The Red Gloves Collection by Karen Kingsbury

enjoying the kind of life and love most people only dreamed of.
    Bad times weren’t supposed to fall on people like Earl and Anne and Molly.
    Across from him, D.J. inhaled sharply. “Something happened to them?”
    “Yes.” Slowly, painfully, Earl allowed a handful of stubborn layers to join the others in a heap on the floor beside him. If he was going to tell the story, he couldn’t stop now. “Yes, something happened to them.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    E arl hadn’t talked about this to anyone. Not ever. But there, with the kindly mission director listening, it was time. He drew a slow breath and let the details come.
    On December 22 that year, most of their gifts had been wrapped and placed beneath the tree. Anne and Earl still had shopping to do, but Molly was adamant about going out to dinner and taking a drive to see Christmas lights. Usually the three of them waited until after Christmas to check out local displays.
    Earl cast Anne a questioning glance and shrugged.
    “Why not?” She grinned at their daughter. “Shopping can wait. Maybe your grandpa and grandma would like to come.”
    “That’s okay.” Earl’s father grinned at them. “You young people go and have a good time.”
    At six o’clock that evening they set out. The night was cool and clear; a million stars fanned out across the winter sky. They were two blocks away from home when it happened.
    One moment Earl was driving his family through an intersection. They were all talking at once, pointing at lights and laughing about something Molly had said. When suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Earl saw a truck the size of a freight train barreling toward them.
    “Noooo!” Earl’s piercing shout stilled the laughter just as the truck made impact. For what felt like minutes, they were surrounded by the deafening sound of twisting metal and breaking glass. Their car was spinning, flying through the air. Then, finally, it jolted to a stop, leaving a bone-chilling silence.
    Earl’s legs were pinned beneath the dash. His breathing was shallow and choppy and at first he couldn’t find the wind to speak.
    “Anne … Molly … ” His words were the dimmest of whispers. Inch by inch, he forced himself to turn until he could see Anne beside him. Her head was hanging strangely to one side. Blood trickled from her mouth and ear. “Anne!” This time his voice shook the car. “Anne, honey, wake up!”
    There was a moaning in the backseat and Earl fought the pain to twist around. “Molly? Sweetheart, are you okay?”
    She was silent. Then Earl noticed something that turned his stomach. Her head wasn’t right. The entire right side was flatter than before. “Somebody, help us! Please!”
    Sirens sounded in the distance and Earl heard people running toward them. A man’s voice shouted at him. “Hang on, in there. Help’ll be here any minute. Everything’s going to be okay.”
    Earl wanted to shout at the man that no, it wasn’t okay. His girls were hurt. He needed to check on Anne, make sure she was breathing. But black dots clouded his vision. The man outside the car began to fade and Earl realized he was fainting.
    No,
he ordered himself.
Not now. The girls need me.
Then with a final burst of strength he reached out and took hold of Anne’s fingers. “Anne … ”
    It was the last word he said before blacking out. When he woke up the next day he was in a hospital, desperate to find his family. Within an hour he knew the awful truth.
    Anne had died on impact, and Molly was on life support. Her brain waves were completely gone, but doctors wanted to wait. In case Earl woke up in time to say good-bye.
    His own injuries were life threatening, but he insisted they wheel him in to see his daughter. He was holding her hand when her heart stopped beating, and with it, every reason Earl had to live …
    A gain the memories lifted.
    Tears spilled from Earl’s eyes onto his old parka as he searched D.J.’s face. “I buried them the day after