Page 17 of Anchored to the Storm

“Yeah?” He turned to face me.

“Umm… Nothing.”

He studied me so hard I had to look away.

I heard him say, “I won’t go far, okay?”

My eyes snapped to his. How’d he know?

Relieved, but not wanting him to know it, I gave him a quick nod and headed inside, closing the door before I leaned against it. I took a long breath, as I told him I would, until I had the will to move again.

Finally able to put one foot in front of the other, habit had me reaching under the bathroom cabinet for the bleach spray. As I sprayed it in the shower, I suddenly remembered Blue being with me after her arrival, asking me why I bleached the bottom of the tub and drain before starting the water.

I chuckled, “Because I suspect the boys, when alone, do things in here. I don’t want to step in their—” I cringed, thinking this sweet little girl was clueless to what I was talking about.

Then I almost vomited when she nodded and said, “God’s seed. Yes. But if it’s okay for my mouth, why is it so bad for your feet?”

I gripped the tub so I wouldn’t crumble to the floor. The bleach bottle now on its side by my feet, my head hung as I told God, “I may never forgive you for what she went through on earth.” I stood, suddenly angry, pointing to the ceiling and the one I was blaming. “You better be treating her up there like the angel she was down here!” Disgusted, I wiped at tears I hadn’t realized I was shedding again. I held up my wet fingers to the Heavens. “Do you have a clue what you’re doing?”

Knock. Knock. “Sarah?” I looked to the door hearing Ethan. “You okay?”

His voice made my eyes close, and my lungs sigh. “Yes. Sorry. Only a bit of an outburst in here.”

His chuckle made a calmness wash over me. “Your fiery side is one of my favorites.”

I went to the door and laid my cheek against it. Exhaling—doing my best to rid myself of circumstances I was struggling even to comprehend—I assured him, “I’m okay.”

I’m so not okay.

Ethan warned, “Saaarah?”

Tears began to drip again, down my exhausted face. I leaned into the door, wishing it was him. “I can’t stop crying.”

“The crying is good. You not rinsing out the bleach and getting your ass in the shower isn’t.”

I pushed off the door, scrunching my nose. “You know about the bleach?”

“I know a lot when it comes to you. Shower. Now.”

Now I snarled. “Whatever, Johnny-Two.”

The bathroom light seemed way too bright and far too cheerful as I stripped off my clothes and turned on the water. Steam began to fill the bathroom as I stared into the mirror, making a face at myself as I noticed my puffy, red eyes.

With a sigh, I stepped into the shower, closing my eyes and letting the hot water do its best to relax the tension I could feel in my back and shoulders—every damn part of me. Keeping them closed, I turned around to face the wall and the steady stream of water, with my head lowered, as the warmth cascaded over me.

Ethan was right. This is just what I needed.

My eyes finally opened. However, what I saw made me blink repeatedly. I thought my eyes were damaged from crying so much! It was the only explanation for seeing the luminous, lightly sparkling water washing over me and around me as if I were bathing in dancing stars.

Suddenly, my mind replayed something Johnny had asked me last night. “You think I’m nuts?”

He had shared some details about an accident with his father. And who had saved him. And what he had seen ever since.

I lifted my hand in awe. “Woooooow.” I watched the cascade of twinkles dance on my hand and drip to the tub. “It’s magical,” I whispered, “like shimmering turquoise and sapphire.”

The more they touched me, the more my anxiety, sorrow, and pain melted away. Almost like they evaporated because the feelings couldn’t exist in the awe of such a mesmerizing display. Not only was there immense beauty, but something else was present within the sparkles. It was as if this water knew secrets and was sharing them with me, exposing a wild splendor few ever got the chance to experience. But it also shared a comforting feeling that resembled an embrace of sorts.

In this presence’s grasp, I took a deep, grateful breath because I finally didn’t feel so utterly alone.