Washed by K. Cowan (best love novels of all time TXT) 📖

piece she had listed on her gift registry, and had lovingly opened them and placed them in the hutch that her grandma had left to her. Those dishes were so beautiful. She was surprised at how easily they broke. One moment they were beautiful plates, the next moment shattered so thoroughly that you never would have known what they were in the first place.
After the last piece of wedding china had been destroyed, she sat down at her dining room table, breathless. She laid her soaked head on her shaky arms and sobbed quietly. She sat there, letting tears drip onto her arms and fall into a puddle on the table. She stayed there for a long time, allowing the tears to come, mostly because she was unable to stop them anymore. When she finally lifted her head, it was completely dark outside and even darker in the house. She could hear the rain steadily falling on her stoop through the kitchen door, which was still standing wide open. She took a deep breath. The rain made the house smell fresh. She turned on the lights in the kitchen and dining room, and surveyed the mess on her floor. She found her broom in the closet and swept the broken glass into a huge pile and began to scoop it into the trash can. As she was cleaning up the last bits, she noticed that the hardwood floor was scratched from the falling shards and that there were paths worn into the wood where people had constantly walked over the same spots for years. It was beat up and worn, but she thought about how beautiful it must have been when it was brand new. She wanted to make it look like new again.
Once the floor was free of porcelain fragments, she looked at the open door and debated about heading out into the darkness to retrieve her jacket, shoes and now useless cell phone. A low rumble of thunder prompted her to close the door and lock it instead. She headed to the kitchen cupboards and opened them up. Inside was another gift left to her by her grandmother. The old set of every day dishes that her grandparents had dined on together for almost sixty years were now her every day dishes. There was nothing fancy or particularly special about them. The pattern on them was called Village and it depicted farm scenes in muted green and brown tones. Some were chipped or cracked and others had stains from overheating, but she treasured them because she had been served so many lovingly prepared meals on them at her grandma’s table. She took every single piece out and moved them into the now empty spots in the hutch. Though old and faded, they looked beautiful now that they were in their rightful place. She smiled with satisfaction and turned off the lights.
She stood under the showerhead and marveled at how good she felt inside, despite the rotten day she had. Her dance in the rain and china party had been refreshing and she felt, for some reason, like a ton of bricks had been lifted off her chest. Her bed felt especially soft and cozy and the lamplight cast a warm glow over her bedroom. She found herself thinking about her grandma again and she reached over and picked up the Bible off of her nightstand. A pang of shame coursed through her as she reached for a tissue to dust it off. She hadn’t looked at that book, or even thought about it, at all lately. That is something her grandma would not be happy about. She opened it and the pages smelled familiar. Her grandma used to read passages to her right before bed, when she spent the night there. Then, Grandma would pray for her and kiss her softly on the cheek. She always drifted off peacefully when she stayed at Grandma and Grandpa’s. All she could specifically remember about the Bible was that her grandma liked to often read to her out of the book of Hebrews. She didn’t remember what it was about, but she turned there since it was the only reference point she had. She began reading verse after verse. Slowly, they rang familiar to her. She could almost hear her grandma’s gentle voice and smell her lavender perfume. The passages were comforting and before she knew it, she was in chapter ten. He eyes locked on verse twenty-two.: “let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.” She wasn’t sure about the “full assurance” of her faith and she especially knew that she had not been close to God in a long while, but something in those words pulled at her heartstrings. It was exactly how she felt---as if her heart had been sprinkled to cleanse her of a guilty conscience. Standing out there in her driveway, while the storm raged around her and the rain soaked her skin, she felt like she was being washed. She had felt a sense of freedom from all the things that had gone wrong in her life, whether she had caused them or not. It didn’t matter now, because she knew things didn’t have to stay the way they were. She closed the Bible and turned off her lamp. As she snuggled down into bed she noticed how quiet it was. The rain had finally stopped completely. The only remnant of the evening’s storm was a final flash of lightening, a quiet burst of brightness that filled her room before she closed her eyes in peaceful sleep.
When her alarm beeped the next morning, she didn’t press snooze as she had been in the habit of doing lately. She was dressed and pouring herself a cup of tea in record time. As she walked to her car, she was not one bit surprised that the sky was completely cloudless. On her drive to the office, she noticed how beautiful everything looked. She had not realized until now just how dry and dusty everything had gotten, but last night’s storm had done wonders. Though it was late fall, and all the leaves were almost now fallen, it seemed as if the very branches of the trees had been invigorated, standing at attention and relieved to be rid of the weight of the dead leaves. This was the first time since her first day on the job that she was actually excited to get to work--not because she thought her boss would have a sudden revelation that her research project had in fact been brilliant and that he was a pompous, self-absorbed jerk, though this would have definitely been enjoyable for her. No, she was glad to get there because she knew what she had to do. It made her cringe to admit it, but she knew that her boss was right. Her research paper had not been detailed enough because she had failed to put herself into it. Yes, she had explored the psychology of nomadic behavior in others, but wasn’t she a nomad herself, in a sense? She had left everything she ever knew and went to a new place to start something new for herself. Was it because she wanted this job so badly or because she was trying to run away from people, things, or situations that she was too scared to face? She needed a second chance to take these questions into consideration. Not because she wanted to prove her boss wrong, but because she wanted to know the answers to these questions.
When she calmly and boldly made her request to him in his office, he remained quiet for some time. He tried not to show it, but she sensed respect in his eyes. Finally, he granted her request and gave her another two weeks to polish her report. Before she stepped out of his office, she thanked him and assured him that she wouldn’t let him down. He was looking over some papers on his desk. He didn’t look up and his expression didn’t change. He simply replied, “I know.” Victory!
How different today was from yesterday. These were her thoughts as she ate lasagna off of her promoted china. After an hour of moving furniture out of her dining room and scrubbing the floors so they could be sanded, she took a warm shower and fell into bed. She picked up the Bible again, but before she opened it, she closed her eyes and imagined her grandma’s sweet face. Her grandma had spent so much time with her, not lecturing or scolding, but gently encouraging. And grandma had taught her about God and faith. She had lost her way, but she knew Grandma was watching over her, helping guide her back to where she needed to be. She was so thankful that she had known such a simple, caring woman. Everything about her had been beautiful, from her face and hair to her kind words and loving spirit. Even Grandma’s name was beautiful--Hope. She was honored to be her namesake. Now it was time to start living up to it. She opened the Bible.
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Publication Date: 10-13-2009

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