Angel Song

by Sheila Walsh

  “I’ll stay with you.” Tammy put her arm around Ann’s shoulder.

  “Me too,” Keith said and squeezed himself between the two women, one arm around each. “I’m staying too.”

  Ann took a deep breath, doing her best to keep her voice gentle, although it took great effort. She didn’t want to upset Keith, who had cried openly and loudly throughout the funeral and the graveside service. Half of her had wanted to tell Tammy to take him away; the other half envied the lack of restraint. As for her, she willed herself to hold it together—at least until tonight when she was alone. “I’d really like a few minutes alone with her.”

  “Oh, of course you would, honey. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that. I’ll just go back to the house and help get the meal set up. I’ll see you there.”

  “You want me to stay with you, Annie?” Keith looked up at Ann, his eyes red and puffy. “I’ll be real quiet if you want me to.”

  “Keith, honey, we’ll see Annie at the house. Right now she needs some time to herself.”

  “But what if she needs me?” Keith’s voice gained volume as his agitation grew. “She might need me. I can’t leave her.”

  Ann saw that another wave of hysterics was coming on, and she wanted Keith away from her before it hit full force. She leaned forward so that she was almost eye to eye with him. “It’s okay, Keith. I’ll be right there. I just want to talk to Sarah one last time. You go and help your mother now, okay?” She hoped her voice sounded reassuring rather than agitated.

  Keith nodded his head and wiped his hand beneath his glasses. “Okay. Promise you’ll call if you need me.”

  “Count on it.” Ann turned away from them and took a step toward Sarah’s grave. “I’ll be just a few minutes behind you.”

  “Okay. Come on, Keith.”

  “Bye, Annie. Bye-bye. Bye.”

  “Good-bye.” In spite of herself, Ann turned. Tammy was holding Keith’s hand and all but pulling him toward the car. Thank goodness!

  Keith walked with his head turned toward Ann, and he continued to watch her even as he climbed into the car. Just as Tammy was closing the door, Keith sprang up and began waving wildly at Ann. Even from a distance, Ann could see the excitement in his huge smile. “The angels are here, they’re with you now. You’ll be okay. Bye, Annie. You okay.” He sat back into his seat, readjusted his glasses, and continued waving as the car pulled from the drive.

  “Angels. Right.” As the sound of the tires crunching against the gravel faded, Ann focused on reality. She turned her attention back to the casket, hanging by dark blue straps over the open grave. The funeral director stood several yards away. He looked at her, his face solemn. “You can have a few minutes if you’d like. I’ll just go make a quick call.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ann was wearing the same sleeveless black dress that she’d planned to wear to Sarah’s graduation. It felt so wrong to be wearing it now, for this. “Oh, Say-say.” Ann spoke the nickname she’d not used in fifteen years. Just the sound of it brought on a fresh wave of grief. She trailed her fingers across the steel of Sarah’s casket, surprised by the coolness on such a hot and humid day. “This was supposed to be such a happy time. Your master’s degree, what a great accomplishment. How many families would you have helped? How many children might you have saved from a lifetime of abuse? All that study, all that compassion. Wasted.

  “I know you believe in God, and I hope for your sake that He’s real and you’re in heaven right now. But how could He be? If He were real, wouldn’t He have let you do all your good works? Everyone who’s ever met you talked about how perfect you were. Surely an all-powerful Being wouldn’t have failed to notice that. Why would He have taken you and left someone like me here?”

  Ann remembered Keith’s insistence that the angels were here now. With her. Watching at this very minute. She shuddered as she looked at her grandmother’s headstone beside the hole in the ground that would soon be Sarah’s home. “Nana believed too, and look what it got her: a worthless daughter, a painful death, and her only decent grandchild killed in a car wreck the day before she graduated. There’s no power in that kind of belief. The only person I can count on is me, and I’m going to achieve my dreams my own way.”

  Her dreams. Her own way. Everything inside her consolidated in this moment, and with absolute clarity, she saw what needed to be done.

