by I Beacham
Sam knew Harry wasn’t living with his parents now. “What happened?”
“He hit Helen.” Milo sighed. Sam reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. “He got angry one night because we didn’t like his drinking. It made him worse, more unreasonable. Helen told him she wasn’t going to stand for it anymore, not in her own home. Harry lashed out.”
“Did he mean to hit her?” Sam asked.
“Yes. It was at the top of the stairs. Helen fell backward down them, and I had to call an ambulance. When the police arrived, I told them what happened. They arrested Harry and charged him with assault. That sounds hard, but we were desperate and didn’t know what to do. We saw it as a way to get help. And out of bad came good because he did get help and things started to change…for the better.”
“Because he hit Helen.” Sam didn’t know any of this. She suspected no one else did either.
“Yes,” Milo said.
“Was she okay?”
“Thank, God, yes. Harry started counseling. A few of his army buddies helped him too. One got him onto a training course where he’s learned to fell all sizes of trees. He’s now got himself a job working for the forestry commission down in Hampshire. It’s a solitary type of job, but he’s really taken to it.” Milo started laughing. “He lives in a hut in the forest, but it has running water and electricity so not as bad as it sounds. He’s grown a beard and has long hair. He looks like a real caveman and nothing like the smart lad he used to be, but he’s calmer and happier. I think he’s repairing slowly. He’s got some control back in his life. He even runs the occasional day course for schoolchildren. They come to the forest, and he shows them around, talking to them about the eco system.”
“I’m really glad things are better,” Sam said.
“Me, too. I’d love it if he got back with Cheryl, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. But he’s closer to the kids again.”
“Thank you for sharing this with me, Milo.”
“I don’t know who your friend of a friend is, but they need to get the right help. It’s not something they can fix by themselves. We’ve all learned that the hard way.”
Milo only confirmed what Sam knew. Joey needed professional help. Her problem was getting Joey to see that.
*
Joey broke the news to Sam while they were out on a bike ride. It was a couple of weeks after the incident with Carrie; their relationship was good. The recent misunderstanding had deepened their bond. Joey’s declaration that she loved Sam had helped.
“Sam, I’ve decided to take my vacation and fly back to Baltimore to see my folks. I know they’re missing me. They’re worried. The last time I was with them, I was in bits.”
Joey’s parents were always there for her, full of love and support. She’d kept them at arm’s length when she’d returned from Syria. She needed to let them know she was okay…even if she had to fake it. She also wanted to talk to them about the job offer Stallion Productions was proposing. Her mom and dad were good sounding boards. Despite her professional capability, she never felt too old or experienced to ask what they thought. She wanted to talk to Sam about it, too, but now wasn’t the right time. Sam was busy and stressed. Joey would talk to her when she returned.
“You’re going to be real busy,” Joey said. “So I’m going home to spend time with them.”
Sam was taking Joey’s vacation plans on the chin. Though she looked disappointed, Joey could hear the understanding.
“It’s the right thing to do, Joey. My schedule is scary, and you won’t see much of me if you stay. Hey, I’m not going to see much of me,” Sam jested. “I think it’ll do you good to see your parents, and you can thank your father personally for getting my bike rolling again.”
Joey scoffed. Her dad would like nothing better than to talk bikes. She wrapped an arm around Sam as they stood by the bike on a hillside looking out over a sweeping, majestic country scene. There were rolling hills before them, full of grazing sheep. The way the sun fell, it was a photographer’s dream.
“You are going to come back, aren’t you? You’re not going to stay?”
Sam’s sudden seriousness jolted Joey.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” she said.
Occasionally, Sam’s concerns for Joey escaped. Joey knew how frustrated Sam was. She wanted Joey to get help, but every time she broached the topic, Joey got unreasonable and temperamental, refusing to discuss it. Sam tried hard not to say too much, but Joey could almost hear her thinking.
She leaned into Sam, tightening her arm around her.
“Why would I do that? I love you, you loon.” Joey turned to make eye contact. She wanted to chase the frown off Sam’s face.
“Sam, when I was hiding from the rebels, I had a lot of time to think. Part of that involved awareness…some of it not too pleasant. If I died out there, few people would really miss me.”
Sam tried to interrupt. Joey stopped her.
“No, you listen. Sure, work colleagues would declare how tragic it was to lose such a consummate professional and wonderful associate. They would probably broadcast a special on TV showing how I’d become what I was, and talk about the highlights of my career…the awards I’ve been honored with. It’s the general accepted thing to do. But really, only a few friends would genuinely miss me—”
“I can’t believe—”
“—and my parents. They’d be devastated.”
Joey had lain in the cramped confines of that cabinet and thought of the death of her team.
“Sam, all my friends who died, they were honorable men with loving families. I promised myself that if I got out of there, I’d be a better person. I would change. I would live my life honorably, too. I’d never again treat relationships superficially as I once did. I promised myself that if I survived, I would live my personal life to a better moral code.” She paused deliberately so Sam would really hear what she said next.
“Now I’ve met you, Sam. I’m in love with you. You’re everything to me. So…” she gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, “you bet your ass I’m coming back, kiddo.”
