carpet.
The sound of my nails scrapping against the hardwood floors brought me to the present. Cinnamon and spices lingered in my memories, in the air.
Fighting for breath, I inhaled and forced myself to breathe. I’d survived Victor Williams, and I’d survive Cameron Jefferies.
Ma lived a few miles outside of Atlanta, so I’d stay with her for now. She wouldn’t mind. She hated being alone. With a plan, I continued to rock myself. Exhausted from the day, I leaned against the sofa and closed my eyes.
A creak woke me from my slumber. I took in my surroundings, grabbing the pillow on the bed.
Cam.
He must’ve carried me to our room. Wishful thoughts and wistful memories sped through my mind. I conjured up my father’s face, the last look he gave me before he sped his blue Caddy out of my life. My father’s face transformed into Cameron’s, the memory still fresh when he knelt in front of me, looked me in the eyes, and told me to leave my home. Squeezing my eyes shut, I turned off my heart and gave up the ghost of our relationship.
CHAPTER 10
Lost Ones—Kara
Heavy rain crashed against the window. Streaks of lightning split like rivers, igniting the sky. I loved a good downpour with wind, thunderbolts, and dark clouds. You couldn’t ignore a storm; you either sped up to get the hell out of the way or slowed down because you couldn’t go anywhere.
When I woke up in the morning, I spotted the gray clouds rolling across the sky. I knew I had to hurry so I could get the hell out of the way. Today was a special day, an anniversary. The day Mama passed away.
Passed.
It sounds as if she passed a test or passed a car on the road. Pass sounded like a choice, but the cancer didn’t give her much of one. Cancer robbed her of her future, yanked away her energy, and took her life. Cancer was a taker.
Today, like the year before, I put flowers on her grave. When I got to the cemetery, I’d spotted Father Frank hovering over Mama’s grave. I dare say she was his favorite parishioner. Mama had always volunteered for community outreach, dragging Tracey and me, and occasionally Daddy, along.
The flat cemetery gave me nowhere to hide.
“Kara Jones.” Father Frank had a light tilt in his voice, giving away his Irish upbringing, despite his being in the States since I was a little girl. He waited patiently by the grave, knowing my destination.
“Father Frank.” I sighed heavily.
“I miss seeing you at Mass. I’ve seen Tracey fairly regularly, even your father.”
“I’ve been busy studying.” I looked him dead in the eyes, lying to his face.
Despite the outright lie, Father Frank kept up his affable expression. “Ah, the wine test. One of Jesus’s finest miracles, I say.” He smiled, stretching his ruddy cheeks.
“Yes, because in a matter of seconds, Jesus was able to pick the grapes, crush and ferment, and then allow it to age. Sounds feasible.”
He placed his hand, a hand I once found comforting, on my shoulder. “But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.” He quoted the Bible.
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you,” I quickly fired back, shrugging away his embrace. “I asked, begged, pleaded for Mama to get well. Didn’t happen. I sought God, but couldn’t find Him. I knocked—no I banged on the door!” I yelled, breathing heavily. “No answer.”
“He did answer, Kara, but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. The cancer was aggressive. By the time Carla found out, it was too late.”
“Right. He can turn water into wine but He can’t remove the cancer from my mother?”
“Kara—”
“He can’t save my marriage! He can’t make my husband love me.” The blasphemy in my harsh words scraped against my spine, a coldness crawled over my skin. Taking a deep breath, my eyes sought Father Frank’s kind brown ones. I softened my tone but not the content. “Save the scriptures, Father Frank. I know God exists, I just don’t much care for Him. Now, can you leave me in peace to speak to my mother?”
He took a step back, disappointment etched on his face. “With your dear mother gone, and . . . and Darren, you think you’re alone, but you’re not. He will show you, if you just open up and listen.”
I blew a tired breath. “I