The Greatest Gift by Michael John Sullivan Read Free Book Online Page A

some privacy. We need two more minutes.” Connie locked the door. “Hurry, Susan. Cowboy is waiting.”
    “I’m hurrying. Jeez.” She emerged from the stall. Her blouse hung over her jeans and her hair was ruffled. She looked into the mirror. “Hey Connie, do you think I’m fetching?” Susan laughed.
    “Knock it off.”
    “How is … is it … you … don’t seem … like me?”
    “You mean, like drunk?”
    “Yuppers.”
    “I took one of those anti-alcohol pills before we started drinking.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. We’ve got to get out of here. You’ve had way too much to drink. Who knows what you will say to this guy.”
    “Okie dokey,” said Susan as she unlocked the door.
    “No,” shouted Connie, slamming it shut, then locking it.
    “What’s wrong, ladies?” Hewitt asked.
    “We have to leave,” Susan said.
    “Yes, but not that way.” Connie went to the lone window and pulled it up. A cold breeze brushed through the room.
    “Whoa,” Connie said.
    “Are you expecting me to climb down a couple of floors?”
    “It’s only two,” Connie said. “I’ll go first and catch you if needed.”
    “Catch me?” asked Susan. “Are you expecting me to fall? Oh no, I’m not going through that window.”
    “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re as light as a feather compared to me. I’ll have no problem catching you. Take my coat and purse. Throw them down when I tell you.”
    Connie slid through the window, her feet dangling until she landed on the fire escape platform. “See, no problem,” she said, holding a thumb up. As she turned, her blouse caught on the metal railing. “Oh, great.” She twisted back toward the window and pulled at the knot. “Terrific. I just bought this blouse on sale at Macy’s. One day and I can’t even get it off when I need to.”
    A ripping sound caused Susan to giggle.
    “Oh, joy,” Connie said, looking down at her torn blouse.
    “Well, looks like the cowboy will want you.”
    “Shut up,” Connie said. “Wait until I’m on the ground before you start down.”
    She staggered down the fire escape to the last step, some ten feet off the ground. “Here goes.” She let go and her heels crumbled. Her backside met the cold ground. “Ouch.”
    “Are you all right?” Susan asked, peering out the window.
    “Yeah, I’m fine. Throw me the coats and purses.”
    “Wheeee. Here they come.”
    Connie set them aside against the wall. “Hurry.”
    “Cool your jets. I’m coming.” Her legs came first, and a shoe fell, tumbling to the sidewalk. “Did you get it?”
    “Forget the shoe,” Connie yelled.
    “I love that shoe.”
    “Stop yakking.”
    Susan made it to the last step and looked down. “Oh, I think I’m going to get sick. That’s a big jump.”
    “Stop being a baby. Let go.”
    “Can you catch me?”
    “I’ll catch you.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Connie grimaced. “I’m sure.”
    “Count to three.”
    “Oh, Lord. One, two.”
    Susan let go and fell on top of Connie.
    “Three.”
    “Well, that wasn’t so hard,” Susan said.
    “For you.”
    Susan laughed. “Are you hurt?”
    “Only my pride.”
    They both lay there for a few seconds and laughed. “I guess we’re friends now?” Susan asked.
    “Frenemies is more like it. Can you get off of me?”
    “I’ll help you with that.” A strong arm lifted them both off the ground.
    “Oh hi, Hewitt,” Susan said.
    “Where are you ladies going?”

Chapter 10

First-century Jerusalem

    Leah picked up Michael’s torn shirt with a picture of Bruce Springsteen on it. I never did ask Michael who this is. Maybe I can ask if I see him at the burial place.
    She held it up to her face, smelling the fabric. She wiped some tears away, ashamed and confused. What do I do about my fee l ings? Michael, you are here, without your daughter. You are alone and sad. I am not. I am happy with Aharon. This is not fair. My God, I plead to you for answers.
    She placed the shirt inside a small drawer. As she