Every day from the Lord is a new beginning.
Dre considered. Not for the sexually gratifying possibilities, but because of the duck. That happy yellow duck with those gentle, cleansing hands. The duck didn’t have to do anything other than be, and the hands did everything else, washing away the blackness that there was no hope of dealing with alone.
He’s under forty. Women want his attention everywhere he goes. He has a lot going for him. And now, he’s found a place he loves, after years of wandering and wondering whether his life was adding anything to the world.
Nothing made her angrier than insinuations that she had feelings for him. Since it was such a laughable idea. But instead of the blazing anger he had braced for, she seemed to scrutinize him.
Reluctantly, Ben tore his eyes from the doorway, then heaved himself off the ground and went to Lanie. Instantly, she was surrounded by the cloud of his stink. He reeked of alcohol and body odour. She wondered if the babies stunk now, too.
With each step toward the bunkhouse, she ached to go back, and stay with him for ever in the world of their dance. She felt unsure of her next move on this treacherous terrain that she’d been walking for so long.
A blind, all-consuming, homicidal rage cast the bleakest of black shadows in his soul.
He was there for her after she went home. For a while, her old friends from church, including Lilah, were, “So sorry,” and wondered, “Why didn’t you just call me?”
Part of him wants to turn away, to cover himself. But for once, he feels no shame around her.
He sighed, hating the way his mood tried to plummet. But he wouldn’t let it.
The familiar sense of anger, confoundment, and betrayal rose up in him again, but he forced himself to focus on his goal.
If only she could go up to that idealist, so much like her and yet so different, and scream in her face:
At first, he felt nothing. It was peculiar. Usually, he felt so many things that he couldn’t number or contain them.
Not about to give up an opportunity to show off his excellent dance moves, he tugged on Lilah until she came with him.
Ben barely touched her anymore, looking at her like she was made of exquisite glass, with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The few times they’d had sex since he found out about the pregnancy, she was certain he was holding back tears.
For weeks, she’d been tamping down her panic, telling herself that she wasn’t going to let anything ruin this for her. This was the one. This baby was the one she had prayed for when she was a child. And she wasn’t going to take a moment for granted.
It was quiet now. Holding her breath, she peered around the corner, and despite her best efforts and preparation for the worst, she was so wired and strung out from all that had happened yesterday that she couldn’t help but scream when she saw the hulking mass of man on her couch. Without thinking any further, she fired.
It was the one question she hadn’t dared to ask. Whether he had stayed with her because he felt he owed her some sort of debt of gratitude. She thought she couldn’t bare the answer to that one, even if her motives had originally stemmed from that guilt.
And before Ben knew it, he had all the cables set up, all of the inputs patched into the soundboard, and was equalizing the audio while the band did a soundcheck.
She looked up, and he saw the glistening sheen in her dark eyes. “You saved me.” She hugged him, reached around to stroke his rough, naked back.
He tried to come toward her, and she stepped back, watching him carefully to make sure he didn’t try to pounce. Though she had gotten better under his tutelage, she couldn’t match his litheness and speed in a dress.
He couldn’t quite see the colour in Fletcher’s eyes, but he could see the path they took from his hands and then back up to his face. Quite without meaning to, he touched the side of Fletcher’s jaw, intrigued by the stubble there. And then, also without meaning to, he leaned forward and brushed his lips there, until he found the spot he was looking for.
She could feel her resistance crumbling, her will bending toward his, her heart absorbing his words. She fought harder, not knowing why she didn’t just leave. Walk away. Then there would be nothing to argue about.
“It’s about fun. Safety. Becoming someone else, for a little bit, using the darkness and pain to bring someone else pleasure. It’s like, the ultimate middle finger to everything I grew up with. Letting out the darkness without being seen as a monster…well, except that one time.”
Focusing on the irritated part of her brain helps to drown out the part that can’t keep from smiling at the sight of a man happily playing with a little girl. She wishes she could send a picture of it to hell for her own father. The only problem will be finding out which circle to find him in.
But that familiar old feeling was so strong. Like she was running on a treadmill and giving it everything she had, and still going nowhere. Figuratively, anyone. Beyond the fact that she had come home and since then had literally gone nowhere. It didn’t seem to matter how many hospitals she built, how many orphanages, how many schools. They were drops in a bottomless bucket.
From a mental distance, she felt herself actively rejecting any implications surrounding Ben’s cardiac arrest. The look in Wallstead’s eyes could only precede the suggestion of one course of action. Logic dictated that the fatal inevitable was going to win here.
he rubbed his chin, and thought of Tynan, one of his rowdy kindergarteners, and Kwasi, the sweet, brilliant boy in the hospital who’d wanted Ben to adopt him. He could picture the orphanage on the compound – all the beautiful kids who needed a home. Seeing them, he’d been so close to giving up on his dreams.
She couldn’t hold it in anymore. A laugh escaped. At his startled expression, another one flew from her mouth. And then she was bent over double, holding her stomach and chortling so hard she could barely breathe. In only one second, he was joining her, the deep melody the most beautiful music she’d ever heard.
He still doesn’t seem to understand that he’s playing with fire, though, and the mischievous glint remains in his eyes. “Have you ever killed anyone?” he asks conspiratorially.
Ever the gentleman, Jake followed her lead, closely watching her and adjusting his manner accordingly. They ate their fill of snacks, watching each other across the table. It had been so long since she’d had company.
Unfinished 