Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series)

by Andrea Boeshaar

  He looked down at her hand, still in his. He rubbed his thumb across her fingers. Night had fallen, but the SUV’s cab light threw off a warm glow that matched the balmy September breeze.

  “Oh, Allie, why’d you come back here? Don’t you know how much it hurts to see you again?”

  “I didn’t want it to hurt, Jack. Please believe me. The whole point in coming back to Oakland Park was so I could tell you what God did in my life. You’re the one who led me to a saving knowledge of Christ. I thought you’d want to know.”

  He lifted his gaze, peered into her upturned face. Moisture glistened in her eyes.

  “I thought you’d be glad to see me.” An errant tear slipped down her cheek.

  His calloused constitution all but dissolved. Pulling her forward, he gathered her into his arms. That one lonesome tear had amazing power. He was accustomed to seeing women cry. In the line of duty he’d answered calls ranging from domestic violence to an old woman’s cat stuck in a treetop. But Allie’s solitary tear seemed so much different.

  Her hair smelled like a bouquet and, holding her in his arms he realized that in spite of her sturdy disposition, she seemed as fragile as fine porcelain. He hated the thought of her husband physically hurting her. It made him sick when he imagined the ugly scene in which the guy had cut her cheek.

  “You should have called me, Allie. I should have called you.”

  “No regrets, okay?” She gave him an affectionate squeeze.

  “Regrets? That pretty much sums up my life.”

  “No―”

  “Yes! And as long as I’m confessing,” he murmured, his cheek against her temple, “you’re right. I lied earlier tonight. But I don’t know about being your friend, Allie…or anything more than your friend. Except that’s all I’ve been thinking about. Maybe I’m a nut-case as well as a liar.”

  He heard her sniff before she pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. Then she stepped back, out of the embrace. “Maybe you’re just human.”

  He supposed that might explain it.

  “May I suggest that we both let go of the past, Jack? I’m saying this as much to myself as to you. We can’t change any of it. My prayer for you is that you’ll look to Christ again and that we’ll both trust Him with our futures.” She smiled up at him. “Like my son Nick always says, ‘The Christian life is an adventure.’”

  Jack remained silent, but he recalled a time when he thought that same way.

  A few awkward moments went by.

  “I should go in,” Allie said at last.

  He nodded.

  “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Sure.”

  Jack watched her walk to the hotel where she disappeared into its well-lit lobby. Closing the door of the SUV, he made his way around to the other side and crawled back in behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he began his journey home.

  * * *

  Cynthia awakened with a start only to discover that she’d been dreaming again. While most times her dreams were a welcomed diversion from her bone-grinding pain, this one left her feeling troubled. In it, she was young again. Oh, that part didn’t disturb her. Not in the least. What bothered her was the man who had entered her dream.

  There she sat on a summer afternoon, on the front porch steps of a quaint little home, bouncing an infant on her knee. He smiled and cooed. Putting a chubby finger in his mouth, the baby drooled all over her bare legs. She wiped the slobber away with the clean cotton diaper that she habitually kept over her shoulder in case more than spittle came out of his mouth. It was known to happen.

  Then suddenly her first ex-husband stood in front of her. He wore his uniform, and she smiled because he looked so tall and handsome. But he didn’t smile back. Instead, he snatched the baby off her lap.

  “Wait!” she cried. “Don’t take him.”

  “He’s mine.” He turned his back on her. “You didn’t want him, remember?”

  “But I do now.”

  “Just look at you. You’re filthy.”

  Glancing down, she realized what he said was true. She tried to brush off the dirt and grime that seemed to cover her from head to foot. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she sensed it was her fault.

  “You’re an unfit mother.”

  “Wait. Just give me another chance.” The words echoed in her head. Another chance! Give me another chance!

  She woke up. Her hair, what was left of it after the chemotherapy two months ago, dripped with perspiration. Her skin felt clammy. Worse, she relived that maternal wrenching of her soul―

  Just like when she had to give up her baby.

  * * *

  Logan walked into the apartment and found his dad sitting on the couch staring at the television set. The only problem was the TV wasn’t on.

  “Yoo-hoo…” Logan waved his hand in front of his father’s face. “Anybody home?”

  Dad slid his gaze to him. “Where have you been all night?”

  “I have been the victim of a sneak attack.” He grinned at his dad’s concerned frown. “Marilee and her mother,” he explained. “The two of them ganged up on me tonight and I never even saw ‘em coming.”

  Uncrossing his leg, Dad put his feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah, I can relate to those kinds of sneak attacks.”

