Chapter 119 The Calm Anchor
With a faint, weary rasp the key turned in the lock. The sound was immediately muffled by the apartment’s silence.
After entering, Annabel let the door close with a click. The time on the wall above the kitchen counter was 10:47 p. m.
Still holding the rolled-up illustration of the Lighthouse Museum under her arm, she stood for a moment in the tiny foyer.
Only the dim silver light from the street lamps coming in through the living room window illuminated the completely dark apartment.
The thrilling pride she had felt an hour earlier was chilled by a deep bone-weary exhaustion that descended upon her.
She extended her hand and flipped the switch next to the door. As the living room was filled with a warm yellow light the shadows were driven into the corners.
Annabel paused.
On the sofa, a figure was stretched out. Fred was sleeping with his body curled into the worn cushions and his head resting uncomfortably on a throw pillow.
He was still wearing his jeans and soft grey t-shirt. His dangling hand was next to an open face-down book on the rug.
In his sleep he appeared youthful and completely helpless.
She smiled softly and completely honestly. It wasn’t the dazzling frenzied smile of career success but rather something more subtle and profound.
As though it were delicate glass, she carefully placed the drawing scroll on the entry table.
Silently, she moved closer, her gaze following the contours of his face.
As she watched him breathe, the slight anxiety that had raised her eyebrows seemingly vanished along with the corporate headlines and the abrupt unwanted reappearance of the name Carson.
He had been anticipating her arrival. His battery had simply died.
“He’s the nicest person I’ve ever known” she thought, a simple yet profound truth that made her body hurt. “He does nothing but wait.”
She knelt next to the couch.
There was a subtle scent of laundry detergent and his aftershaves citrus notes in the air around him.
“Fred” she said softly so as not to startle him.
The stray hair on his forehead was gently brushed away by her reaching out.
“Hey.” She said “I’m home.”
His deep, drowsy brown eyes blinked slowly open pausing to focus on her face. He remained partially asleep.
His face lit up with a broad relieved smile that lifted her heart after he scowled in mild surprise.
“Annabel” he muttered, his voice was sluggish.
His torso and arms moved in a long oversized motion and he groaned in satisfaction as he stretched languidly.
The stretch caused his t-shirts’ material to tighten across his chest.
“What time is it?” he inquired.
She continued to smile as she said
“Late.You really were out” she said.
Raising himself, he used the heels of his hands to massage his eyes. He seemed taken aback to be in the room as he glanced around it.
“I was just reading so yeah.” he said playfully “I wasn’t waiting for you or anything.”
He avoided making eye contact.
“Obviously not.”In a tone of mocking incredulity she said “I believe you. It’s a nice touch to have the book on the rug.”
He made a scratchy low chuckle. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward.
“The design” he inquired, his voice now completely focused. “Have you completed it?”
Her smile stretched.
“It’s done.Absolutely flawlessly done. Jude was impressed.”she said.
“Good” he said, his voice full of genuine pleasure which made her feel the accomplishment again.
With his warm calloused fingers grazing her graphite-smudged skin, he extended his arm to grasp her hand.
“You must have been totally tired” he said
“I am” she acknowledged. “Wired and wiped out all at once.”
He rose and gently dragged her to her feet. He grasped both of her hands.
“I didn’t eat so are you hungry? Before delving deeply into the history of Roman aqueducts I was going to attempt to make that stir-fry” he said.
She looked at the book and said “I see that.And no I’m not starving. A few hours ago I got a dry bagel at the office.”
He scowled a little.
“You’ve been sketching a masterpiece for twelve hours Annabel. A dry bagel? You need real food” he said.
“Fred, all I need is my bed and a shower.”She pleaded, “Please.”
He sighed a little in defeat.
“Alright. All right” he said. He gently squeezed her hands together. “Would you like a quick cup of your favorite coffee? You know black strong just the way you like it.”
“Oh that’s very kind of you” she shook her head. “But I can’t stay up so late. Eleven is almost here. I will never be able to sleep.”
“All right.” He nodded slowly and said “Late.”
She let her hands fall. “Obviously.”
she wrapped her hands around his waist. She pressed her forehead to his chest.
“You are the nicest man.” She said
With his chin resting on top of her head, he encircled her with his arms and drew her close. His scent was incredibly familiar and solid.
“I always wait.” He said
She withdrew, gazing up into his face. Despite her fatigue her eyes were filled with love.
“I’m going upstairs. I’m going to collapse after washing this graphite off my face.”She said
“Nighty” he said.
“Good night” she said to him.
She turned and left the living room making her way to the stairs via the hallway. She didn’t turn around.
Fred watched her leave standing exactly where he had been. The gentle thud thud thud of her feet on the wooden stairs caught his attention.
In the quiet apartment the sound was a soothing rhythm. He heard the bedroom door upstairs click shut.
After letting out a long silent breath, he smiled to himself. The tension of the evening had entirely vanished and the smile was sincere and easy.
“She’s home” he thought.
He approached the entrance table and ran his hand over the heavy folded vellum of the Lighthouse Museums layout.
It was substantial and weighty in his grasp. His gaze returned to the stairs. He recognized the gilded cage she had abandoned.
However, the fact that she was back and that her key was in the lock was enough. Turning off the light, he went to the sofa and picked up the book about Roman aqueducts.
The space retreated into darkness. He was still waiting but now he was only waiting for dawn.