The Lake House (45 page)

“She was an angel.”

Heather softened her tone. “She was human. I was a stranger, and you cared for me more than anyone ever has. I can’t imagine how much you would’ve given your own flesh and blood.”

A meteor shot across the sky, its red tail streaked with orange.

Victoria heard her father’s voice: “When a star dies, it puts on its final and greatest show.” She was eight years old again, curled into her daddy’s arms, watching the meteor shower. In her heart, she knew that the angels had created the brilliant display of shooting stars just for her. But now Victoria understood
that the world didn’t revolve around her. Angels didn’t make the stars die for her entertainment.

Annabelle’s smile flashed through her thoughts, and rage filled Victoria. It bubbled from her gut and grew into her throat. “You had everything. You were about to marry Tommy. Why did you hurt yourself? Why did you leave me?”

Heather jumped away, but when Victoria bent over, sobs racking her body, Heather wrapped her arms around her shoulders and laid her head on Victoria’s back.

“She had everything,” Victoria cried. “I don’t understand why she took that chance.”

Heather rocked her. “I don’t know if you ever will. But you have to let her go. She can’t come back, and you have people who need you right now.”

Victoria’s sobs echoed through the woods and then there was silence. Occasionally, Victoria whimpered and Heather squeezed tighter. She petted Victoria’s soft hair and brushed the tears from her smooth cheeks. “You know,” Heather whispered, “without you, I don’t think I would’ve made it through this summer.”

Victoria took Heather’s hand and held it to her heart. “Thank you.”

The two women sat in silence holding hands. They listened to the sound of the lake lapping against the shore, the crickets in the woods, and the wind tickling the leaves. Molly had always lived her life for the present moment, Victoria thought. She didn’t need more than to love her family and take care of her house. No matter what went wrong, she was content. And if she died tonight, Molly would leave this life without regrets.

“Molly told me once, ‘I don’t pray for perfection in my life. I
ask for the humor and courage to see everything I receive as the way it’s supposed to be,’ ” Victoria said.

Heather laughed. “God, I’m not even close to that point.”

Victoria patted Heather’s arm. “I know, baby. I’m an old woman and I’m still working on it. So you have something to look forward to.”

“Besides wrinkles, aches and pains, prolapsed bladders, and hanging breasts?” Heather said.

“Don’t forget about the gas from peppers. You can use that one as a weapon against uninvited guests.” She bumped Heather, and they laughed.

The stars twinkled in the night sky. Victoria pictured Annabelle, in her silver dress, dancing among the angels. The smile that had lit up a room, in Victoria’s mind, now gave the stars their ability to shine. Heather was right. Victoria would never understand why Annabelle did what she did. The guilt Victoria carried might never subside, but it had been Annabelle’s choice, and Victoria couldn’t change what had happened. She placed her hands over her heart.
Good-bye, baby girl. Grandma loves you.
She opened her hands and let Annabelle go.

Victoria stood. “I’m going to gather a few things and head back to the hospital. Would you like to join me?”

Heather brushed the dirt from her shorts. “Let me change and I’ll drive.”

They climbed down from the tree house and Victoria went into the Jacobses’ home. She packed a bag with personal items: toothbrush, Pond’s cold cream, deodorant, bobby pins. As she opened the dresser drawers to gather nightgowns and underwear, she noticed the Bible next to Molly’s jewelry box. Victoria picked up the old leather book and turned the gold-tipped
pages. Victoria found a yellowed booklet inside. The cover read:

A Prayer Book for Soldiers and Sailors

PUBLISHED FOR THE ARMY AND NAVY COMMISSION

OF THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH

BY THE CHURCH PENSION FUND

20 Exchange Place—New York

1941

Victoria cradled the booklet to her heart. So long ago, she’d been a girl who prayed for the sailor she loved and then left when he returned. After all these years, she’d found her way home.

T
he lights in the waiting room were dimmed. Empty doughnut boxes lined the tables along with half-filled coffee cups and creamers. The irregular rumble of snores came from blanket-covered figures. Sarah sat awake, her hands working the yarn.

Joseph stood and rushed to Victoria as she walked through the door. He placed his hands on her arms and face, like a father checking for broken bones after his child has fallen from her bike. “You’re okay?”

Victoria touched his face. Her fingers ran along the fan of wrinkles around his eyes. “I’m okay. Any news?”

“She’s still in surgery; it will be a few more hours as they close, but the prognosis is good. The doctor said she’ll be in the ICU for at least a week. He’s upbeat about her recovery, but she’ll
need to go to a rehabilitation center. Bill and the kids are making arrangements now,” Joseph said.

“But she’s alive.” Victoria placed her hand to her lips and said a silent thank-you.

Sarah looked up, frowned at Victoria, and then focused her attention back on her knitting. Victoria released Joseph’s embrace, walked to Sarah, and sat beside her.

