Chapter Two
"How is she tonight?" Annabel asked quietly, taking care not to let the apartment door slam behind her.
Doreen, the older woman from two floors up, pursed her lips and tucked her knitting into her bag.
"I asked her to lie down for a rest a little while ago," she said. "She put up quite a fuss, but she went, and I hope she is sleeping right now. She was looking a little peaked, and some rest would do her good."
Annabel sighed, because she knew what that meant. Instead of saying anything, however, she removed a small amount of cash from her purse and handed it to the older woman, trying not to flinch. It wasn't a large amount, but it was enough that it could mean groceries for the next few weeks.
"Thank you very much, Doreen," she said, helping the older woman up. "I should be able to work from home tomorrow, so I can look after her then."
She closed the door behind Doreen, and shedding her jacket and her shoes, she padded to the door with the gold star painted on it. She grinned wryly when she heard the distinct click of a flashlight being turned off, and then she knocked lightly. At the relieved 'come in!” she opened the door and entered.
Annabel had always been slightly regretful that her daughter had gotten her looks. Even at four, Marissa had her round face, her black hair, and her cloudy blue eyes. She would always hold that her daughter was the most beautiful little girl in the world to her, but she wondered if her daughter would have her own troubles with men. Of course, that was years off, and now Annabel came to sit next to Marissa on her small bed.
"Hey little pumpkin," she said. "You weren't reading in bed, were you?"
Marissa looked at her mother half-defiantly.
"I was," she said, and Annabel felt a little surge of pride that her daughter wasn't a liar. "Doreen said that I should lie down and be still in the dark for a while, but it was so boring! Anyway, I did what she said. It's dark and I was lying down."
"Ha, with a love of loopholes like that one, you would make a darned good lawyer some day," Annabel chuckled. "However, before you head for law school, maybe you'd like to come help me make up something good for dinner?"
Marissa brightened at that, slipping out of bed. The slender four year old was only wearing a thin nightgown, and Annabel offered her a robe that she put on with ill-grace.
"Can we make tacos?"
"Sure," said Annabel. "Let's see what we have to put in them..."
She was grateful that Marissa was still too young to see how simple and dull their meals were. It was a long sight better than nothing, and Annabel was proud of the fact that most nights it was decent food cooked at home, but it was a far cry from what other children living in New York might enjoy.
Annabel listened as Marissa chattered about the things she and Doreen had done all day, starting with stories and going through drawing and a walk down the street. Annabel's hand stilled on the heating refried beans when Marissa frowned.
"We walked all the way down to the end of the block and back," she said. "We only had to turn back because I got so tired. I hate that, Mama. I miss going to the park."
"I know you do," Annabel said calmly, resuming her cooking. "But don't worry, you'll feel better soon."
Annabel often had a great deal of cause to be relieved that children oftentimes had a very short view of what was going around them. So far, Marissa had only noted that life was a little more difficult for her than it had been. She had noticed that they did not go out very often, and when they did, they never went all that far. So far, the doctors at the free clinic had not been able to tell them anything, but they were positive that a fix could be found.
Annabel finished the food and set a taco filled with refried beans, salsa and a sprinkle of cheese in front of her daughter. The one she set at her own plate was barely larger, but she told herself that was fine. She had had a surprisingly enormous bowl of chili at work. It was someone's birthday, and she hadn't been able to resist.
"Mama, when can I walk to the park again again?"
Annabel started to say something about being sure that Marissa would feel better soon, but her daughter looked her in the eye, her eyes stormy.
"No," she said. "When? Show me on the calender."
She pointed at the wall calender they had been given at the Chinese grocery, where they marked their appointments, their doctor's visits and their library due dates.
"No one knows, pumpkin," Annabel said. She was raising her daughter not to lie, and that meant that she couldn't lie to her either. "The doctors are working on what is going on, and hopefully..."
"Why don't they know yet?" Marissa insisted. "Isn't there someone who knows?"
Sure. Some doctor who lives in Manhattan and who only takes the children of royalty and politicians and actors, I'm sure he does...
Instead, she only shook her head. When she answered, her voice was slightly ragged.
