Love Is

Linda McClung

Description

Annie must learn the meaning of love even while she is married to someone who takes pleasure in hurting her. She has never had the kind of love she sees described in the Bible and doesn't know how to protect herself from someone who says he loves her but continues to abuse her

How can one know what love is if they have never experienced true love. Is it the gifts John showers on Annie or the many times her tells her of his love? Or is it the discipline he uses to keep her in line?

Annie Taylor can’t understand why her father uses her and her mother as a punching bag. She leaves college to care for her dying mother and find herself caring for her younger sister, with no money and no place to live. When a handsome young man says he loves her and wants to take care of her, Annie finds the idea attractive until his love turns into a fight for her life. Escaping from John’s love takes all her wits and courage, after finding what real love is in a most unlikely place. She discovers that her loving husband will go to any lengths to protect his secret life while putting hers in jeopardy.

Sujets

• Religious
• Love of God
• Love
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: WestBow Press
• Date de parution: 26 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 5
• EAN13: 9781664239524
• Langue: English

Extrait

Other book s by Linda McC lung:
The He aler
My Sister My Twin
Seven Min utes
LOVE IS
 
 
 
 
 
Linda McClung
 
 
 

 
Copyright © 2022 Linda McClung.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
WestBow Press
A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.westbowpress.com
844-714-3454
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.®
 
ISBN: 978-1-6642-3950-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6642-3951-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6642-3952-4 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2021913347
 
WestBow Press rev. date: 10/21/2022
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Epilogue
 
 
To the memory of my parents, Noah and Hattie Templeton, who were poor in material wealth but rich in spiritual matters. Thank you for loving us.

Chapter 1
I didn’t want to go downstairs when the alarm sounded. I was afraid of what I would see down there.
Whenever I go into Mama’s room, it smells bad. When she groans in pain, I don’t know what to do. I used to love to wake her and climb into bed with her, but not anymore. I don’t understand what has happened to Mama. I know she is sick, but shouldn’t she be better by now? She has been sick for a long time. I don’t remember when she got sick, but it was soon after Annie left. Daddy ignores her groaning. But I want to make her better. I want to help, but I’m only eight.
Every morning, I need to get myself dressed for school—and Mama can’t help me anymore. I always need clean clothes, but sometimes I don’t have them because I’ve forgotten to do my laundry. This morning, I had to wear something dirty because I forgot again. The kids in school made fun of me because they can always tell when you wear dirty clothes. They make fun of any kid who does not wear the best brand of sneakers or shirts. I don’t like it. They should not do that. Mama said I should never laugh or make fun of other kids, no matter how bad they look. I know my hair needs to be braided, but I can’t do it myself. I wish Mama could help me.
Papa left before I got up. I had to make my own breakfast. There was no milk, so I ate the cereal dry and had a Pop-Tart. It’s the last one, so tomorrow I might have nothing left for breakfast. I have no food for dinner either, but I will worry about that when I get home from school.
Running out of food is not my worse problem. Mama is getting sicker, and there is no one to help me care for her. Papa gives her medicine, but he never talks to her or listens when she cries. I need a grown-up to help me. I bring her drinks and her pills, but now she needs more help. She cries a lot, and that makes me sad. I don’t like the way Mama smells bad. She does not like it either, but she is too sick to bathe. I tried to help her bathe once and got water all over the bed and the floor, and I had to clean it up, and that took forever!
Things were better when Annie was home. I never had to worry about clothes or food when Annie was here. She took care of everything, until she went to college. She is studying to be a doctor, but I wish she were already a doctor and could help Mama.
Annie’s car was in our driveway when I got off the bus. I got so excited I almost dropped my books. I ran as fast as I could to get to her because she is the only person who can help me. I ran into her arms and never wanted to let her go.

Chapter 2
A s Annie walked out of the last class of the semester, she still had not called her mother. Her gut had been telling her to call for several days. She should have tried before her class, but her mind was so full of pathophysiology that she could not think of anything else.
Before she left for work, she dug her phone out of her purse to call. The phone rang many times before someone knocked it off the hook. She heard a mumble in the background.
“Mom, it’s Annie. How are you? It’s Annie.”
“Not … good.” The rustle of sheets and a groan were her only response.
“Mom! Mom, what’s wrong? Mom, talk to me.” No response from her mother. After several more tries to get her mother to talk, she hung up and tried her father. With no answer, she left a message. “Dad, it’s Annie. Please call me back. Something’s wrong with Mom.”
She dressed for work, still trying to reach her father. Jeannie’s diagnosis of breast cancer came two years ago with high expectations for a positive response from chemotherapy. Two months ago, doctors said that no further treatment would stop the cancer. It had traveled to her lungs, and now her brain and liver had been affected. Nothing was making her better. Annie tried to stay in touch, but between work schedule and classes, she often missed days checking on her mother.
Jeannie was often too sick to talk on the phone. Annie’s only contact remained her father’s infrequent phone calls. When had things changed for the worse at home? She had planned to stay in Harrisonburg and work through Christmas break to pay for the coming semester. But with the situation at home, it seemed doubtful that she could stay. Her little sister was only eight years old—too young to be left alone to care for their mother and herself. Her father was not a man who would notice his youngest daughter struggling with the responsibility—or make the necessary changes to care for his wife and daughter.
The next morning, having no call from her father, Annie called Cracker Barrel, giving them notice that she must go home and might not be returning soon. She packed everything she owned in her Honda Civic and headed south to Steelestown. Her home was less than two hours down the valley on the interstate, then up the hill to a clearing on the side of the mountain.
Home. That word brought so many emotions; it was difficult to separate love from hate. Her mother had supported her dreams and taught her to love others, yet she always held back, stopping short of sharing her genuine feelings. Her ornery and spiteful father took his frustrations out when life did not go his way by hitting her and her mother. He preferred his cronies over his family. He cared for her baby sister, taking her on his knees and showing affection, but he became an angry beast to Annie. She had feared his fierce outburst since childhood, never knowing when he might turn his vile behaviors toward her.
W hy does he hate me so much? She had often wondered but never understood his behavior or what she had done to deserve it. She remembered hiding behind the couch when he came home, hoping to become invisible. In high school, she worked hard to get the best grades, hoping to impress her father, but to no avail. She never dated because no one ever asked her. She made few friends in school and could not risk them near her father. Nothing changed their relationship, and she stopped trying or caring. When she left for college, it was the best day of her life.
The drive through the Shenandoah comforted her with the grandeur of the rocky Massanutten Mountains and the hazy Blue Ridge. What a sight this must have been for the Civilian Conservation Corps in 1934 when they arrived to build the scenic road to North Carolina. The valley had been pristine, with green hills lining the valley, working farms, and plentiful waterfalls. The interstate highway split the valley like a watermelon, leaving the sound of semitrucks and sirens racing up and down the valley.

George Taylor dreaded getting home as soon as the final bell ended his workday. He never knew what he would find when he walked in the front door. Jeannie was growing weaker each day, and her care overwhelmed him. No one had taught him how to care for someone so sick, and he had no one to ask. He didn’t feel right about leaving her at home alone, but what choice did he have? He hoped she would not live much longer in her current condition. It was difficult to watch her deterioration and not