Angel Song (21 page)

“Yup, Angel Oak.” He set out lunch on one of the picnic tables. “Your pictures this morning got me thinking about it. That one of the angel up in the tree that looked almost like clouds. They used to say that this tree got its name because it looked like an angel.”

“Don’t know that I see it.” Ann looked up through the maze of limbs. “I suppose it does remind me a little of some of Keith’s drawings of angels. I used to feel safe here.”

“Truth is, it was named after the people who used to own the place. Their last name was Angel.” He took a bite of his sandwich, then looked at her. “That may be the true story, but to be perfectly honest, I like the other story better.”

Ann looked up into the massive limbs over her head. She could see wispy clouds in the sky above. A gust of wind picked up a napkin, flipped it over, then fluttered it across the ground. In a movement born purely of instinct, Ann stamped it down with her foot, holding it in place. The leaves above them flapped in the breeze, doing a spontaneous kind of dance. The smaller, uppermost limbs swayed in time with the rushing sound of the wind. It sounded like music.

Almost.

“I like the other story better too,” she said in a quiet voice. Later that afternoon Ethan and Ann walked up the driveway toward her old house. A slight breeze had cooled the air just enough to temper the warm sun shining through the wispy clouds.
Almost perfect
.

“You want to come in for a while?” She walked a little closer, close enough that their arms brushed. Just that morning, those arms had felt so good wrapped around her as she’d cried, so secure. How long had it been since she’d felt so utterly safe? She craved that peace again.

“I . . .” He stopped walking and turned to face her. He put his left hand against her cheek and moved a loose lock of her hair. “I really . . .”

He closed his eyes tight. For the space of a few seconds, he didn’t move. He hardly seemed to breathe. Then his eyes opened.

“I can’t.” He backed up three steps. “I’ve got some things I’ve got to do.”

“Okay.”

“And tomorrow’s a really busy day at work. I probably won’t make it by. I’ll come move the furniture back later in the week, though, okay? I’ll try to get it all set back up and everything, so it will be ready next time you come back, whenever that is. I’ll have things together then.” He started walking quickly back toward his truck. “I’ll see you next time. Have a good trip.” He sort of waved as he jumped back into his truck.

“Alrighty then.” Ann chuckled under her breath, but a stinging pain burned in her chest. Ethan had returned to run-on sentences and gone into all-out escape mode. Was it nerves? Or rejection?

Chapter 23

“Help. Annie. Please.
”

Ann ran toward Sarah, her arms outstretched. “Sarah, I’m right here.
I’ll help you.
”

“You can’t go back there.” The bouncer-nurse blocked Ann’s way. When
Ann looked over her shoulder, she saw Sarah’s gurney being pulled away from
her. One of the nurses looked up at her and smiled—the face was so serene that
it almost glowed
.

That’s when Ann heard the music
.

She jerked awake, gulping for breath, but the music was still there. She shook her head to wake herself up, even though she knew she was awake. “You are not real; this is not real!” She pulled her pillow over her head. “I refuse to give in to this. You are nothing—nothing but my imagination.” Slowly, one note at a time, the music faded into the background until it disappeared altogether.

Wow. Maybe she could control this after all. Yes, of course she could. Time and determination were the only things needed here.

It was a good thing that today was Monday and Ethan had a full day of work. Every time he came around, she seemed to lose her focus on what she needed to do, and it was becoming painfully obvious that what she needed to do was to get out of here. And stay out. After his hasty departure yesterday, she wondered if maybe he thought so too.

Ann put on her work clothes and added the final coat of polyurethane to each bedroom’s floor. The manufacturer recommended that furniture not be replaced for several days, and the rugs for a full week. Well, that wasn’t a problem. She didn’t plan to be back anytime soon. She needed to return to New York and get her career back on the fast track. She was even looking forward to seeing Patrick Stinson. So what if he played the field a lot? She could still go out with him and enjoy herself, right? There was something freeing about that kind of a no-strings-attached, living-for-the-moment lifestyle. It was fun. It was exciting. Why even bother looking for something different?

