Every Waking Moment
Read Every Waking Moment Online
Authors: Chris Fabry
Praise for Chris Fabry
Borders of the Heart
“A thoroughly enjoyable read. . . . Chris Fabry is a masterful storyteller.”
CBA RETAILERS+RESOURCES
“In this edge-of-your-seat romantic suspense, all of the characters ring true. . . .”
BOOKLIST
, STARRED REVIEW
“In this suspense-filled drama, Fabry covers hot topics. . . . Readers will be immersed in the lives of Maria and J. D.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
“[
Borders of the Heart
is] character driven with strong characters facing moral dilemmas.”
LIBRARY JOURNAL
“Ups the ante for fans of Fabry’s high-charged, emotionally driven fiction by adding a strong suspense thread.”
Not in the Heart
“A story of hope, redemption, and sacrifice. . . . It’s hard to imagine inspirational fiction done better than this.”
WORLD
MAGAZINE
“Christy Award–winning Fabry has written a nail-biter with plenty of twists and turns. Fans of Jerry B. Jenkins and Jodi Picoult might want to try this title.”
LIBRARY JOURNAL
“A fine piece of storytelling. . . . Down to its final pages,
Not in the Heart
is a gripping read. While the mystery at its core is compelling, it’s Wiley’s inner conflict that’s truly engrossing.”
“This absorbing novel should further boost Fabry’s reputation as one of the most talented authors in Christian fiction.”
CBA RETAILERS+RESOURCES
“The best book I have read in a long time. The plot is unique and creative . . . [and] manages to keep the reader hanging until the last page.”
Almost Heaven
“[A] mesmerizing tale . . . [
Almost Heaven
] will surprise readers in the best possible way; plot twists unfold and unexpected character transformations occur throughout this tender story.”
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“Fabry has a true gift for prose, and [
Almost Heaven
] is amazing. . . . You’ll most definitely want to move this to the top of your ‘to buy’ list.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
, 4½-STAR TOP PICK REVIEW
“Fabry is a talented writer with a lilting flow to his words.”
June Bug
“[
June Bug
] is a stunning success, and readers will find themselves responding with enthusiastic inner applause.”
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“An involving novel with enough plot twists and dramatic tension to keep readers turning the pages.”
BOOKLIST
“I haven’t read anything so riveting and unforgettable since
Redeeming Love
by Francine Rivers. . . . A remarkable love story, filled with sacrifice, hope, and forgiveness!”
NOVEL REVIEWS
“Precise details of places and experiences immediately set you in the story, and the complex, likable characters give
June Bug
the enduring quality of a classic.”
Dogwood
“[
Dogwoo
d
] is difficult to put down, what with Fabry’s surprising plot resolution and themes of forgiveness, sacrificial love, and suffering.”
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“Ultimately a story of love and forgiveness, [
Dogwood
] should appeal to a wide audience.”
CBA RETAILERS+RESOURCES
“Solidly literary fiction with deep, flawed characters and beautiful prose,
Dogwood
also contains a mystery within the story that adds tension and a deepening plot.”
NOVEL REVIEWS
Visit Tyndale online at
www.tyndale.com
.
Visit Chris Fabry’s website at
www.chrisfabry.com
.
TYNDALE
and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Every Waking Moment
Copyright © 2013 by Chris Fabry. All rights reserved.
Cover photograph of leaves copyright © Dmytro Tolokonov/Veer. All rights reserved.
Cover photograph of woman taken by Stephen Vosloo. Copyright © by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.
Designed by Beth Sparkman
Edited by Sarah Mason
Published in association with Creative Trust Literary Group, 5141 Virginia Way, Suite 320, Brentwood, Tennessee 37027,
www.creativetrust.com
.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible,
New International Version
,
®
NIV
.
®
Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.
™
Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.
www.zondervan.com
.
Ephesians 1:18, quoted in chapter 18, and Scripture quoted in chapter 43 are taken from the
Holy Bible
, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007, 2013 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
Every Waking Moment
is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Fabry, Chris, date.
