Bratwurst and Bridges

by Baganz, Susan M. ;

  He sat in the back of church. He’d spied Amy down toward the front in the audience. He didn’t hate her for her presumptions, but he wondered what made a woman so desperate, pathetic even…to pursue a man so aggressively. He didn’t mind strong women. There were many he worked with over the years in ministry, who were respectful of his position and authority, but also unafraid to express their opinions and not play games with him over anything.

  Not all of these women were the older ones either. Some were younger and could teach ones older in years some lessons. He longed for a mentoring program in the women’s ministry that wouldn’t place “older” women over younger necessarily. Kind of a default in the Mother of Preschoolers program because the older women were the ones who had gone through having young children. But even then, they had to be careful of the mentors in charge. Character. Integrity. The refusal to engage in gossip or lewd behavior.

  And a respect for men.

  He worked hard with the men’s ministry to see that the men who were growing in their faith…were worthy of that respect.

  He tried hard to focus on the message. A guest speaker was there today. Dan forgot his Bible with his pencil and notebook but remembered Skye using an app on her phone. He quickly found the app, downloaded it, and started to take his notes there. He really hated virtual keyboards. He missed his previous phone with a real keyboard that slid out.

  Faith. Faith in action. Faith that waits. My soul longs for your salvation; I hope in Your word. My eyes long for Your promise; I ask, “When will You comfort me?” Something about Psalm 119:81-82 resonated within him.

  Several weeks away from the office. A new wind blew through his soul since he moved and was forced to look inside. Forced to try to figure out who he was beyond being a pastor. To learn that he hadn’t been the wonderful husband he once thought he was. To discover that he hadn’t really been living. Salvation had been his all along, but he, a pastor who knew better, violated his own values…of resting and trusting in God for his comfort. Instead he tried to handle it on his own by burying himself in his work. And failed miserably.

  He stood with the people around him as the final song was sung. Switching his phone off, he bowed his head for Andrew’s prayer and send-off. He moved out into the aisle and made his way through the crowd. He had kids to pick up today. He stood in the line for Meghan’s room first.

  “Why are you here in line?” Stephanie asked. She was married to Roberto, an attorney who also attended the church. Now there was a relationship that had endured challenges.

  “I’m helping a friend with her kids this weekend.” He flashed his two tags.

  “You? Babysitting?” The blonde winked at him. “Good for her…and you. Learn anything?”

  “Yeah. Mothers are saints and single mothers deserve to be honored.”

  “Have your friend check out our Mother of Preschoolers group. Sounds like she could use it.”

  “After only a few days I feel like I could use it.” He gave a short laugh. “Seriously. I had no idea what it all entailed and these aren’t babies. At least I was spared the diaper changing.”

  “Diapers aren’t as bad as—

  “Vomit” they both said and chuckled.

  “So you had some of that too?” The line moved forward.

  Dan nodded. “Yup.”

  “Good for you. Give this mom my number and we’ll get her into MOPS and connected with other moms who can encourage her on her journey.”

  “I will. Thanks, Steph.”

  “Anytime, Dan.”

  He handed his card in and Meghan ran to him. He lifted her up in his arms and planted a kiss on her cheek. The little girl giggled and wrapped her arms tight around him. With a nod to Stephanie he wandered to Quinn’s room and a shorter line that existed there. Tony stepped up behind him with his two daughters in his arms. “Skye’s not back yet?”

  “Blizzard hit New York City.”

  Tony grinned. “So how do you like single parenting?”

  Dan tried to cover up a yawn and Tony laughed. Meghan giggled.

  “Guess I have my answer. I look forward to hearing about it on Wednesday. Have a great day back tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” Dan watched his friend walk away with his delightful twins on either side of him. Tony was a lucky man. He was also due to become a father again any moment.

  As the chatter of people surrounded him and bodies bumped against him, he clung to Meghan. Her hair carried the scent of baby shampoo and tickled his nose. Her two little hands cupped each cheek and she pressed them together giving him fish lips. She giggled. Dan grinned as she dropped them to wrap her arms around his neck. Soon Quinn walked alongside. He noticed the strange looks as he walked to the coatroom.

  Cora stopped him.

  “Are these Skye’s children?”

  “Yes. She didn’t make it back last night.”

  “Oh, I know. I was supposed to pick her up at the airport but will do that this afternoon instead. I must say though, Dan, those children look very good on you.” She gave a nod and slight grin as she walked away to greet someone else.

  He spied a friend in the lobby. “Come on kids…one last conversation before we head home.” He walked up to a man in a leather jacket. “Titus, I’ve got a single mom’s dead car in my parking lot. Could you take a look at it?”

  “Sure, I’ll come over now. I’ll follow you home.”

  “Wonderful.” Dan turned to walk out and Titus followed. “Come on, kids. Let’s get home and prepare for your mother’s return.”

  ~*~

  Skye settled into her cramped seat on the plane. Her agent had called that morning, wanting her to produce more art immediately. Didn’t Sally Ann realize it didn’t work that way? An artist couldn’t force their work to happen. She wasn’t even home yet.

