The Color of Love (The Color of Heaven Series) (10 page)

“I hope it’s okay for me to say this,” she said, leaning back against the window sill and folding her arms across her chest, “but I’m aware that you’ve had a rough time these past few months.”

Of course she would know. Seth’s disappearance had been all over the news. There had even been a Facebook page set up as a fundraiser to help Kaleigh and me, but the donations stopped coming in after about a week when a new political scandal broke and everyone forgot about the small private plane that had crashed somewhere up north.

There was some talk about a lawsuit, because George Atherton certainly had the funds to offer settlements. I’d spoken to a lawyer, but everything moved so slowly.

“It hasn’t exactly been a cake walk,” I replied.

She nodded, then reached for a piece of paper on the desk and handed it to me. “Your last pre-authorized payment bounced. This is the third time it’s happened since January. I’m not sure what to say.”

I stared at the notice and swallowed uneasily. “We’ve been a bit strapped.”

“I get that,” she said, “and I really want to help. That’s why I haven’t mentioned it before now. I was hoping you’d get things straightened out.”

“I’m trying,” I replied. “I’m working full time now.”

“That’s good to hear.” She paused. “Is there any way you can make sure the next payment goes through?”

“There are a few calls I can make,” I replied as I leaned forward and placed the sheet of paper back on her desk.

“You can keep that,” she said.

With a half-smile and a nod, I rose from the chair and slid the notice into my purse. “Thanks for cutting me some slack,” I said. “It’s been tough, to say the least, but this skating club has been so good for Kaleigh—keeping her busy. I don’t want to lose this.”

She gave me a look of compassion, or maybe it was pity. “Just try to make sure the next payment doesn’t bounce, okay?”

I nodded and walked out, then sat in the car for the rest of the hour, contemplating my options while I waited for Kaleigh to finish her practice. Maybe I could get rid of our home phone and just keep our cell phones. And I should make more of an effort to clip coupons to use at the grocery store.

I really didn’t want to ask Garry and Jean for more money. They’d been very generous, helping me pay for the lawyer, but I did have my pride.

At the end of the hour, Kaleigh got into the car and threw her skates on the floor. “I hate my coach!” she said.

“Why? What happened?” I asked with a frown.

“She said I wasn’t trying hard enough. That I was slacking off and I didn’t appreciate what I had.”

“Why would she say that?” I asked, wanting to march right back in there and ask the coach myself.

Kaleigh let out a huff and rested her forehead in a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. Tell me what happened. Do I need to go talk to her?”

Heaven help me, if the coach was punishing Kaleigh for my bounced checks, I would have a few words to say to her about that.

“No!” Kaleigh replied. “I just want to go home. Let’s get out of here. I’m sick of this place.”

She’d always loved skating. Hearing her complain so bitterly was disappointing, to say the least.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, “I just want to go home.” Kaleigh immediately whipped out her phone and began texting.

Deciding that I would call the coach later tonight and get to the bottom of the problem, I shifted into reverse and drove out of the parking lot.

Ten minutes later, only a few blocks from home, we were crossing an intersection on a green light when a huge tractor trailer came speeding through.

It all happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to hit the brakes.

The driver blared his horn. His tires screeched across the pavement. All I remember seeing was his shiny front grill to my left as he smashed into the rear passenger door behind me and sent us spinning.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Kaleigh and I had both been wearing our seatbelts, so we remained strapped in as the car spun 360 degrees and slid across the intersection. My front end took out the back bumper on another car that had the misfortune to be in our path, but other than that, miraculously, there were no other vehicles involved.

As soon as we came to a jarring halt next to a light post, I turned to Kaleigh. “Oh, my God! Are you okay?”

She was braced rigidly against the seat, her eyes wide open in terror, gripping the door with one hand. She nodded quickly.

“Are you sure?” I asked, and she nodded again.

My heart was thrashing against my ribcage like a wild animal.

Someone knocked on my window and I jumped.

“Are you okay in there?” the man asked.

With trembling hands, I pressed the button to lower the window, which still worked, surprisingly. “I think so.”

A woman ran up to the other window. “Anyone hurt? I’m a nurse.”

“I think we’re okay,” I replied. “Kaleigh are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied.

I turned my eyes back to the nurse. “We’re just shaken up.”

“No wonder,” she said. “He slammed you pretty hard. You should still be checked out. You should go to the hospital.”

“Is the other driver okay?” I asked.

She glanced back at the eighteen wheeler, which had jack-knifed in the center of the intersection after he hit us.

“He just hopped out of the cab,” she said. “He looks fine.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

Suddenly I heard the wail of sirens, and two cop cars skidded to a stop nearby.

o0o

“What do you mean it was my fault?” I asked the officer after I finished describing what had occurred. “The truck went through the red light. Not me.”

The officer’s gaze lifted and he studied my expression.

I studied his in return. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and seemed a bit macho. I suspected he worked out in the gym a lot. Maybe he was into body building.

“The driver of the other vehicle said it was the other way around,” he said. “That
you
were the one who went through the red light. You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

I stared at him in shock. “Of course not. He came out of nowhere and rammed into my back end.”

Kaleigh approached after being checked out by the nurse and took hold of my hand.

“Did
you
see what happened?” I asked her. “The truck went through a red light. Didn’t he?”

