Wisdom Tree

by Mary Manners

  Back then, Pastor Julian’s body was weakened by the progression of time, but his mind was sharp. Oh, the stories they shared over the weeks and months that followed! Pastor Julian had ministered to a series of little country churches for nearly sixty years, and Jake found himself fascinated by the rich history in simple reflections of a life well lived. What Jake had thought would be nothing more than a passing community service event for the youth had grown into a deep friendship. Jake assumed he’d counsel Pastor Julian, but in the end, the reverse was actually true—over the months Pastor Julian had become his anchor in a sea of chaos.

  But Pastor Julian had begun to have episodes of confusion due to the onset of Alzheimer’s. And these episodes took the life from him, like a leech slowly sucking away bits and pieces of what was good. Pastor Julian had been married to his high school sweetheart, Ava, for sixty-two years before a massive stroke claimed her a few winters ago. They had no children of their own, and Pastor Julian never elaborated as to why. But Jake quickly became the grandson Pastor Julian never had, and their bond grew as strong as the trunk of a solid old oak.

  As Jake neared the end of the hall, he turned his attention to a burst of commotion. Something inside Pastor Julian’s room—most likely the cane he still insisted he was capable of using— tumbled to the floor. Then the door swung wide, and a nurse let Jake in. Pastor Julian was sobbing. Big, sloppy tears covered his mottled face like a flowing river, wrenching Jake’s heart. Jake went to the wheelchair, fell to his knees and slipped his hand into Pastor Julian’s.

  “Hey there.” Jake stroked the man’s callused fingers, and he relaxed almost immediately at the sound of Jake’s voice. “What’s the matter?”

  “I smell the spearmint, Jake, and I see her.”

  “Ava?” A shiver snaked down Jake’s spine. He smelled the strong scent of spearmint, too. How could that be?

  “Yes.” Pastor Julian tugged at Jake’s shirt with his arthritic hand. “She’s near the pond, and I have to go. She’s waiting for me.”

  Jake turned his attention to the huge picture window that overlooked a large, tree-shaded pond beyond a black-topped walking trail. A pretty white gazebo stood at one end, its interior filled with bench seats. Majestic willows swayed in the breeze, their long, narrow leaves scattered across the water and along the bank. Pastor Julian liked to visit the pond, especially on warm fall days, and gaze at the water as leaves fluttered and danced along the surface. On occasion, he swore he saw Ava standing on the shore waiting for him.

  Sometimes the pond was crowded with residents, most in wheelchairs or leaning on canes. Other times, it was deserted. Now he caught a glimpse of a woman with a shock of white hair. She sat in a chair with oversized wheels as she was pushed back toward the center by—

  Is that Carin?

  “Let’s take a walk, Pastor Julian.” Jake glanced at the nurse, and she nodded slightly. Then he reached for Pastor Julian’s wire-framed glasses and slipped them over the older man’s bulbous nose. “It’s a nice evening to go down to the pond.”

  “Hurry, Jake.” The man’s arthritic hands trembled, but his voice filled with youthful enthusiasm. “I don’t like to keep Ava waiting.”

  Jake felt the same measure of excitement as he gazed through the window, to the lithe woman with curls that danced on a breeze.

  6

  There was no football practice that Friday afternoon since the high school team used the field for a game, so Jake picked up Corey from school, and they headed to the greenway for a quick run. Running was something they’d gotten into together soon after Corey came to live with Jake. Corey had a lot of trouble sleeping, and when he did finally fall asleep each night, more often than not he was plagued by nightmares. So Jake had taken him to the pediatrician, who’d recommended running. They’d hit the greenway that same afternoon, and Corey slept through the night for the first time in weeks. Now they scheduled a run together at least twice a week.

  “How’s English class?” Jake asked as they slid into the second mile. The weather felt perfect for a long run—slightly cool and dry, with a mild breeze. The scent of mulched leaves filled the air with the musky scent of fall.

