Tyler’s appetite disappeared, leaving behind a cold anger. “Oh, I care that my daughter is dead and lies up in that cemetery alone with no one to keep her warm. And I care that she’ll never grow up and have friends or go to the prom or get married,” he stated in a cold, hard voice. “But Sara’s gone and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can only go on. The thing is, I’ve managed to go on and you haven’t.” His features were set in a tight mask. “The way things are between us, I might as well have buried you up there with her.”
Libby’s eyes were dark in her face as she stared at him. “You have no idea how I feel,” she said in a low voice throbbing with fury and pain. “You weren’t the one to go into the nursery and find her lying there.” Her voice rose as she stood up. “She never had a chance!”
“Stop it!” Tyler jumped out of his chair and took hold of Lily’s shoulders, giving her a hard shake. Her head bobbed back and forth loosely. “Just stop it, Libby!”
She carefully disengaged herself from his hold and stepped back. She didn’t say one word as she left the kitchen.
Tyler slumped in his chair. He felt closer to eighty than thirty.
He had planned to tell Libby it looked as if another dream was about to come true. Fred was talking about taking on a partner, and he was willing to allow Tyler to work his way into the partnership. He wanted to talk to her about trying to have another child. He refused to believe that God would take away another baby from them.
He looked upward. “You wouldn’t, would you?” he whispered. “Please, help her see that we have so much ahead of us. I don’t want to go on without her. I love her too much.”
Tyler’s shoulders rose and fell in a resigned sigh. He could only hope someone had heard him. Was wanting his wife back asking too much?
LIBBY WAS USED TO LOSING track of time by now. When she woke up the next morning, Tyler had already left for work. All she found was an indentation on the pillow next to hers and a pile of wet towels on the bathroom counter. When the phone rang, she rolled over and muttered a halfsleepy hello.
“Elizabeth Louise, in case you’ve forgotten who this is, I am your mother,” a firm voice announced over the line. “I am the woman who raised you and fed brownies to all those boys hanging around our house for so many years. The least you could do is call me more than once a year.”
“I talked to you the day before yesterday,” Libby corrected.
“The last time you talked to me was last Tuesday which is more than a week ago.” Marie Bennett’s voice softened. “You have to stop this, baby.”
“Stop what?” Libby asked, feigning ignorance.
“You know very well what I’m talking about. It’s been long enough. You need to go on, dear. I miss my daughter and I want my little girl back.”
Libby hardened her heart against the sorrow in her mother’s voice.
“I’d like my little girl back, too, Mom, but it just isn’t possible for me. Why do you feel you should have all the luck?”
Libby could hear the older woman’s deep sigh at her own deliberate cruelty.
“You can’t turn bitter from all this, Libby. It isn’t good and it won’t make things any better for you,” she said quietly. “All it will accomplish is pushing away your husband and your family. Is that what you truly want?”
“What I want is my daughter back. Since that isn’t possible, I guess I’ll just have to settle for what I can have.”
“Then think about this, Elizabeth. The holidays are coming and the last thing I want is for you to stray from us at this time.”
Holidays. Libby’s heart felt as if it were freefalling in space.
Her family were big believers in celebrating the holidays, and each holiday was turned into a big party that usually included most of the town. From Halloween to New Years it seemed the family never stopped celebrating. This was to have been her daughter’s introduction to the holidays, Bennett-Barnes style.
A tiny pumpkin costume for Halloween, lovingly stitched by Libby, was now packed away in the cedar chest in the nursery, along with a length of forest green velvet and creamy white lace meant for a Christmas dress. They would never be used.
“Are you sure it’s proper to celebrate?”
“Yes, Libby, it is. Darling, we all hate it that she’s gone, but we have to go on. You have to go on. You and Tyler were blessed once. You can be again.”
Libby sat up in bed. “What if it happens again? What if we have another child who doesn’t wake up one morning? I won’t take that chance.”
“Sweetheart, if you think like that, you will only keep burying your head in the sand so nothing bad will happen to you again. I’m sorry you had to suffer such a loss, but you are not the only one who has gone through this and you won’t be the last. Sara wouldn’t want you to wall yourself off from everyone, including your husband. Don’t punish Tyler for what happened, dear. And don’t punish yourself.”
“No lecture, Mom, please?” Libby took a deep breath for fear she was going to cry. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” She carefully replaced the receiver and flopped back against the pillows. She felt wearier than when she’d gone to sleep the night before.
Finally, she dragged herself out of bed and pulled out a pair of jeans and a dark gray sweatshirt.
Is there some reason why you cannot choose clothing that is a little more cheerful? Right now, you look as if you are preparing to blend in with a dark corner. And I must say you do it beautifully.
“What?” Libby spun around, fearfully expecting to face whoever had spoken to her. But she saw no one.
“Wonderful, now you’re hearing voices,” she murmured to herself as she went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her hair. “If the family knew, they’d probably try to send me to that psychologist again.”
When Libby heard the telephone ring this time; she was more cautious in answering it.
“If you are lying in bed playing lady of the manor I will hate you.”
