Oliver and I approach the door to go back inside because I can no longer stop shivering. Now he's pressed against my back, arms enveloping me, chin tucked on my shoulder, in his oh so lovely way of attempting to warm me up. But we're surprised to see Jimmy and Teddy fall flat on their faces as soon as we swing it open. Everyone in the entire speakeasy is gathered by the door, but is now trying to casually walk outside or go back to their seats.
Molly jumps out, stepping around her brothers, looking hysterical. "Annie! Ollie! We're so glad you're still here! When you first got out here, no one was talking, so we thought you ran off! But then you said something and it got quiet again. Then you guys were talking and shouting so we thought you were fighting and were going to run in the middle of it. But then we heard you shout you loved Ollie, Annie! We were all excited for you. But Ollie sounded sad, so we were sad. Why were you sad?"
"Wait, wait, wait, Molly. So you all knew she loved me?" Oliver looks around everyone for an answer. "I thought this was a set up so I could possibly have a talk with her. Why didn't anyone tell me? That would have saved me a lot of trouble."
"Oh yeah, we all knew. We just wanted you to tell each other. It was much better. And where would the fun be if we told you?" Molly shakes her head and hands. "Back to the story! After Annie stopped you from leaving, you guys were shouting and talking again. And then we heard shout you loved her! That's when people started coming to the door. It was like listening stories on the radio! And then you wouldn't stop talking, Ollie! She was trying to say she loves you, but you kept interrupting her! I nearly opened the door to tell you to listen myself, but Mommy stopped me! I'm glad she did now. Because Annie, you got to tell him again, but why did you suddenly stop talking? You were saying you were madly, stupidly, completely then nothing. I almost thought you ran away again and I was going to open the door again, but everyone told me not to go out there. What was happening? Because you started talking again, and then it went quiet again. Was there something scary out there?"
"Molly, they were kissing," says Jimmy picking himself up off the ground.
"Oh!" She covers her mouth with her hands, turning a light shade of pink. I blush too, and out of the corner of my eye, Oliver is a bit red as well. Molly recovers quickly from it. "Okay! So are you two in love? For real?!"
Oliver tightens his grip around me and laughs. "Yes, Molly. This time it's for real."
She throws her fists in the air, "Yes!" She runs into me and throws her arms as far around us as she can manage. "You two can never ever break up for real!" I really hope so. I really, really hope so. She looks up at me and whispers, "My mommy was right, wasn't she?"
"About what, Molly?"
"About falling in love with someone just like your daddy?"
What?! No, no, no! Don't say that! Don't say something that plants ideas in my head. I just got him back, don't make me paranoid! Does she not remember me this morning saying that my father was a horrible man? This is a six year old, for crying out loud! Of course not! She had probably spaced out by then. It's not her fault, but now… this idea is stuck in my head. I remember that dream from yesterday night when I was my mother and I had a daughter who was just like me. And Oliver was just like my father. He would never do that, would he? If we ever did get married, he'd treat me right, and not just for the first couple of years. Always, especially when- I mean if- we have kids, if we get married.
"Annie, is something wrong?"
"No," I put on a convincing fake smile. "I'm fine. Just thinking."
"About what?"
"Things that don't matter right now."
"What doesn't matter?" I had forgotten Oliver is right there. How could I forget? I'm still tingly and toasty warm because of him. I shouldn't have said anything to Molly. I should've lied.
"It's nothing, really." He cocks an eyebrow. "Really, Hastings. I'm fine. If anything, I'm really excited." I slide my arms over his.
"I don't believe you." I'm not sure if he's kidding anymore.
"Well, you should." You really shouldn't.
"You've lied to me before," he says, a smirk visible on his lips. He is right.
"That's different though."
"I just don't want you running off again. My flat feet can't take any more of it. And I nearly had an asthma attack when I got back to my house earlier."
"You have asthma too?"
"I know, I know, I'm sick."
I laugh. "Awe, poor Oliver. He has flat feet and asthma." I pull my hand out of Molly's embrace and reach for his face. I turn my head so I can peck him on the cheek. "Poor, poor, sick Oliver," I tease. I peck him again. "Feel better?"
"No."