When Joey flew home, Sam couldn’t take her to the airport because of work. A neighbor of Elsa’s did.
As the plane taxied out on to the runway, Joey felt as if her heart was made of lead. She hated leaving Sam. She was already counting the days till she came back.
Chapter Eleven
Joey was gone, and Sam immersed herself in work.
It wasn’t difficult to do. She rose early and went to bed late. Despite her crazy schedule, Sam couldn’t shift the thoughts of how she never had enough time for Joey. Her own anxieties rose once more.
She sensed time ticking away, and with it her life. Her calling to serve God was no longer strong enough to paper over growing cracks. Sam again grew frightened as she realized she had no life of her own beyond the boundaries of the church. Joey’s arrival had brought her hope, but now that seemed threatened by the very vocation that was strangling her.
Louise’s sage words haunted her. Love and life. Joey had reawakened desires and dreams in Sam. Was this her last chance for happiness? Did Joey feel the same as she did, that this might be for the long term? She’d told Sam she loved her. Sam didn’t doubt her. So what was Sam going to do? Her day job was interfering way too much.
The day after Joey flew home, Sam conducted the early morning service at St. Mary’s. Straight after, she drove to the bishop’s office at the Old Palace in Worcester. It was Neil’s official residence and where he normally worked. Sam needed to see him.
When she got to his office, she was greeted warmly by his secretary. Ann Brown was a woman Sam considered a friend. Over the years, and different bishops, they’d interacted a lot. Familiarity had turned to friendship.
“Sorry, Sam, but he’s in a meeting on culture and heritage. After that, he’s straight into a business lunch and another meeting for international development. I wish you’d phoned. I could have saved you a journey.”
Sam didn’t care. “What about tomorrow?”
“He’s off down to Lambeth Palace to see the archbishop. The rest of the week doesn’t look good either.”
Something on Sam’s face made Ann frown.
“But I can always interrupt if it’s an emergency.”
With a heavy heart, Sam acknowledged that her personal life wasn’t exactly an emergency. “No, Ann. It can wait. It’ll have to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Sam tried to smile, but her lips weren’t playing.
“I’ll let Bishop Neil know you were here.”
“No, don’t do that, Ann. It’ll only worry him. I can catch him later.”
Sam drove back to St. Mary’s.
She was still there early evening when Neil strode down the aisle toward her. He wore his concern like a cloak. Sam wondered what Ann had said.
“What’s wrong?”
He wasted no time in getting to the point. He knew something was up. She’d never turned up at his office before, unannounced and troubled.
Suddenly, Sam had no words. She felt like a load of stitching coming loose. All she could do was shake her head.
He guided her to a pew, and they sat down.
“Talk to me, Sam.” When Neil gave anyone his attention, it was intense, sincere, and genuine. Sam felt that now, his voice with its deep tone instantly soothing her.
“I’m struggling, Neil.”
He studied her face as if an answer lay there.
Sam didn’t know how or where to start. Neil made a best guess.
“Would it help if I said I might have found some extra manpower? There’s a recently ordained priest who has shown interest in the parish. And I’ve an eye on another with more experience. I’ve called for their reports so I can make an assessment. I can’t get either of them until after Christmas, but if you can struggle on until then.”
Neil’s guess was wrong. Not so long ago, he’d have been spot-on, but now Sam knew this was more. She could see he recognized that almost before he finished talking.
“It isn’t that, Neil.”
He shifted awkwardly. “Are you losing your faith? It’s something we all go through, but often it comes back stronger than before.”
“I can’t imagine you suffering that,” Sam said.
“I did. When Charlie died.”
Charlie was Neil and Miriam’s youngest child. He’d died eight years ago after a boating accident.
“What changed?” Sam asked, grateful for the temporary respite.
“Miriam.” His smile was haunted. “She made me talk and not bury my grief. We grew closer. My faith came back…in time.”
“I never knew.” Sam recalled the tragedy, and how it nearly destroyed him. She hadn’t known it had tested his faith.
“Not something either of us could talk about.”
She understood.
“Is that what this is all about, Sam? Losing your faith?”
She managed a smile and put him out of his misery.
“No. My faith is as strong as the day I entered the church. God is part of me. He’s in every breath I take. I feel him in my very fingertips.”
“Then what is it?”
“I thought I knew this morning, but now I don’t. I just don’t feel right doing this anymore…being a vicar.”
He ran a hand across his face. “But you’re a wonderful vicar. You do know that, don’t you? Everybody loves you, especially your congregation. You were born for this.”
“Maybe, but that’s part of it. I chunter on and do everything I’m supposed to, but it isn’t enough anymore. In the past few years, I’ve had this increasing feeling deep inside that I’m missing out on life. When I’m not darting around like a blue-ass fly, it comes over me, and it’s growing in strength. It’s such a heavy feeling, Neil. I try to tell myself it’s selfish, that it’ll pass. But it won’t be dismissed. I can’t talk my way out of it and convince myself to see things differently.”
“You’re overworking. You need a break.”
“If only it were that simple, but it isn’t. It started way before all of this.” She pointed to the roof repairs. “Where’s my life, Neil? Where does Reverend Samantha Savage stop, and Sam start?”
