The Lullaby Sky (9 page)

“We had a great time dyeing eggs with Sophie. I’ll do my best, kiddo,” Patsy said. “Love you and see you in a few weeks, hopefully. Your grandmother is yelling for me.”

Hannah hit the “End” button and slumped down on the sofa. “I want my mama,” she whined.

“So does this little girl,” Miss Rosie said as she and Sophie came in the back door. “I think what she really wants is a nap, but she’s like a worm in hot ashes when I try to lie down with her.”

“Come here, sweetheart.” Hannah opened her arms.

Sophie walked into them and laid her head on Hannah’s shoulder. “Why do you want your mama?” She yawned.

“Because I need a nap, too,” Hannah said. “Thanks for watching her while I got that job done, Miss Rosie.”

“Anytime, honey. I’m going to scoot on back to my house and get my Sunday afternoon snooze. I’ll see y’all later,” Miss Rosie said.

“Sing to me, Mama,” Sophie whispered.

Hannah started the twinkle song, and Sophie was sound asleep before she got through the first chorus. Hannah shifted her over to the sofa and spread a throw over her bare feet.

“Changes are coming, Sophie. Big ones. Your grandma is going to visit and stay with us for the first time in your life. We’re going to have guests that need a safe place. And there’s more on the wind. I can feel the changes, even if I don’t know what they are. I think they’re going to be exciting,” Hannah whispered.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

A
week later, Sophie’s room had been painted blue and Travis was busy putting a rainbow, clouds, and twinkle star mural on the wall. Hannah had set up the sewing machine again and was making the last set of valances for the downstairs windows.

Travis did his best plotting for his novels when he was busy with something other than staring at the computer screen. The book was soon put on a back burner as his thoughts focused on Hannah. He wanted so badly to tell her about his career as an author but was afraid that she’d be angry that he had kept a secret that big from her all these years.

He had just dipped his brush in purple paint when the house went silent except for two sets of bare feet on hardwood. He looked up to see Sophie dragging her mother through the door by the hand. “Look, Mama. You made curtains and Travis made a rainbow. You just have to see how pretty it is.”

Travis laid the brush down and enjoyed the warmth of Hannah’s smile. His Hannah was truly coming back to him, one day at a time, one blue room at a time.

“It’s going to be beautiful, isn’t it?” Hannah whispered.

“Yes, it is.” Sophie let go of her mother’s hand and sat down in the middle of the floor. “Where are the clouds going? And the twinkle star? Mama, does the Irish see the same stars we do?”

Travis sat down beside her and pointed to three different places. “How about a cloud right there above your pillow and your twinkle star over by where your mama lies when she sings you to sleep? And then we could put another low cloud on each side so you could raise your hand and touch it even when you are in bed. Does that sound good?”

Sophie cocked her head to one side and then the other. “I like it just like you said, but could we have just a little bit of clouds on that wall around my dresser so when I wake up in the morning, I can see them?”

“Of course you can,” Travis said without hesitation.

“That’s a lot of work,” Hannah said from the doorway. “And Calvin needs you to be ready to work on Wednesday. Have y’all even gone down there to measure and look at the hangar yet?”

“No, but I know from how many pieces of metal are on the outside about how big it is, so I’ve got a rough idea. We’ll get the keys from you and unlock it Wednesday morning,” Travis said. “And then the fun will begin. I’m glad he’s coming back to Crossing. It brings us full circle.” He paused and pointed toward the mirror above Sophie’s dresser. “How about one more star, right up there?”

Sophie clapped her hands and jumped up. “I’ve got to go tell Aunt Birdie all about it.”

“Look both ways before you cross the street,” Hannah said.

“I will, but, Mama, don’t nobody ever come down this road. It just ends at the river.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Hannah nodded.

Travis rolled up on his feet and picked up the paintbrush.

“Kind of like my life. It looked like a dead end, but now there’s a possibility of a flood of good things,” Hannah said to Travis.

