Body of Ash (42 page)

He likes what he sees…

“Ms. Finch,” he greeted, “How are you feeling today?”

“Okay. Just a little tired,” she replied. Licking her lips, Marge watched as he crossed the room. His body was masculine, with thick defined shoulders. It was nothing for him to lift stacks of clean linens into the closet by the sink. “Are you real busy today?”

“Never too busy to not stop and see you,” he offered with an easy grin.

Sitting up straighter, Marge hoped her hair looked nice. All she had been given to maintain her beauty routine was body wash, toothpaste and a single comb. It wasn’t the easiest to work with. Still, she knew her greatest asset was her body. As long as she still had that, men would always come around. Since Brian wasn’t here, Marge needed someone new to focus on. The friendly orderly made for a nice distraction.

“What did you say your name was again?” she asked, this time allowing a flirtatious tone to enter between them.

Stopping, he paused, his eyes glancing towards the door. Once ensuring they were alone, he turned back towards her and appraised her body more fully. “You can call me Cliff.” His voice was smooth and velvety, reminding her of chocolate.

“Well, Cliff, I think you should call me Marge.”

Glancing at his manicured hands, Marge knew he would be perfect. 

59

KATIE

Saturday 4:10 PM

“It looks like the line is beginning to die down,” Will said
,
glancing through the rain dotted windshield.

Katie looked down at her outfit. Her father had taken her to Kohl’s so she could find something appropriate to wear to Brian Jones’s wake. Selecting a simple black pencil skirt and a button-down blouse, she knew it didn’t matter what she wore. Everyone would be staring. 

A week of sleepless nights left Katie exhausted. In the silence of her room, her mind forced her to revisit images of Brian’s death. Dreams, thoughts, flash backs – the events replayed in slow motion. Her dad tried to be a comfort, but their lack of relationship wasn’t easily healed. Even he played his part in her mother’s destruction – they all did. 

As she reached for the door handle, Williston pretended to straighten his tie.

“You don’t have to come with me. I know it’s hard,” his voice was strained. “I can go in by myself.”

For a moment she almost agreed – the fear of walking into the sanctuary was suffocating. The one time she asked her father to take her to Lucinda’s for a bite to eat, the diner’s patrons stared at her with hushed comments back and forth until she changed her order to go. The papers mentioned her involvement although not by name. Canaan was a small town. They all knew Katie was Marge’s daughter. Even though her mother was the one who committed the crime, guilt by association was the norm.

It’s difficult being judged for something you didn’t even do.

Williston assured her things would get better in time, but Katie had her doubts. No matter how many years would pass, she would still be Katie Elizabeth Finch, from nowhere special Connecticut. Her mother would still be insane and the pastor would still be dead. Brian would be dead everywhere.

Stealing a glance at her father, Katie shook her head.

There was one person she needed to talk to. If she failed now to make her amends, she never would. Opening the door, a wintry spray of rain coated her face as she rose to stand. Her ballet flats stepped into a puddle, soaking her feet.

Nothing about today can be easy.

Williston appeared at her side, covering them both with an umbrella. “One word from you and we’re out of there. Okay?” he said, his eyebrows forming a V as he studied her. 

“Okay,” she said simply.

Clutching his elbow, they scurried across the parking lot to the entrance.  A few people stood by the door, but Katie avoided making eye contact.  Even without meeting faces, she could feel the weight of their stares. She longed to blend in, to follow along without being noticed as the girl who failed to save the preacher from her demon of a mother. But Katie lost that world. Under their watchful gaze, she felt as transparent as an onion skin.

Williston nodded and said hello as he passed different members of the community. Despite his connection to Marge, so far his reputation didn’t seem affected. Perhaps his decision to distance himself early on was held in his favor. Katie, however, couldn’t escape the correlation, especially since she didn’t stop her mother from pulling the trigger.

A thin woman with a grey perm in full length rayon approached. From the disapproving tightness of her mouth, Katie knew she wasn’t the welcoming committee.

“Hello Betsy,” her father greeted.

Motioning to an alcove with bony hands, she voiced, “Come.”

Williston sighed. Reaching down to cup Katie’s hand in his, she felt her father’s irritation as he followed behind the woman.

Did she bathe in perfume?

Out of the view of others, Betsy wasted no time with pleasantries. “Is this really the time and place to be bringing your daughter here?” With a dramatic wave of her arms, she pointed to the other room. “That family out there has suffered enough. Seeing Katie will only add insult to injury.”

