Page 13 of The Promise Of Rain
My mouth twisted at my lie as I grabbed my sunglasses to fight off the glare of sunlight bouncing off the snow, signaled my way out of the lot, and headed down the main road.
As the world whipped past my window, I began to squirm.
Because that lightness that fairly floated me out of bed this morning?It left me feeling unmoored.
Ungrounded.
Who was I if I wasn’t the villain?
What was I going to do next?
How would I live?
Would anything change?
My mind spun.I didn’t know how to live and breathe and move in a reality where I was free of false rumours, suspicion, and lies.
Thank God I’d planned to visit Ansel and the ladies at St.Michael’s; the assisted living facility Ansel irreverently referred to as the last stop between earth and beyond.
God willing, he’d have quite the layover because I was far from ready to let him go.
In my life, I’d encountered all kinds of men, including those who were truly evil.We hear about these men and their dirty deeds all the time.
Despite my own experiences, most men were simply passive.These men were everywhere.Not evil, but far from good, they were mostly unwilling to step outside of their comfort zones to help anyone else.
Then there were men like Ansel Blum.
I parked the little car he gifted to me and picked my way across the ice-pocked parking lot to the wide ramp leading up to double front doors.
Bookended by tall pots spilling winter greenery and painted a bright, cheery, Kelly green, those doors reflected the nurturing spirit housed within.
Here at St.Michael’s, away from Moose Lake and tucked away in an almost forgotten corner in Peppergrove, I could breathe.
I swung them open and stomped on the front mat until the bits of snow clinging to my boots fell off.The solid thud of my heels announced my arrival to Abby, the middle-aged nurse sitting at the front desk.
She greeted me with a smile, pointed to the phone in her hand, and silently waved me through.
Checking the time, I headed straight for the dining room.
One of the few men living at the home, Ansel sat surrounded by what he affectionately referred to as ‘the bevy of beauties,’ one of whom happened to be Deacon’s grandmother, Darlene.
Ansel had outlived his brothers, his friends, and every single one of his military brothers, some by decades.
But he never failed to offer a smile or a kind word which gained him a seat amongst the ladies.
He was also a terrible flirt.
“Well,” he exclaimed when he saw me.“If it isn’t the prettiest flower in the bouquet just for me.”His shrewd eyes narrowed on my face as I got closer and his tone sharpened.“Is everything okay?”
I rolled my eyes and set the box of brownies on the table.Flipping back the lid, I watched his expression change to one of delight.
My heart lifted, and I laughed.“No need to flatter me, Ansel, I already made your brownies.”
“That’s my girl,” he teased as I bent to kiss his weathered cheek.
I beat back the tears that threatened to spill, grabbed a free chair, and inserted myself in beside him.
After grabbing the biggest brownie for Ansel, I slid the box into the middle of the table, distracting the ladies long enough to give Ansel a brief update.
