Wynn in the Willows (28 page)

Wynn's mouth dropped open. “He never has curled into me or let me pet him!”

“He likes me. What can I say?” Roxie stroked his head and ears with a smug look on her face.

Wynn lifted the lid. Inside was a faded blue jean school bag with appliquéd A, B, Cs and 1, 2 ,3s and smiling children, a schoolhouse and a bright sun. It made her cringe.

“I used that to carry my papers when I taught elementary school.” Roxie gushed. “And now it's yours to carry your sophomore class papers in.”

“How nice.” Wynn mustered up her best fake smile. “Thank you. I shall think of you each time I carry it. I have a question for you before I turn out the light.”

“All right.”

Wynn picked up the small music box and turned it on. “I found this in a tin in my jeep weeks ago. Do you happen to know anything about it?”

“I might.” Roxie stood and placed Sailor on the coverlet. He jumped off and slid under the bed again. In a minute Roxie returned with a wooden box.

“I remember seeing that on your dresser.” Wynn pushed up in bed.

Roxie placed the small music box inside the larger wooden box. Then she wound it up. Faith of Our Fathers played. Wynn's eyes grew large. “Why was it removed?”

“Because I wanted you to remember what it was like between us. I wanted you to listen to the tune, the words, and regain your childhood faith.” Roxie laid it on the nightstand. “It's yours, now. It's done its job.” Roxie kissed her goodnight.

Wynn turned out the light.

 

****

 

Wynn walked down the hall with a new purse she wasn't so sure she liked in one hand, and the school bag in the other.

In the kitchen, Wynn heard the familiar singing voice, soft and melodious, although older now and filled with cracks. Roxie was singing ‘Faith of Our Fathers'.

A sense of the past returned—a dizzying flash of uncontrollable memories. Wynn remembered everything perfectly. Aunt Roxie's eyes, her voice when she sang. It hadn't been Ruth who sang to her whenever she needed comforting, it had been Aunt Roxie.

Wynn had it all wrong; it was mixed-up in the mind of a child. It was Roxie's tenderness that stayed with her and kept her all those years, calling her back until she returned.

“Wow, you really look nice in that suit.” Roxie tugged at Wynn's sleeves and pulled the material up at the shoulders.

“I feel odd.”

“You only look odd because you are showing that you feel odd. Loosen up!”

“It's a skirt. I have on a skirt and nylons.”

“Yes and you look lovely. Sit. Eat your breakfast. I want to take a picture of you for the timeline!”

Wynn stood against the wall and smiled.

“Now, it's time for a new picture!” Roxie held up her camera.

“You need to update your cell phone to one with a camera and get a printer.”

“Never you mind. Stand still, because I am taking the picture right now.” Roxie smiled proudly, and then taped it to the wall where it said, First Day of School. “I may have missed the first day of your going to school growing up, but I shall never miss another.”

Wynn closed the back door and went out to the car. On the seat next to her, Wynn placed her teacher's book bag. Inside she had her lesson plans for the week and a sack lunch. Jittery with nerves, she prayed for wisdom.

At the end of this very long, nerve-racking day, she'd meet Doug on the beach for dinner. They'd roast hot dogs over an open flame, and follow that up with s'mores – the gooey graham cracker, marshmallow and chocolate treat of campfires far and wide. If the rain held off, they'd watch the sky and hope for shooting stars. Before going home, she'd tell him about her first day as the new Biology teacher at Willow High School, if he was interested. She was in love with the sea, but she was also in love with him.

Doug was in love with her, too. He'd told her so, and though they'd not made plans yet, a wedding was on the horizon.

The sun was barely up and the grass still wet and polished with dew. Wynn drove along the curve of the drive that passed through the orchard where the air was heavy with the scent of apples from the trees that dotted Aunt Roxie's property. The morning glory vine that covered the fence had died away from the first frost. At the crest of the drive, she braked for the little fox that ran across the road ahead.

And with that, summer had slipped away.

 

 

 

Thank you for purchasing this White Rose Publishing title. For other inspirational stories, please visit our on-line bookstore at
www.pelicanbookgroup.com
.

 

For questions or more information, contact us at [email protected].

 

White Rose Publishing

Where Faith is the Cornerstone of Love™

an imprint of Pelican Ventures Book Group

www.PelicanBookGroup.com

 

Connect with Us

www.facebook.com/Pelicanbookgroup

www.twitter.com/pelicanbookgrp

 

To receive news and specials, subscribe to our bulletin

http://pelink.us/bulletin_

 

May God's glory shine through

this inspirational work of fiction.

 

AMDG