“Yes.” There was a pause on the other line. “It’s worth a quarter of a million dollars.”
For a few seconds Luke couldn’t say anything. Then he opened his eyes, thanked the man, and promised to call with funeral plans, whenever the family made them, which would have to be soon. But as he hung up all he could think was that once Candy found out Amy Elizabeth had an inheritance, she’d do everything in her power to gain custody of her and keep her forever from the Baxter family.
She’d have 250,000 reasons why.
Eighteen
ASHLEY WAS ANGRY WITH HERSELF.
They were back at the hospital waiting room, everyone but the kids, and like the others Ashley was taking a turn sitting by Erin’s bed. Two floors down, Amy Elizabeth was expected to remain in her medically induced coma for at least another couple days. But she was doing better, her organs showing signs of healing. The news wasn’t as good for Erin. Their sister was slightly worse that Tuesday morning, three days after the accident. Nothing about her prognosis looked hopeful.
Ashley had spent the last half hour at Erin’s bedside assuring her comatose sister that the family was praying, and for that matter, prayer chains were underway around the clock at both Clear Creek Community and their church back in Austin.
“You look a little better,” she told her sister and at the same time she regretted telling her a lie. The whole time she stood at Erin’s bedside, holding her hand and doing her best to avoid the needles and tubes that seemed to be hooked to every part of her.
Ashley tried again. “We want you to wake up, Erin. We need you.”
That last part was the truth, at least, but none of what she was saying was even close to what she planned to say. Their dad walked in and explained that Brooke was next. They were each trying to keep their visits brief so their Dad could spend most of the time with her. After he had a few hours they could go another round, and if they chose they could sit with her in groups of two.
But Ashley needed more time alone with her. So she could say things she didn’t want to leave unspoken. She sat in the corner chair of the waiting room, her head back against the wall, eyes closed. She had blown it. She couldn’t find the courage to talk to Erin even today — when her next few hours weren’t promised.
Ashley remembered her conversation with Landon last night. They were climbing into bed and Ashley didn’t crawl under the covers. Instead she sat cross-legged on the bed facing her husband. “I was never the sister I should’ve been to Erin.” She rested her forearms on her knees and watched for his reaction.
He was lying down already and now he rolled onto his side and stared at her, his eyes kind and deep. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You loved her. You talked her into coming to the party.”
Ashley looked down and guilty tears splashed onto her crossed legs. When she could find her voice she looked up at him. “Exactly.”
“Ash …” he looked instantly worried, almost angry. “This isn’t your fault. You can’t think that.”
“Of course I can.” Her words were tight, and her lip quivered. She had to fight from letting the sobs take over. “I invited her.” A shiver started at the base of her neck. “If I hadn’t asked her … they’d still be in Texas.”
“Baby, no.” Landon had sat up and stood on his knees holding his arms out to her. “Come here … you can’t think like that.”
The weight of guilt from years of not really liking Erin, and then more years of not noticing her enough, along with the invitation to the party made it hard for Ashley to struggle to her knees. But she did, and she allowed him to pull her close. She rested her head on his chest and heard the strength of his heartbeat, felt the fervor of his indignation. “You will never, ever tell yourself this was your fault.” He took hold of her shoulders and searched her eyes. “You can’t do that, Ash. It’ll destroy you.”
She wanted a reason to feel differently, but she couldn’t think of one. “How else can I see it?”
“You were just the one throwing the party.” It was like Landon truly couldn’t believe this was an issue for her. “She would’ve come no matter who invited her. That’d be like saying all of this is your dad’s fault for having a birthday at the end of June.”
“There’s more.” Ashley had wiped her eyes and they sat back down, facing each other on the bed again. “I always looked down on Erin, I think. I thought she was too needy and too dependent on our mom.” Ashley felt sick just saying the words. “I always sort of dismissed her. Like, ‘Oh, don’t worry about her. That’s just Erin.’ That sort of thing.”
“Baby …” Landon put his hand on her knee. “If you were ever like that it was years ago. You and Erin are fine now.”
“Sure, we’re fine.” Ashley had heard the frustration in her tone. “But I never told her I was sorry. Things gradually got better, but that doesn’t mean I ever apologized.”
Landon had been quiet then, as if he finally understood a little of what Ashley was feeling. “You can tell her at the hospital.”
Ashley had agreed. She had planned to go into Erin’s room alone and hold her sister’s hand and tell her all the reasons she was sorry. But then her chance to be with Erin came this morning and Ashley couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She was too afraid. If this was the last time she ever spoke to her sister, she didn’t want her last memory to be of a confession, of a dark admission without any real resolution. If she couldn’t look in Erin’s eyes and tell her how she felt, if she couldn’t see the forgiveness reflecting back from her sister’s heart, then she had no idea how she’d bring herself to say it.
Ashley felt a chill run down her arms. It was nearly ninety degrees outside on this second day of July, but here in the waiting room at St. Anne’s it felt like winter. Or maybe that was just Ashley’s heart making the rest of her cold. Because what sort of sister was she if she couldn’t bring herself to say sorry? So what if she didn’t have Erin’s reaction? Somewhere in the depths of her being — no matter how bad things were — Erin might possibly be able to hear her, to understand her. And that should have been enough. To wait for Erin to wake up was to risk missing the chance to apologize altogether.
