Read Angel Song Online

Authors: Sheila Walsh

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Angel Song (33 page)

BOOK: Angel Song
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Ann walked into Nana’s room. “Okay, Beka, what would you tell me?”

Doing her best impersonation of Beka’s deep voice and Midwest accent, Ann said, “Looks pretty good. Not too cluttered. Furniture is not fancy, but it’s appropriate for the house and in pretty good shape.”

Ann smiled at her imaginary partner. “Thanks, Beka, that’s exactly what I thought.”

As she walked from the room, she found herself mumbling in Beka’s voice again. “I’m glad you pulled some of those floral pillows out of storage. It was the right thing to do. The blinds are inappropriate, of course. They’re trying to make this house look like something it’s not.”

Ann stopped walking and shook her head. Hard. She’d heard that stupid comment so many times, she was using it in her own imaginary conversations now.

She picked up her cell and punched in Beka’s number. After their greetings, Ann explained, “I’m about to have an open house here, and I was just doing a walk-through having an imaginary conversation with you, so I thought I’d call and have a real one.”

“Well, I hope I was giving you some good advice.”

“As usual, you were questioning some of my choices, but as usual, I showed you the error of your ways.”

Beka laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“How are things going there?”

Silence. Nothing but a long-drawn-out silence. “Ann, I wasn’t going to tell you until you got back.”

“Tell me what?”

“The Stinson job, it fell through. Margaret laid everyone off. There’s talk that she’s filing for bankruptcy, but I don’t know for sure.”

“That can’t be. What happened? When?”

“After you left, it seemed like that whole deal started to disintegrate. All of a sudden he didn’t like any of our ideas, nothing was quite right. I guess it turns out there was never a signed contract—which blows me away. Margaret was always such a stickler about that. So he’s not financially obligated in any way. Apparently Margaret had ordered a lot of expensive furniture for him, which she can no longer afford to pay for. I think it’s over for her. For all of us.”

Ann dropped into a chair. “What are you going to do?”

Another long pause. “I’d like to stay here, of course, so I’ll look for a job. But in all reality, I’ll likely move back to Wisconsin in the next few months. The cost of living is lower. It’s closer to my family.”

“Oh, Beka, no.”

“It’s all right. We’re going to be all right; we always are. Now”—there was the sound of muffled sniffling—“tell me about the house. Did you get everything done in time?”

The open house seemed so insignificant now. Still, she knew Beka needed her to be strong. “More or less. You know how it is—there’s always something more that could be done. Right now it’s time for me to run a dust mop over the hardwood floors and scrub the bathroom one more time.”

“Make it spotless.”

“I’ll do my best.” Ann somehow forced herself up from the chair. “I’ll call you when I get back next week.”

“We’ll have you over for dinner.”

Eleanor Light arrived, dressed in a white linen suit. “Well, are you ready?”

“I think so.”

Eleanor walked into the house and looked around. “You’ve done an amazing job of getting this place ready, I’ll have to say that. You’ve even managed to provide a homey feel in spite of some of the decorating to the contrary.” She looked at Ann then. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, it just seems to me that maybe you’d be happy if you stayed here. Are you sure you’re ready to sell?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Ah, that’s what people tell themselves, but in truth, you always have a choice.”

“Just exactly what—?”

“You’d better get out of here. People will be coming anytime now. Go on, take the day, spend some time visiting the places you love one last time.”

Somehow Ann had been ordered out of her house and was now sitting her in car wondering what in the world she was going to do. Well, maybe she would take the advice of all concerned and revisit some of her past. She decided to set out on a quest.

Maybe she hadn’t been able to dump her mother’s letter into the ocean, but today she would begin the process of saying good-bye to Charleston. Perhaps the best way to do that was to say good-bye to Sarah and Nana.

It didn’t seem right to visit the graveyard empty-handed, so Ann stopped at a little florist and bought a dozen roses. She knew that there were more appropriate things to place at a grave, but nothing else could sum up the love she felt better than roses.

She drove toward the cemetery, but along the way, she lost her nerve and turned toward St. Johns Island, deciding that perhaps a little detour might give her time to collect her thoughts.

