Four

“God hath not promised skies always blue, but God hath promised strength for the day. Please just give me the strength.” she said softly.
The simple prayer had comforted her in the past; she hoped it hadn’t lost its clout. She’d let Caleb get to her before and wasn’t about to let it happen again. She was stronger than this, stronger than him. She took a deep breath and pushed herself up off the ground. Once standing she attempted to wipe the mascara tracks from under her eyes and smooth her dress. She turned and headed for the door. She was reaching for the handle when she stopped and thought for a moment. She turned and faced the altar, gave a small bow as she crossed herself and said a quiet “Amen”.
“If there is someone up there I should at least be respectful,” she thought. And with that she strode out of the church.
Even with her bag in tow it was not a difficult walk to the house. She had made the trip between church and home so many times she probably could have done it with her eyes closed. As she rounded the corner she could see the old mailbox barely sticking out from under the morning glory vines. The plant had taking hold of the trellis it was provided years ago but had since consumed everything else in its path; including the mailbox. It was late in the day so the flowers were losing their color and the petals beginning to curl. She reached through the vines to find the latch for the gate. It squeaked open and she stepped into the yard. The first thing she saw was the old pick up truck up on cinder blocks in the corner of the yard. “You know you’re a redneck when,” she mumbled. Maybe Caleb was right; maybe things can’t change. “No,” she though firmly. He may have been right about things around here but he was wrong about her. She had changed; she had no doubt about that. With a new sense of purpose she headed for the front door.