CHAPTER FIVE
Abel Lee
I wake up in an unfamiliar house. Blinking a few times, I remember last night. I’m at Savannah Mae’s house. I have a kink in my neck that I try to work out before I stand up. Sitting on the couch, I realize how uncomfortable I am. Should I leave? Should I stay? Do I make myself at home and make coffee? I really want some coffee, and I want to go to the bathroom, but I can’t remember if her floors creak. What will Sawyer Jackson think if he sees me?
I hear the coffee pot before I smell the coffee. Thank God, Savannah Mae’s up. I stand and walk into the kitchen, expecting to see her standing at the sink. When she isn’t there, I look around the small house. No Savannah Mae; the coffee pot is on the automatic timer. The floor didn’t creak when I walked across it. I go to the bathroom and I’m surprised when I come out and Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson are still in bed asleep. I quietly wait for the coffee to finish brewing while I stand at the kitchen window and look out at the pile of wood in the backyard. I also notice a few dead trees around the old school that need to be cut down. If they fall on their own and hit the building, it could cause a heap of problems.
I pour myself a coffee and drink it while looking outside. I think I’m afraid if I move, I’ll wake up Savannah Mae and her son. There are a hundred things I need to do and I’m not getting anything done standing here. I need to leave, but I don’t want to leave without seeing Savannah Mae. Looking around, I’m grateful when I find a stack of Post-it notes and a pen in a drawer in the kitchen. I jot down a quick note, and after I check on Sawyer Jackson, I quickly put on my boots and coat, add a log to the hot embers, and leave.
On my way walking to Momma and Pop’s house, I see the preacher getting out of his truck. He takes a few items from his backseat and walks into the church. It’s still bitter cold, but at least it’s not snowing. I decide to stop by and see the preacher before going home. The death of Larry is weighing heavy on my mind. Maybe Pastor Jenson will know something about his funeral and his death. I need a newspaper to see if anything new has been posted.
I knock on the door before walking in. I yell, “Pastor Jenson, it’s Abel L… Kennedy.” I clear my throat. Now Savannah Mae has me calling myself Abel Lee.
“Yes, Abel, please come in.”
I hear him, but I don’t see him. Closing the door tightly behind me, I can still feel the chill in the air. I used the back kitchen door to enter the church. It’s the same door he used to come in. I stand by the door and wait to be invited in further. It’s the house of the Lord, but I still feel like I need an invite on a non-Sabbath day. He appears from the other room and invites me in.
“What brings you here today?” He pulls out a chair for me to sit on at the table.
“I just got back into town last night and I heard about Larry.”
“Ah, Larry Adams.” He nods and says, “There’s been a lot of talk about him these last few days.”
“I’m sure there has. I didn’t know him outside of the church.” I look at him and say, “Is there any news other than what’s being posted in the paper?”
“I called the Sheriff’s Department to try to find out what I could, then I went to Larry’s neighbor’s house when the police couldn’t tell me anything. It seems that Larry was the last living relative other than a few distant cousins who live out of town.”
“He really was a loner. Is there any news of how or why he died?”
“Did you read the Zanesville Times Recorder?”
“I did.”
“According to the neighbor, all of that was the truth. He asked Larry to ride out the storm with him and his wife, and Larry refused. He went back to check on Larry a few days later and that’s when they found him dead. The neighbor said that when he didn’t see smoke coming from Larry’s chimney, he knew something was wrong.”
“So it’s true. He froze to death.” I look at the preacher and he looks as sad as I feel.
“Not sure until the autopsy report comes back, but that’s what it looks like.”
I stand and walk towards the kitchen door of the church. “Was there food in his house?” Please say yes.
“The house had very little food in it, according to the neighbor.”
“This is a real problem, isn’t it?”
“For some people in this area, it is. That’s why we are so grateful to your folks. They do so much for the community and it is so appreciated.” He stands and walks towards me. “I need to thank you for the generous offering you gave to the church a few weeks back.”
“Please, don’t thank me for paying my dues. I should have already had those taken care of years ago. God has been very good to me, and I should’ve paid my offerings for that.”
“Our God is a very kind and forgiving God, Abel. We try to live our life like He would want us too. If we do wrong, we try to correct it. We aren’t perfect and we don’t pretend to be.”
“Thank you.”
“The church is very thankful for your generosity, and we plan to use the money wisely. That’s why I’m here today.” I look down at him and he has a kind smile, “The church is in need of a furnace, and with your help, we are able to get a new one. They should be here very soon to install it for us. Please, tell your Momma that on Sunday, the church will have heat as long as the power stays on.” He chuckles and I know he’s referring to the snowstorm and the lack of electricity recently.
“Momma will be happy to hear that. I need to get going.” I begin to open the door to leave and I remember I didn’t ask about funeral arrangements for Larry.
“Is there any word on a funeral or a memorial service for Larry?”
“No funeral. Larry donated his body to Ohio University in Athens. He made clear his wishes to his neighbor, and he also carried a donor card in his wallet.”
“To the Department of Osteopathic Medicine?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Momma and Pops are also future donors. It’s a great cause and many people will benefit from it.”
“Yes, they will.”
“Thank you, Pastor Jenson, for your time.”
“Anytime, Abel.”
I leave and walk up the steep driveway to Momma and Pops. I get a call on my cell phone from a private number. I answer it, but no one is on the other end. I wonder if it’s a prank call or poor phone reception. The snow is frozen and makes it difficult to walk on the ice. My mind races with thoughts of Larry Adams and of Anna Harris, the girl in New York I helped just a few days ago. I hope she is able to start over. She seemed sincere. Was the money I gave her enough to make a difference in her and her son’s life? I hope so.
I have breakfast and take a quick shower. Pops has been taking care of the chores while I’ve been away, and Levi has been snowed in. Momma, Pops, and I talk about Larry Adams. I learn that awhile back Momma and Pops were discussing their plans to donate their body and Larry was very interested. They are pleased to hear that he made the decision to give his body to help others. Thinking about dissecting a body is gruesome, but it is an important part of a doctor’s training. Often, one body is used to train two doctors. One medical student dissects the left side of the body, and the other medical student dissects the right side. Two doctors can save many thousands of lives during their careers.
“Do you think that we should have a memorial service or something for him? Seems wrong to not celebrate that man’s life.”
Momma says, “I know the church is planning on having something for him on Sunday.”
Pops and I go outside and cut some firewood. The exercise feels good and I realize how much I’ve missed it. I visit with the horses and feed the other animals. With these cold temps, they burn more calories trying to stay warm.
I check my cell phone and I have a message from Savannah Mae.
Savannah Mae: Mornin’. Did you sleep well?
Abel: Good morning to you. Still working out the kinks in my neck, but after a few days, it should be all right.
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br /> Savannah Mae: I’m sorry about that. I should have offered you a pillow, but I didn’t want to wake you.
