Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series)
Page 16
“Oh, brother.” Sherelle rose from her chair and walked to the other side of the station.
Allie grinned at Nate’s teasing. “I’ve sort of befriended ‘Room 8.’”
“You’re the only one.”
“I’ve gathered as much.”
She had to admit that Nate was a good-looking guy, and judging by his stance, he knew it. Allie also guessed he was about half her age.
“I understand you’re here to whip us all into shape.”
Completing her form, she met his gaze. “That’s an understatement.”
A slow smile spread across Nate’s face. “Oh, yeah?” He obviously liked a challenge.
However, Allie wasn’t interested in bantering. When Sherelle returned, she handed over the incident report. “Now what happens?”
“Marcy Crandon, the day supervisor, will review it. She’ll probably order some lab work. You’ll have to give us some blood.”
“Fine. Is Marcy still here?”
“Yep. In her office.”
“Great. I’ll hand the incident report to her myself.”
“Hey, before you go,” Nate began.
Allie paused.
“A few of us are going out for drinks after work. Want to join us?”
“Thanks, but no.” Incident form and productivity logs in hand, she excused herself and walked around a grinning Nate.
“Well, okay. There’s always next time…Angel.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
He chuckled as she moved away from the counter. Passing Room 8, Allie heard Cynthia’s muffled wails and decided this day couldn’t get much worse.
* * *
Marilee watched her mother pace the plush, off-white carpeting. A late afternoon breeze sailed in through the patio doors, carrying with it a warm reminder that summer wasn’t over just yet.
“Three months is not enough time to plan a wedding. What is Logan thinking?”
“He doesn’t understand, Mom. That’s all.”
“It’ll take that long to have the appropriate alterations made to your gown. And the invitations will have to be printed and mailed. We’ll need to rent a hall for the reception…” Mom expelled an exasperated sigh. “Nothing, and I mean nothing will be available in the Chicago area at Christmastime!”
“I know. I know….”
Despair reared its ugly head. While yesterday had been so perfect, the announcement of their engagement at church followed by an impromptu luncheon celebration with her parents at Steve and Nora Callahan’s home, today was a sorry contrast as reality set in. Marilee’s mother was right―three months was not enough time to plan a wedding.
“I thought maybe you and I could…well, explain things to Logan. There’s a chance he’ll change his mind.”
“You think so?” Mom sat down beside her and tapped her forefinger against her lips. The silver bracelets on her wrist jingled. “Hm…”
“I’d really like to get married in May, after school lets out.”
“Of course. That’s only reasonable. And if we could set the date eighteen months from now, that would ideal.”
Marilee thought so too, but she doubted Logan would agree to wait that long. Seven months, perhaps. A year and a half, not a chance!
“Logan is a reasonable man. I think we can talk some sense into him.” Marilee grinned. “He’s probably still at church.”
Eileen Domotor’s eyes widened with possibilities. “What are we waiting for? I’ll get my purse.”
“We could hit a bridal shop on the way home, too.”
“Marvelous idea.”
Marilee had to laugh as she trailed her mother out the door and down the hallway to the elevators. She could barely keep up with her!
* * *
Cynthia’s eyes fluttered open. Her angel stood beside her bed. “You came back.” She could speak much clearer without that nasty tube in her throat.
“Yes, I came back.” Her angel hiked up the shoulder strap of her purse. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay before I left for the day.”
“I’m sorry about before…you know…”
“Yes, I know. But from now on—” A warning glinted in her blue eyes. “—I want to hear good reports from the nurses. No more biting, scratching, and swearing at them. You hear?”
“I hear, Angel.”
She smiled. “That’s not my name.”
“But that’s who you are to me.” Through worn and medicated eyes, Cynthia thought her angel’s silvery-blond hair had every appearance of a shiny halo. And her outfit…was that a white robe she wore?
“I’m just a regular person.”
Cynthia didn’t reply. She’d watched that TV show about angels who touched people’s lives and helped them through difficulties enough to know that angels didn’t readily admit who they were.
“Your daughters were here this afternoon. Patrice and Kelly.”
“Oh, what did they want? Money? That’s all they ever want.”
“They wanted to check on you.”
Cynthia cursed. “I…I don’t believe it. They must have had an ulterior motive for coming.” She struggled to take a breath. “Patty and Kelly don’t care if I live or die.”
Her angel didn’t reply, and several strained moments past.
“I see Nate brought you a cola.”
Cynthia glanced at the retractable tray on the other side of her bed. “Yeah, the doctor said I don’t have to have the tube or the IV.” She looked back at her angel. “We talked on the phone and he said I’ll die quicker without them, but that’s fine by me. I want to die.”
Her angel frowned and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Mrs. Matlock, what do you think will happen when you die?”
“Call me Cynthia.”
“All right. Cynthia, What do you think will happen?”
“When I die I’ll finally have peace.”
“How do you know?”
“Because…oh, I don’t know. It’s what I feel, I guess.”
