A Second Chance in the Show Me State - Jessie Gussman Page 0,41
his mom’s house.
The ladies had gone into the house to look at paint samples, since Ivory was making final decisions on her kitchen in the new house that she and Chandler were building.
Chandler had gone in as well, saying that he needed to supervise the situation and make sure that his kitchen didn’t end up pink.
Loyal was putting food away, and Clark and Marlowe, neither of whom had ever grown up, were out playing flashlight tag with the children. Which left Zane, Deacon, and Reid to watch as the fire burned down to embers.
“If you’re still worried about Pastor Wyatt, Waverley and I don’t mind taking Tinsley, if you want to go see him tomorrow.” Zane leaned down, his forearms on his knees, his hands loosely clasped between them. His gaze watched the fire, never leaving it as he spoke.
Deacon nodded. “I might take you up on that. I don’t know that he needs to be taken out or just to be reminded that it’s okay to grieve, but his mindset needs to shift just a little.”
Reid didn’t say anything, but he supposed his mindset could use a reset too. Not that he was close to being depressed or anything, but life was short. Eight years was a lot of time to waste. And that’s what it was. Wasted. He didn’t want to let another eight years go by, and look back on that, and think it was wasted as well.
“Do you really think he’s that bad?” Zane asked gently.
Deacon shrugged. “I don’t have to tell you that most of the time we don’t say the things that we know we shouldn’t be thinking to begin with. I just think he’s forgotten, or maybe he’s not remembering, that a better day is coming.”
They all stared at the fire a little bit before Deacon started to sing.
As we travel through the desert,
Storms beset us by the way.
But beyond the river Jordan,
Lies a field of endless day.
It was a song they’d sung a lot growing up, and Zane and Reid had no problem coming in with harmony on the chorus.
Farther on, still go farther,
Count the milestones one by one.
Jesus will forsake you never,
It is better farther on.
Their family had sung a lot together when they were younger. It might not be as natural as breathing, but it was as natural as farming. There was something about singing together that bonded a family.
Deacon started singing again, but it wasn’t a verse that should be sung alone, so Reid joined him in harmony.
Oh my brother are you weary
Of the roughness of the way?
Does your strength begin to fail you
And your vigor to decay?
He made a mental note to himself that he wanted to sing more with his boys. Singing was one of the many things his dad had been good at. Singing around the table, in the car, on special occasions when they had everyone over. They’d even taken hayrides in the summer, and he remembered belting out tunes, usually hymns, at the top of his lungs while sitting on the back of a wagon, bouncing down the back roads of their farm. Emerson would remember that.
Farther on, still go farther,
Count the milestones one by one.
Jesus will forsake you never,
It is better farther on.
Deacon began the third verse and Reid thought of Pastor Wyatt and the sadness he’d been going through after losing his wife. He could almost hear Lynette’s voice in the words as they sang together.
At my grave, oh, still be singing,
Though you weep for one that's gone,
Sing it as we once did sing it,
"It is better, Farther on!"
Farther on, still go farther,
Count the milestones one by one.
Jesus will forsake you never,
It is better farther on.
Chapter 13
Emerson would have had a good time this evening. She had always fit right in with his family. With six boys, they could be a little overwhelming to some people. But Emerson had grown up with him, and she was used to all his brothers. He was sorry she missed it.
Plus, his mom had always liked her. Not that there were too many people his mom didn’t like, but she seemed to have a special place in her heart for Emerson. And Emerson adored her. At least she always had.
They carried their mostly empty dishes into the house, with the boys following him, whispering again.
Emerson sat at the table and looked up from her laptop when they opened the door. Her face did not hold animosity, so either she really was okay, or maybe she noticed