American Blues: A Novel by Polly Hamilton Hilsabeck

Author:Polly Hamilton Hilsabeck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2022-01-31T00:00:00+00:00

NEW YORK’S LATE SPRING REMINDED Lily of that time four years ago, when she made her way back to the North out of a fresh wounding of America’s soul in the South. Lily marked being at Saint Philip’s as a time of reckoning. Between her arrival and departure, she felt as if she had moved from a naive place to a more knowing place among old souls and still older spirits, descended from the fertile depths of a plenteous continent many cultural miles away.

Try as she might, Lily could not remember her first Sunday with Saint Philip’s congregation, save for the sensual memory of, by now, familiar things: lemony furniture oil used on old altar wood, decades of incense caught in the maroon folds of the reredos drape, and, of course, the coffee hour that was much more than a coffee hour. Whatever empty space needed filling, all left Saint Philip’s weekly party with their hunger satisfied.

News of Ethan’s disappearance having passed from parishioner to parishioner on the eve of her departure, it was Lily’s turn to be the object of Saint Philip’s particular caring. And, since most of the church membership had been expecting to stand in as parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins at their unconventional bride’s wedding, Ethan’s vanishing meant a double loss. Her adoptive family blamed Ethan for making more bitter the already bittersweet parting, a testimonial to the love hunkered down deep in the hearts of those who loved Lily and whom she loved in return.

On her goodbye weekend, however, Lily’s emotion flattened, spiking only to remonstrate about her missing fiancé. Undeterred, Rodney remained patient like the knobby trees dispensing wisdom outside Lily’s window: Leaves would reappear; the dead season would not last forever.

The mechanical activity of packing up Lily’s apartment temporarily relieved the heaviness that had rolled in and settled in the place left by Ethan’s absence, now going on a week. Taking her request seriously, Rodney appeared at Lily’s door late Friday afternoon with packing tape in one hand and a quartet of her favorite lavender roses in the other. Together, they worked their way around Lily’s studio, boxing pieces of her life. Each closed and secured box sealed the finiteness of being sheltered at this address of circumstance and identity.

“I may not have to call in favors from friends, after all,” said Lily, appreciating Rodney’s focused effort. “You’ve obviously had drayman experience in some former life.”

Rodney chuckled. “Moving office, as well as body and soul from Birmingham to Atlanta padded my résumé a bit,” he said. “I’m just glad you were willing to accept my offer of help.”

“Are you kidding? I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing, Lily. But we do owe it to each other to find a stopping point, so we can go grab a bite to eat. You hungry?”

“Oh, yeah. Food. I forgot what that was this week.”

“I snooped in your refrigerator. Looks like you’re reducing inventory for the move.”

“Well. That, too.”

“How about we blitz that bank of kitchen drawers and then get cleaned up.

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