Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1) by Babette Jongh (inspiring books for teens txt) 📗

for the bounty spread before us. Most of all, we are thankful that You saw fit to spare the life of this beautiful child, Casey, so she might continue to live in Your service, and provide a loving light to those of us who must now survive the darkness without our beloved Melody.” Lois squeezed my hand then released it. “Amen.”

“Amen,” I echoed by rote, then sat there staring blindly at my plate.

Was Lois right? Was I spared so I could light the darkness left by Melody’s passing? Was my only purpose in life now to atone for her death? Not because of my jealous thoughts. I knew, realistically, my thoughts hadn’t killed Melody. But our shopping trip had been contrived for my benefit. She’d have been safe at home, with her husband and children, if not for me.

“Casey.” Lois laid her cool fingers on my arm. “Honey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I was just—”

“I know. It happens to me, too.” Lois withdrew her hand and pushed the plate of yeast rolls closer. “Something reminds me of Melody, then I’m reliving the past, and it becomes more real than what’s happening right now.”

I tore my warm yeast roll in half, but couldn’t imagine putting the delicious bread in my mouth, much less chewing and swallowing it. “Lois, can we talk before we eat? I just don’t think I can eat a thing until I get this done.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Lois turned her chair toward mine, and gave me an expectant look of hope mixed with fear. The unasked question shone in her eyes.

“Lois...”

She leaned toward me. “Yes, honey?”

“When we had the wreck...”

She scooted closer, her chair scraping on the linoleum floor. “Yes?”

“The truck that hit us...”

Lois bit her lip and blinked rapidly. “Go on.”

“We only saw it for a second. It came up over a hill, and it was just... there.”

Lois nodded, a desperate, I-hate-this-but-I-have-to-know nod.

“It hit us before we knew what was happening. The impact knocked Melody out. What I’m saying is...”

“Yes, go on...”

“She didn’t feel any pain. She didn’t have time to be afraid. I think all she had time to feel was a second or two of... surprise.”

Lois crumpled, and pitched forward into my arms. “Thank God.” She squeezed me tight. “Oh, Casey. You don’t know how relieved I am. I was so afraid she might have been frightened or in pain....”

“She didn’t feel a thing, I promise.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Lois released me and sat back, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin. “Are you sure? Because at the hospital they said something about her lungs....”

I couldn’t make up for Mel’s death, or for my jealous thoughts, but I could do this one thing for Mel’s mother. And later, I’d do it again, for Ben. I had never been good at lying, but I could do this.

Even though it meant that I could never tell another living soul the truth about what happened that night. I looked Lois straight in the eye, without blinking. “She didn’t die from that first impact, Lois, but she never regained consciousness after it. Her breathing just got slower and slower until it stopped. I tried to breathe for her, but I couldn’t... I couldn’t.”

Lois took my face in her hands, kissed my cheeks tenderly, and enfolded me in her arms again. “You did everything you could, Casey. I know you did. Sometimes God’s will is hard to understand, and He just decided He needed Melody more than we do. I’m just thankful we still have you. I love you like a daughter, you know. Always have.”

I released a sigh of relief and returned her embrace. “I love you, too, Lois.”

Thinking I’d done what I came here to do, I relaxed, clueless that I was about to be enlisted for something much more difficult. I shoveled-in a forkful of the delicious food, then noticed that Lois was sitting there as still as a little bird, watching me, her hands folded in her lap.

Chewing, I raised my eyebrows in question.

“Casey, I hate to ask, but I need you to do something.”

I swallowed. “What’s that?”

“I need you to talk to Ben. No one else has been able to get through to him. You may be the only person on earth who can stop him from self-destructing.”

*

I didn’t have time to go to Ben’s house after lunch because I had an afternoon of teaching ahead of me. But before noon the next day, I stood on Ben’s front porch. I soon gave up ringing the bell and pounded on the door Melody had painted such a rich, dark red.

Red for luck.

“Ben, I know you’re in there,” I screamed, ignoring the twitch of the curtains in the house next door. Mean old Edna Fitzpatrick, unable to mind her own business. “Open the door, Ben, or I swear I’ll throw this damn bench through the window!”

As if I could lift the heavy wrought-iron bench one-handed, I dragged it toward the window to show I meant business. It made a hideous screeching sound as its legs scratched a white line across the concrete porch. I was sweating like a pig despite the cool breeze, and my hair clung to my neck in strings.

I stood to give my back a rest, and noticed the front door stood open.

But I hesitated to go through it.

What could I say that would bring Ben back to his children? How could I help him when I couldn’t even help myself? I had no idea, but I walked inside anyway. Lifting damp strands of hair off my neck, I shivered in the dark, air conditioned house. Every curtain closed, the place looked like a cave. A dirty, messy cave.

“You’re a damn pushy little chick, you know that?” Ben’s slurred voice reached me from the shadowed den. I followed the sound, and stepped on something that crunched underfoot. I picked it up—a framed photo of Ben and Melody—and started to put the picture back on the piano where it belonged.

“Leave