Winter Passing Read Online Free PDF Page B

angel’s cloak down to her shoulders.
    Celia’s hand trembled as she reached for the wooden box. For a moment, Darby wondered if this was real, or if perhaps she was still asleep. Even the questions she’d been holding all week vanished while she watched her grandmother search inside the carved box.
    Grandma Celia’s voice again broke the aura of silence in the room. “I haven’t spoken about him in a long time. It was easier for me, and for your mother. She wanted to know him so badly. Even when my hope had died, your mom’s continued. I had told too many stories about her daddy, though eventually her hope was crushed by reality. That’s why I quit speaking of him, since we had to leave him behind. But he’s been locked inside all these years, always near.” Grandma patted her heart.
    A sharp cough interrupted the stillness. Grandma Celia placed a tissue over her mouth, then crumpled it in her bony fist. Her weak smile reappeared. “Perhaps it would have changed if your grandfather and I had been given a life together. We might have become like some couples who have grown old together. But in my mind, he’s still that wonderful man who swept me off my feet. You would have loved him, Darby. You’ve reminded me of him. You both were full of life, laughter, and adventure. Ready to tackle anything that comes along.”
    Darby had never heard her grandmother talk this much about her grandfather, and for some reason, she’d never asked many questions about him. He was long dead sometime during the war, and there was little else she knew. The way her grandmother spoke of him brought such curiosity, and Grandma Celia’s voice had never sounded the way it did now. She seemed to spin memory on her lips, like she tasted each thought, kissed each moment.
    The moonlight touched a tiny object Grandma withdrew from the box. “And here it is.”
    Darby looked closer.
    “It’s too late for the two of us in this life, but there is something that must still be done—” Another cough seized Celia. Darby leaned Celia forward, groping for the water behind her. Grandma’s thin frame jolted into slower coughs until they died away. Darby reached for the tissue over her grandmother’s mouth and offered the glass. Even in what Celia called the magical moonlight, Darby saw bright red splotches on the tissue she tossed into the trash.
    “I want you to have this.” Grandma’s voice was hoarse, her hands shaking.
    “A ring?”
    “Only half a ring. This is the engagement part. The wedding half is gone. Do you see the diamonds on top?”
    Darby saw where, in place of the usual setting, there was another ring of gold with diamonds attached around the rim.
    “Your grandfather designed this ring.” Grandma cleared her throat and sat up a little more. “When joined with the w-wedding half, that circle becomes two small rings locked together, surrounded by lasting treasure.”
    “It’s beautiful,” Darby whispered, looking at her grandmother’s face. She should rest now. But the expression on Grandma’s face, tired and weary though it appeared, held a sense of purpose. “What happened to the other half?”
    Grandma Celia smiled. “So many stories I have told you, my Darby.” Her fingers caressed Darby’s cheek. “Since you were a child, so full of wonder, I have told you my tales. But I kept hidden the real stories because I didn’t want to steal the joy I saw in your eyes. When your mother was a child, I stole many moments from her because I was consumed with my own sorrow. I tried to protect you, but other forces have taken the wonder from your eyes. I see an empty place in you—one I recognize from experience. And you run from it, afraid to face your own heart.”
    Darby stared at her grandmother for a long time. How had the past so quickly turned to focus on Darby’s life? “Grandma, don’t worry about me. I’m happy, very happy.”
    “But you’ve lost your joy. It’s taken years for me to see it. I saw your