It Had to Be You

  It Had To Be You

  By

  Marilyn Lee

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  It Had to Be You by Marilyn Lee

  Red Rose™ Publishing

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  Red Rose™ Publishing

  Copyright© 2010 Marilyn Lee

  ISBN: 978-1-60435-682-3

  Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett

  Editor: Belle

  Line Editor: WRFG

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  It Had To Be You

  By

  Marilyn Lee

  Chapter One

  Driving over the Ben Franklin Bridge on the tail end of rush hour, Annalise had a feeling she was making a mistake. There were better ways of spending a hot August day. True, Deb had sounded frantic and desperate on the phone the night before, but then Deb always sounded frantic and desperate when she wanted her way.

  If even half of what Deb said was true, she should be heading in the opposite direction. Besides, she would be more of a liability than an asset. She cast a quick glance down at her hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, still slightly swollen and uncomfortably stiff from the surgeries.

  Just for a moment, she felt the now familiar panic grip her. What if her wrists never regained the flexibility that was so important in her work? What if her gripping ability never returned?

  What if—what if you follow all the doctor’s instructions, trust in the Lord, and see what happens? A quiet, inner voice urged. Just trust in the Lord. He forgave your transgression with Tom. He won’t forsake you now.

  Relaxing her tense shoulder muscles, and letting the worries drift away, she turned her thoughts back to Deb. Obviously, she couldn’t be of any real help, but at least she could spend the day with Deb. She could listen. Maybe even agree to babysit for a few hours while Deb got away for a quick time out. Under no circumstances, was she going to allow Deb to sweet talk or cajole her into anything more.

  She thought of the hastily packed suitcase resting in the trunk of her car and grimaced. So maybe she’d agree to stay the night or the weekend. Just to help out a little, if things were as bad as Deb claimed.

  An hour later, she drove through a small, quiet New Jersey town full of large homes. Fifteen minutes later, she turned onto a dirt road. She stopped the car in front of a big Victorian house, set back from the road and surrounded by trees.

  A screen door banged open, and Deb, looking more flustered than Annalise had seen her look in years, came out of the house, followed by two adorable blond–haired, blue–eyed children.

  “Annie! Thank God you’re here!” Deb rushed to meet her. “I’m at my wits end.”

  Four years spent as Deb’s college roommate had taught her to take most of what Deb said with a healthy dose of salt. Still, the careless ponytail, the smudged sleeveless top, and wrinkled shorts spoke volumes of the usually chic Deb’s distress.

  “It’s me all right. The saver of your wits,” she said lightly and leaned up to kiss Deb’s cheek. “Hmm.” She drew back and studied her friend’s face. Her bare face. And a crumpled outfit? Things were bad indeed.

  “Annie! This is no time to joke!” Deb complained. “It’s nearly eleven and I haven’t had time to put on my face!”

  “Not that you need any face other than the very pretty one you’re wearing, but why not?” she asked, allowing her gaze to rest on the house.

  So this was the house of an architect. Although she knew Deb’s brother hadn’t designed the house, she felt certain she could learn something of his personality and that of his late wife’s.

  The house was immense. It would have big, sunny rooms, a huge fireplace in the living room, a humongous kitchen, and tons of character. Just the type of house she’d live in when and if she ever met Mr. Right. She grimaced. Or Mr. Half Right.

  “I’ll tell you why not,” Deb said, sounding aggrieved. She glanced down at the two children who clung to her. “These two darlings cling to me like this from the moment they get up in the morning—in the very early morning—to the moment Reed drags his slow behind home from work. Late nearly every night.”

  Deb bent and gave each child a quick hug. “I love them dearly, but I can’t cope, Annie. I just can’t. You have to help me.”

  “I’m here to help.” Annalise smiled at the two children. “Introduce us, Deb.”

  “Oh, I knew I could count on you, Annie!”

  “But only for the weekend,” she added quickly. “Now about that intro.”

  “This is Reed Junior,” Deb said touching the boy’s hair. “He’s six and we call him RP. And this is his sister, Maria, named after her mommy. Ria’s eight going on fifteen.”

  Eight going on fifteen? Charming. She smiled at the two children. “Hi, RP. Hi, Ria. I’m Annalise, but you can call me Anna or Annie if you like.”

  “Hi,” RP said, and then retreated behind Deb’s leg.

  “Is Anna Lise your first and last name?” Ria demanded.

  “It’s one name. My full name is Annalise Lewis.”

  “And mine is Maria Phillips. Like my mommy.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Maria Phillips.” She turned to RP and winked. “And you too, of course, RP.”

  He winked back.

  Satisfied, she got to her feet, looking toward the house again. “That was a long, thirsty drive. How about a drink?”

  “Did you bring one with you?”

  “No.”

  “Oh…you mean you want me to make you one?”

  Annalise shrugged. “Silly me.”

  Deb grimaced. “Well, if you’re going to be sarcastic, come inside and I’ll see what I can find to drink.”

