by Lois Richer
She kept whispering, though some of the other patrons tossed her an inquisitive look.
“Relax now. Breathe.”
He didn’t say anything or open his eyes, but the slowing rise and fall of his chest reassured her that he’d heard. She kept touching him, kept steady contact with the warmth of her hand against his icy face until at last the lights went up and the theater emptied.
His pasty gray face worried her, but not as much as the tremble in his fingers.
Ty rose but drew immediately away from her, waiting as she exited in front of him from the row, from the room.
“That was awesome.” Jack’s grin faded a little when he caught sight of his uncle’s face. He glanced her way, opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it when Cassidy shook her head.
“Maybe you should take a look in the gift shop,” she suggested. “Ty and I can have a coffee while we wait.”
“Okay.”
They set a time and place to meet. Jack hurried off to shop. Cassidy purchased two cups of coffee, then led Ty to a seat behind the famous sundial on the northern lawn, overlooking Chicago’s lakefront.
“Have a seat.”
Ty sat on the grass, accepted and sipped the dark brew, but remained silent.
“Are you all right?” she asked at last.
“Fine. Sorry to embarrass you like that.”
“You didn’t embarrass me.”
“Right.” He’d closed himself off, blockaded the warm, generous man she’d come to know behind an icy mask.
“What’s wrong?”
“My life, that’s what’s wrong.” He drained his cup, set it on the grass, then leaned back on his elbows, studying the glittering water in front of them for a long time before twisting his head to study her. “I’ve been praying for healing for such a long time.”
“Healing from the—attacks?”
“If that’s what you want to call them.” A tinge of bitterness colored his words. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever be free of these nightmares.”
“Don’t give up, Ty.” She slipped off her jacket to let the water’s breeze cool her. “Sometimes healing takes a long time, but it’s always in God’s time.”
He frowned, then held his hand over his eyes to shade them, as if he needed a better look at her. Cassidy blushed.
“I know it sounds strange to hear me put healing and God in the same sentence, but that’s how I feel, healed. Free.” She plucked a blade of grass, twizzled it against his neck. “I don’t think I’ll ever be truly able to forget my past or trust my father again, and I know there will be moments when I slip back into my old way of thinking, but I forgive him.”
“Oh, Cassidy. I’m so glad for you.”
“Writing it down was the turning point, I think. Putting everything on paper—” She glanced at him. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Just a guess.”
“I doubt that. Or if so, it was a very astute one. Very therapeutic, too.” Cassidy let the sandal dangling from her toe slip off onto the grass. “It was great at first. I twisted the tap and all the venom came spouting out.”
“Toward your father?”
“Dad and God, both. I’d been bottling so much up. But each time I’d try to finish the letter, I’d end up rewriting it. Some of the things I put on paper were really awful, hateful things. I saw myself in a new light. It wasn’t pretty.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had my plan all worked out. When I’d saved the money, bought the ticket, was ready to go, my plan was coming together.”
“And then it didn’t.”
“Yes.” Her stomach lurched but Cassidy refused to dwell on it. The past was over. “I was furious that the God of the universe hadn’t followed my plan. Who did He think He was, anyway?”
Ty chuckled.
“When I think about it now, I see myself utterly consumed with my own importance. I got so far off the track, so self-centered.” Cassidy winced. “It’s no wonder I thought God had abandoned me. There was no room for Him in my life.”
Ty gazed out across the water, wearing the troubled look she’d seen so often.
“I thought counseling was what I was supposed to do,” he murmured, when the silence had become unbearable. “People told me I was good at it. I certainly enjoyed it and thought God was using me over there.”
“What makes you think He wasn’t?”
He twisted to glare at her, fingertips messing up his hair in an act of pure frustration.
“I caused three men’s deaths.”
“Did you?” She frowned. “I thought an incendiary device did that.”
“Yes, but I feel responsible.”
“How you feel doesn’t mean it’s the truth.” She held out her finger, hoping the butterfly that had been circling them would land. “I’ve learned feelings fluctuate wildly.”
Ty’s eyebrows rose. An explosive heat moved up Cassidy’s neck and scorched her cheeks. She ducked her head, but refused to back down.
“Believe me, if it seems strange to hear me talk this way, it feels even stranger to say it. But it doesn’t change the truth. God is who He is—omnipotent. That means He’s in charge. You’re not.” She lifted her head, met his stare. “Something bad happened. And it bothers you. But that doesn’t mean you stop doing what you’re supposed to.”
“Which is?”
The words flowed out without conscious thought. It was her heart speaking.
“You’re a natural counselor, Ty. You don’t bully, you don’t even press very hard, but you do have a way of getting people to face their own personal truths, to challenge their validity and to move past them.” She touched his shoulder. “That’s a gift. It might be hard for you to use it right now, but that doesn’t mean you should stop. Those people who come to see you at the Haven need you.”
“I fade in and out sometimes.” The admission cost him. Shame filled his eyes. “They’ll be sharing something that’s very important to them and one of the construction workers will drop something and bang! I’m back there—reliving it all over again. It’s not fair to the client.”