  “OK. It’s school.” Corey breathed easily, as if taking a lazy summer stroll. Jake struggled to control his panting as his heart rate spiked.

  “You fill up that journal yet?”

  “I’m trying. It’s not as hard as I thought it would be.”

  “Most things aren’t.”

  “Miss O’Malley said I’m doing a lot better. She said to tell you…um…hi, too.”

  “Is that so?” Yesterday evening at the senior center, Carin and the ashen-haired woman in the wheelchair were gone by the time Jake made it to the pond with Pastor Julian. Now he wondered if he’d imagined the whole thing. He’d visited the center at least once a week for the past year and had never run into Carin there. So, what was she doing there now?

  Finding his second wind, Jake picked up the pace. “Is that all Miss O’Malley said?”

  “What else did you expect?” Corey matched him before edging into the lead then glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh, no. Hold up a minute. I know where this is headed. You’re not gonna embarrass me and ask her out, are you?”

  “I thought you prayed for me to find a girlfriend.” Jake lengthened his stride and pushed a little harder, taking the lead back. “Change your mind?”

  “No, but not her.” Corey’s legs pumped double-time to match Jake’s pace. “Because that would be totally gross—you dating my teacher. I’d never survive it, so just wipe the idea from your mind.”

  “That bad, huh?” Jake frowned at him.

  “Well, yeah.” Corey jabbed a finger at his own throat and pretended to gag, all the while not breaking stride. “Just shoot me now, and get it over with.”

  “Not until I race you to the finish line.” Jake motioned down the greenway, pointing out a stand of trees that marked the unofficial finish. “You’re going to lose.”

  “Not today.” Corey leaned into the breeze and pumped his arms harder.

  “We’ll see.” Jake broke into a sprint. Corey’s tennis shoes slapped the pavement as he adjusted his pace and worked to close the gap. They shared the lead until Jake burst ahead, just shy of the finish line. His longer stride gave him an edge, but it wouldn’t last much longer. If Corey hit another growth spurt or two, he’d match Jake in height soon enough. Jake crossed the imaginary finish line and put on the brakes, doubling over to catch his breath. “Sorry, buddy, but you’re gonna have to work harder than that if you want to beat me,” he gasped.

  “Just wait ’til next time.” Corey leaned forward and sucked air. “I’m getting faster every week.”

  “True.” Jake swiped sweat from his brow, urging his heart rate down a notch. “But so am I.”

  Corey was sure to sleep like a baby tonight. Mission accomplished.

  When they both caught their breath and cooled a bit, they headed toward the Jeep. Sweat-soaked clothes clung to flushed skin.

  Corey lifted the passenger door latch. “I edited the first two stories for the school newspaper this afternoon,” he shared as he climbed into the seat.

  “How’d it go?” Jake tugged off his sweatshirt, wiped his face in the cotton, and tossed the soiled shirt into the back seat of the Jeep before slipping into the driver’s seat.

  “It was awesome. Miss O’Malley gave me my own pack of orange pens. She said I can’t use green, ’cause that’s her own special color for slashing essays, but orange is even better, I think. It stands out more.”

  Jake laughed. “It does, huh?”

  “Yeah. I got to rip apart Stu Bishop’s story on the football homecoming game. He’s such a wise—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Guy. I was gonna say guy.”

  “Sure, you were.”

  “Anyway, I felt the power. Rip, rip.” Corey’s hand slashed the air like a sword. “It was pretty cool.”

  “Sounds like Mis
s O’Malley may have unleashed a monster—Slasher Junior. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Famous last words.” Jake cranked the engine. “Let’s grab a quick shower and head to church. You have your guitar lesson tonight, and I’ve got some work to finish up before that groundskeeper’s meeting tomorrow. Then we both need to hit the hay, because there’s a lot of work to be done.”

  “There’s always a lot of work to be done,” Corey groaned. “But it gives me something to write about—besides you, that is.”

  “Yeah. We should talk about that—you using me for your essay fodder.”

