ABBY'S SECRET LOVE

Abby slipped as surreptitiously as she could into a seat at the back of the funeral home. The service was underway.  Frank’s body lay in the open coffin before his widow, Karen, his children, Nancy and Harry, his sisters, Mazie and Lily.  A preacher Abby did not know was speaking.  He regaled the virtuous life Frank had lived, the courage with which met the cancer that took him.  “He was a true servant of God, strong in his faith, faithful to his family and friends.”

On and on the preacher recollected specific  godly acts of Frank’s seventy years.  Karen sobbed; Nancy wept silently; Harry blotted tears.  “To his beloved Karen”, the preacher said in a high pitched voice. “we  offer the promise that one day she will join Frank in the wonders of Heaven where they will spend eternity with the love and trust and faithfulness that marked their time on this earth.”

A chorus of ‘amens’ followed.

Abby closed her eyes; she breathed deeply; she fought back her tears.  She would miss Frank.  She had loved Frank since they were in their teens—ever since that first kiss behind the barn.  She had loved him through her marriage and divorce, through his marriage to Karen and the birth of his children.  It had been rife with joy and difficulties.

Her memories were sweet and bitter.  Sweet were those stolen hours when they spent an evening, a night, a weekend together.  Bitter when he left her and returned to Karen and his children.

Shaken from her reveries by the quartet’s cacophonous rendition of AMAZING GRACE Abby surveyed the congregation—fighting her desire for revenge against the woman who stole so much of her time with her only love.

All heads bowed for a benediction.  Abby surreptitiously slipped out of the funeral parlor.