“Has anyone complained?” She did what he’d done so often to her when trying to make her to face a truth. She thrust her forefinger under his chin and pushed up so he had to look at her. “Has anyone asked you not to talk to them anymore, to forget about them and their problems?”
“No,” he admitted. “But I want to do more. I want to encourage them, to help them figure out the root of their problems. And all I can do is sit there and let them talk while I fight off the fear.”
“They talk, you listen. Isn’t that what counseling is all about?”
He growled beneath his breath.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Ty. I can take it.”
“Anybody could sit there and listen.” His anger spilled over onto her. “I’m supposed to do more than that.”
“Anybody? Well, if anybody could do it, why do they come to you? Why do they sit outside your door, waiting until you have a free moment, when anybody could hear their sad tales?” A rush of sweet love poured into her voice and Cassidy could no more stop it than she could hurt him.
“But—”
“No buts. What you do is a gift, Tyson St. John. A God-given talent that brings hope to the hopeless and challenges those who’ve almost given up to try again. Don’t talk to me about not doing anything when your very presence in that office brings help to people who were afraid to ask.”
“I’m not doing my best,” he whispered. “If only I could get past this stupid stress thing, if God would heal me, there’s so much more I could—”
“Did it occur to you that God hasn’t healed you for a reason?”
He frowned.
“No, I’ve never considered that. I came to the Haven to—”
“Make Gail’s dream come true. And raise Jack. And take on the problems of the world.” She squinted at him. “Your efforts are focused on other people and that�
��s noble. But is making Gail’s dream come true part of God’s plan?”
She was going to add to that, but caught sight of Jack sauntering across the lawn toward them followed by Red, Boe and two other members of the gang. Ty followed her gaze, groaned.
“How did they get here?”
Cassidy saw a look pass between the kids. She slid her feet into her sandals as worry feathered up her spine. “More to the point, why are they here?”
“I’m afraid to ask.” Ty rose and held out a hand to help her up, held her jacket so she could slip her arms in the sleeves.
“Thanks.” She stayed exactly where she was, not minding a bit when his hands rested on her shoulders.
“Hey. I got a book.” Jack showed them a thick, beautifully illustrated book on the solar system.
Her warning system hid red alert.
“They didn’t give you a bag?”
Please, God, she prayed, let my suspicions be wrong.
“Uh, yeah. Sure they did.” Jack glanced toward Red, then at his uncle. “I, uh, I guess I must have tossed it.”
If he only knew how guilty he looked.
Cassidy snuck a glance at Ty, knew he’d caught the scent of something wrong. Her heart ached for his disappointment.
“Looks expensive.” Ty accepted the book, began paging through it. “Eighty dollars. I didn’t know you had that much cash left this late in the month, Jack. I mean, you bought that guitar stand and stuff.”
“I, um, that is, I had to borrow from Boe.”
Ty closed the book, studied his nephew.
“Boe’s walking around with a hundred bucks? Where’d he get that kind of money?”
“A hundred?” Jack licked his lips. “You said eighty.”
“Boe’s hiding a book under his shirt. Red’s had her hands in her pockets for too long.” He pinned Jack with his gaze. “I’m guessing nobody paid for what they took.” Ty handed the book back. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re going to return the property you stole.”
“No!” Jack’s face paled so much the tiny scar left over from the day he’d broken the mirror stood out in stark red relief. “They’re closed, anyway.”
“They have a big function tonight. I’m guessing someone will still be around.” Ty’s lips pinched together. “I notice you don’t deny stealing it.”
“They’ve got lots of stuff. They’re not going to miss a couple of things.” Belligerence twisted his mouth. “And I’m not taking it back.”
“Yes, Jack, you are.” Ty’s voice got very quiet. “I will not be an accessory to theft. I run a homeless shelter. How do think it will go down with the police when they learn my nephew steals?”
“Who’s going to tell them?”
Ty said nothing, simply pointed to the small camera on a nearby post.
Jack paled even more. But he didn’t back down.
“I’m not going back there like some four-year-old who stole a candy.” His indignation carried over to his chums, who muttered their agreement.
“You’re not keeping something that isn’t yours.” Ty remained silent for several moments before murmuring, “You know your mother wouldn’t have allowed that, Jack.”
Jack looked toward his friends, but it was clear Ty’s words had affected him.
“Come on. I’ll go with you. We’ll pay for it together.”
“I’ll wait over there.” Cassidy pointed to a bench farther up the walk, watched them walk away together. Jack wasn’t saying anything but Ty was.
“What a wimp!” Red snapped her gum. “No way do I want a wuss like that in my group.”
Time for a few truths. Cassidy was rusty—her sisters had long since grown up—but she whispered a prayer for help as she faced the audacious girl.
“You don’t think it’s wimpy to steal kids’ toys?” She directed a knowing glare toward the girl’s bulging jeans pocket. “You’re supposed to be a leader, Red. I thought you were smarter than this.”
“Than what?” Red demanded, hands gripping her hips.
“Smarter than shoplifting. I thought you said you wanted a career with kids. Who’s going to hire someone with a record for shoplifting?”
