St. Francis Society for Wayward Pets

Home > Other > St. Francis Society for Wayward Pets > Page 25
St. Francis Society for Wayward Pets Page 25

by Annie England Noblin


  I heard the crunching of glass and metal just before I was thrown forward into the pop of the airbag and everything went black.

  Chapter 31

  WHEN I CAME TO, I WAS STILL INSIDE THE LEXUS WITH Gary. He was moaning beside me, and I turned my head to see his crumpled frame in the passenger’s seat. Pain shot through me when I tried to move, but I managed to unbuckle my seat belt. The door was stuck, but the window was busted out, and I pulled myself up from the seat and through the window, landing on the ground with a sickening thud.

  I could hear Gary yelling at me from inside the car. I didn’t know if he still had the gun, and the sirens were pounding in my ears even though I couldn’t see them. When I put my hands down onto the pavement, all I felt was glass. I forced myself to my feet and began to run, praying I wouldn’t vomit. I ran toward the direction of the sirens, but it felt as though I was running through molasses, and I wasn’t sure if I was really moving at all until a police car came to a screeching halt in front of me. A uniformed officer jumped out of the front seat, followed by Abel from the passenger’s seat, and I dropped to my knees.

  Abel caught me just before I fell completely, and he held me there as I cried. “He’s . . . he’s . . . he’s in the car,” I stammered. “He’s got a gun.”

  “Shhhh . . .” Abel said. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

  Abel released me when two EMTs with a stretcher appeared, as if out of nowhere, and loaded me onto it. “Don’t leave me,” I said.

  “I won’t,” Abel replied. He took my hand.

  All I wanted to do was close my eyes. My head was pounding. I could taste blood in my mouth and feel it running down my face. As the EMTs picked up the stretcher to put me into the ambulance, I tried to sit up. “Alice,” I said. My voice sounded so far away from my body.

  “She’s okay,” Abel said.

  I let out a sigh of relief and closed my eyes.

  Annabelle

  February 1985

  LABOR HAD NOT BEEN EASY. ANNABELLE HAD LAIN ON her back for nearly twenty-four hours before it had been time to push. The nuns took her to the hospital when her water broke, and two of them sat outside in the waiting room with the Stephens family, but Annabelle had labored alone. She’d delivered her baby girl alone.

  The doctors and nurses were skilled when it came to delivering babies birthed by single mothers, but that didn’t mean Annabelle had escaped their judgment in the big Catholic Seattle hospital. One of the nurses, a sweet-faced woman with sympathetic eyes, had told Annabelle that she was still a pretty girl and that there would be plenty of time to start a family in God’s eyes once this whole, awful situation had been taken care of.

  Annabelle tried not to think about the way it might have been if things had been different—if Billy or her parents were still alive—but it was hard. The maternity ward was filled with happy women and happy families, and Annabelle didn’t know how to separate the incredible joy of giving birth with the excruciating pain of giving her daughter up to someone else, regardless of whether or not it was the best or right thing to do.

  “You can change your mind,” Alice said when she got there the next day to take Annabelle home. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “They left with her this morning,” Annabelle replied. “She’s gone.”

  “Didn’t you even get to say goodbye?”

  Annabelle pulled her shirt on over her head and then sat down gingerly on the bed. It hurt so bad to sit. “I got three hours with her,” she said.

  Alice sat down on the bed beside her friend and took her hand. “You know I’m not good with all of this emotional stuff,” she said. “But I love you, and we’ll always have each other, okay? We’ll always be there for each other.”

  Annabelle mustered a smile, even though smiling felt nearly as painful as sitting down. “I know,” she replied. “I love you too.”

  Annabelle knew that she would have to go home to Alice and her parents. Right now there was no other choice until she could save up enough money to get her own place. What Annabelle hadn’t told Alice was that she’d watched from her hospital room window as the Stephenses took their new daughter home. She’d watched them carry her outside and then watched the two of them fuss with a car seat, something Annabelle hadn’t even considered a baby would need. There were lots of things, Annabelle knew, she hadn’t considered, and for a brief moment there was almost a sense of relief to know that this baby’s future was out of her hands. There was nothing she could do to mess it up.

