by Tessa Walton
“What a joke,” Jessica said. “Scaring a poor innocent woman half to death.”
“Do you officers have any other questions?” Randall asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, but slammed the door in their face.
“Well, a talking-to certainly worked,” Nate scoffed.
Jessica shrugged. “We have no proof it was him. We’ll just tell Dove to keep a close watch and find him in the act if he tries anything again.”
“Right,” Nate said, getting back in the car. Now he was beginning to feel a bit bad for never believing Dove. If he had known someone was actually peeking in her windows, he would’ve been much nicer. It was a policeman’s job to listen to such problems, after all. He supposed he owed her an apology. He wasn’t sure if he would actually give one yet.
They drove to Dove’s house next, and Nate knocked on the door. It was Teressa that answered. “Did you find the guy?” she asked.
“The man who sent the flowers was Russell Peterson,” Nate said.
“So are you going to arrest him?”
“Unfortunately, we have no proof he was the one on your property. For now, Ms. Babcock, we’d like you to keep watch and warn us if there are any more problems.”
“It’s not him,” Dove said, and everyone turned to look at her.
“What?” Nate said. “We talked to the flower shop. He sent the roses.”
“Maybe he sent the roses, but he wasn’t the one who looked in my window. I told you—right, Teressa?—that he had a straight nose, sharp. Russell’s nose is round and big. It wasn’t him.”
“Ms. Babcock, maybe you were confused. You were scared. That can change perception,” Jessica said.
“I wasn’t confused,” Dove said.
“Well, if you have any more problems, feel free to call us.”
“Don’t you have something to say? Since there really was someone outside her window?” Teressa asked, looking straight at Nate.
If Dove had said they caught the guy, Nate probably would’ve apologized. But she wasn’t believing them. She had this stupid idea that someone else was after her. He didn’t see how he could apologize to her for that. “I think that’s all. Call us if you have any problems, and we can get him on trespassing and maybe stalking.”
“It’s not done, because it’s not him,” Dove said. Nate was so annoyed, he turned and walked out the door.
Chapter Three
Dove felt Teressa’s eyes on her as the cops were leaving. Of course she thought she was crazy. Didn’t everyone else? “It’s not him,” Dove said, trying to stop the awkward silence.
“Dove, I really think it was.”
“Do you know what I’m named after?” Dove snapped. She knew Teressa was probably sick of this argument. It wasn’t her first time using it, and it wasn’t Teressa’s first time responding to it.
“The dove that descended on Jesus when he was baptized,” Teressa said, clearly bored.
“Exactly. The Holy Spirit. And the Holy Spirit is telling me it’s not him.”
“I still don’t think that’s how it works,” Teressa said. “I could say the Holy Spirit is telling me he is.”
“Look, can’t you trust me?” Dove asked. “I saw him. It wasn’t Russell. Maybe he sent the flowers, but he didn’t peek into my window. Who knows, maybe he even bought the flowers for someone else. Everyone knows he’ll do anything to earn a couple bucks.”
“And I suppose you would be able to smell the booze through the window,” Teressa said with a laugh.
“Teressa, that’s not kind,” Dove said.
“This guy is terrifying you,” Teressa said. “I don’t feel particularly kind.”
“So you still believe it’s him?” Dove asked.
“Yes, I do.”
Dove wanted to scream at her, to shake her, to find a way to get it through her skull that she had seen the guy, and she knew what she had seen. She had been calm in the moment, not fear-fueled and hallucinating. It had been a different guy. She had seen him. That’s all there was to it.
“Just go,” Dove said. She didn’t like sitting with people she was mad at. She would rather be alone. As a child, whenever she was angry, her mother sent her to her room to cool off. Now, whenever anger was getting the best of her, she tried to recreate it by setting up space to be alone and think.
“What?” Teressa asked.
“Your diner needs you. If it really was Peterson, and the police talked to him, then I have nothing to worry about. So you may as well leave.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Get out of here. I’ll see you at church tomorrow.”
Chapter Four
“I can’t believe you got Sundays off,” Lieutenant Leslie Monroe said, as she sat in the Lunch Box Diner. The log cabin diner always had every surface wiped down and displayed black-and-white photographs of the town in the past. They had the best eggs in the morning, and Nate knew how Leslie liked her eggs. Generally, he paid, and she gave him some help on his cases.
“You know how many complaints there would be from the church folk if I wasn’t there to lead worship?”
“You’re just lucky your sister is my best friend, or I’d be making complaints myself,” Leslie said, then switched topics. “Any interesting cases?”
“Well, it seems like we caught Dove Babcock’s stalker,” he said.
“Seems like?”
“She swears she saw the guy out of the window, and it wasn’t the same guy. But everything connects back to him. He sent her a threatening message with some flowers. Well, maybe threatening isn’t the best word. It said ‘I see you.’”
“As a woman I would probably be a bit threatened by that, unless it made sense from someone I know.”
“Yeah, so anyway, this guy sends her the flowers, yet she swears it’s not him.”
