Forever by Linda Cassidy Lewis Read Free Book Online Page B

She lay still, waiting for them to return, almost numb in the sudden absence of pain.
    In the lull, she hopped back on the train of thought she’d ridden all evening. Was Tom cheating on her? That’s what Patricia had harped on all this year, but then Patricia didn’t trust any man. This evening, Eddie had been there and concurred with Patricia’s so-called evidence. Maybe it was the fear about her health that had made her vulnerable tonight, but she’d seriously considered the possibility they knew better than she. She didn’t admit that to them, of course. She’d insisted that getting Tom’s new business off the ground was the reason he’d spent less time at home lately. And tonight, like the occasional night before, he was only out schmoozing for work. They’d cautioned her not to be a fool, and she’d laughed. But the parasite of doubt had taken hold.

5
    June 8
    W hen Tom phoned Annie the next morning, her voicemail picked up. He hung up without leaving a message. Voicemail was evidence. Jeezus . Evidence of what? There was nothing wrong with talking to her on the phone.
    When he tried calling again around noon, she answered. “It’s Tom,” he said. “Are you working today?” He grimaced. That wasn’t at all what he’d rehearsed.
    “No, I’ve got the day off.”
    “Well, then . . . would you like to meet me for a drink, or coffee, or . . . something?” Then, because it was what he’d really intended to say, he added, “I’d like to talk to you about the visions.”
    “All right,” she said. “When and where?”
    “How about the Coach House?”
    The instant he heard her sharp intake of breath, he regretted his choice. Although he favored the pub because he liked its dark, Old English style, he’d forgotten the Coach House was also known locally as the spot for couples to meet when they didn’t want to be seen . From Annie’s reaction, it seemed evident she knew that reputation. The silence in his ear was so complete, he feared she’d hung up.
    “Annie?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Or we could meet wherever you want.”
    “The Coach House is fine. You didn’t say when.”
    “Is three o’clock all right?”
    “Sure.”
    After ending the call, Tom stared in panic at the phone in his hand. What had he done and done so casually? Take a deep breath . Okay. No big deal. He was meeting someone in a public place to talk. Just talk. That’s all.
    * * *
    At twenty after three, Tom pulled into the Coach House parking lot, sure that Annie had arrived before him and hoping she hadn’t already left. Pausing just inside the door to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior, he sensed her presence before he spotted her.
    “Sorry I’m late.” He slipped into the booth, sitting opposite her.
    “That’s okay. I was going to give you ten more minutes before I figured you had better things to do.”
    Tom noted two things—she’d ordered a frozen margarita and her smile made him feel nineteen again.
    “Problem at work,” he said and then paused to order a beer. After the waitress left, he turned back to Annie. “Did I explain being late?”
    “A problem at work, you said.”
    “Yeah. A drywall installer, goofing around, drove a nail through his thumb. Pothead. Reeked of it.” Tom shook his head in disgust. “Anyway, I got delayed by the accident paperwork.” The waitress returned, and he downed half his beer at once, then wiped the corners of his mouth with a thumb and forefinger and lit a cigarette. “Change of subject. We never got a chance to really talk about the visions the other night. I know you said that had never happened to you before, but I wondered if anything likeit had.”
    “You mean, do I see ghosts, read people’s minds, talk with the dead . . . that kind of thing?”
    “Not exactly.” He blew smoke out the corner of his mouth, away from Annie. “Well, sort of like that. Weird stuff.”
    She shook her head. “I’ve led a pretty boring life, actually. Does weird stuff