door.
“Honey,” her mother said, “Pastor Stanford and Doris are here to see you. They had dinner with one of the church families and came by because they’re concerned about you.”
“I really appreciate them coming by, but right now I just don’t want to see
anyone.
Please tell them I love them, but I need to be alone.”
The door opened, and Adrienne took a step inside. Her line of sightswerved from the chair where she had expected to find Linda, to where she sat at the desk. “You need help, honey,” she said. “And the best people to help you are your pastor and his wife.”
“I’m all right, Mom. Please, I just need to be left alone.”
“I’m trying to understand, honey, and so is your daddy.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll look in on you later.”
When her mother’s footsteps died out down the hall, Linda turned back to the scrapbook. There were little love notes that Lewis had often handed her at the end of a date, or at church. She had loved him for being such a romantic.
She closed the scrapbook, rested her head against it, and wept.
After a while she dried her tears and carried the scrapbook across the room, then laid it on the floor beside her hope chest. She knelt in front of the chest and began pulling out linens and other items that she’d started putting away ever since she and Lewis had admitted they were serious about each other.
Memories rushed through her mind as she looked over her handiwork and recalled every loving stitch she had sewn. With each towel, washcloth, pillowcase, sheet, and crocheted doily there had been a sweet dream of a happy life with the man she loved. She had dreamed of the new home they would establish on their wedding day … of her joy of cooking, washing, ironing, sewing, and all the things a wife does for her husband. And of course there were the dreams of children … happy laughter and the patter of little feet around the house.
Ashes, now. Only ashes.
Once again her tears began to flow. She put the scrapbook at the very bottom of the chest, then placed the linens and other things on top of it and closed the lid.
She must let Mr. Higgins know they wouldn’t be needing the apartment. She would have her father go by and tell him. She gave a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to pick up her clothes and other personal belongings and bring them back from the apartment.
Her clothes.
Linda’s eyes swung to the closet where the door stood partly open. She hadn’t seen the wedding dress in her closet when she dressed that morning.
She went to the closet and fumbled through the dresses. Not there.
Mom must have put it in her own closet, thinking that it would upset me to see it
.
Sweet, caring Mom.
For some unexplainable reason, Linda needed to see the dress.
She went to her door, opened it slightly, and listened. The Stanfords were still in the house. She could hear a murmur of conversation between them and her parents.
She hurried down the hall to her parents’ bedroom. It took only a few seconds to find the wedding dress and take it back to her room. Her whole body trembled as she carried the beautiful white dress to the bed, sat down, and held it before her eyes.
“Why do you torture yourself, Linda?” she said in a whisper. “This was the dress you were wearing last night when you went through the worst nightmare of your life—being left at the church by the treacherous man you loved and trusted.”
She held the dress to her face, staining it with her tears. When another tap came at the door, she forced her voice to remain steady and said, “Yes?”
Adrienne’s eyes widened when she saw the dress in Linda’s hands. “Honey, what are you doing?”
Linda held the delicate dress in clenched fists and said, “I just had to look at it.”
“Why? I put it in my closet so you wouldn’t have to see it.” “I don’t know why, Mom. I just had to.”
Adrienne sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. “An
“Honey,” her mother said, “Pastor Stanford and Doris are here to see you. They had dinner with one of the church families and came by because they’re concerned about you.”
“I really appreciate them coming by, but right now I just don’t want to see
anyone.
Please tell them I love them, but I need to be alone.”
The door opened, and Adrienne took a step inside. Her line of sightswerved from the chair where she had expected to find Linda, to where she sat at the desk. “You need help, honey,” she said. “And the best people to help you are your pastor and his wife.”
“I’m all right, Mom. Please, I just need to be left alone.”
“I’m trying to understand, honey, and so is your daddy.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll look in on you later.”
When her mother’s footsteps died out down the hall, Linda turned back to the scrapbook. There were little love notes that Lewis had often handed her at the end of a date, or at church. She had loved him for being such a romantic.
She closed the scrapbook, rested her head against it, and wept.
After a while she dried her tears and carried the scrapbook across the room, then laid it on the floor beside her hope chest. She knelt in front of the chest and began pulling out linens and other items that she’d started putting away ever since she and Lewis had admitted they were serious about each other.
Memories rushed through her mind as she looked over her handiwork and recalled every loving stitch she had sewn. With each towel, washcloth, pillowcase, sheet, and crocheted doily there had been a sweet dream of a happy life with the man she loved. She had dreamed of the new home they would establish on their wedding day … of her joy of cooking, washing, ironing, sewing, and all the things a wife does for her husband. And of course there were the dreams of children … happy laughter and the patter of little feet around the house.
Ashes, now. Only ashes.
Once again her tears began to flow. She put the scrapbook at the very bottom of the chest, then placed the linens and other things on top of it and closed the lid.
She must let Mr. Higgins know they wouldn’t be needing the apartment. She would have her father go by and tell him. She gave a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to pick up her clothes and other personal belongings and bring them back from the apartment.
Her clothes.
Linda’s eyes swung to the closet where the door stood partly open. She hadn’t seen the wedding dress in her closet when she dressed that morning.
She went to the closet and fumbled through the dresses. Not there.
Mom must have put it in her own closet, thinking that it would upset me to see it
.
Sweet, caring Mom.
For some unexplainable reason, Linda needed to see the dress.
She went to her door, opened it slightly, and listened. The Stanfords were still in the house. She could hear a murmur of conversation between them and her parents.
She hurried down the hall to her parents’ bedroom. It took only a few seconds to find the wedding dress and take it back to her room. Her whole body trembled as she carried the beautiful white dress to the bed, sat down, and held it before her eyes.
“Why do you torture yourself, Linda?” she said in a whisper. “This was the dress you were wearing last night when you went through the worst nightmare of your life—being left at the church by the treacherous man you loved and trusted.”
She held the dress to her face, staining it with her tears. When another tap came at the door, she forced her voice to remain steady and said, “Yes?”
Adrienne’s eyes widened when she saw the dress in Linda’s hands. “Honey, what are you doing?”
Linda held the delicate dress in clenched fists and said, “I just had to look at it.”
“Why? I put it in my closet so you wouldn’t have to see it.” “I don’t know why, Mom. I just had to.”
Adrienne sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. “An
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