Into the Fire

I guess it's my book week this week. Here's a part of Chapter Thirteen of Sweet Release.

     Millie unlocked the door to Eric’s condominium and took a deep breath before walking inside. The place was immaculate. Obviously, he’d used a cleaning service. She’d collected his mail from the condominium manager’s office before coming upstairs and reminded herself to contact the post office. 

     “I always liked Eric’s taste,” Bill said, his tone somber.

     Millie smiled as she realized much of the furnishing was the style of things they’d looked at in magazines in the first two years of their marriage. She looked around the living room of the large condo and felt like a stranger.

     “Are you alright?” Bill came up beside her and gently touched her arm.

     “It is a little strange. I feel like an intruder,” she admitted.

     “Well, I don’t know if it’s any help, but I know Eric would’ve wanted you here,” he offered.

     “Thank you. It’s just hard to believe, you know? That he would’ve. I have to remember his letter to allow those feelings to sink in. But, yes, according to the way he was, you’re right.” She tried to smile.

     “Uh—what can I do?  I’ll bring the boxes up, and maybe we can start in the . . .”

     “The bedroom, Bill. Let’s do the hard part first. Okay?”

     “Whatever you want, Mil. I’ll go get the boxes.”

     Millie went into the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs set up at the kitchen island. I’m here, Eric. And I’m feeling so weird. I’ll do this the best I can, but I wasn’t a part of this life. Yet I don’t know how to do it without feeling like I was somehow attached—maybe estranged, you know, like on the outside looking in. Sometimes it all seems unreal. Our life. Your death. Everything.

     Millie got down from the chair and walked further into the kitchen, opening a cupboard and staring at the glassware. Lord, I don’t know if I can do this.

     You need me, Millie. You can do nothing in your own strength. This isn’t easy, but it will complete your release. Let me be near, Millie. I am your Savior.

     Millie closed the cupboard. She was shaking. Thank you, Lord.

     Bill walked in with several boxes piled high in his arms.  He took them directly to Eric’s bedroom. Millie followed him into the room. She jolted when she saw her framed high school senior picture on his bedside table. A blush followed as Bill walked over and picked it up and smiled.

     “Who’s this gorgeous young lady?” he teased.

     “One of Eric’s many girlfriends,” she quipped.

     “The one who mattered most,” he said to her as he set the picture down.

     “Thank you,” she whispered as the tears came and fell down her cheeks.

     Instinctively, Bill walked over to her and took her in his arms just as he had when they’d learned of Eric’s death. Millie allowed herself the comfort of his arms as she quietly sobbed. Then she gently pulled away.

     “I just don’t understand why this is so hard for me,” she said, wiping her eyes with her fingers. 

     “Because you loved him. Because he deeply hurt you. And when you can’t let go of the love, it’s hard to let go of the hurt as well,” he explained kindly.

     “Well, it’s time I did,” she said resolutely. “After all, he’s happy now. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t find peace in that and go on with our lives. Right? Isn’t that what God intended for us who stay here, Bill?”

     “That’s correct,” he agreed, his voice quiet.

     For a minute she was silent as she surveyed the room. “Well, I want to, Bill. I want to live my life now. This part of my life died with Eric. It’s time I started over.”

     Ask.

     Bill knew the voice only too well. He hesitated, and it must have shown on his face.

     “What?” Millie asked with concern.

     “Uh, does the word ‘released’ mean anything special to you?” His awkwardness had to show.

     The blush seemed to work its way up from her very toes leaving a heated trail all the way up her body, causing her cheeks to feel the red flame.

     “Why?” Her voice shook.

     “Honestly?” His embarrassment evident.

     “What do you think?”

     He took an obvious deep breath. “Alright, Mil. I was praying, okay? I was having one of my sessions with the Lord where He allows me to yell and act stupid and then he gives me advice or comfort or instruction or a stern rebuke. This particular time he spoke to me about my personal desires, and he gave me a word. The word was ‘released’. He told me to go ask what this word was about—He said I’d know who and when to ask. Just now, He told me to ask, so I did.” He looked away when he finished, but then he looked directly into Millie’s eyes and found the recognition of the Lord’s participation in this moment. “Can you tell me what this is about?”

     “I could, but—” 

     “But what?” He reached and put her hands in his.

     “I don’t know if you’ll want to hear it.”

     “I can guarantee I want to hear it.”

     “Can we go out there and sit down for a minute? How ‘bout the kitchen? I’m thirsty,” she said.

     He gestured with his arm for her to lead the way.

     She pulled two glasses from the cupboard she’d previously opened and held one up for his approval. He nodded. She walked over to the refrigerator, used the icemaker to fill the glasses before getting water. She handed him a glass of water and they sat down at the counter. He waited for her to speak.

     “Wouldn’t you think at almost 47 years of age things wouldn’t be scary anymore? I mean things between adults—normal things?” She floundered. 

