Barbara's Plea Read Online Free Page A

my hours of work. With the blanket hanging over it, I could keep it close without the constant painful reminders.
    With a roll of my shoulders and a quick hefty intake of air, I whipped the blanket off the chair and watched as the dust motes danced through the air.
    The moment the honey-colored wood came into view, my heart clenched in my chest. I stared at the high board on the back that would support the head and let my fingers trail gently over the scroll work as a memory of my wife doing the same rushed forward.
    Not going there, I thought as I shook the memory away and lifted the chair to take it to Gloria.
    She turned from the small window out of which she had been staring and stepped forward, “Oh, my.”
    I set the chair down on top of the cracked linoleum of my kitchen floor and stepped back. Gloria inspected it closely before she let her fingertips graze over the top. “May I sit in it?”
    “Of course.” I stepped further back to make it easier for her to have a seat.
    “You are very talented, Grey. Do you use a pattern or is this freehand?” She pointed to scroll work for which I had used a router to engrave the top part of the rocking chair before she sat down.
    “Depends,” I leaned against the small counter behind me, crossing my arms nervously over my chest. “For the rocking chair, I sketched the design freehand and then carved it, but with other things, like a table and chair set I’ve made, I used a template so they were all the same.”
    She rocked back and forth slowly, while her hands lay on the arm rails. “Very smooth movement.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Do you have pictures of the toy box you made for Nate?” she asked as she leaned her head back.
    I cleared my throat, “Actually, I still have that, too.”
    She stopped rocking, “Well then, where is it? I want to see it.”
    “It’s right here,” I pointed to the small living room area. In front of my battered beige couch was a rectangle box hidden under a gray towel. “I didn’t have a coffee table,” I said lamely.
    I removed the small pile of bills that were stacked neatly on top and lifted the towel that served as table cover. Gloria stepped up beside me.
    “Oh, Grey, that is much more beautiful in person,” she exclaimed. “What exquisite work you do.”
    “Thank you, Gloria.” I stared down at the lid where I had carved baseball bats, fire trucks, and his name. With the cloth off the wood, the memories filled my mind as if I had opened a bottle of pine cleaner and the scent, so pungent, would have brought tears to my eyes. There was no cleaner to blame for the wetness that I blinked back.
    She sank down on her haunches and lifted the lid. The hinges squeaked softly from lack of use. “This is so beautiful.”
    If I had spoken, my voice would have cracked, so I stayed silent.
    Gloria tilted her head back to look up at me, “May I take a few photos of these?”
    “Sure,” I replied. “What are you going to do with them?”
    “I want to show them to someone and see if they will work for my project. I am almost positive that they will, and if they do, I am going to have a very big job for you.”
    “Are you serious, Gloria? You’re not doing this out of some kind of charity, are you?”
    She laughed, “Grey, you are the last person to whom I would want to give charity. You are too proud to accept such, but a job—a job, you can accept.” She stood up and rummaged in her purse, pulling out her cellphone. She snapped a few pictures of the toy box and then the chair. She delved into her purse again and pulled out a small leather wallet. She took out a business card and wrote something on the back before she handed it to me.
    “My home address is on the back. I’d like for you to come by my house tomorrow morning, and we can discuss this further.” She hit a button on her cellphone before putting it to her ear.
    “Gloria, I don’t know what to say.”
    She held up a finger, “Mike, can you please pull around?