Gail Gaymer Martin - The Christmas Kite

“Do you have a key for the place?”

“I think so. It should be on the ring.” Otis pulled a set of keys from his pocket and eyed them. “Check this one out if you would. I think that’s it.”

Jordan took the key and burrowed through a drawer until he found a set of tagged keys. He matched it against the other. “That’s it, Otis.”

“Good. By the way, I mentioned earlier that I posted the Help Wanted in the window. Nothin’ yet. Darla can work only another week or so. I’ll need at least a part-timer.”

“Whatever you need, Otis. Run an ad in the paper if you want to.”

Otis stepped backward, his hand against the screen-door handle. “I’ll check the apartment in the morning.”

Jordan gave him a nod, and Otis headed back to his car.

Standing with a full view of the lake, Jordan gazed out at the glinting sun hanging low in the sky. Sparkles of gold and copper bounced on the waves. If he thought Lila’s God really cared one iota for him, he’d believe the Lord was working in his life. Meara and Mac had walked into his walled-up world, and for the first time in years, life seemed tolerable. More than tolerable. He found himself looking down the beach, wishing he’d see Mac’s smiling face and hear Meara’s soft, lilting voice.

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