Every waking moment / Chris Fabry.
pages cm
SBN 978-1-4143-4863-6 (sc)
1. Caregivers
—Fiction. 2. Frail elderly
—Fiction. 3. Mental healing
—Fiction. 4. Dementia
—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3556.A26E94 2013
813'.54
—dc23 2013017344
ISBN 978-1-4143-8871-7 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-4143-8410-8 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-4143-8872-4 (Apple)
Build: 2013-08-08 17:41:11
To Tricia, Nate, and Annabel “Annie” Wren McMillan. With love.
And to Elsie Young.
It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON
When you are Real, you don’t mind being hurt.
MARGERY WILLIAMS
,
The Velveteen Rabbit
Contents
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 6
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 4
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 9
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 15
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 12
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 3
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 11
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 19
Streams from Desert Gardens: Outtake 1
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 23
Streams from Desert Gardens: Scene 31
Before
TREHA IMAGINED IT
like this: A summer afternoon. Her mother’s satin dress billowing. Fully leaved, green trees swaying. Crossing a busy street.
“Keep up with me, Treha,” her mother said.
Looking into the sunlight, she saw the silhouette of her mother’s face with beads of sweat on her lip and the wide-brimmed hat casting shade. Her mother not quite smiling but showing dazzling teeth. Deep-red lipstick. Like a movie star with a hint of concern on her face.
Momentum carried them to the sidewalk and the corner shop with the tinkling bell as they passed the red bricks and moved into the cool, sweet air smells and bright colors under a sign that said
Ice Cream
.
Her mother led her to the glass case that held the containers. Treha stood on tiptoes but wasn’t tall enough to see over the edge, so her mother picked her up and held her, letting her hover above the colors. She pointed out the ones with dark specks and those with pecans and pralines or cookies or M&M’s.
“Which one would you like? The orange? Yellow? Don’t take all day now.”
The man behind the counter wore a white apron and wiped
his hands and smiled. Behind him on the wall was a clock with a fish symbol in the middle and a second hand that jerked around the face.
Treha chose the pink, purple, and yellow all mixed together, and her mother put her on the floor. Treha studied the tile, the way the patterns worked together in threes. Triangles that made up squares that made up bigger triangles and squares. Black-and-white patterns she could see when she closed her eyes.
“Cone or cup?” the man said.
“Cup,” she said quickly, like she knew the cup lasted longer. You got more ice cream that way and less all over you.
“You’re a smart girl,” her mother said, sitting her on a chair next to a round table. The top was green and smooth and cool to the touch. “And so pretty.”
There was something in her mother’s eye that she wiped away. Dust? A bit of water?
The man brought the cup filled to overflowing, with a plastic spoon standing at attention. Her mother paid him and he went back to the register, then returned to them.
“How old is she?” the man said, handing her mother the change.
“Almost two.”
“Adorable. She’s a living doll.”
He spoke as if Treha weren’t there, as if she were an inanimate object incapable of understanding words.
Her mother knelt on the tile arranged in threes, the design continuing to infinity. She dabbed a napkin at the corners of Treha’s mouth. As hard as Treha tried to stay neat and clean, she always got the ice cream on her face and hands and dress. Maybe that was why it happened. She was adorable and a doll but too much trouble.
“I need to step out. You wait here, okay?”
Treha studied her as she took another spoonful and carefully placed it in her mouth.
Her mother kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear, “I love you, my sweet princess.”
She said something with her eyes before she stood but Treha could not decipher the message. Something between the words, something behind the stare, interconnected but dangling, like a loose thread in an unwanted scarf.
The bell jingled behind her and Treha looked back long enough to see her mother disappear into traffic, lost in sunlight.
When she finished the ice cream, the man came to the table and took the cup. “Where’s your mama?”
She stared at him with those brown eyes, wide like saucers. Milky-white skin untainted by the sun. Ice cream spots on her pretty dress that she tried to wipe away but couldn’t.
“You want another scoop?”
She shook her head. Her chin puckered. Somehow she knew. The world had tilted a little. She was alone.
The man walked to the door and looked out. Scratched his head with the brim of the white hat, then put it back on.
Treha swung her legs from the chair and looked at the sign behind the counter, the lines that connected to form words she did not understand. Words on walls and hats and buildings and cars. Letters bunched in threes and fours and more to make sentences and stories. Her story. The one she didn’t know. The one she tried hard to remember but never could. The one she had to make up.