A memory worked its way to daylight.
Erin had been sitting with their mom on the front porch of the Baxter house, the one she and Landon lived in now. Ashley came home from her first week at Sunset Hills Adult Care Home and found them on the front porch, deep in some conversation. Ashley was headed right back out, so she parked near the front steps and when she saw her mom and sister, she stopped. “Isn’t that nice? Another mother-daughter moment.” She smiled, but she must’ve looked beyond rude. She didn’t wait for a response as she hurried inside for an apple and a bottle of water.
On her way back out to her car, Erin called after her. “You can join us.”
“That’s okay.” Ashley waved her off. “Wouldn’t want to intrude.”
Ashley shuddered with disgust at the memory of her voice, the tone she had used that afternoon. This many years away from that rebellious time, Ashley knew what the problem was. She was jealous of Erin, of course. Erin had done everything right. She earned the best grades and the craziest thing she ever did was ditch school once to get her hair done for prom. Erin enjoyed knitting and watching old movies with their parents and attending Bible Study Club at Clear Creek High. In their growing-up years, she was everything Ashley had never been.
But that wasn’t all Ashley had been jealous of when it came to Erin. Most of all she envied the way Erin got along with their mother. The two were so close. Back when she was younger, Ashley sometimes felt like there was nothing she could do to make her mom love her the way she loved Erin. The wisdom of the years told a different story, of course. Erin had been close to their mother because she was introverted and liked being at home on a Friday night, and because Ashley, Brooke, and Kari all had a social life.
Over time, an understanding crept into Ashley’s relationship with her youngest sister. Ashley came back t
o her faith and eventually married Landon, and in the process she became kinder and more compassionate. Erin just naturally forgave her, and when the family was together for barbecues or picnics or Sunday dinners, Erin never acted like she had anything against Ashley.
But even still Ashley took her for granted. In her worst moments she thought Erin boring and old-fashioned, and in her best she overlooked her sister. And now Erin was losing the fight for her life. Which meant, if Ashley was ever going to tell Erin she was sorry, it would have to happen here.
She was still wrestling with the guilt of her surface talk in Erin’s hospital room earlier when Luke entered the room and approached her. He lowered his voice. “We need a meeting. Can you call Kari and see where she is? I’d like everyone here.”
Ashley felt herself grow dizzy, felt the light-headed feeling she was becoming familiar with. “Did something else happen?”
“I spoke with the social worker.” Luke looked like he could’ve been talking to a jury. The mix of somber confidence and determination spoke volumes. “I’ll go back to the house and round up the others. The Flanigans brought dinner for tonight, so we need to meet before then. How about the waiting room in an hour?”
“Kids, too?”
“Not this time.” Luke’s intensity didn’t lessen. “I have to make a few phone calls.”
“Okay.” Ashley thought about the kids as her brother walked away.
Elaine and Reagan and Katy had done an amazing job with the children — feeding and clothing and cleaning them, and keeping them entertained with movies and coloring books and games. They’d even gone to the park a few times. There were thirteen of them including the older ones, who were also helping out. After the first day, Cole, Maddie, and Jessie had opted to stay back at Ashley and Landon’s house.
“It’s too sad, Mom,” Cole had told her. “We’re all praying for Aunt Erin and everyone, but we can’t help by sitting in a waiting room.”
A few of Cole’s friends’ families had also brought meals and had promised to pray, as well. Ashley was grateful for the support and for the freedom to stay with Landon at the hospital all day and come home to find all the kids loved and cared for. Not that there weren’t times of tears even back at the house. Reagan had pulled her aside last night when everyone returned from the hospital.
“It’s so sad, watching the older kids talking about the cousins they’ve lost. They pulled out scrapbooks and went through old pictures on the computer. None of us can believe this.”
That was for sure. Ashley shivered now, her hands freezing. She took her cell phone outside so the sunshine might warm her body and melt the ice that seemed to be running through her fingers. As she walked down the hall she caught a glimpse of Brooke talking with Erin’s attending physician.
Brooke had become the family’s liaison, especially where Amy was concerned. They’d all taken turns visiting their little niece, and they were grateful for her medically induced coma. The trauma she would wake up to would be unbearable, even if she were perfectly healthy. Brooke had reported earlier that morning that Amy’s internal injuries were healing, but they still wanted her to stay perfectly still. When they passed these early critical days, they would gradually bring her out of the coma.
Once she was outside, Ashley stopped and let the sun bake her shoulders for several seconds. Then she walked to a spot against the warm brick wall. Luke was going back to the house, so she called Kari and found her at lunch talking with some friends from church who had heard about the accident. She promised to meet in the waiting room at St. Anne’s in an hour. Ashley stayed outside after the call was over until her body and fingers were finally warm.
When she went back inside, she walked straight to Erin’s room and stopped at the open door. A curtain was pulled across the front of the room for privacy so that only the lower part of Erin’s hospital bed was showing. But from where she stood Ashley could hear their dad’s voice, soft and hopeful as he talked to Erin. Ashley crept into the room and again took the chair at the foot of the bed, against the wall. Even then her dad didn’t seem to notice her.