  Annalise laughed and followed Deb and the children inside.

  The house lived up to her expectation. The rooms were big and airy. And dusty. That was to be expected. It probably hadn’t occurred to Deb to give the house even the skimpiest of dusting in the two weeks she’d been there.

  And she wouldn’t be much help in that area, she thought, glancing down at her hands. She followed Deb into the large kitchen and couldn’t suppress a small, startled squeak.

  The sink nearly overflowed with what looked like several days’ worth of dishes. Food stains decorated the yellow, tiled floor. The large kitchen table held what looked like last night’s as well as that morning’s breakfast dishes. There couldn’t be a single clean plate in the house.

  She turned a narrowed gaze on her friend. This was too much, even for Deb. “Deb.”

  “Don’t give me that fish–eyed look of yours, Annie. I know the place is a little...untidy, but as I told Reed last night, I am not a housekeeper—cum—nanny,” she
said defensively. “I’m just a sister trying to do the best she can for an ungrateful brother.”

  “If this is your best, that husband to be of yours is going to be in trouble,” Annalise said with all the frankness of an old friend.

  Deb didn’t bother trying to look outraged. She just laughed and sank down onto the nearest chair. “I really have done my best, Annie.” She waved her hand in a sweeping arc that encompassed everything from the dingy, white walls to the pretty, but dusty yellow and white curtains at the windows, “but I’m just not cut out for this domestic life.”

  “Look out Dave,” she said of Deb’s fiancé and they both laughed.

  “You see how it is here, Annie,” Deb said, as both Ria and RP attempted to sit on her lap. “It’s all I can do to keep meals on the table. You have to help me.”

  “I said I’d stay the weekend. Providing it’s okay with your brother and these two darlings.” As she spoke, she smiled at the two children who were staring at her.

  “It had better be all right with him,” Deb said darkly.

  “It’s okay with us,” Ria said, “but Auntie Deb says me and RP are like the old ball and chain.”

  Annalise arched a brow at Deb.

  “She’s joking,” Deb said quickly.

  “No, I’m not,” Ria protested. “You did say it.”

  “Okay. I was joking. I meant it affectionately. Little pitchers,” Deb muttered.

  “Have big ears,” Ria finished. “Auntie Deb, me and RP are hungry. What’s for lunch?”

  “Lunch?” Deb looked ready to pull out her short blond hair by the roots. “You had breakfast less than two hours ago. You can’t be hungry already!”

  “We don’t like burned oatmeal,” Ria complained.

  Annalise glanced down at the two barely touched, but clearly burned bowls of oatmeal. “Oh, you poor, darlings,” she said. “What would you like for lunch?”

  Ria gave her a cautious look. “Can you cook?”

  “My friends tell me I can.”

  Ria glanced quickly up at Deb before looking at her again. “I mean real food like a mommy cooks? Food you can eat.”

  “Little ingrate!” Deb mumbled.

  Her lips twitched, but she answered seriously. “Yes. Real food like a mommy would cook and kids can eat.”

  Ria brightened. “Oh, Good! Then RP likes fries and hot dogs. I like baloney and cheese.”

  “What kind of bread?”

  “White.”

  “Tell you what. If you and RP will go play while your Auntie Deb and I clean up a bit, that’s exactly what you’ll have for lunch in about an hour. Deal?”

  She watched the two blond–haired kids exchange looks. It was clear who was in charge when Ria nodded. “Deal.”

  She stared after them, smiling. “They are too cute, Deb.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Deb said, springing to her feet. “Now that you’re here, I can freshen up and drive into Philly and have a late lunch with Dave.”

  She pressed a quick kiss against Annalise’s cheek and practically ran toward the door.

  Annalise waited until she was nearly there before clearing her throat. “Ahem.”

  Deb stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “What? Did I forget something?”

  She nodded, smiling. “You could say that, yes.”

  Deb frowned. “What?”

  “Like I came to help, not take over.” She held up her right hand and grimaced. “I’m not exactly at full strength you know.”

  “Oh, what a beast I am!” Deb rushed across the room and gently took her swollen hands in her long, slender ones. “How are they? They look...big.”

  She made a face. “Well, hey, thanks for noticing.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Do they hurt?”

  “No; they’re just a little stiff.”

  “Just a little?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly, suspiciously.

  “Good! Then you can handle things for a couple of hours while Dave and I have lunch. If I have to stay here much longer, I’m going to take hostages. I’m serious,” she threatened.

  She left her protest unspoken. What was the use? Even if Deb stayed, she probably wouldn’t be much help. “Okay. Go enjoy yourself, but I expect you to be back here before your brother gets home...when?”

  Deb flashed her a happy smile and released her hands. “Around seven–thirty. I’ll be here. I promise!”

  Left alone in the kitchen, she shook her head, uncertain where to start. She glanced around. The kitchen furnishings were new, but she saw with regret they didn’t include that handy little gadget called a dishwasher.