Libby’s lips curved in a semblance of a smile at the sound of her younger sister’s chirpy voice. “Why? Because you decided to take an eight o’clock class this semester?”
“Hey, if you saw the instructor, you’d understand why,” Vicki Bennett retorted.
“I’ll be curious to see your grades from that class at the end of the semester.”
“All right, you’ve done your best to see if I’m the perfect student and I am, but I have no classes today and I want to go shopping with my favorite older sister. I’ll even treat you to lunch.”
“Vicki, I’m your only older sister,” Libby said dryly.
“And that’s why you’re my favorite. So do whatever you need to do to get ready and I’ll pick you up in a half hour. Uh-uh,” she said quickly, anticipating her sister’s protest. “No excuses, Lib. We’re going to spend money today.” She hung up without letting Libby get another word in.
A day out with your sister is a wonderful idea. Do make sure you buy yourself something more cheerful to wear than that dreary thing you have on now. I am certain you will want to change your clothes before you leave the house.
Libby looked warily around in search of the source of the slightly sarcastic voice, even though it seemed to come from inside her head.
“Maybe I do need a day out.”
By the time Vicki drove up in her sporty red Honda Prelude, Libby had changed into a pair of black wool pants and a black-and-cream, marled-yarn sweater in deference to the cool weather.
“What’s the occasion?” She asked, settling herself in the passenger seat. “You never offer to buy anyone lunch. You’re usually trying to mooch off the rest of us. You already know I won’t do your homework for you.”
“I am truly hurt. I want to do a good deed and spend some quality time with my sister and all you can do is suspect me of something.” Vicki merrily swung her car into traffic, blithely disregarding any car that might be in her way.
Twenty minutes later she was parking in the mall’s garage.
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“I could get more excited about winter clothes if we didn’t have to wear so many layers to stay warm,” she confided, pausing to study a store’s window display. “How can you attract a guy when you’re wearing thermal underwear under four sweaters and a parka?”
“The first time I met Tyler I was wearing a playsuit that made me look like the Pillsbury Doughboy,” Libby said. “He didn’t seem to mind.”
Vicki gave her a long-suffering look. “You were four years old and he was six. Plus he thought you were hot stuff because you shared your brownie with him. What little boy is going to turn down a brownie?”
“Point taken,” Libby conceded. She walked toward one of the stores and stared at a display of baby clothing in the window. She stood mesmerized by a tiny knit sweater until Vicki grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
“There’s a dance on campus next week and I intend to buy a killer dress,” she explained, heading down the mall. “You’re just the person to help me find it.”
Libby had forgotten how exhausting shopping with Vicki could be. The young woman tried on every dress the various stores had to offer, and somehow still found time to bully Libby into trying on a few things. She even managed to talk her into purchasing a couple of sweaters and a blouse.
“Maybe we should see if any of the cosmetic counters are doing makeovers,” Vicki mused as she stopped to study a pair of strappy, high-heeled sandals. “You need a new shade of lipstick or something. You looked better when you had the flu two years ago.”
“Thank you so much for the compliment.”
“You always look so pale now.” Vicki wrinkled her nose as she studied her sister, whose only concession to makeup was a pale pink lipstick and a hint of mascara. “This just will not do.”
She grabbed Libby’s arm and pulled her along. “Come on, elderly sister of mine, I intend to see you looking gorgeous when we leave here.”
“Vicki!” Libby’s protest was ignored as her sibling marched to the cosmetics department like a woman on a mission.
Chapter Two
“I can’t believe how lucky I got today in finding everything I wanted,” Vicki crowed as they drove home late that afternoon. “I was so glad that dress was on sale. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to get those shoes.”
“True, you couldn’t have lived without the shoes,” Libby murmured. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror attached to the sun visor. The deep coral lipstick, smoky green eye shadow and matching liner, and tawny blush looked garish to her. It had been some time since she had bothered with makeup. She never felt as if she had the energy or inclination for the time it took to add color to her cheeks and lips.
Except for that brief moment in front of the children’s clothing store, she hadn’t thought of her baby once all afternoon. Pain sliced through her body. She could feel the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes and a tight sensation low in her belly. How could she forget so easily?
“Don’t!” There was a sharpness in Vicki’s voice that hadn’t been there before. “We had a fun day out and I’m not going to let you ruin it.”
Libby ordinarily would have snapped back at her, but her gaze was fixed on the fifth house from the corner of the street Vicki had turned down on. Her house. A blue Explorer and black pickup truck were parked in the driveway. The back door of the Explorer was open, revealing several boxes. More boxes were piled in the back of the pickup, along with pieces of furniture.
“Let me out,” she ordered, grabbing hold of the door handle.
Vicki grasped her arm as she slowed the car.
Libby whipped her head around and stared at her sister with a look so fierce the younger woman recoiled from her.
“We only wanted to help,” she whispered.
“If you want to help, stay out of my life.” Libby pushed open the door and climbed out so fast she stumbled and almost fell on the road. She quickly regained her balance and ran down the sidewalk to her house. She pushed the front door open and ran in, deliberately ignoring her sister’s pleas as she started toward the back of the house, where she could hear voices.
