Anatoly's Retribution by Latrivia Welch

Author:Latrivia Welch [Welch, Latrivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RiverHouse Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-02-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

A Gift for You…

Nine Years Ago, Christmas Eve

Mother Russia Restaurant

Memphis, TN

I t was just after dusk, and light feathery snow fell across the city of Memphis for the second year straight in over three decades. A warm, holiday cheer was in the air as people moved up and down Main Street past small eateries and clothing stores, carrying colorful bags of gifts for loved ones, cuddled together and smiling.

Cold, bone-chilling winds ripped westward down the trolley line, picking up discarded paper and pushing it down the cobblestone thoroughfare. Grover, the street corner jazz man, played an upbeat tune on his saxophone only a few feet away from Mother Russia restaurant as guests hiked up the stairs and disappeared behind its smoky-windows and large black doors.

Among tonight’s guests at the restaurant was Mr. Franklin Gentry. He was an elderly Vietnam veteran with a remarkably full head of beautiful silver hair. He sat at the head of the small dinner party, watching his grown children, their spouses and his adorable, little grandchildren enjoy another holiday together with an overwhelming sense of pride.

God had blessed him with a long life and a wonderful family, minus a black sheep here and there. For the most part, his legacy was intact, and not because he deserved it more than any other man, but because he was lucky.

Franklin wished his dear wife, Rose, had been here to celebrate with them, but God had called her home. His precious better half had been gone now for nearly five years, but every day he woke up expecting to still see her resting beside him.

On a warm spring afternoon, he had found her in their backyard sitting in the gazebo, eyes averted to the wooden roof, wrinkled little hands folded in her lap.

Her Bible had fallen out of her grasp and was face down on the concrete by her sandaled feet. Her red and silver hair danced in the breeze, wisps of it danced over her cheek.

She looked at peace with a faint smile on her thin lips. There had been no warning signs, no hospitalization. She had gone the way she said she always wanted to go – in a blink of an eye. But her plans had not included him, and he was still here - left behind, forced to move forward each day without her.

Father Time had been kind by not yet taking Franklin’s life, unlike many of his friends and all his other siblings, but in exchange for his prolonged journey, he had been forced to evolve from the brawny, independent man of his youth to a frail, senior citizen dependent on everyone else.

No more bulging muscles or Herculean strength. No more fixing cars on his days off or cutting the yard with his shirt off in the hot summer sun. His skin had eroded, turning from perfect, white porcelain to deep wrinkles and worn leather sprinkled with liver spots. Arthritis had made it impossible to hold a cup, let alone a tool. He had lost the ability to walk, take care of himself, or be his own man.

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