“What do you mean?” Her heart sank to her stomach, knowing now what she probably knew all along but refused to believe or see. He was truly a spirit. “Ian.” She choked on his name. “I didn't get to say goodbye.” The words came out on a sob.
It isn't goodbye, darlin'. We'll meet again.
The beat of her heart thumped in her ears and her appreciation for life keened. “Not soon, I hope.”
He laughed.
Love him with all that you are, Blossom.
“I will.”
I have to go now.
She could hear the smile in his voice.
You have wonderful stories to share with your grandchildren. Ta, Blossom.
“Ta.” She rubbed the sleeve of her sweater across her eyes wiping away her tears.
"Everything all right?" Whit asked.
"Ian is gone."
"He got called away?"
"Yes," she said, looking up at the waning moon.
From the back, Whit put his arms around her and hugged her close against him.
“We have wonderful stories to tell our grandchildren,” he said.
She laughed. “Ian said the same thing.” She believed them both.
“Let's go inside,” Whit said, breaking into her reverie of red-haired little girls. “You're shivering.”
Arm in arm, they walked into the church basement.
Whit led her into Baleman's lab. “Can I get you anything? Water?”
“I'm good.” She walked to the counter and picked up Hesper's journal laying across the daily newspaper. The front-page photo caught her eye. She gasped.
Whit moved to her side. “What is it?”
She picked up the newspaper and pointed. “This is rubbers guy, the man in your back yard that night. The man who knocked me out.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm sure. Do you know who he is?” she asked, unable to look away from the man's face.
Whit took the paper in his hand. “Our Chief of Police.”
The End
………………………………….
Photo of
"Great-granny Aggie"
of
A Waning Moon
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