Danielle Steel - Lightning

“My Mommy throws up all the time,” Annabelle said defensively, glaring at her. She knew they weren't friends, and weren't going to be, no matter what her Daddy said. She wasn't like Brock at all. She was mean and nasty. And she kept touching Annabelle's Daddy and kissing him. Annabelle had seen it. “My Mommy's very brave,” Annabelle went on, as Sam took off her dress and threw it in the sink. He felt her head for a fever, but she didn't have one. “She got very sick, and Daddy got mad at her, and now he's moving to a new apartment.”

“I know, darling, so am I,” Daphne announced before Sam could stop her. “I know all about it. I'm going to live there with him.”

“You are?” Annabelle looked horrified and ran to the room they had assigned her. And as soon as she was gone, Daphne unbuttoned the two straps at her shoulders and stepped out of her sundress, and stood in front of Sam completely naked. “She got sick on my dress,” she explained, but he already knew.

“I'm sorry. I think this is a lot for her to stomach all at once,” he said, unaware of the pun, and Daphne smiled.

“Apparently. Don't worry about it.” She kissed him, and he couldn't keep his hands off her, but he knew he had to.

“You'd better put some clothes on. I'll go up to Annabelle.”

“Why don't you let her stew in it for a while, she's going to have to get used to it. It's really not a good idea to mollycoddle children.” Was that how she thought of it? Mollycoddling? Was that why she'd left her son with her ex-husband in England?

“I'll be down in a minute,” he said, and went upstairs, wondering how long the war would go on. But Annabelle was crying when he got there, and she continued to cry until she fell asleep in his arms, and he felt terrible about everything that had happened. He wanted Annabelle and Daphne to love each other. They were both important to him, they were both important relationships in his life, he needed both of them, and he wanted them at least to like each other.

But when Annabelle woke the next day at six a.m., they were still in bed, and Daphne was lying naked in his arms. He had never thought of what might happen in the morning, and he had forgotten to ask her to wear a nightgown. Annabelle wandered into their room without a sound and stood staring at them, her mouth open in horror. Sam was wearing nothing either, and he suggested that Annabelle go downstairs and wait for them, but Daphne was not amused to be woken at that hour, and it put her in a bad mood all morning.

The two “girls” went at each other tooth and nail, and Sam finally took Annabelle to the beach to get away from it, but when he came back to take Daphne to lunch, she was furious that Annabelle had to come with them.

“What do you suggest I do with her for heaven's sake? Leave her home alone?”

“It wouldn't kill her, you know. She's not an infant. I must say, you treat children in America in quite extraordinary ways. They're dreadfully spoiled and the center of everything. It's not even healthy for them. I promise you, she needs to be treated like a child, Sam. She'd be much happier at home, with a nanny or a maid, than dragging around everywhere with you. If her mother wants to do that with her because she has a pathetic little life, then that's fine, but I'm telling you right now, I don't intend to do it. I won't inflict my son on you for more than five days a year, and don't expect me to play nursemaid to yours. I won't have it,” she said petulantly, and for the first time in six months, he was both hurt and disappointed in her, and he wondered if something in her youth had made her so disagreeable about children. It was inconceivable to him that anyone would just dislike them. But when he thought about it, he realized that she had more or less warned him right from the beginning. He only hoped that she'd be willing to change now.

The three of them went out to lunch anyway, but it was a strain. Annabelle never took her eyes off her plate, and didn't eat anything. She had heard everything that Daphne had said, and for the moment she hated her and wanted to go back to her Mommy, and after lunch she said as much to her father. But he explained unhappily that her Mommy was away for the weekend.

He managed to find a sixteen-year-old baby-sitter for that night, by asking the neighbors. And he and Daphne went to the country club at Conscience Point for an evening of dinner and dancing, and she was in better spirits when they got home, and that night he asked her to wear a nightgown. And she laughed at him, and said she didn't have one.

The next day was more of the same, and all of them were relieved when they finally drove back to the city.

Alex was already at home waiting for them, alone, when they arrived. And Daphne waited in the car downstairs while Sam took Annabelle upstairs to her mother.

“Did you have fun?” she asked, beaming, in a pair of blue jeans and a starched white shirt and red espadrilles. And Sam couldn't help noticing how pretty she looked after all these months, with a suntan.

But Annabelle's face was its own story. She raised her eyes to her mother's and they were full of tears, as Sam gently touched his daughter's shoulder.

“We had a few problems of adjustment. I guess I didn't use the best judgment. I brought a friend along, and it wasn't easy for Annabelle.” Or for Daphne. “I'm sorry,” he apologized to both of them, and Alex looked from one to the other in dismay, wondering what had happened.

But Annabelle glanced at Sam and then at Alex and said bluntly, “I hate her.”

“You don't hate anyone,” Alex corrected, glancing at Sam. It must have been a great weekend. She wondered what the English girl had done to get Annabelle's back up. Probably nothing except be there with Sam, Alex suspected fairly. “You have to be nice to Daddy's friends, Annabelle. It's rude to him to be rude to his friends,” she said gently, but Annabelle wasn't so easily silenced.

“She walked around naked all the time. It was disgusting. And she slept with Daddy.” She scowled at both of them and stormed off to her bedroom without saying good-bye to her father, as Alex looked at him, a little surprised at their lack of discretion.

“Maybe you should say something to your friend. If that's true, I don't think it's suitable for her to see that.” And it worried Alex. This was no way to conduct their visits. And she was surprised that Sam had done that.

“I know,” he said miserably. “I'm sorry. The whole thing was a nightmare. It was very awkward.” And then he looked at her ruefully. “They were both impossible, to tell you the truth.” She should have felt sorry for him, but she didn't. It would have been funny, if she hadn't been worried about Daphne parading around naked.

“You're going to have to work something out when she visits you, if you're going to be living with her.” It was the first time Alex had acknowledged it, but Annabelle had opened up the subject. “She's too young for that stuff.”

“I know. And I'm too old. I'll handle it. She didn't see anything she shouldn't have,” he said, looking frazzled. “Oh, and she threw up Friday, by the way.”

“You did have fun, didn't you?” Alex laughed at him, and it reminded him of the old days for a minute. She was laughing at him, and even he had to admit there was a funny side to it. He went to kiss Annabelle then, but she was still angry at him, and refused to say good-bye to him. She was angry at the world these days, and confused about all of it. And then, after a quick kiss in the air, and a wave to his wife, Sam ran back downstairs to Daphne.

“Happy again, my love?” she asked him, moving closer to him in the car, but he was disappointed in the weekend with his daughter, and it still troubled him at times when he saw Alex. They were both haunted by the ghosts of their past life, and trying to forget them.