Free Angel Song by Sheila Walsh Page A

saints? This was the comment that almost started the inevitable breakdown—complete with screaming and tears, Ann was sure—but she knew she needed to avoid that, at least until after these people left and she could be alone. So she tried to remember the words to “Eleanor Rigby.” How did that song start? Something about Eleanor at the church? The words wouldn’t come to her, but the process of trying to remember had granted her at least temporary self-control.
    Ethan had been like the pied piper of the crowd, because almost everyone began their good-byes right after his. Ann had never been so grateful to anyone.
    Now she was alone, except for Danielle, Tammy, and Keith. “These casseroles all go back to the church.” Tammy towel dried the last of the rectangular dishes and set it beside the other six or seven. “All the rest have names on the bottom.”
    “Right.” Danielle looked up from the notepad she was writing on. “I’ll drop those by tomorrow.” She looked toward Ann then and nodded toward the counter. “Those are the cards from flowers, et cetera, which I’m sure you’ll want to acknowledge.” She looked around the room. “All done?”
    “All finished here.” Tammy wiped the counter. “You’ve got our phone numbers, right? You know you can call either of us day or night, and we’ll be here for you.”
    “I’ve got ’em.” Ann looked toward the typed list that Danielle had hung on the refrigerator. “Thanks. For everything.”
    “That’s what we’re here for.” Danielle hugged her, and she, Tammy, and Keith walked her out to the driveway and bade her farewell.
    Ann was pretty confident that Tammy was going to stay until told to leave, and since she was ready to be alone, she set about doing just that. “Bless your heart, thank you so much for all you’ve done.” The “bless your heart” had been an intentional addition, as Ann had learned long ago that preceding even the bluntest comment with this phrase seemed to make it acceptable in southern society. Too bad Sarah wasn’t here to see this. She’d spent the last few years complaining about Ann’s increasing New York–ishness. What was it she’d said once when Ann was recounting the story of a conflict at work? “Annie, you’re getting downright Yankee-fied . ” Yeah, that was it. And she’d said it in a perfectly horrified voice, as if declaring Ann had the plague.
    Sarah.
    The thought almost knocked her to her knees. Sarah. She was gone.
    “Oh, no problem at all. I’m just so happy I could do something to help. Sarah loved you so much. I know she’d want me to look after you.” Tammy reached out and grasped Ann’s hands. “I bet Sarah is watching down on us and smiling right now. I’m sure she’s happy to see that we’ve become friends.” Tammy released her grip and started back toward Sarah’s house.
    Hmm . . . it might take some New York bluntness to get this one out of here . But Ann remained determined, at least for these couple of days, to be as polite as she was capable of being, for Sarah. “You know, Tammy, I’m really tired. I think I’m going to take a hot bath and call it an early night, okay?”
    “Oh, of course you’re tired. You go soak in a hot tub and relax. Get to bed early. That’s what you should do. Do you need me to stay for a while?”
    “No!” It came out harsh, but Ann couldn’t control it. “You’ve done . . . so much already. I think a little alone time might do me good.”
    Tammy looked doubtful but stopped walking and looked toward her own home. “Okay then, but you’ve got to promise you’ll call me if you need anything.”
    Ann held up two fingers, which she thought was like a Scout’s honor kind of thing, but having never been a Girl Scout, she wasn’t sure. “Promise.”
    “Well, I’ll see you in the morning, then. I’ll bring something over for breakfast.”
    Breakfast? Time for another round of diplomacy. “You know, I’m not much of a breakfast eater.