The room was now empty of furniture, with the exception of a few half-filled boxes placed near the door. Libby’s mother was in the midst of carefully wrapping the bear night-light in paper and placing it in a box. Tyler, bent over sealing a box with packing tape, had his back to Libby.
“I guess this is it,” he said.
Marie Bennett looked up and saw Libby standing in the doorway. “Tyler,” she murmured in warning.
He turned and stared at his wife.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Libby demanded in a low voice, advancing on them.
“It had to be done, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out to restrain her. “We knew how difficult it would be for you, so Marie came over to help me.”
Libby shook off his hand as if it was something disgusting. “You had no right!”
“Elizabeth, you can no longer live in the past. You need to go forward,” her mother said firmly. “Don’t wall yourself off from having more children. You and Tyler deserve a large family. That’s what the two of you have always wanted.”
“Why? So we can go through this pain again?” Libby asked, her voice rising in pitch. “So I have two graves to visit instead of one?”
“Stop it, Libby!” Tyler spoke in a low, firm voice. “We all hurt from this and all you’ve done is allow the pain to fester. I love you and I can’t allow you to keep on this way.”
Libby shook her head as she slowly backed away from him.
“Why are you doing this, Tyler?” she asked in a little-girl voice filled with pain. “You know how important she was to me. How I loved her.”
His face was also filled with pain and sorrow, but something else was there that tore at Libby.
Pity. For her.
“Don’t look at me like that!” she snapped. “You all act as if I’ve lost my wits. Well, I haven’t. There is no set mourning period in the rule books. In some cultures, you can mourn forever. I will not forget my child!”
“Then why won’t you say her name?” He stepped closer to her. “All you ever say is ‘my baby,’ ‘our baby,’ but you never say her name.”
Horror crossed her face as his words sunk in. “How can you be so cruel?” she whispered. “Her name is engraved in my heart.”
“Honey, it may feel cruel now, but the time will come when you’ll understand.” Marie moved forward, her arms outstretched to embrace her daughter.
Libby backed up even more. “Why can’t you just let me handle this myself?” She kept backing up until she stood in the doorway. “Because you aren’t handling it,” Tyler replied.
She shook her head. “I am handling it. It’s the rest of you who aren’t.” She spun around and ran out of the house.
“Libby!” He started after her, but Marie grabbed hold of his arm.
“Let her go, Tyler,” she said softly. “She needs to be alone and think all this through. Once she’s had a chance to consider everything she’ll realize we did this for her. That we only wanted to spare her any more pain.” She patted his arm and moved away to seal the last box. “Vicki, would you take this out to the truck for me, please?” She handed it to her other daughter, then stood up on her toes and pressed a kiss against Tyler’s cheek. “We’ll see you Saturday night, dear.”
After they had gone, he stood in the now empty room, listening to the sound of the front door closing. He remembered the pain etched on Libby’s face as she’d realized he and her mother had cleared out the nursery.
“She’s my first and last love,” he said out loud. “From that first time I saw Libby dressed in a pink snowsuit, her hair pulled back in braids, I knew I was going to marry her when I grew up. As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t anyone else. She was the first girl I ever kissed, my first lover. I don’t want to lose her.”
He glanced at the clock to check the time. No matter what his mother-in-law had said about leaving Lib
by alone, he was only going to give her another half hour before going out to look for her. Knowing Libby as well as he did, he figured she was at the park a few blocks away.
He had an idea tonight they were going to have the fight they’d never had. But maybe it was for the best if he wanted to get his old Libby back.
LIBBY WAS INDEED at the park, with her coat buttoned all the way up to her chin to ward off the cold, although she was so angry she really didn’t feel the chill. She sat in a swing, using her foot to push it back and forth.
“Why can’t they leave me alone?” she muttered. Why did everyone have to tell her how she was supposed to lead her life?
It might have something to do with their loving you so much.
Her head whipped one way, then the other to find the source of the voice—the same one she had heard that morning.
“I refuse to believe there’s a voice talking to me inside my head.”
I am not exactly talking to you inside your head. Oh, my, you women are difficult.
Libby stilled. “All right, what’s the joke?”
A heavy sigh preceded the next statement. There is no joke. I have been sent here to help you. From what I have seen so far, my dear, you need a great deal of assistance.
She looked around, but could see nothing in the twilight. Not a shadow of a person standing nearby. She was alone in the park. There weren’t even any bushes nearby that could hide someone who might want to play a cruel trick on her.
“Fine, my imagination has decided to take a vacation and fly to la la land,” she said. “Now I’m talking to an invisible man.”
What I am is an entity sent to help you.
“Which is probably another word for a doctor sent by my parents or my husband,” she muttered, pumping her legs back and forth to get the swing going.
I am here strictly for you. The deep sigh was heard again. Women are so difficult to deal with. The last woman I assisted was positive I was from outer space. I blame the media for all these fantasies.
“Oh, I get it. You’re my guardian angel. How comforting that thought is. It’s a good thing I’m out here alone so no one can see me talking to myself.”
Bells, Rings & Angels' Wings Page 2