Just to See You Smile Read Online Free

“Okay.” She gave them both a brave smile and a thumbsup. “I’m out of here.”
    â€œSee you, Britte!”
    She ran down the street to her Jeep. Not waiting for it to warm up, she drove past the house and waved at the couple still standing outside the front door.
    What she was going to horribly miss was their common ground. Isabel led a Bible study for high school girls. Some of them Britte had coached; all had been in at least one of her math classes. Though the group was unaware of it, the two women bathed them in prayer.
    There was going to be a hole in the community.
    A few blocks from Isabel’s, Britte pulled into her own driveway and pressed the automatic garage opener. The yard looked so bare this time of year, except for the junipers hugging the far corner of the house. Above the roof the backyard’s massive sycamore was visible, a few giant leaves still clinging to its branches. In front, the two maples’ barren limbs rocked slowly in the wind.
    Britte liked her house. It was one level, with three bedrooms, the third being only slightly larger than the bathroom, the ideal size for an antique library table and school-related paraphernalia. There was a wonderful old fireplace in the living room, its brick chimney running up the outside beside the front door, which was recessed in a brick arch. The dining room also faced the front. Its diamondpaned windows reflected the corner streetlamp already burning in the dark late afternoon.
    She had bought the house three years ago when the owner, Great-Aunt Mabel Olafsson, passed away. Of course the transaction was a good deal because her dad had inherited it along with three other nephews, none of whom wanted to keep it. As of last month, the house had belonged to a Miss Olafsson for 43 years. It carried a legacy as well as a bit of a stigma. Mabel Olafsson had been a beloved Valley Oaks kindergarten teacher for ages. She had also been a “miss” for eight and a half decades.
    Britte drove into the attached garage, closed it up, and hurried into the kitchen. She was a few months shy of three decades. Although it disturbed her mother, Britte wasn’t overly concerned at the thought of following in Great-Aunt Mabel’s “old maid” footsteps. As a teacher, Britte’s life overflowed with activity, challenge, and young people. What else was there?
    She flipped on lights and pushed up the thermostat on her way to her bedroom. Shedding her warm-up jacket, she pulled on a thick sweatshirt and then returned to stand in the living room in front of a heat register, looking out at the darkening backyard, waiting for the warmth to reach her bones.
    â€œI know You love me, Lord.”
    Her parents had taught her everything about Jesus, but it was Great-Aunt Mabel who embodied His boundless, passionate love for students.
    Britte shivered and crossed her arms. A feeling of uncertainty hovered. Not a common occurrence. Time to check the emotional barometer, girl!
    Life was satisfying. Teaching and coaching consumed her in the way that whitewater rafting in the Rockies left her breathless and exhilarated. When she wasn’t engaged at school, she was, generally speaking, a loner and she liked that. Tonight she would watch a favorite video, eat popcorn, and snuggle up with Brady’s latest five chapters he had asked her to critique.
    Snuggle up with a stack of printer paper?
    She shivered again.
    This feeling must be from telling Isabel goodbye…from hanging out with only couples…well, not counting General Kingsley, but then he didn’t count any which way…from the thought of turning 30… Loner was distinctly different from lonesome.
    â€œJesus, I know You’re with me. I know I am the love of Your life. Sit with me tonight?”
    The furnace heat rolled up from the register now, surrounding her with a comforting warmth. She replayed the day’s events.
    Breakfast with Mom and Dad and younger