The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning, #2) (87)

Erin snorted.

I was relieved to hear that Grandma Bonnie had been with Mom.

“Well, if she seems depressed or stressed or anything like that, give her a big hug. Okay?”

Gabby squinted for a second before nodding, but Sarah blinked away her tears, and she didn’t even know the full story.

“I heard Dad say he talked to the motel manager, and your job will be waiting for you when you get home,” Gabby said.

That surprised me, so I smiled. “That’s a relief. But enough about me. Are you a star yet?” I asked Sarah.

And for the next two hours, my girls caught me up on their lives. And I lived vicariously through them until it was time to say goodbye.

Eight days. I could make it.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE





JOURNEY, “OPEN ARMS”





Eve

As expected, the turkey was dry, the stuffing was soggy, and the potatoes were instant. But the pumpkin pie was surprisingly delicious.

And the six people gathered around my table were exactly who I needed—sinners with a desire to do better, and a need for other non-judgmental sinners to hold their hand, share space, and let them know they’re not alone.

Raymond said the Serenity Prayer before we ate.

After the meal, some of us gathered in the common area to play board games and work on puzzles. I thought I’d spend the day in my room crying and feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I (appropriately) gave thanks for Kyle loving me unconditionally. My parents for doing what they felt was best. And, of course, to God for granting me this new perspective.

For surrounding me with people who care.

And for saving my life.

“My family is here, if you’ll excuse me,” Raymond said, pushing back in his chair.

I continued to work on the autumn tree puzzle with two other people until they left me to visit with family as well. Finding another piece of the puzzle, I leaned over the table to place it next to an edge piece.

“I colored this for you.”

I froze, except for my heart. It lurched into my throat at the sound of Josh’s voice. When I inched my head in his direction, he grinned, handing me a picture of an apple orchard and a bouquet of red roses.

“Thank you,” I whispered because I could barely speak past the lump of emotion in my throat.

He hugged me, and I closed my eyes while running my hands through his hair. I knew Kyle was standing behind him, but I couldn’t look at him.

Not yet.

There weren’t enough boxes of tissues in the entire rehab clinic to handle the tears I knew I’d cry when that moment came.

And it came all too quickly because Josh released me, and my gaze lifted.

“Hey, beautiful,” Kyle said, unzipping his Carhartt jacket. He no longer had his arm in a sling.

“Hey,” I said, but my voice immediately broke, and I cupped a hand at my mouth. I refused to blink, but it didn’t matter. The tears freely flowed down my face.

Kyle didn’t hesitate for a second before his good hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb smearing my tears before he cradled the back of my head, and his injured arm hooked my waist. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

Everything at that stupid rehab center peeled away a layer of my skin—the scars and stubborn calluses—until I felt exposed and raw. My time there changed me forever. I had to experience all the emotions from the previous four years without the numbing effect of alcohol. And I wondered what else I robbed myself of feeling completely.

Joy?

Peace?

Love?

“Are you feeling better?” Josh asked.

I released Kyle and wiped my tears while sniffling. Then I turned toward Josh, sitting at the table and looking at the puzzle while he wriggled out of his coat.

“I am,” I said with a smile, just above a whisper.

A new round of tears hit hard and fast when I saw Josh’s arm and the pink raised scars.

“Are you coming home today?” Josh asked.

My gaze shifted from his arm to him, and I quickly wiped my tears again while shaking my head. “Not yet. But soon. How is your arm?” I sat next to him.

He looked at it. “It’s getting better.”

“That’s good,” I said past the lump in my throat.

“The doctor said he’ll have minimal to no long-term scars,” Kyle said as we sat at the table with Josh.

Was he saying that to make me feel better? It didn’t. The sound of Josh screaming would stay in my head forever.

I combed my hair with my fingers. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Josh rested his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. “You look pretty.”

My heart twisted, wringing more tears from my eyes because he was so sweet, and I couldn’t stop looking at his arm.

Those scars could have been on his face.

Kyle mimicked Josh’s pose and grinned. “I second that opinion.”

I blushed and laughed. “Thank you. How’s your arm?”

“Better. I’m doing my exercises for it.”

My smile faded. “You shouldn’t have carried me. That was too much.”

Kyle twisted his lips and bobbed his head. “Perhaps it was too much, but it’s exactly what I should have done, and that’s why I did it. The alternative wasn’t an option.”