Abel: Really, I’m fine. Thanks for the coffee this morning.
Savannah Mae: You’re welcome. Sorry, you missed out on the eggs and pancake breakfast. I’m an excellent cook, but you wouldn’t know that.
Now I feel bad. Maybe I should have stayed.
Abel: Had to leave early, didn’t want your son knowing about me spending the night at his Momma’s. He also might say something misleading to other people.
Savannah Mae: Good thinkin’.
Abel: Raincheck?
Savannah Mae: Sounds good.
There’re lots to do on the farm, so I busy myself with it. I don’t go in and see Savannah Mae, although I want to. I’m a grown man living with my parents, and I have nothing to offer her or her son. My mind drifts back to an ex-girlfriend and I fight the urge to contact her. Things ended badly between us, but I have a need to see how she is. I hope Savannah Mae never finds out about her or our break-up, because there is no way she would understand.
The snow is melting and it looks like the driveway might be clear enough for us to make it to church on Sunday. I attach the snowplow to the tractor and help with the snow removal on the steep driveway. After several trips up and down the driveway, I can finally begin to see the gravel. The warmth of the sun should melt the rest of the snow in a day or two.
As soon as I walk into the house, Momma and Pops are putting on their boots and coats.
“Going somewhere?” I ask.
“Bud needs to get out for a minute. He was doin’ fine in the house until he heard the gravel crunchin’ beneath your tires.” Momma laughs. “We’re headin’ to the grocery store and thought we would have lunch at Peaches Place. I wanna see Mia and my soon-to-be-born grandbaby.”
“Do you want to come, Abel?” Pops asks.
“No, I’m going to shower and maybe take Colonel for a ride.”
“There’s some chicken salad in the fridge if you get hungry.” Momma throws her scarf around her neck as Pops opens the door for them to leave.
“Be careful.”
The next day, Pops and I go into Zanesville and shop at Mattingly Foods and Sam’s Club. There are very few places where you can buy in bulk without a vendors license. We stock the church’s kitchen cabinets, freezer, and the refrigerator full.
On Sunday, we get up early and Momma and Mia make a large meal for the potluck at the church. Larry’s death is the reason for the feast and Larry’s death will weigh heavy on all of us for a long time.
Savannah Mae
Today, Sawyer Jackson and I have a hard time findin’ a place to park at the church. I think everyone in the community is attendin’ church today. Mom and Daddy walk over and Sawyer Jackson takes off runnin’ towards my sister, Samantha Marie. Daddy carries the food into the kitchen while we find a place to sit. The church is warm, and I have to unbutton my coat and remove my scarf. I can’t remember this church ever being too warm in the winter.
The church is full, but we find a pew in the back of the room to accommodate the five of us.
“Mommy, I’m hot,” Sawyer Jackson says, stretchin’ his neck out of his zipped-up coat. He is holdin’ a dog made from balloons that Larry made for him a few weeks ago. The balloon dog is slowly deflating and feels rubbery. Sawyer Jackson doesn’t care. It’s one of the few things he has to remember Larry by.
Samantha Marie takes off his coat and hat before she removes her own.
“It is warm in here,” Mom says.
“It feels good,” I say.
Daddy joins us and the service starts after a few minutes. Today’s service isn’t like any other service. Pastor Jenson starts off by giving thanks to the community for making it possible for the church to purchase a new furnace.
Next, he talks about Larry Adams, food and nutrition, and the importance of accepting help when it’s offered. To refuse needed help when it is offered is to be guilty of pride, one of the seven deadly sins. To offer help when it is needed is one way to show that you have faith: Both faith and good deeds are necessary to live a good life. He closes the sermon with talking about giving the gift of life through organs or the entire body. He reads the short obituary that was in the paper for Larry. Today’s sermon wasn’t a sermon; instead, it was a memorial for our friend, Larry Adams.
The preacher says, “This is from James 2:14-18: what good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. But someone will say, ‘You have faith and I have works.’ Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works.”
Several people are cryin’ and sayin’ “Amen” in agreement with what the preacher is sayin’. After the service, we all congregate together for the potluck dinner. I see Abel Lee and his family and he waves and smiles. I haven’t seen him since he fell asleep on my couch. I made sure to have my phone on and charged, but he hasn’t called me. Mia once said they don’t get good phone service on the Kennedy Mule Hill Farm.
I smile at the thought and I hear a deep husky voice in my ear. “Thinking of something funny?”
“As a matter of fact, I was.” I turn around and face him and he looks handsome.
”I was hoping maybe you and I could do something later?”
“Whatcha got in mind?”
“How about I surprise you? Dress warm, and I’ll pick you up at 3:00 p.m.”
“That doesn’t give me much time to get ready.”
“I know. I’ve already arranged for Samantha Marie to watch Sawyer Jackson.”
When I open my mouth to answer, he turns and walks away.
Abel Lee
After church, I picked up Savannah Mae and took her sled riding at Dillon State Park. It’s the perfect place and on that day, it wasn’t overly crowded or cold. After sled riding, we went to Giddy’s Restaurant over the hill and had hot chocolate and marshmallows. We talked and laughed and we have been officially exclusive ever since. I like Savannah Mae — she isn’t like anyone else I have ever dated. I never told Savannah Mae about my ex-girlfriend. I decided that it’s in the past and it doesn’t need to resurface into the present. There’s a lot I haven’t told her about my life, but some things are better kept private.
As the Farmer’s Almanac had predicted, we had one cold and snowy winter. The Farmer’s Almanac has long had an excellent reputation for weather predictions. In 1816, the guy who did the predictions forgot to write something for some days in the summer in New England. The editor decided to have fun and wrote such things as “Snow. Ponds frozen over.” Lots of people had a good laugh when they read the predictions, but that year an inactive volcano — Mount Tambora — got very, very active. The dust and ash in the air blocked enough sunshine that the weather got cold, and yes, New England had snow and frozen-over ponds for some days that summer. In New England, 1816 is known as the year without a summer.
The community is coming to terms with the sudden death of Larry. I think the memorial service the church had for him helped everyone be more accepting of his death. The Zanesville Times Recorder also wrote two fantastic articles: one on hunger in rural areas and another on organ and body donation. I don’t always agree with things that get published in the newspapers, but I have to give credit when it’s deserved. They did an excellent job with both articles. Organ donation and hunger are both topics that need awareness brought to them. What good are your organs to you after you die? They will just rot. Why not donate them and keep one or more people alive? Or, if you are old and your organs cannot be used in transplants, why not give your body to a medical school so it can be used to educate doctors who will help heal thousands of people
? People won’t throw away a TV that is worth a couple of hundred dollars, yet they are willing to let organs rot that are worth a few lives.
