by Robin Janney
Angela nodded. “He made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. We watched Batman Begins.”
“And Craig had brought a box of each kind of tea over from the store, just so you could have whatever flavor you wanted. Jared thought it was funny, but he’s just a kid who doesn’t understand what it really was…love.”
“I remember,” Angela said softly. “I fell asleep the first time. When he woke me up, he called me honey. I don’t think he meant to, so I pretended I didn’t notice. He always made me my favorite foods. He always asked what movie I wanted to see. Oh God, I’ve made a mess of things.”
“Yeah, but I think you have a good excuse.” Cassie gave her a squeeze. “I think he’ll understand.”
Philip cleared his throat. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”
His oldest daughter wiped her face. “I…I’m not sure. I remember Craig taking me shopping. It was after Harry was found dead in my apartment. But I don’t really remember how Harry was found. I know we all talked in the living room about my adoption and the accident where Randy died before the shopping. And I keep hearing a Trisha Yearwood song in my head, but I don’t know the significance of it. It’s all a blur.”
“Angela, you’re bleeding!” Cassie said suddenly. She dropped the picture and took her sister’s arm in her hands.
“I must have cut myself on the glass.” Angela sighed, looked around her room. Her eyebrows shot up at the mess she’d made. “I made a mess here too. I guess I’d better clean it up. Thanks, Cassie. Dad. Can you…let me figure out how to tell Craig on my own?”
Father and daughter looked at each other.
“I will,” said Cassie.
“Same here,” agreed Philip. He started to look over his reading glasses but decided to take them off instead. Letting them dangle in his hand, he continued, “But you know you have to tell him, right? And soon.”
“I know.” Angela nodded and rose to her feet. She helped Cassie up, then they both helped their father up, both acting like it was a struggle. It was good to hear even a little laughter from Angela.
Crisis over, Philip returned to his office and struggled not to call his son-in-law. Thankfully he was spared having to make that choice because the phone rang half an hour later and it was Craig.
“I heard about today,” said his absent son-in-law. “About Angela and Everett, I mean.”
“I’m not surprised,” Philip replied, running a hand over his face. “I saw both Flo and Lucy there.”
“Those would be the ones.” Craig hesitated. “How is she?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” he retorted angrily. While the young man had been sending daisies every few days, it had been the only thing he’d been doing. And now even that had stopped. He was taking Angela’s request for space a little too literally in Philip’s opinion.
Craig sighed. “Put her on then.”
“Hold on.” Philip set the receiver on the desk and walked to the bottom of the stairway. He opened the door and broke his own rule about yelling up and down the stairs; why bother following it if no one else did? “Angela!”
He heard her feet thump on the floor and waited for her door to open. Her face peaked out.
“You have a phone call.” He waited a beat. “It’s Craig.”
Her face flickered, a bit of happiness daring to make itself known. “Okay.” The door shut again, and he heard the bounce of her bedsprings; he’d be willing to bet she’d flopped on the bed like she was a teenager again.
Returning to his office, he picked the receiver up and put it to his ear to make sure his daughter had picked up. He smiled at the sound of her voice and started to hang up. But then he didn’t. He pressed the mute button and sat down to listen.
“I’m alright, I guess,” Angela was saying. There was life in her voice.
“They’re saying you put Everett in his place pretty good.” His son-in-law’s voice sounded relaxed and lighter.
“Oh, are they?”
Philip hoped Craig was wise in his answer.
“I believe I heard Flo say you threw a bottle of Pepsi at him.”
Angela groaned, and he knew Craig had said the right thing. “I was so embarrassed,” Angela admitted to her husband. “Did Flo tell you the whole story about the soda?”
“She was telling Becky, so I might have missed some of it.”
“I was so nervous, I forgot the Pancake House only sells Coke products. I ordered a Pepsi, and of course they don’t sell it. I was just going to let it go, but…” Anger filled her voice. “He pulls money out and tells the waitress to send someone across the street to the mini-mart to get me one!”
“Are you serious?” Craig laughed a little.
“Yes and get this – she actually did it!”
Her husband laughed again. A silence fell afterward.
“Craig, do you remember…”
“I miss you, Angela.”
Philip had to refrain from sighing. If Craig had just let her finish…
“I miss you too. A lot.” She sounded perplexed. “Uhm, would you come to dinner tomorrow night? I’d ask you to come tonight, but Mom likes notice for that kind of stuff.”
“I don’t know, Angela…” Craig fell silent again.
Philip wanted to reach through the phone and strangle them both as the silence stretched.
“If I come to dinner, will you come home with me?” Craig asked her.
“I…I don’t know. I need to talk to you first.”
“Angela!” Craig’s exasperation was clear.
“Then just think about it? Please?” There were tears in her voice.
“Alright. I’ll think about it,” the young man said, his tone telling Philip his answer was probably going to be no. “I’ll call tomorrow and let you know.”
“Okay.” Her voice was soft. “I guess, I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
“Angela…”
“Goodnight, Craig.”
“You don’t want to hang up on our three count?” asked Craig, his voice as soft as Angela’s.