  And what if she couldn’t paint? What then? Her biggest fear as an artist was coming to a point in time when the creativity dried up and there was nothing new to paint. Nothing breathtaking to share with the world. When all colors appeared gray and flat. What then? How would she support her family then?

  She’d spent time reading in the Bible the previous evening and even that morning before going to the airport. This Jesus was called the Light of the World. Was it a coincidence that light was a new feature in her paintings? And the way he treated the Samaritan woman was respectful. And the woman caught in adultery? Jesus never condemned her.

  Light.

  Love.

  Respect.

  Truth.

  Was Jesus the truth? Dan thought so. He believed it. He had staked his future, his life, and his career on it. He was the one to ask about her faith, or lack thereof. And other than making fun of her fuzzy pink boots, he had always treated her with respect. Even when he took her Zumba class, a class that some men thought of as an opportunity to flirt.

  He never flirted with her. She understood that he was grieving his wife, but even married men often plied their flirting trade with her when the opportunity arose. Some of that happened at the art show. Whether they realized she was the artist or not didn’t matter. She was female and, therefore, an object of lust.

  She might have walked away feeling flattered by the men’s attention, but instead it disgusted her. Those men wore high-end suits, but they were as slimy as some she met in the inner city of Milwaukee.

  But not at church.

  A man sat next to her on the plane. She was on the side with only two seats, so that meant no sandwich between strangers. The man was older, with white hair.

  “Well, little lady. Leaving New York for Wisconsin?”

  “You would be as well.” Skye hid a smile as she looked straight ahead at the stewardesses checking the overhead bins.

  “I’m going for a visit.”

  “Then it’s good you’re on this plane,” Skye responded.

  “What brought you to New York?”

  “Art.”

  “Ahh, a connoisseur?”

  “An artist.”

>   “A little thing like you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What is your inspiration? Your muse? Don’t artists have those?”

  Skye didn’t respond right away. She shook her head. “I don’t know. My art comes from deep within. Emotion expressed in images, color, shading, and brush strokes. Where that comes from? I have no clue.”

  “God was the ultimate Artist. He paints the sky every morning and gives each human a unique fingerprint, personality, family, and history. Scripture talks about every good gift coming from Him.”

  “Art has been a gift, a curse, a healing, and a question.”

  “A question?” The old man turned to face her, his bushy brows drawn together.

  “Yeah. Sometimes I paint and I look at the image and wonder what I’m trying to tell myself through that painting. The depths of the images perplex me at times.”

  “Has it always been that way?”

  “Not initially…only recently.”

  “What changed?”

  Skye whispered, “I’m not sure.” But it was a lie. What changed? A certain grieving pastor offering her the hope of the world in Jesus. That’s when it all changed for her. Her paintings were good and she had some sales, but it wasn’t until that one, that things changed. The one where she was asking the most questions about faith. Attraction. Love.

  “Get some rest young lady. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  “What about you?” Skye asked.

  “What about me? I’m an old man on my way to see my daughter. We’ve been estranged since she was a teenager. Recently she’s come to know God and has forgiven her old man. I hope that maybe I’ll even meet my granddaughter. I hear she has some kids too. Hard to believe that after all these years of living alone and having to deal with the fall out of my sins, that I’ll finally have a family.”

  “What sins kept you from them?”

  “Drugs. Alcohol mostly. Caused my wife to leave. She remarried, gave my daughter a different name. I didn’t fight it. I knew they could provide a more stable life. It wasn’t until a few years ago though that I heard the truth. Got myself to church. Found God. Joined Alcoholics Anonymous and reached out to beg her forgiveness. For years she ignored me, but she kept my information. I may be old, but I wasn’t very wise. It was only recently that she reached out to me and accepted my olive branch.”

  “I’m happy for you. It’s nice for someone to get a happy ending.”

  “You don’t have a happy ending?”

  “I didn’t have a happy beginning. I don’t hold out high hopes for the end.”

  “Listen to an old man, for whatever it’s worth. God’s got His hand in your life, even when you can’t recognize it. He loves you more than you’ll ever understand and wants good things for you.”

  “I’ve had so little evidence of that.” Skye avoided looking at him.

  “You probably have more proof than you realize.”

  Skye leaned back and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to talk anymore. Cinderella stories were not for girls like her.

  ~*~

  The plane landed and Cora was there waiting for her at the baggage claim.

  “Come along, dearie. We’ll get you home to those adorable children of yours.”

  “You’ve met my children?”

  “Dan brought them to church this morning.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good I guess.”

  “You’ve been bringing them.”

  “Yes…but, well, they’d been sick and it’s really cold out. I’m surprised he bothered.”

  “I don’t think it was a bother.” The woman winked at her.

  She was dropped off at the apartment complex and noticed a man by her sedan. “Hey, that’s my car.”

  “Are you Skye?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just replacing your battery. The other one was beyond resuscitating.”

  “Oh, well, thank you. What do I owe you for that?” Her nose was freezing.

  “Nothing. It’s all taken care of. Get inside before you freeze to death.” He let the hood slam shut and handed her the car keys. He gave her a nod and jumped into his truck that was parked next to her car and had been running.

