Avoiding Esther by Jenifer Carll-Tong

Author:Jenifer Carll-Tong [Carll-Tong, Jenifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Philo Se

21

Red Roses

Will would forgive him. Eventually. It might hurt at first, but he would forgive him. Wouldn't he? He had to forgive him. John knocked on the door before he had any more time to consider the ramifications of what he was about to do.

"John," Mrs. Albright said, eyebrows raised. "This is a surprise. Come in." She opened the door wide, motioning for John to enter. "My husband isn't home. He is visiting with one of the church's shut-ins – a Mr. Randall. He lives near your newspaper offices. Do you know him?"

"No, ma'am," John answered, removing his hat and twisting it in his hands. "But I'm not here to see Reverend Albright. Is your daughter home?"

Her eyebrows raised once more, but settled quickly back into place. "She is. Why don't you wait in the parlor while I get her?"

John stood in the middle of the small gathering room, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet and continued to twist his hat. He struggled with what he was about to do. It's one thing to steal your best friend's girl, but quite another thing to do it while that friend is off fighting Germans in France. But this was no ordinary woman. John had never felt like this about anyone. And, besides, she clearly did not feel for Will what he felt for her.

"Please forgive me, Will," he breathed, looking around the room for anything to occupy his mind until Mrs. Albright finally returned with Phoebe.

He saw them the minute he turned around. Roses. Red roses. They stood out amongst the pale neutrals of the faded furniture and leather-bound books the way stained glass windows stand out against the cold, stone walls of cathedrals. They stood out the way Phoebe did everywhere she went. A rose among the thorns of his life.

He crossed the room to get away from them, but the overpowering scent of the blooms followed him no matter where he stood. He fought the memories, but much like the unavoidable aroma that filled the room, he could not fight the images from long ago.

The older he grew, the weaker most memories became, especially where his mother was concerned. But some memories, odd, ridiculous memories, glowed in his subconscious like a candle in a dark house. Such a light may not illuminate an entire room, but can give those items within its reach an unearthly glow. John didn't know why some memories slipped through his grasp like dissipating fog, while others stuck with him as if he were standing right in the middle of them. Memories like the red roses.

She had loved roses so much, his mother. He couldn't remember a time that the drawing room was void of the red flower. Well, that is, until she left. The first morning, John had noticed the roses on the piano were wilting. His mother must still be abed. Was she ill? She always rose early and spent time in her garden, praying and singing before her morning tray was brought to her room.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.