Can't Let Go (5 page)

“I want to concentrate on my career.  I have goals, Abigail.  You would understand that if you were actually working at a respectable company.”  Abby sighed then, rolling her eyes and pushing herself off the table.  She walked passed him and threw her carton into the garbage, no longer hungry, before turning to the sink and washing her hands. 

“Ever stop to think that maybe my goals don’t include my profession?”  She snapped before turning her back and exiting the kitchen.  He always had a way of doing this—of making her feel badly about her hopes and dreams for the future, whether because she prioritized family above her career, or because her career was nothing more than a joke to him.  Her future was never quite as bright as his.

Abby’s mind turned to her earlier thought of checking their voicemail and she settled into the plush couch cushions before reaching over and grabbing the phone from
it’s
cradle.  She dialed the number to enter their answering service and skipped over a few messages.  She was about to skip over the last when she heard a name she recognized.

“Hello, this is Sheriff Winslow of Scotts County in Kentucky.  I’m calling in an attempt to reach a Miss Abigail Lewis.  Please call as soon as you receive this message.”  She scribbled down the number he gave before quickly hanging up the phone, her heart beginning to hammer loudly in her chest. 

Blake and Hayley lived in Scotts County. 

Why would the Sheriff be calling her? 

A range of possibilities raced through her mind—she was, after all, listed as Hayley’s next of kin outside of Blake.  She wondered what kind of trouble they’d gotten themselves into—they’d probably broken some silly law and had been taken into custody and needed bailing out or something. 

She imagined that conversation with Eric and almost smiled, knowing what a kick Hayley would get out of it.

But as she dialed the number, something told her it was nothing quite
so
simple as that.  A woman answered the phone and Abby introduced herself.  “Hi, this is Abby Lewis—I got a call from the Sheriff—”

“Oh, just one moment, I’ll patch you right through.”  A moment later, the phone was ringing again and she waited for several moments before someone answered.  It was the same voice she’d heard in the message—the voice of an older man, with that slight southern accent.  She introduced herself again.  “Miss Lewis, I just have a few questions.  What is your relation to Hayley Walker?”  

“Well—I—she’s my best friend; we’ve known each other practically since birth.”

“She has no other family that we could contact?”

“No, I’m the closest thing she has—what is this about?”  Her heart was beginning to thud so loudly in her
chest,
she almost couldn’t hear the man on the other end of the phone.  “Is she in some sort of trouble?” 

“I hate to have to do this over the phone, Miss Lewis.”  She didn’t even have a moment to prepare herself for what was to follow, her mind racing as she tried to figure it out before he could say.  “I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”

“An accident?”
  They were fine—she knew it—they were fine—

“Yes.  I’m so sorry, Miss Lewis—but there were no survivors.” 

She felt her lungs empty of oxygen, felt the room sway,
felt
her heart stop. 

“We’ve already made positive identifications, but we thought we should wait until the next of kin was reached before we did anything more.”

“Hayley’s…gone?”  She could barely form the words.

“I’m afraid so, Miss.” 

“And Blake?”
 

“There were no survivors.”  He repeated and her body suddenly filled with an undeniable ache, unrelenting and powerful. 

“I’ll be on the next flight out.”

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”  He paused.  “I really am very sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you,”
  she
said, though she was truly unaware anymore of what he was saying.  Images of she and Hayley from their entire lives were flashing before her eyes—prancing around in two-piece bathing suits when they were eight, mooning over boys when they were fourteen, shopping for prom dresses, the many nights they met Blake and Logan at the bar, the night of Hayley’s wedding, the last time she’d seen her—waving goodbye at the airport. 

She was overwhelmed by the sudden emptiness that ripped through her. 

Hayley was
gone
. 

She was dead. 

Abby sat staring straight ahead for several long minutes, not even noticing the buzz of the busy signal coming from the phone at her ear.