  Then June Stephens had looked up at the building, searching all the dark windows for Annabelle’s until she found it. She’d smiled at Annabelle and waved, and Annabelle could see the older woman mouthing the words “Thank you” to her before sliding into the back seat with the baby.

  Annabelle had murmured the same words back to her before closing the blinds and sliding back into bed, holding on to the blanket that smelled like the baby that was no longer hers, until the nurse came into the room to tell her it was time to dress and go home.

  Chapter 32

  THE NEXT TIME I WOKE UP, I WAS IN A HOSPITAL BED. THE pounding in my head was still there, but it was dull, and I was able to focus on the cream-colored ceiling. I could hear voices around me, and it took me a minute to figure out how to turn my head to see who was in the room with me.

  I heard someone say, “She’s awake!”

  Then a doctor and several nurses descended upon me before my parents were there and calling my name.

  “What,” I said, my throat thick. “What happened?”

  “You’re in the hospital,” my father said, stroking my forehead. “You’re okay though.”

  “She’s been out for three days,” my mother said to him. “That’s not okay in my book.”

  My father shot my mother a look and then he focused back on me and said, “You were in a car accident. You broke two ribs and fractured your left ankle. You had a pretty good concussion, and you’ve got cuts just about everywhere, but the doctors say you’ll be okay, and that’s all that matters.”

  “What hospital am I in?”

  “Seattle Catholic,” my father replied. “They had you airlifted after the accident.”

  “Can I have something to drink?” I asked. “My throat hurts.”

  “Of course.” My mother handed me a Styrofoam cup with a straw sticking through the plastic lid. “Here you go.”

  I took several gulps. “Thank you,” I said. “That feels better.”

  “Your brother and Kate are outside,” my mother continued. “You’ve got a whole waiting room full of people. I don’t think that big bearded man has left at all since we got here.”

  “Abel?”

  “That’s his name,” my mother said. “He’s been sitting with Eli.”

  I started to smile, but then I remembered why I was in the hospital. I remembered Gary and his gun and crashing into a roundabout, and I struggled to sit up as I said, “Where is Yulina? Ani? What about Gary? Is he in jail?”

  “Slow down,” my father said. “There’s also a police detective waiting outside to speak to you too, but I do know that your friend and her daughter are okay.”

  “What about Gary?”

  “He’s dead,” came a voice from the doorway. “Gary Johnson is dead, and he won’t be taking anybody for a joyride anytime soon.”

  My parents stepped out of the way as a man wearing a suit stepped forward and into the room.

  “Let’s go tell everyone she’s awake,” my father said to my mother, taking her hand. “Let them have a few minutes to talk.”

  I reached out for my mother’s hand. “Mom.”

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “Alice, where is she? Is she okay?”

  My mother nodded. “She’s okay. She has something like fifteen stitches in her head, but she’s okay. She’s outside too.”

  I sighed. “Oh thank God.”

  My mother turned her steely gaze on the detective and said, “I don
’t know if she’s ready to talk to you. Can’t you come back later?”

  The detective nodded. “I can, but I do have to speak with your daughter sometime.”

  “It’s okay, Mom,” I said. “You go on out with Dad. I’m all right.”

  “I’ll be right outside,” she replied. Then she pointed at the detective. “Don’t you upset her. Do you understand me?”

  The detective’s lip nearly twitched into a smile, and he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is Gary really dead?” I asked once my mother was gone. “Did the police have to shoot him?”

  “I’m Detective Carl Richardson,” the man said, taking a step toward my bed. He had a kind face, and I began to feel myself relax. “Gary Johnson shot himself in the front seat of his Lexus. By the time the responding officers got to him, it was too late.”

  “I thought he was going to kill us both,” I said.

  “Can you tell me what happened that night?” Detective Richardson asked. “We’ve spoken with Alice, but she wasn’t with you in the vehicle, and the only other person who knows what happened besides you is dead.”

