Fall From Grace by Christine Zolendz

Author:Christine Zolendz [Zolendz, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781480141285
Publisher: DarkRoadDesigns
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Shane was still sprawled out over the couch when I woke up the next morning at 10 o’clock. It was still so early that it would be really mean of me to kick him out, but late enough that I was stuck alone with him since Conner and Lea were at work.

I peeked out the front door to see how much snow fell. The sidewalk was already shoveled, the streets were plowed and a light feathery snow was gently falling. I grabbed the mail and decided instead of running that I’d just make coffee and curl up and play my guitar. Then I would tackle my laundry.

I threw the mail on the kitchen table, barely noticing the one piece of mail addressed to me. Maybe, the size of the envelope was what made me look twice at it. It wasn’t normal size; a bit larger and thicker than the rest. It might have been the color, a creamy peach that struck a chord with me. Whichever, I picked it up and walked into my room. I stuck my head in to check on Shane; he was still out cold.

Sitting down on my bed, I glanced quickly at the return address on the letter. It was from the hospice. I ripped open the envelope and unfolded a handwritten letter. Another smaller envelop slid out and fell to the floor. Bending down, I picked up the fallen envelope and read the name on the front; Gracie. It was in Jacob’s handwriting.

My knees buckled and I sat heavily on the floor, leaning against my bed. I read the unfolded letter first. I think that’s what I was meant for me to do, since the other letter was still sealed. It was from one of Jake’s doctors, Doctor Slaterman, whom Jacob seemed to grow very fond of while staying at the hospice.

Dear Grace,

I never got to give my condolences to you before you left. First and foremost, I wanted to write that we held a small memorial for your brother, recalling how full of love and life he was, and how amazing he was with all the other patients. What started out as a small gathering in the common room turned into a significant event. I know that Jacob did not want a funeral or wake for his passing, but I felt we needed to celebrate Jacob, the patient we had for the longest period, who fought the hardest against his disease.

Before Jacob passed, he spoke privately with me, asking me to give you the letter from him that I have enclosed.

I hope all is well with you, Grace. The patients and staff here miss your nightly musical tributes for your brother. Our halls have never been more silent.

Best Regards,

Martin Slaterman, MD.

Cradling Jacob’s letter in my arms I promised myself that I would record a few pieces of music on a CD for the patients there. Looking down again at Jake’s handwriting, I traced the letters with my fingers.

As I opened it, tears spilled from my eyes.

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