought you said you was Catholic?  Or did Annie here talk you into convertin’?”  He winked and chuckled as Richie’s flush deepened.

“I invited Richie to come to church with me this mornin’,” Annie explained firmly, slipping her arm around Richie’s.  “He said he’d like to hear our choir.”

Richie just nodded mutely, going along with her explanation.

“Oh, Richie, they’re just wonderful.”  Marlene smiled even more broadly at Annie’s fib.  “And our Annabelle, she sings like an angel.  You won’t be disappointed, I’m sure.”

Richie smiled at the kind woman’s enthusiasm.  “No ma’am, I’m sure I won’t.”  His pulse jumped at the little squeeze Annie gave his arm in response.

“Say, Richie.  Chick got your thermostat over to me late yesterday.”  Eddie’s eyes dropped briefly to Annie’s hand on Richie’s arm, catching the silent gesture of affection between the two.  He returned his gaze to Richie’s face, his brow creasing with as he carefully watched the young man’s expression.  “I’ll get to work on it first thing in the mornin’.  Should be able to get you back on the road by afternoon, if that works for you.”

“Umm…” Richie shifted uncomfortably at the questioning note in Eddie’s last statement.  “That’s cool.  I mean… I’m not in any hurry... to get on the road, that is.  Whenever you can get to it is fine.”  He shuffled his feet, suddenly feeling like Eddie had put him on the spot.   “I can come by and help you again, if it’s okay.”

“Fine by me.  Can always use an extra pair of hands around the shop.”   Eddie glanced at Annabelle and saw in her quiet smile that she wasn’t eager for Richie to leave, either.  In fact, Eddie was willing to bet Annie would be perfectly content if he delayed Richie’s engine repair by another month or so.

Eddie chortled quietly, then responded to his wife’s gentle tug at his arm.  “Alright, we’d best get inside.  I’m on the Collection this week.”  Eddie gave the young couple another broad grin.  “We’ll see ya after the service.  Annie, you know I’ve been lookin’ forward to your deviled eggs all week.”

Annie laughed.  “I’ll see to it that we save one for ya, Eddie.”  She stood smiling next to Richie as the Duvalls turned and headed for the church’s open front doors.

“Nice lady,” Richie observed.  “Eddie’s wife.”

“Yeah.  She’s a sweetie.”  Annie sighed softly and turned her smile to Richie.  “She’s always taken care of me, even when I was a little girl.  I used to sleep over at their house all the time.”

Richie nodded silently, only half-hearing Annie’s words.  Instead he felt his gut tighten as he realized that tomorrow he would be on his way back home to Jersey.  Away from Annie, toward his unremarkable future.

Annie saw the little flicker of sadness flash across Richie’s handsome features.  She chose to ignore it, instead giving his arm another little squeeze.  “Come on, now.  Let’s get these eggs in to the Fellowship Hall with the rest of the food.  Then I gotta get my choir robe on and get up with the rest of the singers.  Service is gonna start in about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.”  Richie nodded and gave her a little smile.  “So, I guess I don’t get to sit with you, huh?”

“No.  Sorry.  Unless you wanna put on a choir robe and join us up in the front.”  Annie giggled softly, he blue eyes gleaming.  “You could certainly pull it off, from what I heard last night.”

Richie chuckled as he felt his cheeks warm with a little blush.  “Nah.  I wouldn’t know any of the words.  I don’t really pay attention in church, even when I go with my folks.”

“Too busy checkin’ out cute girls, huh?”  Annie teased.  “Dreamin’ of Sin in the House of the Lord?  How many Hail Marys you gotta say for that?”

Richie’s smile broadened.  “A bunch, I guess.  Not that I ever get around to it.  Confession ain’t my strong suit.”

Annie leaned in close, her eyes sparkling.  “But sinnin’ sure is.”  Her low, husky voice made Richie’s heart skip a beat.  She gave him a conspiratorial smirk, then stepped back.  “Now come on.  Don’t wanna be late.”

