A Chance of a Lifetime Read Online Free PDF Page B

he’d made it to the street, J’Myel was sliding out to meet him. They’d made snowmen and snow caves, ambushed other neighborhood kids with well-aimed snowballs, and tried to leave no patch of white untouched before frozen feet or hunger drove them back inside.
    Good times, J’Myel had always said when they reminisced about childhood stuff. He’d accompanied the words with an ear-to-ear grin.
    Calvin’s chest grew tight, his next few breaths hard to pull out. His fingers gripped the coffee mug so tightly that the tips turned pale, and a strangled sound escaped his throat before he clamped down hard on it. He wanted some good times again, God help him, he did. Because he couldn’t go on like this forever.
    *  *  *
    In the twenty years Bennie had lived with Mama Maudene, she could count on one hand the number of times they’d missed church on Sunday morning that weren’t weather related: three trips back home to South Carolina to visit family and the two Sundays following J’Myel’s death. It averaged out to once every four years, not a bad record. She knew a few pastors who couldn’t claim such diligent attendance.
    This cold bright morning, she dressed in fleece pants, an OU Sooners sweatshirt, and fuzzy house shoes over woolen socks. The shirt actually belonged to Mama, a gift from one of her numerous nieces, but being an unwavering OSU Cowboys fan, Mama had passed the shirt on to Bennie. Someone should get some use from it, she’d declared, but it wasn’t going to be her. Cold-natured Bennie couldn’t care less what logo was on the front as long as it kept her warm.
    The instant she opened the bedroom door, she smelled coffee and cinnamon rolls. Good for her soul, not so much for her hips. “Morning, Mama,” she greeted when she shuffled into the kitchen. “Isn’t it beautiful outside?”
    “It would be more beautiful if our yellow grass was showing.” Mama handed her a cup of coffee, fresh from the Keurig.
    Bennie blew gently across the top of the mug. “Smells wonderful. What is it today?”
    “A Salvadoran medium-roast with notes of almond, honeysuckle, and pipe tobacco.” Mama’s smile wreathed her face. “Listen to me. I’ve become a coffee connoisseur. Oh, and the packaging is ninety-seven percent recyclable. Saving the world one K-cup at a time.”
    The aroma alone was enough to make Bennie happy she’d gotten out of bed. Settling at the table, she tested it with a tiny sip, and when it didn’t scald her tongue, she took a larger drink, then mmm-ed her appreciation. Since Mama had discovered Internet shopping, they hadn’t had a single cup of regular old supermarket coffee, and Bennie, for one, was grateful.
    “I’m trying a new recipe today,” Mama said from the stove. “Hashbrown potatoes, onions, peppers, eggs, cheese, and chorizo. That’s Mexican sausage. While it finishes up in the oven, why don’t you see if the newspaper boy managed to get through this morning.”
    Obediently, Bennie went to the front door, opening it to an ice-covered world. Though it was thirty degrees south of bearable, the air wasn’t as frigid as she’d expected. With any luck, most of this mess would be gone tomorrow and she’d never, ever see sleet again. She crossed two fingers on both hands and squeezed her eyes shut, making a wish of the thought, then bent to pick up the paper in its plastic sleeve.
    The newspaper boy, a retired rural mail carrier, had indeed made it. He was as reliable as the sun coming up every morning. His secret, he claimed, was his seventies-era Volkswagen Beetle. Where other cars gave up, ol’ Bess just kept on chugging, and if she slid into a ditch or a fence post, well, what was another ding?
    Bennie was about to close the storm door when she stopped, her gaze traveling across and down the street. The Sweet home was barely visible through the ice-laden tree branches, a tidy place set back from the road. Justice would have already gone to the small cabin on the other