The Vigil by Marian P. Merritt

Author:Marian P. Merritt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781611164138
Publisher: Pelican Ventures Book Group
Published: 2015-09-20T04:00:00+00:00

Dix-Sept

Later that afternoon, after Steven’s game I gathered Mr. Bojangles and walked the few blocks to Mawmaw’s house. He ran circles around my feet during the entire walk. Was he excited about being outdoors or getting the treat he knew Mawmaw had waiting for him?

“Hello.” I walked into the back door. “Mawmaw?” Silence quickened my pulse. I ventured further into the house. “Mawmaw?” I raised my voice.

“Cheryl, in here.” Her muted voice drifted from her bedroom.

As I peered around the doorframe, my heart did a two-step. “Mawmaw, what are you doing?”

She stood on the top rung of her stepladder, leaning over to adjust the curtains over the window above her bed. “Just can’t get the curtains closed. Every morning a slit of sunshine hits me right smack dab in the eyes. I’m tired of it.”

“OK.” I held the ladder to keep it from tipping over. “Why don’t you come down and let me do that for you?”

She stretched a little more. “Almost got it.”

I held my breath. Please Lord, don’t let her fall.

Even Mr. Bojangles seemed to have stopped breathing. With his leash on the floor beside him, he waited at the door with his dark eyes fixed on Mawmaw.

“There.” She leaned back toward the center. “I think that’ll do it.”

I placed my hands on her sides and guided her off the ladder.

“Please don’t ever do that again.” I placed my hand on my heart. “You about scared me to death.”

“Oh, Cheryl, I’ve told you a million times not to exaggerate.” She flashed her mischievous smile toward me and then giggled.

“Mawmaw, you could have fallen and broken a bone. Then where would you be? Living with Mama, for sure.”

“Oh, thanks for painting that picture. C’mon, pooch, I’ve got your treat ready.” She walked toward the door and a bouncing Mr. Bojangles.

I followed behind, ladder in hand. “Please wait for one of us to do those things for you.”

She held up her hands. “OK, I give. Are we still going for our afternoon walk, or will you keep lecturing me?”

“Yes, our walk and no more lectures.”

“Good.” She fed the treat to my now impatient dog.

With Mr. Bojangles on my left side and Mawmaw on my right, we strolled our small neighborhood. Giant live oaks lined our street, their large out-reaching branches forming a canopy over our heads.

I wanted desperately to broach the subject of Carlton but didn’t feel the time was right. When would it be?

“Hear your brother’s gonna take that Guidry girl out again. ‘Bout time he gets off his keister and connects wit’ that girl. They were a good match.” Her walking cane tapped against the asphalt.

“Yep. I hope things work out for them. I liked her.”

“What about you, Cheryl? When you gonna find someone to spend your life wit’?”

“I don’t know. Evidently Mr. Right hasn’t made his presence known.”

Mr. Bojangles tugged on his leash and pulled my arm forward as a squirrel ferried up the bark of one of the large trees.

“Are you sure he hasn’t made his presence known?”

I stopped and turned toward her.

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