Angela hesitated. “No, not tonight.” There was a soft click as she hung up.
“Damn it, Angela…”
Before Philip could open his mouth to address his son-in-law, the other man slammed his receiver down causing Philip to jerk the phone away from his ear.
He hung his receiver up and drew a deep breath. “I really need to get those two in the same room.”
59
D inner was quiet that night, but Philip couldn’t blame any of them. Angela’s face was downcast, and it hurt them all. He had whispered to Maude about their daughter’s memory loss, and her face had fallen in sorrow…and then she’d vowed to make it up to the girl if the two could just reconnect.
A cool breeze blew in through their open windows, bringing with it the sounds of the milk cows mooing along with the sound of crickets. There was a bullfrog living in the pond again this summer. His deep ribbit resounded in the deepening twilight.
“I hate having dinner so late,” Maude said in an attempt to be cheerful. No one acknowledged her, but it didn’t stop her. “It makes the belly too heavy for sleep.”
After a few minutes of pushing her food around her plate, Angela spoke up, surprising Philip. “Mom, I just wanted to let you know I invited Craig to dinner tomorrow night. He said he’d think about it, but…but I just wanted to let you know in case he says yes.”
“Wonderful!” Maude’s pleasure beamed on her face. “I hope he comes. We’ll have barbeque chicken on the grill then.”
Angela nodded, something in her face relaxing. Was the girl really that worried about her mother’s reactions?
But after holding his tongue for a month, Jared could no longer contain himself. He slammed his fork down on the table and swore. “Dammit, Angie! He’s your husband! How long are you going to punish him for something he didn’t do? He’s not the one who hurt you!”
Before either parent could step in, Angela had slammed her o
wn fork down, accidently spraying her sister with spaghetti sauce. It was too hot for spaghetti, but Philip knew his wife was doing everything she could to coax Angela to eat.
“How dare you!” his daughter exclaimed angrily, glaring at her brother. “How dare you be the angry one! I was the one who was hurt, not you! This is my life and I’m dealing with it the best I know how!”
“No, you’re not Angela! You’re not dealing with it at all!” argued Jared, standing to his feet and planting his fists on the table. “You walk around like someone’s died! Like there’s no hope left!”
By now the two were yelling at each other.
“People did die!” Angela was on her feet now too, her hands flat on the table. “Men I once called friends! You are out of line talking about things you know nothing about!”
“I’ll be angry and out of line if I want to! God lied to me! You two had gotten married. None of this was supposed to happen!”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard about that ‘word’ of yours.” Angela raised a hand to point a finger at her brother. “So, you were wrong! You misheard, or you misunderstood. Get over it! You’re still twelve for a few more weeks and you have so much to learn! Randy had times when he was wrong. He thought for sure he was going to grow up and marry me. Said he ‘knew it’.” She threw air quotations up. “Wouldn’t that have been a fine mess since we’re cousins?
“And baby brother, have you stopped to consider that it could have been worse? I could have been raped, or mutilated, or killed. I almost did die! Yes, this is hard. For both me and Craig. You have no idea how hard, but you have no idea how much worse it could be!”
Jared pushed off the table and took off, Angela following him. Those at the table heard the boy running upstairs while his sister yelled up at him.
“That’s right! Go ahead and run away! Go upstairs and sulk! I’ll just go outside and do my sulking out there!” The slam of the screen door punctuated her words.
Stunned silence filled the house as the three remaining at the table continued to look at each other.
“What just happened?” Philip asked in disbelief.
Cassie swallowed a laugh as she began cleaning the sauce off her face. “I don’t know, but that sounded an awful lot like our old Angela.”
“That it did,” agreed Maude, her smile returning to her face. “I just hope they both got it out of their systems.”
“Which one do you want to take?” Philip asked, rising to his feet.
“I’ll take Jared; Angela still responds to you better.”
Philip nodded and sought out his oldest. He didn’t have to look far. She sat on the top step of the porch steps, bent double with both arms around her knees. He lowered himself to the top step next to her. He ran his hand across her back.
“He didn’t deserve that,” he said after a moment.
“No, not the anger,” a calmer Angela agreed. She turned her head to look at her father, her eyes glittering in the light coming from the house. “But he needed to hear some of that.”
Philip tried to put an arm around her, but she shrugged him off. She’d only ever done that once before, after her senior prom, and he returned to rubbing her back with his hand. “Honey, we’re all hurt by what happened to you.”
“But Jared’s the only one walking around like my kidnapping was a personal affront to him. Like God lied to him.”
He couldn’t argue with that and didn’t try. “He’s young yet. Like you are.”
Angela returned her gaze to the dirt at the bottom of the steps. “Were you listening to Craig and me?”
“What makes you think that?”
She shrugged. “The sound didn’t change. I don’t care if you did.”
He sighed and nodded. “I was listening. I heard you try. He’s hurting right now too. He’s never there when I stop at the store, and he doesn’t answer the door.”
“Do you think he’ll come tomorrow? I could talk to him better if he did.”
Philip considered the conversation he heard, the hurt and anger in her husband’s voice. But he’d heard love between them too. He gave the only answer he had.
