Page 60
Story: Fallen Hearts (Casteel 3)
How many times in my deepest thoughts had I rehearsed the scene.
Luke would look at me and I at him and we would know the time had come to make our peace. We would go off together, I and the father I never had, and we would walk, silently at first. Then Luke would begin. He would tell me how bad he was when we had all lived in the Willies. He would confess his sins and apologize for his negligence. He would speak honestly to me and he would finally tell me that he had been unfair to dislike me simply for being born. He would beg my forgiveness and then I would beg his.
I would beg him to forgive me for my mad pursuit of vengeance, for trying to look just like his Angel Leigh and haunting him at his circus. And I would tell him once and for all that Tom's death wasn't his fault . . . it was mine
And then we would comfort each other and hug each other while the sun began to fall over the horizon and sink into the sea, and my heart would be so full of joy it would feel like it would bust.
We would walk back hand in hand, renewed, reborn.
Now I would walk alone and the words that should have been said would never be uttered.
The tears silently climbed over my lids and began their descent down my cheeks. Logan held me closer to him and we sat there quietly. Curtis brought me some water and then Tony appeared. I wiped my face and looked up at him. He shook his head and sat in the high-back chair across from us.
"It was a head-on crash. A drunk driver crossed the highway and ran smack into them. They were coming home from the circus site just outside of Atlanta when it happened. The lawyer says from the police report it looks as if they didn't know what hit them. The other driver must have been going ninety."
"Oh, God," I said. My stomach felt wobbly. It was as if dozens of butterflies had suddenly burst their cocoons and beat their wings within me. "What about Drake?" I asked.
"Thank God he wasn't with them at the time. They had a live-in maid and nanny, Mrs. Cotton. She's with the child now. Luke's wife had no brothers or sisters and only her mother is alive, but living in a nursing home."
"I've got to go immediately to Atlanta," I said. "To make the funeral arrangements and to get Drake. He'll live with us now," I said, turning to Logan. There was no opposition in his face.
"Of course," he said. "I'll go with you."
"I've already taken care of the funeral arrangements," Tony said. "Through this attorney."
I stared at him a moment. There were a dozen questions colliding through my mind, not the least of which was why the telegram came to him instead of to me, but I didn't feel like asking questions now. I wanted to set out immediately for Atlanta and get Drake.
"I'll have to contact Keith and Jane and . . . and Fanny," I said. "When will the funeral be?"
"Under the circumstances, I thought it best to be as soon as it can be," Tony said. "Day after tomorrow. Should give us enough time to see to any business problems and . . ."
"I'll meet with this lawyer tomorrow," I said. "And do whatever has to be done."
Tony stared at me for a moment and then looked quickly at Logan.
"Don't you think, considering your condition, you had better leave that business to us? fly down to Atlanta and--"
"I'm pregnant, Tony," I interrupted, "not sick or helpless. It's my obligation, my responsibility," I insisted. "I want to do all that I can now for Drake and . . . for Luke. I want to do it," I repeated, my eyes blazing.
Tony simply nodded. "Whatever, be here to help if you want me. Just call."
"Thank you," I said. "I'd better start calling my brother and sisters. Logan, will you make the travel arrangements, please?"
"Of course," he said.
"Use my office if you like," Tony offered. I nodded and went there to make my calls.
Keith and Jane took it as calmly as I expected they would. After all, they'd never really known Luke. They both wanted to know if I thought they should come down to Atlanta to attend the funeral, but I thought it was not necessary. After all, what was Luke to them, but a man who had sold them when they were little children. It was more important that they continue working toward their goals, staying in their new lives that were better than anything Luke had ever thought of giving them. They were relieved to hear me say it.
Fanny was another story.
"Pa's dead?" she asked after I told her the details. She sounded shocked, as if she needed to hear the whole story again before it seemed real. "How'dja know he's really dead? Maybe he ain't dead, Heaven," she insisted. "Maybe he's just hurt bad. Maybe--"
"No, Fanny. It was a fatal crash. There's no sense getting up false hope."
"Pa . . Oh, Jesus." I heard her sob. "I was goin' ta go see him soon, let him know how good I was gettin' on."
"The funeral's the day after tomorrow," I said. "I'm going down tonight to see after Drake."
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