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JoDee Neathery Books

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A Kind of Hush

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“Gabriel Edward Mackie, born with soulful maturity and an intrinsic sense of empathy, gazed at life through a poetic contemplative lens relishing the plangent sounds of the wind dancing through the trees during a thunderstorm, inhaling the nutty scent of roasted peanuts at the ballpark, and firmly believing that if he stretched his arms high enough, he could touch his dreams. Driven by his keen curiosity, ability to find a silver lining in the darkest cloud, and vision, he spent boundless energy revering nature’s rarities like the spidery veins in between rose petals and a heron’s powder down feathers.”

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“Margo tilted her head toward her husband asking, “What is it about beach volleyball that captures your attention?” More than anything I’m amazed how they’re able to keep everything in the proper place when spiking the ball. Makes me want to invest in spandex . . . and of course, their fitness is enviable,” he said, his face broadening into a playful smile.”

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“Through the open drapes behind the nightstand, moonlight pouring through shadowy leaves fell haphazardly on the plastic bag full of shattered memories of his wife. He sat down on the bed, a dark silent gaze spreading over his face. Opening the bag released the flowery scent of licorice and violets—Summer’s signature perfume, Lolita Lempicka. He remembered she always said the aroma reminded her of childhood lullabies, fairies, and magic kingdoms. Matt buried his face in the tattered polo shirt she was wearing that day inhaling the faint trail of his lost love.”

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“I’m pretty sure she’s got an angel job now where she plucks a large handful of flowers and carries them up to God where they will bloom even brighter than on earth.” Can we ask God to bring her back home?” You know what, she’s already home.” Starla patted her chest. “She’ll always be right here in our hearts.” But I can’t give her a hug.” Yes, you can . . . if you hug yourself or me or Willa or Daddy or Big Pop or GoGo you’re hugging her because she’s a part of us.”

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“The timbre of Willa’s voice fluctuated from scarcely audible to maniacal while expressing her displeasure of being part of the family outing to begin with. “This was all Mom’s idea and it’s her fault we got hurt.” Why on earth would you say that?” She was all happy again and we were supposed to just get over how she blamed me for Griff’s death. We had to look at the pretty flowers and that stupid waterfall from the cliff.” Willa grabbed her headphones. Discussion over.”

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“How can an innocent child effortlessly carry such burdens on his shoulders? It’s almost like he’s having a chat with the ancient sages about universal truths. I’ll go on record that he’ll be an incredible sculptor if that’s what he wants to be. Creative types with that kind of vision see their spirits with crystal clearness,” offered Starla.”

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“Starla and Conner ambled to his car, knowing each deliberate footstep meant the road to parting was nearer. He leaned his back against the door pulling her within inches of his face, their personal space evaporating like dew steeped in the warmth of the morning sun. She tilted her head sideways, searching his eyes with hers. Straightening the collar of his shirt she said, “If I’m too bold forgive me, but you fill a void in my life . . . you’re like finding that stray earring I’ve been trying to find for ages and now that I have, it scares me.”

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“Lovey stepped in to add another layer to her husband’s story. “He gets teased constantly about having a Bible in one hand and a joke book in the other. When he’d act up his Mama would say, ‘How do you expect to get into heaven, young man?’ Of course, he had an answer . . . he said he’d just run in and out slamming doors until someone says, ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, either come in or stay out’ . . . then he’d go in.”

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“I remember not belonging. I was always Summer’s older sister—the plain one with the red hair and a gap between her front teeth. The first boy I had a crush on said my teeth looked like piano keys. My smile hid behind by hand until one day the captain of the hockey team said I looked like Madonna. It was like instant validation. Mine wasn’t a flaw, it was a feature . . . my unique trademark. I knew then I didn’t want to be perfect nor was my self-esteem tied to any clique. Starla reassuring teenage Willa of the correct perspective on self esteem and self-worth.”

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