“I thought about death in a similar way, until my mother died.” A sorrowful expression crept across Angel’s face. “But after her unexpected passing, I began wondering what really happens to a person when he or she dies.”
“Were you close to your mother?”
“Very close.”
Regret filled Cynthia. She’d never been close to either of her parents, and her daughters―they weren’t close anymore.
“Mom was my best friend all through grade school. We moved around a lot. But then she remarried when I was a teenager and suddenly I had to share her affection with a stepfather and two stepsisters.”
“Bet you hated that.”
“I did. I became very rebellious and stubborn, refusing to obey my mom and stepdad. I started getting into a lot of trouble around town.”
“You?” Cynthia wanted to laugh except it hurt too much. “Hard to imagine you like that. You seem so…perfect.”
“Hardly.” Her angel smiled. “And any good you see in me is because of Jesus Christ. The glory goes to Him alone.”
“Figured you’d say that, being an angel and all.”
“I’m not an angel, but I am a born again Christian.”
“You told me that before.”
“Maybe it bears repeating.”
Cynthia reply. Her first husband had been one of those re-born people. At first he’d seemed like a knight in shining armor. Being married to him was a whole nother story. And then there was his mother…
Cynthia recalled the times the older woman would read to her from the Bible. The passages sounded like some boring Sunday school lesson, and Cynthia rarely paid attention. However, there was one verse that she could remember to this day. Her mother-in-law repeated over and over. “For God so loved the world that He gave his only Son…”
There was more, Cynthia knew, but at the moment the words escaped her.
“I tend to avoid Christians,” Cynthia finally stated at last. “Seems like they all have hidden agendas.”
“Like what?”
“Like…they want you to join their church, be one of them.”
“Well, I suppose to some extent that’s true,” her angel said. “I, for instance, would like nothing more than to know that you’ve asked Jesus into your heart before you die. Have you ever done that? Prayed and asked Jesus into your heart?”
“No.”
“Do you know what I mean when I say that…ask Jesus into your heart?”
Cynthia frowned, but then admitted, “Not really, and I really don’t care.”
Her angel’s expression conveyed disappointment, which in turn caused Cynthia a good measure of guilt. This woman didn’t have to be here. She wasn’t obligated to keep her company―especially after what occurred this afternoon. It was a miracle that Angel even came back.
“Oh, all right,” Cynthia relented. “Go ahead and tell me.”
Angel paused a moment. “Well, from my own experience, I can tell you that I didn’t know what inner peace really was until I dedicated myself to Christ. And let’s face it, in this life we dedicate ourselves to all sorts of things. Our jobs, our dreams, our relationships with others. Sadly enough, most of what we’ve given ourselves to can vanish in a heartbeat. It won’t last.”
“I know that’s true. Look at me. I have nothing. Not even my daughters, those two little witches.”
Angel gave her an empathic look and Cynthia sensed she could relate.
“Friends and family members might desert us, but Jesus never will.”
Cynthia turned her head toward the window.
“Jesus was and is God. The Son of God.”
That verse her mother-in-law liked to quote flittered through Cynthia’s head. For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son…
“Jesus died for your sins and mine. He died and rose again on the third day and He sits at God the Father’s right hand in a place called Heaven. Those who ask Jesus to forgive their sins and ask Him to save them―ask Him into their hearts―will live with Him forever.”
Angel lifted Cynthia’s hand. Warmth spread around her fingers while a knot of emotion caught in her throat. When was the last time someone cared enough about her to hold her hand?
“Everyone is going to live forever somewhere.” Angel’s blue eyes darkened with intensity. “Where you spend eternity is the choice you have to make here on earth.” She smiled. “I hope to see you in Heaven.”
Cynthia felt as mesmerized as she was amazed by such a display of emotion. “No one has ever cared about me…except you.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.” Angel patted her hand before gently setting it back on the thin hospital blanket.
“It’s true, all right. Everyone I’ve ever loved wanted something from me. They never wanted just me.”
“Well, Jesus wants you because He loves you.” Standing, Angel fished a piece of paper from her purse. “I’m going to leave this with you. It’s a Bible tract. Will you promise to read it?”
How could she refuse? This woman had been so kind to her. “Okay, I’ll read it, Angel.”
She laughed. “Will you stop calling me that? My name is Allie.”
A vague sense of familiarity pecked at her. How weird that she equated the name with her mother-in-law and that verse from the Bible. “Do I know you? Have we met before?”
Angel squinted, obviously giving the matter some thought. “I don’t believe so. I’m not from around here. I live in California. I’m a consultant and I’m here temporarily.”
“Yeah, I think you told me that before too…”
Exhaustion settled down around Cynthia like a heavy, black blanket. “You go now, Angel. I have to sleep.”
“All right, but please think about what I’ve said.”
“About Heaven?”
“Yes, about Heaven.”
For God so loved the world…
With those words dancing across her mind, Cynthia closed her eyes and drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
Chapter Fifteen
Jack put in his request for retirement and had what he felt was a productive chat with the police chief. It wouldn’t change anything, but Jack decided that getting the load of his chest felt great.
