advance praise for three shoeboxes:
“In Three Shoeboxes, Steven Manchester chronicles a seemingly strong marriage and loving family that suddenly begins to crack and fragment under the weight of guilt and old secrets. It’s psychologically accurate, well-plotted, and a sensitive, honest portrayal of what it’s like to have a long-buried past finally surface, and what that reckoning does to everyone involved.”
– Mark Sullivan, #1 New York Times bestselling author, Beneath a Scarlet Sky
“Raw, moving, and brutally honest—Steven Manchester takes you on an emotional rollercoaster. Grab your tissues for this heart-wrenching story—better yet, grab a box full!”
– Tanya Anne Crosby, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, The Girl Who Stayed
“Three Shoeboxes is a compassionate, accessible portrait of a vitally important topic, PTSD, how it affects the sufferer and the family—and how to find hope and healing.”
– Jenna Blum, New York Times and international bestselling author, Those Who Save Us and Storm Chasers
“Three Shoeboxes will linger in your thoughts long after that last page. Steven Manchester has brilliantly woven a story that will touch your heart, twist your emotions, and remind you why he is easily one of your favorite authors.”
– Steena Holmes, New York Times and international bestselling author, Emma’s Secret: A Novel
“Steven Manchester is a master author of human emotion. You will come away from his tales having been fully engulfed in his fictional world and also having learned something about yourself.”
– Heather Froeschl, reviewer, BookReview.com
“Grab the Kleenex. You’ll need them handy. Three Shoeboxes starts off on an incredibly honest picture of the downward, spiraling effect that post-traumatic stress, anxiety attacks, and depression can have on a man’s life. To get the details so vividly accurate, I would assume that Steven has had first-hand experience with these disabling conditions. Amazing!”
– Tracy Farnsworth, Editor, Roundtable Reviews
“Author Steven Manchester has a way of using his gift of words to remind us of our own humanity and the simple truth that people in pain can hurt others in ways we don’t always consider. Three Shoeboxes is a novel that shows that, no matter who we are, we have a connection to each other that can bring out the best and worst in us. This is why we have to work so hard to show up for each other at all costs. Three Shoeboxes is the kind of heartfelt reminder we all need.”
– Cyrus Webb, media personality/Amazon Top 500 Reviewer
“Three Shoeboxes is a story of a husband and father who, due to things he doesn’t quite understand himself, loses everything: his wife, his children, his job, and, worst of all, himself. However, the story doesn’t stop there. It is a story of love and faith, as well. After losing his family and realizing just how low he has fallen, Mac sets about rebuilding his life and regaining at least part of his family the very best he can. This story is another testament to Steve Manchester’s skill as a writer.”
– Carol Castellanos, reviewer, Midnight Reviews
“Three Shoeboxes by Steven Manchester is probably the best of his works thus far! As I read, I could sense the love of one father for his children. Though Mac had a loving relationship with his wife and three children, everything seemed to fall apart at once. But through the author’s wonderful pen, he shows the reader just how this man’s faith restores it all.”
– Noonie Fortin, 1SG, USAR (Ret), Author, Colonel Maggie
“Three Shoeboxes is Steven Manchester’s most powerful work to date. He doesn’t pull any punches in this brutally honest story about a man suffering from PTSD. His protagonist doesn’t understand what triggered his recent panic attacks, but they’re violent enough to cause him, a successful man with a perfect marriage, a great job, and three beautiful kids, to descend into alcoholism. And to lose everything he holds dear. The author digs deep and shares raw, terrifying emotion. His protagonist spins out of control and winds up in a dirty motel room with a pistol pressed against his temple. This is terrific writing. Manchester’s protagonist’s life becomes nightmarish, his rage palpable, and his ultimate redemption breathtaking. It was enough to bring this reader to tears.”
– John Lansing, #1 bestselling author, The Devil’s Necktie
“Throughout Three Shoeboxes, Manchester guides the reader on an inspirational and emotional journey. Weaving a story around serious topics such as PTSD and losing a spouse, this story is hard to put down. Three Shoeboxes immediately captures your attention—and holds on to it—long after you’ve finished the last page. Manchester’s work is addicting. He’s mastered the art of involving his readers and pulling at their heartstrings until they laugh, cry, or both.”
– Kim Wilson, co-author/co-editor, Living Miracles: Stories of Hope from Parents of Premature Babies
“At a time when such topics as family, love and old-fashioned human kindness have become taboo, along comes a story that threatens to turn the world on its cold, deaf ear. If Three Shoeboxes does not bring you to tears, I’m not sure anything will.”
– Russell N. McCarthy, Esq., C.F.O., Rising Tide Entertainment, Inc.
three shoeboxes
steven manchester
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
The Story Plant
Studio Digital CT, LLC
P.O. Box 4331
Stamford, CT 06907
Copyright © 2018 by Steven Manchester
Story Plant Paperback ISBN-13 978-1-61188-260-5
Fiction Studio Books e-book ISBN-13: 978-1-945839-19-1
Visit our website at www.TheStoryPlant.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever, except as provided by US Copyright Law. For information, address The Story Plant.