  “Sarah, Nana, you were the only ones who ever believed in me, and I want to thank you for that. I know I haven’t always earned that faith, but that’s about to change. I promise you both right now that I will do my utmost to live up to all that you thought I could be, to succeed in every possible way.” She looked toward Nana’s headstone. “Something you never got the chance to do because you were taking care of us.” Then at Sarah’s casket. “You were so close, so close. I promise the both of you that I will make the most of my life. Starting right now.”

  The funeral director walked toward her. “Ma’am, we really need to get started now, if you don’t mind.”

  She kissed her fingertips, then pressed them against the casket. “Good-bye, Say-say. I love you.” Ann backed away and watched them lower her sister slowly into the ground. The heavenly doves adorning the corners of the casket had seemed so garish just days ago but now felt comforting as the last earthly view of Sarah she would ever have. She was glad then that she’d let Tammy talk her into them. Tammy had been right. They were what Sarah would have wanted.

  Ann walked back to her rental car, dreading what lay ahead. She was quite certain that if she had to hear one more “She’s with the Lord,” “She’s in heaven,” or “She’s so happy now,” she would lose her mind completely. She knew people meant well, and she didn’t want to dishonor Sarah by being rude. So she had begun reciting the lyrics of every Beatles song she could remember, trying to keep her mind occupied. She could say, “Thank you so much for coming,” while thinking about “Yellow Submarine” and “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” In attendance, yet not present. This was a talent she’d perfected over the years.

  She sat in the car and locked the door, not yet bothering to put the key in the ignition. With the taste of the promise she’d made to her grandmother and sister still fresh on her lips, she opened her purse and pulled out the business card she’d placed there just a few days ago. She dialed the number. “This is Ann Fletcher. Is Mr. Stinson available, please?”

  Ethan’s past few nights had been plagued with nightmares. Annie was screaming for help, drowning in choppy surf, and no one else seemed to hear her at all. It was up to him to reach her, but his arms and legs felt so heavy. Too heavy. He just couldn’t make it. The expression on her face before she went under was always the same. Hollow. Empty. Alone.

  Now, as he looked at all the cars lining the street, listened to the quiet murmurs of the dozens of people inside the house, he realized he had seen the same expression on her face during the funeral today. As far as he could tell, no other family members had been at the funeral, no one from New York had come down, and no other friends had come to be with her. Did she have no one? Why did he feel like he was the only one who could help her?

  He made an excuse to wander outside, and more or less loitered there until he saw her car pull up in the driveway. He wanted to do something to help. But what?

  He walked over to the garage and waited for her to gather her things and climb out of the car. What could he possibly say that would mean anything to her?

  “Hey,” he said.

  She looked surprised to see him, even though she’d driven right past him. “Hey.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Well, I’m not going to ask how you’re doing, because that’s a stupid question, but I just wanted to see if I could do anything, anything at all, to help you. Is there anything you need? I know that’s sort of a stupid question too, but I’d just really like to do something. Anything.”

  Ann shook her head at first, but then she looked
toward the cars lining the street and nodded. “Get everyone out of here so I can collapse in peace.” She sort of smiled at him, perhaps attempting to make it seem as if it had been a lighthearted joke. Ethan was pretty certain he knew better.

  He winked at her, trying his best to look conspiratorial. “Tell you what I will do. I’ll go inside, hang around, do the socializing thing. Then I’ll make a big production about leaving, being sure to mention how tired I’m sure you are, how you probably need some time alone, those kinds of things. I’ll see how many of the others I can suck into my wake as I go.” She did look exhausted, so it shouldn’t be that hard to pull off.

  “That would be much appreciated.”

  “Consider it done, then.”

  The two of them walked to the kitchen entrance. Ethan hurried forward, opened the screen door, and reached for the doorknob. “Shall we?”

  She paused before walking through the door and looked at him. “Really. Thank you.”

  “Not a problem.” Ethan held the door until she walked through, then followed just in time to see Danielle put an arm around Annie.