With the rest of the day to kill, Jack went over to one of his buddy’s house and sat with him in the yard. He listened as his friend rambled on about the benefits of retirement. However, when Jack left, he didn’t feel anymore convinced that he’d enjoy it. After all, the last thirty years of his life had been consumed with who he was―an Oakland Park police officer. Now he was just plain old Jack Callahan, and for whatever reason, that guy scared him.
Maybe because he didn’t know who Jack Callahan was. And maybe he didn’t want to find out, either.
Out of sheer boredom, he stopped by his brother’s house. Steve wasn’t home from work yet, but Nora insisted he come in. She seated him at the kitchen table, served him a glass of iced tea…and didn’t stop talking for the next hour! The only reprieve Jack had was when the kids periodically came in and interrupted her.
Finally Steve arrived and Nora began dinner preparations. They invited him to stay, but Jack didn’t feel up to it. In truth, he didn’t know what he felt like doing, but dinner alone in front of a Monday night football game seemed like the obvious plan. He supposed there were worse alternatives.
Driving home, Jack did a mental inventory of what he had in the refrigerator and cupboards. He didn’t feel like stopping at the grocery store, but there wasn’t much in stock at his apartment. As he stopped at the light near the La Fiesta restaurant and considered getting a carryout order. He’d enjoyed his dinner Saturday night.
The food, anyway.
The light turned green, and Jack abandoned the La Fiesta idea, and continued on his way home. He had to admit that his conscience bugged him the past couple of days. Perhaps he’d been a little too harsh with Allie on Saturday night. She’d been smarting over the failed reunion with Brenda and he’d all but poured salt in her wound. Well, he’d tried to warn her…the same way she had tried to warn him about marriage thirty years ago.
If you recall, I told you so…
And that was the other thing that bugged him―bugged him more than his conscience―the fact that she remembered!
Jack pulled into the apartment complex and parked his SUV. He’d sold his house on Side Circle Drive the same year Logan went to college. Earning a tidy sum in the deal, he decided to rent one of these, newly-built units with all the modern conveniences included. He hadn’t been sorry, either. No lawns to mow, bushes to trim, and no siding to paint. It was a bachelor’s dream come true.
But it was also lonely, although Jack rarely gave into that sentiment. He worked extra shifts instead and then fell into bed, exhausted, not giving any room to thinking or feeling. Truth was, he’d shut off his emotions like a faucet years ago. However, Allie’s return to Oakland Park had started a slow drip and now that he wouldn’t have his career to fall back on, Jack was faced with the fact he might have to deal with some issues.
Namely his past, present, and future.
What a lousy situation to be in at fifty-five years old. He lifted an array of envelopes from the mailbox. Walking to his front door, he turned the key and let himself into the apartment. Inside, he busied himself for about after twenty minutes. Finally, Jack stood at the fridge, door open, and gazed in at its sparse contents. Then he thought of Mexican food…and Allie.
Great. He’d end up in the nut house before long.
Closing the refrigerator, he looked at the phone and considered his options. What if he asked Nora where Allie was staying? He could offer to take her to dinner as recompense for Saturday night. He could agree to bury the hatchet, as it were, and he’d have something to eat. Besides, it didn’t look like Allie was going away too soon. So, like every other misfortune that came his way, Jack would just have to buck up and accept it.
Picking up the phone, Jack dialed his brother’s number.
* * *
Walking to the front desk, Allie asked for her mail and messages. A lanky young man with short auburn hair, who didn’t look older than twenty, handed them over and announced that she had a visitor. He inclined his head to the right, and Allie turned to find Jack seated comfortably on a couch, reading a portion of the newspaper.
Seeing his dark hair sprinkled with gray highlights bent over a section of USA Today, she wanted to sob. If she didn’t think her day could get any worse, it just had.
Thanking the clerk, she headed in Jack’s direction. As if sensing her approach, he glanced up and set the paper aside.
“What are you doing here?” She forced a smile.
He stood. “I thought I’d take you to dinner.”
Suspicion filled her being, and she narrowed her gaze. “What for?”
He brought his chin back, acting surprised. “Now, Allie, you said you wanted to be friends, right? So, friends go to dinner once in a while.”
I’m too tired for this. “I…I appreciate the offer, but I’ve had a bad day. I don’t want to spar with you. I just want to take my shoes off, make a bag of microwave popcorn, and watch a couple of mindless TV shows.”
She turned to go, but he caught her elbow. “No sparring tonight. You have my word. In fact, that’s why I wanted to take you out―to sort of make up for the, um, sparring on Saturday night.”
“That wasn’t your fault. That was between Brenda and me.”
“Well, I feel like I contributed…and stop shaking your head like that. You’re not the only one with a conscience, you know.”
Allie found the admission interesting, but she was hardly persuaded. “Let’s make it another time, okay?” She tried to ignore the glimmer of disappointment in his brown eyes.