Turning Pages

Chapter Four

FOUR 

"Morning, Aunt Kathy." I passed the bathroom and called out a greeting to my mom's older sister, who was braiding Jenni's hair in front of the sink. 

"I brought muffins," she replied. 

I grabbed one on my way out the door. Benji was dribbling his basketball on the driveway, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I threw my stuff into my car and then ducked around him, making a steal and going in for a layup. 

"Hey, no fair. I didn't even see you coming," he complained. 

I caught the rebound. "And that's how it should be." 

"Yeah, I guess. Can I have my ball?" Another year and I'd be looking up at him. He was twelve and destined for tallness. 

"In a minute. I want to talk to you." 

He heaved a long, exaggerated "just kill me now and get it over with" sigh. He walked over to the front porch, dragging his feet along the concrete, and sat down, his hands dangling between his knobby knees. 

"Haven't seen you much lately." 

He shrugged. "Hasn't been much to see." 

I knew what he meant. We'd all been less "there" since Dad died. Jenni was probably handling it better than the rest of us, and that was on account of her pet rat. Dad bought it for her the week before he died, and she'd poured all her heartache into taking care of that worm-tailed little thing. I only tolerated it for her sake. 

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," I said to Benji. 

We sat there together for several long seconds before he spoke. "Do you ever . . ."  

"Hmm?" 

"Do you ever feel like Dad's nearby somewhere, like he's watching us? Not in a creepy ghost way, but more like a guardian-angel way?" Benji dipped his head, and I thought I saw a little pink around his ears. 

"Yes, I do," I said. "I sometimes feel him late at night while I'm going to sleep, like he's tucking me in or something." 

"So, you don't think I'm nuts?" 

I reached out and socked my little brother's arm. "Yeah, you're nuts, but not because of this." A glance at my watch told me I was going to be late for class, but this was more important. "Benji, I really, really believe he still hangs around. He loves us-he wouldn't just go off and forget us, would he?" 

My brother shook his head. "No." 

"I mean, he came to every one of your games. He never missed one. You don't think he's going to start missing them now, do you? He doesn't have to fight traffic, or get off work early-he can just . . . come." I wasn't sure how that worked, but I figured God had it all figured out somehow. 

Benji passed a hand over his face. "Then I guess I'm doing okay. If Dad's not really gone . . ." 

"He's not really gone. He's just invisible, that's all." I stood up and dropped the ball into Benji's lap. "Like a superpower." 

He gave me a cheesy grin. "Um, that's kind of lame, but I get what you're saying. Thanks." 

I wiped away a tear as I climbed into my car. Of course Dad still watched Benji play basketball-why would he let a little thing like death stop him? He was still our dad, and he still cared about us. That wasn't going to change, no matter where he was.

??

"Let's turn these bookcases to run east and west, and then move these tables against that wall." Blake stood in the middle of the room and motioned with his arms. "That will give us more space over here for the magazine racks."