Inspirational Women's Fiction Sampler

by April Geremia

Joshua woke up the next morning disoriented. He rubbed his face and felt the marks from where he’d been pressed up against the earth the night before and then looked to the still, silent headstone and the ground that had made him feel so comforted. He quickly looked around, embarrassed that someone might have seen him sleeping there. I must look like a crazy person.

  But he had to admit the purging of his soul had done him good. He felt as if a burden had been lifted. Talking about his pain and everything he’d dealt with in his life had made him feel a little lighter, even if the person he spoke to wasn’t really there.

  He got up, looked around to make sure he was alone, and walked to his truck. He wanted to get home before the mail came so he could be there if another letter from his mother arrived.

  Once in his truck, he eased onto the paved road that would take him through town and back to his solitary house. The day was already sweltering and the sticky breeze blowing into his open window did little to relieve the heat. He drove past Island Grocery, the bait and tackle shop where he spent so much of his time, and then past Isabelle’s bookstore. He was surprised it wasn’t yet open. Isabelle rose early each morning with nothing on her mind except surrounding herself with books. He continued down Main, nodding to the familiar faces that shaped his memories, and when he arrived at the edge of town, almost to the small road that would take him to the beach and his house, Isabelle’s red curls came into focus.

  She strolled, back straight and arms stiff, along the walk like a child being forced into a doctor’s office. Even from a distance, Joshua could see the sadness that clung to her, dripped from her sleeves like the morning dew after a soggy night. He started to go to her, to beg her forgiveness and tell her about Edith and the horrible things she’d done, but then he saw him. Another man walked beside Isabelle in his place.

  He was tall, blonde, and had the good looks men in love fear. At first, Joshua thought they just happened to be walking in the same direction along a crowded boardwalk, but then he saw it. It was a small gesture, really, but monumental enough to force Joshua to pull his truck to the curb, not able to drive with his shaking hands and trembling heart. He saw a large muscular hand placed on the small of Isabelle’s back to guide her into the coffee shop.

  He’d lost her and he had no one to blame but himself.

  He put his hand on the door handle, started to pull it open and go to Isabelle and beg her to talk, to help him make sense of his life, but his fingers wouldn’t move, and no matter how hard he willed them to, they remained stubbornly frozen on the handle that would ultimately block him from his love.

  And then Joshua grieved. He grieved for the love that he would surely never feel again, for the moments that would never come and for the wasted ones of the past. He grieved for his future and what it could have been. For the words that were never spoken, the promises never fulfilled. And for his love, because he knew with absolute clarity he’d just watched his only hope for happiness walk through the door with another man’s hand touching the small of her back.

  It was that sense of defeat, that letting go of life that rode with Joshua as he drove home. He looked to the floor as he entered his house and was disappointed to find he hadn’t received any mail. Maybe the letters would stop now that his chance for happiness was gone.

  He moved to the back of the house, slid open the patio door and stepped onto the deck. He went to the railing and leaned into it, listening to the ocean breathe. It was there, as he stood with the wind on his face that he felt his life, his future collapse around him. Without Isabelle, he had no hope, no reason to make plans for the future. He shook his head in frustration. He’d brought it all on himself. She’d tried to tell him she needed more, and he hadn’t given it to her. Why?

  Was it a family curse? Now that he’d learned his mother had suffered the same fate, he wondered if it was possible that he would follow in her footsteps and be destined to be alone. All because something inside of him wouldn’t allow him to love. Or to be loved.

  He looked around, as if the sky or the ocean could solve the mystery, and then he heard it, the creak of the mail slot, the soft thud of the mail landing on the floor. Quickly, he went inside and his heart jumped when he saw the lavender rectangle in the bundle. He pulled it out and immediately ripped it open, not even bothering to go back outside and sit down.