Mia and Levi are reading every book possible on Down syndrome. I applaud them for their decision and for standing firm. I also pray that God doesn’t give them more than they can handle. I haven’t told anyone, but I’ve been doing my own research on the syndrome. The depth of it has a very broad range of severity. I just pray if my niece or nephew has it, it’ll be a very minor degree of the syndrome. When we talk about the baby, which is often, we focus on the good things. When the baby is born, the gender will be a surprise to everyone. That alone is pretty exciting.
I’m still staying with Momma and Pops, but I need my own place. I want to build my own home, but I don’t want to come off as flashy. I don’t need much, but I do need a place of my own.
Over the last month, Pops and I have been recruiting people in the community for help with the rehabilitation project of the old school. It’ll take a lot of manpower to remodel the school and remove the debris. I had a couple empty dumpsters and a porta potty brought in and purchased some chainsaws and other tools I thought we could use. My plan is to clear everything from the building and the lot, then powerwash the building to get rid of the graffiti. Then I want to start replacing the windows, roof, plumbing, and the electrical wiring in the old school.
Yesterday while Pops was checking the mail, there was another letter addressed to me. “You got fan mail?” Pops asks.
I smile and take it from him. “Thank you, it sure looks like it.”
“They seem to follow you all over the place,” Pops teases.
“I don’t know about that.”
Later that night I open the letter with no return address. It’s from the same person with the shaky handwriting.
Abel Kennedy,
You’re going to pay for what you did.
Not a Fan
I flip the page over and, of course, there isn’t anything else written on the paper. I have no idea who this is. My mind thinks back and I honestly can’t pinpoint who it is. There’re so many people who could be out to get me. This isn’t the first time that I have received hate mail, but it is the first time anyone has ever tracked me back to my country roots.
I know there isn’t anything the police can do, and I don’t feel threatened. I do wonder why or how someone could have tracked me back to my hometown.
Next I open a letter from Anna Harris from Indiana. I remember the name from the girl I helped out in New York. I’m a little surprised to hear from her. The envelope was mailed to my New York address, but was forwarded to Momma and Pop’s address, which is my temporary address.
Dear Abel,
Where do I begin? You are an angel from heaven. Thank you. Thank you for helping me and my son. Thank you for giving me a fresh start and a chance to make something of myself for me, and for my son.
When I met you, I had honestly hit rock bottom. I was at the lowest point of my life. I was perhaps a week away from becoming a prostitute. Well, I hope that will be the lowest point of my life. I sure don’t want to go through anything like that again.
When you left the restaurant, I sat there. I was stunned or in shock, or maybe both. I held the check you left me and just looked at it. $100,000. A complete stranger left me $100,000. I never had that much money before.
At first, I was afraid this was a twisted joke. What if the check bounced, or the account was closed? I was scared, but if it was a good check, I knew exactly what I would do with it.
I knew I only had one chance to get it right. I only had one chance for a fresh start, and I didn’t want to mess it up.
We needed a car to get us back to Indiana safely. I needed a house for my son and I to live, and I needed to get back in school and pay it off in advance.
Once the check cleared, I got a car. Nothing new or fancy, but a nice, used Honda Civic. We arrived home and my parents greeted us warmly and lovingly. Now, I wonder what I was afraid of. They love my son and it’s nice that he has grandparents.
I immediately enrolled in cosmetology school and paid off the tuition in full. It felt good. We are still living with my parents, and I banked the rest of the money. Of course, I’m helping my parents with groceries, when they let me. In the spring, I want to buy a house, but I need to find the perfect one for my son, Beau.
Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. I hope one day I will get a chance to see you again. I want to personally thank you for my second chance. I wrote my phone number at the bottom of this letter in case you need it.
Anna and Beau
I put her number in my phone and quickly send her a text.
Abel: Thank you for the letter. This is my number if you ever need it.
Anna: Cool, thanks. Heading into class. I need my education. Have a great day and thanks, again.
Today I’m starting the rehabilitation project of the old school. I’m not exactly sure what I want to do with it. It came with the small lot it was built on, but I also bought the 30-something-acre land behind the school.
Pops and I get a large thermal jug and fill it to the brim with coffee. We also bought several dozen donuts from Darrell’s Donuts in South Zanesville. It’s not a hearty breakfast, but it is better than nothing. I figure, if I can get people to work for me, I should at least feed them until they get their first paycheck. We also fill another cooler with bottled water, pop, and Powerade. We’ve been recruiting people for the past month and to be honest, I’m not sure how many people will show up.
“Well, look at that,” Pops says as we pull up to the school.
I smile when I see Johnny sitting on the steps. “He showed up,” I say, proudly.
“And he’s dressed for work,” Pops adds.
I look around and I don’t see anyone else around. “I hope he’s not the only one working with us today.”
“We’re early, there’ll be others.”
Johnny stands up and walks over to the truck to greet us. “Mornin’,” he says.
“Good morning, you ready to get started?”
“Just waitin’ on instructions on what you want me to do.”
“Are you too young for coffee?” I ask. Pops laughs as he sets the thermos of coffee on the tailgate of the truck.
“No, sir. Your Daddy and I drink coffee together on the weekends.”
I look at Pops and he just laughs. “Your Momma know you drink coffee?”
“Yes, sir. She buys me cream and sugar for it. She’d rather me drink coffee than whiskey.”
Pops clears his throat. I bet she would. “Please, help yourself to the coffee. We’ll start work in a few minutes.”
After a few minutes and just before 8:00 a.m., several trucks pull up. I’m happy to see some people from the church are here to help. Savannah Mae’s dad is also here.
I know some of the guys, but Pops introduces me to everyone by name. I give instructions on what I want to be done and everyone begins work. The guys go inside the building and Johnny and I start cutting down trees and clearing the debris from the lot. While I cut the trees down, Johnny carries the cut wood and stacks it neatly in the field.
Johnny and I take a break and we both walk into the building. It’s the first weekend in March and it’s still cold out. Not bitter cold, but it’s still cold enough to see your breath. I’m happy to see everyone working so hard. I didn’t mention paying anyone but Johnny, but I see these guys deserve something. I’m sure paying them under the table will be acceptable, at least for now.
Johnny stays with me as I walk around the room. The broken windows have all been removed from the frames and carefully disposed of in the dumpsters. Some of the guys have already started removing the old light fixtures from the ceiling.
Just before lunch, Mia and Savannah Mae pull in. I smile as soon as I see them. I always smile when I see Savannah Mae.
“Hey, cowboy,” she greets me.
I look do
wn at my work boots, jeans, and Carhartt coat. I don’t seem much like a cowboy. It’s been my nickname for a few months. Oddly, I don’t think I’ve ever had a nickname before, and I hardly consider myself a cowboy.
“I’m surprised to see you here.”
“We brought lunch,” Mia yells from over the trunk hood.
“You did?” I ask. “Johnny and I were just heading out to get food for everyone.”
