Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series)

by Andrea Boeshaar

  She headed for the elevators.

  “I put in for my retirement today…”

  She halted in mid-stride then turned slowly around to face him. The man whose career meant the world to him just gave it up without even a skirmish? Why?

  As if he read her thoughts, he shrugged, arms open. “Can’t fight city hall, and all that.”

  “Yes, you can.” She hiked up the shoulder strap of her maroon, leather attaché case.

  “Not at my age.” He moved a few steps forward.

  The quintessential bleeding heart, Allie felt her will dissolving by the second.

  Jack glanced at his watch. “I could probably have you back by nine. Lots of mindless TV shows on then―including the local news.”

  Allie laughed before giving up altogether. “Oh, all right. Let me take my stuff up to my suite and change clothes. Give me, mmm―” She paused to think about it. “Give me fifteen minutes?”

  “You got it.” Jack returned to the soft, sad down, and slid the newspaper back onto his lap.

  Riding the elevator to her floor, amazement continued to course through her veins. Just now he’d behaved like the Jack she remembered!

  Still in a mild semblance of shock, she entered her suite, depositing her mail and attaché case on the bed before kicking off her heels. She shrugged out of her brown and cream checked jacket then removed the suit’s matching skirt and unbuttoned her off-white blouse. After hanging up the garments, she selected a casual, blue, collared, cotton-knit dress from the closet. She deemed it appropriate since Jack wore faded blue jeans and a white short-sleeved Polo.

  Walking into the bathroom, Allie washed, touched up her makeup, dressed, and then slipped a pair of multicolored-strapped flats onto her feet. Grabbing her purse and a light jacket, she made her way back down to the lobby.

  Jack glanced at his watch. “Twelve minutes. Pretty good.”

  Allie felt oddly flattered. Of course, she reminded herself, it wasn’t as though he’d complimented her on her appearance.

  Jack offered to drive, so they walked to his black Ford Explorer. He politely opened the passenger door and Allie climbed up into the upholstered seat. She had just finished fastening the seatbelt by the time he walked around the vehicle and crawled behind the wheel.

  “Mexican food all right?”

  “Very funny, Jack.” She grinned in spite of herself.

  He smirked as he backed out of the parking slip. Pulling onto the interstate, he headed for downtown Chicago.

  Allie cleared her throat. “So when are you officially retired?”

  “End of this month. I figured I wouldn’t wait until the end of the year. Why put off the inevitable?”

  “I suppose.” Another trait like the Jack she used to know. Once he made up his mind to do something he did it quickly.“What are you planning to do with your time? Enjoy it, I hope. There’s a lot of people in the world who aren’t healthy enough to enjoy their retirement.”

  “True enough.” He paused, changing lanes. “But to answer your question, I don’t have any plans at the moment.”

  “What about starting up your own business? Got any hobbies you could turn into money-makers?”

  “Not really. The police force has pretty much been my life for the past thirty-two years. And since I’m not interested in administrative work, which is what the police chief has in mind for me, I’d rather quit.”

  Allie turned pensive, reflecting on Jack’s words and thinking about the past when the two of them had been the best of friends. He had always been the all-or-nothing kind of man. It was his way or the highway, and that caused a good amount of friction between them years ago. But back then, Allie assumed Jack just didn’t understand her, couldn’t relate to her feelings, her needs. Now, however, she couldn’t deny the cold hard truth―he was just plain stubborn!

  Jack exited the interstate and he drove to a hole-in-the-wall place called Zippo’s, located in a deteriorating part of Chicago. Allie felt a little uneasy, walking down the alley with its cracked pavement and the crumbling brick buildings on either side. But Jack assured her that cops liked to eat at this place, so they were probably safer here than most places in Oakland Park.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Allie murmured as he held the door open for her.

  She stepped in and surveyed her surroundings. Framed pictures of policeman throughout history decorated the whitewashed stucco walls and Allie understood why cops liked this place. It touted their professions in a positive way. On the downside, this establishment had a tavern’s atmosphere about it, and she didn’t have any trouble imagining patrons bellying up to the bar and drinking their troubles away.