By lunchtime, she was inside a wholesale window treatment store that specialized in modern. That’s what the house needed, some modernizing. In fact, Ann had also decided to find a place where she could rent some furniture for the open house, after she sold most of what was currently in there. Now was the time to get rid of the old and fill up that space with something new.

After she got back to the house, she was unloading the boxes of blinds from her car just as Tammy and Keith came walking across the lawn. Those two had the uncanny ability of showing up at the most inconvenient times. “Hey, Ann, I was wondering if you could find it in your heart to be my mannequin again sometime today. I know you’re really busy, but I’ve got one more little hem to finish up and it’s such a blessing to have a live model.”

“I don’t have—”

“And while you’re there, I’ll show you my new elephant. She’s beautiful.” Keith grinned at her.

In spite of her best intentions to send them away quickly, Ann couldn’t help but ask Tammy the question. “His elephant?”

“He got a postcard from Danielle today. She’s somewhere in Kenya, I think.”

Ann tried to reconcile the Danielle she’d seen—setting tables, serving muffins and Krispy Kremes, and bossing everyone around—with a person who could spend months in Africa. Somehow she couldn’t quite do it.

“I’ll draw a picture for you too.” Keith had come beside her, smiling like it was Christmas morning.

Ann took one look at Keith’s innocent face, thought of all he lived with on a daily basis, and the excuse died somewhere in her throat. She turned toward Tammy and pretended to fan herself while batting her eyes. “Li’l ol’ me? Be a model for you? Why, I never heard anything so darlin’.”

Tammy burst out laughing. “Sarah was right about you—you are a riot.” She looked at the boxes in Ann’s hand. “Let us help you carry these things in.”

“That’s okay, I’ve got it.”

“I’ll help you, Annie.” Keith had picked up a long carton and was hauling it toward the door before Ann could stop him.

“Really, it’s okay, I can get it.”

Tammy reached into the trunk. “Of course you can, but so can we. Remember, Keith, we’re supposed to call her Ann.”

“Right. Sorry, Annie, I forgot.”

“It’s okay.”

Tammy lifted a couple of boxes and started toward the house. “What’s in here?”

“Some blinds for the windows.”

“Blinds? Oh, Ann, I wish I would have known you were thinking about doing this. I would have been happy to make some curtains for you.”

A picture flashed through Ann’s mind of petunias and paisley, and varying shades of pink, yellow, and purple. “Oh, you can’t do everything for me, Tammy. Besides, I wanted to add a little of my own touch to the place.”

“Your own touch, really? Are you thinking about staying, then?” There was no mistaking the hope in her voice.

“No, Manhattan is my home. I’m just trying to spruce things up a little bit so the place will be ready when the time comes to list it.”

By then, they had entered the house. Since the bedroom furniture was squashed into the living room, there was very little open floor space. “Just set the boxes anywhere you can find a spot. I think I’ll go ahead and try this one over the kitchen sink, just to get an idea of how it will look.”

“Oh good, I’d love to see what you picked out, but aren’t you going to repaint in here? Shouldn’t you wait until after that?”

“Yeah, I’m not actually going to hang it, just hold it up and make certain I like it.”

When she removed the semi-sheer, white, tone-on-tone roller shade from the box, she heard Tammy gasp. She didn’t turn but went ahead and held it up to the window. She pulled the shade down and admired the nice, clean lines against the window. Much better than all that lacy stuff. “What do you think?”

“They’re . . . nice.” Tammy’s face belied the truth, but she wouldn’t say anything. Ann knew she wouldn’t. “Well, are you ready to come be my southern belle for a few minutes?”

Why had she let Keith’s sweetness guilt her into agreeing to this? Best to get it over with. “Sure, let’s go.”

Keith was sitting at the kitchen table, his chin in his hand. After a big yawn, he said, “They look real pretty, Annie. I like ’em.”

That’s why. How could anyone stand against that?
Before she could think better of it, she bent down and hugged him. “It sure is good to have you around here, Keith. I don’t know how I would have carried those things in by myself.”

He smiled and hugged her back. “I love you, Annie.”

In spite of every instinct inside her, she kissed him on the top of the head. “Me too.” It was as close as she could come to saying the words.