“Hi, Johnny,” Savannah Mae says. Johnny nods and smiles.
“Looks like we’ll save y’all a trip,” Mia says as she opens the back door of the truck, then adds, “Don’t just stand there, help us set everything up.”
We set up the back of the truck like a buffet with all of the food they brought and the drinks we brought. The guys are very grateful as they shuffle through the line. I eat last because I want to make sure there’s enough food, and there is. In fact, there are enough sandwiches and chips to feed everyone twice. The girls sit in the truck with the heater on, and I stand next to Savannah Mae’s window talking to them. Pops is on the other side of the truck, talking to us.
Mia becomes startled and feels her belly. “Something happened,” she says, placing her hand on her belly.
Pops and I look concerned and Savannah Mae asks, “Did the baby kick?”
“What?”
“Did the baby kick? Feelin’ movement comin’ from the inside of your belly can sometimes be startlin’.”
Pops and I look at each other as fear leaves our face.
Mia smiles and says excitedly, “It did it again.”
“I miss that feelin’. That’s your baby you’re feelin’. It’s amazin’, isn’t it?”
“I have to call Levi. He won’t believe it,” Mia squeals.
“We need to get back to work. This buildin’ won’t reconstruct itself. Thank you both for lunch,” Pops says, downing the last of his bottled water.
“You’ll be over for dinner?” Savannah Mae asks.
“If that’s an invite, I’ll be over.”
Mia pipes in, “Since I’m off, why don’t everyone come over to my house for dinner? We’ll celebrate the baby kickin’.”
Pops, Momma, Savannah Mae, and I will have dinner at Mia and Levi’s at 6:00 this evening. I thank Mia and kiss Savannah Mae goodbye. The guys and I work until 4:00. “I didn’t expect so many workers to show today.”
Pops look around at the eight workers. “They did come out in full force.”
“It looks like I’ll need to set up a payroll account for this. I initially thought of just paying the one or two who showed up cash.”
“See how many plan to continue this project until the end. If the majority plan to stick around, you’ll definitely need a payroll account for them. You don’t want to get in trouble with the tax people or labor department.”
“Good idea.”
I pay everyone the same amount in cash and I’m pleasantly surprised to see they are all planning on helping out until this project is finished. They are also hesitant about taking the money, although I know they need it. Johnny thanks me and says, “This will help Momma pay the light bill.”
I nod and it makes me a little sad because a 16-year-old boy is working to pay the electric bill. Hopefully, with the money he earns tomorrow he’ll be able to buy something for himself. His school lessons come first, but he can work on the weekends.
When everyone leaves, I get the wheelbarrow from the shed at Savannah Mae’s, and I start hauling the firewood we cut down earlier. She’s over at Mia’s helping with dinner while Sawyer Jackson’s with his dad. I didn’t get all of the wood hauled the short distance to her house, but I did get most of it. This will be a nice stockpile for next year.
Savannah Mae
Mia and I fix dinner together at her house, and Nelly even came over to help us. It’s nice havin’ a girls’ day while the guys are at work. It’s the first time Mia has opened up about the concerns of her baby havin’ Down syndrome.
“My biggest fear is the baby will be born with a severe form of the syndrome. I’m praying every day that if she has it at all, it’ll be very mild, but honestly, she could be born with a very severe case.”
“Have you talked to Levi and your doctor about this?” I ask.
“All the time. The research is frightening to us. If the baby does have Down syndrome, she can have other health issues such as heart problems and seizures, and she can even have muscular problems. What if Levi and I are selfish? What if our decision to continue with the pregnancy is the wrong decision?” she cries.
My eyes well up with tears. I know her concern is real. Abel Lee and I have been doin’ our own research. The severity level is alarming.
“What does your heart tell you, Mia?” Nelly asks.
Mia looks at Nelly and wipes away her tears, “That my baby will be fine. I can see her smilin’ and laughin’; she’s happy and healthy.”
“Then hold on to that thought, Mia. I also can see my future little grandbaby runnin’ around and laughin’. Believe that he or she will be okay. Don’t give up hope on that.”
The front door opens and in walks Levi. Mia wipes away her tears before he can see them. He enters the kitchen with a smile.
“Hi,” he says before he walks over to kiss Mia. “So, my baby was kickin’ today.”
“She was,” Mia says, proudly.
“He missed his daddy,” Levi corrects the gender of the baby.
“He might be a girl,” Mia says.
“And she might be a boy,” Levi laughs. We all laugh and soon forget the unhappy thoughts of the baby’s future. I personally think the baby will be okay. I don’t want to think anything different.
“I need to shower before dinner. If he kicks again, come get me.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. Get up there and shower before your Pops and brother show up.”
“I’m goin’, little Momma.”
It makes me smile to hear Levi call her “little Momma.” It is such a sweet gesture.
Bud and Abel Lee show up and we have a sit-down dinner in the eat-in kitchen. We had to use extra chairs from the card table to accommodate everyone at the table. The baby kicks and Levi, Nelly, and Abel Lee are able to feel it. They are all excited and thrilled. This is the first child in their family, and I know how excited they are.
I decide I need to make plans to throw Mia a baby shower. I remember how little I had when Sawyer Jackson was born, and how much I needed. Havin’ a first-born baby, you really don’t know what to expect or what you’ll need. I’ll need to get with Nelly and talk to her about a date and time.
After dinner, I get a text from Ethan asking me to pick up Sawyer Jackson. He said he hasn’t been feelin’ well. Abel Lee watches me from across the room and I try to smile. I’m worried, but I try not to show it. Anytime my son is sick, I worry. It’s all part of bein’ a parent. I stand and say, “I need to get Sawyer Jackson from his dad. I’m sorry, I hate to rush off.”
“Is everything all right?” Nelly asks.
“He’ll be fine. Ethan said that Sawyer Jackson’s not feelin’ well.”
Abel Lee stands and says, “I’ll take you.” He doesn’t wait for an answer as he kisses his momma and Mia and shakes his Pops’ and Levi’s hands.
I also kiss and hug everyone before leavin’.
“Is he all right?” Abel Lee asks as I get into his truck.
“I hope so. He’s been complaining of a headache the last few days. I wish he had called me earlier, I could have taken him to the doctor today.”
“Call and get him in to see his doctor first thing in the morning.”
“My car. I should take my car home. I’ll need it for tomorrow.”
Abel Lee says, “You can use my truck,” before he shuts my door.
We rush over to Ethan’s apartment and I’m surprised when Abel Lee goes to the door with me, but he stands back while I knock.
“How is he?” I ask when Heather Sue a
nswers the door. I hear someone throwing up and I walk past her into the apartment. Sawyer Jackson is on the couch and Ethan is holdin’ a bucket up for him to throw up in.
“Please come in,” she says after I’m already in.
