The Sometimes Sisters(59)

She opened her eyes enough to see Dana and Tawny sitting on the floor in front of her, and then Brook moved to her other side and her arms joined Zed’s. She wasn’t worthy of her sisters’ care, of Zed’s love, and she damn sure didn’t deserve her precious niece’s concern.

“How long until he gets here?” Tawny whispered.

“You can all go. I’ll be fine.” She shut her eyes again and rolled up into a tighter ball. There were too many people there already, and she damn sure didn’t need another one smothering her almost to death.

“Five minutes,” Zed answered.

“He’s not kin. We should take care of her,” Dana said.

“But he needs to be here,” Zed whispered. “Until then we’ll just sit with her.”

“I’m not talkin’ to a preacher,” Harper muttered. “God don’t give a damn about me.”

“Annie would have my hide tacked to a big pine tree if I called a preacher,” Zed chuckled. “But honey, don’t you ever doubt that God loves you. Me and Annie found out years ago that we could worship our Lord without settin’ foot in a church building.”

Brook sat down on the other side of her and held her hand tightly. “Talk to me, Aunt Harper. Is this because I didn’t like Payton?”

“Has nothing to do with him,” Harper sobbed. The child didn’t even need to be there, seeing her so vulnerable. She should be strong for her niece, but all her strength was gone.

“I’m here,” a deep voice said from the doorway.

She looked up into Wyatt’s eyes as her sisters, niece, and Zed filed out of the room.

“Why did you come?” Her voice sounded like it came from a deep well, but then, that’s where her heart was, so it stood to reason the rest of her body would be there, also.

He picked her up off the floor and carried her to the bed. “Because Zed called me, and I’m glad he did. You do not have to do this alone ever again,” he whispered into her hair as he laid her down and stretched out beside her, holding her tightly against his body. “Why is today so tough?”

“It hits me on her birthday and on April 4, the day I signed the adoption papers,” she said between sobs. “But I don’t want to run anymore. I hoped by being here it would be easier, but facing it is so hard, Wyatt.”

“I know, sweetheart.” His warm breath went from her ear straight to her heart and melted part of the cold darkness lurking there. “Tell me what to do.”

She snuggled down even closer to his body. “Just hold me. Don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her.

The flashing numbers said that it was exactly five o’clock when she awoke, her legs tangled up with Wyatt’s and both of them fully clothed. Panties remained on the ceiling fan, and her suitcase was right where it landed when she threw it. But it was a new day, and Wyatt was sleeping beside her. So why was that ugly black cloud still hanging right above her head?

She eased out of the bed and out the front door. Bare feet and cold, hard gravel did not make good partners, so she stepped gingerly until she reached the grass. Cool dew covered every blade, and it was like walking on a soft velvet carpet all the way to the edge of the lake. She sat down and stretched her feet out until they were in the chilly water.

A vision of the enormous church in Dallas came to her mind. The baptismal font was fancy, with a huge mural of trees and flowers behind it. She’d worn a white robe and the preacher said that she was leaving all her sins in the water and would be a new creature when she arose from it. At ten years old, she’d often wondered how the water felt holding the sins of so many people and where it went when the preacher pulled the plug and let it all go. Did it wash into the rivers, where the sin jumped on people as they swam?

At twenty-six she knew it was simply a symbolic gesture, but, as she looked out across the peaceful waters of the lake that morning, she wondered if wading out into it would wash away the pain once and for all. One of the old songs that Zed hummed and sang as he worked in the kitchen came to her mind.

The lyrics talking about laying her burdens down ran through her mind. She started humming, and before long she was singing the words, saying that she felt so much better since she’d laid her burdens down. She stood up and took the first step out into the lake. On the third step, the water was up to her knees and one of her favorite Jamey Johnson songs followed the old gospel tune. She thought of her grandmother as she sang the lyrics in her head, saying that she was telling the world goodbye and that her new life began with death. Had Harper’s new life begun with her granny’s death? She stopped singing when she was waist-deep in the water.

“Oh, Granny, did you die so that I could find peace?” she whispered.



Zed had just lit his first cigarette of the day and sat down on the bench outside the café when he caught a movement down near the lake. Some crazy fool was wading out into the cold water. Then the dark clouds across the moon shifted and lit up Harper’s blonde hair, and he threw the cigarette on the ground and began removing his shoes. By the time he got the first one off, she was waist-deep and holding her hand up toward heaven.

“Sweet Jesus, don’t let her do this,” he prayed as he tugged on the laces of his second shoe. “Take me instead. I’m ready to go. I’m old and I’ve lived my life and I’m ready to go see my precious Annie. Don’t take her now.”