Stardust Miracle (16 page)

For years she’d been the support system whenever anyone had needed it. For tonight at least, Trey had appointed himself hers.

Her knight in shining armor.

In the front porch light, she saw Joy from across the street. Becky opened the screen door, feeling raw from the inside out.

“You heard,” Becky said.

Joy’s gaze flicked up at Becky and then at Trey. Her eyes widened, then her gaze shifted back to Becky and her forehead creased. “I can’t believe it. It’s horrible.”

Becky nodded her agreement, not telling her they’d been at the scene of the accident. Not ready to talk about that.

“It must’ve been terrible for you to see it,” Joy said, toppling Becky’s belief that she could keep it a secret. That no one had seen her going a little crazy by the accident site. “I won’t wake Cody. I’ll send him home after breakfast tomorrow, unless Sarah wants me to keep him longer.”

Becky nodded. “Thanks.”

“Sarah won’t want to talk to me now.” Joy thrust out a sandwich-sized baggy. “I had to bring this over. Give it to her.”

Becky took it, frowning. At first glance the baggy looked empty. Then she saw the pill in the corner.

“It’s a sleeping pill,” Joy said. 

“Sarah doesn’t take sleeping pills. Besides, she’s pregnant.”

“She does take them, but not often. We have the same GYN, and Dr. Johnson says Ambien doesn’t cross the placenta. I borrowed her last one a few weeks ago. I don’t know if she renewed the prescription, but I owe her one.” Joy gave Becky her mom frown. “Just tell her I gave it to you and she should take it. She needs to sleep tonight. When she wakes up tomorrow, she’ll be able to process this better.” 

Becky nodded. Satisfied, Joy nodded back. “This is really shitty,” Joy said, her voice thick. With a sniff, she headed back to her house. 

Becky turned to Trey. He stood there. Unmoving. Like a rock.
Her rock.
But also there for Sarah.

Gripping the baggy in her curled fingers, she put her arms around Trey’s neck and leaned on him. Her ear against his solid chest picked up the steady thump of his heart. His arms slid around her, his hands splayed on her back with gentle pressure.

They stayed like that for a moment, then she sighed shakily and pulled back. She looked up at him. “Thank you.”

He cupped his hand on the side of her head. Didn’t say anything. But his brown eyes darkened. With a soft breath and a loosening of his lips, he slid his hand to her shoulder. Then he turned and together they walked into the kitchen where Jerry was telling Sarah if she needed anything, she should call him or his twin brother.

Sarah shook her head, walking backward from him. “I wouldn’t bother Rob.”

“He needs to be bothered. He’s still alive.”

“He’s healing.” More tears spurted from Sarah’s reddened eyes, her voice hoarse with pain and sorrow and anger. “He shouldn’t have been deployed to Afghanistan a fourth time.”

“I’m with you there.” Jerry nodded, his eyes sad. “I’m with you.”

“It makes me so mad.” Sarah’s mouth trembled. Her nose was red now, and her eyes filled with tears again.

Becky stepped forward and hugged her. Behind her, Trey and Jerry muttered something, but she was murmuring something to Sarah, not realizing until the back door closed and Trey started to rub her back that she was singing
Angel
by Sarah McLachlan, a song she remembered from the American SPCA commercials. She didn’t realize she knew the words until she heard herself.

With that, her voice stumbled into silence. She lifted her head and so did Sarah, tears in her eyes and mouthing
Thank you.

Becky leaned forward, kissed her on her lips, then drew back. “Joy was at the front door. She’s keeping Cody until after breakfast tomorrow morning.”

Sarah nodded, silent tears seeping over her lower eyelids and down her cheeks.

“She brought a sleeping pill.”

“I don’t want—”

“She said it’s the same pill she borrowed from you a few weeks ago and won’t hurt the baby. Do you want me to call your doctor? I will.”

Sarah’s gaze flicked down to the pill in Becky’s palm. “I see it’s the same pill. Becky, I don’t—”

“You’re taking it.”

“But—”

“You’re taking it.”

“You won’t give up, will you?”

“Never.”

“You always did think you knew better.”

Becky remembered just a few weeks ago she’d been smug in her belief that she’d married the better man. “I’m wrong often. But not about this.”

