Free The House by Anjuelle Floyd Page B

she followed him to what had been their bedroom for thirty-three years.
    “Why are you doing this?”
    “You need to sell the house.” Edward was in his pajamas and sit ting upon the bed. His thin feet stood upon the floor. “There’s no sense in you losing valuable advertising time while I’m here.”
    “And what if someone wants to see it? They just barge in on a sick man?”
    “I’m sure Elise made pictures. If not—”
    “No.” Anna shook her head. “Why are you trying to help me sell the house? You battled for over a year, fifteen months , to prevent me from selling it.”
    “You’re going to move to France, aren’t you?
    “Yes, but—”
    “Then, you need to sell the house.”
    The words made no sense. That Edward had spoken them, defied conventional reasoning. But then their situation was anything but conventional.
    “I don’t understand why you’re being so . ...so ... so cooperative. Supportive .” The onset and slow encroachment of Edward’s death could not change the years of hurt she had experienced as his wife.
     
    Anna pondered Edward’s words hours after she had crawled into bed. You need to sell the house . And then, she mused upon her own continuing questions. Anna refused to trust what Edward said or did. Why was he being so amenable? Had he changed? How? Or was this simply another part of his plan to cheat death, or Anna?
    During dinner, Edward had examined the palms of his hands edging toward frailness and trembling. His words I could ask the same of you, concerning Anna’s change of heart, rang aloud in her mind. Why had she stopped plans of divorcing him? She had ordered Elise to take the house off the market. She had the men remove the rental pieces and return the furniture that had been in storage to their original positions around the house. Anna had in effect re established things back to the way they were, or could have been, before she chose to divorce Edward.
    Why , she asked once more.
    “Perhaps for the same reason you brought me back here. To let me die,” Edward had said.
    To let me die. His words resounded into Anna’s sleep followed by her voice echoing, I love you. ?
     
    Chapter 11
    The next morning, Anna awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking. She showered and got dressed. Following the aroma of eggs and bacon, she descended the stairs. From the sound of the voices below, she concluded Theo had arrived.
    “Well, hello stranger,” said Linda.
    “It’s good to see you.” That was Theo.
    “It’s about time.” Brad teased Theo about arriving after every one else.
    “We were wondering where you were,” said Linda.
    Reaching the base of the steps, Anna crossed the foyer and stood by the kitchen door. Theo was at the stove hugging Serine as Edward looked on. David had yet to come downstairs.
    “When did you get in?” Serine asked Theo.
    “This morning.” Theo turned back to the range and flipped the pancakes on the griddle. Then, he walked to the sink and began whipping eggs in a bowl. Theo’s slow lope and careful ministrations reminded Anna of her father. Unlike Serine, the youngest, Theo had always been Anna’s unofficial baby, the truly naive one, who gave generously and from his heart without regard. Anna often thought Theo trusted others too much for his own good.
    Anna entered the kitchen and walked to him. “Since when did you start making breakfast?”
    “Since I realized that women weren’t put on this earth to simply cook and clean.” Theo ceased stirring the eggs, killed the flame under the pancakes, and embraced her.
    “Sorry I’m late,” he whispered.
    “I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispered back.
    Theo served breakfast to Edward, Serine, Linda, and Brad at the kitchen table then said to Anna, “Let’s go into the dining room.” Hesitant and ashamed of her need for attention, she followed. Theo sat in Edward’s chair. “The food should keep them busy for half an hour or so.”
    “You mean before they miss