Read Online A Little Ray of Sunshine by Lani Diane Rich - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lani Diane Rich
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keep reading ‘Golden Arches,’” I said, pointing to RV park sign.
She leaned forward to look at it. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Doesn’t help that the letters are painted yellow.”
She sat back. “It looks like a pretty place, though. I like the log cabin lodge thing they’ve got going on with the rec center—”
I twiddled my fingers on the steering wheel for a few seconds, then twisted in my seat to face her. “So, you fix people, right? I mean, that’s what you do?”
“Well, not really.” She cocked her head to the side. “What exactly are you asking me?”
“I just want to know what you do. I mean, when we met you said you help people, right? You fix them. That’s part of the whole angel thing, isn’t it?”
“No.” Jess cleared her throat. “I don’t really fix people. It’s not like a surgery. I just do what the Universe tells me. I help the way I’m guided to help. I don’t—”
“But if you went there,” I said, frustrated, “and someone was obviously broken, then that could be the reason why you went. Like, to fix him.”
“I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I don’t fix people. I can’t change who they are, or interfere with their free will. It doesn’t work that way. I just...” Jess watched me in silence for a while, then shook her head. “What are we talking about?”
“When we met, you said everything happens for a reason, right? You met me, and that’s why you’re going to Fletcher now.” I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling of my truck cab. For someone who tagged herself as insightful, Jess was being particularly obtuse at the moment. “I mean, maybe you’re meant to help someone there. Someone who writes weird letters and sends them with his brother. Someone like that.”
She shrugged. “I know you’re bothered by that, but it was just a rent refund. It was thoughtful of him to remember after all these years.”
“Thoughtful, sure. But not funny. Not warm. I know I haven’t exactly earned funny and warm, but if Luke were stuck in a waiting room with Hitler, he couldn’t not be funny and warm. It’s just who he is.” I sighed. “Or who he was. Trust me, the Luke I know is not the same guy who wrote that letter.”
Jess nibbled one edge of her lip. “Has it occurred to you that maybe it’s not my destiny to help Luke?”
I huffed and threw my hands up in frustration.
“Well if it’s not yours, then who—?” I broke off, and she raised an eyebrow at me. I shook my head. “No. Trust me. I’m not a fixer. I—” I sighed, my mind pushing against the memory of stupid things my mother has said to me. “I’m a breaker.”
There was a long moment of silence. “You really believe that?”
I shrugged. I had believed it enough, once, to make the biggest mistake of my life, so... “Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you think you broke Luke?”
A sharp pain shot through my ribs at her words, and I realized I’d hit my limit on this conversation.
“You know what?” I said, reaching for the gear shift. “Let me get this thing parked and set up, and we’ll get you to the airport.”
“He’s not broken,” she said, her voice soft.
I sat back, leaving the car in park, as the core of my being roiled with emotion I struggled to keep below the surface. “I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“I know you don’t. But I think it’s important for you to know that Luke isn’t broken.”
“How would you know? You’ve never even met him.”
Jess stared straight ahead at the lodge, but I could tell by the misty look in her eyes that her head was somewhere else. “If he was really broken, he wouldn’t have been able to send you any letter at all.” Her voice was strange and distant, and her eyes blinked slowly as though she could hardly bear to look at whatever pictures her mind was putting in front of her. Then, she blinked hard, and turned her focus to me. “Whatever it is, it’s reparable. It’s not too late. He can be who he was
She leaned forward to look at it. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Doesn’t help that the letters are painted yellow.”
She sat back. “It looks like a pretty place, though. I like the log cabin lodge thing they’ve got going on with the rec center—”
I twiddled my fingers on the steering wheel for a few seconds, then twisted in my seat to face her. “So, you fix people, right? I mean, that’s what you do?”
“Well, not really.” She cocked her head to the side. “What exactly are you asking me?”
“I just want to know what you do. I mean, when we met you said you help people, right? You fix them. That’s part of the whole angel thing, isn’t it?”
“No.” Jess cleared her throat. “I don’t really fix people. It’s not like a surgery. I just do what the Universe tells me. I help the way I’m guided to help. I don’t—”
“But if you went there,” I said, frustrated, “and someone was obviously broken, then that could be the reason why you went. Like, to fix him.”
“I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I don’t fix people. I can’t change who they are, or interfere with their free will. It doesn’t work that way. I just...” Jess watched me in silence for a while, then shook her head. “What are we talking about?”
“When we met, you said everything happens for a reason, right? You met me, and that’s why you’re going to Fletcher now.” I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling of my truck cab. For someone who tagged herself as insightful, Jess was being particularly obtuse at the moment. “I mean, maybe you’re meant to help someone there. Someone who writes weird letters and sends them with his brother. Someone like that.”
She shrugged. “I know you’re bothered by that, but it was just a rent refund. It was thoughtful of him to remember after all these years.”
“Thoughtful, sure. But not funny. Not warm. I know I haven’t exactly earned funny and warm, but if Luke were stuck in a waiting room with Hitler, he couldn’t not be funny and warm. It’s just who he is.” I sighed. “Or who he was. Trust me, the Luke I know is not the same guy who wrote that letter.”
Jess nibbled one edge of her lip. “Has it occurred to you that maybe it’s not my destiny to help Luke?”
I huffed and threw my hands up in frustration.
“Well if it’s not yours, then who—?” I broke off, and she raised an eyebrow at me. I shook my head. “No. Trust me. I’m not a fixer. I—” I sighed, my mind pushing against the memory of stupid things my mother has said to me. “I’m a breaker.”
There was a long moment of silence. “You really believe that?”
I shrugged. I had believed it enough, once, to make the biggest mistake of my life, so... “Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you think you broke Luke?”
A sharp pain shot through my ribs at her words, and I realized I’d hit my limit on this conversation.
“You know what?” I said, reaching for the gear shift. “Let me get this thing parked and set up, and we’ll get you to the airport.”
“He’s not broken,” she said, her voice soft.
I sat back, leaving the car in park, as the core of my being roiled with emotion I struggled to keep below the surface. “I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“I know you don’t. But I think it’s important for you to know that Luke isn’t broken.”
“How would you know? You’ve never even met him.”
Jess stared straight ahead at the lodge, but I could tell by the misty look in her eyes that her head was somewhere else. “If he was really broken, he wouldn’t have been able to send you any letter at all.” Her voice was strange and distant, and her eyes blinked slowly as though she could hardly bear to look at whatever pictures her mind was putting in front of her. Then, she blinked hard, and turned her focus to me. “Whatever it is, it’s reparable. It’s not too late. He can be who he was
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