Read Online Earth Angel by Siri Caldwell - Free Book Online Page B

T-ball and later softball practice, singing the wrong words, making her die of embarrassment. She sang when she made dinner, belting out the recipe. She woke her for school by singing historical dates because she thought it would help, and the funny thing was, it did. Gwynne aced her tests because she’d hear her mother’s ear-splitting opera voice in her head singing battle trivia. Come to think of it, she should have asked her for help in massage school when she struggled to memorize all those muscle attachments, but it never occurred to her. Her mother’s singing had been an embarrassment. It was only now that she could admit to herself that her mother had a beautiful voice and a sense of fun Gwynne was lucky enough to have known.
    “Was she the one I saw you with at the hospital? I don’t remember if I saw the patient, if it could have been your mother or…”
    “It was,” Gwynne said dully, guilt twisting like a knife in her gut, tangling with the grief. Her mother shouldn’t have died that day. Not her mother, not Heather. None of it should have happened.
    “I’m sorry,” Abby said.
    Someone had definitely told her what happened, because she didn’t seem surprised, just sympathetic. Which was good. It meant she didn’t have to explain. It was too soon to talk about it to someone she barely knew, someone who would listen politely and make her feel worse. Even though there was something about Abby that made her want to tell her everything.
    “Do you still want me to play the aria?” Abby asked. “I won’t if you don’t want me to, if you don’t want to be reminded right now.”
    “No, it’ll be nice. She always sounded so happy when she sang.”
    Abby started to play and Gwynne was glad it wasn’t anything she recognized. It meant she wouldn’t lose it.
    * * *
    Dara was back at the spa for her weekly appointment with Megan, early as usual because, Gwynne suspected, she liked hanging out in the lounge.
    “Are you still doing magic shows?” Dara asked her. “My niece is turning seven and my sister’s trying to figure out what to do for her birthday party.”
    “Are you referring to The Great Gwynnini, Illusionist and Rabbit Conjurer?” She hadn’t performed as The Great Gwynnini in ages. “Sure.” Gwynne handed her a glass of Kira’s latest experimental beverage, a blend of grenadine, lime and coconut water. She gave one to Abby too, who was taking a break on one of the guest sofas. “I’m a little rusty, but I can do it.”
    “Fantastic!”
    “I’d need an assistant, though.” As soon as she said the words, Gwynne almost changed her mind, because it was her sister who had always been her assistant. Doing a birthday party magic show without her was going to be hard, emotionally.
    “I’ll be your lovely assistant,” Dara said.
    “You’ll be busy with your niece,” Abby interjected. “I’ll be Gwynne’s assistant.”
    Was that jealousy in Abby’s voice? Hard to tell. Gwynne kind of wanted it to be, and that made it hard to be an accurate judge of what, exactly, Abby might be feeling. No, stop, she didn’t need this right now. She didn’t want to be interested in anyone romantically. There was no jealousy in Abby’s voice. She was offering to help, nothing more. Gwynne was reading something into it that wasn’t there.
    “I always wanted to wear a top hat,” Abby said. “Do I get to wear a top hat?”
    “If you want to.”
    See? Maybe Abby was a fan of magic shows. Nothing to do with Gwynne at all.
    “I can wear a top hat,” Dara said.
    “Wouldn’t you rather spend the afternoon focusing on the kids?” Abby rose from the sofa and moved to a chair closer to Gwynne, which to Gwynne’s overactive imagination felt like she was staking a claim on her.
    “Yeah, but…” Dara trailed off, looking conflicted.
    “It’s up to you,” Abby said graciously, blowing Gwynne’s theory. “Or we could flip for it.”
    “I guess I would rather sit with the girls,” Dara