The summer sun and high humidity had already turned the air into a sticky paste by the time Ann pulled into the parking lot of Angel Oak Park. It felt hard to breathe as she walked toward the massive oak, yet its outstretched branches looked as if they were welcoming her to their shelter. She remembered Ethan telling her that the tree had been severely damaged by Hurricane Hugo. Fifteen hundred years of life, then one big storm almost took it out. Now, twenty years later, her untrained eye could see no evidence that there had ever been a storm. It seemed strong and majestic. Completely unstoppable.

In that moment, she realized that was how people saw her. With the strong, often brash, face she put on, no one could know how thrashed she was inside. She was like that traditional home buried in modern trappings—it was all a lie.

Unable to bear any more soul searching, Ann climbed back into the car. She wound her way through the back roads of the Lowcountry until she drove through the wrought-iron gates of the cemetery. Their intricate design was covered by dots of rust and the warp of too many years in the elements. She parked farther from the graves than was necessary. After a deep breath, she walked over to the final resting place of her sister and grandmother.

“Hi. It’s me.” She felt kind of silly talking aloud, but she didn’t let it stop her. “I just came here to tell you good-bye—I’m going to be leaving soon, and I won’t be back.” She paused just long enough to work up her courage. “I need to tell you that I didn’t keep my promise after all. I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked, and it took her a minute to regain control before she continued. “I didn’t become a success like I said. Quite the opposite, in fact. I messed up everything.” She started to cry. “I don’t know what to do. It’s all ruined.”

She sat beside her sister and grandmother, wrapped her arms around her knees, and rocked back and forth. “I wish you were here, Nana. You would know what to do. So would you, Sarah. You both could help me figure this out. All of it, because none of it makes sense to me.” She put her head on her knees.

Time passed, she had no idea how much, but finally the grief inside her began to calm. She began to feel the same peace she felt when Nana would rock her to sleep as a child. She could almost hear her voice. “You know what, Nana? Starting an important business might be great, making it big in New York design would have been so amazing, but not at the price I would have had to pay. That would have been failure of the worst kind. Maybe I did succeed after all, even if I am back at a start-up company working at entry level.”

She thought about the new job, the possibilities it presented her. Another path that could lead her toward success. Then she thought about Beka and Gracie and what they were going through. “But there’s something else I’m supposed to do. If I’m truly going to be a
success
, I’ve got another step to take. That’s what you would tell me, isn’t it?”

Ann stood, only then remembering that she’d left the flowers in the car. She started to walk back to get them but then turned. “You’re not really here, are you? Sarah, I’m going to take those flowers to Tammy, brighten her day a little. I’m sure that’s what you’d want me to do.”

Back in her car, she pulled out her cell phone. Time to take the next step. It was crazy, and it was going to cost everything she had left, but it was the right thing to do. She punched in the number and waited. After Meredith Radke answered, she jumped in.

“Hi, Meredith, it’s Ann Fletcher. Listen, some things beyond my control have changed, and I won’t be able to take that job after all. I think you were right when you said you were looking to diversify. That would be a better business move; we both know it.” She took a breath and looked toward Nana’s grave.
Keep going, you’ve got to see this through
. “I know a very talented designer who is out of work, through no fault of her own. Her name is Beka Simons. Her specialties are traditional and Middle Eastern, and she’s amazing. I think she would be a better fit for you.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that you’ve changed your mind, Ann.” Meredith paused just a minute. “Beka does sound like she could be a good fit. Why don’t you have her call me, and we’ll go from there.”

“You can bet I will.” Ann barely hung up before she pressed her speed dial. “Hey, Beka, it’s me. I think I might have found something perfect for you.”

Ann gave Beka the information she needed but kept the details vague. She didn’t want Beka to connect too many of the dots.

By the time she started back to the house, Ann felt the most amazing sense of release. She was sure it was going to work out for Beka, she and Gracie would be okay.

Ann was jobless once again, with no prospects on the horizon, but she’d done the right thing. Maybe she had succeeded, just a little. She’d just have to remind herself of that when she was back in New York, pounding the pavement in her search for work.

