Twelve Months

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Twelve Months Page 25

by Steven Manchester

A hush of agreement rolled over the crowd.

  Michael unfolded a letter. “And now a letter from my father-in-law…something he asked me to deliver on his behalf.”

  The silence grew thicker.

  “To my friends at McKaskies: Thank you for all the laughs. I will miss each of you.”

  Each man bowed his head in respect.

  “To my brother, Joseph: We may not have always seen eye-to-eye, but you are my brother and I have always looked up to you. I have no intentions of stopping now.”

  The paunchy, worn-out thug nodded.

  “To Dewey, my brother – not by blood or heritage, but by choice – I have cherished every minute we shared together. Keep the faith, brother.”

  Dewey’s swollen face lit up with a smile.

  “To my son-in-law, Michael: You are the son I never had and I want to thank you for taking such good care of my daughter and grandchildren. Keep up the good work.”

  Michael stopped for a moment to collect himself and shot his wife a smile.

  “To my daughter, Riley – you are still all the luck I’ll ever need. Know that I am with you, always.

  “To my beautiful grandchildren, Madison and Pudge – make sure you chase your dreams because they do come true. And please don’t be foolish like me and wait until the end of your lives to start enjoying all of the magical moments waiting for you. Follow your hearts, be true to yourselves and know that no matter what paths you choose to take, I am already proud of you.” He paused again. “Oh, and thank you for not peeking into the box, but it’s all yours now.”

  Michael stood erect for one last push.

  “And to the love of my life – thank you for loving me, Bella. I never needed anything more than that; wouldn’t have asked for anything more. My life was blessed because of you. You are the beat of my heart and I will never be without you. Know that each night before you lie down to sleep.”

  With a nod, she looked toward the ceiling and let her tears flow freely.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  At the reception following the funeral, family and friends ate apple pie, shared Don’s many stories and laughed. There couldn’t have been a more fitting celebration for his life.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  When the family returned to the house, Michael fought back his emotions and told Bella, “Dad made me promise to place four things into the inside pocket of his suit coat…the pearl earring, a seashell earring, a white rabbit’s foot and a colored drawing of he, Madison and Pudge.” He shrugged. “He said he’d once promised to take care of the earring, so he’s taking it with him.”

  Bella and Riley looked at each other. Neither had known. They held each other and began to cry.

  Michael then produced his father-in-law’s precious wooden box and turned to his children. “Poppa asked me to give this to you guys.”

  They stepped forward, prepared to receive their long-awaited prize.

  Michael handed them the box. “Here’s the thing your Poppa treasured most in the whole world.” The last few words drifted on emotion.

  Together, they finally opened it. Inside, there was nothing but a stack of photos. Some were instant Polaroids, others were glossy color prints. Madison pulled off the elastic band and started to look through them. The photos dated as far back as her birth. Each one showed one or both of them with Poppa, smiling. A few found them with their arms wrapped around each other. Others caught them laughing. Madison’s head flew up. She looked at her parents and grandmother who were all crying, and then at Pudge. “It was the time we spent together,” she screamed. “That’s what Poppa treasured most…the time we spent with him!”

  Once the sobs subsided and the hugs grew tired, Riley, Michael and the kids bid Bella, “Goodnight,” and promised, “We’ll see you on the weekend.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  It didn’t take long for the silence to set in. It was so sorrowful. Within the hour, Bella decided to clean the house and burn off some of her nervous energy.

  The roar of the vacuum cleaner was keeping her company when she spotted something sticking out from under the radiator. She shut off the vacuum and bent down to reach for it. The puzzle piece was in her hand before she realized what it was. “Oh, Lord,” she said and headed straight for the dining room.

  With a nod, she placed the last piece into the puzzle. “This is for you, hon,” she whispered, “…the picture’s now complete.” And the tears came again – a new wave trying to soothe the incredible love that ached to be near him again.

  About The Author

  Steven Manchester is the author of Pressed Pennies, The Unexpected Storm: The Gulf War Legacy and Jacob Evans, as well as several books under the pseudonym, Steven Herberts. His work has appeared on NBC’s Today Show, CBS’s The Early Show, CNN’s American Morning and BET’s Nightly News. Recently, three of Steven’s short stories were selected “101 Best” for the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. When not spending time with his beautiful wife, Paula, or his four children, this Massachusetts author is promoting his works or writing. Visit: www.StevenManchester.com

  Table of Contents

  Early Praise for Twelve Months

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

 

 

 


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