“A woman’s intuition is a strong thing,” Leslie said. “Maybe you should trust it.”
“I don’t think I believe in women’s intuition,” Nate answered.
“Well, you’re young yet. You’ll learn.”
“You’re only a few years older than me,” he protested.
“Six years makes a lot of difference. Tell me a six-year-old isn’t different from a baby,” Leslie said.
Nate couldn’t help but scoff. He hated being the young, new cop on the block. Of course everyone treated him as if he knew nothing. As if he’d only be useful after twenty years on the force. He knew the feeling wouldn’t last, but it sucked in the moment. “People age differently when they’re adults.”
“You’ll see. So, that girl you met while you were in training, she ever call you back?”
“Sarah. And no.”
“You still sound disappointed,” Leslie pointed out.
“She was perfect, don’t you see it? Tall and beautiful. Funny. Put together. She loved God, and rottweilers, and thought pink was the best color in the sunset. But I think it’s about time that I stop expecting her to call back,” Nate said. He had spent a good deal of time hung up on a woman training with him, but even though she had given him her phone number, and it was her on the voicemail, she had never called him back. He only called her twice, not wanting to be pushy, but it was making him antsy. It had been a few months now, and he figured he could be pretty certain she never was going to call him back, even though a week ago she texted him “hey” late at night, and he had tried to call in response.
“That may be for the best. But why not try looking for someone new? You don’t want to be alone forever, do you?” she asked.
“I’m not going to be alone forever,” he answered. “Just a second ago you were talking about how young I am.”
“But you won’t stay young long. And this job, it can be hard if you have no normalcy to go home to. I think it would be best for everyone if you found yourself a lady.”
“Maybe I’ll try,” he said, though he had no intention of doing that. Even if Sarah never called him back, he thought he’d stay hung up on her forever. He st
ill dreamed of her, and thoughts of her filled his days. When being a cop was hard, he reminded herself that she was doing it, going through exactly what he was. When it was easy, he told himself he needed to work harder to impress her. She was who he imagined himself with when he thought of the future, even if he had no reason to do so. He couldn’t help it.
“Right. Well, enjoy church,” Leslie said, and stood up. She left him to worry about the bill. He did so with no qualms. He got a lot of good advice from her, even if he didn’t always take it, and that was worth a bit of lunch money.
Nate knew he’d have to see Dove at service. There was no way around that. There were only so many Bible-preaching churches in one city, and they happened to go to the same one. Believers’ Church held a lot of young adults, though Dove was nearing the end of that category. It also held a lot of single people, and Nate figured that was partly what attracted more people. Everyone wanted to find a good Christian to settle down with, and he was no exception.
The church was the classic white building with a steeple and white French doors. He was one of the first ones to arrive, and walked softly over the maroon-colored carpet, not wanting to disturb the silence of the holy place. Nate thought there were few places holier than an empty church.
The whole church was only about a hundred people, but maybe half of them were between twenty and thirty. They enjoyed their worship with plenty of emotional tug, and a chance to thank God for all he had done. The pastor had informed him that today he was speaking on grace within the church. Nate had picked out a couple of good songs on grace, and met with the worship team before service, while everyone else was in Sunday School, to go over it.
Nate wondered if maybe he needed to take Leslie’s advice. She always had good advice. He asked God, silently, to show him if there was someone he was meant to be interested in. After all, it would do him no good to focus on Sarah forever. She was in an entirely different location, and she had no interest in either of them travelling to see the other.
He was distracted through worship practice, playing over the breakfast conversation over and over again in his head, and using a good bit of time to think of Sarah. He played the wrong chord twice, and it was loud enough to be noticeable. But no one told him he was doing anything wrong; he was their leader.
Finally, people began pouring into the auditorium for service. Nate saw Dove straight away. She was wearing a simple dress, tight at the waist and swooping out at the bottom. He couldn’t help noticing she was beautiful. That wasn’t what this was about, though. This was about worshiping God. He tried to focus.
But as they went through a few songs, Nate caught himself peeking at Dove over and over again. Not only was she pretty, but she really seemed into the worship. She had one hand up and her eyes closed for the duration of the songs, but never seemed to stumble over the words. He wondered if her voice was any good.
He introduced the pastor when it was time, and sat near the front, wanting to be ready for the closing song when the time came. Pastor Felix walked up slowly, like he always did, one hand on his belt. “There’s something about this culture that isn’t spoken about enough,” he said once he was positioned behind the pulpit. “This is particularly true in churches. See, churches are willing to preach about God’s grace, but are unwilling to enact gracious acts themselves. We withhold forgiveness and apologies, give only with conditions, and don’t rub elbows with people we see as ‘dirty.’ This is the height of disgrace.”
He held up a finger. “First, we withhold forgiveness. You may say, “But Pastor Felix, I don’t tell people I’m angry at them when they gossip about me.” Now, I could do a whole other sermon on gossip. But pretending not to be angry isn’t forgiveness. Sometimes, forgiveness involves anger. If an injustice was committed against you or someone you love, part of the forgiveness process is anger. The next part is getting past that anger and restoring the relationship.”