As she drove, Ann wondered what kind of turnout there had been at the open house. The place needed to sell soon; she needed the money.

Ann parked her car in the garage and stepped outside into the late afternoon heat, which made it hard to even move. In the distance, the scream of sirens floated through the air, but it seemed as if they too slowed and bogged in this thick summer humidity. She started across the lawn, choosing a path that led from the shade of one tree to another. By the time she was halfway to Tammy’s back door, the crank of the sirens had grown noticeably louder. That’s when she knew where the sirens were going.

She dropped the flowers from her hand and broke into an all-out run. Without bothering to knock, she flung open the back door and ran inside. “Tammy! Tammy?”

“Back here.” Tammy’s voice came from Keith’s room. Ann skidded to a stop just inside his doorway, already alarmed by the raspy sound of Keith’s breathing. His face looked gray. “What’s happened?”

The sirens grew louder and louder. Tammy nodded toward the door. “Will you show them the way back here?”

“Of course.” Ann raced out into the driveway. The ambulance was still over a block away, but that didn’t stop her from waving her hands frantically and screaming, “Over here! Over here!” The ambulance seemed to move slower. Ann waved her hands all that much harder. “Hurry! You’ve got to hurry!” At last the vehicle pulled into the driveway and the attendants climbed out. “Follow me. Quickly.”

She ran back into the house, down the hallway, and into Keith’s room, then stood back in the far corner out of the way. As she watched the scene, her mind barely registered the sight of the blue jumpsuits, the gurney, or the clipped instructions traded back and forth. She had shriveled up, retreating somewhere deep inside herself where she wouldn’t have to experience this, to feel its hopelessness.

Keith’s gurney was being rushed from the room, and suddenly Tammy was standing directly in front of her. “Meet us at the hospital, okay? And call Ethan, let him know what’s going on. He’ll alert the prayer chain.”

Ann nodded numbly. “Sure. Right.” Then she watched them all disappear. A blast of sirens and a few flashes of light later, she was alone.

Somehow she managed to stand up and stumble back to her car, where she yanked the cell phone from her purse. She pressed Ethan’s name in her contacts list and hit Send. It rang and rang and rang, then finally clicked over to voice mail. “Ethan, it’s me.” What was she supposed to say? There were too many things, much too many. “Keith’s being rushed to the hospital, I don’t know what happened, but he was fighting to breathe. Come as soon as you can. Okay?” It was all she could manage. She pushed the button to disconnect the call and started the car. She was halfway down the driveway when she realized she didn’t know which hospital.

The smart thing to do would be to go back to the house and make some calls, but Ann was well past the point of acting with any intelligence. She drove toward the Medical University Hospital, supposing that would be the most logical place to take a child. Unfortunately, it was rush hour, and according to radio traffic reports, there was a stalled car and an accident somewhere ahead of her. Traffic was backed up almost to a standstill.

It was an hour later when she ran into the main lobby, found a volunteer to help her, and made her way to the waiting area of the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. The waiting room had yellow and white walls and chairs in a few cheerful colors. Several people were inside, some talking in groups, one couple standing in the far corner looking worried, but no sign of Tammy. Ann approached the desk where a woman sat, hair stacked high on her head, smile lines etched around her eyes. “May I help you?” she asked before Ann had fully made it to the desk. Ann supposed that in a place like this, she had learned to respond quickly to the urgency most people felt.

“Yes, I think Keith Litton was just brought here. Can you tell me anything?”

The woman looked at some papers on a clipboard in front of her. “And you are?”

Why should she care? “I’m his neigh—” For some reason Ann stopped before completing the sentence and changed course. “My name is Ann Fletcher.”

She nodded. “Yes, I see your name right here on the family list. They’ve just brought him up. Follow me.” Tammy had put Ann’s name on the family list. Why should things like this continue to surprise her? Ann had no answer as she followed the woman through the double doors.

The PICU was one giant room, with perhaps a dozen alcoves that formed rooms. Ann could see Tammy leaning over a bed in one of the closest rooms. When Tammy looked up and saw her, she extended her left arm to Ann while she continued to hold Keith’s hand with her right.

BOOK: Angel Song
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ads

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