“Is it . . . lonely? Being by yourself?” Annie couldn’t even imagine. As much as she and Brody hadn’t been getting along, she was grateful to have him in her life and for Finn. To know she had a family she could count on. She didn’t miss the days when she was single and living in the city by herself, wishing for companionship until Lili came into her life.
“It is.” Serena nodded. “You have no idea. I literally have no family at all. If I just disappeared tomorrow, no one would be looking for me.” She frowned, her mouth pulling down. “Do you know what that feels like? To know no one would miss me?”
“What about your friends?” Annie couldn’t imagine having no one care if she disappeared.
Serena gazed off into the distance. “They’re all married now and have their own lives. They don’t have time for me. And the friends I had when I was with Danny all took his side. They don’t talk to me.” She brought her gaze back to Annie. “That’s why I realized it was time to take charge. To live my right life now.”
Annie stared at Serena, thinking it was a strange phrase. Live my right life. What did that mean? Was Annie living her right life? Was Finn? Maybe he was living the wrong life and would have been better off with a different mother.
She stood, immediately appalled at the thought. She was Finn’s mother, and they were living their right lives. They were.
24
Serena narrowed her eyes when Annie jumped off the couch. “What? What are you thinking? I can tell something is spinning around in your mind.”
Her tone had Annie lifting a brow. “How do you know that?”
Serena’s smile was crooked, and the spark in her eyes that Annie had thought she’d seen earlier flashed again for a brief moment. “I know we just met, but I feel as if I know you. Like I can anticipate what you’re feeling and thinking.”
“Hm.” Annie bit her bottom lip. Even though Serena’s statement should have creeped her out, it actually warmed her heart. To have someone know her like that, without her having to spell it out, was nice. Could she really tell a stranger something she’d been ashamed to say to even her sisters and best friends? But Serena had said it herself—it did seem as if they’d known each other for years, not just a few hours.
“You can tell me.” Serena’s voice was soft, almost gentle. “I won’t judge.”
Without answering, Annie went down to her knees on the floor and sank back into child’s pose, her hips reaching back over her calves, her spine flat. She stretched her arms forward, tenting her fingers on the floor to maximize the stretch.
“What’re you doing?” Annie could hear the confusion in Serena’s voice.
“When I was dancing and stressed out, child’s pose always helped me.” Annie’s voice was muffled, her forehead touching the ground. She knew Serena wouldn’t judge—that was why she was about to tell her—but it felt safer to say the words from down here.
“Okay.” Serena got on the floor next to her, imitating Annie’s pose. “I guess I’ll try it too.”
Annie took a breath and let it out. “I didn’t feel that maternal instinct everyone talks about when Finn was born. Of course I love him, but I didn’t get that, I don’t know, mothering feeling and that all-consuming love I kept hearing about.” She reached both hands to the right as she let her hips sink to the left, deepening the stretch down her left side.
Serena copied her. “Not everyone feels the same. Don’t compare yourself to others.”
Annie moved her hands to the other side. “But it was weird because right after the birth, when they first put him on my chest, I did feel a moment of connection. Like he was fiercely mine.” She lifted her head to look at Serena, who was still copying her moves. “But I never had that feeling again.” Shame washed over her, and she dropped her head down to the floor again.
“There’s a reason for that.” Serena’s voice was low.
Annie stilled at the strange statement. Reason? What reason?
“Don’t beat yourself up.” Serena sat back on her haunches. “It doesn’t mean you love him any less. Some women just don’t get all gushy and mushy. But let me ask you something: If Finn were in danger, would you think twice before trying to save him? At your own risk?”
Annie was about to say that his life had been in danger, and she’d been sleeping on the beach, but she snapped her mouth shut. It was one thing to admit she hadn’t had that maternal love at first sight, but she wasn’t about to give Serena an example of how she was a bad mother. She thought about the question. Would she? If the house were burning down and she knew Finn was inside, would she run in and save him? And relief coursed through her when she realized the answer was yes.
She sat up and faced Serena. “I would. I would save him from a burning building. I would save him if someone was trying to hurt him.” If I had known he was in danger in the woods, I would have run to him. I thought he was safe with Lindsay.
She wished there were something she could do to help Finn. When he was awake, he was fine, as if nothing had happened. But at night, it was a different story. He’d had another nightmare the other day. She’d been reading on the couch after he’d gone to bed and Brody was in the bedroom watching TV.
Images from that night flashed through her mind. Finn had mumbled something in his sleep from the mattress on the floor, and Annie had tensed. She waited, hoping he’d quiet down and stay asleep, but the mumbling got louder until she could make out words. She stood, ready to soothe him, but it was too late. He shot up in bed, yelling, “No! Lindsay! No! Lindsay! Lindsay!”
In the next instant, she was by his bed and knelt to gather him into her arms, rocking him as he sobbed against her. She made soothing noises, listening to the anguish in his voice as he cried and mumbled Lindsay’s name over and over again.
Then she’d looked up at Brody standing in the bedroom doorway. Their eyes met. Annie knew he felt as helpless as she did. They hadn’t been with Finn when he’d needed them most. They had no idea what had happened to Lindsay, the teenage girl who’d been watching him while Annie napped at the lake beach.
Annie’s mind brought up an image of Lindsay’s face as she imagined it’d looked that day, her eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky. Had whoever killed Lindsay threatened Finn, told him not to tell anyone what happened or they would get him? Or had they been after Finn too, and he’d escaped before they could get him? Coldness stabbed through her heart at the thought. Even after months of therapy sessions, all the therapist had been able to get out of him was that there had been a woman in the woods with them. Finn hadn’t said much to the therapist in New York. She’d said he was detached, just sitting there, no expression on his face. He hadn’t drawn anything that would have given them a clue when the therapist asked him to draw what had happened. It was only at night, while he slept, that his terror came out.
When Finn had finally quieted down, Annie wiped his face with her shirt and tucked him back into bed. She watched him for a moment, her poor tortured little boy. His forehead was creased, and even though he was asleep, he looked like he was carrying a heavy burden on his little shoulders. She’d been hoping being away from the place where the tragedy had happened would stop the nightmares.