A Promise to Remember (30 page)

He would have ignored her knocks and stayed hidden in the
darkness, but he knew better. Christi would knock on every
window and door in the house until either someone answered or she was satisfied there was truly no one home. Better to get
her out of here as quickly as possible. He eased himself forward
and cracked the door.

"Oh," she said, seeping with disapproval. "There you are."

"Yes, here I am. What do you need?"

"Came to check on Andie. She sick?"

"She hasn't made it home from church yet. Must have gone
to lunch."

"Hasn't made it home from church? She didn't come to
church. That's why I'm here. Made my random appearance,
and no Andie. She okay?"

He wasn't ready for this. Dread tugged at his stomach, which
wasn't even close to strong enough this morning. He winced.
Meanwhile, Christi stood on her toes and strained to look over
his shoulders. She was one pushy piece of work. "Christi, I told
you, she's not here."

Christi continued trying to look around him. "Well, where
is she?"

"I'm not sure."

For the first time since this conversation started, Christi
actually looked at him. Her lips scrunched together and her
eyes narrowed. "You sick?"

"I worked late." Not that its any of your business.

She lifted an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.
"Um-hmm. Tell her to call me when she gets home."

Yep.

She pivoted on one foot and stalked back to her car. Her
engine roared to life and she screeched down the drive.

Blair walked back into the kitchen, picked up the phone,
and dialed Andie's cell. It connected immediately to her voice
mail. He hung up without leaving a message.

He walked over to the message board. As with most of her
things, it was so cluttered he couldn't tell if a note had been left for him or not. He thumbed through the assorted notices tacked
to the corkboard, his hopes dying with each layer. Nothing.

Her studio. He rushed down the small hallway, the apprehension mounting, and looked into the room. Empty. Its usual
state of disarray proved totally uninformative. He searched every
room in the house. "Andie?" The door to the hall bathroom was
closed. He knocked. "Andie?"

No answer. He tried to slide the door open, but it was locked.
Panic zoomed through him at full speed. What had she done?

"Andie!" He pulled against the door, but it was useless. He
ran into the kitchen, got a knife, and used it to trip the latch.
He flung open the door, his heart pounding, dreading what he
was about to see.

Empty.

Only then did he remember Andie's comment earlier in the
week about that lock sticking. His heart rate surged, the excess
blood crushed his head like a mallet. But at least the adrenaline
finally snapped his mind fully into gear.

If shes not here, and she didn't go to church, where is she?

A piece of a thought began to nag at the back of his mind.
His feet walked of their own accord up the stairs and back to
their bedroom. He opened the door toAndie's closet. Scattered
shoes filled every inch of the floor, shirts hung sideways, purses
bulged over the top shelf-Andie's usual state of disorganization. How could she stand to live this way? A single bare spot
drew his attention-a space just big enough to have held her
small carry-on case. A space that stood vacant.

Andie had left him.

Andie had no idea where she was headed. The fact that she
didn't want to see Blair right then was her only clear thought.
Where could she go?

All the major hotels in the Santa Barbara area would be
booked solid on such a beautiful spring weekend. But today was
Sunday. Maybe she could find something. But which hotel?

More than anything, she wanted time alone so she could
think. This made it necessary to get out of the downtown area.
Still, she didn't want to go too far.

What about those cozy little cabins she'd seen out by El
Capitan State Beach? She could rent one, take long walks on
the sand, and think about what to do. It offered the privacy
she needed.

She turned north onto Highway 101 and prayed they had
availability She arrived twenty minutes later and walked up
the plank steps to the registration office.

"Yes, we have a lovely creek-side unit available for the next
three nights. Mrs.-"

"Smith. Andrea Smith. I'll pay cash up front if that's okay."

The twentysomething girl behind the counter smiled. "Cash
works for me." She typed into her computer screen, then placed the money in a drawer that had popped open. "Okay, here's your
key. There's a small shop that serves coffee, and you can buy any
sundries you might need there, as well. Our restaurant serves
breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Drive across the bridge and park
your car in the creek-side lot. Someone will pick you up in a
cart momentarily. Enjoy your stay, Mrs. Smith."

"Thank you." Andie drove her car across the bridge and pulled
her suitcase out of the passenger seat. Before she'd even closed
the door, a golf cart drove up behind her. The young man behind
the wheel appeared only a few years older than Chad, had the
same intense blue eyes. Did he play baseball? Love the Dodgers? Hate school dances?

Drive too fast?

A sharp pain shot through her chest. How many wounds can
it take before it finally goes numb?

"I'm Bruce. I'll get you to your cabin." He took the bag from
her hand, oblivious to her state of mind, and tossed it in the
back. "We drive these things around here all the time. If you
ever want a lift back to your car, or to the restaurant, just flag
one of us down." Andie took the passenger seat next to him,
and the cart shot forward, winding its way over a packed dirt
path through a wooded glen.

A minute or two later, they stopped outside a small wooden
cabin. Only the wheels behind the bottom latticework revealed
the truth. These were nicely dressed trailers.

