Free Still the One by Robin Wells

They’d tried for a child; they’d both wanted one so badly. And now it turned out that Katie already had one, and Paul was
     dead, and…
    “It’s so unfair! Paul should have been…” The words choked off in her throat.
    Dave grasped her hand in both of his. “I know, Annette.”
    His hands were warm and familiar, and they covered hers like a long-lost glove. She hadn’t felt his touch in more than four
     years—not even when Paul had died.
    The days surrounding Paul’s death were mostly a blur, but one day stood out. She’d been at the funeral parlor with Katie,
     in the room with the coffin displays, walking from coffin to coffin, numbly trying to pick one. Dave had walked into the heavily
     draped room and looked at Annette, his eyes watery, his shoulders hunched, his expression stricken, his eyes reflecting all
     the agony she’d felt inside.
    “Annette,” he’d whispered in a tear-choked voice. “Oh, Jesus, Annette.” He’d reached out his arms. She’d started to step into
     them, into the only place she might find comfort, into the embrace of the only other person on the planet who had been there
     when this child they had lost was created and born and loved into manhood. And then, over his shoulder, she’d seen that tramp
     he’d married walk into the room and flip her hair. Annette had jerked away.
    She hadn’t wanted his touch then, and she didn’t want it now. She yanked her hand from his.
    “Can I get you a Kleenex?” he asked. “Do you want to talk?”
    “No.” Her throat felt as swollen as the bayou after a rain. “I want you to go.”
    “Annette, this thing with Katie—we should be glad for her.”
    Annette tried to swallow.
    “She’ll need your support. You’re like a mother to her.”
    He was right. Annette jerked her head in a stiff nod.
    “That’s my girl.”
    “I’m not your girl,” she said curtly.
    Dave’s voice grew low and soft. “In my heart, you’ll always be my girl.”
    “Please go.”
    “Okay. On my way out, I’ll ask the floor nurse if she has a vase.” He headed toward the door, then turned, his hand on the
     doorknob. “See you tomorrow.”
    “Don’t bother.”
    “Oh, it’s no bother.” He gave her a wink as he closed the door. Dave used to wink at her all the time, a silly little you-and-me-are-in-this-together
     signal that always made her smile.
    Despite everything that had happened between them, her foolish heart leaped at the gesture.

C HAPTER SIX

    After talking with Dave at the bookstore, Katie hurried to the Sunnyside Assisted-Living Villa, where she rushed through an
     appointment to perm Mavis Shroeder’s thin, gray hair in the tiny, one-sink salon. Unfortunately, she couldn’t rush the perm’s
     timing, so it was nearly two hours later before she could make her way up to Annette’s room in the rehab wing. She wanted
     to break the news about Gracie and Zack in person, but gossip spread faster than melted butter on hot toast in the small community.
     She knocked on the door, wondering if Annette already knew.
    “Come in,” Annette called.
    Katie hesitated, her stomach roiling. She wasn’t sure how the older woman would react. Annette was the mother she’d never
     had, the mother she’d always wanted, and her good opinion meant more to Katie than anything. All of the self-help experts
     out there would probably say it wasn’t healthy to care so much what someone else thought about her, but Katie couldn’t help
     it. She loved Annette, and the last thing she wanted to do was to hurt her or let her down.
    Annette clicked off the TV as Katie stepped into the room. An uncharacteristic tension stretched between them.
    She knows.
    All of the old shame she used to feel about her mother’s behavior gorged Katie’s throat. Oh, God—did Annette think she was
     like her mother? Was she repulsed? Did she feel scornful? What if she wanted nothing further to do with her? Even faint disappointment
     would be unbearable. Katie tried to