Page 2 of Gideon's Gratitude

I figured the newcomer was probably going to throw lavish parties or some other nonsense. With no respect for the quiet and solitude most people sought when they lived on the mountain.

My grandparents bought the home after their retirement and lived here happily until my grandmother passed two years ago.

After much cajoling, I convinced Grandad to go into an assisted-living facility.

The old coot had been happy as a clam after that, and even had a new lady friend. It would’ve tickled my grandma.

The timing had been perfect, as I needed a place. In fact, that need probably pushed Grandad into leaving sooner than he might’ve wanted.

Then, just three months ago, Granddad died in his sleep from a massive heart attack.

I’d been gutted. Again.

That’s in the past.

I had a safe place to live where I could lick my wounds, recover from my problems, and plot a new life.

Yeah, right.

Another streak of lightning, this one illuminating the room brightly, even though the window was small. The crack of thunder was less than a heartbeat later and then, in the blink of an eye, the lights flicked off and the shower stopped since there was no power for the pump.

Damn.

Wait for it…

Three, two…

Everything turned back on as the generator kicked in.

Not wanting to put any more demand on the thing than necessary, I washed my hair in less than a minute and hopped out. Not warmed through. I could jack up the heat, but what was the point? More demand on my trusty generator. I’d put on comfy clothes, and then I’d hunker down with Lucky in front of the gas fireplace, which didn’t require power to operate. Probably the only amenity my grandparents had added to bring the place into the twenty-first century. Otherwise, this was very much a house of the 1960s. If I’d inherited the place before the accident, I’d have had grand plans to renovate and modernize. I towel dried my hair.

In the past. Nothing to be done about it now.

These days, I was doing well if I made it out of bed. Of course, having Lucky helped.

Not known for his patience, he’d jump on the bed to express his displeasure at being ignored.

And I should take a harder stance, but what was the point? A little misbehavior was to be accommodated.

Just like I’d done with my kids.

The pain shot through my chest and seized my heart. Why had I gone there? I’d had a run of several days without thinking about them. Which was bad, to be sure, but better than thinking about them and wallowing in self-pity.

I hotfooted back into the bedroom and systematically put on dry clothes. That would keep me warm. On the outside, at least. Nothing would ever warm my insides.

Sharp, clipped barking pulled me from my introspection. I zipped up my jeans as I padded barefoot out of the bedroom and to the top of the stairs.

“Knock it off, Lucky, it’s just the wind.”

Ignoring my command, the dog let off another round of barking.

I need socks.

And a drink.

One I’d get—the other was out of the question. I sat on the bed and pulled on my socks while the dog let out another series of barks.Thank God I no longer live in the city.Our townhouse had neighbors on both sides.

Another round of barking erupted as I clomped down the stairs.

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