Bruce carried her suitcase up the steps and opened the door
to her unit. "There's your coffeepot and fridge. Thermostat's on
the wall. The fire ring out front is all ready. Just strike a match
and you're good to go. More wood is available for purchase at
the general store if you decide you want to keep it going."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have a nice stay." Bruce hopped back into the
cart and sped away.

Andie collapsed into one of the rough-hewn wooden chairs
on her front porch. She listened to the gurgle of the creek somewhere below, heard the chirping of the birds, and wondered
what she was going to do now.

Should she leave Blair for good? She didn't have anywhere
to go. And if she left, what would she do for a living? Her last
paying job had been over seventeen years ago.

What could she put on a resume? Three years working in an
insurance office straight out of college? She had left that job
over a year before Chad was born and didn't have the slightest
idea about insurance workings these days.

She could stay with Blair. Stick it out. Seek counseling.

No. She would not stay simply to pay the bills. She knew too
many women-businessmen's wives in town, politicians' wives
on TV-who put up with cheating husbands for security and the
promise of paid credit card bills. No, she would not do that.

She needed time to examine all the layers of issues involved.
And she didn't want to talk to Blair at this point. She'd spend
the next couple of days hidden away. Think. Pray.

Pray? What good has prayer ever done? She'd prayed for Chad
every day of his life-that life had been cut much too short. She
had prayed for her relationship with Blair, and he was having
an affair. The realization began to slowly dawn on her. She was
mad at God. Maybe she had been all along.

"Suppose you two better go to dinner without me." Christi's
declaration irritated her more than a little. Sunday night was
family-dinner-out night, with a careful rotation schedule of
who chose the restaurant. She had endured the last two weeks,
through Kelly's sushi and Scott's steakhouse. Tonight should
he her turn.

Just thinking about Tupelo Junction made her mouth water.
The gourmet Southern food was her favorite in all of Santa
Barbara. Fried green tomatoes, squash hush puppies, free range
fried chicken! In her tightly controlled menu of the regular week,
Christi looked forward to her once-every-three-weeks deviation
into the sinful. She sighed.

Kelly's face lit up. "Does this mean we can go to sushi,"

"Work that out with your father. But next week it's my turn."

Kelly shook her head. "I don't think so. When I missed a week
because of the ski trip, I didn't get my time back."

"That was for pleasure. This is different."

Scott lifted some grapes from the fruit bowl and popped two
into his mouth. "I'd be willing to bet that she's checked into the
Bacara and is having a facial by now. I don't know what you're so
worried about. It's not like Andie's the wild, adventurous type."
He popped in three more grapes. "Either that, or she's back home
by now, and she and Blair are so busy making up for whatever
it was they fought about, they forgot to let you know."

"No. Blair's frantic. He's called me at least five times. He
knows I'd kill him if she showed up and he didn't call."

Scott picked up his jacket from the chair in front of him. "What
do you think, Kel? Shall we go get some California rolls?"

"Woo-hoo." Kelly danced out the door behind her father.

Christi picked up the phone and dialed Andie's cell, again.
And as before, she got voice mail. She needed to do something-to get in her car and start looking for her friend. But
where should she start?

She picked up her keys, determined to systematically drive
to the most likely places. She'd start with the beach, then drive
through the parking lot of all the nice hotels in the area. It was
an inconvenience she wouldn't have to suffer if the desk clerks
had been more helpful on the phone. All that blah blah about
confidentiality made her sick.

No matter. Andie's car in the parking lot would tell the tale.

An hour into her search, Christi was driving toward the Bacara
when her cell phone began playing jazz. She flipped it open and
looked at the caller ID. "Andie, where are you? I've been worried
to death. Gave up my Tupelo Junction night to go looking for
you." Although she'd meant the last part as lighthearted, she realized how shallow it sounded as soon as the words were out.

"I ... I've left Blair. Do you want to come talk?"

"Yes, I want to come talk. Where are you? Might take me a
while-I'm all the way out at the Bacara, looking for you."

"You're pretty close, then."

Andie gave directions and hung up the phone. At least one
thing was going right she wouldn't have far to drive. Five minutes
later, Christi pulled into the parking lot. Before she stepped foot
out of her car, a gorgeous young thing in a golf cart pulled up
behind her. "Need a lift?"

Christi fluttered her eyes, a habit ever since Kappa Phi, and
floated into the seat beside him. "Your place or mine?"

He laughed but didn't answer.

"Actually, I'm here to visit my friend. She's in 113."

"Oh, Mrs. Smith. I drove her to her cabin a while ago. She
seemed melancholy."

Mrs. Smith? Apparently she's more upset than I thought. "Melancholy? Well, aren't you the poet. Either way, I'm here to cheer
her up."

"Good deal. She's such a classy-looking lady."

Classy-looking. Lady. Those words summed up Andie quite
well. Although she never seemed to see it in herself. "Don't
worry. An hour with me and she'll be begging you to drive her
around the facilities at top speed."

He smiled as the cart squeaked to a stop. "I look forward
to that." Christi climbed out, and the dreamboat disappeared into the night, the gentle hum of the electric motor fading as
he went.

"Were you flirting?"