  “Hey, Jack!” The bartender waved. Above his head hung a glass rack. A nice-looking man, he appeared smaller in stature and wore a white dress shirt, minus a tie. “Good to see ya again. Need a table for two, eh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Follow me.”

  He tucked menus under his arm and led them into the next room. He seated them at a booth against the wall. Allie sat down on one side of the table, and Jack the other.

  “Want a drink, Jack?”

  “Not tonight. Thanks, Zip. Bring me a cup of coffee.”

  Zip looked at Allie. “How ‘bout you?”

  “A glass of tonic with a twist of lime, please.”

  “Sure. Coming right up.” Zip handed them each a menu, then swatted Jack on the arm. “The dame’s got class, eh? Nice goin’.”

  “Get outta here.” Jack looked thoroughly embarrassed.

  Laughing, the man called Zip sauntered away.

  Allie opened her menu, feeling uncomfortable. She much preferred the family-style restaurants, and Zip’s reference to her as a “dame” was irksome.

  “Don’t mind him,” Jack said as if divining her thoughts for a second time tonight. “Zip owns the place and he’s forever trying to set me up with someone―usually one of his fabled homely sisters. But he teases all the single cops who come in here. It’s a long-standing joke. So now that I’ve actually brought a date―”

  “Date?”Allie peered at him from over the menu. “We haven’t even moved up to friends yet.”

  Jack gave her a wry grin. “Touché, Mrs. Littenberg.”

  Allie couldn’t help smiling as she glanced back down at the menu.

  “All kidding aside, if you want to leave we will, Allie. But I promise you Zip makes the best Italian food you’ve ever eaten.”

  “I guess this is all right.” Exhaustion overrode her ability to protest.

  Zip returned with their beverages and took their orders, lasagna for Allie and veal Marsala for Jack. Once he left, Jack took a drink of his coffee and then began drumming his thumb on the table to the soft beat of the sultry saxophone music playing in the background. Sipping her tonic, Allie watched him and noted the muscle working in his jaw. Odd how some things never change.

  “What’s bothering you?”

  “Hmm?” Jack lifted his brows in question.

  “You’re clenching your jaw. What’s bothering you?”

  Jack gave her a peculiar stare, but in the next moment he seemed to give up the pretense. “You said something on Saturday night that has been eating at me the past two days.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We were talking about marriage and I admitted that I’d found out it’s not so great. You said, ‘If you recall, I told you so.’”

  Allie brought that particular conversation back to mind and nodded. “Yes, what about it?”

  “Well,” he hedged, “I guess I’ve been wondering if you remember the day you told me so.”

  She did. Of course, she did. Meeting his brown-eyed gaze, Allie gave a quick bob of her head. “It was the day I left Oakland Park.” She dropped her gaze to her drink. Do you remember?”

  “Everyday for thirty years.”

  Smiling, she stared across the table at him. “Give me a break.” She noticed that Jack didn’t seem amused in the least. Slowly the tru
th seeped in. “Jack, how can you hold a grudge for thirty years? Especially since I apologized.”

  He didn’t reply, but looked somewhere out over her left shoulder.

  Allie’s defenses rose. “You know, if you really loved me so much, you could have called―or answered my dumb letter. You’ve always been the unrelenting sort. Even in my wildest dreams, I never imagined that I wouldn’t see or hear from you again.” She toyed with the lime in her tonic. “When you didn’t reply, I figured it was really over between us. Sometime later, I heard you got married and that pretty much cinched it.”

  Jack gaped at her. “What are you talking about…a letter?”

  “Oh, you remember everything else except the four pages on which I poured out my heart. Great.” She tossed up a glance then shook her head. “You know, Jack, if either of us has a cause to be bitter, it’s me. I didn’t get married first, you did.”

  “Whoa, Allie.” Jack held palms up. “Put on the brakes!”

  Lifting her glass of tonic, she sat back against the bench. She had to admit that it felt rather good to unburden herself like that. Had she really been carrying around that hurt and animosity all this time? Amazing.

