Hannah's List

She tore open the envelope. June 7 Leanne,



He didn't say Dear Leanne. Just her name, plain and simple. Drawing in her breath, she continued reading.



She hadn't been prepared, either. I've done a lot of thinking since your visit. I want to apologize for the way I behaved. It was a shock to see you. I wasn't prepared, emotionally or mentally.



I believe I've figured out why you came here. You were looking to me for reassurance about this new relationship of yours. Leanne, it's what I've wanted for you all along. You deserve happiness, and I hope that's what he brings you. I'm the one responsible for the mess I'm in, not you. I'm deeply in debt and will pay for this error in judgment for the rest of my life. I'm the one who broke the law and was sentenced for my crimes. You did nothing wrong, so you shouldn't have to suffer. It didn't matter that she was innocent. She was involved whether she wanted to be or not. She



was suffering. Yes, Mark had stolen the funds, but she'd been affected by his actions. She wasn't behind bars and yet she felt like a prisoner all the same.



Get on with your life. What we once had was special, but it's over and there's no going back for either of us. Find a man, maybe this doctor, who'll love you and marry you and give you a family. Leanne swallowed her tears. She wanted children. The oncology center was beside the fertility clinic and every day Leanne saw couples desperate for a child, willing to do anything in order to conceive. If that meant drugs, shots, tests, embarrassment, they'd submit themselves to it. Here she was, craving a child, and her husband--the man she'd always hoped would be the father of her children--was out of her life.



Before I close, I need to clear up one thing. I need to apologize. I led you to believe there'd been other women during our marriage. That was a lie. I was trying to convince you to hate me. Instead, all I did was cause you more pain. While I might have failed in many respects and sunk to levels I never knew I was capable of reaching, not once did I look at another woman. I wasn't even tempted. You were always my one and only, my wife. Leanne smiled. She knew it; deep down she'd known he was lying. Even more than that, Mark hadn't been able to live with himself for having misled her. A great weight lifted from her heart.



That said, I hope and trust you'll be able to get past our divorce and begin a new life.



Leanne closed her eyes. She didn't know if she could do that, loving Mark the way she did.



This will be the last letter you receive from me. The last communication I will ever send you.



Mark He hadn't ended with an endearment, either. Still, every word of his letter throbbed with love. He hadn't said he loved her, but he'd shown her.



This was all the proof she needed. Mark hadn't signed those divorce papers because he no longer loved her. He'd done it to protect her. He'd sacrificed his future for



her. He'd guessed correctly. She'd come to him looking for approval, for some indication from him that she was doing the right thing in accepting a date with Michael Everett. She'd gotten that approval now, in the form of a letter.



While she still had the courage, Leanne picked up the phone. She had Michael's cell phone number and she punched it out, held the receiver to her ear and waited.



"Hello." He sounded tentative. "It's Leanne Lancaster," she said brightly. "I wanted to thank you for dinner the other night."



"I had a good time," he said.



"I did, too. Do you like crispy baked pork chops?" she asked. "Or we can have Italian food if you prefer."



"Ah...I don't know if I've ever tasted pork chops served that way," he said and seemed to find the question amusing. "I love Italian food, so either is fine by me."



"We'll probably have Italian then."



"Are you cooking?"



"I am. How about Sunday night, the twelfth, around six?"



"Works for me."



"Wonderful," she said. "I'll see you then."



"Sunday," he repeated.



"Oh," Leanne said suddenly. If Muriel phoned--or impulsively dropped in, which she'd done once or twice-- while Michael was visiting, it could be awkward. "Perhaps Monday would be better. Do you mind?"



"Not at all. Monday it is."



Leanne appreciated how accommodating he was. She hung up and resisted the urge to write Mark and let him know she'd followed his advice.



Chapter Twenty



"I might bring someone home with me tonight," Macy told Harvey Monday morning. She stood on the other side of the white picket fence that separated their yards. Typical of her neighbor, he ignored her and continued watering the vegetable seedlings coming up in neat rows.



Macy was determined not to move until he responded. Two or three minutes later she was rewarded for her patience when he deigned to acknowledge her comment.



"Male or female?" Harvey asked without looking in her direction. He kept his back to her.



"Male."



That got Harvey's attention. He turned to face her, the hose, still spurting water, in his hand. "When did you meet him?"



"A while back," she said, not elaborating. "I want you to meet him, too."



"Why? Is he your boyfriend?"



"No."



"Then why are you bringing him to meet me?"



"He's a...sort of friend, nothing more. The thing is, I'm not even sure I like him."



Harvey made a scoffing sound and returned to his watering.



"I'm painting a mural in his office."



"Is he that persnickety doctor you talked about?"



"Yup." She grinned. "Persnickety. I love it. Not a word I've actually heard anyone say before."



"Then perhaps you should expand your vocabulary."