Sarah nodded and stepped back, but then she staggered and Becky jumped forward to steady her.

“So stupid,” Sarah said. “So stupid.”

“It’s very stupid,” Becky said, knowing Sarah wasn’t talking about herself. “Life is stupid.”

Sarah drew away from Becky and stood on her own, her body shaking. Her face was the picture of anguish, her lips pulled back, her teeth bared. Tears still coursed down her splotchy cheeks. “How could this happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe in God anymore.”

“Shhh, shhh, shhh. Don’t you feel it?”

“What? What am I supposed to feel?”

“Marsh.” The words came out of Becky, as if someone talked through her. “He’s an angel now. He’s your angel.”

Sarah lifted her hand, curled it in a fist. “Stop! Don’t say that. I don’t want a damn angel. I want my husband.” Letting go, she socked Becky’s shoulder.

“Ouch.” Becky put her hand on her shoulder and stumbled back.

“Oh God.” Sarah sank to her knees on the kitchen floor. “I didn’t mean that.”

Becky’s shoulder still hurt as she knelt beside Sarah. “I know.” 

Life was messy. So was grief. Becky held her sobbing sister while Trey got a glass of water, took the baggy from her hand, then gave the water and the sleeping pill to Sarah.

Sarah took the water from him and then the pill. She swallowed both. Becky tried to pull Sarah to her feet but she wouldn’t get up. Sarah didn’t fight her, but she was inert. Still sobbing.

Becky didn’t know there could be that many tears in a person, though she remembered crying half the night after her mother died. She’d cried alone in her room until she’d gotten up and walked numbly to Sarah’s bedroom around three in the morning. She’d been comforted by her little sister’s sleeping presence.

Trey knelt down next to Sarah. “Let’s get you to your feet.”

Sarah looked at him blankly. He slid his left arm under her thighs, his right around her back, and got to his feet, making an ‘umph’ sound.

“Her bedroom?” he asked Becky.

“This way.” She led the way up the steps to the second floor, looking back a couple times to make sure Trey was okay. Sarah was taller than her. Normally slim, she’d gained pregnancy pounds. But there was no strain on his face, just the same grimness Becky had seen earlier. The same grimness that lodged inside her chest.

But he kept going up. One step after another. And with every step he claimed another tiny piece of her heart.

Chapter Twenty-four

Twenty minutes later, Sarah was breathing softly and evenly. Her sobs ended.

“Are you awake?” Becky whispered. She waited a moment, then rolled out of the large bed where she’d been lying next to Sarah.

The bed squeaked. On her feet, Becky went still. But Sarah continued to breathe evenly. 

Careful not to make any noise, Becky tiptoed out of the bedroom. The hall light was on, and she looked back at Sarah. Streaks of tears shone on her sister’s cheeks, not yet dried.

Becky glanced around the room. It
felt
as if Marsh were there. She almost expected to see sparkles. The air felt...electrified. But she saw nothing.

She didn’t know why the sparkles appeared, what they meant, and why she was the only one who saw them. And right now, she didn’t much care.

She turned away. Her trip down the stairs was slow. It wasn’t eleven yet, but her tiredness came from her soul – from unbearable desolation...and a question that couldn’t be answered. The same question Sarah had asked. The same question anyone asked when someone healthy and fairly young died.

Why? Why Marsh?

And an old question she hadn’t ever let go.

Why my mother?

After all, Becky knew many people she wouldn’t miss if they died. Many that no one would miss. She didn’t actively want them to die... But why hadn’t it been one of them? Especially when their only contributions to life seemed to be making other people miserable.

Marsh had been a great guy. A great husband. A great father. Maybe his occupation didn’t pay a lot – not yet, anyway – but he loved being a picker. He loved his family. For God’s sake, he loved his dog.

It didn’t make sense that he’d been taken.

Seeing his ghost had made it better for her. And there was a comfort knowing his soul wasn’t dead. After all, she’d
seen
him. The ghostly image was seared into her brain. 

And if
his
soul lived after he died, then her mother’s must be alive, too.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and tears welled in her eyes. Because even with the relief, even though it had been twenty-three years since her mom died, Becky still hurt. She still missed her mom. She still had a hole in her heart.

