in my ears. I find a soft country playlist and push the button to start it, hoping the music will drown my memories of the accident so I can sleep. Soon Iris begins to sing softly along with the song, so I make the music louder. I wish she’d go somewhere far away and stay there. I’m not sure I believe that she didn’t know what was going to happen. Her strange excuse about warning me doesn’t make sense.
I close my eyes to shut out the world. And close my heart to Iris. But sometime later, as I’m finally nodding off, Dad’s voice comes to me, his words woven into the melody that drifts through my ears. We thought we did the right thing. . . .
When I awake the next morning on the couch, every muscle in my body is sore, and there’s no sign of Addie or Mom. Anxious to check on Cookie, I take a quick shower, then throw on a pair of jeans and an old long-sleeved T-shirt with a pointing finger and the words You Need a Lobotomy on it that I stole from Wyatt. Without bothering to dry my hair, I hurry downstairs again and, this time, find Addie sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper.
She glances up. “Morning, sugar.” Folding the paper, she places it on the table beside her and motions toward the coffeemaker on the kitchen counter. “Coffee’s hot. Can I get you some?”
“I’ll get it.”
“Did you sleep?”
I take a mug from the cabinet. “I didn’t wake up once all night.” Wondering why I’m still so exhausted, I pour coffee into the mug, then add half-and-half and two packets of sweetener. “Has Dr. Trujillo called?”
“No. Wyatt stopped by a minute ago on his way to school. He said Dr. Trujillo wants you to call the clinic at eight.” She glances at her watch. “Just five more minutes.”
I sit in the chair next to her. “Where’s Mom? She isn’t still sleeping, is she?”
“She’s outside in your dad’s workshop.”
“Doing what?”
“I’m not sure. She was up making coffee at five thirty so I got up, too. She took her cup and said she was heading out there. She seemed skittish as a colt, so I didn’t question her.” Addie shakes her head. “Poor thing.”
“I’ll check on her after I call the vet,” I say. Setting my mug down, I push back from the table and reach for the phone book on the counter behind me.
“Will you eat some breakfast?” Addie asks.
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
She catches my attention and holds it as I’m opening the phone book in my lap. “I’m not going to tell you that you’ll get over this, because you won’t,” Addie says softly. “I still miss Dave like crazy, every single day. And even though it’s been more than twenty years since my folks passed, I still miss them, too. But with time, the pain will ease up and you’ll find yourself remembering the good times with your dad instead of the accident.”
I prop an elbow on the table and cover my face. “It shouldn’t have happened,” I cry. “It didn’t have to. I could’ve stopped it if—”
“Don’t, Lily.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Blaming yourself won’t change a thing. The accident wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”
She’s wrong, but I can’t tell her that. If only Iris had given me a clearer idea of the danger ahead before we left, I would’ve told Dad that I didn’t want to go. “Thank you for being here, Addie,” I say, wiping tears from my cheeks. “You’re the best.”
I find Dr. Trujillo’s number and call him while Addie busies herself in the kitchen. When I’m off the phone, she asks, “Is everything okay?”
“Cookie was in a lot of pain last night. He’s doped up and resting now. Dr. Trujillo wants to keep him another day or two for observation.” My voice wavers. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Addie folds a cup towel and lays it on the counter. “I know you’re disappointed.”
I press my lips together and nod. Putting the phone book away, I cross the room, and take my coat from the rack beside the door.
“Lily.” Her solemn voice stops me. “I hate to bring this up, but the funeral home called. You and your mother will need to let them know what to do. If you want to have a service, and—”