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Authors: Lisa J. Lickel
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would be a natural reaction.
He let go a deep breath and turned on the ignition. “It looks like you had a pretty good time,” he said mildly, and was rewarded by Jimmy’s gape. Randy smiled. “Close your mouth, son. You’re lettin’ in sand lions.” They both laughed.
On Sunday they had the best trip back into the Upper Peninsula he could remember. This must be the start of something good. Kaye had sought him out to talk and he and Jimmy found a reasonable place to meet each other half-way. The long wait for God to answer his prayers had been worth it. Please, God, for Ted. Now for Ted. Heal him.
Chapter Seven
Ted Marshall had become accustomed to tingling pain sparking up and down his limbs and spine, and having various parts of his anatomy betray him with trembling and total collapse. He frowned and flexed his left foot. Something was different. He was reluctant to even hope his range of motion seemed easier these last couple of weeks. His last headache had been—well, he couldn’t remember when the last one laid him out. The physical therapy must be starting to kick in. His left leg had all but stopped its twitching, he realized, though the arm had not.
He and Eddy had a good time on their “men’s” fishing trip earlier in the summer. He felt strong enough to guide their boat out. Swimming did wonders to ease the trembling. It had been the most pleasant summer since Dad passed. Since Jilly. Since the year of the apple disaster. He finished a complicated schedule for pruning and spraying at the Woolver’s orchards, profiting Eddy’s trust fund. He also worked out a rotation of needed housing between the migrant workers and the several housing facilities maintained between the co-op and the larger marketers. The clients were pleased.
Ted eased himself onto the lower step of Grace’s house while he watched his son stalk the cat, Trigger. Grace’s house. He realized it didn’t bother him, being able to move on. The house had been his—his and Jilly’s—for a few years first, and Dad’s before that. Life here with his wife had not been all that pleasant. Except for Eddy.
He twisted his lips as his hand slid down the length of the cane which replaced the crutch. He set it aside, wishing he could be out there playing with Eddy and Grace. He was still too unsteady to move quickly on uneven ground. Maybe soon, if I keep improving .
Grace waved at him, brushing her wind-blown hair out of her eyes, and clamped her silly floppy green hat back onto her head when the breeze threatened to take it. They had been to church that morning and she had not complained about complying with the unwritten rule of headgear for women. She had not yet changed her clothes from the full skirt and light top she had worn to the service. She had, however, removed her sandals and ran barefoot in the lawn. If he felt more like a healthy man with a future, something to offer a woman like Grace, he might think about getting into the dating game again. What had happened to her husband? Had he been elderly, sick, or had his death been a sudden shock? He rather thought the latter, although he had not felt right about asking. She should have been a mother. He loved watching her with Eddy.
Ted grinned at the sight of his son who screamed with delight and kicked his heels when he finally touched the marmalade cat’s tail. It streaked by the boy when he almost had her cornered.
“Daddy! We almost got her!”
Ted gave him a thumbs-up. Eddy had gotten a haircut, he could see—probably yesterday when he had been working. Eddy turned five a week ago. Grace made a cake which she served with ice cream to four of his son’s favorite Sunday School friends.
Kindergarten would start soon, and Ted wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The world was so big, so scary. He wanted to keep the little guy close, not let any of the terrible things touch his innocence and break his trust.
Ted leaned back on his elbows and lifted his face
He let go a deep breath and turned on the ignition. “It looks like you had a pretty good time,” he said mildly, and was rewarded by Jimmy’s gape. Randy smiled. “Close your mouth, son. You’re lettin’ in sand lions.” They both laughed.
On Sunday they had the best trip back into the Upper Peninsula he could remember. This must be the start of something good. Kaye had sought him out to talk and he and Jimmy found a reasonable place to meet each other half-way. The long wait for God to answer his prayers had been worth it. Please, God, for Ted. Now for Ted. Heal him.
Chapter Seven
Ted Marshall had become accustomed to tingling pain sparking up and down his limbs and spine, and having various parts of his anatomy betray him with trembling and total collapse. He frowned and flexed his left foot. Something was different. He was reluctant to even hope his range of motion seemed easier these last couple of weeks. His last headache had been—well, he couldn’t remember when the last one laid him out. The physical therapy must be starting to kick in. His left leg had all but stopped its twitching, he realized, though the arm had not.
He and Eddy had a good time on their “men’s” fishing trip earlier in the summer. He felt strong enough to guide their boat out. Swimming did wonders to ease the trembling. It had been the most pleasant summer since Dad passed. Since Jilly. Since the year of the apple disaster. He finished a complicated schedule for pruning and spraying at the Woolver’s orchards, profiting Eddy’s trust fund. He also worked out a rotation of needed housing between the migrant workers and the several housing facilities maintained between the co-op and the larger marketers. The clients were pleased.
Ted eased himself onto the lower step of Grace’s house while he watched his son stalk the cat, Trigger. Grace’s house. He realized it didn’t bother him, being able to move on. The house had been his—his and Jilly’s—for a few years first, and Dad’s before that. Life here with his wife had not been all that pleasant. Except for Eddy.
He twisted his lips as his hand slid down the length of the cane which replaced the crutch. He set it aside, wishing he could be out there playing with Eddy and Grace. He was still too unsteady to move quickly on uneven ground. Maybe soon, if I keep improving .
Grace waved at him, brushing her wind-blown hair out of her eyes, and clamped her silly floppy green hat back onto her head when the breeze threatened to take it. They had been to church that morning and she had not complained about complying with the unwritten rule of headgear for women. She had not yet changed her clothes from the full skirt and light top she had worn to the service. She had, however, removed her sandals and ran barefoot in the lawn. If he felt more like a healthy man with a future, something to offer a woman like Grace, he might think about getting into the dating game again. What had happened to her husband? Had he been elderly, sick, or had his death been a sudden shock? He rather thought the latter, although he had not felt right about asking. She should have been a mother. He loved watching her with Eddy.
Ted grinned at the sight of his son who screamed with delight and kicked his heels when he finally touched the marmalade cat’s tail. It streaked by the boy when he almost had her cornered.
“Daddy! We almost got her!”
Ted gave him a thumbs-up. Eddy had gotten a haircut, he could see—probably yesterday when he had been working. Eddy turned five a week ago. Grace made a cake which she served with ice cream to four of his son’s favorite Sunday School friends.
Kindergarten would start soon, and Ted wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The world was so big, so scary. He wanted to keep the little guy close, not let any of the terrible things touch his innocence and break his trust.
Ted leaned back on his elbows and lifted his face
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