God's Gift - By Dee Henderson Page 0,8
the way she liked to spend an evening.
She opened the book.
A small piece of red colored paper fluttered down between the arm and the cushion of the seat.
Rae shifted in the seat, balancing her drink and the book in one hand to reach the item.
A Valentine’s Day card.
Leo’s bold signature signed beneath his “I Love You.”
The sob caught her off guard, emotion rushing to the surface before she could stop it.
No. No, she was done crying!
She wiped at the tears with the back of her sleeve, caught a couple deep breaths and forced them back. No. No more. She was done crying.
She got up.
It was hard, and her hand wavered, but she resolutely tucked the beautiful card in the box on the bookshelf where she kept the pictures she had yet to file in her scrapbook.
She wasn’t going to let a card do this to her. It was beautiful, and there was no one to send her I Love You cards anymore, but she wasn’t going to let the card affect her this way. No. She couldn’t.
The desire to read was gone.
She left the book resting on the armrest of the recliner and returned to the kitchen. The pizza had barely begun to cook.
Was it possible to simply decide to stop grieving?
She leaned against the counter and watched the pizza cook.
Was it possible to simply decide not to grieve anymore?
Rae rubbed her burning eyes and reached to the medicine cabinet for the aspirin bottle. Her head hurt.
God, I’ve decided I’m not going to cry anymore. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, and crying over the fact I flipped open a book and had a Valentine’s Day card he sent me fall out has got to stop. My life is full of reminders of him. He was in my life for ten years. He’s there, in scrapbooks, in snapshots, in little knickknacks around the house. He fixed my car, and helped build my bookshelves, he even tried to teach me how to make pizza. Work is filled with reminders of him, he is there in every decision and in every stock position we hold. God, I’m not going to grieve anymore. You’ve got to take away the pain. But I’m through crying. He’s gone.
She felt like she had been sideswiped by the same semi that had killed Leo.
When the pizza came out, she ate one piece and put the rest into the refrigerator, not hungry, not caring that she really needed to eat more than she had been in the last few months.
She took a hot shower and let the water fill the room with steam, cried her very last tears until she felt hollow inside, and quietly said goodbye.
She was going on with life. She only hoped it held something worth going on for.
“What do you think?” Kevin asked, leaning against the side of the construction trailer.
James looked out over the eighty acres of land Kevin was turning into a new subdivision of affordable homes and felt slightly stunned. “Kevin, you have done wonders with the business in six years.”
His friend laughed. “Believe me, it has more to do with you than you realize. The early days of the business established such a high-quality standard that almost overnight the business opportunities began to come to us faster than we could meet them.
“It was that house we built for Ben Paulson that turned the corner. He considered the construction so top-notch, that when he began to put together this community, he approached us with the business.”
“How’s the business mix—new construction versus additions, reconstruction?”
“It’s tipped sixty-forty toward new construction now. You want to take a look?” Kevin asked, motioning to the current homes being built.
“Please.”
They walked across the site to one of the framed-in homes. “We have five basic models going up in this subdivision. Most are selling before we even pour the foundation. This is the most popular model. Three bedrooms, two baths, with an open great room.”
“You’ve got a good architect.”
Kevin stepped into the studded kitchen. “Not as good as you,” he replied with a grin, “but Paul has an eye for both space and cost. He’s been a good addition to the team.”
Kevin stepped through what would someday be a patio door. “Of course, partner, when you get tired of Africa, we’ve got a lot of work to do here.”
James laughed. “I think you’ve got things well under control.” He looked around the staked-out lots and thought about what this place would look like in five years, full of