I ignore her and focus my attention on my sick boy. I have a lot I want to say to her, but this isn’t the time or the place.
“He just started throwin’ up,” Ethan says. I kneel down to be closer to my son and feel his forehead. “He said his head and his belly’s been hurtin’.”
“He has a fever,” I say.
“We’ll take him to the hospital,” Abel Lee says. “Do you have a blanket we can wrap him up in? The truck’s already warm.”
“That’s my good blanket,” Heather Sue says, looking at the blanket fallin’ half off the couch onto the floor.
Abel Lee walks up and wraps Sawyer Jackson in the blanket and says, “We’ll see you get it back.” He lifts Sawyer Jackson up and cradles him like a newborn baby.
Heather Sue says, “Ethan, you can stay here. I doubt that it’s anything serious.”
“You might need this,” Ethan says as he hands me the vomit bucket. “Call me when you find out what’s wrong,” Ethan yells out the door to us.
I sit in the backseat with Sawyer Jackson as Abel Lee drives us to Bethesda Hospital in Zanesville. Rose Farm, Roseville, and Crooksville are too small to have a hospital. Sawyer Jackson throws up on Heather Sue’s good blanket; if I didn’t feel so sorry for my son, I might have gotten a little enjoyment from that.
“We’re almost there. Hang on, Buddy,” Abel Lee says. It’s the first time I ever heard Abel Lee call my son by his nickname. It almost sounds unnatural comin’ from his mouth.
When Sawyer Jackson vomits again, I get worried. I repeat Abel Lee’s words: “Hang on, Buddy.”
I ask Abel Lee, “Can you hurry?” It’s all I can say. My son has never thrown up this much or this often before.
“Almost there,” he says as he picks up speed.
He pulls up at the emergency entrance and parks. He rushes out of the truck and I scoop Sawyer Jackson up in my arms. Abel Lee opens my door and takes Sawyer Jackson from me. Usually, he waits and closes the door after me, but today, he rushes inside the hospital, leavin’ me to close the door. I love that he is lookin’ out for my son. I wonder why Ethan didn’t think it was urgent when Sawyer Jackson was sick and vomitin’ with a fever?
We are led to a room right away.
Abel Lee says, “I have to park the truck, I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry,” I say as I watch the nurse attending to my sick son.
“I will. It’ll be all right, Savannah Mae.”
Within minutes, the doctor is in the room orderin’ the nurse to give my son a shot of Phenergan for his vomitin’, some Tylenol for his fever, and an IV of fluids for dehydration. I’ve never seen my son get an IV before. I hold Sawyer Jackson’s hand as he dozes off to sleep. I’m thankful that Phenergan causes drowsiness. The doctor orders blood work and we wait. Sawyer Jackson’s fever comes down, but he moans in his sleep from pain.
Abe Lee walks into the room and sits beside me. “How is he?”
I tell him what the nurse and doctors are goin’ to do for him. “He’s dehydrated.”
“It’s because he’s thrown up so much. I called Momma when I parked the car, I didn’t want them to wonder where we are.”
I nod and Abel Lee holds me close; I let him. I continue to hold Sawyer Jackson’s hand as he sleeps. I pray and Abel Lee looks fearful. It dawns on me that Abel Lee doesn’t have children and although I’m scared, I still kind of know what to expect during a hospital visit.
“Are you okay?” I ask, looking at Abel Lee.
He tries to smile, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “He looks so tiny lying there.”
“He does. He always seems so much smaller when he’s sick.”
“I feel so helpless. I don’t think I ever felt this way before.”
I look away and watch my sick son lie helpless on the hospital bed. “It sucks. Feeling useless is the worst part of parenthood.” We sit quietly and stare at the IV dripping fluids into Sawyer Jackson’s tiny hand. I wonder if I should call his daddy or my parents. I decide to wait until I know something.
The doctor comes in and tells us someone is in the waitin’ room.
“I’ll go talk to them.” Abel Lee stands and walks out the door to give the doctor and me some privacy.
“Your son’s white blood count is elevated. We’re going to admit him overnight.”
“What does that mean?” I ask as I watch Sawyer Jackson sleep.
“It means he has an infection. We’re just not sure what kind. We’ll run some more tests and hopefully, we’ll get an answer soon.”
I look from Sawyer Jackson to the doctor. “It isn’t anything serious, is it? He’s gonna be all right, isn’t he?”
“Mrs. Dickerson…”
“It’s Miss, I’m divorced.”
The doctor nods. “Miss Dickerson, it’s probably nothing serious. We’ll know more tomorrow.”
Abel Lee
I walk out into the waiting room, expecting to see Sawyer Jackson’s dad, Ethan. I know if my son were in the hospital, I would want to be there. I’m surprised that he didn’t come. To my surprise, I see Momma, Pops, Levi, and Mia. Momma stands and she looks concerned. “How is he?”
“I’m not sure, the doctor’s in there now.” I look around the room and everyone looks sad. “He’s dehydrated. They gave him something for his fever and his nausea.”
“Can we see him?” Mia asks. “We’ve been so worried about him that we needed to see him for ourselves to make sure he’s all right.”
“I don’t know, he’s so sick.” I look at Mia and say, “He’s so small and helpless lying there.”
Pops says, “You feel like you want to do something for him and you can’t.”
“Yes.”
Pops says seriously to Levi, “Welcome to fatherhood.”
“Is that what fatherhood feels like?” Levi asks.
“Sometimes, yes,” Momma agrees.
The doctor comes out and Mia asks him if she can go back and see Sawyer Jackson. He informs us they are admitting him and will be moving him upstairs. I go back with Savannah Mae while Pops, Momma, Mia, and Levi go up to the pediatric floor to wait for us.
We all visit while Sawyer Jackson sleeps. Thankfully, the medication causes drowsiness. I decide to leave when everyone else does.
“Do you need anything for tomorrow?” I ask before leaving Savannah Mae there to attend to her sick son.
“Clean clothes and a toothbrush would be nice.” She thinks for a moment and says, “You’ll be at work tomorrow on the old schoolhouse, so I’ll have my sister bring my things up when she comes. It’s better that way. I don’t mind if she looks in my underwear drawer.”
“Do you have your cell phone to call her?”
“Yep,” she smiles.
“Is it charged?”
I watch as she reaches into her purse for her cell phone. “Abel Lee, you treat me like a child,” she says as she looks at her phone. Her smile fades and I don’t need to ask.
“Here, take mine and I’ll charge yours,” I say, handing her my cell phone for the night. I take hers and kiss her goodnight.
“Thank you, you know me so well.”
“It’s my job.” I kiss her again and I lean down and kiss Sawyer Jackson on his forehead. He’s asleep and doesn’t move. I wait at the door for everyone to say their goodbyes. “Call me if you need me, and I’ll be up right after work.”