  “Back up, okay? What letter are you talking about? I never got a letter from you.”

  “Yes, you did. I sent it a couple of months after I arrived in California.”

  “I never got it.”

  “You don’t remember.”

  “I never got it!” Jack insisted with an edge to his voice.

  Suspicion pecked at her, although she couldn’t think of why he would lie. Which meant that if he was telling the truth…

  She closed her eyes, and exhaled.

  “Maybe you forgot to mail it.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I mailed it.” She pictured herself handing it to the postal worker that day so very long ago.

  “What did it say?”

  She couldn’t recall every word she’d written, but one promise had remained ingrained in her memory.

  Long moments passed as Allie batted around the decision to divulge the letter’s theme, or simply answer with a vague reply. The truth might encourage Jack in an impossible way, for it wasn’t as though they could just pick up where they left off thirty years ago. He was a very different man, one who wasn’t walking with Christ. She was a very different woman, one whose faith meant everything. On the other hand, perhaps the truth would set Jack free of his anger and bitterness once and for all.

  Maybe it would free her too.

  “In my letter,” she began, choosing painful honesty, “I wrote about how sorry I was that we had argued the day I left, and I said that…that I’d love you until the day I died.”

  Jack flinched as her words hit him, and then he appeared to struggle with something inner and undefined.

  “That letter would have changed my life, Allie.” His voice turned hoarse.

  “Your reply to it would have changed mine.”

  Again, he drew back as if she’d struck him. But once more, he pressed on. “Why didn’t you write another one? Why didn’t you call me? You knew my phone number.”

  “In my letter, I gave you an ultimatum. I gave you a choice. Don’t you see, Jack? Everything hinged on your reply. When you didn’t…” She gave him a helpless shrug.

  He narrowed his gaze and a warning glinted in his eyes. “You swear you’re telling the truth, or are you just making this up so I feel guilty?”

  “What do you think?” She stared right back at him.

  “I think…” Jack’s gaze drifted off in the distance for several moments before looking back at her. “I think that if you’re telling the truth, our lives are shaping up like some Shakespearean tragedy.”

  “I swear it’s the truth, and I might agree with you about the tragedy, Jack. But this is where God’s sovereignty comes into play. I believe He controls all things. He obviously lost that letter on purpose.”

  “And why would He do that?” His gaze hardened to stone.

  Sipping her tonic, Allie searched for a reply. Suddenly Nicholas came to mind. Returning her gaze to Jack, she thought of Logan.

  She smiled. “Maybe God knew we would be of more use to Him apart than together. Today there are two young men in full-time service, preaching the truth of the Bible and furthering God’s kingdom. Neither would exist if you and I had gotten married.”

  He inhaled slowly and when his eyes grew misty, Allie’s heart crumbled.

  Lord, please, please use this moment for Your will and glory. Use me, Lord…

  Jack blinked and grunted out a cynical laugh, an obvious cover for his raw emotions. Lifting his stoneware mug, he took another drink of his coffee. “I can’t find God anywhere in this situation. Do you know how many times I prayed that you’d come back, Allie―that you’d come back, tell me how sorry you were for leaving me, and that you’d say you still loved me? A billion times, that’s how many.” He narrowed his gaze. “What are you grinning at?”

  “You.” She shook her head, unable to believe the obvious. “Jack, God answered your prayers. Don’t you see?”

  He raised a brow.

  “Here I am!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Is she serious? The air left Jack’s lungs. On one hand, he longed to believe she meant every word. On the other he knew it just couldn’t be true.

  His reason returned, along with his initial hunch that Allie had come back seeking the man he’d been three decades ago. He almost laughed. So now that her life was all peachy, she thought she’d visit an old flame and see if she could stir something up. Well, she was certainly doing that―stirring things up, namely trouble.

  “Look, Allie, the guy you think you loved, doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “I know.”

