Bratwurst and Bridges

by Baganz, Susan M. ;

  “Well, thanks again. Try to have a good day. I need to get to class here in a little bit.”

  “Let me know if you have any trouble with the car.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Dan hung up and couldn’t help but smile remembering her as she crested the stairs yesterday and sank to her knees to hug her kids. She wore her pink fuzzy boots and even though she had to be exhausted, she glowed when she looked into their eyes and listened to their chatter.

  That was a gift he would never experience. The pain of every child they lost ached anew, compounded by such a beautiful example of love he saw. Being with those kids, even while they were sick, reawakened a longing inside. For a wife. For a family. Maybe it was time to start thinking of moving on and finding one.

  But how did a single pastor do that? Everyone would watch. Judge. And how did he even begin to find a woman who would have the courage and stamina to take on the position and weight of a pastor’s wife? It could be isolating to be in that role. Pastors’ wives knew too much, and the expectations of them were high. He wasn’t interested as much in a partner in ministry at church…but a partner in the ministry of raising a family.

  He leaned his head back and sighed. It had been easier in high school. Find a girl, ask her out, and if it didn’t work, move on to another. But here? In the church? In a venue where so many people watched? Why would any woman willingly step into that?

  A rap on the door startled him and he snapped forward.

  “Andrew.”

  “Welcome back, Dan.” Pastor Andrew stood in the doorway with his own steaming cup of joe lifted in a toast.

  “Thanks. It’s good to be back.”

  Andrew frowned. “You don’t look so hot.”

  “Tired. Caught the flu from the kids I took care of. Better now, just wiped out.”

  “If you need to leave early, go ahead. No rush. No appointments today. I realize you’d need to catch up with your e-mails and the stack of memos on your desk.”

  “Thanks. I might take you up on that. Or take my laptop home and work from there.”

  “Either way, let Joanie know so she can forward or redirect your calls.”

  Dan groaned.

  “What?”

  “I totally forgot the voice mail. There’s probably a million of those too.”

  “Sorry, could be possible. I’ll let you get to it.”

  “Thanks.”

  The door closed and he grabbed a fresh piece of paper to start jotting notes from his voice mail. It was going to be a long morning.

  ~*~

  By 11:30, Dan was barely awake, so he packed up his laptop and drove home. Skye’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, which concerned him because she was normally home at that time to meet the kids. He went inside, placed his stuff in his apartment, and went across the hall to knock on her door. No answer.

  The outer door downstairs opened, and the kids came running up followed by their grandmother.

  “Dan? I thought you started work today.”

  “Yeah, home for lunch. Where’s Skye?”

  “She’s not here?” Sandi Richards went to knock on the door while the kids wrapped their arms around each of his legs.

  Dan shrugged and dropped down to give the kids hugs.

  “There’s no answer. I have a key but I can’t leave the kids alone and I need to get to my next job.” Sandi looked at him with pleading eyes and pursed lips. “Dan, I’d hate to ask…”

  “Why don’t the kids hang out at my place till Skye gets back?”

  Quinn and Meghan cheered and ran into his apartment.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked. Dan watched through the open door. The kids scattered their boots and coats all over.

  “No, but they need to be somewhere safe, and I’m home.”

  “You got the flu, didn’t you?”

  Dan nodded and frowned. “Last night. Didn’t get much sleep.”

  “And you left work to come home to rest.”

  Dan nodded. “Guess I better go make more coffee.”

  “I’ll text Skye to tell her. Hopefully she’s on her way and you’ll be relieved soon.”

  “Thanks, Sandi. Skye is lucky to have you.”

  “I’d like to think so…but she’s also blessed to have you in her life.”

  Sandi took off down the stairs and out the door. Dan sighed and went to his apartment and turned on the television. While the kids settled down he tried to figure out what, in his meager store of food, he could feed them.

  ~*~

  Really God? This is how You show Your love? Skye huddled in the back of the squad car. The officer had been nice enough to give her a blanket to help her warm up and the heat was on. Her head throbbed, but at least the seatbelt kept her from hitting the steering wheel when she’d been rear-ended at the stop light. As luck would have it, the driver who hit her drove away. Although his green car with a smashed front end should be easy enough for the police to locate in time. A song had been playing on the radio when she got hit, and the lyrics were about God making everything work together for her good. I think they’ve got it wrong.

  And her phone? Batteries were dead. She’d totally forgotten to hook it up to the charger last night.

  Her car was old and from what she could tell, undrivable. A tow truck was called to take it away. Oh, and lucky for her, car seats were not to be used after being involved in an accident. She was grateful at least her kids hadn’t been with her, given how the back end had scrunched the rear seat forward.

  Now she needed a new car and new car seats. She hardly had any money. She borrowed a phone to try to call her mom, but there’d been no answer. Her mother wouldn’t answer her cell while working. So where were her kids?

  The officer returned to the car. “Your tow-truck is here. You sure you don’t want a trip to the hospital?”

  “No. I need to get home to my kids.” She got out of the squad car and handed the blanket he had given her to the officer. “Thank you for letting me warm up.”