“I hope so.”
T he next afternoon, Angela sat on the steps as she had the night before. Her anxiety was causing her chest to hurt, but she wasn’t having an attack, so she didn’t say anything. She bore what she perceived as her punishment in silence. It was nearing dinner time, and Craig hadn’t called yet.
Jared came and sat next to her. Without conscious thought, her brother copied her pose…leaning over his knees and hugging them. Looking at her, he said somewhat gruffly, “I’m sorry for yesterday.”
She turned her head to look over at him. “Me too. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed. But there was a twinkle in his eye when he said, “But it’s the most life we’ve seen out of you since you came home, so…it’s okay.”
Angela managed a small smile. “Mom told me Cassie said something like that too.”
“Yeah.” They sat in relative silence. Soft, but loud, strains of country music were coming from upstairs.
The shrill ringing of the phone brought Angela to her feet. Her heart was pounding, in fear or anticipation, she wasn’t sure. The phone rang again, and she heard her father say he was getting it. Slowly, she started into the house.
As Philip crossed the kitchen to answer the ringing phone, he muttered loudly, “Cass sure is playing her music loud today.”
“At least her taste in music is still country.” Maude stirred mayonnaise into the cold pea salad she was making to go with the chicken she had marinating. “I’ve always loved Trisha Yearwood.”
“True. Hello? Carman residence,” Philip said into the mouthpiece of their wall phone.
“Philip,” came a tortured voice.
Drawing in a sharp breath at his son-in-law’s tone, he was afraid of the answer the boy had called to give. He saw his daughter crossing the living room. “Hi Craig, Angela’s right here…”
“No, don’t put her on. I can’t…I’m sorry, I can’t come. Not if she’s not going to come home with me.”
“Are you sure? Maude’s got some chicken marinating.”
“I’m sure.”
He just had to get the boy here. “She invited you, Craig…she’s trying. She needs to talk to you and wants it to be in person. Why are you being so stubborn?”
“Why is she?”
“Because she doesn’t…” But Craig had already hung up. Philip slammed the receiver down into its base.
“He’s not coming, is he?” Angela’s voice was wooden.
“No, honey, he’s not. I’m sorry.” He was about to suggest she go to him when the CD upstairs began to skip and it made him pause.
The music began to play again, and Angela recognized the song…she just didn’t understand why it was important. Had Craig played it for her? She couldn’t stop the tears anymore…the pain demanded release.
Philip had taken a moment to look upstairs and lowered his head in time to see Angela running out the front door.
“Angela!” her mother was calling, running after her.
“Let her go,” Philip advised.
But a mother’s instinct brought her back to the kitchen to look out the window. Concern filled her voice as she exclaimed, “Philip, she’s heading for the pond!”
Philip took off running, bolting out through the laundry room door. “Angela!”
But it wasn’t the pond she was at when he caught up to her. Angela was kneeling over her brother’s grave, her fist pounding into the ground. Sobs ripped from her like the day they’d buried him.
“It’s not working!” she managed through the tears. Was she talking to her brother, to her Jesus, or to the father she felt approaching her from behind? Maybe all three. “I came back! I chose life…but this isn’t working…this isn’t life! I don’t remember…I keep trying and all there is the accident and Derek pawing at me. I know Craig loves me, I can see it in
his eyes, hear it in his voice…but I don’t see it in his actions…I don’t know if he still wants me. And…it hurts so much…I can’t stop hurting…”
She sat back on her heels, knowing he’d be there when she stretched her arms out to him. “Daddy…help me…”
Philip was kneeling in front of her in a heartbeat, just as he had done time and time again. His arms held her shaking frame.
“Angela, honey, I’m so sorry…” he said softly, repeating it until the worst of her storm was over. “I had no idea…”
She drew a deep shuddering breath. She was safe in her father’s arms, but she wanted her husband’s and he wouldn’t even come to dinner. “My mom…”
“What about her?”
“She was your sister. Janine, but you all called her Jeannie.”
“Yes. I don’t remember telling you that part though.” He ran his hand over her unruly hair.
“I kind of met her, I think. When I was in the coma. I don’t know how to describe it. It all felt so real.” She pulled away from her father, sat on the ground. He sat next to her, an arm still around her. Her hands wiped at her face. “It was all so…terribly beautiful…but when I came back, none of it makes sense anymore.” In short words, Angela told him what she remembered of her time on the other side of reality. “I remember Craig was there. In the beginning when I defeated the Beast. I only heard him after that. Do you believe me?”
“I do. Craig shared his side of the experience with me while you were still unconscious. You were there much longer. And Angela, he talked to you a lot. I lost count of how many times I walked in to see him leaning up against you, just talking. You were probably hearing him.”
The dying man is talking again…why is he dying?
He’s lost the light in his darkness. He’s lost you.
The phrases were important, but she couldn’t place them any more than she could remember her own wedding. She pounded her forehead with the heel of her palm in anger, as if it would knock her memories into place. Her father’s hand captured hers and held it.
“That won’t help, honey.”
“My mom told me she was sick. Everett said the same thing.”