  Her simple admission hit him again, and Jack couldn’t believe how bruised he felt. He wanted to strike back. “And I’m not interested in resuming our relationship, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t even want to be your friend, got it?” After finishing his coffee, Jack glanced at her and awaited her reply. He figured he’d see some tears and then she’d have a few choice words for him. He was an ornery guy and women didn’t like mean men. Go ahead, Allie, say it. Tell me you hate me. Wouldn’t be the first time a woman said that to me.

  “You are such a liar, Jack.” Amusement twinkled in her blue eyes. “You went out of your way to take me out to dinner tonight. You said your conscience bothered you because you weren’t very nice on Saturday night. I think you want to be friends―maybe even more than friends, but you’re too stubborn and proud to admit it.”

  “It’s a free country. You can think whatever you want.”

  Allie didn’t say anything more and several minutes later, Zip brought their food.

  “More coffee, Jack?”

  “No. Bring me a beer.”

  “Sure.” Zip looked at Allie. “Anything else for you?”

  “Yes. You can call me cab. I’ll be finished eating by the time it arrives.”

  “Um…yeah, sure.”

  Jack hid his surprise at Allie’s request. But as it sank in, he considered the consequences. Zip, no doubt, would razz him about his “date” walking out on him for months to come. Worse, he’d tell all the guys and Jack would never live this one down.

  “Forget the beer, Zip,” he ground out, hating the fact that he had to relent. “I don’t want the lady to think I drink and drive―I don’t.”

  “I know you don’t, Jack,” Zip said. “One beer won’t hurt.”

  “Naw, bring me a cola. And, Allie, I’ll drive you home whenever you want.”

  Zip glanced at her and bent slightly forward. “Is that acceptable to you?”

  To Jack’s relief she nodded, albeit reluctantly.

  Zip left and Jack watched Allie pray over her food. Simultaneously, they lifted their utensils and began eating in silence, which proved a sort of torture because it left too much room for his thoughts.

  “
How’s the lasagna?” He realized it would serve him right if she threw the plate at him. That’d really give Zip something to talk about.

  Instead, Allie tossed him a polite smile. “It’s good. How’s your veal?”

  “Great. Just great.” As Allie set down her fork, Jack gave her an expectant glance.

  “You know what? Misery is a choice. Just like happiness. Everyone has hard times in life, and―”

  “Put a lid on it, Allie.” He took a bite of pasta and sauce. Maybe he should have let her take the cab and braved his buddies’ teasing.

  Zip brought the cola. “Everything okay now?” He looked from Jack to Allie and they both nodded for lack of a better reply.

  Once he left, she said, “Jack, there are a lot of people who want to love you and be close to you―including the Savior. Why don’t you let them?”

  He gave her a quelling look, refusing to reply, and she wisely clamed up through the rest of their meal.

  Once they finished, Jack tossed a few bucks on the table, paid the cashier, and waved a goodbye to Zip. Wordlessly, he and Allie walked out to his SUV.

  On the way home, she didn’t speak and Jack didn’t bother trying to make polite conversation. Instead he occupied his mind by concentrating on driving Allie back to her hotel. After that, he made plans to go home alone and watch Monday Night Football.

  He reached the hotel and pulled into a parking slip near the front entrance. When Allie didn’t move, he silently cursed. Opening his door, he climbed out and walked around the vehicle to play the proper gentleman. He pulled open her door and she held out her hand. He took it in order to help her from the SUV’s front seat. But he suddenly became aware of how soft and delicate her long fingers felt in his palm. Regret filled his soul. He shouldn’t have lashed out at her. She didn’t deserve his animosity. She had suffered over the years too.

  “Sorry about tonight,” he muttered. “I’m a coldhearted guy, aren’t I?”

  “Is that what you want me to think?”

  Yes, he realized, that’s exactly what he wanted! He had taken Allie out tonight seeking answers, and he’d gotten them. But instead of closing off the trickling of his emotions, as he’d hoped, they’d brought on a steady stream. But if she hated him, that would dam up his feelings for good. He could deal with hatred and yet, in his heart of hearts, he had to admit that he yearned for quite the opposite.