“Remember that Valentine’s Day when everyone had somewhere to go, someone to be with? And you and your mom and I celebrated by ourselves? You made me that beautiful scarf, remember?” He was holding Erin’s hand, leaning over the bed and speaking closer to her face than if he were sitting down. “We went out for Chinese food that night and we watched Sleepless in Seattle.” His tone was rich with nostalgia. “You told us you knew God had a special man for you somewhere. But in the meantime you didn’t care if other people thought it was silly to spend Valentine’s Day with your parents.” He sounded stronger than he had a few days ago. His emotions under control. But at this point his voice grew shaky. “You said there wasn’t anyone you loved more, so why not?” He hesitated. “You were eighteen that year.”
Ashley’s sick stomach felt worse as she watched. Her youngest sister had been a model daughter, caring for their parents and loving them even when it wasn’t the most popular choice with kids her age. Every wrong feeling she’d ever felt about Erin had been her own fault. Ashley could see that now more than ever before.
Their dad looked over his shoulder and straightened. “Hi, Ash.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “How long have you been here?”
“Not long.” She breathed in sharp through her nose and folded her hands in her lap. “I can leave. If you want this moment.”
“No, it’s fine.” He came to her and she stood so the two of them could hug. “I like having you here.”
“Hmm. Me, too.” She stepped back, regret casting shadows over her heart. “That was beautiful. That story about Erin and Valentine’s Day.”
His eyes looked like they might stay sad forever, but still the hint of a smile remained. “She’s always been so thoughtful.”
Guilt added in with Ashley’s regret. She folded her arms and moved to the foot of Erin’s bed. For nearly a minute she just stood there, watching her sister’s chest rise and fall and thinking about the past, the times she could’ve been more loving or kind. More inclusive of her youngest sister. Finally she turned to her dad. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He came to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “This isn’t your fault, Ash.” He glanced at her. “Landon told me to watch you … he said you had some crazy notion that this was your doing for inviting her to the party.”
“No.” She gave a quick shake of her head. “I mean, yes, I sometimes think that. But that’s not why I’m sorry.” Her father was solid and strong beside her, something Ashley desperately needed. She leaned into his shoulder. “I’m sorry for not being more like Erin.”
Her dad was quiet, his hold on her as close as before. Almost as if he was letting her words simmer in his heart before he might respond. After a while he took a slow breath. “I never expected you kids to be the same.”
“I know.” Ashley’s tears returned. They fell down her face and dropped onto the floor, and she did nothing to stop them. “But I was a brat, Dad. We both know it. I broke everyone’s hearts by running off to Paris, and when I came home I wasn’t very loving.” She sniffed and looked at her sister. “Especially to Erin.” She swallowed a few times, working to keep her composure. “I think … I was jealous of her. The relationship she had with you and Mom.”
“That was a hard time for you.” Her dad kissed her cheek and then watched Erin again. “But God had you in His hands all the time. Look where you are today.”
“Thank you.” Ashley stepped away and took a single tissue from the box on the back counter. She blew her nose and then returned to her dad. “I guess I’m feeling a lot of regret. Like I could’ve been a better sister to Erin.”
Her dad put his arm around her again, and with his other hand he took hold of Erin’s foot through the sheets. “You’ve been great for a long time, Ash. And you can be the sister she needs, now.”
“Now?” Ashley looked at Erin’s still figure, and a sense of defeat
filled her. “What can I do now?”
Her dad smiled at her, and this time a little of the sadness in his eyes lifted. “God will show you.”
Ashley nodded and with her free hand she took gentle hold of Erin’s other foot. “I love her … I wish …” A sob caught in her throat and she stared at the floor. She released her hold on Erin and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Dad, I don’t know if I can do this.”
“We can’t do this.” He tightened his hold on her shoulders. “Only God working through us, that’s the only way any of us are still walking this road. He’s with us, sweetheart.”
Ashley used her forearm to wipe her wet cheeks.
Another minute or so passed, and her dad looked at her. “What do you wish?”
Ashley sniffed and felt her face contort under a sadness greater than all of Indiana. “I wish … I was a better sister.”
Her dad faced her and then he wrapped his arms around her. “Shhh, Ash … it’s okay.” He soothed her dark hair and held her the way he had when she’d come home from Paris. “Erin loves you. Never worry about that.”
“I … know she does.” She didn’t want to trouble her sister, or make her concerned. In case she could hear them. So she kept her voice to a whisper, and cried into her father’s chest. “I just want another … chance to … love her.”
“Then maybe God will give you that. Keep praying.”
For the rest of the hour they stayed with Erin, Ashley eventually returning to the same chair and her dad moving back to Erin’s bedside where he continued to recall old stories and happy times. Anything that might connect with Erin and stimulate a change for the better. But before they left her room, Dr. Hazel found them. He entered the room and shut the door behind him.
“Would you like us to leave?” Her dad understood doctor protocol, how as long as the care his family was receiving was top notch, he was better not to interfere. He joined Ashley, standing against the wall near her chair.