  The officer pointed her to the man hooking up her car.

  “Miss O’Connell, I thought this was your car. Are you OK?” Titus, the mechanic from yesterday, was her tow truck driver.

  “A little shook up, but also in need of a ride home.”

  “I can do that. Hop into the cab, the heater’s on. I’ll only be a minute.” He turned to finish securing her beat up car. Where would they even take it? What was the point?

  “Can I borrow your cell? I need to call my insurance.”

  “Sure.” He handed it over and she headed to the cab. She inhaled the warm air and shivered deep inside. She dialed the number, gave the information, and got a location as to where to drop off the car. Titus jumped back in and she handed him the address and filled out her insurance information for the towing.

  “Well, Miss O’Connell, why don’t we get you home first?”

  She nodded. “That would be great. I’ve been really worried about my kids. My cell phone battery was dead…”

  “Don’t sweat it. God’s got this covered.”

  “How can you say that? My car was just totaled.”

  “And you survived. Sure, your neck is going to be sore—I know a great chiropractor by the way—but it will heal. Your kids still have their mother. That’s cause to be grateful. Trust me, not every car I tow has a driver who walks away on her own two fuzzy, pink feet.”

  “Are you making fun of my boots?”

  Titus chuckled. “They suit you.”

  “Oh.”

  He dropped her off in the parking lot. Dan’s car was already there.

  “Looks like Dan came home early. You need anything you let him know…including a used car. Part of his job is connecting people together to see that needs are met. Not sure how he does it, as I swear most of that information is in his pretty, blond head.” He waved a hand at her. “I’m not putting him down. He can bench press with the best of them. He’s a great guy and I like to josh him a bit about the
attention he gets. Leaves us more rugged characters in the dust.”

  “Well, um. Thanks again, Titus. I’m sorry that battery was a wasted deal.”

  The mechanic shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Skye stepped down out of the truck and hauled her purse and gym bag after her. She gave a final wave, shut the door, and headed to the apartment building.

  A note hung on her door. Kids are at Dan’s. It was signed, Mom. Skye let out a sigh of relief and opened the apartment, dropping her stuff inside and plugging in her phone right away. She headed next door. She knocked and heard a muffled, “Give me a sec,” from inside.

  The door cracked open and Dan stood there with his finger pressed to his lips. “Shhh.”

  She walked inside. Pillows and blankets were strewn all over the middle of the living room.

  Dan whispered, “They’re napping in a tent fort.”

  “How…?”

  “Are you OK? Your mom was really worried, and I tried calling.”

  Skye shook her head. “My car was totaled in a hit and run. He hit me from behind at a stop sign.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Titus, the guy who fixed my car yesterday, was the tow truck driver. He brought me home. My phone battery was dead and I borrowed a phone to call my mom, but it went to voice mail. She must have been at work by the time I was able to try.” She looked at Dan. “Are you OK? I thought you were back at work today.”

  He pursed his lips and pointed to the laptop on the kitchen table. “I was sick during the night and came home to take a nap. I was here when Sandi arrived with the kids.”

  “Thank you, again. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

  “I don’t help you so that I can get anything in return.” His arms folded across his well-defined chest, and his voice was a little louder now.

  “Shhh! I don’t understand why you would help me.”

  “And why not?” Dan motioned for the door and they went to stand out in the hallway. “Listen, I know you’ve got some baggage from your past, but not everyone is a dirty lowlife wanting to take advantage of you. Sure, it’s wise to be careful who you trust. By now you should realize that I don’t do things to get something in return.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because you are an image-bearer of God. He created you. Special, talented, and unique. And you, like me, carry wounds from our past. Not to rip open by nasty behavior, but to be healed by your Creator. God loves you, Skye. How could I treat you in any other way than to help when I am able and to care about you as a person, because you are my neighbor? You know, you’ve helped me too.”

  “I have?”

  “Zumba, skiing, you let me play with your kids. Skye, the heartache I’ve carried for years of longing for kids? You can’t imagine. Every baby we lost was a knife stabbing in my heart. Sharon hurt even worse but she’s free of that now. Me? I still don’t have what you do in those precious children. I don’t begrudge you them. You have a difficult life as a single mom. But you’ve shared them and some of that has helped me in my own healing.”

  “You’ll marry again someday and have a family.”

  “Maybe. But you can’t promise me that. One of the hard things I learned was that I wasn’t as good a husband as I thought I was.”

  “Did your wife ever complain?”

  “No. That wasn’t her style. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt her anyway.” Dan shook his head. “I’m not the prize women think I am, Skye. And I don’t know if I ever could be.”

  “Aren’t you the one who says God loves me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then He loves you too, doesn’t He?”

  Dan nodded.

  “How come His love is good enough for me to have faith in but not yourself?” She held a hand up. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Give me a call when the kids are up and I’ll come take them off your hands. And again, thank you.” Skye turned and escaped into her own apartment.

  She went to make a cup of tea to warm herself up and took out some of the meat from last night to make a sandwich. She couldn’t believe she challenged Dan like that. He was a pastor. He knew this stuff better than her and she was lecturing him? She noticed how he treated people. She knew how he treated her. She’d seen the way he mourned his wife. Whatever his perceived sins were, they weren’t as bad as he thought they were. She was jealous of Sharon. His dead wife. A woman who held the steadfast love of a man.