"I promise, Marissa, the doctors are doing everything they can to help you feel better. Fixing people isn't always easy, though, so you have to be patient."
"So... my job is to be patient?" Marissa asked, frowning. It was, admittedly, not a skill she was profoundly good at.
"Yes," said Annabel with relief. "It is. It's the doctors' jobs to find a way to make you feel better. It is my job to take care of you and to talk to them as they do so, and it is your job to be patient and to tell me how you are doing."
She grinned.
"Even if it's you telling me for thirty whole seconds how bored you are. Wanna do that?"
Marissa grinned, and took a deep breath as Annabel made it a point of checking her watch. On her signal, Marissa complained about how bored she was of staying inside, how dull everything on television was, how much she wanted to go to the park, and how much she missed playing with her friends. She finished at the twenty second mark, and though she was more breathless than she should have been, she looked pleased with herself.
"Feel better?"
"Yup!"
The mood was a little lighter then, at any rate, and mother and daughter sat back down at the table. Then the shouting started under their window, and Annabel froze.
"Marissa, go right to your room, right now, and close the door."
"Mama..."
"Right now!"
She waited just long enough to make sure that Marissa had done as she said, and then she dashed to the window. She had been living in what were politely called developing neighborhoods long enough to recognize angry voices very well, and she could see two men menacing a third. She flung the window open.
"Hey!" she shouted, "Hey, get out of here, or I'll call the cops!"
The men payed absolutely no attention to her, and muttering a few words that she had not allowed herself to use since Marissa was born, she raced down the stairs, grabbing up the snow shovel that Mr. DuPleiss kept by the door. The cold air hit her like a brick once she was out, but by then there was so much adrenaline in her veins that she didn't care.
She charged into the fray with her snow-shovel, landing a heavy blow on first one attacker before jabbing the other with the stick end. The two men who had been attacking the third apparently felt evened odds were out of the question, and after some curses, they slipped away. She didn't bother to see which way they had gone. Instead, she turned attention to the man who hunched against the building wall.
"Are you all right? Did they get you?... Good lord, I know you!"
She blurted out the words in surprise, and the man, even as he was panting with exhaustion, managed a sly smile as he looked up at her.
"So we meet again. It is nice to see that you have a figure underneath that awful coat from before."
"This is a terrible, terrible time for you to try whatever you are trying," she said sternly. "Are you hurt?"
To her shock, he turned and she could see the red blood that was staining his fingers where he covered his heart. For a moment, Annabel felt herself go faint, and then she forbade herself from fainting.
Do not faint. Do not faint. You are not some silly teen. You are a grown woman, and there was more blood involved when you had Marissa.
"All right, I'm calling an ambulance..."
She yelped as his clean hand shot out and wrapped tightly around hers. Despite the slight smirk that still lingered on his face, his hand shook, and she wondered if underneath all of that, he was frightened.
"Talk to me," he whispered, and as they waited for the ambulance, she did. Annabel was never able to figure out what she had said later. It was mostly unimportant things, things about her life and what she was doing. It was just a stream of words as they occurred to her, and then the ambulance was there, as well as some police. She didn't even see when the man was whisked away, and then she was giving a statement.
It seemed like it had all taken forever, but when she got back up stairs, she saw that it had been less than half an hour. When she knocked on Marissa's door, her daughter threw it open and threw her arms around her mother.
"Are you all right?" Marissa asked anxiously, and Annabel nodded.
"Of course I am sweetie," she said with a big smile. "I would never do anything too scary."
Marissa was satisfied with that at least, and by now, after all of the excitement of the day, she was actually ready for bed. Annabel shepherded her through the process of brushing her teeth and bathing before bed, but though they both loved Marissa's goodnight ritual, her mind was a little distracted.
She could still picture the man holding his hand over his chest, blood leaking around the edges. Who was he? Did he have anyone to be concerned that he was stabbed? She told herself that she was wasn't really worried, not at all, but by the time she lay down in bed, she knew that was a lie.
For the first time in what felt like a long time, Annabel closed her eyes and prayed.
Please, I don't know him, and I don't know what he's going through right now, but please, don't let him be too badly hurt.