Ghost on Black Mountain (34 page)

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Authors: Ann Hite

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Ghost, #Historical, #Family Life

BOOK: Ghost on Black Mountain
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He was going to tell me she had been drinking after all.

“Your daughter is pregnant.”

For one innocent second relief washed through me. “A baby.” That was all. We could work with a baby.

Jack’s back was straight, giving him more height. He held his wife’s elbow and moved down the hall like a brave knight. I looked at the doctor. “What can we do about this situation?”

Fifty-seven

A
re you suggesting what I think, Mrs. Harbor?” The doctor took a step back.

I couldn’t believe it myself, but allowing Iona to carry that baby was unthinkable. “Don’t you see my daughter’s condition? What if this causes some kind of harm?”

The doctor’s Adam’s apple moved up and then down. “What you are suggesting is against the law. I take my medical oath seriously.”

“Not in every case. There must be reasons that allow the procedure.”

“Let’s see what happens with your daughter before we jump into this way of thinking.” My horrible choices reflected in his eyes. He nodded and walked off.

To hell with him. If he knew the truth he would be all too glad to accommodate me. Iona was still. The machines beeped and gurgled.
It’s simple, just tell the truth. For once tell the truth.
I laughed aloud. Once again I was plotting against someone’s life for what I thought was a justifiable reason. I
bent over Iona and whispered in her ear. “You’ve gone and got yourself in a mess. We’re one in the same. I couldn’t save you.”

“She’ll play again.” Harold stood just inside the curtain.

A good wife would have told Harold everything. The time was perfect for clearing the air. But I had to see my mess through to the end alone. No one else deserved to be saddled with it. I looked at him, this man I married for better or worse. What would happen to us if I told him my secret?

“We’ll make it through this together, Annie. We have each other.” Harold took my hand.

I wanted to pull it back, but instead, I sobbed.

My hours at the hospital blurred together. They moved Iona to the intensive care floor. I spent most of my time looking in the window, watching her chest move up and down, her face dead still. The baby growing inside her kept appearing in my mind. When I fell asleep in the chairs lined against the wall, I saw this boy sitting next to my daughter. He had no face. I couldn’t allow any features to develop. This Lonnie, Hobbs’s son with Rose, was my Iona’s half-brother.

Then at the end of the second day, I sat at her bed and took her bandaged hands. “You loved to play your music. I always told you it was fluff, cotton candy fluff. I was wrong, Iona. You need to wake up and hear your mama say she was wrong.” The room with all its whirring sounds was like being inside a bubble away from the world. “I messed up, Iona. Wake up, and I’ll find a way to do right.” I closed my eyes and wondered if I told the truth, would God allow her to live? Movement. I looked at Iona. Her eyelids fluttered and her fingers moved. “Harold!” Again the fingers moved. “Harold!”

“What?” He was standing by the bed.

“Get a nurse.”

Iona’s eyes were open.

“Can you hear me, baby?”

Three blinks and she turned her head in my direction. “What, Mama?”

Harold wept as the nurse rushed by to the bed.

“I love you.” I squeezed her hand.

The nurse buzzed for a doctor. “We’ve been waiting for a couple days on you, young lady.” She smiled at Iona, who gave her a puzzled look.

Iona smiled, squeezed my hand, and closed her eyes.

“Daddy’s here.”

Harold came to stand beside the bed.

“Daddy,” she whispered with her eyes closed.

Whatever happened from this moment forward, we would be united. I didn’t have to ever tell my story. A baby wasn’t so bad. I didn’t know for sure Rose was Rose. She could be anyone. Did I really have to tell any of this?

“Mama, why am I here?”

I looked at Harold. “You had an accident.”

“How?”

“In a car.”

Harold shifted next to me.

“Where’s Lonnie?”

The question hung over the bed. I looked at the nurse.

“Okay, Mama and Daddy. We need the doctor to take a look at Iona. You may talk after that.”

Bless her.

“You were in his car.” Harold spoke in a quiet voice. Damn him for being so honest.

Iona looked at him. “Was he driving?”

“No,” he whispered.

Tears formed in her eyes.

“We have to step out, Harold.” My voice was sharp.

“Did he get hurt, Daddy?”

I looked straight into her eyes. For some reason, I couldn’t allow Harold to answer. “He died from his injuries.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Because of me.”

“No, sweetie, a deer jumped in front of you. You swerved to miss it.”

She cried and I stood by her bed, helpless.

Iona was moved out of ICU and into a regular room. Harold went home to make arrangements to have Mama cremated. We would have a memorial service when Iona could go home.

On her fifth day in the hospital, Iona actually smiled a real smile. Her face transformed. The bandages were taken off her hands. She hadn’t asked about her music. I was thankful for this.

“I dreamed about Lonnie.” Her voice was quiet but not sad.

I looked out the window.

“He was whole, healed.”

Still I didn’t respond.

“See, he had a lot of problems, Mama. He was everything you’ve tried to save me from. I was starting to understand that when this happened.” She reached over to me. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you.”

“You’ve hurt yourself, not me.” I took her hand but my words didn’t sound inviting or caring.

“I want to see Lonnie’s parents. I need to tell them what I remember.”

“That’s too much for you, Iona. Let it go. Let them grieve.”

“It’s my decision,” she said softly.

Something had changed between us. She wasn’t the little girl who needed my guidance.

“We’ll talk to Daddy.”

“I did this morning. He thinks it’s a good idea.”

Anger flashed through me. Who did Harold think he was?

As if we had summoned him, Harold slid through the door. “My girls.”

