A Marriage Carol by Chris Fabry, Gary D. Chapman Read Free Book Online Page B

papers?”
     
    I didn’t answer. Instead, I watched Erik crumple his beer can and toss it in the trash, then reach for another in the minifridge under the makeshift table.
     
    “Have you met face-to-face?”
     
    “Just at our reunion. It was innocent. He’s just being nice to think of me and write.”
     
    “Something happened in your eyes when you saw him. When you read his message, a light went on.”
     
    I nodded. “All right, I’ll admit there’s a spark. Just remembering those early years. The youthful infatuation. Mental gymnastics about the past. Wondering how things might have wound up if …”
     
    “If you had chosen that life instead of this one,” Jay said. “And whether or not it’s too late to still choose?”
     
    “I guess the thought crossed my mind that we could have a life together. He’s coming off a bad relationship. He learned a lot from it,” I added, realizing I sounded defensive.
     
    “Like controlling his drinking.”
     
    “Yeah, well, I didn’t know about that. He must have stock in Coors.” The scene lingered and I tried to talk to mask my discomfort. Laughing at some unharnessed memory of Erik when we were young.
     
    “Marlee, you have a good chance at happiness. You have great kids. Your family loves you. Cares for you. The best hope for lifelong love is not with anyone but the one you said ‘I do’ to.”
     
    “My best chance died years ago, then. Jacob looks at us as another investment gone bad. He would probably stay together to save the legal hassle and to keep the kids under one roof, but he won’t even fight anymore. He’s at the
whatever
stage. Whatever happens now is fine with him. He’s emotionally checked out. He’s engrossed in his work. He’s not there anymore. And frankly, I’m glad.”
     
    Jay didn’t speak and thankfully the scene changed again, this time to a dark, snowy field. I couldn’t make out much of the scenery because it was snow covered.
     
    “Is that around here?” I said.
     
    “I can’t tell,” Jay said. “Wait a minute. That looks like someone’s shoe sticking out of the snow.”
     
    My breath caught and I choked out the words. “It’shis. It’s Jacob’s.”
     
    I scanned the scene and through the flurries noticed some trees, an incline, and a fence post. “I know this place. It’s right below where our car spun out.”
     
    Jay jumped up and rushed to the front hallway, throwing his coat on. I followed, but he told me to stay with the fire. Stay with the scene.
     
    With tears in my eyes I said, “I thought I tripped over a rock. It must have been him. He was trying to come here.”
     
    “I’ll find him,” Jay said. “You stay here.”
     
    “No, I have to go with you.”
     
    “Marlee …” He put a hand on my shoulder and I felt something warm coursing through my body. A connection with the past and present? “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
     
    Shaking, still holding the pot, I placed it back over the fire as Jay left. The water grew warm again and steam washed over me. I closed my eyes, wondering if Jacob could still be alive. He needed medical help, but with the phone out and no cell I couldn’t imagine what we could do.
     
    The scene was the pasture again and Jacob’s shoemoved under the covering of snow. A good sign.
“Get up,”
I whispered.
     
    Headlights shone on the road above, and then a terrible sound of rubber on ice, trying to grip, trying to stop the momentum of the downhill slide. The car careered into the thin trees above, headlights wobbling over the snow, then toppled over the hillside toward my husband.
     
    The steam sizzled and evaporated in front of me. I put the pot down and ran to the back door, looking over the landscape. I could see nothing through the storm, not even headlights.
     
    Frantic, I scooped snow from the back patio into the plastic bowl and ran back to the fire, pouring it quickly into the bowl and jamming it on top of the fire and holding it close