  “I’m just following orders—write, write, write.” Corey nodded. “Besides, I think Miss O’Malley likes reading about you.”

  “She does, huh?”

  “Yeah. You’re worth at least a B—usually an A.”

  Jake laughed and wondered if God had sent him Carin O’Malley for a reason he had yet to fully understand. The twist in his gut…the spike in his pulse…made Jake wonder if Corey’s offhanded prayers really were being answered.

  There was only one way to find out.

  ****

  Carin poured a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. Scooter brushed up against her legs and she lifted him onto her lap and stroked his sleek, gray fur while he purred like a well-tuned engine. The scent of tuna from his food bowl wafted, and Carin wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t a big fan of tuna.

  Her cell phone sat in the center of the table, and she replayed the latest voicemail message in her mind as her heart raced.

  “Carin.” Phillip’s smooth-as-honey business voice came over the line so clearly, that for a moment she froze with the fear he was standing right behind her. She could almost feel his hot breath burning her neck, as it had that awful night of Cameron’s memorial service. A sob escaped her lips, because his speech was slurred, and she knew he was drunk—just like he was loaded that night, when he’d hurt her with his words…his actions. “I know you’re listening to this. You should have never left Nashville…left me. Don’t you know how much your leaving hurt me…and my chance to make Senior Partner? If you say a word to your father about what happened, you know what I’ll do. You’re just as guilty as I am. You know as well as I do that what happened was just as much your fault as mine. You made me crazy, Carin, and you ruined everything.” He paused with a menacing sigh of frustration, and she pictured the storm in his gaze, the tight clench of his fists as he lifted them. “Fine, don’t pick up so we can talk this through. I hope you sleep well tonight. Dream of me.”

  Carin tamped the urge to toss her phone into the trash. But instead, let the message replay just long enough to hit the delete button.

  It made the fifth message this month—second this week. The calls were escalating. She should have known running away wouldn’t make things go away, too. He’d always be able to find her…nothing would change that.

  Carin drew a deep breath and forced tears back. Her cell phone chimed, startling her so her heart pummeled her ribs. She reached for the phone as if touching it might scald her and checked the caller ID.

  She flipped open the phone and pressed it to her ear. “Dad?”

  “Hi, honey. How are things there?”

  Her voice caught, and suddenly tears pooled in her eyes. “Good…but I miss you.”

  “Are you OK? It sounds like you’re crying.”

  “No. I just…” Tell him, her conscience battled. No. He’ll be crushed, and then his heart…”It’s just my friend, Lilly. When I went to visit last night, she had another episode.”

  “They seem to be increasing in frequency.” Her father’s voice was crowded with concern. “Do you really think it’s wise for you to keep seeing her? Haven’t you been through enough, losing your mom and then Cameron—both in such a short period of time?”

  “You lost them, too.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Most of the time Lilly’s fine, and I really enjoy the visits.” Carin struggled to steady her voice. “She’s teaching me how to crochet so I can help her with the baby caps.” She sniffled and brushed a tear from her eye. Guilt plagued her. It was wrong to lead him to think Lilly was the reason she was upset. If he only knew the real reason. “How’s everything at the firm?”

  “Busy as usual. I’m interviewing for another Senior Partner.”

  “Good. You need help, Dad. The doctor said you have to lighten your load and rest more. You can’t keep up the pace you’ve been pushing yourself to manage. It’s dangerous.”

  “I’m still strong as an ox, so don’t you fret, Carin. Let me do the worrying.”

  She sighed. There was no point in arguing with a seasoned attorney like Dad. “Well, are there any prospects for the position?”

  “I’ve been considering Phillip, but he seems a bit…out of sorts lately.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”

  “Well, Phillip has always been my first choice. You know that, Carin. But I’m not sure your mom would feel the same.”

  “No?” This was a revelation. “Why not?”

  “Nothing she could put her finger on. She just…had a feeling. You know how Mom was.”

