Deadly Decision by Regina Smeltzer Read Free Book Online

rubbed at my misty eyes.
    “This was supposed to be your birthday present, but you need it now.”
    “I’ve never seen this before.”
    “I had it painted from an old picture. Did you notice the child on the swing? That’s you.”
    Even though the figure was tiny, I recognized the resemblance, and marveled at the skill it took to recreate a memory.
    Betsy looked me straight in the face. “Ted painted this.”
    I stared at her, my surprise palpable. The painting not only depicted a scene, it shared an emotion. Few paintings I had seen did this. I looked back at Betsy. “Then why doesn’t he paint like this all the time?”
    “He does, Bill.”
    “No he doesn’t. I’ve seen his paintings. They aren’t anything like this. No one’s going to buy the junk I just saw in Darlington.”
    “Trina told me he already has a contract for those pieces.”
    I look again at the picture in my hands. No doubt, it was a masterpiece, at least to me.
    “Ted feels God directing his art in another direction, Bill.”
    “I don’t get it.” There seemed to be a lot of God’s direction going on that I didn’t understand.
    “Churches are changing from what they were in our childhood.” Betsy’s eyes softened. “Our society has become more relaxed. Ted feels that if our churches don’t follow, we won’t be able to attract our young people, and he believes God is directing him to create art for our modern churches.”
    Betsy’s thoughts about God made Him sound like He actually intervened in small things in our lives. I was living proof that she was wrong. Anger bubbled in my belly. I didn’t want to argue with my sister. “God does not care what pictures we put on our church walls, or if we don’t put up any at all. God has better things to do with His time, like keep the world from blowing up. Things like that.”
    “Sounds like an impersonal god to me.”
    “When has God helped me?” The words jerked at my heart as soon as I said them. I knew God cared, but somehow my ability to see and feel it went missing a long time ago.
    Betsy re-wrapped the picture. “One of these days, Bill, you are going to confront God. And then you will have to decide what you believe.”
    I glared at her. “I know what I believe. I’ve gone to church almost every Sunday of my life.”
    “Knowing and believing are two different things.” Her eyes looked deeply into mine.
    We moved on to safer subjects, but the comfortable atmosphere had faded, replaced by a tension I didn’t know how to change.
     
    
     
    Later, I went to the couch where I had tossed my jacket. “Bets, where’s my coat?”
    “I hung it in the hall closet,” she yelled from the kitchen.
    “Why’d you hang it—”
    My heart shoved its way into my throat. Hanging on Betsy’s wall was a grouping of family photos, both present and past generations. One picture…I must have walked by it a hundred times and never really noticed it…chilled the blood in my veins.
    “Betsy!” Her name escaped my throat like a strangled moan.
    She rushed into the hall, a dishtowel clutched in her hands.
    “Who’s in this picture?” I asked.
    “That’s all you want? I thought you were dying or something.” Color tinted her ashen face as she leaned against the wall.
    “Betsy!”
    “You remember; Grandpa gave it to you years ago when he moved into the apartment. You didn’t want it, so you said I could have it.”
    “OK, OK. But who is it?”
    “I don’t know.” She pushed herself off the wall, and twisted the towel into a knot.
    “You have to know. You have the picture hanging on your wall!”
    “Don’t yell at me.”
    I clenched my teeth, knowing if I got into a fight with Betsy, I would lose. Age does bring wisdom of a sort, and she would always be older. Besides, I was clutching my most valuable possession under my arm, a gift from her. I owed her something.
    Her finger stroked the frame as her face softened. “Grandpa said it was one of the oldest family