Scars That Heal by Megan Ashley Powell

Author:Megan Ashley Powell [Powell, Megan Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christan YA Fiction
Publisher: Ambassador International
Published: 2022-05-17T00:00:00+00:00

18

Brantley

Brantley was surprised himself at how Preacher Bill’s message seemed to be directed right toward Lyndie. After the service, Brantley and Lyndie had lunch with his grandparents at their home. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as the breeze from the sea blew her hair as they sat on the screened-in porch. Brantley could tell her mind was a million miles away. He put his hand on top of hers and gave her a slight smile, giving her the space he felt that she needed.

19

Lyndie

When Brantley had to go help his grandpa with something, she decided to go chat with his grandma Jean. “Hey, Mrs. Jean, do you need help with anything? It smells wonderful in here.”

“Oh, honey just call me Jean. And, well, if you could fill up four glasses of tea, that would be wonderful; you like sweet tea, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. So what is on the menu?” Lyndie asked.

“Shrimp and grits, sweet tea, key lime pie for dessert. This has always been my favorite meal; the guys get tired of it, so I have to wait for special occasions to cook it now.”

“Well, shrimp and grits is one of my favorites.”

They made small talk as they fixed the meal. Lyndie really liked Jean and found it easy to connect with her. The meal was delicious, and she enjoyed Brantley and his family’s company. After dinner, Brantley helped his papa with something on his car outside while she and Jean drank coffee on the porch.

“So Brantley tells me you are going to school to be an art teacher,” Jean said.

“Yeah, I always loved art in school but had a hard time in other classes. Art was always my best subject.”

“I’ve always loved art, too. I try to paint sometimes, but I’m definitely no Picasso,” Jean said with a chuckle.

“That’s the great thing about art, though—you don’t have to be good to enjoy it. It’s always been my personal therapy.”

“I can see that. It’s kind of like when I read my Bible or pray. That’s my therapy.”

Lyndie hesitated. “Yeah, that used to be mine when I was young, too, but I’ve found it difficult these past years.”

“Oh, we all go through those times when it’s hard to pray. You will get back to it; you just have to keep trying.”

“Well, you see, I let myself drift out of church when I went to college. It’s not exactly been something I’ve done for a while,” said Lyndie.

Jean laid her hand on Lyndie’s. “You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. Whatever doubts you’re having about Him, He’s there. He understands.”

Lyndie felt oddly comfortable. She liked talking to Jean, and she could tell where Brantley got his easy-going personality. She spent a little while longer there and then, as the sun was starting to set, decided it was time to head back. She hugged Brantley’s grandparents goodbye, and Brantley walked her to her car. She felt his fingers thread through her own, as if it was perfectly natural.

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