Free The Gingerbread Boy by Lori Lapekes

a daughter to me. I may seem like a cantankerous old toad to most people, and I am a cantankerous old toad to most people. I have decided to show you otherwise …
    As Hazel poised her pen to write the next word, a terrific banging vibrated on the floorboards above her head. The pounding continued, louder and louder, until pictures rattled on the walls. She jumped as a sepia-toned photo of her and her mother popped off the wall above her, bounced off a mahogany desk, then crashed to the floor and shattered.
    She gasped and thrust her good left hand against her heart as she groped for the door. What would happen next? Hopefully one of the cats hadn’t innocently crept into Eugene’s room, for there was no longer a compassionate veterinary assistant like Catherine in town to aid in the healing of a feline’s crushed head. Hazel felt badly that she hadn’t told Catherine the truth about what happened to poor Cinder that day long ago, or what had happened to her own wrist the next day for that matter. One day, she would remedy that mistake. As soon as this was all over.
    Above, Eugene continued to thrash on the floorboards, and a wail of obscenities could be heard over the pounding. Hazel scurried up the stairway.

 
    Chapter Four
     
    Catherine couldn’t understand why Daniel drove such a dilapidated van if his band was doing so well. He explained that the turquoise monolith, nick-named Bruiser, was like a buddy to him. Even for a van, Bruiser was great on snow and ice, and besides, Daniel had gotten it as a trade-in for a classic guitar ten years ago.
    She studied his profile as he drove through the inky darkness that night, hoping her staring was inconspicuous as they bounced along a rutted country road flanked by evergreens. He was silent, smiling to himself, at peace. The faint glow from the dashboard lights made Daniel’s coppery eyes shine in the dark like new pennies. He must have sensed her staring, for he glanced silently at her, winked, and turned back toward the road.
    Catherine couldn’t remember feeling as full of wonder as she did now, in Daniel’s presence. So many people had skimmed through her life without touching her in any real way – without truly connecting. People she could spend two hours walking down a street with and still feel she was walking alone.
    But everything about Daniel was different.
    Feeling dreamy, her eyes grew heavy. She longed to rest her head on his shoulder, and smiled at the irony of that thought. Two weeks ago the idea of resting her head on anyone’s shoulder would have been unimaginable. Not anymore. Daniel was such a paradox. She thought of the energy and excitement he created on stage, compared to his peaceful, contemplative nature now. But then, maybe he wasn’t such a paradox after all. She’d listened closely to the lyrics he’d written. Some conveyed peace and harmony, others fear and questioning. It was message music, often speaking of God, although the band was not openly promoted as a Christian group. Daniel’s voice was elastic and beautiful. No wonder both Beth and Penny were drawn to him. Catherine herself had spent much of the night standing next to Joey at the soundboard, her eyes glued on Daniel’s overwhelming stage presence.
    After the fight, it’d been a wonder he’d wanted to complete the show at all. Both she and Joey had tried to talk him out of it, but Daniel was stubborn, bruised and battered or not. And so the band had gone on, playing to even louder cheers than before.
    Daniel, as Joey had said, really was an epitome.
    The screaming of brakes yanked Catherine from her slumber. Her eyes snapped open as her seatbelt tightened, sparing her from hitting the windshield. She braced herself as the van spun in a circle in the middle of the road. Shadowy forms of trees, fences, signs…and a vague human form whirled in the headlights. Once…twice…then the forms slowed as the van skidded against a tree trunk with a thud. She gasped and clutched her