Bleeding Green by Anne James Read Free Book Online Page B

brother, Andrew, asked if I was having sex with you.”
    The ensuing silence stretched for several heartbeats.
    “Oh, my. As hard as that is to believe, does it really surprise you?” Brodie struggled to regain some composure. “I’m so sorry, Laurel.”
    “Remember the whole debacle about Andrew asking me to talk to my cousin, Albert, about being restored to the Lord’s Table?”
    “Of course. And you acquiesced as you thought it would make life easier for your brother’s family when it came to the question of eating with you. Correct?”
    Laurel sighed blowing out a side of her cheek. “Yup. I’ll never be a part of that group again, yet, this being ‘placed under discipline’ to speak The Meeting’s lingo, will never end. They don’t know how to end it, unless I asked to be restored.”
    Brodie cleared her throat. “To clarify, in my language, that means taking communion?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you answer?”
    “No. Not completely.”
    “Not to change the subject, but we can talk about this better when you get back. Will you be home in time for dinner? ”
    “Should be arriving close to 6:30 p.m. How ‘bout we schedule some time soon to talk about simplifying our lives by combining two households?”
    “I’ll have your porch light on. That particular subject will give me great delight. Our lives are too complicated. Let’s do simplify!”

Chapter 7
     
     
    S weet and clear the notes of the Bachman’s sparrow pierced the gathering dusk as Laurel turned into the sandy road leading to her state park residence. Beautyberry branches bowing to the earth laden with clusters of purple berries were being nibbled on by a deer before the creature noticed the headlights. Sailing over wire grass and downed pine branches, the deer disappeared from view to melt into the night of the central Florida peninsula.
    Braking to a halt as the electric gate shut behind her, Laurel bowed her head in thankfulness for the many miles covered in safety during the last several hours. Tension knotted her shoulders. There was a lot to be said for power steering!
    Illuminating the nightfall, a stream of welcoming lamplight from the living room window beckoned her forward.
    Brodie was waiting.
    Shifting into first gear, the Landcruiser climbed the gradual sandy slope that was an excuse for a road. As the soft, semitropical air filled the interior of the truck, Laurel struggled with memories that flooded through her entire being. The ghost of her mother seemed to shimmer and melt into the surroundings. Each tree, each bump in the road, the song of the sparrow brought tears sliding down her cheeks.
    The care of her mother over the last two years were memories to place neatly into an antique trunk in her mind. Memories that she could take out and enjoy later when the grief lessened. For now, it was enough to begin letting go of the living presence of her mother. Just as she made that a concrete thought, the image of her mother’s arthritic hands playing the piano squeezed her heart in pain. At ninety-three, she had still played the piano by ear, even as her dementia caused her to repeat the same song several times. Laurel knew she would never regret taking on her mother’s care. As vivid as if it were yesterday was the memory of sitting in the parking lot of Publix. Her mail came to the park office and was sitting on the seat beside her. There was a letter from her brother, Andrew. She had picked it up and read it. Deciphering his left-handed sprawling script was a challenge. She noted that the handwritten letter was addressed to her and her two sisters. An insert of a single page with just her name at the top was a heartfelt plea from her brother asking her to take on the care of their mother. He was at his wits end trying to find someone to live in the house with her. The dementia was escalating.
    Laurel felt as if someone had swung a baseball bat at her middle and knocked all the air out of her lungs. She had just moved to central