Faith

So much can change in ten years.

He was prepared for it. All during the flight from New York and the long drive from San Francisco to Huntington Beach, California he thought of how different things would be. It had been ten years since Brian Haner Jr had last been there. A decade was bound to bring changes. There would have been deaths and births. Houses and shops would have changed hands, some might not be there at all.

Not for the first time since Brian had decided to visit his hometown did he feel foolish. After all, it was very likely he wouldn't even be recognized. He'd left a thin, defiant, rebellious teenager in a pair of faded jeans. He was coming back a man who had learned to replace defiance with arrogance and succeed. His frame was broadened, tattoos were covering his arms, and his face had hair, but he still fit nicely into a tailored Armani suit. Ten years had changed him from a wanna-be rockstar into a successful lawyer who had made his mark. However, what ten years hadn't changed was what was inside. He was still looking for his roots, his place in life. That was why he was heading back to Huntington.

The road still twisted and turned along the shoreline. The sun bounced off the ocean's waves. Brian adjusted his dark glasses and slowed down. Then on an impulse, he pulled his car over and parked. When he stepped from the car, his breath exhaled the smoke. He flicked his half-smoked cigarette on the ground before stomping the lit ash out. His skin tingled from the winter's breeze but the cold was nothing compared to the East coast. Brian walked the few feet to the top of the rocks and looked toward his hometown.

He'd been born there, raised there. He learned of grief, happiness, and he'd fallen in love there. Even from the distance he could see her parent's house. The memories flooded his brain but he shook them quickly out. She'd be living somewhere else now, with her husband, with her children. When he discovered that his hands were balled into fists he carefully relaxed them. Channeling emotion was a skill he had turned into an art over the past decade. His feelings for Faith had been a boy's feelings. He was a man now and she was only part of his childhood. He had traveled more than five thousand miles just to prove it. Turning away, he got back into his car and started down the hillside.

A check of his watch showed Brian it was half-past three. He had been traveling for more than seven hours. The smart thing to do was to see if the Valley Inn was still in operation and get a room. A smile played around his mouth as he wondered if Mr. Bedford still ran the place. He could not count the times Bedford had told him he would never amount to anything but trouble. Brian had a law degree and a reputable name in New York to prove differently.

The town had not changed as Brian had anticipated. Thompson's Hardware was still on the corner of Main and the post office still occupied a brick building no bigger than a garage. Children ran along the sidewalk, but whose children? Brian wondered, knowing that any of them might be Faith's. The fury came back and he quickly looked away.

The sign on the Valley Inn had been repainted, but nothing else about the three-story stone building was different. He found himself driving beyond it. There was something else to do first, something he had already known he would have to do. He could have turned at the corner, driven a block and seen the house where he grew up. But he did not. Near the end of Main Street would be a tidy white house, bigger than most of the others with two big bay windows and a wide front porch. Nicholas Monroe had brought his bride there. Perhaps Faith had put up the lace curtains she had always wanted in the windows. Nicholas would have bought her the pretty china tea set she longed for. He would have given her exactly what she had wanted. Brian would have given her a suitcase and a motel room in countless cities. She had made her choice.

After ten long years Brian discovered it was no easier to accept. Still, he forced himself to be calm as he pulled up to the curb. He and Faith had been friends once, lovers briefly. He had had other lovers since, and she had a husband. But he could still remember her as she had looked at eighteen, lovely, soft, eager. She had wanted to go with him, but he wouldn't let her. She had promised to wait, but she didn't. He took a deep breath as he climbed from the car.

Standing on the sidewalk he found himself dealing with fear. He had never felt the stomach-churning fear that he did now as he stood on a narrow sidewalk facing a pristine white house with bushes by the door. He could turn around, he reminded himself. He could drive back to the inn or simply out of town again. There was no need to see her again. She was out of his life. Then he saw the lace curtains at the window and the old resentment stirred, every bit as strong as fear.

As he started down the walk a girl raced around the side of the house just ahead of a well-aimed water balloon. She dived, rolled and evaded. In an instant, she was up again and hurling one of her own.

"Bull's-eye, Jimmy Harding!" with a whoop, she turned to run and barreled into Brian. "Sorry." She looked up and grinned. Brian felt the world spin backward.

She was the spitting image of her mother. The sable hair peeked out of her cap and fell untidily to her shoulders. The small, triangular face was dominated by big blue eyes that seemed to hold jokes all of their own. But it was the smile, the one that said 'isn't this fun?' that caught him by the throat. Shaken, he stepped back while the girl dusted herself off and studied him.

"I've never seen you before."

He slipped his hands into his pockets. But I've seen you, he thought. "No. Do you live here?"

"Yeah, but the shop's around the side." A water balloon landed with a plop at her feet. She lifted a brow in a sophisticated manner. "That's Jimmy," she said in the tone of a woman barely tolerating a suitor. "His aim's lousy. The shop's around the side," she repeated as she bent to get the balloon she dropped when she ran into him. "Just walk right in." She raced off holding a balloon in each hand. Brian figured Jimmy was in for a surprise.

Faith's daughter. He had not asked her name and nearly called her back. It didn't matter, he told himself. He would only be in town for a few days before the next case started back home. Just passing through, cleaning the slate.

He backtracked to walk around the side of the house. Though he could not imagine what sort of shop Nicholas would have, he thought it might be best to see him first. He almost relished it.

The little workshop he had half expected turned out to be a miniature of a Victorian cottage. Two life-size dolls dressed in top hats and bonnets, cloaks and top boots stood outside. Above the door was a fancy hand-painted sign that read Doll House. To the accompaniment of bells, Brian pushed the door open.

"I'll be right with you."

Hearing her voice again was like stepping back and finding no solid ground. But he would deal with it, Brian told himself. He would deal with it because he had to. Slipping off his aviators, he tucked them into his shirt pocket and looked around.

Child-size furniture was set around the room in the manner of a cozy parlor. Dolls of every shape and size and style occupied chairs, stools, shelves, and cabinets. In front of an elf-size fireplace where flames shimmered, sat a grandmother of a doll in lace cap and apron. The illusion was so strong Brian almost expected her to begin rocking.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting."

With a china doll in one hand and a bridal veil in the other, Faith walked through the doorway. "I was right in the middle of...." The veil floated out of her hand as she stopped. It waltzed to the floor with no sound at all. Color rushed away from her face, making the deep-blue eyes nearly violet in contrast. In reaction, or defense, she gripped the doll to her breast. "Brian."