Paint Chips by Finkbeiner Susie

Author:Finkbeiner, Susie [Finkbeiner, Susie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: WhiteFire Publishing
Published: 2013-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

Cora – 31

“I’ve been thinking about Steven a lot the past few days,” I told Lisa, cracking eggs into a mixing bowl. “More than usual.”

It was Wednesday morning. The rest of the residents scribbled away in art therapy. Dr. Emmert had given me a reprieve so that I could spend my time with Lisa. I appreciated the break greatly. Lisa had even brought ingredients to make cookies. The day had taken on an enjoyable shape.

“I think that’s a really great thing, Cora. Right?” she said, sneaking a chocolate chip. “What kind of things have you been remembering?”

“Oh, just some of the little things about him. I’m almost embarrassed by the insignificance of what I’ve been remembering.”

“Like what?”

“Well, one of the things I thought of was how he liked me to add cinnamon to the coffee grounds before I brewed it.” I reached for the chocolate. “Leave some for the cookies, please.”

“Right. Sorry.” She handed me the bag. “You know, I think that sometimes the little memories are the most refreshing.”

“Oh, and every night after brushing his teeth he would tap his toothbrush three times on the edge of the sink. It drove me nuts. I was sure it was unsanitary. I scrubbed that sink every day to make sure it wouldn’t make his toothbrush germy.”

Lisa chuckled.

I let the mixer whirl through the cookie dough.

“And he loved me.” My voice barely above a whisper, hardly audible. “I do remember that. He loved me so deeply. I really believe he wouldn’t have thought less of me for all that happened when I was young. And I know he would have forgiven me for keeping it from him.”

I turned off the mixer, leaving the room quiet.

“So, have you forgiven yourself?” Lisa asked after the silent pause.

“Nearly.” I kept my eyes on the spoon as I dropped lumps of cookie dough on the baking sheet. I raised my head and turned my eyes up to gaze through the window. “Look at that.”

Lightning flashed bright against the darkened sky. The tree branches swayed, the leaves flapping wildly.

“It’s going to be a doozy of a storm,” Lisa said.

“And his favorite Bible story,” I said. “I keep thinking about it.”

“Let me guess.” She squinted in thought. “The storm on the sea.”

“That’s right. How did you know?”

“Oh, just a lucky guess.” She smiled. “I figured this storm made you think of it.”

“As I remember it from Sunday school, Jesus slept in the boat through a deadly storm that His fishermen disciples couldn’t seem to handle. I don’t know how He could have slept through that.”

“What else do you remember from the story?”

“Well, His friends were crying out to Him. Didn’t they ask Him why He didn’t care? Why He wouldn’t do anything to help them?” I slid the cookie sheet into the oven.

“They did. They were terrified. And do you remember what happened next?”

“No. For some reason I can’t recall that part.”

“Jesus woke up.”

“He did?” I closed the oven.

“Yes.”

“And did He help them?” I stood upright, put my hands on my hips.

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