SPOTLIGHT (10 page)

            Alone now, Abby turned to the bag Aaron had brought for her. She was surprised it had occurred to him to bring it and she surmised it must have been Noelle's idea. Inside were a few articles of clothing and she riffled through them. Aaron had obviously grabbed the first pile of clothing he'd come across. She searched through it trying to find a sweater to combat the ever-present chill she felt.

            Abby found the sweater at the very bottom. Moving her arm gingerly she tugged it out but something came with it. She saw a flash of steel blue and knew at once what she was looking at.

            It was William's tie, the one she had cried all over when she had finally opened up to him about Angelica and all the things that had held her back her entire life.

            “I told him everything, but he already knew,” she said softly to herself, the realization slowly dawning on her.

            Abby had meant to have the tie dry cleaned. She had crumpled it, wringing it in her hands as she spoke to William honestly about her grief. She had never told anyone the things she had told William about Angelica. She had never admitted her jealousy and her guilt even to herself. William had listened and he had understood. He had understood far more than she knew at the time. Despite all he knew and despite his long held feelings for Angelica, he had listened to Abby's sobs and he had forgiven her.

            The ice blue tie was the exact color of William's eyes except in the places where it had been stained by Abby's tears. Now she added a few more.

Chapter Twelve

           
Abby was avoiding William. She had been released from the hospital that morning with strict orders from the doctors to stay in bed and catch up on some much needed rest so she would not suffer a relapse.

            She took a taxi home and tried not to let the stress get to her as they took tight turns and cut between the other cars. She took the empty elevator up to her apartment. Apparently Len finally had reason to make sure it was in proper working order. Abby was glad. The thought of climbing all those stairs was daunting when she still felt tired all over. Besides, she wasn't sure she could handle looking down the long narrow steps and realizing what might have happened to her if William hadn't caught her before she fell.

            Abby was guiltily relieved when she saw that the eighth floor hallway was empty. Half of her had expected to find a yellow sticky note stuck onto her door but there was nothing there when she looked. She felt a deep pang of regret at that and at the silence that came from behind the shut door of William's apartment. No Surprise Symphony today.

            Inside, Abby curled up on her floral couch, suddenly feeling that the bedroom was just too far of a trip for her to make. She sat there for hours, thinking about all the things she had been trying so hard not to think about. At some point she must have dozed off because a knocking sound woke her up from a dreamless sleep.

            The knocking was coming from the far wall, she realized. It came again, three soft taps against the wall her apartment shared with William's.

            Abby got up from the couch slowly. She felt as though her limbs were moving like they were underwater, too heavy and too slow. She reached the wall, pressing her warm head against the cool surface. She liked the thought that William was so close. He was always close, always there when she needed him. Abby knocked back, three soft taps in quick succession.

            The reply came quickly. Two soft knocks responded to her from the other side of the wall.   Abby mimicked the knock, louder now. Then silence. Abby stayed pressed up against the wall. She missed him, she realized. She missed him very much.

            The next knock came from the door. Abby crossed the room as quickly as she could. She didn't want to give herself a chance to second guess the decision.

            William stood at the door looking hopeful. In one hand he held a thermos, in the other a stack of papers.

            “She told you about our knock,” Abby blurted out.

            “Yes,” William said.

            It was something they had done as children. If she and Angie were ever in adjoining rooms anywhere in the house they'd knock on the wall to each other. At night they'd knock on the wood of their headboards from opposite sides of the room. It was their unspoken way of communicating with each other, their way of saying they were together even if they were apart.

            Abby didn't say anything. She only stepped out of the way of the door so William could enter. He hesitated a moment before following her in, kicking the door shut with his foot. Abby sat back down in the exact same spot on the couch that she had vacated. She drew her knees up tightly to her chest and regarded William. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room but his expression was determined.

            “How are you feeling?”

            “I'm okay, tired I guess,” she said softly.

            “Of course,” William said even softer. He paused for a long while, just looking down at her, his eyes searching. It reminded Abby of the way he had looked at her the first time they met. Well the first time they had met again. She suddenly remembered the note he left her at the Home Sweet.
 

            'I am happy our paths keep crossing like this. Maybe we can meet again soon?'
Abby remembered
. In his own way he was telling me. I just never put it together.

           
“Thank you for saving me,” Abby said finally cutting into the silence. “I know I sound like a broken record.”

            “You're welcome,” William smiled that smile she loved to see, but all at once it faded from his face to be marred by a deep frown.

            “What's the matter?” Abby asked him, knowing there were so many things he must have been thinking of.

            “When I turned the corner to the stairs I saw you standing there. You started to fall, just started crumpling like a little doll. I was so sure you were going to go down all those stairs. My heart stopped. Everything stopped. I just reached out and prayed.”

            William's voice broke as he spoke and Abby wondered if he was imagining the other twin, the one he hadn't been there to save.

