“Hi,” a crystal-clear voice said from behind him.
Dax shifted in the seat and saw a beautiful little girl, her dark skin accented by the traditional spirit glow, and her eyes alight with excitement. She looked to be around ten years old, with full cheeks, a wide smile and several long braids tipped in vibrant-colored bows.
“Look, I’ve got my weight back,” she said, grinning. “And my hair!” She ran a hand down one of the braids and smiled. “Mama said I’d have long hair again, when I went to heaven. She was right, even if I haven’t crossed the whole way yet. And Ms. Adeline said I’ll get to see Mama again, and Daddy, and the kids at school. I’ll even get to watch the play, right?”
“Yes, you will,” Dax said, glad he could grant her request and trying his best to hide his own sadness at seeing her here, in this room, alone.
She nodded. “They promised me that, no matter what, they’d go to the fall program. We knew I wasn’t going to make it until then-the doctors said so-but I wanted them to go. My friends are going to sing my song.”
“Your song?” he asked.
“Yep.” She bobbed her head. “I wrote it while I was in the hospital watching the leaves fall outside my window. It’s a pretty song, I think.”
Dax smiled. “Yes, it is.”
“You’ve heard it?” she asked, her surprise evident. “How?”
“I’ve heard you singing it for the past few days,” he said, “while I waited for you to come see me. And you’re right, it’s a very pretty song.”
“So, what do I do? I can see Mama and Daddy getting ready to tell me goodbye.” She shifted her weight to one foot and peered past Dax, and he knew she was checking on her folks.
“Think of them, and of how much you want to see them, and you’ll go straight to them,” he explained.
“And I can stay with them for the next few days, right? Until my school program on Saturday, so I can watch all of my friends sing my song, right?”
“Yes, you can,” he said. “And if you need me, for anything at all, just think of me, and I’ll know your thoughts. If you need me to come to you, then all you need to do is think of that, and I’ll get there.”
“You’ll come hear me sing too, won’t you? It’s at Norco Elementary. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, I do,” Dax said. “It isn’t that far from here.”
“So you’ll come? The program is Saturday night, two days away. You’ll get to hear my song again if you come.”
“Well, then, I wouldn’t miss it.”
Angelle smiled broadly. “Oh, I almost forgot. Ms. Adeline said to tell you that-” She squished her nose as she apparently fought to remember something. “I knew I’d forget the name.”
“Was it Celeste?” Dax asked. Please.
“Yes, that’s it! Celeste. Ms. Adeline said to tell you that she was sorry, Celeste couldn’t come back right now, but that she may be able to come for my program to hear me sing.” She smiled brightly.
Dax sat down on the settee and swallowed thickly. She couldn’t make it through. Why not? What kept her over there? And away from him? “Did she say why Celeste couldn’t come now?”
The little girl shook her head, and her long braids swayed with the motion. “No, but I think she was just too tired. She looked very tired.”
Leaning forward, Dax stared into her glimmering black eyes. “You saw her? You saw Celeste?”
Angelle nodded. “Yes, she was there, in the middle part, before I met Ms. Adeline. She’s got beautiful long hair, doesn’t she? And it’s so blond that it nearly looks like gold. I really like the way it curls.”
“Did she say anything to you?” he asked. “Celeste? Did she know you were coming here, and did she say anything to you? Or say anything at all that you could tell me?” Something that would help him know how to help her?
“I only remember her saying one thing, but I didn’t know what it meant.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘I need him,’ and that was it. Just that she needed somebody. But Ms. Adeline told her that she was still too weak, and she needed to get stronger.”
“Did she say how long? How long until she’d be strong enough?” Dax asked.
“She said it’d be a few more days this time, and that made Celeste sad. I felt sorry for her because she really wanted to come with me. Maybe I could have helped her see whoever she needed to see, huh? Do you know who it is?”
Dax felt sick. “Yes, I think I do.”
“Oh, look, there’s my little sister with Mama and Daddy,” she said, turning her attention back to what was happening at her home. “I’m going to them now. Thank you for helping me, and I’ll see you at the show, right?”
“Yes, I’ll see you at the show.”
Dax watched her take a step toward the direction of her parents, then disappear. Then he let his head rest against the back of the settee in frustration while he looked at the ceiling and pondered why Celeste was so weak, and why no one, especially Adeline Vicknair, was able to help her through.
He swung out his arm and backhanded the tea service across the room. The pitcher clanged loudly as it pinged across the hardwood floor, as did the cups and the tray.
Placing his hands against his forehead, he scrubbed them down his face and embraced the aching throb overpowering his temples. It hurt like hell, and right now, it suited him fine.
He sat there in the stillness with his head cradled in his hands and realized that life really did suck. Then he heard a soft thunk on the table, then another, and another, and he moved his hands away and opened his eyes.
The tea service was back in place, the tray in the center of the table, pitcher perched on one side and two dainty silver cups on the other, as though nothing had happened at all. But something had happened.
He’d had enough.
He glared at the tray and contemplated tossing it again, but it would just find its way to the table once more. Even his anger couldn’t be sated in this damn room. “If you can’t send her back now, then at least help me figure out what’s happening to her, and how to help her stay.”
Then, while he stared, a small lavender card, similar to the one Adeline Vicknair had sent three nights ago, materialized in the center of the gleaming tray with his name written boldly across the top. Dax leaned forward, picked it up, flipped it over and read the single line of text, written in his grandmother’s definitive swirling script.
Patience, chère. I’m doing the best I can.
10
CELESTE PRACTICALLY jogged down the darkened path toward the middle. She hadn’t felt this energetic, this lively, this excited in a very long time, mainly because she knew that Adeline Vicknair would let her pass back through. Celeste had no doubt she was strong enough now. She didn’t know what had happened when she’d heeded the call of those voices, but whatever it was, it had strengthened her, and for that she was grateful. Plus, the crying had stopped, and she was grateful for that as well.
The only sound echoing from this passage now was her footsteps slapping against the cool stone as she ran. No sobbing. No screams. No pleading voices calling for her to come back. And the old saying was true-silence was golden-because their silence meant Celeste didn’t need to go back to them, not right now. Right now, she could go where she wanted, and where she wanted to go was…to Dax.
She entered the middle room to find Adeline Vicknair, glowing brightly, her long silver hair floating around her head.
The older woman clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth disapprovingly as Celeste entered, but her dark eyes sparkled. She wasn’t fooling Celeste; she was glad that she had returned, and she was almost as excited about letting her see Dax again as Celeste was excited to see him.