I pretend to be insulted. "What?" I roll my eyes.
He cranes his neck forward and presses his lips to mine for a moment. "Now, I'm better." I roll my eyes again. We look to our friends around us. They all look at us like we're cute little pets and coo like we're cute little pets. It's discomforting. We look at each other and simultaneously break apart, but he grabs my hand so we're still in contact.
Eventually, the remaining ten of us are all seated at a table. It's Tina, Camille in Peter's lap, Harry the owner, Molly in Jimmy's lap, Teddy, Jane, and Oliver and I sharing a seat. For a while, we just chat about anything. I know we should leave to go home by now, but I don't want to leave Oliver's side. Ever, ever again. The whole time, Oliver and I are constantly touching. If he's not holding my hand, his arm is around me. If he's not talking to the others, he's whispering something amazingly sweet in my ear, making me blush and the conversation stops so they all stare at us. When Molly nods off, she's transferred to Jane's lap, and suddenly, I'm sleepy too. My head lulls onto Oliver's shoulder multiple times, my eyes drooping shut for seconds then minutes. Visions of dreams swirl in my head. I finally give in.
"Mrs. Hastings."
She steps farther in, and drops her gaze to the ground. "I just came here to tell you that Mr. Hastings is running a bit late. Do you still want to eat dinner at seven, or do you want to wait until returns he from his business meeting?"
…
"Oliver!" I throw myself against him, hooking my arms around his neck, and kiss him hard on the lips. I see his arms out in the air.
He grabs my shoulders and pushes me away, "Annabelle, control yourself!" he snaps.
I look away sheepishly, "I don't think I can."
He brushes himself off, and clears his throat. "Is dinner ready yet?"
"Yes, it was done some time ago."
"Good, I need to eat in my study."
…
I stomp my foot, "I can handle being by myself for a little while! But I'm always alone! Except for when Roxy isn't sleeping! You're never home! You never speak to me! I feel like I'm all on my own again, except I'm stuck here with nothing to do because you insist I don't work! Don't you dare call me a child! I am not a child! I haven't been a child since my mother passed away! I just want to feel like I'm married to the man I met four years ago! What ever happened to him! He's gone!"
"I'm right here!"
"No! He's not! He's been gone for at least two years!"
…
"Oliver, finally you came to bed," I say in a hushed tone.
"The storm is too distracting. I had no choice." He climbs in on his side, then notices our little girl in my arms. "Do you want me to take her to bed?"
"No. She can stay here."
"Why? She's already asleep."
"What if she wakes up? She'll just come right back. Why can't she stay?"
"She has to outgrow this irrational little fear at some point. It's not like she's going to grow up and still be terrified of storms. Everyone outgrows these stupid little phobias." I feel a stab in my chest. He quickly realizes what he said, and tries to take it back, "No, that's not what I meant. I meant to say-"
But I hold up my hand. "No, you meant it. I'll take her to her room." I slide off the bed, holding the little girl tight in my arms- holding back tears- and carry her across the hallway to her room. I gently settle her down under the sheets and tuck her in. But instead of leaving, I climb over her and get behind her, hugging her close again. I sigh. "I am my mother."
"Annabelle," someone croons softly, "Annabelle."
I curl in closer, and mumble incoherently, "Oliver, can you please eat dinner with me? I don't want to be alone."
He chuckles, "Um, sure, but we need to go."
"Wha-?" I lift my head and rub my eyes. We're still in the Ritz. It was just that dream again, planting horrible ideas in my head. I yawn and stretch. "Oh, I'm sorry. How long was I asleep?"
"Only a half an hour."
"Time to go?" Oliver nods and stands up with me, automatically putting his arm on my waist. I grab his arm and lay my head on his shoulder. I look around to see my family has already left.
"I told them I'd walk you home," he explains, reading my expression. He removes his arm and holds up a finger. "Just excuse me a moment." And he heads off in the direction of the bathroom.
I plop back down into my seat. And I lay my head on the table, forcing myself to sleep, but the prospect of that dream coming again makes me sit straight up. It's then that I realize the others were still here. I smile weakly and wave shyly. Camille smirks. "So… how's it feel?"
"How's what feel?"
"To finally have him?"
