Ten minutes later, Mitch stood in the hallway, in front of the upstairs picture window Kristen had admired weeks ago, eyeing the streaks of dirt and the cloudy glass beneath the dim overhead light. He’d arranged two step stools, a bucket of distilled water, a stack of soft cloths, and a bottle of dishwashing liquid at his feet.
“All right, I’m here. Now what?”
He turned and grinned at Kristen, who stood outside her bedroom door, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and looking somewhat accommodating. “You can start by coming a little closer.”
She did, a brief smile appearing before she lifted an eyebrow at the materials on the floor and stepped up beside him. “So you want to borrow my hands to help you clean windows?”
“Nope.” Mitch looked down at her, lifted her hand, and kissed the center of her palm. “I need you to help me uncover some hidden beauty.” He grabbed a cloth, applied a small amount of dishwashing liquid to it, then dipped it in the water and pressed it into her hand. After guiding her hand to the top left corner of the window, he pressed her palm to the glass and began a gentle circular motion. “Start here. Easy movements, one section at a time. When you reach the edge, dry that area off before moving to the next. I’ll start on the other side.”
She moved to speak but seemed to think better of it, shrugged and went to work.
Smiling, he prepped another cloth for himself, then moved to the window’s right upper corner and started cleaning. They’d been working for half an hour when the sun began to rise, the tentative glow of sunlight dimming the brightness of the interior light. With each motion of her arm, Kristen leaned closer to the window, narrowing her eyes, and peered more closely at the small section of glass she’d uncovered. A thin line of deep green and a semicircle of vibrant pink were visible.
Mitch paused, his hand hovering over the glass, as she stopped scrubbing and roved her eyes over the upper expanse of the window. The surprised delight on her face alone was worth the risk he’d decided to take.
Her long blond hair rippled over her shoulders and spilled down her back as she craned her neck for a better view. “Stained glass?”
Hiding a smile, he went back to scrubbing. “Suppose we’ll find out.”
He felt her gaze on him, heard the small laugh that escaped her, then grinned wider when she went back to work.
Over the next hour, the sun rose higher as they continued to wipe thick layers of grime from the glass. Sunlight cut through the gleaming panels, and bursts of color surrounded them. Various hues of pink, red, yellow, and green splashed across the walls, covered the hardwood floor and tinted the creamy complexion of Kristen’s cheeks as she cleaned.
When they finished, Kristen dropped her cloth, stepped back, and studied what they’d uncovered. Mitch tossed his rag and joined her.
A green vine intertwined with delicate pink roses covered the top half of the window, the ends trailing down the outer edges. It framed the scenery outside, hugged the outer slopes of the distant fields, and curled around the clear blue sky above the oak trees in the front yard.
Kristen stared, a look of awe appearing and her eyes glistening. “You were right, Mitch. It’s beautiful.”
“Another gift from Joe,” he said, tipping his head back for a better view. The sun was strong now, its heat beating through the glass and warming his skin. “It’s been years since I’ve thought about it, and even more since Emmy’s been able to get up here and clean it. I’d almost forgotten what was underneath those layers of grime from years of neglect.”
After stepping closer, he unlocked the window, then tugged it upward. The morning breeze swept in, filling the hallway with fresh air and the scent of honeysuckle.
“Needs a little greasing up, but it still works.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come take a look.”
Kristen walked to his side and looked out at the scenery below.
“Is it as good a view as the first time you stood here?” he asked.
She nodded slowly, a muscle in her jaw ticking. “Better.”
He followed her gaze to the land that sprawled before them. The red dirt driveway wound gently around the tall oak trees. Thick green grass carpeted the lawn, and beyond, the fields on either side of the farm’s entrance were filled to the brim with lush, healthy soybean plants. And even farther in the distance, tall cornstalks gently waved with the push of the breeze.
“Had things been different for me and Carrie,” Mitch said, a pang of regret stealing through his chest, “this could’ve been paradise. Or at least closer to heaven than to hell.” He closed his eyes and exhaled a heavy breath. “It should’ve been, but I don’t want to dwell on that anymore.” After opening his eyes, he faced Kristen, speared his fingers through her hair, cupped her cheek in his palm. “I want to forgive.”
She blinked up at him, her mouth trembling. “Forgive Emmy?
”
Mitch nodded. “And Carrie. My dad. The world’s disappointments, the bottle, whatever tempted them to become what they did.” He moved closer, lowered his forehead to hers. “And myself, for holding on to all that mean hate for so long.”
A small sound escaped her. She pressed close, sliding her hands up to splay over his chest. “There’s no meanness in you, Mitch. And if you asked Emmy, she’d say there was nothing for her to forgive you for.”
He lifted his head, encircling her wrists with his fingers. “I’m not asking her right now. I’m asking you.” He steadied his voice, met her eyes. “This place was heaven for Emmy once. Help me make it that for her again?”
And for Sadie and Dylan. For us.
Her mouth parted soundlessly as she studied his face. Then she asked, “What do you mean?”