![]() ![]() He let me go because his mother was losing it. I took in deep breaths as I saw them, his parents, his sister, a man hanging back in the house, a little boy at his side, leaning against his dad’s leg, a toddler in the curve of the man’s arm.ĭeacon’s nephew and niece, both he’d never met.ĭeacon let my hand go halfway up the steps that were nearly covered with empty pots awaiting spring flowers, making the ascent awkward for two people. He closed the door for me, grabbed my hand, and guided me to the walk. I pushed my door open and Deacon was there when I jumped out. His mother had told him to come immediately.Īs I heard Deacon’s door open, I watched the woman walk out onto the porch, a man followed her, more people were inside. He suggested dinner at a restaurant that evening. In the hotel that we’d checked into forty-five minutes ago, he’d made the call to tell them we were in town and he wanted to see them. He didn’t even stop before the door opened and a woman’s body filled it. ![]() It was snowing, late afternoon, skies gray, when Deacon pulled up to the curb outside the tidy, little house on a sweet street in Iowa. ![]()
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