He held up another finger. “We withhold apologies. Don’t people we love know we’re sorry? No, they don’t. Humans are stupid, emotional creatures. Sometimes we need stuff pointed out to us. One of those things we need pointed out to us is when someone is sorry. Or, of course, there are those times when you feel like you should be sorry, but you’re not. Those cases you need to bring to God. If there’s something in your heart telling you you should be sorry, listen to it. Take a moment right now and ask God to help you feel sorry. Go ahead; I’m waiting.”
He paused and held up a third finger. “Giving with conditions. Giving assuming you’ll be paid back, or even that you’ll just be loved back. There’s a number of conditions you could have here, but all of them should be forgotten. When you give, you should do so with an open heart, even considering the idea that you may be hurt. Often, we do this because we think we’re better than others. We’re being so nice, reaching down and helping these mortals, that they should thank us. This leads up to my last point.”
His fourth finger went up. “We like to limit our contact with people we see as dirty. This may be people who make less than you, who aren’t as attractive as you, who sin in more obvious ways than you, whatever. We like to constantly see everyone as being on a scale. We like to try to interact with higher people, to move up the scale. This makes us withhold forgiveness and apologies and give with conditions. We need to apologize for the lack of grace we have had so far, and vow with God and others that we will be better.”
Nate hadn’t come to church expecting to be convicted. And yet, wasn’t this him? Refusing to ask for forgiveness, giving his police work only with the condition that she agree with his findings, and trying to stay away from her simply because she had different opinions. Her opinion may be wrong, but it didn’t seem to harm anyone. If anything, it just made her more scared. Nate didn’t see any need for her to be scared. Maybe he could try and help her out a bit more.
When the service ended, after Nate played his final song, he went looking for Dove. She wasn’t hard to find; like most people, she sat in the same place every week. Nate was just amazed he hadn’t noticed her more in the past. Generally, as part of his position as worship leader, he saw how everyone worshipped. Somehow, he hadn’t missed her.
“Dove,” he said, walking to where she was talking to Teressa. Both women turned to look at him. He wished this was just between him and Dove. This was embarrassing enough without an audience.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“I just—I wanted to apologize for not believing you.”
“Do you believe me now?” she asked.
“That it’s someone different? No, I don’t. But from the very beginning I made it seem like you were just paranoid. Clearly there was something going on. It was wrong of me to not do my job to my fullest extent and help you out.”
“Well, thank you,” she said. “And I forgive you, if that’s what you’re hoping to hear.”
“You kind of have to after a message like that, huh?” Teressa said.
“Yeah, I guess so. Well, I’ll see you guys later. Don’t hesitate to call the station if you need anything.” He turned and walked away.
Chapter Five
Chapter
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Teressa asked.
“I wish you guys would believe me,” Dove said. “But no, I guess that wasn’t so bad.”
“Hey, if you call again now, at least they’ll take you seriously. So even if it’s not Peterson, once you call, they will answer and they’ll come get him.”
“If they come in time,” she mumbled.
“They’ll come in time,” Teressa answered.
“They haven’t yet.” Dove couldn’t help but be in a sour mood. She felt Nate’s apology was half-hearted. He had heard a good sermon, and he responded right after. She wasn’t sure that was the same thing as really apologizing. She knew she was withholding forgiveness, but she wasn’t sure how not to. No one was taking her concerns seriously. And she thought she knew why.
Dove went to visit her mom on Sun
days. It had been a tradition ever since her mother had been institutionalized. Dove had put her mother in a group home when she herself was twenty and her mother was forty-two. Her father had bailed a while before, when things started going south with her mother’s mental health. Dove had been seven.
Dove found herself doing much of the work around her house and taking care of her mother practically full time. Her mother got a small allowance from the government because of her diagnosis, but disability didn’t provide her with someone to help her live her day-to-day life. That was Dove. She cooked and cleaned and tried to make sure her mother took care of herself. Now that she was institutionalized, some of the work was off of Dove.
Growing up, nothing scared Dove more than the idea of her mother being institutionalized. Despite everything, Dove and her mother had a close relationship. Schizophrenia didn’t stop that. Locking her up somewhere, when they were managing at home, when her mom had good periods where she sang and smiled and never forgot to make dessert. Dove made sure she took her medication and sometimes her good periods lasted quite a while.
But she became more and more to handle. She stopped eating meals, and even Dove couldn’t get her to start again. Dove got a full-time job and wanted to move out, and began to wonder if her mother was even safe on her own, so she institutionalized her.
Her mom was doing better than ever. She was lucid more often. She ate all her meals, and put on twenty pounds. She played the piano again. Dove couldn’t have been happier. She wished she had admitted sooner that she couldn’t do it all on her own.
Still, Dove found herself being cautious around her mom. It felt as if her sanity was tender, like a bruised rib. Maybe if you pushed too hard it would crack. She tried to keep conversations fun and stress free. She played card games while she was there and listened to her mother talk about the various gossip. Those limited interactions seemed all within her mother’s realm of things that could be handled.
