Sweet Forgiveness by Lori Nelson Spielman Read Free Book Online Page A

hokey, right?”
    She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s actually pretty brilliant. I can see why the idea has legs. Who doesn’t need to be forgiven?”
    â€œRight, Jade. Your biggest sin is probably the time you accidentally stole the sample cream at the Clinique counter.”
    I turn to her, smiling. But her face is clouded. “Hey, I’m kidding. I’m just saying, you’re about the most straightforward, honest person I know.”
    She bends over and grabs her knees. “Hannabelle, you have no idea.”
    I move over to the grass, letting a runner pass by. “What is it?”
    â€œFor over twenty-five years I’ve had this huge lie trailing me like a block of stinky cheese. Ever since my dad’s diagnosis it’s been eating at me.”
    She straightens and stares off into the distance, as if she’s trying to escape from the memory. What is it with these stones? Instead of granting peace, they’re causing grief.
    â€œIt was my sixteenth birthday. My parents threw me a party. I think Daddy was more excited than any of us. He wanted it to be perfect. He decided to spiff up the basement rec room before the party. Paint, new furniture, the works. When I told him I wanted white carpet, he didn’t bat an eye.” She looks over at me and smiles. “Can you imagine? White carpet in a basement?
    â€œAbout fifteen girls spent the night. Oh, and were we boy-crazy! So when a half dozen guys came knocking at the downstairs patio door bearing cherry vodka and some god-awful red wine, of course we let them in.
    â€œI was terrified. I’d be grounded for life if my parents happened to come back downstairs, and skinned alive if they ever found out we were drinking. But they’d already checked in for the night. They were upstairs watching
48 Hours
. They trusted me.
    â€œBy midnight, my friend Erica Williams was as buzzed as a bee. She got sick. All over. So long, white carpet.”
    â€œOh no,” I say. “What did you do?”
    â€œI tried my best to scrub it out, but the stain wouldn’t budge. The next morning, Daddy came downstairs and saw it. I told him the truth: Erica had gotten sick. ‘Was she drinking?’ he asked. I looked him straight in the eyes. ‘No, Daddy.’”
    Her voice quakes, and I sling an arm around her shoulder. “Jade, that’s nothing. Forget about it. You were just a kid.”
    â€œFor years, he’s come back to that tale, Hannah. Even on my thirtieth birthday he asked, ‘Jade, was Erica drinking the night of your sixteenth birthday party?’ And as always, I answered, ‘No, Daddy.’”
    â€œMaybe it’s time to tell him, then. Give him a Forgiveness Stone. Because I’m pretty sure the lie is hurting you far more than the truth will hurt him.”
    She shakes her head. “It’s too late. The cancer’s spread to his bones now. The truth would kill him.”

    Jade and I are finishing our last lap when Dorothy calls, sounding more chipper than she has in months. “Could you drop by this afternoon, dear?”
    It’s unusual for Dorothy to request a visit. More often than not she tells me it’s silly for me to come by so often.
    â€œI’m happy to,” I say. “Everything okay?”
    â€œSplendid. And bring a half dozen of those little pouches, could you, please? I think they sell them at Michaels.”
    Oh, great. The Forgiveness Stones again. “Dorothy, you didn’t accept my stone. You’re off the hook. You don’t have to continue that silly Circle of Forgiveness.”
    â€œA half dozen,” she insists, “for starters.”
    I should have known. Dorothy loves to partake in chain letters and e-mail pass-alongs. She’s certainly not going to miss the chance to join a popular new fad like the Forgiveness Stones. She’s been tagged and, regardless of whether or not she felt justified in