Wind Chimes

Chapter 1 The Funeral

The funeral was over, and for the first time in her life Maggie Tilford was alone. The death of her parents had come quickly and without warning. A second honeymoon to Hawaii had ended tragically for Jim and Magaret Tilford when the plane in which they were traveling plummeted into the ocean. 

The icy fingers of loneliness tugged at Maggie's heart as she sat by the living room window staring blankly at the field beyond. Her lips touched the rim of a half-empty goblet of Chardonnay. She consumed the contents then filled the glass again, sipping the wine slowly. She was mellowing, but the pain of loss and loneliness continued to gnaw at her. Would the emptiness ever go away? She knew there wasn't enough wine in the world to erase her pain; only God could mend her broken heart, but God seemed far away. 

She hadn't felt the full impact of her loss until after the funeral, when friends and neighbors had left, leaving her in the big empty farmhouse to grieve alone. She had no siblings and no close relatives. The following week she would turn twenty-five, and had planned to move from her parent's home to a place of her own. She had saved enough money over the years to buy a townhouse in the city near her work, but the death of her parents had changed all that. Now she had a home of her own; nine huge rooms and an attic. This wasn't in the original plan, but none-the-less that's the way fate had dealt the cards. 

The house was old. The floors creaked, and the windows rattled when the wind blew across the meadow. It's impossible to live here alone with all the memories, she thought, and the upkeep is beyond my capability. The situation was overwhelming, and decisions needed to be made quickly. The sale of the house and property was imminent, and the sooner the better. Tomorrow she would sort through her parent's personal effects. Next she would choose the furniture she wanted to keep, then auction off the rest. The acreage would be included with the sale of the house; 150 acres of rich Indiana farmland. 

She rested her head on the back of her chair and closed her eyes. Outside the evening sun ad disappeared below the tree line, and darkness was falling over the meadow. The bottle of wine was empty, and Maggie’s eyes grew heavy. She was relaxed and ready for sleep. Lazily she pulled herself out of the chair, turned on the hall light, and slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom, leaving the door to her room partially open to allow light from the hall to trickle in. 

Sleepily she put on a pair of pajamas and fell into bed, snuggling beneath the patchwork quilt her mother had made from scraps of Maggie's childhood dresses. The quilt was tattered from years of use, but it was one of her prized possessions. She would never part with it. Herman, the orange Tabby, curled up beside her and purred contentedly. She gave him a gentle hug and then drifted off to sleep. 

Shortly before dawn she woke up with the despair of sadness. Would it ever go away? Tears filled her eyes as she thought about her parents. She tried to put the ordeal of their death out of her mind, but it embedded itself into her brain like an incurable disease. She felt suffocated by the aloneness. Please, God, make it go away, she pleaded. But it didn't go away. She fell back into a fitful sleep, and was awaken at noontime by the light of the noonday sun filtering through her bedroom window. A gentle breeze floated through the lace curtains, lifting them gently in all directions. 

Herman swiped his soft paw across her cheek reminding her it was past feeding time. Ordinarily he stayed in the barn, but Maggie was all alone in the rambling old house, so she allowed him inside for company. 

Still a bit groggy, she followed Herman downstairs. As she entered the kitchen, her heart ached as she glanced at the pine trestle table, where so many happy meals had been served. Herman hopped up onto the Hoosier cabinet where his food was stored. He watched anxiously as Maggie reached for a can of shrimp and tuna, his favorite. The cat purred like a lion as she snapped the metal ring and pulled back the top of the tin. The aroma of its contents caused him to dance ecstatically in circles of anticipation. He engaged wholeheartedly, attacking the food as though he hadn't eaten in a week, and in no time he had devoured the entire tin. After eating he washed his face--a ritual he performed by dipping his front paws into his water bowl--then ambled contentedly into the living room where he jumped onto a chair for an afternoon nap. 

Unlike Herman, Maggie had no appetite. Sadly the wine from the night before had left her with a slight headache. Thinking the pain in her head might go away if she had something to eat, she ate a bowl of cereal and a drank cup of fresh black coffee. 

Maggie stood under the tepid flow of the shower, allowing the soothing water to cover body, leaving her relaxed and refreshed. After drying with a thick towel, she slipped into a pair of faded jeans. As she pulled them up over her hips, she noticed they afforded more room around her waist than usual. That came as no surprise since she hadn't eaten a square meal in a week. Her petite frame couldn't afford to shed much more weight without appearing anorexic. 

The first order of the day was to sort through her parent's clothing, selecting the better items for charity and discarding the rest. With dread Maggie took a deep breath and opened the door to her mother's closet..