Wish Come True by Eileen Goudge

Wish Come True by Eileen Goudge

Author:Eileen Goudge [Goudge, Eileen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-2305-5
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Ten

IT WAS A STANDARD LINE that Holy Name Cemetery, which boasted one of the best views in Carson Springs, was wasted on its residents. Tucked into a bend of the road that meandered up the hill to Pilgrim’s Peak, it was shaded by centuries-old oaks and honey mesquite and remained green year-round due to the stream that could be heard faintly murmuring through the trees. It was where Anna’s father and grandparents were buried as well as many of St. Xavier’s earliest parishioners, but since the fancy gated cemetery across town had lured away most of its business, the sight of picnickers was more common now than mourners. As she looked about at the modest headstones, many moss-grown and tilted askew, Anna couldn’t help being struck by the irony of Monica’s being laid to rest in obscurity.

The graveside service was brief, with only the immediate family and close friends in attendance. Jimmy Wycoff had set up a roadblock at the foot of the hill to hold the press at bay, for which Anna was deeply grateful. Her nerves were so raw that a squirrel scampering up a tree nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. Standing by the open grave, trying to hold her balance with her high heels sinking into the turf, she was conscious only of Marc’s hand on her elbow. Years before, her mother had signed her up for ballet lessons (which had succeeded only in making her feel even fatter and clumsier), where she’d learned to pirouette, eyes fixed on a single point on the wall to keep from growing dizzy. Right now, Marc was that point.

Father Reardon read a verse from Psalms, and she watched dry-eyed as the casket, gleaming mahogany with brass rails, was lowered into the ground. She felt as though she were seeing it all from a distance: Glenn standing with his hands solemnly clasped in front of him, the sun winking off his Rolex; Liz staring grimly ahead, in the grip of memories she clearly wished no part of; Betty looking anxious and befuddled, as though wondering what any of this had to do with her. As if in a dream, Anna stepped forward to pitch a shovel full of dirt into the grave, thinking as she did of when she and her sisters were little, the prayer they said every night before bed: If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Then they were drifting toward the parking lot, where everyone said their good-byes. The faces blurred together. There were only traces of perfume, the glimmer of earrings, flashes of sunlight off dark glasses as they pressed in. Only Laura stood out, her sweet smile a reminder that for all that was bad in the world there was an equal measure of good … and Finch, her somber gaze giving her the look of someone far older than her years.

She hugged Anna, murmuring, “Don’t worry. We won’t let anything happen to you.



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