Page 91 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
“Do you think...?” Norah couldn’t say it aloud. Couldn’t express herself in a way she felt would make sense.
“What?” Ralph gave her a sideways look. The familiar overall strap dropped over his shoulder, and Norah fought the urge to straighten it.
“Do you think any of us could’ve stopped it? Could’ve done something for Otto, for Naomi, even for LeRoy that would’ve maybe shaped their lives into taking a different path?”
Ralph snorted. “Doubtful. Don’t mean to sound bitter, but my brother’s got a messed-up head, and it looks like he hid the fact his whole life. We can’t prepare for that. No way.”
“But I mean—”
“Can you change what’s comin’ in life?” Ralph looked at her directly, stating her thoughts more bluntly than she felt she should.
Norah simply nodded.
Ralph shook his head and pointed at the graves before them. “Those folks lived life and then died—who knows what they saw and had to suffer through? We can’t be afraid to live just ’cause we’re afraid of dyin’. Seems to me we’d be better off seekin’ out the truth of it.”
Norah frowned. “The truth of what?”
“The truth of what comes after,” Ralph said with a shrug. “People say Isabelle Addington haunts this place, but I ain’t never seen her. You ain’t never seen her. Every time we thought we saw her, it was that gal Lyla. Poor kid. So alone in the world, ain’t no one cared she went missin’. So you see, peopleseethings, but do they really? My momma once said that if you have hope in the hereafter, then thenowain’t scary no more.”
“But how do we have that hope?” Norah felt like she was beingblasphemous even asking such a thing. There were so many beliefs these days, so many theories and philosophies, yet if she dared not ask if God was real and why He allowed evil to exist in the world, then how could she ever know the truth? How could she stop being afraid when truth had no standard and no foundation, but instead was whatever a person made up to make themself feel better?
Ralph wiped his nose on his sleeve, sniffing, whether because of emotion or a runny nose, Norah wasn’t sure. He eyed her for a moment before offering a reply to her question. “Sometimes, Norah, it’s as simple as believin’ what was said and what’s never been proven to be wrong.”
“What’s that?” Norah whispered.
Ralph gave her a pat on the knee. “That we’re all a bunch of screwups. God ain’t.”
“He let Naomi die,” Norah challenged without regret.
Ralph nodded. “Yup. He did. But He left you to live. So live, Norah. Believe there haven’t been mistakes, only a busted-up old world in need of hope.” He shoved off his knees and stood, hefting a sigh and nodding toward the graveyard. “I got work to do.”
Norah watched him shuffle away. There were no easy answers and yet, in a way, the answers had been there all along. Live. Hope. Believe. Surrender. They were difficult words. Impossible most of the time.
But hope was something 322 Predicament Avenue hadn’t had living in it for years. Maybe it was time to let hope move in.
Harper grinned at Norah and rolled her eyes. “I had one bad night, and you all think I’m made of glass.”
“No,” Sebastian retorted from the doorway. “I’m just realizin’ that my little lass needs some TLC.”
“I’m nineteen, Dad,” Harper laughed.
Norah could sense the shift between father and daughter.There hadn’t been any miraculous come-to-Jesus moments or mind-blowing emotional reunions. It just seemed that night Lyla had terrified Harper in her room and Sebastian had been faced not only with the fragility of his daughter but also his future grandchild ...grandchild?—Norah reined in her thoughts—well, it seemed Sebastian had experienced some sort of revelation that it was time he be aninvolvedfather. That wasted time was a form of death he didn’t want to face and really didn’t need to face. Death of a relationship, at least in this case with Harper, was avoidable.
“Fine,” Harper said, “I’ll stay in bed the rest of the evening and night, but tomorrow I’m up. Okay? The doctor didn’t order bed rest for nine months. He only advised rest for a day or two. And it’s been four.” She leveled a stern glare on her dad.
Norah bit back a smile.
“Good,” Sebastian conceded, then raised a finger. “But you aren’t goin’ anywhere unless you check with me.”
“Okay, okay,” Harper said, rolling her eyes again.
Sebastian gave Norah a look she couldn’t quite interpret. “I’ll be out back.” He left, leaving Norah and Harper to stare at each other, holding their breaths and then laughing the moment they were sure he was out of earshot.
“Oh my gosh!” Harper’s eyes were wide. “I always wanted Dad to be more involved, but I might regret this.”
“You won’t.” Norah smiled and adjusted a blanket for something to do, then motioned to the music box on Harper’s nightstand. “I’m not sure if you want that or not. I know it was creepy when you first heard it, but—”
“But it was Naomi’s,” Harper finished. She reached out and touched Norah’s hand. “I’m honored you want me to have it. I’m honored LeRoy Anderson is letting you keep one of his family heirlooms.”