"I can't even put it in words," I sigh, a grin breaking out involuntarily.
Tina cackles, swatting the air with a hand. "He's just like your father. Such a romantic."
My eyes grow wide. "You knew my father?"
"Yes, ma'am. I did. I used to work for his father when he was your age. I also knew your mother. You look just like her."
"And you never mentioned that you've knew my family because…?" I roll my hand in a circle, waiting for a response.
She shrugs. "When I first met you, I didn't realize. I had no idea they had a child. And when I did find out, I didn't think it mattered." She leans forward. "But your father was exactly like Oliver back there. Kind of a ladies man, but a sweetheart. A keeper. Your mother was a lucky woman because a lot of girls had an eye for him. I even took a liking to him." Then she quickly adds, "I'm so sorry for your loss." And she frowns. "I suppose that's another thing you and Oliver have in common now."
"Thank you, Tina." And sadly, she's right about that. We're both orphans.
There's a short silent pause.
I can't help but ask, "So Oliver… is just like my dad at his age? Just like him? Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's really sweet, really. And you're so much like your mother. It's scary how similar you are. At least from what I saw of her. I bet they were the most amazing parents. So loving and caring. In my third marriage, I wished for a relationship like theirs."
No you don't. No. No you don't. I laugh uncomfortably, "Yeah, who wouldn't?" A hand reaches my shoulder and I jump and give a small yelp. I look up, "Oh, hi Oliver."
"Are you okay?" He looks concerned.
"Yes, I'm fine," My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. "Tina was just telling me about my parents at our age. She knew them. Apparently, we're just like them, right, Tina?" She nods. I stand up, still coughing. "Um, excuse me. Can I…" I point to the restroom. They all nod. "Thank you. Excuse me." I need a moment alone. Or else I will do something I might regret.
I take a step away, but Oliver grabs my hand. "Wait, Annabelle."
I face him. "Is there something wrong?"
He just looks down at me, his grayish blue eyes looking into my amber ones. "No, no. It’s just…" He trails off. "It’s nothing. Never mind."
I'm willing him to not let me go, because I think I'm going to do something bad, but he let's go. I walk away, but rush back and kiss him quickly.
"Annabelle, what-?"
"I love you, Hastings." I don't deserve you as you are right now.
"I love you, too," he says back, the look of concern still not gone, and now I see some anxiety is seeping in.
I bite back a smile, turn around and go to the restroom, absolutely certain I'm going to do something stupid. I close the door behind me and tears just pour down my face.
I pace back and forth, hands covering my face so they can't hear me, going utterly insane! We're just like my parents! We are just like them! That means we're going to turn into them! I am going to be my mother, loving but not loved! He's going to be just like my father, cold and unfeeling! I can't believe it! Why?! Why, why, why?! I finally have him! After six long months, I at long last have him, and then I had my worst nightmares confirmed! I am destined to be ignored! He will be heartless! But how?! How will Oliver turn into that piece of scum that didn't even bother tryingto raise me?!
I'm writhing as I pace. Running my hands through my hair, trying not to pull it out. My heels clop on the ground and when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I'm a mess.
But then I hear Oliver's voice. "What's going on in there?"
He wasn't asking me, because he sounds like he's still with our friends. But I know any second now he'll come to make sure I'm still here. I've only been in here for a minute. My eyes focus on a tiny window in the corner of the restroom. I think I could fit through there easily.
Using a trash can to aid me, I slip off my heels and climb up on the bin and open the window. Since I've been in warmth the past hour, it feels even colder than it was. I poke my head out and look at the drop. It's not far, just a yard or so. I look at the door, wishing he'd come in right now and tell me I'm insane, but he won't for at least another thirty seconds. I climb out feet first, holding a heel in each hand and wait for a moment.
The bathroom door opens. "Annabelle?"
And I run again.
*
"I am never getting married!" I cry, marching into the apartment.
"What?!" Jane looks mad. She appears to have just laid down. "He proposed to you already!? He said he'd do it Sunday! Ugh, I'm going to kill him!"
"No!" I sob, dropping my shoes. "He didn't!"
"I'm still going to kill him then. After all the turmoil you two have been through, he doesn’t want to marry you-?"