First Story Plant Paperback Printing: June 2018
Printed in The United States of America
For my children
“How can someone take something from you
when it lives in your heart?”
– Dr. Faust Fiore
chapter 1
It was their fifteen-year wedding anniversary. Fifteen years, MacKenzie Anderson thought, feeling the weight of the special occasion. I should’ve waited until this year to give Jen the diamond bracelet, he thought, cursing himself for his premature decision the year before. I’m going to be making payments for the next couple of years anyway.
In the hopes of being creative or original, MacKenzie—Mac, as most people called him—abandoned his mind and ventured into his heart, where he hoped the answer to his dilemma could be found. It didn’t take long for the only obvious choice to hit him. I got it! he thought. Rather than the usual material token, I’ll give Jen a peek into the future. For our fifteen-year wedding anniversary, I’ll give her a promise. His mind raced for more details. I’ll also fill a box with… He nodded, a smile filling his handsome face. I know exactly what to do.
⧝
Mac awoke earlier than Jen, as he had for the better part of a decade and a half. Sitting up, he took the few precious moments needed to confirm how much he really loved her. Though he’d memorized it years ago, he studied the soft contours of his wife’s face framed by a full head of chocolate locks. Working his way down, he focused on her full lips.
She smiled; it was the slightest grin, but enough to steal away his yawn. He inhaled deeply. Her smell was so sweet, so distinct. I’d recognize it in either heaven or hell, he decided. She stirred once, and again, before struggling to open her eyelids and reveal a pair of light hazel eyes that sparkled with life. Mac never budged; he was inches from her face when her senses registered his presence. “Happy anniversary, beautiful,” he whispered.
With a low purr, Jen pulled him to her. They hugged for a long while. “I love you,” she finally breathed into his ear.
He squeezed her tighter. After all these years, he thought, she still owns my heart.
While she lay in a mountain of warm cotton blankets, he dressed for work. “I’m really sorry I have to work late on our anniversary,” he told her.
“Will you stop apologizing,” she said. “I told you, I understand.”
He nodded. “I promise, we’ll celebrate next weekend. We’ll get a babysitter and go out.”
She smiled, kissed him again and watched him hurry out the door.
⧝
Unlocking the car door, Mac slid behind the steering wheel and looked back at the house. What a trooper, he thought, pretending it doesn’t bother her. But she was disappointed and he knew it. After being together for so long, even the best acting wouldn’t have fooled either of them. Wait until she finds out what I’ve got planned for tonight, he thought chuckling. He looked back at the house again, unsure about the last time he’d been this excited to go out on a date.
⧝
“Stay out of my stuff,” Bella yelled at her little brother, her screech traveling down the stairs from her bedroom.
“I wasn’t in your stuff, Beans,” Brady yelled back.
Jen shook her head. Now there’s a lie, she thought. As she went about her normal morning routine—primarily cleaning up after the three hurricanes she called Jillian, Bella and Brady—she spotted a young man dawdling around the front of her house. Back-stepping into the shadows, she watched the kid for a moment from the living room window. Carrying a long white box, he was clearly searching for a specific house number. And he looked more stressed than anyone his age should have been. He’s making a delivery, Jen decided, smiling, from Mac. The boy finally confirmed the address and rang the Anderson’s doorbell. Jen answered the door.
“A delivery for Mrs. Anderson,” the kid said.
“That’s me,” Jen said, signing for the package and giving him a well-deserved tip. “Thank you.”
He half-nodded before sprinting away.
Cradling the white box in her arms, she watched him with amusement. I wish my kids had something they took that seriously. She closed the front door and slid the bow from the box. It was a lovely bouquet of long-stemmed roses, fifteen in all. One for each year, she thought. She’d told Mac, “No flowers this year. We can use the money elsewhere.” But she’d never been so happy he’d ignored her wishes. She plucked the card free and read, “Thank you for fifteen great years, three beautiful children and one incredible life.” There’s the man I fell in love with, she thought, her smile lasting until the moment her thoughtful husband returned home.
Both of Mac’s feet weren’t in the house when he announced. “We have dinner reservations tonight.” He winked at her. “And you have a half hour to get ready.”
She hugged him. “I love you,” she said, “but a half hour?”
He laughed. “Hurry,” he said, patting her on the backside. “It’s all arranged. I’m bringing the kids to your sister’s so we have all night.” He smiled.
All night, she repeated in her head. Now that’s something different.
⧝
It was just past twilight when they pulled up to D’Avios, a fancy restaurant located at the bottom of the posh Biltmore Hotel in Providence. The young valet attendant opened Jen’s door. In one swift motion, he caught Mac’s keys, along with a promise for a good tip.
