She hung up on the spew of obscenities and, closing her eyes, lowered her head between her knees. The nausea was a greasy sea in her stomach, the sneaky edge of a migraine was creeping closer. She couldn’t stop the trembling. She’d held it off during the phone call, but she couldn’t stop it now.

She stayed just as she was until she could control her breathing again, until the worst threat of sickness receded. Then she rose, took one of her pills to ward off the migraine and added blusher to her pale cheeks. She gathered her purse, Seth’s gifts, a jacket against the chill, and left.

THE DAY HAD been endless. How was a guy supposed to sit through hours and hours of school on his birthday? I mean, he was double ones now, and everything. He was going to get pizza and french fries and chocolate cake and ice cream and probably even presents.

He’d never actually had a birthday present before, Seth mused. Not that he could remember, anyway. He’d probably end up with clothes and shit, but it would still be a present.

If anybody ever showed up.

“What’s taking them so long?” Seth demanded, again.

Determined to be patient, Anna continued to slice potatoes for the homemade fries that Seth had requested as part of his birthday menu. “They’ll be along.”

“It’s almost six. How come I had to come home after school instead of going to the boatyard?”

“Because,” Anna said, and left it at that. “Stop poking into everything, will you?” she added as Seth opened the refrigerator, again. Shut it, again. “You’re going to be stuffing your face soon enough.”

“I’m starving.”

“I’m making the fries right now, aren’t I?”

“I thought Grace was going to make them.”

Steely-eyed, Anna stared at him over her shoulder. “Are you suggesting that I can’t make french fries?”

He was bored and restless enough to be pleased that he’d jabbed her ego. “Well, she makes really good ones.”

“Oh.” She turned completely around. “And I don’t.”

“You do okay. Anyway, we’ll have the pizza.” He nearly pulled it off, but snorted out a chuckle.

“Brat.” Anna made a laughing dive at him. He danced away howling.

“That’s the door, that’s the door. I’ll get it!” He raced off, leaving Anna grinning after him.

But the wicked laughter faded from his eyes when he yanked open the door and saw Sybill on the porch. “Oh. Hi.”

Her heart sank, but she fixed on a polite smile. “Happy birthday.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Watching her cautiously, he opened the door.

“I appreciate you inviting me.” At a loss, she held out both shopping bags. “Are you allowed to have your gifts?”

“Sure, I guess.” Then his eyes widened. “All that?”

She nearly sighed. He sounded so much like Phillip had. “It all sort of goes together.”

“Cool. Hey, it’s Grace.” Hampered by the bags, which he held now, he bumped past her onto the porch.

The joy in his voice, the quick, delighted smile on his face was such a marked contrast from the way he’d looked at her, Sybill’s sinking heart cracked.