            He cleared his throat and held up the thermos in his hand.

            “Soup,” he explained. “My grandmother's special recipe. It heals all.”

            Abby hadn't realized she was hungry until just then. How long had she sat on the couch thinking and not moving? Most of the day was gone, outside the sky was turning dark.

            William set down the stack of papers he held on the coffee table. Without a word he walked the short distance into her kitchen. Abby eyed the worn stack but didn't ask about them. William returned a moment later with a bowl and a spoon.

            “Careful, it’s hot,” he said, handing them to her.

            She tasted the soup gingerly, not at all convinced of William's ability to cook. It resembled chicken noodle soup but the smell suggested some spicier ingredients. It was very good and the taste sparked a memory.

            “I've had this before,” Abby realized.

            William nodded. “My grandmother would make it whenever she heard any kid in the neighborhood was sick. She'd just show up on their door step with a big old thermos. You don't find neighbors like that in New York.”

            Abby smiled at him. “Except in this case.”

            “Yes,” he agreed. “Except in our very unusual case.”

            While she ate, they stay in companionable silence but the air was heavy with all they needed to discuss. Finally William sat forward on the couch and scooped up the papers. They were letters, Abby realized upon closer inspection. She recognized at once the large messy handwriting even though she hadn't seen it in so long. Abby and Angie had strikingly similar styles of writing but Angie's strokes were always bigger, more embellished.

            “You kept her letters,” Abby said.

            “I did. All of them. I kept your notes too.”

            Abby wasn't sure how that information was supposed to make her feel. William shuffled through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He handed her the weathered page but Abby was reluctant to reach out and take it.

            “Do you really think I want to read my sister’s old love letters to you?” She said surprising even herself with how venomous the question sounded as it left her lips.

            But William would not be deterred. He held the letter out until she finally took it.

            The letter began with the usual gushing comments of a teenage girl. The first several paragraphs were taken up by declarations of affection and complaints about how they were unfairly being kept apart. Abby noted the date was about twelve years back.

            “What's the point of this?” Abby asked, feeling tears choking her throat. She had stopped reading after a particularly intimate line where Angie had declared her never-ending love for William. The entire margin was filled up with little scribbled hearts in pink ink and Angie had even written her first name with William's last name over and over in one corner.

            “Please keep reading Abby,” William instructed solemnly.

            Abby didn't want to but she did. She flipped over the page seeing that the other side of the lined paper had been used up too. Angelica really did tell William everything, Abby realized, even down to what she had eaten for dinner that day.

            Abby was not overly surprised when she came to a paragraph with her own name in it. But she was surprised by what it said. The whole rest of the letter was about Abby it seemed.

            “I wish I had my sister's confidence,” Abby read aloud. “She never doubts or questions the things she should do. Abby is strong and dutiful when I am weak. She is determined and her determination is going to take her farther than I'll ever get.”

            Abby had to put down the letter, lest she mark it up with tears. Her hands were shaking and William took them in his to still them.

            “You're mentioned in every one of those letters there,” William said gesturing to the pile. “Your sister loved you. She idolized you, the way you idolize her. Sometimes she's jealous of you, other times she's in awe of you. But it all comes down to the same thing. She loved you. And I love you because she did.”

            Abby stared at the pile through her misty eyes, unsure of what to say.

            “I should have told you from the beginning,” William continued in her silence. “I am so sorry that I didn't. I only wanted to see you happy. You don't have to forgive me or stay with me or even see me ever again after tonight. Just know that your sister believed in you right up until the day she passed.”

            He picked up another letter. Abby looked at the date and knew at once it must have been the last one William had received. It was dated two days before the day of Angelica’s accident.

            “I just wanted her to forgive me,” Abby said, looking at the letter but not reading it.

            “You don't need to be forgiven. You didn't do anything wrong,” William assured her. “Angelica wants you to succeed. To do what she never had a chance to. Be you. That's all you owe anyone.”

            William stood. He walked towards the door.

            “Where are you going?” Abby called out to him.

            “I only came to make sure you ate and to give you the letters. I didn't think you wanted me here anymore.” He didn't turn towards her as he spoke; instead he looked at the door.

            “I want you here,” Abby said in earnest. “I want you to stay beside me always.”

            “You do?” He turned.

            “I do. Please, just sit with me while I read?” Abby patted the spot beside her on the couch.

            William crossed the short space in two quick strides. He sat down next to her but too far away. She pulled him closer.

            “One more thing,” Abby said. “Tell me you love me again. I took it for granted when you said it the last time.”

            “I love you Abby Dawes,” William said. He reached out his hand and tucked the unruly hair behind her ear. It was the little curl of hair that never grew long enough to reach her ear. It stuck out madly when she woke up in the morning. Angie had never had that problem, Abby knew.