“I’ll get you on the way out,” Mac said, grabbing his wife’s hand to escort her into the restaurant.
Jen tucked a wrapped present under her other arm, surveying her husband’s free hand. He must have gotten me something small enough to put in his pocket, she figured.
⧝
The ambiance was perfect, the service reached beyond doting, yet neither of these could compare to the meal. The filet mignon swimming in béarnaise sauce melted like ice cream in July.
“Surprised?” he asked, grabbing for her hand.
“I actually am this time,” she admitted. After so many failed attempts at keeping a secret, she was impressed her husband hadn’t leaked a word—especially to the kids, she thought. “Thank you.”
A pink hue spread evenly across his boyish face. “You’re welcome.”
Jen studied her husband, wondering, How did I ever get so lucky? Beyond his dark hair and penetrating eyes, he was the definition of a devoted husband and father who considered spending time with his three children a favorite pastime. And he’d worked hard for years, finally reaching a point in his life—at thirty-eight—when he could start breathing easier. “How’s work?” she asked.
“Ross just assigned us a pretty big project,” he said and stopped. “But I don’t want to talk about work tonight.”
What about talking about me returning to work then? she asked in her head. “The kids then?” she teased.
“Nope,” he said. “I couldn’t love them any more than I do, but even they can survive without our attention for the next few hours.”
She was taken aback. With all our day-to-day responsibilities, I can’t remember the last time we shared a night like this, she thought, her chest feeling warm.
They’d just ordered coffee and dessert when the pianist stopped playing and made an announcement. “I’d like to ask everyone to join me in wishing Mr. and Mrs. Mac Anderson a happy anniversary. Fifteen years ago today, they took each other as man and wife, and we’re honored to have them celebrating with us tonight.”
There was a buzz of polite applause.
Stunned, Jen looked across the table to catch the blush of a little boy paint her considerate husband’s face again. Before she could say a word, the pianist broke into his next song—their wedding song. Her chest filled with emotion, causing her eyes to swell. “Thank you, Mac,” she whispered past the lump in her throat. “I…”
He leaned across the table and grabbed her hand, interrupting her. “Happy anniversary, babe,” he said.
For whatever reason, she expected him to reach into his pocket and pull out his annual token of love. He didn’t, so she grabbed the wrapped present from the empty chair beside her and handed it over to him. “This gift is the one thing that means more to me than anything else in the whole world,” she told him, her eyes swelling more.
While the pianist filled the room with a nostalgic melody, Mac tore through the wrapping. In one magical moment, he reached the prize. It was a framed photo of them and the kids—Jillian, Bella and Brady. “Our family,” he gasped.
Before he could react any further, she hurried over to kiss him.
“God, do I love you,” he said.
“And I love you too,” she said, hugging him tight and ignoring a room full of stares.
“So, I get another fifteen years then?” he asked.
She never answered. Their shared embrace said it all.
After a few moments, he pushed her away to look into her eyes. “You’re not going to ask me where your present is?” he asked, smiling.
She half-shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it,” she fibbed.
He laughed. “I’ll give it to you at home. It was too big to bring here.”
“Oh, I bet it was,” she said, giggling.
He laughed again, quickly raising his hand to call for the check.
⧝
As they stepped out of the restaurant, Mac stopped short on the sidewalk a
nd turned to face her. “Hey,” he whispered.
“Yeah?” she said, stepping into his arms.
“I really love you, you know.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” he asked. Her lips parted to reply when he pulled her even closer. “I mean it,” he said. “I love you, Jen.”
She felt overwhelmed by this genuine display of affection. She knew this proclamation went far beyond the three words they exchanged each day—a nice little habit they’d established from the beginning. This was intended as a confirmation of all they were—and will be forever. It was as though they were young again and he’d professed his love for the first time—sincere and unashamed.
She grabbed his face in both her hands and considered all they’d been through together. They began as any first love—filled with innocence and thrills—before life eventually ushered in reality. Back then, our romance was so intense, burning as brightly as the sun, she thought, and twenty-four hours in a day wasn’t nearly enough time to be together. “I know,” she told him, “and I love you more today than ever before, more than I have the words to describe.” A ball of raw emotion choked her.
He kissed her long and hard. “I do,” he said.
“What?” she asked.
“I still do,” he repeated with a smile. “After fifteen years, I promise to take you as my wife in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health—all of it. I want you, no, I need you as my wife for the next fifteen years and the rest of my life after that.”
She kissed him back, matching his fervent passion for her. “I still do, too,” she vowed, feeling like she was being reborn.
When they reached the car, she turned to him. “There’s no way you’re ever going to top this one,” she said, grinning. It was the best memory she’d ever been given. “So, what’s the big gift waiting for me at home?”
He winked. “The consummation,” he said.
⧝
After gazing at his beautiful wife, Mac looked up and slammed on the brakes. The car in front of them had stopped short. “Jackass!” he barked, his heart racing.
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