|Tomorrow May Come (standard:romance, 5596 words)|
|Author: Steven LaBri||Added: Jun 26 2007||Views/Reads: 2038/1341||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A romantic novel speaking to that place in each of us that seeks inspiration or redemption. The words and the life of Lucas Colby will speak to the heart and mind of anyone that has loved and lost, or loved and lived.|
CHAPTER 1 August 1918 Of the childhood memories Lucas Colby could recall, only one brought him pleasure. Early one morning he waited in his bed for the sun to peek over the horizon. Lucas expected excitement in the day ahead. It was the 10th day of August and he was seven years old. His mother said she would do something special. Lucas knew money was scarce and asked only for his favorite breakfast – a stack of soft warm pancakes dripping in soft butter and maple syrup. As the rising sun peeked through tattered hand sewn curtains, Lucas Colby sprung from his bed and scurried toward the kitchen as fast as his small legs would carry him. Running up behind his mother, he wrapped his arms around her legs. The warmth gave him comfort and her dress was soft against his face. Surprised, she smiled, looked down and said, “Good Morning Lucas! Happy birthday!” It was a rare sight to see Martha Colby smile. She lived a life of solitude and quiet within the confines of a home with little laughter. She rubbed the head of her only son, smoothing his tousled hair and said, “Go sit and I will bring you your favorite breakfast.” Lucas sat at the kitchen table with anticipation. A small pitcher of maple syrup, a glass of milk, a fork, and the morning paper in his view. Martha Colby placed the newspaper so it would catch the eye of her inquisitive son. She knew the headline would attract his attention. Lucas saw the large bold print, “Man found dead inside Finley's Trade Emporium”. His eyes widened as he reached for the paper. This was an unusual event for the small quiet town named after Theodius Finley. He was the proprietor of this store, owner of most of the land in the county, and landlord of the home where Martha Colby lived. “What happened Ma?” “A man broke into Finley's during the night,” she said flatly acting as if uninterested. “Can I read the story?” he asked while reaching for the paper. In terse response she said, “You won't know much of the words, but go ahead and try.” Martha Colby knew there would be words he wouldn't know. Lucas pulled the paper towards him, his eyes scanning the bold print. His actions, reminded Martha of days spent with her husband, Matthew Colby - days talking comfortably, looking forward to their future. Lucas reflected his father in so many ways; his looks, his manner, his lanky walk. She prayed he would not inherit his father's habits. Lucas, bespeaking quiet innocence said, “Ma, Mr. Finley says here the man was liquored up. What does that mean?” Pleased with his question, Martha Colby responded, “It means the damn fool was drunk. He was drinking whiskey, he found in the store.” “It says he shot himself Ma! Why does someone do that?” Martha Colby, now more pleased than ever knowing she could now make her point answered, “Mr. Finley kept a shotgun under the counter and this man found it. That is why you should stay away from liquor Lucas. Liquor is the devil's drink and this foolish man was so drunk he didn't know what he was doing. Anyhow, you've read enough. Give me the paper, your breakfast is ready.” Lucas pushed the paper to the side as his mother slid the warm pancakes onto a large plate and placed them before her hungry son. The curious boy wanted to know more, but Martha Colby was replete with satisfaction. “Drinkin' is the work of the devil,” she would recur - a constant reminder of the sins and temptations ahead of Lucas Colby. Lucas had just finished his breakfast when he heard a loud knock at the Click here to read the rest of this story (567 more lines)
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