Purposely she avoided Brian at lunchtime. Charity took his meal in to him and returned with a worried frown. "Didn't so much as touch it. His favorite soup, mind you."

Alone at the kitchen table, Anna released a broken sigh.

"And you're no better," Charity accused. "You've done nothing more than rearrange the food on your plate. What's going on around here?"

"I guess it's an off day. Everyone's entitled to those now and then."

"Off day?" Charity laughed. "The air around here feels like an electrical storm passed through. And Mr. Littrell and his son fighting? I don't know when that's happened." She wiped a hand across her brow, her look narrow with question. "And you look like you've lost your best friend."

Anna gave the woman a weak smile. "You're right," she said with determination. "I need a change of pace. Don't fix dinner for me tonight. I"m going out."

"I'd say it's about time." Charity nodded approvingly. "Pretty young thing like you should be dancing every night."

Anna laughed. Young, she couldn't deny, but pretty was something else again.

She wouldn't be able to avoid Brian forever, but she gladly relinquished her duties that afternoon.

Without explanation, Dennis seemed to know she needed the break. When she took part of the day off to go shopping, no one questioned her. At the time she was hired, the Littrells had told her to set her own hours.

Charity was busy in the kitchen peeling apples when Anna returned.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"It was nice," Anna admitted, and handed the woman a long-stemmed rose. "This is for you."

"Anna." She took the flower and sniffed it appreciatively. "What are you doing buying me flowers?"

"Well, actually, I didn't buy it," Anna admitted grudgingly. "I picked it from the bush outside.

Charity laughed and gave her a spontaneous hug. "I knew the minute I saw you what a dear girl you are."

Anna sat on the countertop, dangling her feet over the edge and talking to Charity for several minutes. She had the impression Charity wouldn't allow many the privilege of invading her home territory so freely.

The sky was pained a bold shade of pink, and Anna paused to admire the vibrant color as she slipped a full-length short-sleeved housecoat over her head.

How could the night be so beautiful when the day had been so ugly? Anna mused. Without thought, she wandered onto the balcony. The palms of her hands rested against the painted railing.

"Lovely, isn't it?'

Anna froze.

"Sometimes when I sit here and stare into the sunset, I can almost forget." The whispered words were spoken so softly that Anna had to strain to hear.

The sound of Brian's chair told her he was coming toward her. She didn't move.

A finger traced the pattern of the ugly bruise on her arm. "Did I do that?"

"Yes," she answered without turning.

"Dear Lord," he muttered, his voice suddenly thick. "You must hate me."

"No," she replied softly, and turned to face him. "I don't."

Again he ran his index finger along the bruise. His touch was gentle, almost a caress, as if he wanted to blot out the pain he had caused.

"I'm going out for a while tonight," she announced.

He stiffened and dropped his hand. "A date?"

"No." She shook her head. "Just a movie. I"m going alone."

His hands rolled the chair back a couple of feet, then swivelled it around, presenting her a view of his back. "Have a good time, Anna."

A frown drove creases into her brow. "Thank you." He hesitated a second before wheeling into his room.

Anna watched him go. Brian regretted the incident this morning with his father and later with her in the pool. He was a man driven to limits of his endurance. Mentally, Anna pictured him standing at a crossroads. He would either choose life or a living death. Unconsciously she brushed the hair off her forehead, as a smile played over her face. Interestingly, she had viewed him standing, and not in a wheelchair.

The show was a light comedy that made her laugh, and heaven knew she was in the mood to smile.

On the way down the coast highway, Anna pulled off at a fast-food restaurant. She hadn't much paid attention to the kind of food until she stepped out of the car. Fish. The tantalizing aroma of deep-fried fish and crisp potatoes filled the air.

"Can I help you?" A teenager leaned halfway out the order window.

"Yes." Anna's eyes didn't leave the menu that was painted in bold-faced letters over the grill. "I'd like a double order of fish-and-chips. And a Pepsi."

"Will that be all?"

"No, make that two orders," she added impulsively.

"To go?"

"Pardon?" Anna's puzzled gaze found the girl's.

"Do you want to eat here or take out?" She asked in an impatient breath.

"Take out."

Even as she paid for the meal, Anna wondered what had possessed her to do anything so foolish. No use lying to herself -- she'd bought the second fish order for Brian.

The lights to his room weren't visible from the front of the house. Anna carried the grease-stained white sack into her bedroom and immediately went out onto the balcony.

Tentatively she knocked on the sliding-glass door and opened it to just a crack.

Silence.

"Are you awake?" She whispered the question not wanting to disturb him if he happened to be asleep. Her eyes adjusted to the dim interior and searched the room. He sat in the corner, his chin propped up by his fist.

"How was the movie?"

"Great."

His chuckle was fulled with quiet humor. "Why are we whispering?"

"I don't know." She laughed and slid open the door. "I didn't have dinner, so I stopped off at a fish-and-chips place up the road."

"Not Mobey Jake's?"

"I didn't notice the name, but it had a neon whale flashing off and on."

"That's the one. The food's terrific."

"I brought you an order back too."

An uncomfortable pause followed her announcement. "Isn't that fraternizing with the enemy?"

"Could be," she agreed, with a secret smile. "But my mother once told me I'd catch a lot more flies with honey than vinegar. But then, my mother never met you."