"Okay. Yes, he's that punctilious doctor I mentioned."



"The one who annoyed you."



That was putting it mildly. "He's the one."



Harvey snorted, but it could have been a laugh. Sometimes it was difficult to tell. "I'd be interested in meeting that young man."



Macy didn't question his sudden sociability. "You will tonight." This was working out beautifully. Macy would bring Michael by and introduce him to Harvey, and the two men would chat. Michael would ask a few subtle questions and learn what he needed to know so he could order the proper tests. Her next challenge would be to get Harvey to take those tests, but she'd deal with that when she got to it. "See you later," she said, waving goodbye.



Harvey grumbled something unintelligible.



Macy made sure Sammy and her three cats were fed, then took the bus to Michael's office, her supplies in a large canvas pouch.



When she arrived, Linda Barclay, Dr. Everett's nurse, let her in and accompanied her to the hallway. Macy removed the amended drawing from her bag, followed by paints, brushes, her purse, her lunch.



She was eager to begin the mural. She'd worked on the sketch over the weekend, adding several flourishes she thought Michael would like. Well, she hoped he would. Since their conversation on Thursday, she'd begun to think of him by his first name. And since she was passing him off as her "sort of friend" to Harvey, calling him Dr. Everett would be much too formal.



"The doctor isn't in yet," Linda told her as Macy unrolled the drawing.



"I can get started, though, can't I?"



The older woman shrugged. "I suppose that would be all right."



Macy still hadn't made up her mind about Michael's nurse. The woman stood guard over him as if he were royalty in need of protection. And yet, at times, Macy had the distinct impression that Linda, obviously no fool, might have taken a liking to her.



"I'm sure it will be, too," Macy said decisively. She'd struck her agreement with Michael and he'd approved her idea, minus the zoo bars.



The first order of business was to sketch in the background and the various animals. Since the wall had been freshly painted, or so she'd learned from Linda, Macy didn't have to prepare it and set about drawing with a thick lead pencil. She did everything freehand.



She'd just started when Michael showed up. He paused when he saw her.



"Good morning," she said cheerfully without interrupting her work.



"Morning."



He watched for a few minutes, although Macy didn't know what was so fascinating about a few lines. She was still sketching in the trees.



"Do you always hum while you draw?"



"Oh, do I?" Macy frowned. "No one's ever mentioned that before."



"You hum."



She turned and smiled warmly. "You'll notice I got here before you did this morning."



One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile, and Macy could see that getting him to relax would be a real test of her ability. She wasn't sure why she found it so important. She guessed it had to do with Hannah. If she'd loved Michael, and clearly she had, there must be more to him than he'd revealed so far.



"I'd like to get this done as quickly as possible," she told him. Of course, being paid when she was finished was a great incentive.



"Good idea."



"I added a few things to the scene if you want to check it out," she said and pointed to the sketch, which she'd rolled out on the floor. "See the baby giraffe? And the parrots?"



He stared down at it, then nodded. "I like it."



"I was hoping you would." She wiped her forearm across her brow. Her hair was tied back with a red Western-style bandanna. An apron covered her denim skirt and Mariners T-shirt, both faded from multiple washings. She didn't care if she got paint on them, but she liked the way the skirt allowed her freedom of movement.



He walked away and returned a couple of minutes later, entering the examination room at the opposite end of the hallway. Macy heard a little boy let out a wail and wondered what had caused him pain. Soon afterward, however, he was giggling. Macy smiled just listening to him. She wouldn't have guessed it, but Michael seemed to have a way with children.



Macy had hated visiting the doctor as a child and suspected other children felt the same terror she had. As the little boy left, he smiled shyly at Macy. Trailing behind his mother, he paused and studied the partial scene Macy had outlined.



"Do you see the zebra?" she asked, squatting down so they were at eye level.



He nodded excitedly. "The giraffe, too!"



"Cameron," his mother called, and he hurried after her. When he reached the door, he turned and waved. Macy waved back.



She worked all morning without a break and was about to stop for lunch when Michael appeared. "I'm really going to have to ask you not to hum," he said.



"Oh, sorry."



"It's distracting to me and the staff. I don't mean to be difficult, but--"



"Don't worry about it. I didn't realize it was a problem. All you need to do is ask." She pinched her lips shut, then realized she could still hum.



"I'd appreciate it," he said pointedly. He went into his office and closed the door.



Macy stared at his door for a long time. She felt like sticking out her tongue, but didn't want to be a bad example to some suggestible young patient.



She ate a yogurt and fresh strawberries for lunch at a nearby park. When she came back, she saw that Michael's office door remained closed. She knocked lightly.



"Come in," he called.



Macy stepped inside and pulled the door behind her. Michael apparently ate lunch at his desk because there was an open container with a plastic fork poking out.