Savannah Mae walks up to me and hugs me again before I leave. “Thank you, Abel Lee.”
“You’re welcome, Savannah Mae. Call me if you need me or if there’s any changes.”
When I get home, I do the chores and shower before bed. Momma and Pops go to bed early, leaving me to my thoughts. It’s still cold, so I add anoth
er log on the fire before turning in. I lie awake and think about Sawyer Jackson. I can’t get the feeling of helplessness out of my head. I wanted so much to help him, and I couldn’t do anything. I never wanted children and this is the reason why. It’s hard to want to help a child and there’s nothing you can do for them.
I also think about the anonymous letters I’ve been getting. I have no clue who sent them, although I know several people who could have a vendetta against me. Being a professional boxer isn’t easy. You go into the ring knowing there is the possibility that you may not come out alive. It’s something you know and you accept. You just pray that fate will be on your side and you’ll live to see another day.
I’ve been very lucky in my boxing career, but others I fought haven’t been so fortunate. I once killed a man in the ring. It was almost enough to make me hang up my gloves forever. However, my trainer and coach pushed me to continue. While I was seeking counseling for killing a man, they were promoting me and scheduling my next fight. The next fight didn’t happen right away. Boxers were frightened to go into the ring with me. I was thankful because I needed that year to heal. I took a man’s life. Although it was unintentional, it weighs heavy on my heart, and on my mind.
I set up a financial account to help the family with funeral and living costs, I sent flowers to the funeral home, and I also sent a letter of condolence. I took a man’s life, and no money will ever replace that. I just wanted them to know I was sorry.
If someone had killed my brother, Levi, would I be mad enough to go after them? I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d beat them down and not even think twice about it. The letters must be from that man’s family.
The next morning after church, Pops and I go to work and Momma goes to the hospital to see Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson.
“Tell Savannah Mae I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I will, Abel, but I’m hopin’ that they’ll both be home by then.”
“He was pretty sick, so I doubt he’ll be home anytime soon.”
“You’d be surprised what antibiotics can do.”
Pops and I fill the cooler with drinks and the thermos with coffee before we head down to the old schoolhouse. Johnny is already there waiting for us, just like yesterday. All the guys who were here yesterday show up for work today. Danny from the church brings hot breakfast sandwiches for everyone.
“I heard about Savannah Mae and her son. I figured you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Danny says, handing me a cup of coffee.
“Thank you, I didn’t.” I wonder how word spread so quickly about Sawyer Jackson.
“How is he?”
“He was pretty sick last night. I haven’t heard anything yet today.”
“Pastor Jenson said he was going’ to start a prayer chain for him. Send out a group e-mail to everyone in the church. Hopefully, he’ll start feelin’ better soon.”
I take a drink of my strong black coffee and watch as the other workers help themselves to the breakfast sandwiches Danny brought. “I hope so. He was pretty sick last night.”
“Never underestimate the power of prayer, Abel.”
We get to work and Johnny and I finish cutting down the trees and then we haul them over to Savannah Mae’s house. I’m pleased to see the stockpile she’s starting to get. Although it’s the beginning of March, it’s still cold in Ohio.
Pops, who is a certified electrician, and a few guys start tearing out the electrical wires while the other people are removing the old doors and cabinets. “We’re makin’ pretty good progress,” Johnny says.
“Yes, we are. It still looks bad, but not as bad.”
We both laugh and he looks around at the interior.
When all of the wood is cut and stacked over at Savannah Mae’s house, Johnny and I go inside and help the others. At lunch, I call Dena’s Floral Design in Zanesville and order something for Sawyer Jackson and a little something for Savannah Mae so she knows that I am thinking of her. I haven’t heard anything, so I’m hoping that’s good news.
By the end of the day, all of the windows and light fixtures are removed from inside the building. We all agree that we’ll get the building power washed tomorrow, before we do anything else.
After work, Pops and I quickly shower. I stop by Savannah Mae’s to check her mail from yesterday before heading to the hospital.
Savannah Mae
Mom, my sister, and Nelly have been here all day. Sawyer Jackson is still very sick and they continue to run blood tests on him. He sleeps, but he doesn’t throw up. He hasn’t eaten anything since we’ve been here. No tellin’ the last time he ate; he was with his dad yesterday. The way he looked when I picked him up last night I don’t think he ate anythin’ most of the day. Ethan hasn’t called or stopped up to see Sawyer Jackson. I thought he would have stopped by, but he hasn’t.
I haven’t left Sawyer Jackson’s side. I’ve never seen him this sick before. I can’t bring myself to leave his side, even to eat. Mom, Nelly, and Samantha Marie stay in the room. They are quiet and are here for support. I just want my boy to get well. Shouldn’t he be awake? Shouldn’t he be cryin’? He’s just lies there and sleeps. He’s so lethargic.
I pray and hope for him to feel better, to get better. The doctors and nurses come in frequently. They keep tellin’ me he has an infection, but they aren’t sure where. Shouldn’t the tests reveal something? When will they know something?
The hospital door opens and I can tell right away that it’s Abel Lee without even lookin’ his way. His woodsy scent gives him away. I love the smell of Abel Lee. Woods and leather, he smells like a workin’ man. Nothin’ has ever smelt better than a guy who works hard to provide for his family.
“How is he?” Abel Lee asks, pullin’ a chair up next to me. He lightly strokes my arm with his fingers and I shiver.
“No change.”
“They don’t know anything? They ran tests, right?” He kisses my left temple and I lean into him.
“They have,” I whisper. “Nothing else is comin’ up abnormal but his white blood count. They’re still givin’ him IV antibiotics to treat his infection.”
“Has he been asleep all day?”
I stare at Sawyer Jackson and I don’t look back at Abel Lee. “He wakes up for only a few minutes at a time.”
“Where’s Ethan? Has he been here?”
“No, I left him a couple messages, but he didn’t answer my calls today.”
“I’ll be back.” I hear the chair move and Abel Lee walks out the door. I didn’t have time to ask where he’s goin’. Maybe he forgot something in the car. No one says anything, they all remain quiet. I focus my attention on my sick boy.
A short time later, Abel Lee comes back into the room and a doctor and a nurse is right behind him. The doctor tells me he would like to do a spinal tap on Sawyer Jackson and that they believe he may have meningitis.
My mind runs through everything I know about meningitis. Stiff neck, seizures, vomiting, headache, and fever. Meningitis is either viral or bacterial. Has he complained about a stiff neck recently? He was with Ethan when he got sick. Did he complain of a stiff neck with his dad? I know kids have died from meningitis. My hearts races, and I begin to feel sick.
“I need to call his father.” I can’t think straight. Ethan and I always made big decisions together. Where is he? Why hasn’t he been here?
Abel Lee comes up to me and speaks softly, “I think we should let them do it. The sooner they know what’s wrong, the sooner they can get him the right treatment.”
