Bookends Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Liz Curtis Higgs
summers. Helen was the grandmother he’d never known, the mother he’d always remembered waiting for him when he got home from school.
That idyllic life had ended in his twelfth year, when out of sheer necessity his mother left their home ten hours a day to work.
Not Mom’s fault, Jonas. Not yours, either.
Now his mother was gone, lost to breast cancer seven years ago. That made a woman like Helen Bomberger a gift from heaven. Even he realized a guy never got too old to be mothered on occasion.
He stared into the night, then nodded when he recognized the red coat. It was Helen, all right. Judging by Emilie’s body language, the younger woman wasn’t too pleased with whatever Helen was saying.
Better be nice to her, Dr. Getz.
Jonas tightened his grip on the steering wheel as the elderly woman turned on her heel and started off rather abruptly. If Miss Attitude Problem had said something unkind to a saint like Helen, she’d answer to him for it. His left hand dropped to the door handle, his right to pull the key from the ignition, as he prepared to step in and remedy the situation.
Wait.
Now
what was Emilie doing? She’d slipped her scarf off and was wrapping it around Helen’s head.
Well, I’ll be.
Jonas sank back against the headrest, his hands relaxing again.
Never would’ve pegged her as the compassionate type.
When the two separated, he noticed Emilie wasn’t moving toward a car; she was heading full stride toward Main. On foot? Alone? At night? In the cold?
Not if he could help it.
He shifted the car into drive, then realized he was still blocked in. “Blast!”
At that instant, a laughing couple strolled up, keys dangling from the young woman’s mittened thumb. She waved them in his direction, a look of freckled chagrin on her face. “Sorry, Jonas!”
Beth.
One of the church secretaries.
So much for biting her head off.
They didn’t come any nicer than Beth Landis. Jonas lowered his window and leaned out, striking a threatening pose. “Thought you could get away with this, didn’t you?”
“Sure!” She wrinkled her nose like a playful pixie. “Drew and I knew it was your Explorer. We figured you’d be hanging around the vestibule fighting off female admirers for at least twenty minutes.”
Her husband came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Not tonight, Beth.” Drew Landis, the tall, lanky type, towered over his wife. “He made tracks, or didn’t you notice?”
“Nope. I was too busy helping with the children’s choir.” Her dark blue eyes glowed. “Weren’t they wonderful?”
“Sure were.” Jonas nodded, then looked behind them. “Where’s Sara?”
“Home with a cold and a baby-sitter.” Beth patted her bulging coat pocket. “I sneaked an extra bun for her, though.”
The woman loved kids, no doubt of that. Probably anxious to get home. Flipping on his headlights, he waved at their Nissan and tried to sound gruff. “If you lovebirds don’t mind, I have important business waiting for me.”
“Really?” Beth rolled her eyes. “What’s her name?”
“Bet I know.” Drew’s lazy smile stretched another inch. “It’s that lady of the hour: Carter’s Run.”
“Not the
golf course?
” Beth shook her head, her tawny hair following ahalf beat behind her chin. “Jonas, not on Christmas Eve! Even a workaholic like you needs a night off.”
He shrugged, glad they’d come up with an easy excuse for his quick getaway. “The grand opening is April 9, ready or not.”
Ready, Lord willing.
Jonas revved the engine and flashed them a wide grin. “Merry Christmas, you two. Good to have you in town for a few days, Drew.” Drew’s sales territory for Woodstream Corporation—famous for manufacturing Victor mousetraps, among other things—covered three states, meaning the man was on the road more than he wasn’t. Beth handled it well, but judging by the way she was hanging onto his arm, she was glad to have him home for the holidays.
By the time
That idyllic life had ended in his twelfth year, when out of sheer necessity his mother left their home ten hours a day to work.
Not Mom’s fault, Jonas. Not yours, either.
Now his mother was gone, lost to breast cancer seven years ago. That made a woman like Helen Bomberger a gift from heaven. Even he realized a guy never got too old to be mothered on occasion.
He stared into the night, then nodded when he recognized the red coat. It was Helen, all right. Judging by Emilie’s body language, the younger woman wasn’t too pleased with whatever Helen was saying.
Better be nice to her, Dr. Getz.
Jonas tightened his grip on the steering wheel as the elderly woman turned on her heel and started off rather abruptly. If Miss Attitude Problem had said something unkind to a saint like Helen, she’d answer to him for it. His left hand dropped to the door handle, his right to pull the key from the ignition, as he prepared to step in and remedy the situation.
Wait.
Now
what was Emilie doing? She’d slipped her scarf off and was wrapping it around Helen’s head.
Well, I’ll be.
Jonas sank back against the headrest, his hands relaxing again.
Never would’ve pegged her as the compassionate type.
When the two separated, he noticed Emilie wasn’t moving toward a car; she was heading full stride toward Main. On foot? Alone? At night? In the cold?
Not if he could help it.
He shifted the car into drive, then realized he was still blocked in. “Blast!”
At that instant, a laughing couple strolled up, keys dangling from the young woman’s mittened thumb. She waved them in his direction, a look of freckled chagrin on her face. “Sorry, Jonas!”
Beth.
One of the church secretaries.
So much for biting her head off.
They didn’t come any nicer than Beth Landis. Jonas lowered his window and leaned out, striking a threatening pose. “Thought you could get away with this, didn’t you?”
“Sure!” She wrinkled her nose like a playful pixie. “Drew and I knew it was your Explorer. We figured you’d be hanging around the vestibule fighting off female admirers for at least twenty minutes.”
Her husband came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Not tonight, Beth.” Drew Landis, the tall, lanky type, towered over his wife. “He made tracks, or didn’t you notice?”
“Nope. I was too busy helping with the children’s choir.” Her dark blue eyes glowed. “Weren’t they wonderful?”
“Sure were.” Jonas nodded, then looked behind them. “Where’s Sara?”
“Home with a cold and a baby-sitter.” Beth patted her bulging coat pocket. “I sneaked an extra bun for her, though.”
The woman loved kids, no doubt of that. Probably anxious to get home. Flipping on his headlights, he waved at their Nissan and tried to sound gruff. “If you lovebirds don’t mind, I have important business waiting for me.”
“Really?” Beth rolled her eyes. “What’s her name?”
“Bet I know.” Drew’s lazy smile stretched another inch. “It’s that lady of the hour: Carter’s Run.”
“Not the
golf course?
” Beth shook her head, her tawny hair following ahalf beat behind her chin. “Jonas, not on Christmas Eve! Even a workaholic like you needs a night off.”
He shrugged, glad they’d come up with an easy excuse for his quick getaway. “The grand opening is April 9, ready or not.”
Ready, Lord willing.
Jonas revved the engine and flashed them a wide grin. “Merry Christmas, you two. Good to have you in town for a few days, Drew.” Drew’s sales territory for Woodstream Corporation—famous for manufacturing Victor mousetraps, among other things—covered three states, meaning the man was on the road more than he wasn’t. Beth handled it well, but judging by the way she was hanging onto his arm, she was glad to have him home for the holidays.
By the time