“Amen, darlin’. Nothing but good things in your future, with lots of twinkle stars and rainbows.”

“You’ve always been positive.” She pulled the plastic cover from a rocking chair and sat down. “Hey, what happened to that woman you were so serious about a few years ago? Angela, right? You brought her home for Christmas one year and we all thought you’d marry her, and then boom, you didn’t say much about her anymore.”

“The problem is that another woman caught my eye years ago. Angela was the one who told me that before I could move on to the future, I had to get over the past.”

“Why didn’t you tell the other woman or ask her out or do something?” Hannah asked.

“Because I was too shy to tell her at first, and then she was out of my reach. Is that your phone?” he deflected.

“No, must be yours. I’ll get back to the sewing so we’ll have the curtains done when you finish and her room will be ready tonight.” Hannah disappeared down the hallway and back into the dining room, where the noise of the sewing machine again filled the house.

Travis pulled the phone from his shirt pocket and smiled. “Hello, Patsy.”

“I’m calling to get your take on how my daughter is really doing. She sounds euphoric when I talk to her, but we all know that when a person is flying that high, they’ll crash. Do I need to make arrangements to come to Texas before Independence Day?” Hannah’s mother asked.

“She’d love to see you anytime, but in my opinion she’s doing better every day. I’m here as well as Aunt Birdie. We’ll all support her any way we can,” Travis said.

“I’m glad to hear that. What is that noise?”

“Sewing machine.”

“Oh, that’s right. She told me she was going to make some valances. And what do you think about this abused-women thing?”

Travis laid the brush across the paint can and sat down in the rocking chair. “I think it might be just the therapy that she needs. Helping women to find a way out of a situation like she was in or maybe even worse might be the very thing that brings her closure, Patsy,” Travis said.

“I’m not nearly as worried about her as I used to be. We get to talk when we want now, and hearing her voice is a blessing. And Travis, thank you.”

“If it’s a help to you or Hannah, I’m all for anything,” he said softly.

“I know, and I appreciate it. I’ll talk to her later this evening. Right now Mama is hollerin’ that it’s time for our game show that we watch together every morning, so ’bye for now.”

“’Bye, Patsy.” Travis hit the “End” button and slipped the phone back in his pocket.

The sewing machine stopped, and Hannah yelled, asking him if he wanted something to drink.

“Sweet tea, please.” He picked up the brush and went back to work on the rainbow.

She brought two glasses into the room and handed him one. “I need to talk.”

“About?”

“I don’t know.”

He picked up the cold sweet tea and took a long drink. “Then how do you even know you need to talk?”

“Because these feelings inside me are too heavy. I can’t talk to Liz, because she’s got enough on her plate. Cal is all busy getting ready to move. And besides, you’ve always been the one of us who . . .” She paused.

Travis’s heart jumped up into his throat. He’d been the one who what? Was the sucker because he was too shy to tell Hannah that he’d loved her when they were kids? Was like a brother?

Just don’t let her say that brother thing,
he thought.
I can work with almost anything but that.

The pregnant silence hung over the room like smoke in an old honky-tonk. Travis didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she finally inhaled deeply and started to talk again.

“You’re the one I could bring my problems to when we were kids. I love our other friends, I really do, but you were my one person.”

His heart settled back into place in his chest. If he was her person, then maybe someday she’d see him as more than that. “And what’s this problem today?”

“I don’t feel guilty, and yet I do.”

“About what?” he asked.

“I just got a divorce a week ago, and there should be at least a little bit of guilt for not trying harder to make it work. If I’d been what Marty needed in his life, Sophie wouldn’t be growing up without a father. But I didn’t try very hard. I didn’t like the big-city life, and I did like living here in Crossing. I’d make things nice for him here, but I didn’t push for him to take me to Dallas for his fancy dinners and parties. Lord, Travis, I felt so out of place at those things that sometimes I hid out in the bathroom. After Sophie was born, I didn’t really care if he came home or not.”

