Your Dream And Mine. Susan Kirby

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СКАЧАТЬ my part in their character years ago. Anyway, I’ve got to have a little something set by to take care of Mary.” Milt jutted out his knobby chin, rubbed his bald head and waggled a finger in the general direction of his water glass.

      Thomasina took it to the kitchen and filled it again. He spilled more than he drank, and dropped the glass, trying to return it to the table.

      “Jeb Liddle’s been farming the ground for almost a decade now. He’ll bid,” he said as Thomasina stooped to pick up the glass and the scattered ice cubes.

      “How many acres are there?”

      “Why? Have you got a nest egg?” he injected on a lighter vein.

      “Mostly in stocks and bonds,” she said.

      “Ya, right. So what are you doing here?”

      She shrugged off his disbelief and said with a grin, “Can’t a girl have a hobby?”

      “Cute, Tommy Rose.” he chortled. “Grab a piece of paper now, before you get too sassy for list making. There’s something I want you to do for me tomorrow.”

      “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

      “Your day off,” he said, nodding. “I know that. But while Mary’s fine with the plan, the details are making her weepy. I figure she’ll be better off nest shopping than getting all antsy over the appraiser prowling the place. I can’t very well ask Will to take her, now can I?”

      “I’d be happy to take her,” said Thomasina. Seeing that Mary wasn’t the only one having a tough time with the details, she leaned forward and patted his knee. “Are you sure you’re all right with this, Milt?”

      “I won’t say it’s easy. But it’s God who’s lifted us up and given us opportunities and God who says when it’s time to let go.”

      “He’s said this?”

      “Not in words. But the indications are there.” Milt took his time, pumping up on oxygen. “Yesterday, we both had doctor appointments. Mary had some cancer a few years ago, so she gets checked out now and then.”

      Seeing him harden his jaw, Thomasina tightened her grip on the forgotten book in her lap and braced herself for the worst. He drew the curtain back again and said without looking at her, “She came out of the office, and I found myself noticing she was thin. Thinner than she’s been in a while.”

      Thomasina’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Milt.”

      “No, it’s all right. The tests were routine. The lab called this morning, and the results were fine. But it was a wakeup call, Tommy Rose.” His bony throat wobbled. Tears gathered as he added, “I may be a stout-hearted old cuss, but I’ve got enough gray matter left to know it isn’t land or barns or a house full of trinkets making each day worth getting up for.”

      Thomasina made a big business of studying the inside cover of her paperback. Her eyes were too full to read while he fought for control.

      “The girls have families of their own now,” he said finally. “Will’s married to that lumberyard of his, and Mary agrees if we don’t make some decisions soon, the kids’ll end up doing it for us. It goes down the hatch a lot easier, makin’ them myself. Even hard ones. Like I said…” He trailed off a moment, then began anew, his voice growing stronger for the oxygen boost. “Seem to be spending a lot of time at doctors and pharmacies these days, so I reckon we’ll find a place in Bloomington where everything’s close by. An apartment, maybe where the upkeep is somebody else’s headache. Or a retirement village where they do the cooking and everything. Make it easier on Mary.”

      “Sounds nice,” murmured Thomasina.

      “A regular second honeymoon.” He checked the tear coursing down his seamed cheek, and beckoned with a gnarled finger. “I want you to look up some addresses and write them down for tomorrow, Tommy Rose.”

      Milt went on to give her a list of retirement facilities, plus a real estate agent he had contacted. Mary came in a while later and went over the whole thing again with Thomasina. Obviously they had given the decision a lot of thought. Thomasina listened without comment, except to say she’d help in whatever way she could. Mary thanked her for giving up her Saturday, sweet-talked Milt into taking a bath, then left herself to get ready for bed.

      Silence settled over the house. The loss of Saturday would set Thomasina’s moving behind a bit. But she wasn’t pressed for time. Thomasina sat by Milt’s bed, thoughts flitting from pillar to post in an attempt to hold at bay the biggest thought of all. She thought about Trace inadvertently touching her shoulder, and Winny asking her if she was moving in with Trace. Out of the mouths of babes. Was her decision to move impulsive? Had she been in such a red-hot hurry, she hadn’t even prayed?

      She prayed now. For Milt and Mary, too, making hard choices not only for the sake of their family and of each for the other, but because they trusted God with their future.

      As did she. But she would not pray about the thought, the dream. She couldn’t. Not when Milt lay a foot away, relinquishing with pain and raw courage what had been his for a lifetime. It seemed callous, irreverent even, the line between dream-seeking and covetousness—a slim, slippery treacherous one. God’s will. God’s will. Even that seemed dangerously close to vindicating her right to prayerfully dream while he slept on his losses.

      Thomasina rose and stretched and wandered the room on soundless feet. The lamp left burning in the living room shed shadowy light on photographs that affirmed lives built on Until death do us part.

      Milt in a suit, broad brown hand slicking back a full head of black hair as he traded smiles with his white-veiled bride. Milt astride the tractor seat, a muscular arm snaked around a fair-haired toddler. Milt holding a framed diploma as he and Mary flanked their cap-and-gown-clad twin daughters. Milt clowning for the camera, giving Mary rabbit ears as they posed at their fiftieth wedding anniversary party.

      The deep waters of a verse about times and seasons under God’s heavens soothed heart sores and guilty pangs. Thomasina thought on these things.

      Later, Mary slipped into the room. “You go on and get some rest, Thomasina,” she whispered. “I don’t want you wilting on me while we’re house hunting tomorrow.”

      “What about you?”

      “I’ll be fine.” Mary took off her slippers and sat down on the bed. She looked at Thomasina with a spark of dismissal in her eyes. Thomasina took her paperback book and went out into the living room. When she tiptoed in later to check on Milt, Mary was tucked under his arm, next to his heart, fast asleep. They both seemed small and frail, yet enduring. Dear souls. Thomasina touched her fingers to her lips and blew them a misty kiss.

      Trace got off work at two on Friday night and went right to bed. Recently he had signed papers on a small, run-down two-bedroom bungalow a block past Liberty Flats Community Church. It needed a lot of work, and he wanted to make the most of his Saturday.

      He was awake before the alarm. It took him a moment to realize the sound of running water was coming from Thomasina’s side of the house. He’d heard her come in a couple of hours earlier, and knew she couldn’t have had much rest. Must be bent on getting an early start on the rest of her moving.

      Trace showered and shaved and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt СКАЧАТЬ