Page 147 of Share with Me
Chapter Forty-Six
“He won’t come out.” At the bottom of the stairs, Yun McMillan tried to mask her pensiveness. “Maybe it’s the painkillers.”
“You think that’s making him sleep this much?” Brinley counted to ten and then knocked on the door again. “Ivan? It’s me.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t wake him up.”
“That’s what you said Thursday when I called, Yun.” Today was Saturday and Ivan still didn’t want to see Brinley. She wondered what was going on. What was making Ivan lock himself away from the world?
“I’m sure he’s not starving,” Yun offered.
“Yeah, you mentioned the food wrappers in the trash can at night.”
Yun shifted in her electric wheelchair. She looked older now than the week before. Brinley couldn’t believe that Ivan could be this heartless, letting his grandmother fend for herself. She made a mental note to get Yun some help.
For now, this minute, she had a bigger problem. An oversized child was ensconced behind that old wooden door, and the only way to break in was to destroy part of the old oak panels, circa 1900, and she couldn’t do that if the integrity of this historical home were to be preserved.
I don’t have time for this.
It had been a mentally exhausting week for Brinley. She had spent the entire week dealing with a squabbling contractor and designer rushing to complete her new house. Add to that the paperwork required to purchase Brooks Renovations, stocks and all, from Dad. As nice and as generous as Dad was, he wasn’t about to give away his pet company for next to nothing. The multimillion-dollar deal went through in the end, even though Brinley knew the bills from her business attorneys would be tremendous.
Still, Dad could now continue to support Mom’s expensive buying habits with those extra millions. Market value of the company.
Thank God it’s done now.
All she had wanted was to kick back and relax, but that wasn’t meant to be the moment she received Yun’s text this morning.
Brinley banged on the door again. “Ivan! Lunch is getting cold.”
A muffled noise. Then: “I’ll eat later.”
“He’s alive.” Brinley sighed. She went downstairs. “When do they ever grow up?”
“Men in general or musicians?” Yun chuckled.
“Is that an indictment of yourself?”
“Brin, there is always a child in us, that carefree spirit of wanting everything to be beautiful and nice and lovely. Life is not always that way. Ivan is handling his pain and difficulty badly, but I hope you don’t think all Christians behave this way.”
“We all have different stages of spiritual maturity. I get that. What I don’t get is this. Why on earth, with God’s power, do we wallow in misery, thinking the world has ended?”
“The world as Ivan knew it has ended. Violin is all he knows since he was four.”
“I’m sure he’s more than just a violinist.”
“You and I know that. But does he?” Yun wheeled toward the kitchen. “We’ll need patience with him.”
“And prayer.” Brinley followed Yun. At the island, she unpacked the Southern Soul Barbecue boxes.
“Indeed. Lots of patience and prayer.” Yun headed for her CD player on the counter next to her old refrigerator. “And maybe a slap upside the head.”
“For sure.” Brinley laughed.
Yun tried to swap out a CD from her player, but the buttons didn’t work. Brinley stopped divvying up the beef brisket and Brunswick stew to go help her.
“Looks like it’s broken.” Brinley read the CD cover. Hymns. “Okay. Let’s eat while it’s hot and I’ll play some of these songs for you on the piano. How does that sound?”
“You don’t have the sheet music.”