“I’ve told Mama I’m going to meet with Lonnie’s parents.” She smiled at me. “I need this, Mama. I need to say I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything.” I tucked my trembling hand under my legs.

“I think it’s a fine idea, baby.” Life was so simple for people like Harold. They told the truth and reaped the benefits.

“If you feel it will help you, Iona. You have to move forward. I’m sure this Lonnie wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Harold squeezed my arm. “I’m going to call Mr. and Mrs. Allen.”

I almost argued with him but I smiled instead. When he was gone, I scooted my chair closer to Iona. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Stop saying that. We all have done things that hurt others. I’ve failed you in so many ways.”

“No you haven’t. Mama, you tried to tell me that life can get away from you within a second. I didn’t listen. This happened because of my choices.”

“Iona, we need to talk about choices.”

Harold pushed through the door. He was still handsome, and he didn’t deserve my hidden life. “We’ll see them tonight, and as soon as you get out we’re going there. Mrs. Allen thought you might like to see Lonnie’s grave.”

A horrible shadow passed over my baby’s face. “Did anyone ask Iona if she wanted to go to that place again?” I caught myself before “Black Mountain” slipped out. “Iona, do
you remember that story I used to tell you before bed each night?”

“That was the worst kind of story, so sad.” Harold frowned.

“Where did you get the story, Mama?” She was opening the door for me to walk through and confess.

“I’m not sure. I heard it told when I was young.”

“Did Maw Maw tell you the story?”

“I’m not sure if it’s that old. I don’t know. Maybe she did. Maybe she saw it in her tea leaves.” I laughed.

“When I get out of here, I want to see Maw Maw. I want to ask her about the names.”

For nineteen years I lived with the story in my heart, my fairy-tale ending. “I have to tell you something that I’ve kept from you.” My heart beat so loud I was sure both Harold and Iona could hear.

“Your grandmother passed away.” Harold’s words smoothed out the crazy thought I had of telling the whole truth.

Iona stared at her father and then at me.

“She didn’t even know who she was on most days. A lot of the time she thought she was part of that silly story.” I lied, lied, lied.

“Dead?” Iona’s voice broke.

“She died on the morning of your accident. I tried to find you.” I made the words as easy as I could. “They say she passed away quietly. That’s the best way, or so they say.” I looked at her. “I’d like to make a little noise when I leave this world.”

Iona smiled. “Me too, Mama. I’ll miss her. She kept so much of herself out of view.”

“Your grandmother was a wise woman. I didn’t listen to her enough.”

“I think I’m going to steal your mama for a while.” Harold put his hand on my arm.

Iona smiled. “Okay. Go, Mama. I’ll be right here.”

We walked to the cafeteria side by side. Passion was never in my vocabulary when it came to Harold. He was steady, safe. No, deep lust didn’t factor into our marriage.

“Annie, is there anything you need to tell me?” Harold took a Snickers bar off the rack.

“Not a thing.” I didn’t miss a beat.

“After nineteen years of marriage, I think you can tell me about the past. I know there is something. And honestly I think it has something to do with that story you always told Iona.”

I looked him dead in the eye. “Are you kidding? What would that have to do with anything? I’m tired, Harold. I’ve lost my mother and nearly lost my daughter. I’m sorry I’m not myself.” I fought the fear in my gut.

He handed me an Almond Joy. “Okay. But you can tell me anything. You’re my girl, Annie. Nothing you ever did or will do could change that.”

“That’s good to know.” But I knew he couldn’t possibly forgive what Nellie had done.

Fifty-eight

S
ome parts of a person never leave you. I heard his soft, steady voice in the hall. It was more of a tone than the actual words, more like a melody. My heart fluttered and a giggle sat in my chest. Iona sat propped against her pillow. Harold had gone to make phone calls home.

“They’re here,” Iona whispered.

I nodded. The small tap on the door made me jump anyway. “Come in.” I tried to sound calm.

Rose had her hair pulled back and her face was bare, open, a plate-glass window into her heart. Jack stood tall, holding her together with one hand placed on her shoulder.

“I hope this isn’t too much trouble.”

“It’s no bother, Mr. Allen.” Iona’s face crumpled and tears sprang in her eyes.

Rose moved to my daughter’s side. “We know it was a horrible accident. Deer come out of nowhere. There’s a lot on Black Mountain.”

Jack looked straight at me.

“I should have made him wait,” Iona whispered.

“We all know Lonnie didn’t wait when he wanted something. You did the best you could.” Jack smiled at Iona.

A wild look passed through Rose’s eyes. “But if you had made him wait …”

Jack squeezed her shoulder. “We’ve been through this. There was nothing different to be done.”

“Why did you leave, Iona?” Rose’s voice broke.

I tried not to imagine her young and in Hobbs’s arms. No wonder he wanted her instead of me. She was beautiful.

Iona took a breath and wiped at her tears. “He was leaving whether I went or not. I drove because, well, he had been drinking.”

“He was having such a good time at the party. Why did he want to leave?” Rose took one of Iona’s hands in hers.

Iona looked at me and I nodded as if I had a clue to what she was about to say.

“He saw his real father in the barn.”

“Hobbs. He saw Hobbs?” Rose cut a look at me. Did she see who I was?

My chest tightened. Why couldn’t Harold be there at that very moment? Here stood Rose and me, the women in Hobbs Pritchard’s life, standing in the same room together. I looked at Iona and then I looked at Jack. He stared back with our story written in his expression. He married Rose and took in her son. Harold pushed open the door and for a minute the two men blended together and became one. I looked away and studied my daughter’s face. She was solid, whole, my star to navigate by.

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