Mom and Samantha Marie come over with Nelly and stand on my other side. “Savannah Mae, it’s been long enough, let’s not wait any longer,” Mom says.
“Shouldn’t Ethan have a say in this?”
Mom says, “If he were here, yes, but he isn’t.”
“I’ll go call him again,” Nelly says.
“Again?” I look up at Nelly. “You’ve already called him?”
She
looks sad. “I’ve called a few times today.”
“Where is he? What did he say?”
“I left a message with Heather Sue, and I left other messages on his phone. I didn’t actually get to speak to Ethan.”
My heart hurts at the thought that Ethan knew his son was sick and didn’t come to be with him. I’ve called him a couple of times throughout the day and thought maybe he didn’t answer because he didn’t recognize the number. Surely he would have come after he heard my pleading messages. I look at the nurse, the doctor, and then Abel Lee.
“What would you do if he were your son?” I stare Abel Lee in his eyes. I want the truth, and I want to know he’s tellin’ me the truth.
“If I were lucky enough to have Sawyer Jackson as my son, I would want to know what’s wrong so they can fix him.” Abel Lee looks sad as he returns my stare.
I know he’s tellin’ me the truth. I know he wouldn’t put my son in danger. I know the benefits outweighs the risks of the spinal tap.
“Okay, we wasted enough time, let’s do this.”
I speak with the doctor and the nurses about the risks of the lumbar puncture. I cringe when they explain the procedure. I know it’ll be painful for Sawyer Jackson, I just hope he sleeps through most of it. They get Sawyer Jackson ready to take him to the treatment room where the procedure will be done. Bud, Levi, Mia, and my daddy show up. I’m happy to see them but disappointed when it isn’t Ethan.
After the procedure, when I finally get to see Sawyer Jackson, he is awake and crying. I want to hold him, but I am instructed that he needs to lie flat on his belly for awhile. “He may suffer a headache but other than that, he’ll be fine,” the doctor says. “As soon as we get the results, we’ll notify you.”
I walk beside the bed, holding Sawyer Jackson’s hand, on the way to his hospital room. Abel Lee and our family are behind us. We all waited outside of the treatment room for Sawyer Jackson. It wasn’t surgery, but it was a sterile procedure.
Once inside the room, everyone kisses and talks to Sawyer Jackson, before he dozes off to sleep. I try to be polite and visit with everyone, but my attention is on my sleeping, sick son. Abel Lee takes a place beside me and doesn’t move. I try to join their conversation, but my mind can’t focus on anything but my boy.
When I hear Mia say she had a doctor’s appointment today, I can’t help but look up. She and Levi are smiling.
“Our son is growing as he should be,” Levi says proudly.
“She’s weighing over a pound already,” Mia says, laughin’ when she corrects the gender, as she pats her large belly.
Neither one of them knows for sure the sex of the baby. If Levi calls it a girl, Mia calls it a boy. If Mia calls it a girl, Levy calls it a boy. It’s funny and always brings a smile to my face when they fuss over the sex of their baby. I’m happy to see they’re excited about the baby and not focusing on what may be wrong with him or her. “I’m glad he or she is growing as it should.”
“Us, too,” Levi says. “Really we just joke about the gender.”
Mia says, “All we want is a healthy baby. A boy or a girl, it doesn’t matter.”
Mia and Levi have told only a few people about the possibility that their child may have Down syndrome. I hope the tests are wrong and their baby is born perfect.
Soon after, everyone stands to leave. Abel Lee stands with them. “I’m going to walk them out. I’ll be right back.”
“There’s no need for you to stay. You should go home, too.”
“Do you need anything on my way back?”
I look at Abel Lee and say, “You’re not leavin’ yet?”
“No, not yet. I want to spend some time with you and Sawyer Jackson.”
I lean into him. “Neither one of us is very good company tonight.”
“I don’t care, I just want to be close to you both. I stopped by your house and brought you your mail.” He lays a small stack of mail on the bedside table. It mostly looks like junk mail.
“Thank you, Abel Lee.” I snake my arm around his waist and he holds me tightly.
“Have you had dinner?”
Before I can say anything, Nelly says, “She hasn’t eaten anything all day.”
I look up at Nelly and my stomach growls. I don’t have time to reply. He frowns at me and says, “I’ll be back with something hot for you to eat.” He kisses me and turns to leave.
I kiss and hug everyone, and as soon as he closes the door I look at my cell phone, well, Abel Lee’s cell phone. Still nothin’ from Ethan. This isn’t right. I know Ethan would be here. Wouldn’t he? Before Heather Sue got pregnant, I know he would want to be here for his son. Has he changed that much since he’s been with her? I send him a text and hope that he replies.
Savannah Mae: Ethan, this is Savannah Mae, can you please call me? Sawyer Jackson is in the hospital.
I sit and watch my son and hope for my phone to beep with a reply message. I pray that Sawyer Jackson wakes up feeling better. Neither happens. Sawyer Jackson sleeps and the phone might as well be broken. As least my son is sleeping.
Abel Lee walks into the room. He looks tired or worried, I’m not sure which.
“I got you some soup and a dinner roll from the cafeteria.”
“I’m not hungry…”
“Eat. It’s only soup. You need to have something in your belly.”
I watch as he removes the lid from the Styrofoam bowl and removes the spoon from the plastic. He hands it to me, and it smells delicious. “Thank you.”
He sits in the chair closest to my son and watches over him as I eat. My intentions were to act like I was eatin’ some of the soup, but I was hungrier than I thought. I devoured the entire bowl and ate the roll that was with it. It’s funny that when you’re that worried about someone you love that you forget to take care of yourself.
I stand to throw away my trash when Abel Lee asks, “Do you want something else to eat?”
“No, thank you. That was plenty.” And it was.
Abel Lee and I talk about my son and about the progress being made at the old school. He speaks with enthusiasm, with a spark in his eyes.
I look at him and he watches me. “I’m happy that you’re here with us. I think just havin’ you here is helpin’. It was a pretty rough day today.”
“You had company all day, right?”
“I did, but it wasn’t you. You make everything better.”
Abel Lee takes my hand and leads me to sit on his lap. I snuggle into him and inhale his masculine scent. “I wish I could make Sawyer Jackson better,” he says honestly.
“I wish his dad would come and see him. This is exactly what I was afraid was going to happen.”
After awhile, Abel Lee stands to walk out of the room. I move over nearest to Sawyer Jackson. The mail he brought from the house is sittin’ on the bedside table. Most of it is junk mail, but a letter with no return address is tucked inside the advertisin’ flyers.
I quickly open it and I’m shocked by what I see: a snapshot photograph of a person in a hospital bed. Ice runs through my veins at the image. I can’t tell if this is a man or a woman. The photo reminds me of how they described Megan Rose when they found her. They said she was unrecognizable. This person looks horrific. Who would do this to someone? Why are they sendin’ me this photograph? I stare at the picture. The person is black and blue, and it looks like the person is on a ventilator. I look closer and the person’s right arm is in a cast. I read the note enclosed.