“Yes ma’am,” Richie answered contritely, with a hint of sarcasm. He grinned as he anticipated her response.

“Richie, what did I tell you ‘bout calling me ‘ma’am’?”

“Sorry…. Ma’am.”

Annie gave Richie a faux-glare, then clasped her hands and rolled her eyes to the Heavens.  “Lord, this one needs some extra attention,” she prayed playfully.  “Touch him today, show him the Light.”

“Amen,” Richie laughed.

“C’mon, Hippy-Boy.  Let’s get you inside so God can get to work.”

Without further argument Richie followed Annabelle up the stone steps and into the church.  Once inside Annie led him through a small corridor off the entry, to a large room where a group of ladies bustled about setting out plates of food on long folding tables. 

After smiling through introductions, Richie surrendered the platter of deviled eggs to a plump woman in a pink dress and flowery hat.  With hasty apologies and a promise to chat more after the service, Annie hustled Richie out of the Fellowship Hall and down another small wood-paneled corridor.  They emerged into another tiny room, no bigger than a large walk-through closet, that was lined on both sides with hanging racks of white choir robes.

The robe-room was occupied by two middle-aged women donning their robes.  Again Annie introduced Richie with a sweet smile, then she tugged a robe from a wire hanger.  Trying to be gentlemanly, Richie quickly stepped forward to take the garment from Annie’s hands.  He held it up by the shoulders as she slipped quickly into the snowy white gown, covering her pretty green dress.

Richie blushed again when the watching women voiced their approval of his chivalry before making their departure, leaving Richie and Annie alone in the little room.

Annie fastened the last hook on the front of her choir robe and smoothed it with her hands.  “Okay, now I gotta leave you on your own for awhile.”  She gave Richie a little grin.  “You ain’t gonna bolt outta here on me, are ya?”

“Not a chance.”  Richie returned Annie’s smile.  “I want to hear you sing.”  Glancing quickly over his shoulder to ensure they were alone, Richie stepped in close to Annie, his hands moving to her waist.  “You look beautiful.”

Annie chortled softly and circled her arms around Richie’s waist, her eyes gleaming with mischief.  “You look pretty darned good yourself,” she replied.  “I’m the envy of all the ladies here, you know.  Got myself a tall, dark and handsome date for church this week.” 

Annie pressed her body against Richie’s, raising her face to his.  “You’re gonna be the object of a whole lotta sinful thoughts out there in that congregation, you know.”

Richie chuckled.  “Oh yeah.  Right.”

“Trust me.”  Annie’s voice dropped to a sultry purr.  “Them girls are gonna be out there undressin’ you in their minds while Reverend Purdy is preachin.’  Daydreamin’ about how pretty your eyes are, how soft your hair is, how hard your… muscles… are….”  She leaned up to brush her mouth against Richie’s.  “How sweet your lips taste…”

Richie groaned softly as he submitted to her kiss.  He felt his cock jump at the press of her hips against his and in reaction to her naughty tease.  Richie gasped breathlessly when their lips parted. 

“Annie… We’re in… in church.”

Annie giggled softly.  “Yeah.  I was overcome by the Spirit.”

Richie snorted softly.  “Sure you were.  Jeez… Fuck, Annie.”  Richie caught his blasphemous swear just in time, instead replacing it with a non-Commandment-breaking word.  “How am I supposed to go out there now?  I can’t walk into a strange church with a boner.  Especially not when everybody here knows I’m with You.”

Annie giggled again and pressed another kiss against Richie’s soft lips.  “Just wait ‘til you hear the organ music, then slip in from the back.  Sit in one of the last pews.  Nobody'll bother you.”  She gently disengaged herself from Richie’s embrace, then stepped back.  Annie smiled and again smoothed her hands over her white choir robe.

Richie blew out a long breath, willing the throbbing in his crotch to diminish.  “Okay.”  He chuckled and shook his head, smiling back at Annabelle.  “You’re naughty.”