Neil was at a loss to answer.
“What does this mean?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I only know I’m unhappy.”
Neil eyeballed her, his compassion evident. “We can’t have that, Sam. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I wish I knew. You must think I sound ridiculous. It’s like loving wood, and wanting to work with wood, but not wanting to be a carpenter. I know I’m not making sense.”
Neil had resorted to biting a fingernail. It was a habit he had when things got beyond him. It only made her feel worse.
“In all the years I’ve known you,” he said, “I’ve never considered you ridiculous or selfish. Far from it, you’ve been reliable, a staunch supporter, and the voice of reason when needed. You’ve also put up with all these manpower shortages, church repairs, and continued on with little complaining. What’s pushed you over the edge?”
Joey.
Sam couldn’t tell him that. She wanted to be with Joey, but ecclesiastical matters always got in the way. It shouldn’t have to be like this. She shrugged.
“Why did you want to see me, Sam?”
“It all seems so stupid now.” Sam was embarrassed. Earlier, with Ann, she’d been frightened.
“What?”
“I had some silly idea in my head, but it’s gone now.”
“Like?”
“I wanted to drop everything and run.”
“But you don’t now?”
“No. I’m calmer.” Sam wasn’t sure she was. “And I guess I just needed a friend to talk to.” She smiled and was grateful when he smiled back.
“Let me do some thinking,” Neil said.
“What can you do?”
“I don’t know, but let me think. Mind if I tell Miriam?”
“Of course not.”
The two of them were like Siamese twins and the closest friends she had.
“It’s a pity you don’t have someone special in your life,” he said.
Neil’s passing comment was spoken with the right intent, but his words struck hard. It was exactly what was gnawing away at Sam. She wanted something more…someone in her life. Again, Louise’s voice filled her head.
Leave a little space for life and love.
Mindful she’d dumped her anxieties on Neil, she changed the subject.
“Why are you off to Lambeth tomorrow?”
“You were right,” Neil said evenly. “The archbishop does want me on his team. I’ve been called to talk to him tomorrow to discuss the whens and hows of my moving down to London.”
Though she’d guessed this was going to happen, the news still shocked her. Her friends would be leaving. Her sense of isolation grew.
“When?” she asked.
“Don’t worry. It won’t be until after Christmas. Miriam refuses to budge till the festive season is over, and I have commitments I insist I see through…one of which is to get your church problems sorted.” He stared at her. “And I will.”
When Neil left, Sam wasn’t sure she felt better, but she was glad she’d shared her problems.
The simple act of talking to Neil brought some clarity.
Neil had unconsciously voiced it. He thought it a pity no one was in her life.
But how could there be? She was a vicar and vicars didn’t have same-sex partners. Some had crossed that barrier, but it always brought controversy. She now realized that she was willing to face that if it meant having Joey by her side, but she worried how the sensational press on both sides of the Atlantic would affect Joey’s fragile psyche. And if they did become a twosome, Sam would want marriage. She believed in that. Would Joey?
Sam stopped herself. It was ridiculous thinking of this without knowing what Joey wanted.
Sam didn�
�t want to think anymore. She was tired and emotional. Instead, she locked up the church and headed home.
Chapter Twelve
There’s no place like home.
Joey smiled as she lay in bed at her parents’ place in Baltimore. It wasn’t her childhood home, and she’d never lived here, but it felt good. There was still familiarity in the surroundings—the smells, furniture, photographs, all the things she’d grown up with. There was still the same stamp of love in the house.
Her mom and dad met her at the airport, and from the moment she saw their excited, smiling faces and fell into their warm embrace, she knew she’d made the right decision to come home.
They had changed. They looked older, and yet it hadn’t been so long since she’d last seen them. Joey realized she hadn’t taken much notice of anything since her return from Balshir. Now she noticed how her father, Len, no longer walked straight and tall. There was a curve to his stance, and the familiar spring in his step was gone. She’d been unaware of that during their recent Skype calls about motorbike problems. Ann, her mother, was ten years younger than her father. She still had beautifully golden coiffured hair, and was immaculately dressed in the latest fashion that showed off her slim, agile figure. But there were lines on her face that hadn’t been there before—or maybe they had, but Joey hadn’t noticed.
But they were beyond happy to have her home.
She was happy too.
When the excitement of her return, and the superficial chitchat gave way to deeper talks; it was clear they were worried about her. Her mother droned on about her not having put any of the weight back on that she’d lost in Syria. Actually, she had, but she knew she wasn’t back to what she’d been before. It also didn’t take them long to realize she wasn’t sleeping and that the nightmares she’d suffered before she went to England were still there.
She balanced their concerns by telling them about her new job and the possibility of an extension, or even a more permanent contract. They were disappointed that she might stay overseas, but then they’d always accepted she was no homebody. Both thought Stallion Productions was a better option, especially given the continued U.S. media interest in her. The press had raised its ugly head the moment she entered the airport terminal. Some trigger-happy photographer had spied her, and her photograph had appeared in the national press the next day much to her father’s anger.
