Page 55 of Love Story
“Your mom was the most amazing woman.” Landon admired the restored pitcher. “Anything to save a dollar for the family.”
A memory was coming back to Ashley. Luke had thrown the football across the room and hit the pitcher, knocking it to the floor and breaking it. “She was careful with money, but that wasn’t what it was.” She stared at the pitcher, seeing the moment again in her mind. “My mom was going to throw it away, but she stopped herself. I can still see her holding up the pieces.”
The scene was becoming clearer still. “She didn’t get mad or anything. She just set it on the counter and asked Luke to find some superglue.”
Landon was quiet, a slight smile on his lips. “I can imagine that.”
Ashley held up the pitcher once more. “As soon as it was put together and dry, she called us over. All five of us.” Ashley ran her finger over the repaired cracks. “She told us she was going to keep it forever.”
“Forever?” Landon stood beside her, looking at the pitcher. “I guess she kept her promise.”
A smile tugged at Ashley’s lips. “She always did.” Ashley could see her mother again, young and healthy and full of life lessons. “She told us the repaired pitcher was an illustration of God’s grace. The way he saw us. We would have broken times in life. Times when we threw a ball where we shouldn’t and next thing you knew something very precious was lying on the ground in pieces.”
She remembered more from that day. “My mom set it on the table in the living room, where it stayed for the longest time. She told us God would always put the pieces back together if we were willing. The end result might not look exactly as it did before, but it would be beautiful all the same.”
Her mother’s voice came to her. “Beautifully broken. That’s what she called it.” Ashley smiled at Landon, her eyes damp. “Beautifully broken.”
“I like that.” He looked at the pitcher. “Might be time to get it out of the garage.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” She carried the pitcher to the door. “I’ll run it inside.”
She had some pottery sealant in her art room. Tomorrow she could give the cracks a quick once-over. She might even use it for their Sunday morning brunches. Her kids would love the story. Something special, something to remind them of their grandma.
They were halfway through the boxes, but Ashley had grown quieter than before. Thinking about her mom and the pitcher, and the story her father had been telling them every Thursday. No wonder she wanted to save the broken vessel.
It probably reminded her of herself.
“You okay?” Landon knew her. He always knew.
“Just thinking about my parents. The broken pieces of their story, I guess.” She gave Landon a wistful look. “I always knew the broad strokes of what happened back then. But I guess I didn’t imagine the details.”
“They were human. Like all of us.”
“Yes. Very true.” She paused for a moment. “When I came back from Paris I thought I was the worst person in the world. And I was finished with God and my family. You know why?”
“You were angry and afraid.” He came to her and took hold of her hands. They were both covered in dust and dirt from their work date, but it didn’t matter.
“Yes. But more than that. I thought God and my family were through with me. I couldn’t imagine any of them ever doing something like I’d done.” She shrugged, her smile soft. “How wrong was I?”
Landon ran his thumbs along the tops of her hands. “Your parents had a rough start. That’s for sure.”
She’d been keeping him apprised each week as her dad told another part of his story. But somehow here, finding the pitcher brought the cycle of things all together. “Somehow they survived it. I can’t wait to hear the next piece of the story.”
“Yes.” Landon searched her eyes. “What about Cole? Anything more from him?”
“Not since last time.” She sighed and turned to the unopened box on the table. “I wish I knew how to beginthatconversation.”
Landon removed the lid and together they peered inside. Dozens ofVHStapes—all of them from a National Geographic series on world wars. Something her father had been interested in for a few years way back. “Goodwill?”
“Definitely.” She laughed. “My dad. Such a passionate guy. No matter what he cares about, he’s all in.”
They made their way through a few more boxes, broken toys and old bedding. Newspapers from decades ago. An easy quiet fell over them, and after a while Landon took a deep breath. “Hey, Ash, I have an idea.” He smiled. “Why don’t you practice on me?”
“Practice?” She grinned at him.
“Hey, hey... come on. That kind can wait.” He laughed, and then his face grew more serious. “I mean tell me what you’re going to tell Cole. You can practice on me. Go ahead.”
Ashley hadn’t thought about that before. She liked the idea. “Okay.” She stood a little straighter. “Where do I begin?”