“I don’t have a record, chef.”
Red’s sneer made Cassidy’s palms itch but she pressed on.
“You will have one if you keep this up. Today you’re stealing trinkets. Tomorrow you’ll be hotwiring cars, pulling bank heists, knocking old ladies over the head for their pension checks.”
Red’s fury spilled out.
“I would never do that!”
Cassidy shrugged.
“That’s what they all say. But violence starts somewhere, and it usually starts small.” She studied the girl. “I thought you cared about the people in your neighborhood.” She’d infused her voice with just enough disrespect to grab Red’s attention.
“Nobody from around here lives in my ’hood,” Red scoffed.
“How do you know? The lady who was working the store—she’s working on a Sunday afternoon instead of being home with her family. How do you know she doesn’t need every cent she earns to feed her family? What if your stealing on her watch cost her the job she can’t afford to lose? What if the security guard has to pay for your crime?”
“He should. He’s lousy at his job.”
“He’s fifty years older than you, at least.” Cassidy shook her head. “But because you don’t know them personally, you think it’s all right to cause them trouble. You’re shortsighted, Red. You don’t consider the consequences.”
Boe and the other two were studying the girl, as if they were seeing faults in Red that they’d never seen before.
“I consider the future plenty. In my house, you have to or you wouldn’t survive.”
At last, the opening she needed.
“Then how come you didn’t consider the fact that Ty and Jack might be forced to leave?” Doubt flashed across Red’s face. Cassidy pressed on. “I guarantee boards of foundations like Elizabeth Wisdom’s do not like scandal. The behavior of the nephew of the Haven’s director will matter if the media get hold of it.”
“They won’t.”
“Because you said so? Right. And we all know how much experience you have—so much that you get kids who are younger than you to commit crimes. Nice gang you have going, Red. Something to be proud of, huh?”
“What do you know about my world?” Red’s fury spilled out in a rush of gestures and angry words. “You floated over here from Europe, you had everything given to you. What do you know about anything?”
“Is that what you think? That I’m some kind of spoiled rich kid?” Cassidy laughed at the image. “You’re not as bright as I gave you credit for, Red. You judge without knowing all the facts.”
Cassidy walked over to the bench, sat down and pretended to ignore the group.
Not many minutes later, Red sauntered over, flopped down on the bench.
“So?”
“So.”
“So spill it. Dish the dirt.”
“Pardon?” Cassidy pretended confusion.
“Will you tell me about yourself?” Red amended several moments later accompanied by a huge sigh. Boe and friends stayed where they were, shuffling uncertainly. “Which stylist on the Magnificent Mile is responsible for that chic haircut? And that suit—I’m guessing Michigan Avenue?”
“Wrong on both counts. I got my hair cut by your neighbor. She charges me twenty dollars.” Cassidy then explained her wardrobe.
“Garage sales? Are you kidding me?”
“Garage sales in the right area,” she corrected. “And don’t sneer. Sometimes the price tag is still hanging on the dress. My sisters and I worked our way through high school and had to look good on not much money. It’s possible, you know.”
Red peppered her with so many questions, Cassidy lost track of time. By the time Ty and Jack returned, the afternoon had cooled and then sun was on its way down. But the chill wasn’t of
f the water.
“Can we give you a lift back?” Ty asked, his face showing no emotion as he waited for Red to make the decision.
“It’ll be pretty tight, but we wouldn’t mind.”
The ride home took forever, or so it seemed to Cassidy. Ty remained stoically silent, while Jack, though subdued, forced laughter at the others’ jokes. By the time they reached the Haven, Cassidy’s head ached. She knew from Ty’s pallor that he must be feeling the same.
“Thanks for the ride.” Red, Boe and the others high-fived Jack, muttered something about meeting up later. Then, after one glance at Ty’s face they shoved each other out of the backseat, hurrying away as if afraid he’d lecture them.
“There will be no get-together tonight, Jack.” Ty leaned forward, looked directly at his nephew. His voice brooked no argument.
“Big surprise. I suppose you’ll be drafting up another list of rules, too.” He shook his head in disgust, climbed out of the car. “I’ll go talk to Mac while you take Cassidy home. I’m sure the two of you must have lots of things to talk about. You don’t need me.”
Before Cassidy could protest, Jack slammed the car door then sauntered up the stairs and inside the red brick building, which now hung a professionally made banner that looked nothing like Jack’s creative effort.
She frowned. Jack’s tone had carried a hint of—jealousy?
Ty rested his head against the wheel. He inhaled very slowly, then pulled back.
“I’m sorry the afternoon was ruined.” Tiredness ached through his voice.
Cassidy guessed he hadn’t slept last night.
“It wasn’t wasted.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, disbelief etched across his face.
“I mean it. I got to have a nice long chat with Red. Very…informative.”
“I can imagine.”
“How did you make out at the store?”
“He’s not allowed in the building for a year. They almost called the police. I managed to talk them out of it, though I’m not sure that was wise.” Ty turned his head to look at her. “He doesn’t seem to get that what he did was wrong.”
“He gets it. Jack’s not stupid.”
“Then why did he do it?”
