We are so fortunate to survive nature’s fury. Bless the volunteers who repeatedly rescue victims of fire at the New Jersey shore and the floods in Colorado. Don’t take anything for granted, folks.
Thanks for your comments. You help boost this writer’s confidence each week.
And now for my eight. I continue with Sin of Omission. Stunned to find he’s the father of twins, Jimmy Costigan has a lot of questions for Shelley Jackson, the woman he’s loved since the moment he saw her. He asks, “Who guided you?”
“A former Jesuit priest, Kirk Richards, helped me prayed for guidance and right or wrong, here we are. I don’t expect financial support or marriage,” Shelley took a deep breath, “all I want is for you to help me name them.”
Devoid of expression, Jimmy leaned in close, eyes narrowed, he said, “Why, you’ve done it all without me; name them yourself.”
“I want to be able to tell them their daddy chose the names; names are important.”
“So you didn’t think I was man enough to hear the truth, strong enough to accept responsibility and finish school but just a kid to be protected from life, huh?” His long hair fell across his face as he scowled, “We hardly know each other and now there are two more of us. You’ve had nine months to think and I’ve had less than a minute;” he stared down at his boots and recalled the only one who taught him a lot back in Utah; “Luke, Lucas; your turn.”
“Jacob,” Shelley said in a whisper, the second name caught the breeze to join the first, “Jake.”
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