  Something she’d never know.

  FOURTEEN

  We are either in the process of resisting God’s truth or in the process of being shaped and molded by His truth.

  Charles Stanley

  Once the kids were gone, Dan surveyed the damage. He managed to sleep for a short time on the sofa while the kids rested under their fort. Without a pillow though, it wasn’t the deep rest he needed. He dragged himself to the computer to keep hacking away at the e-mail, deleting some, making notes on others, and responding to many.

  He finally pushed away from the kitchen table, made a baked potato in the microwave, slathered on some butter and ate it for dinner. His first real meal of the day and even then he couldn’t keep it down.

  Skye’s words irritated him. She couldn’t see God’s love even though he and others had been showering her with it for weeks. Then, she turned the tables on him.

  She was right.

  She unflinchingly challenged him. Who had ever done that to him unless they had an agenda? At least that was sometimes his experience in ministry. Everyone thought their favorite ministry was the most important and would fight tooth and nail for every dollar of the budget they could get not realizing that the bigger picture of the church meant that they were all important.

  But even relationally, very few were willing to challenge his faith and his walk with God. Andrew had, and sometimes his accountability group were willing to wade into those waters. It wasn’t that he was hard-headed, but most people thought he should have it all together. They thought that he never struggled through times when prayer was difficult and God’s word seemed dry to his soul. They didn’t know he sometimes questioned the goodness of God even as he tried to remind others of how much God loved them.

  Few understood that loneliness ate at him and the silence of his apartment taunted him with all he had lost.

  And Skye called him on it. She’d been in a car accident, shaken up and frantic over her kids, and still, she looked past that and pierced the core of his issue. She wasn’t just an artist. She was a gift, a curse, and a beautiful temptation all wrapped up in one package. And she hadn’t accepted Christ yet. At least he didn’t think she had. He wanted to smack himself in the head. He hadn’t ever followed up with her. He’d never asked her about her reading in John and what she thought.

  And he realized why.

  Those conversations could lead to intimacy. Intimacy that was tempting and dangerous. He really needed to get her connected to some other, more mature women, to disciple her and answer her questions. He wanted to watch her grow in her faith, but he was too close and it could only lead to danger.

  Not that she was a threat to him.

  He was worried he would be a threat—or even a stumbling block to her.

  Obviously he hadn’t been doing as well as he thought anyway.

  He finished cleaning up from the meal and turned off the lights. It was early, but he didn’t care. He was depressing himself and he was bone weary. He collapsed into bed like a limp noodle.

  ~*~

  Dreams were supposed to be revelations, weren’t they? So why was he dreaming of her? Holding hands, taking a walk, and occasionally bumping into each other. The look of concern on her face as her petite figure towered over him in the snow. He believed she wanted to slap him when he started laughing. Her passion as she taught her fitness class. The love that shone through her eyes as she spoke to her children.

  He wanted passion, love, touch…and he wasn’t afraid of a
woman who poked the bear now and again without flinching.

  He wasn’t on a pedestal to her, but he didn’t understand why. How could he get others to take him off without him crashing and burning in the process?

  ~*~

  The next morning, he dragged himself to church, made the coffee, and prepared for the staff meeting.

  “Welcome back!” was the common refrain but his head pounded. He forced the smile and took his notes and listened to all that was going on in the church. Mary Beth came to visit him in his office when it was done.

  “Dan, you don’t look so hot.” She sat across from him in blue jeans, blouse, and cardigan sweater. Her office was always pretty cold.

  “I was sick over the weekend, and I still haven’t recovered.”

  “I heard you have a neighbor.”

  “Yeah, single mom of two little kids.”

  “You had those kids with you on Sunday. How’d that go?”

  “The kids were great. It was eye-opening.”

  “Re-open wounds?”

  Dan shrugged. “I grieve what Sharon and I lost. Being a single dad would have been a really difficult path to travel on top of the grief that almost buried me.”

  “It’s hard to look at loss like that in light of future blessings, but it doesn’t minimize the weight of that pain and the dreams that shattered with each death. Not only of those babies but also your wife.”

  “Yeah. It’s a difficult thing—being grateful and sad at the same time.”

  “Job must have struggled too. Losing all his children, his business, all his worldly possessions, his health…and then after struggling with his faith, God gave him all that and more.”

  Dan rubbed his forehead. “But that’s no guarantee…no promise…”

  “God didn’t ask Job to worship to get a reward. Ultimately, our greatest promise is heaven. No pain, no loss, no sorrow or people betraying us.”

  “A place with no sin. I can’t imagine.” Dan fought with the desire to hasten his journey there and victory didn’t mean the thoughts still didn’t intrude.

  “I understand. Hang in there. Wait on him. Keep healing and who knows? Maybe God will drop a wonderful surprise in your lap.”

  “Maybe. Before you go…here’s Skye O’Connell’s phone number. She said I could give it to you, but not Amy.”