Just One More Breath Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Leigha Lewis
lungs and made my heart race. I quickly grabbed a tissue from my bag to catch my tears before they slipped down my cheeks and ruined my makeup.
When I finally calmed down, I placed the jersey back neatly into its place and ran outside to the car. When I opened the car door, Zena gave me a pitiful look. The evidence of my tears was still present in my slightly puffy eyes and red face. I sighed deeply, as we silently pulled away from the curb.
*~*~*~*~*~
Zena and I built The A.R.T Center from the ground up, and it was our pride and joy. We’d worked hard for the last four years trying to make it a success. Many late nights and early mornings were spent trying to get it up and running. I felt really guilty for leaving Zena to run it alone while I was away on bereavement leave, but I just wasn’t in the right headspace to be effective there. Luckily, Zena shared my passion for the center and always insisted that she didn’t mind putting in extra hours and days during my absence.
Zena’s mother had given birth to her when she was fifteen, which is why The A.R.T Center was special to her. Her mother didn’t want the burden of raising a child so Zena was left with her father who couldn’t seem to stay out of jail, and her paternal grandmother, who’d had other issues.
The A.R.T Center’s mission was to educate young girls about abstinence and birth control to aid in avoiding teenage pregnancy altogether. However, in the unfortunate case where it did happen, we wanted to provide them the same support I had received.
We both believed that with the right support system, these girls could obtain a college education and join the workforce. We assisted with college applications, tutors, and job placement. There were also some older women who volunteered babysitting services to the young mothers so they could go to work, attend school, or even have some peace and quiet to do homework and study.
When we entered the front door of The A.R.T Center, I was met by bright smiles from the volunteers and mothers who were inside. One by one they approached me to offer hugs and words of love. I hugged and kissed the girls I knew; all of who were teary-eyed when they saw me. I also introduced myself to the newbies, ensuring them that once I was caught up with work, I would have a meet-and-greet so we could become better acquainted.
When my quick welcome back was complete, I dove headfirst into my work, and to my amazement, it felt really good. Surprisingly, work was a welcomed distraction from the hollowness that had taken up permanent residence in the center of my chest. Throughout the day, there were a few silent moments where I felt overwhelmed with grief, but something always came up to pull me out of the dark hole.
Minutes quickly turned into hours , and before I could get caught up on my pile of emails, Zena knocked on my office door with lunch in hand. I smiled and motioned her inside.
"I took the liberty of ordering us salads ,” Zena said. “It will save us from feeling guilty about all the fried and fatty foods we are going to eat at your welcome back dinner tonight."
My eyebrows arched in confusion. "I'm having a welcome back dinner?"
"Uh . Yeah," Zena replied
I groaned. "Oh Jesus, Zena. I don't need any celebrations. Coming back to work isn’t that big of a deal."
Zena looked at me as if I had three eyes. "Shut up, yes you do. This is a huge deal," Zena insisted. Her words frustrated me.
"That’s exactly what I don't want; this needs to be the smallest deal possible. I just want to quietly attempt to get back to normal, no frills. No celebration.... You know what I mean?"
Zena ignored my words and kept insisting. “Yes, and you will be getting back to life by having dinner here with a few friends later on."
I gave in; I could see that Zena was passionate about the celebration so it made no sense to argue with her. I popped open my salad. "Okay, fine.... Whatever."
Zena beamed , and when I glanced down
When I finally calmed down, I placed the jersey back neatly into its place and ran outside to the car. When I opened the car door, Zena gave me a pitiful look. The evidence of my tears was still present in my slightly puffy eyes and red face. I sighed deeply, as we silently pulled away from the curb.
*~*~*~*~*~
Zena and I built The A.R.T Center from the ground up, and it was our pride and joy. We’d worked hard for the last four years trying to make it a success. Many late nights and early mornings were spent trying to get it up and running. I felt really guilty for leaving Zena to run it alone while I was away on bereavement leave, but I just wasn’t in the right headspace to be effective there. Luckily, Zena shared my passion for the center and always insisted that she didn’t mind putting in extra hours and days during my absence.
Zena’s mother had given birth to her when she was fifteen, which is why The A.R.T Center was special to her. Her mother didn’t want the burden of raising a child so Zena was left with her father who couldn’t seem to stay out of jail, and her paternal grandmother, who’d had other issues.
The A.R.T Center’s mission was to educate young girls about abstinence and birth control to aid in avoiding teenage pregnancy altogether. However, in the unfortunate case where it did happen, we wanted to provide them the same support I had received.
We both believed that with the right support system, these girls could obtain a college education and join the workforce. We assisted with college applications, tutors, and job placement. There were also some older women who volunteered babysitting services to the young mothers so they could go to work, attend school, or even have some peace and quiet to do homework and study.
When we entered the front door of The A.R.T Center, I was met by bright smiles from the volunteers and mothers who were inside. One by one they approached me to offer hugs and words of love. I hugged and kissed the girls I knew; all of who were teary-eyed when they saw me. I also introduced myself to the newbies, ensuring them that once I was caught up with work, I would have a meet-and-greet so we could become better acquainted.
When my quick welcome back was complete, I dove headfirst into my work, and to my amazement, it felt really good. Surprisingly, work was a welcomed distraction from the hollowness that had taken up permanent residence in the center of my chest. Throughout the day, there were a few silent moments where I felt overwhelmed with grief, but something always came up to pull me out of the dark hole.
Minutes quickly turned into hours , and before I could get caught up on my pile of emails, Zena knocked on my office door with lunch in hand. I smiled and motioned her inside.
"I took the liberty of ordering us salads ,” Zena said. “It will save us from feeling guilty about all the fried and fatty foods we are going to eat at your welcome back dinner tonight."
My eyebrows arched in confusion. "I'm having a welcome back dinner?"
"Uh . Yeah," Zena replied
I groaned. "Oh Jesus, Zena. I don't need any celebrations. Coming back to work isn’t that big of a deal."
Zena looked at me as if I had three eyes. "Shut up, yes you do. This is a huge deal," Zena insisted. Her words frustrated me.
"That’s exactly what I don't want; this needs to be the smallest deal possible. I just want to quietly attempt to get back to normal, no frills. No celebration.... You know what I mean?"
Zena ignored my words and kept insisting. “Yes, and you will be getting back to life by having dinner here with a few friends later on."
I gave in; I could see that Zena was passionate about the celebration so it made no sense to argue with her. I popped open my salad. "Okay, fine.... Whatever."
Zena beamed , and when I glanced down