She looked up at me uncertainly. “I…I’m not sure.”

I felt my forehead crinkle with concern, because all of a sudden, I wasn’t sure either. I had definitely been distracted during the drive home.

Glancing to my left, I saw the man who had been first to knock on my car window. He was describing what happened to a different police officer, and another cop was taking photographs of the scene.

“What are the other witnesses saying?” I asked. Then I leaned in to read the cop’s badge. “Officer…”

“Wallace,” he finished for me. “So far they all say it was you who went through the red light.”

I met his concerned gaze and felt something inside me crumble. Then I looked down at my shoes, shut my eyes and shook my head. “I guess I’m not sure. Maybe it
was
me.”

Kaleigh squeezed my hand. “Was it our fault?” she asked.

“Not
your
fault,” I replied. “
My
fault. I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”

“Were you talking on a cell phone or texting?” Officer Wallace asked.

“No, nothing like that. It’s just been a rough year, that’s all.”

He wrote down what I said.

Feeling completely defeated, I leaned back against the side of my car—the front part that wasn’t smashed in—and wished I could press the rewind button on that day.

“Are you feeling all right?” the cop asked. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I’m okay,” I replied, though I did feel a bit lightheaded. “I’m just upset with myself. People could have been killed.”

“Well…” He lowered the clipboard to his side. “It was an accident, and accidents happen to the best of us. Just be thankful that everyone’s fine, and remember that your car can be replaced. You can’t. The way I see it, your star was shining today.”

Somehow I managed a half-smile. “You’re a glass half-f kind of guy?”

“Yes, because when everybody walks away from a wreck, it’s a good day.” His attention turned to the tow truck that was now backing up behind my car. The engine roared noisily.

Officer Wallace took hold of my elbow to lead me out of the way. “Step over here, please.”

“This is probably totaled, isn’t it?” I said as I inspected the damage to my car. The whole back end was creamed and the tires were completely mangled.

“Most likely,” Officer Wallace replied. “You definitely won’t be driving this anywhere today. I hope you have good insurance. Why don’t you grab what you need out of your vehicle and I’ll take you and your daughter to the hospital. You should both get checked out.”

He held up a hand to tell the tow truck operator to give us a moment.

“Kaleigh, go grab your skates.” I returned to the car, opened the door and reached inside for my purse and sunglasses, while Kaleigh hurried around to the other side. I had to lean across the driver’s seat to rifle through the glove compartment for the papers I would need. I decided to leave the empty coffee cup in the drink holder.

When we had everything we needed and had cleared out of the way, Kaleigh and I paused to watch the tow truck driver loop a chain around the axle. Then we followed Officer Wallace to his paddy wagon.

“Say good-bye to that car,” I said to Kaleigh, “because I doubt we’ll be driving it again. And let me just say that I’m very proud of you.”

“What for?” she asked.

“For keeping your cool. You were incredibly brave.”

“Was I?” she replied. “That’s a surprise, because I was never so scared in my life.”

Chapter Thirty

Not long after we left the accident scene, Officer Wallace asked me why I’d been having a rough year.

I glanced over my shoulder to check on Kaleigh in the back seat. She was texting her friends, or probably Tweeting that she was riding in a cop car.

I told him about Seth dying in a plane crash.

His eyebrows lifted. “Wait a second. You were married to the mountain climber? That was
you
?”

I nodded.

“When was that?” he asked. “Like eight months ago? God, that
is
rough. I’m sorry. Did they ever find the wreckage?”

“No,” I replied. “They called off the search after about a week. It was really difficult.”

“It must have been,” he said. “Were you able to have any kind of memorial service?”

My mind flashed back to the day when we all gathered at the church to say good-bye. There had been no coffin. All we had was a giant black-and-white photograph of Seth displayed on a shiny brass easel. He’d been climbing a glacier somewhere in New Zealand and had removed his goggles to smile for the camera.

“Yes,” I replied. “We held a nice service about four months ago. It was supposed to give us closure, but I still can’t stop thinking about the crash. I’m desperate for answers about where it happened and why. It’s terrible that we never found out. And where no bodies were recovered…” I stopped myself. “God, I’m sorry, Officer Wallace. I shouldn’t be talking like this. How depressing.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “And call me Josh.”

Thankful for his understanding, I sighed and looked out the window at the houses passing by and wondered why I sometimes believed that Seth and I weren’t done yet. That this wasn’t over.

Strangely, that feeling had begun to intensify in the past month or so. Every time I felt it, I wondered if something unexpected was about to happen. I was always waiting for the phone to ring.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the phone
would
ring just a couple of weeks later.

Laughter

Chapter Thirty-one

Carla

A few weeks after my car accident, I picked up the new replacement vehicle I’d ordered from the dealership and congratulated myself for having good insurance—though my premiums did go up.

Kaleigh loved the new car but was growing increasingly disinterested in figure skating. She begged me to let her quit and take guitar lessons instead.

After some discussion about the importance of personal growth and seeing something through, even when it was difficult, she won me over by making an excellent case for the importance of following your dreams. In the end, and partly because guitar lessons were so much more affordable than figure skating, I agreed to let her quit.

The very next day, I enrolled her in a weekly group guitar lesson with the promise of private lessons after Christmas if she enjoyed it and practiced every day. I also went online and found what I thought to be a decent instrument—second hand of course.