“Look, Abigail—you know I hate arguing about this—”
  She
heard the voice, but it sounded as if it were miles and miles away.  It even sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t see through the fog.  “Abigail—?”

“She’s dead.”  It was the only phrase she was capable of forming. 

“Who’s dead?”

“Hayley.
  Blake. 
Their baby.”
  She was in shock.  She knew this.  The pain was turning into numbness, and this was easier to manage.  Eric took the phone from her hand and pressed the button, silencing the persistent beep.  She was wading through the murkiness.  “I have to go to Kentucky.”

“Hold on—”

“I’m her next of kin.  I have to go—I have to make the arrangements—”

“Abigail, just slow down,”
  Because
she was now on her feet, hurrying toward the stairs that led upstairs to their bedroom.  “You need to breathe.”

“I have to—I have to go, Eric.”  She climbed the stairs, shaking her head.  “There’s so much I need to do.  I have to call—the airport, I need to call the airport. 
And my dad—and work.
  Oh, god, Ingrid is going to lose it—I’ve got to pack—”

“You need to slow down.”

“There isn’t time for slowing down,”
  Abby
was switching to autopilot.  She worked best on autopilot in these situations.  She veered left, hurrying into Eric’s office with him right behind. 

She flipped through his rolodex until she found the number for the airport, quickly pushing the button, asking for the next flight to Nashville.  Nashville was closer than Louisville—she’d made the flight a few times.  It would be about an hour and a half drive to
Allensville
from the airport. 

The soonest she could leave was a flight that left early in the morning—that gave her a few hours to get everything together and take care of everything that needed to be done in L.A.  She booked the flight and hung up the phone, turning around to face her fiancé.  “You only booked it for one.”

“Well there’s no need for you to go too.”

“Abigail, your best friend just died.”

“Exactly.
  She’s my best friend.  It’s my responsibility—I’ll take care of it all.”  She shrugged her shoulders, feeling nothing anymore and grateful for it.  “Besides, you have that Jacobs case.  You can’t miss out on that.  What would the partners think?”  She knew this was the best way to get him to stay behind.  Appeal to his work ethic.  It would be better off for both parties if Eric stayed behind. 

“But they would understand, Abigail.”  Even as he spoke, though, she could tell he didn’t really mean it.

“No—no, really, it’s okay.  I’ll be fine.”  And just like that, he let it go.

“Should I do anything to help?”  Perhaps if she had been in the right state, she would have been hurt by his quickness to settle.  But feeling numb, as she did, she didn’t mind.  It was what she wanted, after all. 

“Drop me off at the airport?  The flight leaves at six in the morning.  I should get there a couple hours early.”

“What about sleep?”

“I’ll sleep on the flight.”  She was making lists in her mind—things to pack, people to call, arrangements that would need to be made.  Anything to distract her from the fact that not more than thirty minutes ago, she had just received the most earth-shattering information she’d ever received in her adult life.  “I need to pack up a few things—and I should call my dad.  He’d want to know.”

“Of course—whatever you need to do.”  Abby nodded before gliding past him and into the bedroom, pulling her bags from the closet and riffling through the items that hung there.  She began to pull things out at random at first, and then realized upon second thought that she wanted to put some thought into this.  She owed it to her friend.

Abby busied herself for hours, keeping her mind distracted.  There was quite a lot to be done she realized as she ran around tidying up, packing last minute items and finally taking a quick shower before she loaded up the car.  Eric joined her moments later, sitting in the driver’s seat.  Traffic was light and they made it there rather quickly. 

“I’ll call when I get in,”
  she
said, her hand on the door.  Eric nodded.

“Be careful.”

“I will be.”  She opened the door without so much as a second glance his way and hurried from the vehicle, needing to keep moving.  She grabbed her bag from the trunk and waved over her shoulder before entering the large building. 

She’d been navigating the airport since she was a little girl and so it was all familiar—menial tasks to take her mind off the reality of her situation.  When she’d finally settled in at her gate, she sat down and stared at the cell phone in her hand, hesitating only a moment before surfing through her contacts until she came to Ingrid’s name. 

