Chapter1: When Emma Shattered
Emma McAvoy heard the squeal of tires against the tar as she hung the new bed sheets on the clothesline. When the panel truck hit his tractor coming around the corner on Cottonwood Lane the ground beneath her feet shook with the impact. The wicker clothes basket dropped from her hip, falling onto its side as clothes pins spilled and scattered in the grass beneath a wave of pale lemon cotton. Emma ran towards the sound, her plaid barn jacket open to the crisp September air but by the time she arrived Frank was already dead.
The ambulance had just arrived when Nora McHale came around the bend in her green Karmann Gia. The silk scarf she wore over her perfectly placed light brown hair slid down around her neck covering the short string of pearls at the collar of her camel colored cashmere coat. Nora slid her over sized sunglasses off when she saw the state police redirecting traffic as they worked to clear the scene of the accident, Nora glanced at Toby, smoothed his hair and reeled down the driver’s side window. She explained to the officer that she lived on the five acres next door to the McAvoy’s farmhouse and the trooper motioned to let her through.
Rescue workers were pulling Emma away from her husband’s body as she struggled to stop them from covering his face. The driver of the panel truck was sitting at the edge of ditch with his head in his hands as one of the officers scratched notes on pad. Nora parked on the shoulder, turned off the engine and unbuckled her seat belt, “Stay here Toby,” she said tying her scarf beneath her chin and pressing her lips together in the rear view mirror before stepping onto the shoulder of the road. Her high heels sank into the damp ditch as she waded through the weeds and touched Emma’s shoulder urging her come away. Emma’s knees buckled and Nora held her until the officer returned with still more questions.
Toby stood on the driver’s seat, his small fingers splayed like soft, padded starfish against the drivers side window as Nora lifted a small girl from the tall weeds near Emma’s feet. She wore a red wool coat, knit red mittens and she cried so loud that Toby heard her clearly inside of the car. Nora hurried back through the ditch and opened the car door, Toby quickly moved to the passenger seat as his mother slid the hysterical child onto the driver’s seat. “I’ll be right back,” she said closing the car door a second time.
When the car door closed the girl let out a deafening shriek and Toby covered his ears as she stuffed her mitten covered fingers into her mouth and sobbed. Toby hated to cry but when tears spilled down the girls cheeks and she called for her father, Toby felt the tell tale knot accumulate in his throat. He bit down hard on his lower lip kneeling on the passenger’s seat, straining to see his mother through the rear window of the car purposely avoiding looking at the girl. He couldn’t see anything but the ambulance as its red lights swiped across the interior of the car at regular intervals. The longer the red strobe coupled with the girl’s mournful cry, the more Toby felt sure he would vomit. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his saliva tasted of metal. Toby opened the passenger’s side door, lowered his head and threw up. Closing the door, he slid to the floor of the car, laid his head on the cool leather seat and covered his ears.
The girl slid to her bottom in the driver’s seat and cried staring at him then shoved her mitten clad fingers back into her mouth stifling her noise level. With her mitten still in her mouth her decibel level settled to a melodic, rhythmic whine, Toby peeked out from the crook of his arm and found her eyes fixed on him. Warily they held each others gaze, he afraid she would shriek and she afraid he would vomit.
Nora returned to the car and said that Grace would be staying for a while.
“She’s in your kindergarten class, Toby,” she said, glancing at him.
“I know,” Toby said distantly as Grace shoved her mitten into her mouth even farther and cried even harder looking out the rear window as the car pulled away.
Nora carried Grace upstairs to Toby’s room and tried to console her but Grace only cried harder and refused to take off her coat and mittens. Nora gave up brushing her fingers through Toby’s blondish brown hair, still streaked from the summer sunshine. “Just stay with her, will you Toby I need to find your Father…holler if you need me,” she said.
Grace stood in the middle of the room crying for what seemed to him to be an eternity. There were moments when Toby was sure she was going to cry herself to sleep standing up. “You can take a nap if you want,” Toby offered. Grace blinked back with heavy eyes then she climbed on top of Toby’s bed to lie down. She pulled one mitten off comforting herself by sucking her thumb. Toby pushed his hands into his pockets and frowned at her thumb sucking but felt pleased that she was at last quiet. He crossed the room to the bay window that over looked the Mississippi and climbed onto the window seat then sprawled on piles of pillows picking up a book.
Grace had turned her head and watched him cross to the other side of the room and stretch out with his book. After several minutes of thumbing through pages Toby put the book down, tightened the laces on his tennis shoes and jumped across the room as far as he could. Grace sat up to see where he landed, and smiled at him with her thumb still in her mouth. Toby smiled back and jumped again. Her eyes light as she pulled her thumb out of her mouth and said, “do it again, Toby.”
Nora set her tea cup on the long narrow table in the upstairs hallway. She paused briefly to straighten the oil painting she purchased through a London auction house then peeked into Toby’s bedroom.
The light from Toby’s aquarium bathed the room as the aerator filled the air with a gentle hum and the gurgle of wet, popping bubbles. Nora glanced in to find the trundle bed she had tucked Grace into empty. She opened the door wider and stepped into the room peeking into Toby’s bathroom, walk in closet then around the floor. “Grace isn’t in bed,” Nora whispered when John appeared in the doorway. As Nora stepped closer to the bed she noticed Grace fast asleep in Toby’s bed and Nora’s lips made the letter O.
Nora crossed the room reaching for the covers to move her when John caught the tips of her fingers, drawing her away. “Let them be,” he whispered, his hand pressing against the small of her back as he kissed the tips of her fingers, guiding her away.
Nora frowned at him and hesitated, “I just don’t think,” she started.
“They’re fine,” John reassured.
Nora glanced at her husband then back at their son, “but John,” she whispered, almost scolding.
“Its fine, Nora,” he said, drawing her out of the room and quietly closing the door.
Nora started to object but John kissed her lips softy, collecting her tea cup and whispering, “come to bed, Nora.”
