Kristen's Choice by Rushford Patricia H

Author:Rushford, Patricia H. [Rushford, Patricia H.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-03-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Randy was dead. Killed in a car accident. Joel’s words had been slow to register in Kristen’s mind. Kids their age didn’t die, did they? How could God let that happen? Numbed with shock, Kristen couldn’t cry. She stared unseeing into the river beyond them.

Joel’s head still rested against the steering wheel. Anguished sobs shook his body. Instinctively she touched his arm and drew him back to face her. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him. She had no words of encouragement to offer, only a shoulder to cry on. He took it.

Kristen didn’t know how long they held each other. The late October sun changed shifts with the moon, leaving a sky full of color as its parting gift. Not to be outdone, the moon put on its brightest face and bathed their world in cool, translucent light.

She shivered. “It’s getting cold.” Withdrawing from the circle of Joel’s arms Kristen reached for her jacket on the seat beside her.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I should have noticed.” Joel held the jacket for her as she eased her arms into it.

The cold night air slipped through the thin summer jacket as if it wasn’t even there. “Brrrr. I think we’d better get home. It’s cold out tonight.”

Joel didn’t answer. Instead he reached into the back seat and brought out a red and white plaid blanket. “This will keep us warm.” He reached back again and brought up a bottle. “Whiskey,” he said, supplying the answer to Kristen’s unasked question. “I swiped it out of the liquor cabinet a while back. I keep it for emergencies.”

Joel unscrewed the cap and handed the near empty container to Kristen. “No thanks,” she said. “I don’t think you should have any more either. You have to drive home tonight.”

Joel didn’t seem to hear her. “It’s great for helping you forget—at least that’s what dad says. But then how come I’m still thinking about Randy? And how come it hurts so much? Maybe just a little more.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and tipped it up until the amber liquid touched in his mouth. She watched his Adam’s apple move up and down as he drank.

“Joel, please don’t drink that stuff.” She’d tasted whiskey once and that was enough. How could anybody gulp it down like that?

The last of the whiskey disappeared down his throat. “There.” He grinned. “You missed your chance. But I won’t drink anymore.” He waved the bottle in front of her and laughed. “It’s empty.”

“We should get home,” Kristen said, expecting him to pass out any minute. “I’d better drive.”

She started to push herself toward the passenger door when she felt Joel’s restraining hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want to go home yet. Stay a little longer.” It was more a command than a request. He pulled her back against him and adjusted the blanket around them.

Except for the fact that a crooked grin had replaced Joel’s sadness, the alcohol didn’t seem to affect him at all. Strange,

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