Out of despair into hope
Abby hesistated. Only one person wore such high heels.
Were those muffled sobs coming from Nina? Did Miss Prettier than anyone has a right to be have a few chinks in her armor?
The polite thing would be to pretend she hadnít heard. But was the polite thing the right thing?
What is proper office protocol when a peon hears her manager crying in a bathroom stall. Surely Nina didnít want to be disturbed.
Out of fear into peace.
"Nina, are you all right?"
"Nina, itís Abby. I couldnít help but overhear. Is there anything I can do for you."
"Can you ask Rick to cover for me? I canít go back to work."
"Sure, Iíll be right back."
Abby unlocked her stall door, washed her hands and relayed Ninaís message to her floor supervisor.
"Nina, Rick said to take the afternoon off. Iím done for the day. Would you like to go talk somewhere?"
"I donít want to bother you."
"Itís no bother. Come on, I know just the spot."
Out of cold, into warmth.
Abby felt totally out of her element and berated herself for making such a rash offer. What did she have in common with the well-dressed, type A, office manager of the year sitting in her passenger seat?
She handed their drinks to Nina and reached for the bag of food the Taco Bell employee handed out the drive up window. She drove to the back, less popular side of Split Rock Park. The peaceful quiet began to weave its soothing spell.
Abby took a bite. "I have a weak spot for bean burritos."
"I eat chalupas at least twice a week." Nina gave a strained smile. "Gorditas are pretty good too."
Out of darkness into light
Nina ate two more bites, then took a drink. "I suppose I owe you an explanation."
"You donít owe me anything. But if it helps to talk, Iím willing to listen."
"My sister died a year ago today. Breast cancer. Quick and vicious. Thought Iíd be okay but Iím obviously not."
Concern flooded Abbyís voice. "Iím so sorry. How old was she?"
Nina wadded her napkin. "35. What a waste."
"Was she married?"
"Divorced." Nina massaged her neck. "What bothered me most today is my sister got religious before she died. Her whole countenance changed. Said she wasnít afraid to die. She wanted me to believe too, but I couldnít. I was too mad at God for letting her get sick. She made me promise Iíd look into faith." Nina folded her arms. "I promised. And I havenít done one stinking thing about it." Nina looked up. "Do you believe in God?"
Abby put her empty wrappers into the bag. "Yeah, I do. Do you?"
"Didnít used to. But the thought of Monica rotting into nothingness isnít sitting well." Nina stopped to blow her nose. "Iím not sleeping at night. I miss her so much. If you know what I need to do to see Monica again, will you tell me?
Abby reached into her cluttered back seat for a black leather Bible. "Gladly."
Out of sin and into grace
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