A Beautiful Fall by Chris Coppernoll

with Christina. She knew what tied his hesitation toward marriage. She prayed daily for the Lord to bring healing so Bo could be whole, and she could find home.
    At noon, Duke’s barking clued Christina that Emma had found her place nestled among the trees. Christina looked through the glass front door to see Old Red chugging up the long, winding drive.
    “Christina, your place is so beautiful,” Emma said, climbing out of the truck. “And so remote. I feel like we’re in the mountains.”
    “Well,” Christina said, “you are.” She gave Emma a long hug. “How are you?”
    “I’m good,” Emma said, revealing that she was still in transition from the hectic pace of travel and family illness, and the calm restoration of small-town living.
    “Well, come on in. Let me show you around.”
    Christina pulled on the glass front door. It opened with a swooshing sound and snapped shut behind them.
    “Oh, Christina. Your house is amazing!”
    “Thanks, I love being out here. It’s become a part of me.”
    They walked through spacious rooms decorated with beautiful architectural details and exquisite furniture, and bathed in natural light.
    “This is wonderful.”
    Christina showed Emma to the kitchen. A window from floor to ceiling showed the mountain view and the elevated back deck.
    “I thought the same thing when I decided to build out here. I just love being surrounded by nature.”
    “You probably hear this all the time, but you’ve really done well for yourself.”
    “I can’t take any credit. Behind everything you see is a story of God’s grace.”
    “I see.”
    Emma stood on the opposite side of the marble countertop island while Christina put the last touches on lunch.
    “So tell me about your place in Boston.”
    “I live in an old brick townhouse in Back Bay. It’s a three-story place and I’ve got my bedroom on the top floor because that’s where it’s the quietest.”
    “Sounds exciting. Do you like it up there?” Christina asked.
    “Yeah, there are lots of great restaurants, theaters, museums, things like that. It’s where my work is.”
    Christina laughed.
    “It’s like I’m a little bit country, you’re a little bit rock and roll.”
    Emma smiled.
    “I guess. So, you’re a writer? What are you writing?”
    “Oh, that is so the number one question writers are asked.”
    “Sorry to be so cliché.”
    “No, you’re not.” Christina laughed. “It’s just that it takes months to write something, even longer to edit, and only two days to read. The book I’m writing now is called Four Seasons . It’s about thinking of life in terms of seasons. You know, spring is when we’re young and everything is new and life’s all about fun. Summer is when we come of age and we work hard to get where we want to go. Fall represents the season when we reflect on our lives and wonder if we made the right choices. If we’ve chosen to travel the right roads.”
    “Winter must be when there’s a little snow on the roof,” Emma kidded.
    “Yes, and when you want to find yourself inside with someone, warmed by the memories you’ve created over a lifetime.”
    “Sounds lovely.”
    “Thanks. I set aside time for prayer every morning to ask God what He wants me to say. This past springtime was so busy. I was traveling all the time. Fall is so beautiful on the mountain. The world feels like it’s slowing down and tidying up its business before a long winter’s slumber.”
    “I have to agree, Juneberry looks beautiful this time of year,” Emma said. “In a way, it feels like a time to tie up loose ends, settle accounts, however you want put it.”
    Christina pulled the cellophane off the dishes she’d prepared earlier.
    “I hope you’re hungry.”
    “Christina, this table has so much good food!”
    Emma took her seat at the table. On it, Christina had spread out chicken salad, toasted pita bread, grapes, cloth napkins, and flowers.
    “Maybe you are Martha Stewart.”
    “Mind if we say