  “There you are. Come right over here and get something to drink and a bite to eat.” She pulled Annie in the direction of the modified buffet assembled on the kitchen counter.

  “I don’t really—”

  “Bah! Don’t even start with that. You need to keep up your strength. Let’s see, how about some finger sandwiches and sweet tea? No one goes hungry when I’m in charge. Besides, you’ve never lived until you’ve tried my famous wild mushroom grits. Right, Cindy?”

  Old Mrs. Edwards looked up from her post at the buffet table. “Let the poor kid choose her own food, Danielle. Honestly.” She nodded toward Ethan. “Looks like young Ethan’s already offering his assistance. She don’t need any from us old women. Don’t you remember your youth at all?”

  Ethan held his breath. Mrs. Edwards had spent the last five years determined to get him “married off.” Surely she wouldn’t start that at a time like this. He let out the breath he’d been holding when she reached across the table and squeezed Annie’s arm. “How you holding up, sweetie?”

  “She’ll be holding up better when we get some food in her. Now tell me what you want on here.” Danielle grabbed a plate and started filling it while Annie looked on, mouth slightly agape.

  Ethan smiled, thankful for these women who had loved Sarah and would do anything they could to help her sister. Now it was time for him to start working the crowd and helping in his own way.

  Group after group, he’d join the circle and agree with the conversations about what a wonderful person Sarah had been. And she had been. So wonderful. He thought of all the ways she’d helped Tammy and Keith over these last few years, the way her smile could brighten anyone’s day. The loss to them all was almost unbearable. It just didn’t make sense, and there could be no denying that. But Ethan’s current concern was Sarah’s older sister; he just couldn’t shake the compulsion that he had to help her. So he’d say his bit about Sarah and then add, “Poor Annie looks absolutely exhausted.” Just planting the thought in everyone’s mind.

  He saw Ann talking to Mrs. Williams, an eightyish-year-old woman with gray hair and large trifocals. He walked over just in time to hear Mrs. Williams say, “Sarah was such a giver. She was always taking care of people, driving me places after I broke my hip, bringing the groceries by. And not just for me, for a lot of other people too. Heaven has gained the most beautiful flower yet in the garden of the saints.”

  Ann choked on the coffee she’d just sipped and started coughing. “Garden of the saints?” she said.

  “The place where her Maker can always delight in her, just like we did while she was here on earth.”

  Something about the look on Ann’s face made Ethan fairly sure she was reaching the point of hysteria. He needed to do something—and fast. “Mrs. Williams, could you help me with something for just a minute?”

  She looked up at him, her face eager. “Why, of course.”

  “Right this way.” Ethan led her away from Annie, then leaned down and whispered, “Ann looks so exhausted. I’m wondering, do you think we should start hinting that it’s maybe time for people to go on home so she can get some rest?”

  Mrs. Williams nodded briskly. “Exactly right. I was just thinking the same thing. I’m going right over to Mildred and Ethel and tell them they’re about to overstay their welcome.”

  Ethan was almost positive that she had not been thinking the same thing, but she was his ally now, and he wasn’t going to question her. “Thanks, I’ll get the Seidls and the Langmos.”

  “Right.” Mrs. Williams walked faster than Ethan had seen her move in some time—a woman on a mission.

  Ethan walked up to Elli Seidl. “This has been such a sad day, hasn’t it? Sarah was such a wonderful person.” He scrubbed his hands across his face and nodded in Ann’s direction. “I think I’ll be leaving now. I know it’s been a long day for Annie, and she’s got lots of things to take care of. The poor kid must be worn out. I think I’ll leave her to get some rest.”

  “Oh yes, you’re probably right. We probably should get moving.”

  Five minutes later a mass exodus had begun. Ethan walked past Ann, who was saying her good-byes to a group of guests. She looked his way, and he nodded, just barely. She reached back to rub her neck and dipped her head slightly in response. It seemed as though a silent friendship had been formed.