“But the Lord loves me anyway,” Annie chuckled flippantly.  She gave Richie another, more gentle smile.  “I’m in the second row of the choir loft, not quite in the middle.  I’ll look for you.”  She took a step back, then turned to exit the open doorway at the opposite side of the robe closet.  Annie paused, smirking back at Richie over her shoulder.

“Oh, and Richie… I’ll be daydreamin’ about you during the sermon too.  But my daydreams will real memories, not fantasies.”  With that, Annie turned and disappeared around the corner.

“Fuuuuuck….” Richie groaned quietly as his body reacted to Annabelle’s words.  Automatically his hand went to his crotch, covering his erection with a firm palm.  He sucked in and blew out a couple long breaths, desperately willing his arousal to subside, at least enough for him to slip into the church and sit somewhat comfortably for the duration of the service.

After a couple minutes Richie was calmed enough to move.  He retraced his path through the little corridor from the Fellowship Hall, then back around to the front foyer of the church.  Just as he reached the entrance he heard the first grand notes of the pipe organ, followed by the rustling movement of the congregation standing.

Richie peeked around the door frame before slipping through the entrance and into the back of the church.  Quietly he moved along the back wall to the far corner and into the last pew.  He stood silent through the unfamiliar hymn, then lowered himself onto the wooden bench when the rest of the congregation sat.  Richie pulled a hymnal from the rack on the pew back and settled it on his lap, trying to cover what was still an obvious bulge under his fly.

Thankfully there were no other occupants of the back row, so he didn’t have to fidget through the service in close quarters.  His nearest neighbor was a young couple with a little girl seated two pews in front of him.  The child, about two years old in Richie’s estimation, watched him curiously as she stood between her parents, facing the back of the room.  At Richie’s smile and little wave she bashfully turned away, sliding down to her seat.

With another deep breath Richie raised his eyes to the front of the church.  He immediately found Annie in the middle of the small choir loft, her honey-blonde hair shining in the soft light let in through the stained-glass windows flanking the sanctuary.  She saw his gaze and responded with a sparkling smile.  Again Richie’s groin tightened.

Jesus, get it together.  Richie immediately winced at his silent swear.  He really needed to remember he was in church.  It’s not like the idea was foreign to him; having been raised on Catholic Mass he knew the rules.  And obviously the guilt had taken root, since he felt a little ashamed at being turned on by a girl while he sat in a Holy House.

But this wasn’t just any girl.  This was Annie.  Beautiful, kind, sexy Annie.  The woman who had soothed his soul and captured his heart.

Richie smiled again as he watched Annabelle sit primly in the choir loft, holding a hymnal on her lap and turning her eyes to the preacher, who was now leading the morning greeting from his place at the pulpit.  She really did look beautiful, in her snowy white robe with her golden hair falling gently against her shoulders.  Radiant.  Like an angel.

Like she had looked last night, the moonlight glistening on her bare skin as she smiled down at him from under her cowboy hat.

Richie shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench.  This was gonna be a long service if he couldn’t focus on something other than Annabelle.  Maybe coming to church with her wasn’t such a good idea after all.

He took a deep breath and turned his head toward the tall stained glass windows.  Richie let his eyes wander over the vibrantly-colored glass, trying to identify the scenes depicted in the long panes.  He recognized a few of the Biblical figures, but others he couldn’t place.  The windows weren’t ornate like the ones back home at St. Anthony's, but they were elegant in their simplicity, matching the design of this small-town church.

Richie’s eyes wandered from the windows to the pews beneath them.  The church was almost full, all but the back few pews lined with worshippers.  Richie regarded the backs of bald and behatted heads, and long and short locks of hair in every color.  He noticed there were many children in the congregation, from babies to teenagers. 

Sunday was always for family in Richie’s house.  Even when his Dad was working two jobs, he always insisted on spending time with his wife and son on the Holy Day.  Church in the morning, Sunday dinner with aunts and uncles and cousins, then football or baseball on TV.  In the summer, maybe a drive down the Shore for Italian ices.

