This is a continuation of an excerpt from Where Love Once Lived.
She kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Son. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.” She shook her head slowly. “I love the Lord and trust Him fully, but it’s such a shame. We finally got to the point in our lives where we could enjoy ourselves, and now...I’m sorry for Bill. Help him, Son. It must be difficult for him.”
“I will, but what about you? Should we call the doctor?” Brian asked.
“There’s no time for me. Just know that I love you and God loves you.” She patted him on the hand. “And promise me you’ll go to church faithfully, the way you used to.”
“Yes. I promise. And I love you, too.”
“Don’t give up on finding the right woman. I know how hard it was for you to live with Judy, but now you deserve some happiness. You’ll find it, with God’s help.” She turned to Amy and patted her hand, too. “I’m sorry, dear, I know you love your mother, but she was never right for your father.”
Amy smiled. “I know. It’s okay, Grandma.”
Brian knelt in front of his mother. “I want to tell both of you why I moved back to Austin—”
“Look!” His mother stood and pointed to the window behind Brian.
“What?” he said as he quickly stood.
“There! All over the place. Can’t you see them?” Her eyes opened wide.
“Who?” Brian asked.
“Look. They shouldn’t be here. Tell Dad.”
Amy stood next to her grandmother and put an arm around her, gently maneuvering her to the sofa. “It’s okay, Grandma. No one’s there.” Amy sat next to her on the sofa.
Brian went to the window and looked out in both directions. “Are you sure, Amy?”
“I’m sure, Dad.”
His mother cowered and pulled away from Amy. “Right there in the Johnson’s yard. Look!”
Brian continued to search the area. “I can’t see anyone.”
Dad came into the room. “It’s okay, Martha.” He gave her a white handkerchief. She stared at it and then stuffed it in between the sofa cushions.
“What did she see?” Brian asked.
Dad shrugged. “She sees things. The best I can figure, she sees soldiers in the yards here and across the street. I don’t know.”
“Could it be angels?” Brian asked.
Amy shook her head. “She wouldn’t be frightened if it was.”
As if to end the conversation, Brian’s mother stood, smiled, and danced away from the sofa, singing a song Brian recognized from his childhood. She was down the hall in a matter of seconds, twirling on her feet along the way and with the posture of a professional dancer.
“She was okay while you were gone, Dad. She talked to us. Even called me by name, talked about Judy, and told me to go to church. She was her old self for a while.”