Free This Side of Heaven by Karen Kingsbury Page B

more time here. Usually Josh discouraged her from coming, complaining that he was too tired or not ready for company. He seemed to prefer their visits take place at their parents’ house. But maybe that would be different now, too.
    She knocked on the door and he opened it more quickly than usual. Was it her imagination or was he standing taller, straighter? “Josh . . .”
    The song was still running from his stereo system, but it wasn’t as loud as earlier. His eyes met hers and he held out both arms. “Everything’s going to be okay, Linds.” His voice was soft, full of the emotion he rarely showed. “It really is.”
    Her brother had been taller than her since her second year in high school, and at six foot four he had nine inches on her, easily. He’d lost a lot of weight, but he still hadn’t found the svelte athletic build he’d had as a teenager. Lindsay didn’t mind. She put her arms around him and pressed her head to his chest. He was a mountain of a man, and his extra padding made her feel small and safe in his arms.
    When she pulled away, she let her eyes linger on his and she saw it, the sparkle that hadn’t been there for three years. “You’re really back, aren’t you?”
    He nodded. “Like I just woke up from a nightmare.” He stepped aside and motioned for her to follow him into the apartment.
    She had a little time. The two of them moved into his living room. She set her purse down on his cleaned and polished coffee table and as they sat on the couch facing his fireplace, he grinned. “See, Linds. Not a single dish or piece of mail.” He gestured to the clean room. “Proud of me?”
    “I’m trying not to pass out.” She giggled. Her brother had always kept a messy room, even when they were kids. “Life takes too much time,” he used to say. But since his accident, the rest of the family worried that his dirty apartment was a symptom of his pain and possible depression. She surveyed the room, the way the furniture was in order, the clean windowsills, and she patted his knee. “I might have to hire you for mine.”
    They fell into an easy conversation and Lindsay turned the topic back to his renewed faith. “So you actually feel better today? I mean, your back doesn’t hurt as much?”
    Josh shifted, probably trying to find a comfortable position. “Before, I let the pain control everything I did, my entire day. Sometimes my back hurt so bad I could almost picture the pain like a living, breathing being, like the devil had me surrounded and there was no way out. You know?”
    Lindsay reached for his hand. Her heart hurt to hear her brother talk about his situation that way. So what if he hadn’t wanted company. If he’d been that down and discouraged, if the pain had felt that overwhelming . . . “You should’ve said something. I could’ve come by after work more often and at least brought you dinner.”
    “No.” Josh’s forehead was damp, proof that he was still hurting even now as he talked with her. But the peace in his eyes went deeper than whatever he was feeling. “Don’t worry about it, Linds. I was fine.” He looked at the photos lined across his fireplace mantel. “I had to reach this place by myself. Just me and God.”
    She stood and moved closer to the three photographs. The one of the little girl caught her attention first and she took hold of it. “Were these here last time I came by?”
    “Probably.” He sounded sheepish. “It’s not like I usually ask you to sit with me in the living room. Anytime you’ve been here I’m usually in a hurry to get you out.”
    “Why?” She still had the picture in her hand, but she looked back at him, hurt by his admission.
    “Because.” His expression begged her to understand. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. My back . . . it can be a challenge getting around. When I’m here alone I don’t have to act like everything’s okay. I can lie down on the floor or stay in bed if that’s what makes me feel