"No, no. I didn't know he was going to propose! But I would've said no anyway!"
"Why on earth would you do that?!"
"Because I'm my mother! And he's my father!" And I drop to my knees and start bawling.
Surprisingly, the kids don't come out of their room. They must hear the racket I'm making. The neighbors can hear the racket I'm making. but maybe they're fed up of me. Me and my running. I'm fed up of my running away.
Jane gets up from the couch and squats next to me, rubbing my back soothingly, drying my tears with my coat, allowing me this one good cry. "Just tell me what happened, honey. I'm sure it's nothing."
"When I fell asleep, I had this dream where I was just like my mother, and Oliver acted just like my father, and we had this little girl who was me when I was young. I don't want that to happen. Then T-Tina knew my parents when they were m-my age. She said…" I gulp down some air, "…she said Oliver is just like my father. A romantic, a sweetheart. And she said that it was scary how much I'm like my mother. So I panicked. I went into the bathroom and after a minute I climbed out the window and ran! That proves it, Jane! Women fall in love with and then marry men just like their fathers. I never want to get married!"
"I never said you'll marry someone just like your father?"
"You did say always."
"I lied when I said that!"
"How do I know you're not lying right now? Trying to make me feel better?"
"When I first said it, I assumed you loved your father. You went to the cemetery once or twice a week or something. I was trying to encourage yours and Oliver's relationship! I thought you dad was a good man until you told me otherwise yesterday!"
"Well, now you know!"
"And now we wait!"
"For what?"
"I'm guessing Oliver's realized you're gone by now. He'll be here any minute, I'm sure. Just don't tell him I told you about the proposal. That was an accident."
"Jane, I'm not going to marry him. Or any man for that matter!"
"Why not?"
"We've been through this."
She groans, "Annabelle, don't be thick. He's not going to turn into your father."
"How do you know?"
"For one thing, there is no way that that poor, sweet boy can turn into such a cruel man. That's plain impossible."
"He could."
She ignores me, "And secondly, Arthur didn't turn into my father." I open my mouth to argue, but she covers my mouth with her hand and keeps it there. "I saw some similarities. Quite a few similarities, but he never became exactly like my father. He didn't do things exactly as my dad did. He was his own person. So just because Oliver is like him now, does not mean it will be the same in the future. Heck, for all we know, he can stay exactly as he is today. So please sit down, stop saying you're never going to marry anyone, and wait until Oliver gets here so you can tell him why you ran off this time. Got it, missy?"
"But how will he know where to find me?"
"I gave him our address while you were sleeping."
I lower my head in shame, "Yes, Jane."
In a nicer tine, she asks, "Do you want me to stay awake with you until he comes?"
I shake my head, "No, Jane. You can go to bed. We still have work in a few hours. But thank you for offering."
"No problem dear," She leans forward and pushes back some loose strand of hair in my face and presses her lips to my forehead. "I'm going to take you spot in your bed tonight. I won't be able to sleep with you two talking in here." She gives me a warm, motherly smile, "Good night, sweet dreams, love you, Annabelle. And be sure to tell that to Oliver for me?"
"Of course, Jane. Good night, Jane. And thanks again."
Jane goes to the bedroom and continues to look at me as she slowly closes the door. I settle myself on the couch where she usually sleeps and pile on the blankets, legs crossed, anticipating the sound of running feet or footsteps in general. Any second now, any second. He'll come knocking on our door, I'll go running into his arms, and we'll be together. Nothing else can stand in our way now. I have no more fears about us. I still am scared of the future, but I'm willing to take that chance now that he could stay the way he is. He is his own person.
I stay awake, anxious, for minutes that turn into hours. Despite that, I feel no necessity to fall asleep. I'm just sitting on the couch, expecting any moment to hear him on the other side of that door. I end up staying awake until the sun comes up.
Jane and the kids come out of the bedroom later that morning to prepare for the day. Jane looks at me, confused. "How did it go?"
I look at her blankly. I'm not even looking at her. I'm looking past her. "He… he never came."
Jane rushes to my side. "I'm sure I just wrote the address down wrong. That must be it."
I nod absently, not really listening anymore. "Yes… of course Jane." And I get up to get dressed for work.