To Tuscany with Love by Mencini Gail

Author:Mencini, Gail [Mencini, Gail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 1 and 1, 1
Publisher: Capriole Group
Published: 2014-01-27T00:00:00+00:00

The day of the Texas funeral dawned with low-slung clouds and, once again, the threat of rain. Meghan stood at her hotel window. The sight of the putty-gray clouds seemed appropriate. The rain had stolen April from them, and it was destined to carry her on her journey.

Hours and hours after the mangled remains of the beautiful child had been carted away, Meghan had found strength to string three words together. She had called Ed. Meghan’s words had cut her throat raw, yet she delivered them without emotion, the only way she could get to the end of the story. A freak accident. Couldn’t be helped. Blinding rainstorm. Chain reaction.

How could they bear this? First Karen. Now April. Ed didn’t speak.

Meghan had continued with the details.

When she had finished, dry, racking sobs took control. Soundless, jerking gasps shook her body.

Ed had hung up the phone without saying a word.

She would face him today. She knew he blamed her. Of course. She blamed herself. Spring break in Florida? Too crowded. Too many people. Too much drinking. Why hadn’t she taken April to the Caribbean, or the Bahamas, or Montana, or Tennessee, or Chicago? Why had she agreed to go where all the college students go? Why?

At the church, Meghan found Ed in a private room. He knelt by the closed casket. She walked up behind him, her eyes long since exhausted of tears. Wordless, Meghan rested one hand on the shoulder of his black suit. He didn’t speak.

A friend of April’s gave the eulogy. The girl spoke of April’s unabashed joy of life, her love for her friends, her mother, her aunt, and her father. The girl’s funny anecdotes prompted a dozen of April’s friends to walk to the front and share their memories, their love.

Through it all, Ed bowed his head. His hunched shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Meghan sat still, her hands clasped in her lap. She alternated between smiling—just a little—at the stories and pranks and offering silent, somber pleas to Karen for forgiveness.

Ed stood with difficulty. His white-knuckled hands gripped the front railing for support. He didn’t look at Meghan.

She climbed into the black limousine and sat next to Ed.

Neither one spoke.

At the graveside service, Meghan didn’t speak to anyone. She could cry no more. In her mind, she repeatedly asked herself the question, “Why wasn’t it me?”

After the burial, on the silent journey to the car, Ed raised one palm, signaling her to stop walking. “The next limousine will take you to your hotel,” he said. Then he sighed.

Meghan strained to hear the words.

“I want to be alone. Thanks to you, that’s what I am now. Alone.”

Meghan opened her mouth. She closed it. She knew he spoke the truth for them both.

“I want you to leave.” His head bowed.

Meghan watched him stumble to the door of the first limousine. He turned his head back to look at her.

“Ed, I’m—”

His hand rose to stop her. His eyes narrowed. A deep breath launched his words, and his solemn voice, like a poison-tipped sword, delivered her punishment.

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