     He waited.

     “Well, I wish they were!”

     He smiled. “Millie, just tell me what you mean. You can talk to me. I’ll listen. Honest.”

     She heaved a sigh and assigned herself to the task. She got up and walked over near the sink, he studying her body language which finally declared her resolve.

     “Okay then. Here’s how it is.” She set the glass of water on the counter and leaned back folding her arms across her chest. “The last part of Eric’s letter to me dealt with the possibility of him leaving this earth.” She looked down at the expensive tile floor and dared a quick glance at the pastor who was leaning over the counter intently listening to her. “He said he wanted me to be free to love again. He said he knew I didn’t need him to tell me that, but even so he gave me his ‘release’ to love again. He said I deserved some happiness in this life. Then at church after the service right after you checked with me and told me you’d be a few minutes, I heard as clearly as I’ve ever heard anything the word ‘released’, and I knew it was the Lord’s voice.” Her voice near a whisper. “I went outside to get some fresh air because, quite frankly, the experience made me light-headed. When I got out there and looked back inside, I saw your eyes looking out at me. Then when we went to lunch, I had the best time since I can’t remember when, Bill. And I was looking so forward to today, trying to kid myself that I wasn’t excited about seeing you again this soon. Alright? That’s what ‘released’ means to me.” She took a drink of water and looked over at him. “Now it’s your turn.”

     The pastor laughed.  “You aren’t going to let me slide, are you?”

     “Not on your life.” And she managed a smile.

     “Alright then.” He folded his hands on the counter, sitting up a little straighter on the stool. “If you must know, I was yelling at God because I considered myself to be a despicable man. I told him my best friend was barely in the ground and I was having designs on his wife. I told him I thought I should have a little happiness—and then I folded like a $2 watch—and rebuked myself for thinking I deserved any shot at anything good. Basically he told me I couldn’t hide the desires of my heart from Him and that it wasn’t good for man to be alone. Then he gave me the word ‘released’ with the instructions I told you about earlier.” He paused. “That’s a fairly accurate account of what took place in my study late last night.”

     “Ex-wife,” Millie said quietly.

     “That may be, Mil, but I can’t deny how much he loved you,” he said just as quietly.  “And I can certainly understand why.”

     Without warning the tears erupted again. Bill got off the chair and walked over to her, once again taking her in his arms to comfort her. Only this time she slowly put her arms around him. After a moment, he gently took her face in his hands and gazed into her tearful eyes. Tenderly he reached down and kissed her lips. 

     “I’m falling hard for you, Mil, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before,” he admitted, his voice quiet but deliberate. “I can’t pretend I’m not.”

     “I don’t want you to pretend,” she said, trying not to hold her breath.

     “Life is short, Mil. I’m not one for wasting time. I need to know what you’re feeling, what the Lord is telling you, how CM might react to this—I need to know if there are obstacles between us.”

     “None that I know of—other than fear, I guess.”

     “Fear is not of God, Mil. I know that much. Fear keeps us from taking the risks that faith produces. You said it yourself in so many words—shouldn’t things at our age be easier? Well, they can be. We can be straight with one another right off the bat. Tell me what you’re afraid of, Millie. See if I can’t put you at peace. We’ll pray about everything we’re experiencing. Together and separately.” He couldn’t help himself—he reached down and kissed her again.

     The sensation of being kissed by this man reminded her of being a teenager again— the pounding heart, the goosebumps, the weak knees, the sheer physical pleasure surprised her. But what surprised her more than all of it was the way she responded to him—she leaned into his kiss and held onto him, and she discovered just how much she wanted more of him.

     “Whoa,” he said finally. “Whoa. I’ve never felt like this, Mil. My Lord,” he said, stepping back from her. “I’ve never been tested like that in my entire life.”

     She couldn’t help herself—she giggled.

     “What’s so funny?” he laughed, trying to compose himself, putting his hands at his waist.

     “It’s totally bad,” she said, but she started laughing a little harder.

     “Are you going to tell me or what?” He smiled at her glee.

     “I’m kissing you in Eric’s apartment. It’s kind of ironic—that’s all,” and she laughed even harder. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to get even or anything—it’s nothing like that. In fact, when you kissed me, I forgot where I was altogether. I’m sorry—sick sense of humor, I guess,” she said with embarrassment. 

     “Poetic justice—is that what you’re saying?” and he smiled over at her.

     “In a way.” She grinned.

     He walked back close to her. “Did you really forget where you were?” he asked, gently gripping her arms.

     “Altogether,” she said, reaching up to kiss him again.

     The kiss that followed was filled with passion, years of yearning, and a total desire to try their hands at love again—to take the risk and follow the lead after being released.

Lord, Thank You is never enough. The words, the characters, the stories. Thank you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.