CH8

Hello, Amelia. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get here," he said, moving to the meeting room table. He pulled out a chair and settled into it gingerly. "Come. Sit next to me. We have things to talk about."

Eyes studying him, Amelia climbed into the chair. This close she saw the fine wrinkles of age on his face, skin sagging under his sharp and observant eyes.

He held out his hand. "How rude of me. Please forgive my lack of manners. My name is Darren Faith," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Amelia shook his hand. It was dry and papery, liver spots on the back of them. "I don't understand," she said.

He cleared his throat and smiled. "I know. Just bear with me and you will. I've come to help you."

"Help me what?" Amelia asked.

"Find your voice again," he said gently, leaning closer to her.

Tears brimmed in her eyes uncontrollably. "How did you know?" she whispered.

He smiled, a gentle smile, comforting. "I know everything, Amelia. I know you have a beautiful voice and it left you when your Mom and Dad died. I know how you can't look at a piano anymore without being sad and how, when you do, all you see is your mother sitting next to you teaching you how to play.

"I know how scared you've been and how you cry yourself to sleep at night. I know how confused you've been, and how hard it's been to adjust to living here in California when you don't know anyone.

"I know everything, Amelia. I'm here to answer your questions. I'm here to help you find your voice," he said softly.

Amelia said nothing. A tear welled and fell, brushed aside with the back of her hand. She stared at him. "How do you know all that?" she asked softly.

"That's a long story. You have to trust me. I know." He smiled kindly, his bright pale blue eyes studying her. His smile broadened, perfectly even ivory teeth showing. As if hearing her think, he commented, "That's a good question. Go ahead and ask me."

Amelia paused, wondering how he knew what question popped into her head. Steeling herself, she asked in a small voice, "Did they really go to Heaven?"

There was a short silence before he answered, his expression compassionate, kindly. "Yes, they really did. God needed them."

"Why? I need them."

"God needs them more. But they're happy, Amelia. Your Mom and Dad watch you every day. They're proud of you. They want you to be happy." He paused, studied her, and smiled gently. "That's why I'm here."

"Are you an angel?" Amelia asked, her voice a whisper. He didn't look like one.

Darren Faith chuckled. "No. I'm no angel. I'm just a voice. Speaking of voices, do you miss yours?"

Amelia nodded.

Darren Faith leaned closer to her and said in almost a whisper, "I'll tell you a secret. Your voice didn't leave you. It's just hiding."

"Where?" Amelia asked.

"Inside you."

"Why?"

Darren patted her forearm gently. "Like you, it's scared and sad. But it's there, Amelia, waiting to come back." He smiled. "You were meant to sing. You were meant to share your gift with the world and you will."

Amelia wasn't sure. Could she believe him?

He patted her arm again, a grandfatherly touch, and sat upright. "You're going to have a long and happy life. You're going to be celebrated and loved, and you're going to experience the joy of singing again. You know how I know?"

Amelia shook her head.

"Because Heaven has a plan for you, Amelia. Because your Mom and Dad believe in you. Because you have a gift to give the world that cannot be hidden away. Because in your heart you're dying to sing."

He leaned in towards her and smiled. "Your mom told me to tell you, 'Just start by humming it in your mind, sweetheart.'"

A flood of tears returned unbidden. Amelia remembered Mom telling her exactly that every time she struggled with a song. Was it that simple?

He passed her a linen handkerchief. She dried her eyes and handed it back. "Thank you."

Darren cleared his throat again. "Well, I've taken too much of your time, young lady." He stood and buttoned his overcoat up, picking up his hat from the meeting room table. "Hmmm. Yes, better get along."

Walking towards the door, he paused and turned back. "How thoughtless of me. I forgot to mention. You're a very lucky lady." With a twinkle in his eyes, he added, "Your future husband is quite the man."

Nodding he grabbed the door handle and paused again. "Incase you're interested, he's a man by the name of Michael Hope. He'll fall in love with your voice first, then your eyes, and then fall in love with the rest of you. He'll have trouble thinking around you. I dare say it will be amusing to see. Well, nice meeting you, Amelia."

With a tip of his hat and a smile, he left, the door closing behind him.

Amelia rolled in her bed, turning onto her side, the party noise from downstairs ignored. In her mind, she saw Mike and smiled.

That strange man, Darren Faith, had been right about so much. She'd started humming to herself in her mind, the songs she loved, the ones Mom had taught her.

Within the week, she started humming aloud. A few days later her voice came back, filling her soul with joy, freeing her spirit. She sang for an audience of two; Mom and Dad. With her voice, she found peace.

But Mike was altogether different. She could still picture him peeking over the fence with that expression on his face, as if he'd been smacked over the head. And the croaking! So funny! She liked him, but didn't love him; not like she loved Mom and Dad.

As she did every night, Amelia hummed a song, seeing the notes dance through her mind, such a magical and beautiful language. She wasn't conscious of her fingers moving with the music.