Still Life in Shadows by Alice J. Wisler Read Free Book Online Page B

4:37.”
     
    “My watch says 4:36.” Ormond lifted his hand to glance at his Rolex.
     
    Gideon wasn’t in the mood. “What is he doing heading home this early?” The shop didn’t officially close until 5:00.
     
    No one spoke.
     
    Gideon looked at Luke. “Do you know why he went home before closing time?”
     
    “He said he was tired.”
     
    “Tired? Tired? Who said he could leave?”
     
    Luke looked at Ormond, who looked back at Luke.
     
    Gideon closed his eyes and saw a film of red. When his eyes opened, Kiki had joined them.
     
    “He’s not a hard worker,” she said.
     
    Ormond grinned, and Luke nodded.
     
    “Does anyone want to go over to his apartment and tell him to get back here?” When no one offered, Gideon grabbed his jacket from the wall. He would give Amos a piece of his mind.
No.
He steadied his breathing. He’d wait. He’d set a good example for the others asco-owner. He’d wait till the shop closed. Then he’d meet with Amos and talk the laziness out of that boy. He’d tell this farm boy that one didn’t walk out early from a job unless given permission. How did he expect to learn anything if he couldn’t even work a full day?
     

8
     
    G ideon’s walk to work the next morning was heavily seasoned with questions. His first was, why? Why was he interested in someone that he couldn’t have a relationship with? Why did he feel such a longing to get to know Mari when she’d never be the woman he could marry and grow old with? She was divorced. Growing up, his parents spoke of those who got divorced as evil, removed from God, denied of His blessings. A marriage union was supposed to last forever. Amen. If Mari was Kiki’s mother, then she must be either unwed—another unacceptable situation—or divorced. Either way, how could he ever continue being hopeful about a possible future with her? By the time he got to the auto shop, he felt weary, like he needed a nap.
     
    Seeing Ormond at his usual perch with the newspaper, Gideon approached him, standing in front of his desk, his hands in his pockets.
     
    “Uh … Um …” His voice sounded like a faulty muffler, in bad need of replacement. “What do you think about people who get divorced?”
     
    Ormond read a few more lines from the sports section and then laid the paper down by his coffee mug. “What do I think?”
     
    “Yeah.”
     
    “About divorce?”
     
    Gideon clarified. “About what the Bible says and all that.”
     
    “Are you asking me some biblical interpretation about divorce?”
     
    “I think so.”
     
    “At this early hour? I’m only on my first cup.”
     
    “Yes.” Why couldn’t Ormond just answer the question? He attended Valley Baptist each Sunday; he should know these things.
     
    Ormond smoothed his mustache with his thumb. Pensively, he studied his fingernails as though seeing the dirt in them for the first time. “My sister’s husband beat her with a frying pan.”
     
    Gideon gulped. He’d forgotten that horrific incident that happened just a year after he’d arrived in Twin Branches.
     
    “And yes, filing for divorce and running as far as you can away from a monster like that is the only thing to do.” Through clenched jaw, he added, “And pray he gets time locked up.”
     
    Gideon let out a low sigh. Ormond was an easygoing man, calm and humorous, except for when, as he called it,
fire rumbled under his skin.
Then his soft demeanor turned cold, eerie. Gideon was sorry he’d made Ormond remember the terrifying event of years ago. He knew Ormond’s sister had been in the hospital with broken bones and ribs for a week after that night. Gideon had only been sixteen, but he’d visited her in the hospital with a bouquet of daisies. Daisies and a handmade card were all he could afford.
     
    Ormond took a swallow of coffee. “Some men are monsters. They’ve lost any human resemblance; let themselves be stripped of the light and love bestowed on them by their