Free Song of Renewal by Emily Sue Harvey Page A
Authors: Emily Sue Harvey
something?”
Liza smiled tiredly. “No, but thanks. I’m good.” Her rumbling stomach reminded her that she and Garrison had not eaten since early that morning. With the midday funeral, emotions had run high, driving back appetites. Vaguely, she watched Penny, dear Penny, leave.
Garrison’s smile was warm and welcoming as he sat beside Gwen on the sofa and, heads bent together, they went over pertinent data. He signed each of the documents.
“Thanks, Gwen,” he said softly, gratitude and apology vibrating from his deep voice. “I’m afraid I’m not much good at handling business right now.”
She shook her head. “No problem. I’m at your beck and call 24/7.”
Then she smiled encouragingly at Liza, who’d taken a chair across from them. Gwen apologized for intruding and Garrison
apologized for his phone’s inaccessibility. Liza noted his openness and camaraderie with his assistant, and everything in her heart and soul keened for even a morsel of it. Aloneness attacked her anew.
Shut out. I’m shut out . The awfulness of the thought hung there, palpable and terrible. I…am…shut…out.
Penny returned, carrying a bag and drink tray. She placed the drinks and sandwiches, Wakefield favorites, beside their respective tables.
“Thank you,” Liza said, her eyes moist. In that moment, Penny’s being there elicited a primeval, surging gratefulness, one that brings one to one’s knees. “Here.” She reached for her purse.
“No,” Penny insisted. “Please, Mrs. W., let me do this. I’ve saved most of my allowance lately. No big deal.”
“But Penny – .”Garrison, too, reached for his wallet.
“No,” Penny persisted desperately. She shook her head. “Please, I want to do this. There’s so little I can do.” Her voice broke. “Don’t you see? I can do this.”
“Excuse me,” Garrison murmured to Gwen and moved to sit on the other side of Penny, his gaze tangling with Liza’s in a moment of affinity. “Of course you can do this, Penny. We appreciate it from the bottom of our hearts, don’t we, Liza?”
“You bet,” Liza agreed.
Garrison spoke gently. “It’s just – look, can’t I repay you at least?”
“No.” Penny looked at him and her tear-brimmed green eyes seemed bottomless. Liza’s heart nearly broke when she saw Garrison’s moisten, too. “Please,” Penny whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek and her trembling hand swiped it away. “I want to do this. You see,” two more huge tears spilled over, “it’s like I’m doing it for Angel.”
Garrison gave a big, watery smile. “I get it.” He reached out to hug the thin shoulders and rasped, “Thanks, Penny.”
“You’re so thoughtful,” Liza added, blinking back tears. “Thank you.”
Liza peeled the wrapper from the sandwich and took a couple of obligatory bites. She watched Garrison walk Gwen down the corridor. At the elevator, they talked intensely for long moments and then Gwen stretched up and hugged Garrison. The gesture was warm and Garrison’s arms returned the embrace.
Liza rewrapped the remainder of the sandwich, appetite gone. A tiny alarm shrilled inside her and a memory corked to the surface. She’d recently dropped by unannounced at the Wakefield Creations office, needing Garrison’s consultation on a benefit seating arrangement. Upon entering, she’d seen Garrison at Gwen’s desk, leaned over her shoulder in a conspiratorial way that seemed, in Liza’s wifely estimation, a bit too cozy. But working on graphic designs brought them into close contact, didn’t it?
So why did she feel so threatened now?
Because today was different. She felt vulnerable. Alone.
It wasn’t the chaste embrace; it was the spontaneity that tore at Liza’s heart. Why did Garrison behave so affectionately with Gwen when he refused even to tolerate Liza’s touch? To hardly ever even look into her eyes?
But she knew the answer.
Anger. She headed for the ICU to be with her daughter. Garrison blames
Liza smiled tiredly. “No, but thanks. I’m good.” Her rumbling stomach reminded her that she and Garrison had not eaten since early that morning. With the midday funeral, emotions had run high, driving back appetites. Vaguely, she watched Penny, dear Penny, leave.
Garrison’s smile was warm and welcoming as he sat beside Gwen on the sofa and, heads bent together, they went over pertinent data. He signed each of the documents.
“Thanks, Gwen,” he said softly, gratitude and apology vibrating from his deep voice. “I’m afraid I’m not much good at handling business right now.”
She shook her head. “No problem. I’m at your beck and call 24/7.”
Then she smiled encouragingly at Liza, who’d taken a chair across from them. Gwen apologized for intruding and Garrison
apologized for his phone’s inaccessibility. Liza noted his openness and camaraderie with his assistant, and everything in her heart and soul keened for even a morsel of it. Aloneness attacked her anew.
Shut out. I’m shut out . The awfulness of the thought hung there, palpable and terrible. I…am…shut…out.
Penny returned, carrying a bag and drink tray. She placed the drinks and sandwiches, Wakefield favorites, beside their respective tables.
“Thank you,” Liza said, her eyes moist. In that moment, Penny’s being there elicited a primeval, surging gratefulness, one that brings one to one’s knees. “Here.” She reached for her purse.
“No,” Penny insisted. “Please, Mrs. W., let me do this. I’ve saved most of my allowance lately. No big deal.”
“But Penny – .”Garrison, too, reached for his wallet.
“No,” Penny persisted desperately. She shook her head. “Please, I want to do this. There’s so little I can do.” Her voice broke. “Don’t you see? I can do this.”
“Excuse me,” Garrison murmured to Gwen and moved to sit on the other side of Penny, his gaze tangling with Liza’s in a moment of affinity. “Of course you can do this, Penny. We appreciate it from the bottom of our hearts, don’t we, Liza?”
“You bet,” Liza agreed.
Garrison spoke gently. “It’s just – look, can’t I repay you at least?”
“No.” Penny looked at him and her tear-brimmed green eyes seemed bottomless. Liza’s heart nearly broke when she saw Garrison’s moisten, too. “Please,” Penny whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek and her trembling hand swiped it away. “I want to do this. You see,” two more huge tears spilled over, “it’s like I’m doing it for Angel.”
Garrison gave a big, watery smile. “I get it.” He reached out to hug the thin shoulders and rasped, “Thanks, Penny.”
“You’re so thoughtful,” Liza added, blinking back tears. “Thank you.”
Liza peeled the wrapper from the sandwich and took a couple of obligatory bites. She watched Garrison walk Gwen down the corridor. At the elevator, they talked intensely for long moments and then Gwen stretched up and hugged Garrison. The gesture was warm and Garrison’s arms returned the embrace.
Liza rewrapped the remainder of the sandwich, appetite gone. A tiny alarm shrilled inside her and a memory corked to the surface. She’d recently dropped by unannounced at the Wakefield Creations office, needing Garrison’s consultation on a benefit seating arrangement. Upon entering, she’d seen Garrison at Gwen’s desk, leaned over her shoulder in a conspiratorial way that seemed, in Liza’s wifely estimation, a bit too cozy. But working on graphic designs brought them into close contact, didn’t it?
So why did she feel so threatened now?
Because today was different. She felt vulnerable. Alone.
It wasn’t the chaste embrace; it was the spontaneity that tore at Liza’s heart. Why did Garrison behave so affectionately with Gwen when he refused even to tolerate Liza’s touch? To hardly ever even look into her eyes?
But she knew the answer.
Anger. She headed for the ICU to be with her daughter. Garrison blames