  “Yes, I do.” Carin’s voice caught. “Why didn’t she ever say anything to me?”

  “Because you were in love with him, honey.” Her dad paused. “Are you still in love with him?”

  “No. I…don’t want to talk about it.” Carin dropped a tea bag into a cup and drowned it in boiling water from the teapot, then stirred in a spoonful of sugar as she watched it steep. “When are you coming for a visit, Dad?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  “I can’t. I’m just settling into teaching here. I’m covered up in work.” She had no desire to return to Nashville. There was a good chance she never would…if she could help it.

  “Me, too.”

  “You should consider a vacation. Or you could come to East Ridge and stay with me for a while, and work from here. There’s so much you can do over the Internet. It would be just like working at the office.”

  “Honey, I’m just getting ready to go to trial with a big case. I can’t leave now.”

  “But I miss you, Dad. Mom would have wanted…” She caught herself. Guilting her dad into coming for a visit wasn’t the answer, no matter how much she missed him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s OK.” He sighed, and then redirected. “Tell you what. As soon as this case is done, I’ll take a break and come to see you. Give me a couple of weeks—a month, tops.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “That would be great, Dad.”

  Carin removed the teabag from the cup as an awkward silence ensued. When her dad finally spoke, his voice was low—the voice he used when sharing important, confidential information with a client. “Carin, did you leave here because of Phillip…because of whatever happened there?”

  “Please don’t ask, Dad. I don’t want to discuss it. Not now, at least. Maybe when you come to visit?”

  “Can you wait that long, honey?”

  “I…um…” She choked, sputtered, and bumped the cup so tea sloshed over the side to stain the counter. She quickly changed the subject. “I—I have to go now. I’ve got papers to grade and Hailey’s waiting for me to call.”

  “Well…OK.” She heard the catch in his voice, and it tore her heart just a bit. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I love you, too. Come soon, OK?” She pressed the end button and laid the phone on the counter. Oh, how I wish Mama was still here. She’d listen and know what to do. Why hadn’t her mother shared what she sensed about Phillip? It would have made things so much easier in the long run.

  She remembered Cameron’s funeral, and it felt like a dream. Phillip was there, and he portrayed himself as the doting boyfriend, bringing her water, holding
her hand. She’d felt comforted, felt like she had an ally as she struggled to keep her dad from collapsing under the stress of losing his only son so soon after losing his wife.

  Then Phillip disappeared, and when she went to the parking lot for a gulp of fresh air—to ease the ache from her heart—she heard his voice carry on the breeze. He was laughing, mocking her voice, nasally with grief-filled tears. As she rounded the corner, she saw the raven-haired woman, too—an intern from her father’s office.

  The two were locked in an embrace, Phillip’s cheek nuzzled in her dark hair. The words he spoke slashed like a knife. “I’ll tell her I’m heading back to the office to finish up some work for her father. She’ll never know the difference. Then I’ll meet you at your place. Give me an hour.”

  The intern giggled as she slipped a hand beneath his suit jacket. “I’ll be waiting…”

  Carin eased back around the corner, caught between staying and fleeing. Phillip appeared suddenly, plowing into her, and bile leapt into her throat.

  “In a hurry?” she asked.

  “I…um…” It was a rare occurrence of speechlessness on his part. “I was coming to look for you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you were.” And she spun on her heel, marching back toward the building as tears blinded her. “Go to your meeting, Phillip. Your work here is finished.”

  She’d foolishly believed the pain that ripped through her at that very moment was the worst she’d ever feel. Little did she know the months to come would deal even more excruciating blows.

  The grandfather clock in the living room chimed the hour, drawing Carin back. She reached for the delicate floral teacup from the set that used to belong to her mom and held the warm cup in both hands as she sipped chamomile tea. Her thoughts drifted to Jake…his easy smile and quick humor. Somehow, his gentle demeanor calmed the storm of doubts that swept through her. Could it be that God had brought them together for a purpose she had yet to fully understand?