Free Glass by Suzanne D. Williams Page A

“Yes.”
    “Delbert the Third’s wife. She was an odd sort, used to wander the halls and peek in the guests’ rooms. More than one awakened with her hovering over the bed.”
    He clenched his teeth tight to prevent the contents of his stomach from rising and hast ily left the room. The door slammed shut.
    Osiris motioned the way down the path through flowers hanging water-heavy heads over the soggy soil and a bird bath overflowing with rain to the same trail they’d walked up only the day before. One day. Had it been only one day? It felt like a lifetime.
    He stumbled ahead, his heart filling his chest. He hadn’t counted on this, hadn’t thought he’d have to leave so suddenly. He’d planned it out, what he’d say to her, what comfort he’d give, and yet as everything here had been so unexpected, this was no different. The ground sloped downward and gravity pulled him faster toward the cypress swamp.
    He took another step, and another, and another, emotion warring in his soul, at the edge of the trees, pulling to a halt. He spun around and strained his gaze for the house. This was wrong. He’d promised her. He made to return, but Osiris hand landed on his arm.
    He shook his head then jerked his chin to the left.
    Andre looked in the indica ted direction and there, her hand on the trunk of a tree, stood Cerise. She squeaked and dashed across the space, landing in his arms. He wrapped her tight.
    “I thought you were avoiding me,” he said.
    Her tears dampened his collar and her hair clung to his cheek. Her hair. He gazed down at her. She had it down. He pushed her back and gripped her face.
    “I didn’t want to say goodbye,” she said. “I thought … thought I could walk away, but I can’t. I want what my mother never had, whatever this is. Destiny. Fate. God. I want to be strong like you and move past what happened to fall in love with a man I think all of heaven has ordained. But I can’t leave yet.”
    He gulped. “I know.”
    “She’s old and ill and hateful, but she’s all I’ve got. I have to figure some things out first.”
    He couldn’t speak for the words caught in his throat.
    “I have to come to the mainland in about three weeks – to see my mother. You said if I did …”
    Hope pooled in her voice, and he lowered his mouth to hers, a gentle caress, an exchange of hearts. “Come find me,” he said. “I’ll be there waiting.”
    She pressed herself against him.
    “It won’t be like the last time. I’m not going to walk away from you,” he said. She had to know that, had to believe it.
    Her hand aro und his waist, she wadded his shirt her fist. “I want to believe,” she said.
    He breathed in the scent of her hair and memorized the fit of their bodies together. “There is a Bible in the library,” he replied. “Start with the book of John. Read every day if you can. Will you do that?”
    She bobbed her head, her cheek scrubbing against his shirt. “Yes.”
    “We must go.” Osiris spoke from the side.
    Andre raised his gaze then switched it to her face. She pulled away, but only a space, and straightened. “Until next time, Mr. Garner.”
    He smiled. “Until next time, Cerise.”
    His steps away from her were painful, but threaded with promise. In the heat of the moment, he’d almost forgotten where the true power was. With God. If God brought them together, then God would resolve the rest of it. He had to lean on Him and believe that, regardless of the circumstances.
    The sun on the water promised to make the ride to the mainland far different from the one twenty-four hours ago. He removed his jacket and tossed it over his arm. Stepping in, he took the same seat he’d held before. Osiris took his position and cranked the old boat, then backed away from the shore.
    It all receded, the swamp, the house, and the memories he hadn’t had until coming here. He curled his hands into his palms and whispered a prayer for Cerise.
    And a new idea came to him. Staring at the