  The garden of the saints? This was the comment that almost started the inevitable breakdown—complete with screaming and tears, Ann was sure—but she knew she needed to avoid that, at least until after these people left and she could be alone. So she tried to remember the words to “Eleanor Rigby.” How did that song start? Something about Eleanor at the church? The words wouldn’t come to her, but the process of trying to remember had granted her at least temporary self-control.

  Ethan had been like the pied piper of the crowd, because almost everyone began their good-byes right after his. Ann had never been so grateful to anyone.

  Now she was alone, except for Danielle, Tammy, and Keith. “These casseroles all go back to the church.” Tammy towel dried the last of the rectangular dishes and set it beside the other six or seven. “All the rest have names on the bottom.”

  “Right.” Danielle looked up from the notepad she was writing on. “I’ll drop those by tomorrow.” She looked toward Ann then and nodded toward the counter. “Those are the cards from flowers, et cetera, which I’m sure you’ll want to acknowledge.” She looked around the room. “All done?”

  “All finished here.” Tammy wiped the counter. “You’ve got our phone numbers, right? You know you can call either of us day or night, and we’ll be here for you.”

  “I’ve got ’em.” Ann looked toward the typed list that Danielle had hung on the refrigerator. “Thanks. For everything.”

  “That’s what we’re here for.” Danielle hugged her, and she, Tammy, and Keith walked her out to the driveway and bade her farewell.

  Ann was pretty confident that Tammy was going to stay until told to leave, and since she was ready to be alone, she set about doing just that. “Bless your heart, thank you so much for all you’ve done.” The “bless your heart” had been an intentional addition, as Ann had learned long ago that preceding even the bluntest comment with this phrase seemed to make it acceptable in southern society. Too bad Sarah wasn’t here to see this. She’d spent the last few years complaining about Ann’s increasing New York–ishness. What was it she’d said once when Ann was recounting the story of a conflict at work? “Annie, you’re getting downright Yankee-fied.” Yeah, that was it. And she’d said it in a perfectly horrified voice, as if declaring Ann had the plague.

  Sarah.

  The thought almost knocked her to her knees. Sarah. She was gone.

  “Oh, no problem at all. I’m just so happy I could do something to help. Sarah loved you so much. I know she’d want me to look after you.” Tammy reached out and
grasped Ann’s hands. “I bet Sarah is watching down on us and smiling right now. I’m sure she’s happy to see that we’ve become friends.” Tammy released her grip and started back toward Sarah’s house.

  Hmm . . . it might take some New York bluntness to get this one out of here. But Ann remained determined, at least for these couple of days, to be as polite as she was capable of being, for Sarah. “You know, Tammy, I’m really tired. I think I’m going to take a hot bath and call it an early night, okay?”

  “Oh, of course you’re tired. You go soak in a hot tub and relax. Get to bed early. That’s what you should do. Do you need me to stay for a while?”

  “No!” It came out harsh, but Ann couldn’t control it. “You’ve done . . . so much already. I think a little alone time might do me good.”

  Tammy looked doubtful but stopped walking and looked toward her own home. “Okay then, but you’ve got to promise you’ll call me if you need anything.”

  Ann held up two fingers, which she thought was like a Scout’s honor kind of thing, but having never been a Girl Scout, she wasn’t sure. “Promise.”

  “Well, I’ll see you in the morning, then. I’ll bring something over for breakfast.”

  Breakfast? Time for another round of diplomacy. “You know, I’m not much of a breakfast eater. How about I’ll just see you around, okay?”

  “Oh . . . well . . . sure. Sure. I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, then. Come on, Keith. We need to get home.”

  “Bye, Annie.” Keith threw his arms around Ann and hugged tight. “I love you.”

  The words stunned Ann all the way to the bone. “I . . .” No other words would come. She hugged him tight, but when the urge to cry on his shoulder became almost overwhelming, she pulled away. They needed to leave, and fast, or she was going to break down right here in front of them. Ann focused on deep breathing.