Ichabod & Penelope by Suzanne D. Williams

Author:Suzanne D. Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: juvenile relationships, juvenile fiction, teenage romance, young adult romance, Christian fiction, short stories, 90 minute reads, values & virtues, emotions & feelings, family, religious fiction, clean & wholesome, suspense, mysteries, coming of age
Publisher: Suzanne D. Williams
Published: 2015-03-20T00:00:00+00:00

“HAVE I TOLD YOU HOW beautiful you are?” he asked me.

I leaned my head on Ichabod’s shoulder and swung my legs off the dock. “A hundred times at least. You’re spoiling me.”

The sunset was settling in the waters of the lake allowing twilight to take over. A street lamp behind us snapped on with a distinct buzz, a dozen moths finding its light within seconds.

“I’d take a picture of this,” I said. “Except it wouldn’t do it justice.”

He looked away from me and toward the horizon. “No, pictures are never quite as good.”

There was weight to his words, hidden meaning. He laid his hand over mine and curved his fingers into my palm. “We should talk,” he said. “About who we are.”

“Okay. I’ll go first. I’m an only child. My parents live about two hours from here.”

I thought that’s what he meant, tell more personal stuff. Get to know each other. Up to that point in the evening our conversation had been pretty trivial. But he was extremely quiet, and after a moment, I glanced at him. “You okay?” I asked.

“Mmm. Just deciding whether or not to tell you the truth.”

Curious, I didn’t speak.

“Not that I’m in the habit of lying, but the truth is painful.”

“You don’t have to,” I began. But he’d apparently made up his mind to say whatever bothered him because he released my fingers.

“No, I do. I want this too bad.”

This what? This, me and him? Was that what’d he meant, and if so, then he was trying to do what? Sabotage it?

“Don’t,” I said. “If it bothers you, forget it. We have tonight.”

“And tomorrow we find out who the other one is, and it all comes back. No, I have to tell you, and then whatever you do with it is up to you.”

He was hurting, and I couldn’t understand why. We’d had a great evening. Dinner. Dessert. We talked about many things – his biking. He’d shown me the gash in his leg. We compared food likes and dislikes. I’d said I didn’t drink, and he’d said he didn’t either. We’d avoided the subject of school. That had seemed an unsafe topic for not finding each other out, though we had briefly talked about Brad.

Then he’d brought me here to the lake and it was so beautiful. Only now ... now, he wanted to tell me whatever was bothering him, and all I could do was listen.

“I have no family,” he said. “Except somewhere out there ...” He waved his hand toward the lake. “I have a sister. Her name is Mercy. But I barely remember her. She’s younger than me by about twenty months.”

“Wh-what happened to her?”

“Foster care. They took us from our parents and sent us in different directions. I went to live with a nice couple who took care of me, encouraged me in school, bought me all those parent things. But they aren’t my parents.”

“You don’t love them?” she asked.

He shrugged. “In a way, yes.”

He didn’t offer to explain, and I didn’t ask.

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