Song of Renewal Read Online Free PDF Page A

tripped over him at times, Garrison had never ceased to be charmed. “Hi, Troy,” he said warmly. “Come on in, you two. What’s happening?”
    Troy gave Garrison a big grin. “Hi, Mr. Wakefield.” He stepped forward and extended his hand. Garrison grasped it in a hearty handshake. “Sorry to disturb you.”
    “S’okay,” Garrison said politely, though it wasn’t okay at all. He had a deadline to meet. He turned his attention to his daughter, who seemed fidgety, a sign that she was about to dump some unwelcome agenda upon him.
    Angel’s fair hair shimmered in the light of the desk lamp. The cloudy day had brought an early dusk, rashly dimming the chamber. Her blue eyes, so clear one could almost see through them, held a note of pleading, which made him feel, suddenly less than he wanted to be. But he was, after all, working.
    “Daddy,” she drew the word out into four syllables, her appeal dialect. “Today’s Troy’s birthday. I baked him a cake. We just cut it. Here, I brought you a piece.” She placed the plate on the desk corner and shot her boyfriend a quick grin. “So…may Troy and I go to the concert at the Bi-Lo Center? The Vines are a group we really, really want to hear. He has tickets.”

    Garrison inhaled deeply, and then tiredly blew it out. “Happy birthday, Troy. Eighteen, is it?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Garrison shook his head in disbelief. “Amazing how time flies. Eighteen, huh? That was a good year,” Garrison muttered, a lopsided, weary smile grazing his lips. He addressed Angel then as his mouth settled into a grim line. “Thanks for the cake, Angel. I’ll eat it later. As for the concert,” Garrison’s head moved from side to side decisively. “No. I’m sorry about the tickets, Troy, I truly am, but no.” The denial was abrupt and final as his chair swiveled away.
    “But why-y?” Angel pealed, instantly distraught.
    “Why?” Garrison spun around again and glared at her as though she’d lost her senses. “Listen to that rain, Angel. You don’t go out in weather like this. It’s dangerous.”
    “Daddy,” Angel whined, “you’re being overprotective.”
    “Maybe so,” Garrison said over his shoulder. “But my job is to keep you safe.” He hated to say no to Angel, but this time his refusal was justified. Was he overprotective? Maybe. That he and Liza could not have more children was not even in the equation. If he had ten children, he’d still say no. Garrison returned to his sketching, the one thing he did enjoy about this work. The creation.
    Long moments passed. A rustle of movement at his elbow startled Garrison.
    “You’re so talented, Daddy,” Angel said.
    He turned and squinted up at her, annoyance filtering through. “I thought you left. Where’s Troy?”
    “Downstairs.” She smiled a bit nervously, licked her lips, and gazed appealingly at her father. “Daddy, please, please let us go to the concert.” She stooped suddenly and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek. “Please, pretty please! I’ll wash the Jag four times in a row and cut the grass for a month if you’ll just – ”

    He disentangled himself, not unkindly but firmly, then slowly removed his glasses. “Angel.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “You sound like your mother trying to get her way when it’s not exactly kosher. You don’t need to be on the roads tonight.” He looked at her then, his face empty with fatigue. “Sorry, honey, but the answer is still no.”
    He swiveled in his chair once more and resumed his work. A moment later, he heard Angel leave the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

    “Mama, you know how much I want to see the Vines.” Angel jiggled her propped sneakered foot against the bar stool, her mouth pouty. “It starts in just a couple of hours.”
    Mama looked over her shoulder from where she stood at the kitchen sink. “What did Daddy say?”
    “He said no. Just that. No.” To her way of thinking, that was the bottom line.
    Mama looked