Echo of a Bird's Cry

THE HERO ANGEL NOVEMBER 22

Eden is outside with Sandy when I return home. I told everyone to take their time coming back. I need to talk to Eden alone. I watch her run and play with Sandy. Sandy tires her out with a long game of fetch. Each time Sandy brings the stick back Eden throws it further and further. They both collapse in a pile of autumn leaves. I sit on the porch and watch them. Eden brushes the golden orange leaves off her sweater. She smiles as she and Sandy walk toward me.

"Hey."

"Hi," I say.

She sits next to me and Sandy plops her butt on my feet. "Where did everyone go?"

"We need to talk, Eden."

She stiffens at my harsh tone. "Okay. What's on your mind?"

"You have to see someone. You need to talk to a professional. I've done some research and I found the top rated psychologists in North Carolina. There's even one in Ravenwood. Her name is Dr. Connie and she's looking forward to meeting you."

Her delicate brows furrow. "What are you talking about? Why do I need to see a psychologist?"

"Ashely called everyone together to show us the video of you breaking into their home. Jesus Christ, Eden, you were hiding under their bed like a common thief."

"I was only trying—"

"Enough. There will be no more excuses. You will meet with Dr. Connie. I will take you to see her myself."

"But, Angel—"

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "I said enough. Ashely's pregnant, Eden. You can't harass them anymore. You have to leave them alone. You have to let them live their lives. I will help you move on, Eden. But you have to stop this."

I walk away from her. Otherwise, Eden will draw me into her trap of being a wrongly accused victim and honestly I'm tired of that narrative.

***

I find myself people watching again. It's a soccer game at a local park this time. A point is scored and the small crowd cheers. A blonde haired woman in a dark gray coat and blue jeans sits next to me on the bench. She smiles and something about her blue eyes seem familiar.

"Are you Angel Willmore?"

"Yes."

"My name is Mary. I was wondering if I could ask a favor from you?"

I frown at her. "I don't talk to reporters."

Her smile is shaky. "I'm not a reporter."

"Then, what can I do for you?"

"Are you close to Abel?"

I nod. "What about him?"

Her blues dart around nervously. "I'm Abel's mother and I'd like to really see my son."

It takes everything within me to keep my expression composed. "Why didn't you reach out to him instead?"

Her fingers fidget with the red twine of string around her wrist. "I'm not welcomed. I doubt that I would get very far. I've thought about it and I think having you initiate this reunion for us will have a better outcome."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because he's more likely to listen to his friend than his mother that he barely knows."

I rub at my eyes that suddenly feel heavy and tired. "I don't think I should get involved. Abel has enough going on. I don't think he would appreciate me bringing you to his doorstep."