  I took a breath and winced. My father hadn’t been joking about those cracked ribs. “I was in the shed at my house on Maple Street,” I said. “Alice had gone out to look for a cat carrier. I guess Gary came up behind her and knocked her out. When I went outside to check on her, she was on the floor of the shed. Then Gary showed up, and he forced me into his car and made me drive. He wanted me to take him to his wife, Yulina. He thought I knew where she was.”

  “Did you know where she was?” Detective Richardson asked.

  “No,” I answered honestly. “I saw her briefly at the knitting shop, and she was going someplace safe, but I didn’t know where.”

  The detective made a note in his notepad and then looked back up at me. “Yulina Johnson maintains that he has hurt her or threatened to hurt her on several occasions.”

  “Yes,” I replied. “I witnessed his abuse.”

  “Can you tell me about that?” the detective asked, flipping over to a fresh piece of paper in his notepad.

  “Maeve?” I heard Abel’s voice, and then he was standing right beside me, leaning over me and kissing my forehead. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “I thought you were going to die.”

  “I’m sorry,” the nurse said, following him into the room. “I couldn’t stop him. I told him you were in here, Detective, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “It’s okay,” the detective replied, snapping his notepad closed. “I’m done for now. I’ll come back later, Ms. Stephens, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course,” I said, my eyes still locked on Abel’s.

  “Give us just a minute,” I said to the nurse once the detective was gone. “Then you can let everybody else in.”

  “How are you feeling?” Abel asked me. “You’ve been out for days.”

  “I feel about as good as I probably look,” I said. “But I’m going to be okay.”

  “When you and Alice didn’t show up at the house, I got worried and went to check on you. I knew something was wrong when I found Happy inside the house going crazy, chewing at her harness and barking.”

  “I didn’t think,” I said, swallowing. “I didn’t think he’d really do anything.”

  Abel’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said.

  “Beryl saw his car pull into the alley. He didn’t have his lights on, and she thought it was weird, so she called it in to the police. They showed up a couple of minutes after I did.”

  “I’m glad you caught up with us when you did,” I said. “I don’t know what would have happened otherwise. Where is Yulina? Are she and Ani safe?”

  Abel nodded. “They are. They’re safe.”

  “What about Happy? And Sherbet? They weren’t left alone in the house, were they?” I tried to sit up. I was suddenly panicked at the thought of them alone and afraid in the house.

  “I took them both to my house. Max has been having a blast taking care of them the past couple of days, although Sherbet is not at all happy with Max carrying him around all the time, and he’s gone back to the house to look for you every day. Happy too, when I take her on walks,” Abel said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For taking care of them for me.”

  Abel leaned down and pressed his forehead into mine. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For the way I acted. I don’t have a good excuse. But when I thought you were gone, when I thought Gary was going to kill you, I almost lost my mind.”

  “I’m okay,” I insisted.

  “I can live with one ghost,” he said, kissing me softly on the lips. “But I can’t live with two.”

  I kissed him back.

  Chapter 33

  ALICE SAT IN ONE OF THE CHAIRS IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM, her cane leaning against the wall and a pair of knitting needles in her hands. “Okay,” she said. “Try holding your needles like this.” She held her handiwork up for me to see.

  I sighed. “I’m never going to get the hang of this.”

  I’d been in the hospital for nearly two weeks, and I was going stir-crazy. Alice had finally gotten the stitches out of her head and been cleared to drive, and the first place she came was to Seattle to visit me.

  “Sure you are,” Alice said. “You’re going to have eight weeks off your feet to get the hang of it.”

  “This is torture.”

  “Oh, hush,” Alice replied. “I didn’t like it either, and now I’m one of the best knitters in the tri-state area.”

  “Is Canada in the tri-state area?” I asked, grinning.

  “Look,” Alice said, pointing to me. “You did it, and you weren’t even paying attention!”

  I looked down at the sweater in my hands. “Hey! I did it!”