Richie smiled gently at the happy memories of watching the New York Football Giants on Sunday afternoon, the men drinking beer on the couch and the kids crowded around the TV on the floor while the women cleared up the remains of Sunday dinner.   Even as a teen he had looked forward to Sunday with his Old Man, despite his self-declared independence.

That was one of the things he missed, being away from home.  Sundays with his Dad.

Richie blinked away the mistiness from his eyes.  Soon he would have more Sunday afternoons in his parents’ house.  Many more.   The realization made his heart heavy.  As much as he loved his parents, Richie just couldn’t bring himself to be happy about going home.  It meant the start of another life, and the end of one for which he had such high hopes.

The sound of movement from the front of the church drew Richie’s attention back to the service.  The choir had stood from their seats and raised their hymnals in preparation for song.  Richie’s gaze settled on Annie as the piano notes floated quietly through the air, introducing the hymn.   

There’s within my heart a melody

Jesus whispers sweet and low

Fear not, I am with thee, peace, be still

In all life’s ebb and flow

Richie returned the little smile Annie gave him, his heart skipping a beat at her beauty.  His doubts about the wisdom of accompanying her here faded away as he watched her pretty pink lips circle in song.  Richie could think of no place he’d rather be right now, than here with Annabelle.

Jesus, Jesus

Sweetest name I know

Fills my every longing

Keeps me singing as I go

Richie’s lips parted in a little gasp of surprise when the choir went silent for the second verse, except for Annabelle.  Her sweet solitary voice floated out across the sanctuary, straight to Richie’s heart.

All my life was wrecked by sin and strife

Discord filled my heart with pain

Jesus swept across the broken strings

Stirred the slumbering chords again

Jesus, Jesus

Sweetest name I know

Fills my every longing

Keeps me singing as I go

Richie and Annie’s eyes met across the big, airy room.  His heart squeezed at her silent message of comfort and encouragement.  A gentle smile curved his lips as again his eyes moistened.

The choir joined again for the next verse, then the final stanza was sung by an older man.  Once the hymn was completed the choir quietly took their seats and Reverend Purdy again addressed his flock.  Richie watched Annabelle return her attention to the preacher, and he tried to follow her example.

He only lasted a few minutes.  Again first Richie’s mind wandered, then his eyes.  He saw several other restless parishioners stealing curious glances at him, including a few faces he recognized from his stint at Eddie’s service station yesterday.  Realizing he was under scrutiny, Richie tried again to concentrate on Reverend Purdy’s sermon.

But soon Richie found his gaze again on the little family in front of him.  The little girl was peering over the back of the pew at him, innocently flirting with his attention.  Again Richie gave her a little wave, but this time she didn’t turn away.  She smiled back at him before burying her face in her mother’s sleeve, then peeking back out at Richie.  Her bright blue eyes sparkled happily.

Seeing that her daughter was distracting the quiet young man behind them, the young mother pulled the child onto her lap.  She gave Richie a smile and a mouthed “Sorry” before exchanging a warm look with her husband.  The man scooted closer to the woman and slipped his arm along the back of the pew, encircling his family in his loose embrace.

The realization hit Richie like a lightning bolt.  Someday soon he would be like that young father, dressed up in his Sunday clothes, sitting in a church pew next to a pretty wife holding a beautiful child on her lap.  He was looking at his future life, seeing it all around him as he sat in this little church in this town full of kind and generous and simple people.  Happy people.

Richie’s gaze went back to Annabelle.  She smiled at him, her blues eyes sparkling bright in the soft sanctuary light.  As bright and beautiful as the blue eyes of the little girl on her mother’s lap.

Maybe this was where he belonged.  Maybe Karma had acted in the form of a blown engine thermostat.  Maybe Fate had brought him to Darien, and to Annie.

Maybe his future was here.