“Ingrid, this is Abby.  I’m just calling to let you know that I’m not going to be in for a few days—a friend of mine just passed away, and I’m going out of state in order to tend to the arrangements.” 

As she hung up the phone, she felt another wave of shock pass through her.

It was happening.  It was all really happening. 

It just seemed so irrational—how could she be preparing to board a flight to plan Hayley’s funeral?  How, when not even twenty-four hours before, she’d been so happy and alive? 

How could she be dead?

The terminal began to sway and Abby inhaled sharply, trying to regain her bearings. 

It would be okay.  She knew it would.  It
had
to be. 

She imagined Hayley sitting at her side, scolding her for acting so lost.  Abby was supposed to be the strong one—she was supposed to be the reasonable one.  In times of crisis, it was Abby who took control. 

But that had always been because she knew she had Hayley to lean on. 
Hayley who, despite her spontaneous and sometimes reckless behavior, was always there to support Abby—the picture of confidence and optimism.

She took another deep breath as tears threatened to well over.  She needed to maintain control.  This was no place to break down—it was no place to mourn.

She shifted her train of thought back to work then—so many things that had been left undone.  Ingrid was going to be livid—she knew.  But she didn’t care.  She would be on her flight soon and she wouldn’t have to deal with the litany of phone calls that was sure to follow.  She resolved to ignore the phone calls even once they did come—why shouldn’t she be allowed time to grieve?  It was her right.

As another wave of emotion began to pass through her, she sighed and decided to distract herself by checking over everything she thought she should bring, making sure she had brought the numbers of everyone she was supposed to call.  She ran through ideas of what she was supposed to say.

Abby had never had to break news of a funeral before.  She’d never had to plan one.  She’d never really even been to one—since she was a little girl, when her mother had died.  At least not for someone she really cared about.  The few she’d attended in her older years had simply been friends of her father’s, people she’d had little to no relation to.

Once again, she wondered how this could be happening. 

It was like she was caught in a nightmare that she couldn’t wake up from.

She still had a bit of time before her flight and she rose, tossing her carry-on bag over her shoulder and making her way through the airport.  She found a book store and scanned the racks, unsure of what to get.  She simply needed something to divert her attentions until she was on the plane—then she could sleep. 

The selections were limited and she eventually found her way to the magazine rack.  The latest issue of
Rumor
stared at her, the cover full of celebrity headlines. 
Rumor
was one of the more tasteful gossip rags, but it was, nonetheless, a gossip rag.  With a slight sigh, she reached forward and plucked one from the stand.  She scanned the covers once more before deciding on a wedding magazine.

It wasn’t as if she really needed one.  Most of the details had already been planned out, what with the wedding being only three months away.  She remembered going virtual wedding-dress shopping with Hayley—she’d secretly taken pictures of herself in various dresses with her cell phone and had sent them to her friend.  The dresses had all been very traditional—the sort that Eric was a fan of.  She hadn’t wanted to walk down the aisle in something he wouldn’t be happy to see her in.

Hayley had, of course, had much to say about this.  It wasn’t that Abby was completely against tradition—but she hated being so restricted.  Hayley had insisted that if Eric was the man Abby was
truly
meant to be with, then she could walk down the aisle in a paper bag and it wouldn’t make a difference to him.  In his eyes, she would still be the most beautiful woman in the room. 

Abby made her purchase and returned to her gate, grateful to realize she only had a few minutes before they would begin boarding.  She sat down and thumbed through the bridal magazine, sighing here and there.  She had always dreamed of something a little more casual than what she and Eric had planned—something with friends and family, people who would be in her life forever. 

The realization was sudden—as if she’d received a swift blow to the stomach.

That would never happen—not now. 

Hayley and Blake—they had been the only people Abby had cared about coming to her wedding.  Of course she wanted her dad to give her away—but Hayley and Blake—they were her
family
.