Read Online You Don't Know Me by Susan May Warren - Free Book Online

that.
    And then, she wasn’t sure why, but the words just sort of erupted from her, like she’d been holding them back for years. Like they’d been waiting to ripen and were suddenly ready to harvest. Before the frost came and destroyed them.
    “Would you like to come in and I’ll make you an apple pie?”

    He just meant to explore Annalise’s world and meet the people in her life. Frank didn’t really mean to stay for pie.
    But what was a guy to do? Helen had a laugh about her—the way she rolled out from under that tree, bouncing up as if she were twenty-three.
    Cute little pumpkin-shaped earrings dangling from her ears.
    And the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg drifting from her kitchen as she sang Sinatra while he fixed her front porch step . . . Yes, he liked her.
    It felt good to work with his hands, pry up the broken board, cut a new one, replace it, and while he was at it, patch two more. Helen wouldn’t be falling through her porch anymore, at least not while he was around.
    And when she invited him into her kitchen for a slice of crisp, tangy, warm apple pie à la mode, for a moment his life stopped spinning and settled into a sweet, perfect place.
    He’d been unmoored since Margaret died. But sitting in Helen’skitchen, letting her tell him about how Nathan and Annalise met and fell in love, and about the early years of their marriage, felt like coming home after a long stint at sea.
    “It seemed to be love at first sight. The minute she walked in the door, I knew she was right for Nathan. She looked at him like he was her hero. And she’s treated me like a second mother.”
    Helen set coffee in front of him alongside a carton of milk, then slid back onto her chair. “So sad she had to lose her own family. I’m glad Annalise has you.”
    Frank nodded, ignoring the twinge inside.
    “Nathan says you were in the military? Where?”
    He poured the milk in, stirred it. “All over, really. Mostly stuff I can’t talk about.”
    “Oh, some sort of secret agent?”
    He liked the way she teased him, even if it felt wrong to lead her astray. “Something like that. I was away too many years, unfortunately. My poor wife went for weeks without hearing from me.”
    Her smile dimmed at the mention of his wife, and he saw her glance to his ring finger, so he just said it. “She passed away about eight years ago from cancer.” He ran his thumb over the handle of the coffee mug. “We have one daughter who lives in California.”
    “I’m so sorry, Frank.”
    He lifted a shoulder.
    She seemed as anxious to change the subject. “Annalise has a cousin? Another relative she hasn’t mentioned.”
    Nice, Frank. That was the problem with lies—they were like trying to seal leaks in a submarine. “They haven’t seen each other in years, I’m afraid.” He’d have to alert Annalise to that tidbit.
    “Shame. Nathan has cousins all over the county. The Decker family has been in the area for nearly five generations. My formerhusband’s grandfather came here in the early nineteen hundreds as a trapper, settled down in Deep Haven, married a local Ojibwa girl, and, well, now if you throw a rock, you hit a Decker relation.”
    “A lot of people throwing rocks at the Deckers?”
    He meant it as a joke, but something he’d peg as sadness edged her eyes. She picked at her pie. “Unfortunately, yes. Nathan and I are the black sheep of the family.”
    “I hardly see you as a black sheep, Helen.”
    She looked up and smiled at him, and for a second his world moved—just a little—a feeling he’d nearly forgotten. “You’re sweet. The truth is, I was married thirty years ago, to Dylan Decker. A local boy who wooed me into marrying him and then broke my heart.” She pushed her pie away. “We divorced after thirteen years of marriage—Nathan was twelve. I still remember him standing in the family room, holding a football, watching his daddy drive away. He spent the summer sitting on the steps, waiting for him to