  She glanced down at her hands. There was no way she could manage to wash all those dishes. Her fingers ached just thinking about it. She’d been a fool to allow Deb to get away without doing a few dishes first.

  She remembered the despondent look in Deb’s eyes. No, she’d made the right decision. Deb really had looked on the point of screaming. She must love her older brother and his children an awful lot to have even struggled along this long.

  She would do what she could to help during the next few days. By Monday, Deb would be refreshed enough to make it through another week or so.

  But first things first. Stifling an inward groan, she moved toward the sink. If she were going to keep her promise to Ria and RP, she’d better get a move on.

  A little over an hour later, she, Ria, and RP were sitting at the clean kitchen table having lunch.

  “Are you going to cook for us all weekend, Annie?” Ria asked around a mouthful of baloney and cheese.

  She finished chewing a mouthful of fries before she answered. “Well, I hadn’t planned to, but I could if you’d all like. Your Auntie Deb—”

  “Can’t cook,” RP said. “Not at all.”

  “She tries and we try to eat what she cooks, but everything is always burned. Then she cries when she sees we can’t eat her food.”

  “For a grown up, she cries a lot,” RP confided. “And she cooks worse than Daddy. At least his stuff isn’t burned.”

  “Daddy’s stuff has no taste, but it’s not burned. We sure do wish Miss Holland was still here.”

  “Sure do,” RP said.

  The poor darlings obviously hadn’t had a decent meal since...”How long has it been since Miss Holland’s accident?”

  “Three weeks,” RP said.

  “Three long weeks,” Ria amended.

  “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  “Daddy says she’s very sick. It’s going to be several months before she can come back.” Ria lifted her sandwich to her mouth, and then paused. “Auntie Deb is getting married before then. Will you stay until Miss Holland comes back?”

  She stared at the child in amazement. “Me? No. Oh, Ria, I can’t!”

  “Why not? Do you have a husband and brats like RP and me you have to get back to?”

  “Ria! You and RP are not brats.”

  Ria looked at her with guileless blue eyes. “Auntie Deb says we are.”

  “She was joking,” she said firmly. “Children are a blessing from the Lord.”

  “That’s what mommy used to say,” Ria said in a quiet voice.

  Having lost her own mother when she was ten, Annalise knew the pain Ria and RP must feel. “And I’ll bet she loved you both very much!”

  “Mommy was the prettiest and nicest mommy in the world,” Ria said.

  Annalise’s smile encompassed both children. “And I’m sure she felt very blessed to have been you and RP’s mommy.”

  Ria smiled suddenly. “That’s what Daddy says. Are you anybody’s mommy, Annie?”

  “No, I’m not married.”

  “Then you can stay,” RP said, as if that settled the matter.

  “No, RP, I can’t, but I’m sure your father will make some other arrangements.”

  “No, he won’t. He says RP and me are too precious to leave with just anyone. So he’s at his wits end, like Auntie Deb. We heard him tell her that l
ast night when he asked her to think about putting off her wedding. But she started crying and Daddy had to apologize and say he didn’t mean it.”

  “But he did,” RP added.

  “It would be best for all of us, if you stayed and Auntie Deb went. I’ll bet you don’t cry nearly as much as she does and you won’t want to spend forever putting on your face in the morning.”

  “I probably would, if I were half as pretty as your Auntie Deb,” she said slowly, aware that Deb had not exaggerated in the least. She really did have her hands full.

  “You’re pretty,” RP said, his blue eyes wide with surprise.

  “Not as pretty as Auntie Deb or Taylor,” Ria pointed out. “But pretty enough. We like the face you have on right now.”

  “And you don’t even have any war paint on either.”

  War paint? She put down her fork and turned to look at RP. “What do you know about war paint?”

  He shrugged. “Daddy says women put it on when they’re hunting for a husband.”

  “Oh, he did, did he?”

  RP nodded. “Yeah, but you don’t need any ‘cause you’re pretty just the way you are. I even think you’re prettier than Taylor.”

  She smiled at him. “Thanks, RP.” Now if she could only find a male twenty or so years older who agreed with him, she’d be all right. “Who’s Taylor?”

  “Daddy’s girlfriend.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why daddy’s pretty girlfriend didn’t come help out, but she bit back the urge. First, it was none of her business. Second, gossiping with the children about their father’s personal life was a definite no–no.

  “Okay, guys, here’s the plan. After lunch, you’re going to give me the grand tour of the house. Then we’ll do a little house cleaning.”

  “RP and me don’t clean,” Ria objected.

  “Well, Ria, it’s your house and today you and RP are going to clean.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words. “Okay?”

  “Miss Holland never made us clean,” Ria said, pressing her lips together.

  “Well, hey, Miss Holland isn’t here now. I am.” She looked into Ria’s mutinous face. “Unless you want me to leave.”