Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Read the beginning of Peggy Blann Phifer's "Moorings" RIGHT NOW!!!!!!
Sweetland, Arkansas, May, Graduation Day
Rozene Carson stirred as the rays of the early morning sun teased her eyelids. Not quite willing to allow full wakefulness, she rolled over on the bed and pressed her body into the curve of her sleeping husband’s back, absorbing his warmth for just a few more minutes.
She marveled again at the miracle of this man beside her. Mike Carson–tall and lean, yet muscular, clean-shaven, with short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, amazing blue eyes, and a ready smile–the pastor of the Sweetland Assembly of God Church.
In ten days, she and Mike would be celebrating their five-month wedding anniversary. So different from her life barely a year ago, when she’d been a lonely, bitter widow with no friends and only a restaurant to occupy her time. Gentry’s Family Restaurant, a business she’d once run together with her late husband, Ross Gentry, was now her sole responsibility.
A change in Mike’s breathing told her he was waking up. She pulled back a bit as he turned in her arms and kissed her soundly.
“Good morning, my beautiful Cherokee Rose,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Are you ready to face this memorable day?”
“Not if you keep kissing me like that, sir.”
Rozene laughed and twisted away, “Ah, yes, there is that. But you, of all people, should know preachers are not supposed to give in to temptation.” She gave him a quick peck on the check and threw back the covers.
“And you’re right. We do have a big day ahead of us and it’s time to get up and tackle it.”
Mike propped himself up on his elbow and rested his head on his hand. “You, lovely wife of mine, are a cold, cold-hearted woman,” Mike said, followed by a ridiculous imitation of a pout.
“And you, rascally love of my life, know better,” she retorted with a wink.
He sighed and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. “Lord, am I doomed to always lose this marriage game of one-upmanship?”
Rozene smirked. “Be sure and tell me what He says, sometime. Now I’ve got to get over to the restaurant. I’ll probably be there for the next two hours or so. Shake the girls out of bed and bring them over for breakfast when they’re ready, okay?”
~ ~ ~
As Rozene reached the foot of the stairs, the front doorbell sounded, startling her. Who on earth would come calling at this early hour? She went through the hall into the front room to answer just as Mike came pounding down the stairs.
“Oh, Rozie, I thought you’d left already. Who’s there?”
“No, idea,” she answered as the bell rang once again. “but I think we’d better find out, huh?”
Mike stepped in front of her and opened the door. A forty-something couple stood there whom Rozene immediately recognized as Ian and Christine Severin, Desiree’s parents. Their faces were drawn and haggard, and who could blame them after their daughter drowned in the Sweetwater River the night of the Senior Prom.
“Of course,” Mike said, swinging the door wider. “You have our deepest sympathies on the loss of your daughter.”
“Thank you, Pastor. In fact, Desiree is the reason we are here this morning.”
“May I offer you some coffee, or tea?” Rozene asked as she led them into the living room, even though she’d have to make it fresh, and it would delay her getting to work.
“No, we won’t be here that long, but thank you,” Mrs. Severin answered, sitting ramrod straight on the edge of one of the Queen Anne chairs. Her husband remained standing.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Mr. Severin began. “We refused to accept the possibility
our daughter committed suicide. Call it pride, or arrogance, whatever you wish. We didn’t even go into Desiree’s room until last week. When we did…we found a note.”
Rozene nearly choked, holding back the gasp she felt would be rude and out of place.
“I see,” Mike said, but nothing else, waiting.
“In the note, she admitted tampering with the car with an unnamed accomplice, but exonerated Alexis and Tiffany. She’d been humiliated when Jonathan asked Misty to the prom and not her. Jealous, even though she freely said she didn’t want Jonathan, but she didn’t want Misty to have him, either.
“When she saw what happened when that wheel fell off and realized everyone in the car could have been killed, on the last line she wrote how much she hated herself and didn’t want to live any longer.”
Sorrow and compassion squeezed Rozene’s heart. “Oh, the poor g—”
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If you would like to try the series and want to start with "Volume 1-Undercurrents" here is the Amazon Kindle link:http://www.amazon.com/Sweetwater-River-Peggy-Blann-Phifer-ebook/dp/B00WJ9HPIK/ref=sr_1_1?
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