The Color of Heaven Read Online Free PDF Page B

It was a book my mother used to read to
    me – one of the few things I had left of her; the rest of the memories had been packed away and stored in the past.
    o0o
    After Jen left, I discovered how generous and compassionate some people could be. One neighbor in particular, an older lady named Lois who
    lived on my street, came by every few days, always with a plate of something to eat, which was a blessing, for I had very little appetite and no
    interest in cooking. Sometimes she brought a casserole that I could heat up for dinner. Other times she brought homemade cookies, stil warm from
    her oven.
    She sat with me at my kitchen table in the afternoons and talked to me about everything from the weather to the death of her husband ten years
    before. She was an excel ent listener. Whenever I spoke about Megan, she nodded caringly and agreed that she was a beautiful, extraordinary
    child.
    Lois was very kind, and if not for the expectation of her afternoon visits, I probably wouldn’t have gotten dressed most days.
    She was lovely to me, and I wil always cherish her friendship during that difficult first year. Not only did she help me with my grief over Megan, she was there to help me deal with the uncomfortable issues in my crumbling marriage.

Chapter Seventeen
    Six months after the funeral, I came home from the food market one day to find Michael’s BMW parked out front, which was an odd occurrence,
    since he never came home in the afternoons.
    I juggled my grocery bags as I unlocked the front door, and glanced curiously into the living room, then peered into the dining room as wel .
    The house was quiet. It didn’t appear that anyone was home.
    I went to the kitchen, set the bags down on the counter, and cal ed out to him. “Michael, are you home?”
    Stil , no reply.
    I wondered if he had gone out to the backyard. I stepped onto the deck, but there was no sign of him anywhere, so I went back inside. “Michael?”
    Quickly, I climbed the stairs, thinking he might have come home sick, or perhaps something terrible had happened.
    My heart began to pound as I put one foot in front of the other, and a heavy knot of dread tightened in my bel y. This was not unusual. I’d been
    experiencing bouts of anxiety since Megan’s death, always fearing the worst in any situation...
    When I reached the top of the stairs, I found our bedroom empty, but Megan’s door wide open, which was definitely unusual, for Michael insisted we keep it closed.
    He didn’t want to go in there. He didn’t want to look at Megan’s things, or smel the familiar scent of her that stil lingered. He didn’t want to be reminded.
    A part of me understood this on some level, but another part of me did not. Sometimes when I missed Megan, and the longing became unbearable,
    I would go to her room and sit on her bed. I would leaf through her books, run a hand over her stuffed animals. Then I might lie down for a while and imagine her lying beside me.
    I felt her presence al around me. She would place her tiny, warm hand on my cheek, as she had done so many times in our life together, and tel me
    that everything was going to be okay. “I’m better now, Mommy,” she would say. I took great comfort from those daydreams.
    Michael didn’t understand it at al . He believed I was only making it harder on myself. He told me that she was gone, and we had to put it behind us.
    We had to focus on the future.
    Perhaps that’s why I was so unnerved by the sight of her open door. Would I find my unshakable husband lying on the bed as I so often did? Would I
    find him weeping?
    I braced myself as I made my way down the narrow hal .
    o0o
    Michael turned and looked at me with hostility as I entered. “I thought I told you to keep this door shut.”
    I was baffled by his anger. It wasn’t what I had expected.
    “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten. What are you doing home so early?”
    “I had to change my tie,” he said. “I spil ed something on it at lunch.” He