  “I told you that you’d get the hang of it,” Alice replied. “So, what time are you getting discharged tomorrow?”

  I shrugged. “The nurses told me it would be in the morning, but they didn’t give me a specific time.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay with your parents tonight?” Alice asked. “I hate to put them out.”

  “You’re not putting them out,” I said. “You’re my ride back from Seattle.”

  “I about had to fight Abel for the honor,” she replied. “He was bound and determined he was coming down with me, but Max has that science fair this weekend.”

  “I’m glad it’s you bringing me home,” I said. “He’s got no business being on the road—he said he’s been up past two a.m. every night working on an outline for his new book. Apparently his literary agent cried when he told her.”

  “I’ve never seen him so happy,” Alice said. “And that’s the truth.”

  “He and Eli have been talking quite a bit,” I said. “Twice I’ve called, and Abel was on the phone with Eli, discussing his book plans. I guess they really hit it off after the accident.”

  “Your mother told me neither one of them left that waiting room,” Alice replied. “You’re lucky to have so many people who care about you.”

  “I know,” I said. “It took me a long time to realize it.”

  “You know, it’s odd,” Alice said. “The last time I was here, I was bringing Annabelle home without you. Now I’m bringing you home without her.”

  I held my hand out to her, and she took it. I’d come to Timber Creek with a lot of ideas about the way things ought to be and no ideas about how to fix the mess I’d made of my life, because I thought for some reason that it was broken—that I was broken—and I blamed that brokenness on the cracks I assumed everyone else could see, the pieces of my life that I thought never fit together and all the years I thought I would never know what those pieces meant. For the first time in my life, the pieces meant more to me than it did to make them fit together.

  I looked down at Alice’s hand. I looked at the oval shape of her nails, the way her pinkie finger curled away just a little bit
more than the rest of her fingers, and the way the delicate veins crossed over one another, pulsing beneath the skin. Her hands were eighteen years older than mine, but I would have known what those hands looked like, even if I hadn’t bothered to look down.

  I knew, because those hands were mine too.

  “They would be so proud of you,” Alice said, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

  “Will you tell me about them?” I asked. “Will you tell me which parts of them I am?”

  “Of course,” Alice replied. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  I smiled and leaned back into the bed, our hands still clasped together. “It would be nice,” I said, “if you started at the beginning.”

  Epilogue

  ANNABELLE WATCHED AS PARTYGOERS ARRIVED, WITH gifts wrapped in shiny paper carried by little boys wearing superhero shirts. Each of the boys, wide-eyed with excitement, shooed their parents away at the earliest possible moment.

  At the hospital, June had come into Annabelle’s room and sat with her for nearly an hour while Annabelle cried. Annabelle hadn’t even understood why she was crying at the time, because it wasn’t just the profound loss she felt. It wasn’t just losing her baby—it was more than that in a way she couldn’t explain, but June hadn’t asked. She’d just sat herself down beside Annabelle on the bed and held her.

  “I can’t promise you I won’t make mistakes,” June had said to her. “But I can promise you I’ll do my best every single day to be the kind of mother I know that you would want me to be.”

  “Thank you,” Annabelle replied, trying to pull herself together enough to get ready to leave the hospital. She knew that Alice was waiting outside for her. “Have you decided on a name?”

  June hesitated. “It’s a family name,” she said. “We’ve decided to call her Maeve, Mae for short.”

  “It’s a beautiful name,” Annabelle replied. “I love it.”

  Maeve emerged from the house with a little boy, maybe about six. He must be the birthday boy. He eyed the presents with interest before attempting to grab a hot dog. June scolded him, but there was no malice in her eyes. Not a hint of actual anger. The little boy grinned and ran away, and June called after him a warning about choking to death before it was his own turn to have presents. Maeve ran after him, laughing, and grabbed him around his middle, pulling him into a hug. Annabelle felt a sense of relief that she hadn’t expected, now that she knew Maeve had a sibling. It was something that she, herself, had always wanted.

 

‹ Prev