“My daughter has been through a terrible tragedy, yet she wanted to come and pay her respects to the family. I don’t believe anyone would be troubled by that.”

“Where have you been? Have you heard about that reputation of hers? Your daughter is no angel. She probably helped her mother lure Pastor Jones into their apartment, just to take advantage of him.” 

The insinuation was like a knife – quick and painful, cutting her to the core.

I’m guilty of a lot of things, but I wouldn’t do that.

“Since it was my ex-wife that hurt Pastor Jones, not Katie, I don’t see how it is any business of yours or any other members of New Hope’s congregation.”

Using his professional tone, Katie couldn’t help but appreciate the ferocity of her father’s defense. Although she valued his need to protect her, the truth was more
complicated. Katie did have a reputation – one she hoped to change.

“Well,” Betsy startled, “I disagree.”

“I don’t,” a woman’s voice arose from behind.

Turning, Katie saw both Mrs. Jones and Rachel. The mother and daughter pair stood arm in arm. Jason Thompson and a woman Katie didn’t recognize stayed off to one side watching.

“Neither do I Mrs. Bunts,” Rachel answered.  “I would very much like to see both of them.” Casting her eyes towards Katie, Rachel’s expression softened.

For a moment, the two just held each other’s gaze. Familiar misery reflected back at her. Raw and gut spilling, their pain bound them together in the cruelest of ways. In a sudden flurry of motion, Rachel moved closer, encompassing Katie with a hug. Her old friend’s body trembled beneath her touch.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rachel murmured.

Tears spilled down Katie’s cheeks. She battled with herself, wondering if she should come. Although she feared rejection, she knew she had to try. Casting aside their rivalry and years of regret, Katie wanted to begin this new chapter of her life with honesty and compassion. Hugging Rachel tighter, she knew it was the right decision.

Now I can tell her what I came here to say.

Brian’s last words hung between them. His final wish was for his daughter to know that he loved her.

“There is something I need to tell you,” Katie whispered. “Your dad wanted me to tell you something very important.”

Without holding back, Katie hoped her words could heal.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This work of fiction would never have come about without the love and encouragement of my family and friends. A special thanks to Jerry, Miranda, Justin, and Bobby for giving me time to write and for encouraging me to follow my dreams. It means everything that you support me. Without you taking the time to laugh with me at the silly things I make my characters do, my writing world would be a lonely one. I love each of you very much.
A big
thanks to Christopher
Mursko
for arranging Mr. Ford’s people and to Michele Swanson for being the other
Brontë
sister. Thanks to my dad, Glen William
Ruane
Sr., who is more than just a wonderful
human being, but a talented writer who inspired me to find my own inner
story.
His beautiful wife, Karen
Ruane
, is also in my heart. She and my sister Nancy MacBurnie have always encouraged me to write and I owe them both a big hug for that. Lastly, I wish to thank
Davyne
Verstandig
. Without you, BODY OF ASH would never have come to life. I will forever cherish all you’ve taught me about writing.

♣
Praise for Fate Fixed
♣

“
Fate Fixed
invigorates the need for more of its kind. It's fierce, it's edgy, and it's brilliant. It's
Twilight
and
Underworld'
s
unstoppable young-adult lovechild - and it's foaming at the mouth.” – Miranda Wheeler,
Ricochet Reviews

“
Fate Fixed
was a very good start to the series! It was an interesting book with a good plot and captivating characters! I highly recommend it to lovers of young adult paranormal romance books!” – Inga Kupp-Silberg,
Me and Reading

“The connection and romance is beautifully written on a soul level. It was like a beautiful symphony coloring the air. What really makes this book unique is the action that starts about two-thirds and doesn't stop.” – Jody Duffy,
My Reading Realm

“Fate Fixed is no Twilight.
Most definitely not.
That’s why I love it so much. Bonnie Erina Wheeler has created an awesome story where vampires and werewolves don't play nice when it comes to the girl they love.”  – Debbie,
I Heart YA Books

“
Bonnie Wheeler's debut novel,
Fate Fixed
, captures the dimension and raw emotions of her characters, so much so that at times I had feelings of anger and hopelessness and love racing through my body as if I were living the story myself.
”

– M.D. Christie, author of
The Glamour Series