“Friend,” she said, and placed her hand over Sarah’s work. Victoria lifted the Bible from the bag of clothing. “I thought you might take comfort in this.”

Sarah looked at Victoria.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to be there for you.”

T
om hadn’t been in the room. Heather walked through the empty halls looking for his tall frame. The waiting area downstairs had emptied; only one person remained, an ice pack covering his swollen ankle. Heather walked outside and found the blue truck, but Tom wasn’t in the cab.

On the fourth floor, she found him. He stood by a large window, looking into a room that held five new bundled babies. Each child wore a pink or blue knitted cap.

“So this is where all that yarn goes. Do you think Sarah snuck up here and placed them on their heads as they were delivered?” Heather asked.

Tom faked a smile. “Yeah, knowing Sarah, she probably did.”

His shoulders slumped, and his eyes looked tired. Heather realized what Victoria had said. Tom had been engaged to Annabelle.
He’d lost the love of his life. It must’ve been hard for him to open himself to Heather, and she’d rejected him.

“You look exhausted. Why don’t you go back to Nagog and get some sleep? I’ll watch over them,” Heather said.

He didn’t look at her, but he nodded. “I think I could use a few hours of rest, but I’ll wait until she’s out of surgery.”

He walked toward the elevator and pressed the button. The doors opened and he stepped inside.

Her foot stopped the doors before they shut. “Tommy, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I hurt you. I know this isn’t the time, but I was ashamed of something I did that day. I couldn’t face you. I know I can’t change what I did, but if you need anything, I want you to know that I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Heather.” Tommy looked at the floor and stuck his hands in his pockets.

The door shut and Heather walked to the window. A baby boy had opened his bright blue eyes. He stared at her as he scrunched his nose and wiggled in his blanket. Heather pressed her fingertips to the glass.

New life. All possibilities open to him. Nothing has been decided or predetermined.

Heather thought about her situation. She had a new beginning. She might succeed at her new job, and then again she might not. As for a romantic relationship, she was alone, but for the first time in her life she had family and a home.

C
lick
. Once again the staple gun jammed as Heather shot it against the green wire.

She had returned from her round-the-world trip to snow-trimmed roofs lit with colorful Christmas bulbs. Small pine trees were decorated with garlands of tinsel, and sparrows balanced on the evergreens’ branches while they pecked at popcorn and cranberries that had been strung. The neighborhood had been transformed into Santa’s village.

Family members had come to visit today for the party later. Buzzed on sugar, the great-grandkids of the neighborhood bashed each other with snowballs until their clothing dripped with slush. Heather could smell apple cider mulling in Sarah’s kitchen.

Victoria had given her a box of ornaments and lights. Heather planned to buy the biggest tree she could fit in her living room. A fire would crackle while she drank eggnog and hung ornaments. After she trimmed the branches with a thousand white lights, she’d crawl under the tree, take in the pine scent, and watch the twinkle in the colored balls.

She wanted a gingerbread house on her coffee table and a stocking hung from her mantel. On Christmas morning there’d
be shiny packages with big bows under the tree that she’d bought for the people she loved.

With her feet balanced on the stepladder, she pressed with both hands against the tool’s handle, but still the staple wouldn’t release. Unsupported, the light string fell to the deck, the colorful bulbs illuminating the fresh snow. She swore as she shook the tool and squeezed with her mitten-covered thumbs.
Kerchunk
. A staple flew and bounced off her French doors.

“Problems?” Tom asked from behind.

Heather jumped, nearly falling off the ladder. “Tommy . . . you scared me. I didn’t hear your truck.”

“I put the rusted baby down.” He patted the blue vehicle she’d seen the day Molly had gone into the hospital.

She shook the staple gun. “Nice upgrade, but I’ll miss the rattle now that I’m home again.”

He came onto the deck and grabbed the staple gun from her. “I heard you were coming home early. Were you tired of the heat in Egypt?”

“You’ve been reading my column. Or did you watch my video blog?” She stepped down from the ladder.

He opened the spring-fed compartment, removed the crooked staples, and closed the gun. He lifted the lights above his head and secured the strand to the wood. “It wasn’t by choice.”

“Of course not.” Heather bent and grabbed the wreath that had been lying on ground. She placed the hook over her door and fluffed the greenery. “I finished my work ahead of time so I could come home early for Molly’s party. My editor understood.”

Tom grabbed a second light string and climbed the ladder. “Along the trim?”

“Please.” Heather glanced at his strong backside. “So you visited the website under duress?”

“Victoria e-mailed it to me every day.”

“Oh, and she forced you to read it?” Heather teased.

Tom stepped higher on the ladder and continued to attach the lights to the house. “Okay, I admit, I found your adventures interesting.”

“And of course brilliant.” She smiled mischievously.

He looked down at her. “Well, haven’t we become conceited?”

“Well, at least I’m not a conceited ass.” She flashed him a smile. “I just know when I work my tail off that the results are generally admirable.”