Hurricanes in Paradise by Denise Hildreth (best ereader under 100 .TXT) 📗

stop the heaving sobs. Four years of shame wasn’t washed away with a tiny stream; it was accompanied by a torrent. And though it felt as if it would consume her, and though there was a desire for dignity, she refused to dam it up. Not in this moment. Because when you’ve been blind for four years and you finally see . . . well, you don’t care who’s watching. She had thought she no longer hid, but she still hid from so much. But not now. All things had come out of hiding.

And as they came out of hiding, it was as if pieces of her soul opened up. As if the thick anchor of shame that had wound itself around her soul, taken up residence inside the core of her, was pulled away; the weight she had carried was removed. She hadn’t even realized a heaviness had been buried in her chest for the last four years until it was gone. She felt lighter. More free. Alive. If she hadn’t been holding on to the pew in front of her, she might have lifted off.

She thought she had been living since she had put the pieces of her life back together, but she knew that what was happening here, on this tiny pew, surrounded by the beautiful water of the Atlantic Ocean, was life changing. She had been anchored to shore for way too long. And this final release was about to let her heart see what the open waters actually offered.

She felt a soft hand slowly rub her back. She couldn’t imagine what Christian must be thinking, but there was no stopping this. Though there was no sound, she was sure the shaking of her shoulders could have caused an earthquake. When the rush of all the emotion finally subsided so she could catch her breath, she swiped and dabbed at her face in a desperate and vain attempt to not look like Norma Desmond in Sunset Blvd. A black hand came from underneath her and held out two neatly folded tissues. She reached for them with gratitude and blew hard.

She raised her head to find three black faces hovering over her. Their smiles were as rich and warm as the healing balm that still flowed through her.

“You look beautiful,” the thin-faced one said, her smile wide as her gold looped earrings swung.

Riley felt the hand slip from her back and knew now it must have been hers. The rounder one with short hair and bright red lips spoke next. “Felt the Spirit, sugar? You know, He always shows up here. And He was flowing all over you.”

“Mmmm. Love that Holy Spirit,” the one on the other side with a flowered head scarf and pink lips responded, rolling her head as she closed her eyes.

Riley smiled at her new group of friends. Laine would be jealous. She chuckled to herself. “I hope I didn’t make a fool out of myself.” She dabbed at her nose again and looked around casually but couldn’t find Christian.

“Christian’s here. He’s outside with the men. And if you’re going to make a fool of yourself, honey, this is the place to do it. Jesus loves fools.”

“Mmmm . . . Loves them fools,” Flower Scarf said, eyes still closed, head still bobbing.

Riley placed her hands on top of the ones that rested on the pew in front of her. “Thank you. Thank you for praying with me.”

“We love that, sugar,” Red Lips replied. “You come join us anytime, you hear?”

Riley stood and dabbed her face again. “I will. I promise.” And she meant it. She so meant it.

The ladies walked her out under the night sky. She was grateful it was dark; that way Christian couldn’t see the flush in her cheeks. They felt like they were on fire. The elderly gentlemen scattered from the side of the car where they had been talking. One tipped his hat at Riley as Christian opened the door. The ladies patted her and kissed Christian before they finally pulled out of the parking lot.

She sat quiet for the first mile. What should you say after something like that? Is this where you take all of your dates? Sorry I was a blubbering idiot back there.

He rescued her. Again. “You are a wonderful woman, Riley Sinclair. I’m not sure what you’ve gone through all your life, but it has made you into a terrific woman.” He reached over, placed his hand gently on top of hers, and squeezed it softly, then moved his hand back to the steering wheel.

His touch sent another fire roaring through her. His words had done more than that. “Even after I cried like a baby in there?”

“It takes a strong woman to let go of her emotions like that.”

She laughed. “Is that what you’d call it?”

He laughed too. “Not your typical first date, huh?”

She turned to look at him, his face lit by the passing streetlamps. “No, but thank you. I just can’t thank you enough. Honestly, I haven’t cried like that in a very long time, but that song . . .” She turned her gaze back to the front windshield. “I’ve heard that song more times than you can shake a stick at, but tonight I really heard it. And something just went through me and I don’t know—” She stopped herself. “It just touched me in a really deep place. So thank you.”

“‘Shake a stick at’?”

A chuckle came out softly.

“Your sayings. It’s like learning a whole new language.”

She leaned her head against the headrest. She felt spent. “We’re odd little creatures that way.” Those were her last words. She had no idea when she fell asleep.

Christian nudged her gently. “We’re home, Riley.”

She jerked awake. He was crouching beside the open car door.

“I did not fall asleep.”

He nodded. “You so fell asleep.”

“I’m the perfect date, aren’t I? I eat like a man. Cry like a baby. And fall asleep like a child.”

“Do you cuss like a sailor too?” He laughed. “That saying I know.”

She laughed. “I have my days.”

He took her hand,