Read Online The Only Best Place by Carolyne Aarsen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carolyne Aarsen
Ads: Link
help
but resent. These two were like the tag team of familial censure.
“It's this book over here, honey,” Wilma said, pushing her chair back and picking up a large black book from the countertop.
I relaxed. I guess Wilma figured, in this house it was Bring Your Own Bible. “Why don't you bring it to your father, and he
can read something out of it for us?”
“That's okay,” Dan protested. “Someone else can read.”
But it was too late. Anneke, bursting with pride at her own importance, hustled to our end of the table carrying her sacred
burden and duty.
Dan bit his lip as he took the heavy book from her, then pulled her onto his lap. “Anything in particular?” he asked as he
flipped through the pages, their rustling the only sound in the reverent quiet that had descended the moment he laid the Bible
on the table.
Even the teenagers, who had seemed oblivious to what was going on with the adults, became quiet. Everyone seemed to know the
unwritten rules, I thought, glancing around the table as people sat back, folded arms across chests, or leaned forward, waiting.
“Read what you like, Dan,”Wilma said quietly.
Dan bit his lip, frowning as he paged through the Bible. Then a gentle smile eased over his lips as he stopped. “I've always
liked this piece.” His hand smoothed over the page like a caress.
“This is from 1 Corinthians 13. I know it's read a lot, but I want to read it again.” He cleared his throat, took a slow breath,
and started reading.
” ‘If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal….
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.’ “
I listened to the cadence of the words and caught a tone in Dan's voice I had never heard before. It was gentle, soft, and
carried warmth and comfort.
Everyone else seemed to pick up on it as well. The lines in Wilma's forehead eased away; a genuine smile warmed Gloria's face.
Judy stared off into the distance as if remembering other Bible readings around this table, in this room.
Even Anneke, my wiggly worm, now leaned against her father, her head on his shoulder, the quiet sound of his voice soothing
her restlessness.
I turned my attention back to Dan and what he was reading. “‘And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest
of these is love.’ “
The warmth in Dan's voice pushed the last words deep into my being. More than the words, the tone and timbre of his voice
touched me, as if he had become another person right in front of my eyes.
“Thanks, Dan.” Wilma's voice sounded like a benediction. “That was lovely. Could you close in prayer?”
I felt nervous for my husband. Reading the Bible was one thing, but praying off the cuff? The only thing resembling a prayer
I'd ever heard from Dan was a muttered “Good Lord” when he was especially frustrated with Anneke or Nicholas.
Dan nodded slowly, glanced around the table at everyone but me, then lowered his head. And as he prayed, I got another surprise.
His voice filled with an emotion I'd never heard before. I opened my eyes and glanced around the table. Everyone, even the
teenagers, had their heads bowed and their eyes closed.
Once again I felt peripheral to a family I couldn't understand.
A pause followed the end of Dan's prayer and then the table erupted into a cacophony of noise and busyness.
I started clearing away the plates, when Judy put her hand on mine. “Don't. The kids can clean up. We'll move to the living
room.”
The seven adults seated themselves in chairs, on floor pillows, laughing and chatting as they settled in. I perched on the
edge of a kitchen chair that had been hauled in, feeling like the cliché homely girl at the prom who people smile patronizingly
at but never talk to. The noise coming from the kitchen counterpointed the buzzing talk in the living room. Judy and Gloria's
but resent. These two were like the tag team of familial censure.
“It's this book over here, honey,” Wilma said, pushing her chair back and picking up a large black book from the countertop.
I relaxed. I guess Wilma figured, in this house it was Bring Your Own Bible. “Why don't you bring it to your father, and he
can read something out of it for us?”
“That's okay,” Dan protested. “Someone else can read.”
But it was too late. Anneke, bursting with pride at her own importance, hustled to our end of the table carrying her sacred
burden and duty.
Dan bit his lip as he took the heavy book from her, then pulled her onto his lap. “Anything in particular?” he asked as he
flipped through the pages, their rustling the only sound in the reverent quiet that had descended the moment he laid the Bible
on the table.
Even the teenagers, who had seemed oblivious to what was going on with the adults, became quiet. Everyone seemed to know the
unwritten rules, I thought, glancing around the table as people sat back, folded arms across chests, or leaned forward, waiting.
“Read what you like, Dan,”Wilma said quietly.
Dan bit his lip, frowning as he paged through the Bible. Then a gentle smile eased over his lips as he stopped. “I've always
liked this piece.” His hand smoothed over the page like a caress.
“This is from 1 Corinthians 13. I know it's read a lot, but I want to read it again.” He cleared his throat, took a slow breath,
and started reading.
” ‘If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal….
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.’ “
I listened to the cadence of the words and caught a tone in Dan's voice I had never heard before. It was gentle, soft, and
carried warmth and comfort.
Everyone else seemed to pick up on it as well. The lines in Wilma's forehead eased away; a genuine smile warmed Gloria's face.
Judy stared off into the distance as if remembering other Bible readings around this table, in this room.
Even Anneke, my wiggly worm, now leaned against her father, her head on his shoulder, the quiet sound of his voice soothing
her restlessness.
I turned my attention back to Dan and what he was reading. “‘And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest
of these is love.’ “
The warmth in Dan's voice pushed the last words deep into my being. More than the words, the tone and timbre of his voice
touched me, as if he had become another person right in front of my eyes.
“Thanks, Dan.” Wilma's voice sounded like a benediction. “That was lovely. Could you close in prayer?”
I felt nervous for my husband. Reading the Bible was one thing, but praying off the cuff? The only thing resembling a prayer
I'd ever heard from Dan was a muttered “Good Lord” when he was especially frustrated with Anneke or Nicholas.
Dan nodded slowly, glanced around the table at everyone but me, then lowered his head. And as he prayed, I got another surprise.
His voice filled with an emotion I'd never heard before. I opened my eyes and glanced around the table. Everyone, even the
teenagers, had their heads bowed and their eyes closed.
Once again I felt peripheral to a family I couldn't understand.
A pause followed the end of Dan's prayer and then the table erupted into a cacophony of noise and busyness.
I started clearing away the plates, when Judy put her hand on mine. “Don't. The kids can clean up. We'll move to the living
room.”
The seven adults seated themselves in chairs, on floor pillows, laughing and chatting as they settled in. I perched on the
edge of a kitchen chair that had been hauled in, feeling like the cliché homely girl at the prom who people smile patronizingly
at but never talk to. The noise coming from the kitchen counterpointed the buzzing talk in the living room. Judy and Gloria's
Similar Books
