Nobody's There by Joan Lowery Nixon Read Free Book Online Page A

another. She stared down at the wedding ring on her hand, not moving, not even seeming to notice she was crying. Abbie got up, pulled a fistful of tissues from the box on the kitchen counter, and handed them to her.
    â€œMom,” she said, “let’s go to a movie this afternoon. Okay?”
    When Abbie didn’t get an answer she kept talking, realizing she was babbling but unable to stop. “We can see that new sci-fi film. Davy will like that one. I mean, all the kids are talking about it, and he hasn’t seen it yet. That ought to make him feel better. Oh, I mean, you know—distract him. We could even take P.J. with us and stop off afterward for hamburgers. Want me to call P.J.’s mom?”
    Mrs. Thompson leaned back in her chair and mopped at her eyes and nose with the tissues. “If it’s okay with you, Abbie, I really don’t feel like a movie today. You can ask Gigi over if you’d like to.”
    â€œGigi and her family are driving to Corpus Christi to visit her grandmother. I’d like to do something with you, Mom. Really, I would.”
    â€œDavy doesn’t understand …”
    Abbie patted her mother’s shoulder. “I know, Mom. But he will.”
    â€œI should take him to counseling, but right now I can’t afford it.”
    Mrs. Thompson got to her feet, gave Abbie a hug, and left the kitchen.
    The telephone rang, and Abbie reached for it eagerly. Maybe Gigi hadn’t gone out of town.
    â€œHi, Abbie,” a deep, soft voice said. “This is Nick Campos.”
    Abbie stood silently, her mouth open, and Nick went on. “Remember me? English class?”
    â€œY-Yes,” Abbie said. Of course she remembered Nick. He was tall, with dark curly hair and deep brown eyes. Nick was fun and good-looking.
    â€œI was wondering if you were free to go to a movie with me this afternoon,” he said.
    Abbie was startled and confused by her mixed-up feelings. Nick was a nice guy and had a great smile. But Dad had a great smile too, and what was behind it? A man who would walk out of the lives of his wife and children as if they didn’t matter.
    Abbie gripped the phone. She cleared her throat, when her voice didn’t seem to be working, and tried to speak up. “I’m sorry, Nick. It was nice of you to ask me, but I can’t go out today. I’ve got … other stuff to do.”
    â€œI shouldn’t have called so late,” Nick said. “It’s just that it’s such a pretty day, and I got to thinking about you, and … well … can I call you again for a date, Abbie?”
    â€œYes,” Abbie said, wishing she had said no.
    Nick said goodbye, and Abbie echoed the word. She slowly hung up the receiver. Probably at any other time of her life a call from a cute guy like Nick would have thrilled her. Upset by her feelings, she grew even angrier at her father.
    As she cleaned the kitchen, Abbie tried not to think about him. Every time he came to mind her stomach clutched and pain tightened her chest.
    Sunday’s
Buckler Bee
still lay folded on one end of the table. Abbie sat at the table and spread the newspaper flat. The headline dominated the top half of the first page: BANK PRESIDENT SHOT . Below the headline, next to the news story, were two large color photos. One was a fairly recent shot of Delmar Hastings with his wife and children. The other was a studio portrait of the bank’s head cashier, Irene Conley.
    â€œSo that’s who Irene Conley is,” Abbie said aloud. She had seen Irene working in the bank but hadn’t known either her name or her job. The picture flattered her. Blond hair, green eyes, mouth just a little too wide—the real-life Irene didn’t have the softness of features that the camera had given her.
    Abbie read the story but didn’t learn much more than she had from the group of senior citizens. “At seven-fifteen A.M. Saturday an