Gladioli in August by Clare Revell Read Free Book Online Page B

your way of prioritizing is actually pretty good and saves both time and fuel.”
    “Is that a roundabout way of saying I’m right and you’re wrong?”
    He pushed his glasses up. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.”
    Her nose scrunched in that delicious way as she smirked. “Of course not.” She reached into the bag and pulled out one of the apples. “So, did you want to talk?”
    He shifted on his seat, looking down at the controls. “About what?”
    “Last night and what happened in the chapel.”
    A voice echoed in his head as he banked the plane, aiming for a clear, long stretch of roadway in the middle of nowhere. The last place he wanted to be right now was in the air. He brought the plane down too hard and too fast, throwing both himself and Jael against the restraints as the plane finally halted. The plane continued to rock—either due to his landing or a tremor—he wasn’t sure which.
    Jael grunted with the impact and slowly rubbed her chest.
    “Sorry. Are you OK?”
    “Yeah. What about you?”
    He shrugged. OK was a relative term that hadn’t applied to him in years.
    She unfastened the straps and turned in her seat, folding one leg underneath her. “Talk to me.”
    “I wouldn’t know where to start,” he whispered.
    “Anywhere. The beginning is a pretty good place. Or last night, or wherever you were just before you almost killed us.”
    “I didn’t almost kill us,” he snapped. “It was a rough landing that’s all.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And as to where I was? Just some place my father…”
    He turned to the window looking out at the trees. “I wasn’t like the other kids. I was always in trouble at school and at home. Everything I did was wrong or not good enough.”
    “We all have days like that,” Jael said. “None of us are perfect. At least, not this side of heaven.” Her voice was soft and gentle, but not condescending.
    Yet. That would come when she knew how bad he really was.
    Micah didn’t look at her. “Did you get beaten because you didn’t wash up properly when you were six?” he asked. “Or because you played one wrong note in one of Rachmaninoff’s concertos? Or because your piano practicing woke up your father? I don’t think there was a day that passed without doors slamming or yelling. Every day I was punished for something or other, even when I did nothing wrong.” He closed his eyes, silence filling the plane. “Love is…”
    “Not that,” she said gently.
    “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” he muttered. “Children obey your parents in everything.”
    “Not by beating them into submission.” Her hand touched his arm gently. “Look at me.”
    Slowly he turned in his seat to face her. His eyes burned and his whole body shook as the all-too-familiar rage consumed him.
    “Micah, I can’t even begin to fathom what that was like, but I do know one thing.” She took his hand, her fingers cool against his skin. “You survived.”
    “I shouldn’t have,” he whispered.
    “Why not?”
    “He told me often enough I shouldn’t even have been born. And I still see his face now. In my dreams, in the darkness, coming for me.”
    “Because you haven’t forgiven him.”
    Micah ripped his hand from hers. “What?” he exploded. “Why should I? How can I? After what he did?”
    “Because it’s the right thing to do,” she said. “We have to forgive as God forgives us. Because otherwise you can’t move on. He still has this power over you because you can’t forgive and let go. Yes, your father hurt you and he was wrong to do so. Is he still alive?”
    He nodded.
    “Is he a Christian?”
    Micah snorted.
    “Then pray for his salvation. Jesus said we should pray for our enemies, didn’t He? We’re all sinners, Micah. Just because we perceive some sins as greater than others, doesn’t mean all sins aren’t equal in God’s eyes. God loves you.”
    Micah stiffened in his seat as if struck by a bolt of lightning.
    She reached into the