Tammy tried to keep a straight face when she looked up at Annie wearing the cream-colored, lace-lined creation. For the most part, she had to keep her focus on the hem to accomplish this. If she looked up for very long, she started to get tickled.

“Who uses all these dresses?” The tone of Annie’s voice was as funny as her expression.

“These are actually going to be sold at an auction they’re having downtown to raise money for the historic foundation.”

“It’s Wiggle time. You like the Wiggles, Annie?” Keith was standing by the television, where he’d just inserted a tape into the VCR, pointing excitedly at the four men in black pants and brightly colored shirts.

“Uh . . . I . . .” Ann looked at Tammy.

“They’re the Fab Four of the preschool set.” She nodded toward Keith. “And Keith.”

Keith had extended both pointer fingers and was moving his hands in rapid circles. “It’s Wiggle time,” he said again, bouncing in dysrhythmic time with the music. “You like them, right, Annie?”

Ann nodded. “Now that I know who they are, I sure do.” She giggled as she turned her attention back to Tammy and whispered, “Guess I know what I’m adding to my iPod next.”

“Sure you are. Now hold still.”

“So people pay money for one of these dresses. Why? It’s not like you can wear them anywhere.”

“Oh, there are the occasional historic balls, and of course Halloween.”

“Somehow I’m having trouble seeing myself at a Halloween party in Manhattan dressed like this. Unless, of course, I was supposed to be Scarlett O’Hara. I could probably do that. I’ve always kind of admired her.”

“You
admire
Scarlett? I hope you’re kidding.”

“I most certainly am not. I suppose it’s because she’s such a strong woman. Life dealt her a few bad hands, and she picked herself up and kept going. Saved the family plantation in the process. A woman who knew how to get things done—she would make it big in New York.”

“I’m glad I don’t live in New York, then.” Tammy pushed the next pin into place before continuing. “Think of how many people she hurt along the way.”

Ann shrugged, which pulled the hem from Tammy’s hand. “Most of them would have hurt her in the long run; she just beat them to the punch.”

Wow. How to respond to that?
God, give me some right words
here. This poor doll is all broken up inside, but I don’t know how to help her
without offending her
.

“How much do these sell for?”

“Depends on what kind of mood the bidders are in, I guess. They usually go for a few hundred dollars, give or take. The highest one I know of fetched just over a thousand.”

“You’ve got to do the monkey.” Keith’s singing was loud and off key. “Do the monkey.”

“Darling, you’re being just a little loud. Didn’t you promise to color a picture for Ann?”

“Oh right. Sorry.” He sat back down and started coloring but continued to sing a little lower than before.

“A thousand dollars?” Annie whistled. “Who’d have thought?

You know, I don’t get why people like to dress up like the old days anyway. It’s like they’re trying to be something they’re not.”

“You’re one to talk.” The words slipped out, and Tammy immediately wished she could take them back. Her mouth was full of pins, and Keith was still singing; maybe Ann didn’t hear it. She continued her work without even looking up.

“What do you mean?”

Well, the words were out there now—may as well spit the rest of them out, she supposed. She took the pins from her mouth and laid them on the table. “Ann, you know I love you to pieces, but the truth is, you’re trying harder than anyone I know to pretend you’re not who you are. You’re running from yourself as fast as you can, but it’s still catching up with you.” She spoke in a pleading voice, begging Annie to see the truth for what it was.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Take those blinds, for instance. They might look just right in a high-rise New York apartment complex, but in your grandmother’s old house, they look like you’re trying to pretend it’s something that it’s not. It doesn’t work for the house, and it doesn’t work for people either.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.” Ann’s voice was loud enough to cause Keith to look up from his coloring.

“When it comes to the decorating, I suppose you might be right.” Tammy gestured around the living room and smiled. “In fact, I’m sure of it. But when it comes to you, I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Honey, I wish you’d slow down. Quit running long enough to acknowledge that you’ve got some pretty big hurts, and give God the chance to take care of them for you.”

Keith stood up and walked over to them. “The angels will help. Like they do me.”

“Do your angels make you feel better, Keith?” Ann looked annoyed, but she seemed relieved for the change in conversation.