Lane and Corey joined me on the veranda, Corey holding a second, freshly opened beer, and Lane carrying a bottle of ginger ale.
“We’ve taken care of your boy,” Corey grinned, passing a grinning Joe the extra bottle. Joe took it with a grin even as Lillian accepted the ginger ale.
“He’s in good hands, then,” Joe answered.
As the four of us sat, I took a look around me, wondering. After so many years of fear and loneliness, it was hard to accept that I was here, surrounded by smiles, sunlight, and contentment. Gramp had been right about one thing, no one could survive without a community. Somehow, though, I’d found one—or, more honestly, one had found me.
The End
www.leonabentley.net
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Upon the River Shore Page 19