Read Online Love's Awakening by Kelly Stuart - Free Book Online Page B

amounted to mutilation, that they, the loved ones, would never let go of their preconceived idea of the people being a certain sex.
    David had been nowhere near the point of transition. Nowhere damn near.
    Celia worked on a reply to Oliver’s letter, their kiss humming in her mind all the while.
    Oliver:
    You know how windows get when it rains hard? The rain drills down, the water runs together, and if you look outside, all you see are big blurs. Especially when you’re driving. Smudges of red, blue, patriotic smears like it’s the Fourth of July, or whatever.
    I went to church with your grandmother last Sunday. I’m not religious, but she wanted to go. She’s getting to be a foxhole believer. Anyway, so we drove to a Methodist church. Shirley went straight to the altar and kneeled. I was more roundabout. I ran my hands over the columns. They were rough. I liked them. They reminded me of your cast. Which I forgot to sign, by the way.
    Anyway, once the service started, Shirley was all cocked ears and vigorous, agreeable nods. The pastor had a unibrow. A unibrow. I could not focus on anything except his black fluffy caterpillar, waving, weaving and straining with the fury of the Lord. The pastor caught me gawking. Several times. To avoid him, I looked at the one stained-glass window. Rain pounded the window, and the angel was a blur. That’s not supposed to happen. Rain isn’t supposed to change the image in stained glass. Right?
    I blinked, and the angel took the shape of a monster—dark, menacing, leering, pointed teeth. My pulse shot up, but when I checked again, the angel was back. Shirley and I drove home in a monsoon. I saw the monster in every blur. That’s my life. No definition. A blur. Faint edges. I’m floating, like David is. I don’t know if I like being a mother. I don’t know where I’m going. I’m working a temporary job soon, though. Three weeks. It’ll be nice to get out of the house and have a life again for a bit.
    Anyway, not sure the point of this letter. No need to reply. I hope you’re well.
    -Celia
    *****
    Dinner at Applebee’s with the Thompson family went okay. Lots of fake smiles and fake laughing from Malcolm and Sherelle. Lots of stolen glances toward Oliver and Shannon from Paul and Erin. The six of them got together maybe three, four times a year. These dinners lasted an hour, not much more.
    This dinner was no different. Paul and Erin caught Oliver and Shannon up on their friends, activities and grades. Malcolm and Sherelle were great parents. The kids were great kids. They had perfect lives.
    Shannon announced that she was engaged. She showed around cellphone pictures of her fiance and invited the Thompsons and Oliver to the wedding.
    Yeah, right, Oliver thought. You want me there as much as you want a serial killer there.
    “Hey,” Shannon whispered from her seat next to Oliver. “I mean it. I’d like you there.”
    “Yeah?”
    She smiled. “Yeah.”
    “O-okay,” he said. “Count me in.”
    Like with the other dinners, Oliver left after giving each person a perfunctory hug. Despite Shannon’s olive branch, most of Oliver’s soul had been scythed out. He loved these children, but he’d never had a true, deep conversation with them. He was glad they were happy and would have it no other way. But, damn. Having them in his life was painful.
    Oliver hoped Malcolm and Sherelle talked to the children about safe sex. Using condoms. All that jazz. He and Shannon had been stupid. Hell, Oliver was twenty-nine and still stupid. The children weren’t stupid, though. Nope, they were brilliant and beautiful.
    *****
    The third floor of a modest ten-story building in Arlington housed the offices of Gunter & Philpott. Celia entered hesitantly, wondering what to expect. Her life was about to change—again.
    The law firm was relatively small and employed five lawyers, three paralegals and seven secretaries/assistants. Celia’s new boss was Ted Gunter, a former subordinate of