  Skye obeyed and went inside and dragged her stuff up the stairs. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Her apartment door flung open and two little people ran out. She plopped her bags at the top of the stairs and dropped to one knee to hug them.

  “Mommy, I missed you,” Megan said as she clung tight.

  “Mr. Dan was nice. Is he our new daddy?” Quinn asked.

  “Oh, no, sweetheart. Mr. Dan is our friend and neighbor. Did he take good care of you?”

  The kids nodded and pulled her into the apartment. The place smelled like savory roast beef and her bags had been brought in. The table was set for three.

  Dan leaned against the wall with his arms folded. “Ready to take charge?” He gave her a wink.

  “I think I can handle it from here. Thank you.”

  Dan started to move to the door and Skye stopped him. “My car?”

  “Didn’t start this morning. It should now.”

  “Who do I pay?”

  “No one. Some of the guys from our church like to help out single moms in need at no cost to the owner of the vehicle.”

  “Oh.”

  “Dinner is in the slow cooker. Enjoy.”

  With a quick grin, he was gone. The door closed softly behind him. She heard the click of the one across the hall and her kids once again demanded her attention.

  Skye put the food on the table and sat with her kids.

  “Mommy, we pray now.” Both children bowed their heads and folded their hands. Quinn spoke, “Jesus, thanks for Mommy being home and for Mr. Dan taking good care of us and making us yummy food. Amen.”

  Meghan gave an enthusiastic “amen” herself and they looked expectantly at their mother.

  “Amen?” Skye responded and was rewarded with big grins. She served up the meat, potatoes, and carrots and her stomach rumbled. It seemed wrong they were enjoying this feast, and Dan was alone next door probably eating soup from a can or a frozen dinner.

  She was amazed at bedtime. Both kids knelt by their beds and prayed. Skye tucked them in and planted kisses on their cheeks. She walked out of the room, entered her own, and stopped. Her suitcase sat on a bed made with care. She unpacked, readied herself for bed, and climbed in.

  The old man on the plane had been right after all. She’d been blessed more than she realized.

  THIRTEEN

  There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship.

  Thomas Aquinas

  Dan spent the night in the bathroom. Great. Catch the flu bug just as I’m about to go back to work. Every time he threw up, his ribs hurt all over. By morning he was blurry-eyed and exhausted, but at least his insides had quieted down. He showered, dressed, and headed out into the frigid cold Wisconsin Monday.

  He arrived at church before other staff and started the coffee pot…even though the thought of a cup didn’t appeal to him at the moment. At least the aroma of the coffee beans didn’t make him sick. He poured a cup for himself anyway, more to hold and warm up his hands rather than drink. It would make for a nice prop.

  He flipped open his work laptop and logged in. His email was overloaded with thousands of messages. He started with the oldest first and began to work his way through, making a note of who he needed to contact and about what. He returned a few brief ones, apologizing to those who didn’t realize he’d been out on leave. Many were notes of encouragement. There had been several from Amy. The early ones started out flirtatious and later ones, apologetic. Her last one indicated she wanted help to connect with Skye—to apologize to her face to face with Mary Beth as a safety for them both.

  He wondered how Skye would react to that. She hadn’t filled out a contact card yet, so he didn’t feel right giving out that information without her permission. He picked up the phone to give her a call. />
  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Dan.”

  “Oh, thank you for everything, the car, the roast, taking such great care of my kids. They couldn’t say enough good things about you.”

  “It was an enlightening experience. And my pleasure. Listen, I need to ask you a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Remember that woman who confronted you?”

  “Yeah, I get it, you are an attractive single man, you probably need to carry a baseball bat with you to get to your office.”

  “Nothing of the sort. But thanks for the compliment. Amy wants to meet with you to apologize. She would do it here at the church with our Women’s Ministry Director, Mary Beth. Could I give her your phone number to set it up?”

  “Mary Beth or Amy?”

  “Well, Amy asked, but if you’re more comfortable with me giving it to Mary Beth instead, I’m fine with that.”

  “I’d feel safer with Mary Beth. I’m willing to meet. Should be interesting.”

  “This would probably need to be in an evening due to Amy’s work schedule.”

  “I’d need to find a sitter.”

  “Let me know and I’ll watch the kids for you.”

  “Why? Why should you give up your free time so Amy can unburden herself? That seems wrong.”

  “Maybe because I’m your neighbor, skiing partner, and erstwhile Zumba student, and I love your kids and want to help?”

  “I must be crazy to always question you on your motives. I’m sorry about that, it’s just—”

  “It’s OK, Skye. I have a hard time asking for help too, and it takes time to learn to trust people. From what little you’ve told me, you’ve had that trust betrayed one too many times.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for understanding. Go ahead and have Mary Beth set it up. How’s the first day back?”

  “Brutal. I caught your kids’ bug and was sick last night. Better now but beyond exhausted. I don’t think I’m going to want to eat for a week after that.”

  “I’m sorry you got sick.”

  “It’s not your fault. It happens.”

  “I realize that, but, if you hadn’t…”

  “I could have still caught it from someone on a Sunday morning, or at the grocery store, or even here in the office.”