Short Story Saturday: "Angel" Part 3

Read Part 1 & Part 2 to catch up.


Abigail Emsley's powerful uncle wants her "fixed" and ready to face the public, so he sends over Chad, a "guardian angel" of sorts to help her overcome her foggy past. In part two, Chad encourages Abigail to talk about the day her father died.


Angel: Part 3
Abigail tells of her father's death and stumbles over the details.

“Everything about that day was normal. I woke up early for class. I had breakfast with Mother.”

“What did you talk about?”

I consider, surprised the moment seems fuzzy. I didn’t think I’d ever forget anything about that horrible day. “We talked about Father. We expected them home before dinner.”

“Them?” Chad repeats, sitting up again.

Them? “My father and … and …”

Chad scoots to the edge of the couch. “Was he traveling with someone?”

I reach up and rub my head. Was he?  I picture myself collapsing in front of the TV, watching the fire consume the plane. Consume them.

I struggle back to reality, to replay events like an unconcerned bystander.

“It’s not important.” Chad’s voice sounds far away—and concerned. “Do you remember anything else?”

I try to focus on his voice and let it lead me back to the conversation, but no matter how I reach, the darkness continues folding over me.

“Abbey …” I sense the warmth of Chad’s image over my arm. “Abbey … Mrs. Emsley! Maddie!”

I close my eyes. I think I feel real fingers brushing down my arm and tenderly stroking my cheek.

###

“She isn’t over it. I can’t marry her.”

“Don’t give up, Culver. You’ve brought her through this. She needs you.” Mother’s voice betrays panic. I reach up to push open the door, noticing the grotesque thinness of my arm.

Culver barks with mirthless laughter. “Abigail doesn’t need a society marriage. Your brother does. I can’t marry her.”

I can’t lose Culver. Not this again.

Mother turns to me when I enter. “Abbey, sweetie, you shouldn’t be up—oh, Culver, catch her!”

When my eyes flutter open, I’m in bed, body hunched up in sobs. No wonder Culver Barrington doesn’t want me. No wonder Uncle Edgar sent an Angel. I’m a wreck. I can’t even talk about breakfast without breaking down.

I roll to my back and splay my arms, breathing deeply through my nose and forcing my body to relax. Today’s episode will mean several more days with the Angel, at least. And only if I can prevent it from happening again.