It didn’t matter that now she had proof there was an afterlife. And that had to mean there was a God, too. Or at least a higher power. But right this second, none of that clarity took away the grief.

Dead was dead. Cody would be devastated. Sarah already was devastated.

She would tell Sarah about her experience at the accident site later. Right now it wasn’t his ghostly self that Sarah wanted. It was his solid self. His blood beating through his veins. His warm arms holding her tightly. His voice telling her it was all a bad dream.

Becky blinked away her tears. The downstairs lights blazed. Trey must’ve left them on in case she came back downstairs. She turned off the kitchen light, then headed to the puppy room, wondering why he’d left that on, too.

Peering in, she saw Trey sitting on the easy chair that someone – Trey probably – had dragged into the dining room in case anyone wanted a puppy cuddle. Trey sat there now, his legs spread out in front of him. The black puppy slept on his lap. Trey’s head rested against the back of the chair, his eyelids closed.

Gratitude bloomed inside her and soothed some of the hurt.

“Trey?” she murmured.

His eyes opened and his head came up. He cupped the small puppy in his big hands and stood. The puppy squeaked a sleepy protest. Walking quietly for a big man, he took the five steps to Goldie and the other puppies, all tumbled together and sleeping. As he plopped the puppy between two gold-colored bodies, one animal rose to a sitting position. Not a puppy but the kitten. Awake but wary, watching them. Content to view them from a distance.

The kitten was aptly named Lucky – the lone survivor of a bagful of kittens thrown out of a window of a moving car on the highway just outside of the village. Unlike the puppies, Lucky hadn’t fully accepted Becky. Considering the kitten’s past, Becky didn’t blame it.

“Sarah’s asleep?” Trey stepped over the wooden barrier into the hall. 

Becky nodded. “I’m glad Joy popped in with the sleeping pill.”

“She’s going to have a rough time. Marsh was a good man.”

“The best. Thanks for helping out...and staying. I didn’t expect that.”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right before I left.” 

“I’m okay.” Her attempt at a smile was an epic failure. Instead she pushed her hair back from her face. She must look like a mess. Her hair flat from lying on it. Probably the mascara on her eyelashes was smeared, too. “Most guys wouldn’t have stayed. I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged and shifted his feet. Easy to see he was made uncomfortable with her second round of thanks. He was the kind of guy who did the right thing because it was the right thing to do.

Gratitude surged up inside her.

And lust. More than a surge. Like lava boiling in the pit of the volcano. Unexpected and overwhelming. 

Marsh was dead. There was nothing she could do to change that. But
they
were still alive. She wanted, no,
needed
to celebrate life. She needed to wallow in it.

Most of all, she needed to do the most alive thing there was – create another life.

She crossed her arms. That wasn’t going to happen. None of it was. He was going to leave, and she was going to try to sleep. More likely, she’d stay awake and wish Joy had given her a sleeping pill, too.

“Anything else I can do before I leave?” he asked.

She opened her mouth, intending to thank him and walk him to the door, but her arms uncrossed and words spilled out of her mouth. “You can make love with me.”

He stood motionless. Staring into her eyes as if trying to see into her soul.

If it worked, he was looking at her soul on fire. Her body on fire.

Her breath shuddered out of her throat and she swallowed. “Come into the bedroom with me.” A statement, not a question.

This was the second guy in two days.

And the most inappropriate time ever.

She was officially a slut.

And she didn’t care. She did not give a flying finger for what anyone might think. Her new friend and brother-in-law, her sister’s lover and husband, and a great father to his son...was dead. Her body abhorred the vacuum and the loss. So did she.

She held out her hand and it trembled. He looked down and didn’t take it.

Maybe he didn’t want her?

The thought was a pain in her heart.

A denial came fiercely. She didn’t believe it.

There’d been something between them way back in high school. A different kind of electricity from what she’d felt earlier. A charge between them. She’d felt the danger that came along with that, and had turned from it.

She wasn’t denying it this time. 

But he might.

The thought scared the hell out of her.

Right now she didn’t just want him. She
needed
him.

“I wasn’t planning on this,” he said.

“Neither was I.” Please, she thought.
Please.