Bliss

Eighteen

Connor cringed as he strummed a wretched cord on his guitar.

"Trial and error," He murmured and tried again, this time it sounded better.

He hadn't played his guitar in months.

His father taught him how to play the year he became their foster child.

Now, fifteen years later, he was putting the skill to great use.

A song for Bliss.

He didn't write it. He was going to play and sing it for her.

She liked his voice, which blessed him.

He hoped she would like his guitar playing.

When it came to Bliss, he questioned how fitting anything he'd do for her was.

He wanted to please her. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted to see her smile and hear her lovely laughter.

Bliss was a blissful lady.

A smile grew as he thought of her.

They were going out tonight.

A surprise, as usual.

He couldn't wait to see her.

Part of him wanted to play the song for her tonight, but he wanted to wait until their wedding to showcase his love for her.

He wasn't a showy man. Not in the least. But showing their friends and family how dearly he adored Bliss, that was something he was willing to do.

He wanted everyone to know Bliss was in good hands.

Mistreating or disregarding Bliss was something he'd never do.

"Let it sound right, Lord," Connor prayed lowly and began to strum.

"Tomorrow morning if you wake up, and the sun does not appear, I, I will be here."

His heart was settled as he listened to the song for the first time. He knew it was his song to Bliss.

Another God-ordained thing.

"If in the dark we lose sight of love, hold my hand, and have no fear, cause I, I will be here."

It was as if Steven Curtis Chapman wrote the song for Connor.

He couldn't put the words together better than the song did.

"I will be here when you feel like being quiet, when you need to speak your mind, I will listen. And I will be here when the laughter turns to crying. Through the winning, losing, and trying, we'll be together, cause I will be here,"

As he finished the cord, his phone rang.

He hoped it was Bliss.

He picked up his phone and sighed.

It wasn't.

"Hello?"

"Connor Jefferies?" The man asked.

"Yes, sir."

"I work for Mayor Taylors. Your report for the Fire Chief and another fireman has been reviewed. Mayor Taylors would like to thank you for the report. We will be handling the situation with haste. As for you, return to work and continue serving our community with diligence and care. We've heard raving reports about you, Mr. Jefferies. Please expect a call from this number on Monday. Have a good afternoon."

"Thank you, sir. God bless you and Mayor Taylors. This is good news,"

The call ended, and Connor was astounded.