Time to Love Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

Emma's profile.
    She turned onto Ridgewood Drive . Tears filled her eyes and forced her to pull into a parking lot. She slammed her fist on the steering wheel and tried to hold back the tears. Finally, she let loose and cried. She didn't know how long she sat there before she regained her composure.
    What was wrong with her this year? Feelings of melancholy weren't new, but this year was as bad, or worse, than the first year Frank died. She missed him more each year.
    And Emma's voice, where had it come from? No matter how she tried, she couldn't get rid of it. Emma had always yelled at her about feeling sorry for herself after Frank died.
    "Get on with life, Rose," she used to say. "You're a young woman. Crawl out of that shell."
    It was easy for Emma to say– she still had her husband. He came home from work every night. They ate together, slept together. No, Emma didn't understand.
    The days weren't too bad. Rose handled them. But those nights. Those long, lonely, sleepless nights became almost unbearable. That's when she missed Frank the most. That's what Emma didn't understand.
    "You still have to live," Emma argued when she tried to explain. "Locking yourself away isn't going to bring Frank back."
    Okay, Emma was right. Nothing would bring Frank back. That didn't change the feelings. Didn't stop the pain. She had even tried to socialize, but she hated the sympathetic, yet distrusting, looks from the other women. And the men, most of them shied away from her. Afraid of their wives, most likely. Wimps! Like she wanted any of them? She laughed out loud. Not one of them could hold a candle to Frank.
    Stephen on the other hand, well, maybe he could. Damn it, what made her think of him? She shook her head, tried to clear his vision from her mind. She didn't want to think about him.
    "Why not think about him, Rose? He's alive and so are you," Emma's voice intruded on her thoughts. "Are you afraid you're being disloyal to Frank?"
    Was that it? Rose wondered. Did she think she was being unfaithful? Was she afraid to let go of Frank? Of his memory?
    She thought back to the year Frank died. She had put up her tree and decorations that year. Had even stood on the ladder and put the lights on the house outside. It wasn't easy, but she managed. Then the kids moved away and couldn't come home, none of it made sense. After Emma died everything seemed worthless. Just a lot of work for nothing. No one missed the decorations. No one really cared.
    "No one but you," Emma said.
    True, she did miss them but that was an awful lot of work for just her.
    "Sure, but the neighbors enjoyed them."
    "Then let the neighbors put them up." Damn that woman infuriated her. Always knew how to push the right buttons.
    Rose looked around the parking lot. Louise lived only two streets away. She picked up her cell phone and made a quick call.
    "Louise, are you busy? I'm in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop in if that's okay."
    "Of course, Rose. You know you're always welcome."
    A few minutes later, Rose turned onto Regency Drive and parked on the street. She walked up the drive.
      Louise had gone all out this year. White lights sparkled in all the bushes and lined the long drive. Spot lights lit up a nativity set on one side of the yard and on the other side Santa with a sleigh full of packages and eight reindeer sat in front of Santa's workshop. They must be new. Rose didn't remember seeing them before.
    Louise met her at the door.
    "Rose, what's wrong?" Louise hugged her and planted a kiss on each of her cheek.
    Rose looked at her friend. The woman never changed. In all the years they knew each other, Louise looked the same as the day they met. She hadn't aged a bit. Blond hair, not a strand out of place, and immaculate make-up, as usual. Her blue eyes radiated happiness.
    Louise's life was full with husband, kids and grandkids. Yet, she always made time for friends and volunteer work. Rose envied her.
    Everyone could count on Louise. Always the first