Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1), Babette Jongh [books for 6 year olds to read themselves .TXT] 📗

“Your parents are in the cafeteria.”

I couldn’t bring myself to speak, afraid that if I opened my mouth I would begin to howl and scream, and not be able to stop. I clamped my lips together and nodded, and he seemed to understand it was the best I could do. I felt him shift his weight on the bed. Then he took my hand in one of his. He smoothed my hand out straight against his palm, threaded his fingers through mine and stroked slowly down to my fingertips. Over and over again his hand caressed mine, until, with his body blocking the harsh slats of light from the window, I was able to fall asleep.

*

The day of Melody’s funeral was the most beautiful autumn day I had ever seen. I didn’t know whether to be thankful or angry. Melody deserved sunshine on the day her loved ones told her goodbye, but part of me wanted the sky to weep with us, to be as dark and cloudy and turbulent as my thoughts.

Only a few wispy white clouds floated, phantom ships in a cerulean sea, past the ancient Mimosa trees that towered over the open grave.

Melody’s white casket had shiny gold rails along each side. Pink roses covered the smooth polished lid. Their powerful, sweet scent reached me where I stood on the spongy cemetery grass, lost in a sea of mourners.

Ben and the children sat in the first row of chairs by the dark abyss that would swallow Melody and take her away from us forever. Melody’s parents sat beside them. Lois’s nose was red from crying. Herb stared ahead, his expression stoic, his shoulders hunched, his arms around Amy, who sat in his lap swinging her legs with impatience.

I could tell Lois had dressed the children and made sure their hair was neatly combed. I wished someone had done the same for Ben. His dark blonde curls stood unruly and wild around his dazed face. Ben’s parents sat directly behind him. His dad kept one hand on Ben’s shoulder.

Ben and Melody’s two oldest kids sat on each side of Ben. Jake, the twelve-year-old who’d been born the year I moved to New York, kept his mouth set hard between his teeth. Maryann, born the year I danced my first solo, held Ben’s hand, but leaned against her Grandma Lois’s shoulder and cried quietly. Amy squirmed to get down from her Grandpa Herb’s lap, bouncing, wiggling, wanting to run and play. Too young to know what was happening.

What had happened.

I dragged my eyes away from Mel’s family and noticed the tall, still figure standing several yards away, near the edge of the crowd.

Ian.

He looked at me, and even from that distance I could see the compassion on his face. The tears I thought I’d conquered once again filled my eyes.

A handful of police officers in dress blues held their hats over their chests, heads bowed. Jack McKenzie, a classmate and one of Ben’s best buddies, glanced up. Sunlight made his buzz-cut blond hair look almost white.

Jack had come to see me in the hospital. He had questioned me about the accident then told me that the guy driving the truck had apparently suffered a heart attack and lost control of his vehicle. Jack hadn’t asked whether Melody had died right away, or slowly, in agony and despair. He had patted my hand, then sat by my side in the hospital room, watching some stupid reality show until I fell asleep.

That all seemed so long ago, as if Melody’s death had catapulted us into some time warp that would make this new, horrible reality last forever.

After the service, I walked back to my parent’s car with my mother on one side of me and my father on the other. Halfway there, I was nearly tackled from behind as two little arms flung around my thighs.

Grateful for Amy’s small body pressed against my legs, I turned and knelt down.

Amy slung her arms around my neck. “I have new shoes,” she said, her breath hot and damp in my ear. “My mommy died, so I have new shoes to wear to the foo-neral.” Her little baby voice strangled my heart, and I struggled not to cry as she held her foot up for me to see one of her shiny new patent leather shoes. “Won’t she love them when she comes home?”

“Your mama loves you. Forever and always.” I kissed her bow-shaped mouth, her rosy cheeks. The familiar smell of strawberries and little girl wrapped around my heart and squeezed. I tucked an errant blonde curl behind her ear. “And I love your new shoes.”

Amy planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek then turned to Ben, who’d been trailing behind her. He picked her up, and she laid her head on his shoulder. It had been a long day, and I knew it was way past her nap time. She would probably be asleep before they reached the car.

And she’d wake to a world without her mother.

A surge of guilt made me flush like I’d been slapped with a handful of stinging nettle. I knew I hadn’t made this happen, but if Melody and I hadn’t gone shopping...

I looked at Ben, and sorrow swamped guilt. My guilty feelings made Mel’s death all-about-me, when I’d secretly accused her of being self-centered. Mel’s death wasn’t about me, at all. It was about her children, her husband, her family, and their loss.

Ben cleared his throat. “You’re coming to the house after... after...”

I wondered if this was a polite way of asking me not to come. Maybe my cuts and bruises would be a painful reminder of how Melody had died. “Do you want me to?”

Ben gave a jerky nod, like the person working his marionette strings had forgotten to do the job for a second. “Of course.”

Then someone touched his arm. Ben turned away, and my mother took my hand. The next thing I knew, Daddy was driving us away from the cemetery,