“It isn’t what I want from you that matters, Nick,” she said softly, and in the deep sadness that seeped through his eyes, she knew that he understood.

If Izzy stood very, very still, she could feel her daddy in the house. There was the faintest smell of him, the smoky smell that always made Izzy want to cry.

She hugged Miss Jemmie to her chest and inched out of her bedroom. She heard voices coming from her daddy’s new room, and for a split second, it sounded like it used to, before the bad thing.

But it wasn’t Mommy who was talking to him. Mommy was up with the angels, and down in the ground, and once you went to those two places, there was no coming back. Daddy had told her that.

She crept down the darkened hallway and went downstairs. Everything looked so pretty; there were fresh flowers in a vase on the table, and the windows were open. Her mommy would have liked the way it looked now.

She opened the big wooden front door and went out onto the porch.

A pink sun was hanging just above the tops of the trees, and she knew it would soon rise into a blue sky. But it was still too early, and a layer of soft hazy fog clung to the sides of the lake and peeked out from the trees. Her heart started beating faster and she had trouble breathing.

She cast a quick glance back inside to make sure no one was watching, then slipped past the screen door. Birds chirped from the high branches of a big old tree as she made her way across the wet grass.

Ducking into her hiding place in the forest, she stared hard at the fog. Mommy?

She listened really, really close. After a few moments, she heard it, the whisper-soft answer of her mother’s voice.

Hey, Izzy-bear, are yah busy?

Her eyes popped open. In the wavering gray fog, she saw a woman’s outline, golden hair and all.

I’m disappearin’, Mommy, just like you.

Her mommy’s voice was a sigh that sounded like the breeze. She felt her touch, a gentle ruffling of her hair. Oh, Izzy-bear . . .

For the first time, her mommy sounded sad, not happy to see her at all. She peered into the mist, saw her mommy’s blue, blue eyes through the gray. Red tears fell from her mommy’s eyes, like tiny drops of blood. It’s getting harder for me, Izzy, coming to see you.

Izzy felt a rush of panic. But I’m comin’as fast as I can!

She felt it again, the softness of her mother’s hand in the coolness of the breeze. It won’t work, Izzy-bear. You can’t follow me.

Tears stung Izzy’s eyes, blurred everything until she couldn’t see anything anymore. She blinked away the tears.

The fog was moving away from her.

She ran after it, following the pale cloud to the edge of the lake. Mommy, don’t go, Mommy. I’ll be good this time . . . I promise I’ll be good. I’ll clean my room and brush my teeth and go to bed without a sound . . . Mommy, please . . .

But sunlight hit the surface of the water and cut through the fog until there was nothing left of it.

She knelt down on the cold, gravelly bank and cried.

Nick limped out of his bedroom. It had taken him forever to dress in his uniform, and buttoning the collar was flat impossible. With one hand on the wooden wall for support, he made his way down the hallway. Clutching the slick wooden handrail, he went down the stairs, one painful step at a time.

His body felt as brittle as a winter leaf. Sweat crawled across his forehead and slid in cold, wet streaks down his back.

It was a miracle that he reached the bottom of the stairs without falling or puking. Still holding the banister in a death grip, he paused, sucking in air, trying to keep the bile from rising in his throat. Tears stung his eyes from the effort.

He blinked and forced the nausea away.

When he reopened his eyes, he noticed the changes Annie had made in his home. A fire leaped and danced in the gray river-rock opening. The two leather chairs had been shined up and now sat opposite the sofa, and between them the rough-hewn wooden coffee table glowed a beautiful reddish brown. On the table was a polished silver water pitcher full of fern fronds and white blossoms.

He had often dreamed of a room just like this one, filled with the sounds of laughter . . . instead of the hushed silences and sudden outbursts that had been Kathy’s way.

With a heavy sigh, he moved away from the stairway.

That’s when he saw his Izzy. She was standing beside the big windows that overlooked the lake; golden sunlight created a halo around her face. Time drew in a sudden breath and fell away, leaving Izzy as she once was, a porcelain doll dressed in pretty clothes, with satin ribbons in her braided hair.

Tags: Kristin Hannah Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net