Savannah,
Do you know who did this?
Your boyfriend, Abel, did.
Oh, my God! It’s a girl! Isn’t it? I think this is a picture of a girl, but I’m not sure. I can’t tell. The person is so beaten and battered, I can’t tell if it’s a male or a female.
Abel Lee walks into the hospital room. “I got ahold of Ethan. He’s on his way.”
I can feel the blood drain from my face. My hands shake, but I continue to clutch
the photo and note in both hands. “What’s wrong?” he asks. He slowly walks closer to me. “Did they get the test results back from the spinal tap?” He looks fearful. I try to blink and swallow, but I don’t think I do either. I stare at Abel Lee. Is he capable of doing this? “Savannah Mae, please, what is it?”
I slowly lift my hands from my lap. I set the note and photograph on the bedside table. “D-d-did you do t-t-this?” I stutter.
I watch him closely. He closes his eyes and I already have my answer, but I need to hear him say it. “Abel, did you do this?”
He opens his eyes and they are red. He looks broken. “I can explain,” he murmurs.
“Abel, are you responsible for this? Yes or no?” I demand. I need to hear the words. Please say no. Tell me you’re not responsible for harmin’ a human being this badly. Please don’t be capable of causin’ these kinds of injuries to anyone. “YES OR NO, ABEL?” I yell.
He hangs his head and whispers, “Yes.”
BOOKS BY BRENDA KENNEDY
I support Indie Authors. If you read this book, please take the time to go to the purchasing site and give it a review. Independent authors count on your reviews to get the word out about our books. Thank you for taking the time to read my books and taking the extra time to review them. I appreciate it very much.
Disclaimer: People and places in this book have been used fictitiously and without malice.
The Rose Farm Trilogy
Book One: Forever Country
Book Two: Country Life…Spring of 2016
Book Three: Country Love…coming 2016
The Starting Over Trilogy
Book One: A New Beginning
Book Two: Saving Angel
Book Three: Destined to Love
The Freedom Trilogy
Book One: Shattered Dreams
Book Two: Broken Lives
Book Three: Mending Hearts
The Fighting to Survive Trilogy.
Round One: A Life Worth Fighting
Round Two: Against the Odds
Round Three: One Last Fight
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My husband, Rex: Thank you for supporting me and for coming with me on this ride. Thank you for understanding that although I am in my pajamas, I am indeed working. You are my partner for life, and I love you.
My children: Carey, John, Derek, Nikki, Chastidy, Rex, Brittany, Amanda, and Katie: Thank you for reminding me what is important every single day. I love you.
My grandchildren: Desmond, Samantha, Autumn, Evan, Derek, Dayquan, Darius, Draden, Alyssa, Hailey, Lucca, Tanner, Giovanni, Cain, Lelila, Kylie, DeVonte’, Adrienne, Amaya, Dominic, Damien, Caden, and Gemma: Thank you for reminding me that I am somebody; I am your grandma and nothing else matters. I love you all.
My sisters and brothers: George, Martha, Rosa, Carla, and Frank: Thank you for your support. I love you.
My other brother, David: Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to publish the first book. Thank you for making my ideas better and for all you do. Editing, proofreading, polishing, formatting, ideas, articles, and research websites. See, I do pay attention. Thank you. Thank you for pushing me until I get it right. Maybe someday, I’ll learn the right place to put the commas. I love you and I can never thank you enough. David writes collections of anecdotes such as The Funniest People in Comedy, and he retells classics in such books as William Shakespeare’s Macbeth: A Retelling in Prose. His books can be found for sale on all leading online electronic book sale platforms.
Christina Badder, Owner and Operator of CBB Productions: My P.A., and my friend. Thank you for taking care of all of my promotional needs. The blog tours, author spotlights, book cover reveals, give-a-ways, Rafflecopters, Thunderclap campaigns, ARC’s, and everything that I don’t know that you do or things I forgot to mention. I hope you know how much I appreciate your hard work and dedication. Girl, I love your work and your vision. One more thing I need to thank you for is this book cover, and for the other covers in this trilogy. You are so amazing and I am so glad I found you. I plan on keeping you, forever.
Thank you to all of my Beta readers: Too many to list. I appreciate your honest opinions and reviews and I love the bond that we have developed. I also appreciate that I can trust you and count on you. Thank you for encouraging me to write and for giving me ideas. You never disappoint. I love you guys!
Thank you to “Brenda’s Street Talkers” for pimping my books, making teasers and banners, and just for the love and support I receive from you every day. I love you girls.
Thank you to all the bloggers who shared in the author’s spotlight and the blog tour for Forever Country. I appreciate you more than you know.
A very special thank you to author DB Jones.
To my readers: Thank you for reading and reviewing my books. Thank you to my loyal readers who have followed me from the beginning and to those who are new to my books.
Info for David Bruce, My Brother
Wordpress Blog
https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When I first started writing, I wanted to write about real people whom others could relate to with real-life problems and real jobs. I love to read about the billionaire 20-something-year-old, but knew this wasn’t the kind of story I want to write. When my first trilogy, The Starting Over Trilogy, took form, I was thrilled to be able to make the book as close to realistic as I could.
I wanted to touch on real-life problems. Not because I want to show the weakness in my characters or to show the disturbing truth, but because I wanted to show my characters’ strengths. The Starting Over Trilogy dealt with domestic violence: a problem that is all too familiar to too many women and men.
Next came The Freedom Trilogy, a spinoff of The Starting Over Trilogy. The series started off with the All-American military family and the real problems some face during deployment. I picked my daughter’s brain and used her real emotions during the deployment stage. Thank you, Amanda. Then the story turned to drug abuse and rehabilitation.
The Fighting to Survive Trilogy focuses on battles of a boxer, depression, and how to move forward after the loss of a child. It shows two families who are fighting the same battle.
I hope in my future books I am still able to continue to write about problems most of us face while continuing to give my characters the happily ever after that they deserve.
One a lighter note: I moved to sunny Florida in 2006 and never looked back. I love freshly squeezed lemonade, crushed ice, teacups, wineglasses, non-franchise restaurants, ice cream cones, boating, picnics, cookouts, throwing parties, lace, white wine, mojitos, strawberry margaritas, white linen tablecloths, fresh flowers, and Pinterest. I also love to read and write and to spend time with my family.
My books, thus far, have been inspired by the things I love and the people who influence me, every single day, to be a better person.
You may follow me on:
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Tsu : https://www.tsu.co/BrenKenn
Twitter : https://twitter.com/BrendaKennedy_
Brenda’s Street Talkers : https://on.fb.me/1BqgdEr
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