“There was a reason for all that,” Travis said.

Hannah nodded. “I know, but still, shouldn’t there be some remorse somewhere? All I feel is relief that it’s over. I’ll never make that mistake again.”

“As in never trusting another man?” Travis asked.

“No, not that. One rotten man shouldn’t ruin it for every other man on Earth,” she answered. “I told you I didn’t know how to even talk about this.”

“You feel guilty because you don’t feel guilty,” he said simply.

“Yes!” she answered. “That’s it, and I can’t shake it.”

“Maybe helping other women will give you some closure,” he suggested.

“I hope so.” Hannah shook her head as if to clear it. “Thanks, Travis. I’ll get back to sewing. Aunt Birdie called a little bit ago and said that dinner would be ready at straight up noon, so that gives us half an hour. The way you’re throwing those clouds on the wall, I’d say you’ll have your end of the bargain done by then.”

“I’m surprised that Sophie didn’t stick around longer.” He didn’t want Hannah to leave. “I figured she’d be sitting right beside me while I painted until it was totally finished.”

“She’ll be back soon, but right now she and Miss Rosie are in a heated game of Old Maid. Sophie was winning, last I heard. They’ll keep her busy until after we eat, and then we can surprise her with the new room.”

“One more cloud and one twinkle star and it’ll be done.” He grinned.

When Travis smiled, Hannah’s heart threw in an extra beat. It had always been that way, even back when they were kids. Talking to him made things better, because he listened and then she got a clear picture of how to fix things.

And what about that woman that stole his heart all those years ago, she wondered. Was it right after he left Crossing to go on the construction road with his dad? A little streak of jealousy shot down her spine. Why hadn’t he confided in her about this woman? And would he ever get over that first love?

You didn’t tell him the whole story about Marty. All he knew was that the man was mentally abusive,
the voice in her head said very bluntly.
So don’t expect him to tell you about the woman who still holds his heart.

“Okay, then, back to the noisy sewing machine.” She blinked her way back to the present.

“We’ll get it all done by Wednesday”—there was that grin again—“and when Cal gets here with his truckload of stuff, I’ll be ready to start helping him lay out his new designing place. We’ve been talking on the phone a lot. I kind of know what he’s got in mind.”

She didn’t want to leave, yet she really did need to get back to the sewing business, so she whipped around and went back to the dining room.

She’d finished another valance when Liz called to apologize for not showing up to help. Wyatt had come home unexpectedly. She’d be able to help after he left on Wednesday morning. His route would take him north, so he’d be gone a week this time.

“Are you okay? You sound like you are losing your voice,” Hannah said.

“I’m fine. Wyatt is watching a movie, and he doesn’t like me to talk very loud. Got to go. He’s motioning for me to refill his tea glass. See you Wednesday,” Liz said.

Hannah’s hands were shaking when she hit the “End” button on her phone. For a long minute, she wished that it wasn’t against the law to shoot an abusive man. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they made it legal just one day out of the year?

They could even issue hunting licenses and make some money for the state, like they did with those tags that hunters hung on deer when they shot one. Only this time it would be something to hang on the abuser’s toe. Then whoever got to the station first to check in their dead husband would get a big, gold-plated trophy.

To take her mind off what was going on right down the street at Liz’s house, she stretched out another length of white fabric on the dining room table and cut it into the right lengths for the living room window valances. She was working on the last cut when the doorbell rang. Figuring it was Sophie, sent by Aunt Birdie, to tell them to come on to dinner, she didn’t answer it. Sophie liked to play visitor, but Hannah was busy.

It rang again, and she hurried from the dining room across to the foyer. Expecting to see Sophie with a big grin on her face, she slung it open, but it wasn’t her daughter on the other side of the screen door. Gina was standing there with a strange woman beside her.

“I tried to call, but you must have not heard your phone. Can we please get inside?”

“Yes, of course.” Hannah threw open the door.