Read Online Wednesday's Child by Clare Revell - Free Book Online

poet once said that sunsets are magical and simply watching one can make someone feel better.”
    Jacqui got out, rubbing her eyes. “Right.” Her voice still carried the echo of her tears.
    “Don’t believe it myself, any more than I believe in the luck o’the Irish, but that’s what the poem said. Anyway, I have this bench right over here.” Liam walked with her towards it. “I had it put here after Sally died. It’s part of their ‘adopt a bench’ scheme. I just come and sit here sometimes. I wrote a poem to go on the plaque. Wanted something more personal than just her name and dates, you know.”
    Jacqui stood and read the plaque, her eyes glistening.
     
    My love
    And I would come
    And sit here, feed the ducks
    Or walk around the lake. Come spring,
    Autumn, summer or winter, we’d be here.
    Until the day Sally was taken
    Away, leaving me just
    Memories of
    My love.
     
    “That’s lovely. Did you really write that?”
    Liam nodded. “Yeah, it’s the only poem I’ve ever written. She loved it here.” He sat down and patted the space beside him. “Sit.” He nodded as she sat and lapsed into silence. He gazed out over the water. Aware she was crying, Liam pulled out a tissue and offered it to her.
    “Thanks.” She buried her face in it.
    He smiled. “It amazes me how women are always grateful for these, but never bother to ask if it’s a clean one.” He winked as she stiffened and pulled it away from her eyes looking at it.
    “It’s clean. My mother always told me to wear clean underwear and carry a clean hanky every time I go out. Though I use tissues so I don’t have to launder and iron them.”
    Jacqui nodded, tears falling and shoulders shaking. Liam looked at her. For a moment he hesitated, remembering the vibrant, almost electric feeling that passed between them at each accidental touch. To instigate it and encourage that feeling would be wrong. But at the same time he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing to comfort her. Offering her a hug was the right thing to do, and he had to put his feelings aside.
    Taking a deep breath, he held out an arm. “Come here.”
    As she moved into his embrace and buried her face in his shoulder, he held her tightly, amazed at the force of emotion flooding her.
    He’d mourned his wife, but never allowed himself to cry. Except the other night, at the pizza place when he’d shared his pain with this woman.
    He was proud of the fact he hadn’t cried, properly cried, since he was seven. Anger, on the other hand, he knew too well. He sat in silence, just holding her, looking out at the water and pondering why he’d almost let loose that night.
    Eventually her sobs slowed and she looked up, her face red and swollen. “I’m sorry. I made your shirt all wet.”
    “Never apologize for showing your feelings. I’ll dry. Besides, if you can’t cry on a friend’s shoulder who can you cry on?” He smiled at her as she sat up. “I’m happy to lend a shoulder whenever you need one.”
    “Thank you.” She took the new tissue he offered.
    He pulled his arm back, not wanting to impose the contact any longer than was comfortable. He smiled and pointed across the lake. “Watch—this is the best bit.”
    Jacqui followed his finger and gasped as a rush of gold swept across the lake as the setting sun hit the surface of the water. “Wow.”
    “That about sums it up.”
    The orange lit her eyes and something moved within him. This woman touched him on an unexpected level. He wondered whether she felt the same way. He wasn’t ready for anything more than friendship. But he’d promised her a sunset and silence.
    The sun slid beneath the water before Jacqui took a deep breath and turned to look at him. “Thank you. You were right. I did need to get out.”
    Liam eased his shoulders against the back of the bench. “You’re welcome.”
    She returned the smile. “You’re good company, Liam. You know when to talk and when to be silent. Not many know that