  “So they both start telling me why it’s impossible to plan a wedding in three months.” Logan felt a rant coming on. He’d lost fair and square and he determined not to be a sore loser. “I held my own until…” He sighed. “…until Marilee gave me one of those puppy-in-the-window looks. Then I knew it was all over.”

  Dad grinned. “So when’s the wedding?”

  Logan collapsed into the couch beside his dad. “End of May.”

  “No Christmas wedding, eh? Your Aunt Nora will be disappointed. That’s all she could talk about this afternoon.”

  “Nobody could be more disappointed than I am. Once I make up my mind about something, I don’t want to wait for it to happen.”

  Dad chuckled.

  Smiling, Logan stared at him. “When did you see Aunt Nora?”

  “I stopped by earlier.”

  “Guess I’d better call her tomorrow and tell her the bad news.” One thought led to another. “And I guess I’d better develop some backbone if I’m going to be the head of my household. I can’t let Marilee sweet talk me around every issue.”

  “Good luck, kid.”

  Sitting forward, Logan cocked his head. “What’s that s’pose to mean?”

  “You’ve got a Bible. Read Genesis. Ever since Eve talked Adam into taking a bite of that apple, we men are downright vulnerable when it comes to that age-old female persuasion.”

  “Bummer.” Dad’s referencing the Bible?

  “But, on the other hand, it does have its advantages. Sometimes it’s kind of fun being persuaded.”

  “Maybe we’d better continue this conversation a little closer to my wedding date.” Logan thought the topic might lead them into dangerous waters. “I’ve got almost a year to wait.”

  “Stay busy. It’ll go fast.” Dad dropped his head back against the couch. “All of a sudden you’ll be my age and you’ll wonder where all the time went.”

  Logan studied his hands, dangling over his knees. “Is that what you’ve been sitting here thinking about? Where all the time went?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Dad gave him a speculative glance and Logan debated whether to say more.

  Finally, he did. “I had dinner with Allie tonight and I learned that she sent me a letter years ago, shortly after she left Oakland Park. She wanted to get back together, but I never got the letter.” Dad closed his eyes. “Allie thinks God lost it on purpose, and all for good. But, to me, it seems like a cruel joke on God’s part. I loved her so much.”

  Compassion tweaked Logan’s soul while anger gripped his heart. In so many words, Dad just wished away his very existence.

  “You know, I hate to say it, but I’m going to anyhow.” Logan clasped his hand
s. “You’re sounding like a selfish man, Dad. I mean, think of that classic old movie It’s a Wonderful Life and consider for a moment how many people wouldn’t be here today―or would be in hell right now―if you were God.”

  Dad scowled. “Get down from your high horse for a sec, Logan, and try to imagine how I feel.”

  “You’re pining over a past that never was,” he shot back. “You’re feeling sorry for yourself. What’s to imagine?”

  Logan stormed from the den, struggling to keep his resentment in check. Reaching his bedroom, he stepped inside, turned on the light, and closed the door behind him, fighting the urge to give it a good slam.

  Lord, I feel like I’m an angry teenager again, I feel like going back into the other room and starting a major argument. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, resisting the desire to rail on his dad. Keep me from doing that, Heavenly Father. It’ll ruin everything I set out to accomplish by moving in with him. Help me turn the other cheek and show him Christ-like love.

  The moments ticked by and suddenly a calm settled over Logan―a calm mingled with contrition. Was he really so insecure that he’d overreacted to Dad’s admission? So he’d been in love with Allie. Big deal. That wasn’t much of a surprise. Logan had suspected it from the first night she came to town. But, perhaps, his aggravation―and his hurt―stemmed from the fact that he was a product of the past his father condemned. Logan wished it wasn’t true, but it was. And he wished he could accept it, but he couldn’t.

  So many wishes…

  Walking to the window, Logan pulled open the blinds and peered out at the star-strewn sky. Lord, You can turn the hearts of kings. Surely You can turn my dad’s. After a moment’s pause, he added, And mine too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Satisfied, Allie walked out of a two hour meeting with the supervisors on each floor of Arbor Springs. They had accomplished more than she’d hoped this afternoon. Heading to her office, she glanced at her watch and realized it was almost time to wrap up the day. As she pulled out her briefcase and began packing up paperwork that she intended to work on tonight, the phone rang. Would it be Jack?. She hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days. Had anything good come out of their dinner “date” Monday night?

  She lifted the receiver. “This is Allison Littenberg.”

  “Hi, Allie. It’s Colleen.”

  Hearing her stepsister’s voice, she smiled. “Well, hi. I’m glad you called. I’ve been feeling a little bad about what happened last Saturday night.”

  “Me, too. What’s more, Brenda wants to apologize. You wouldn’t believe what happened. I had to call you right way and tell you.”

  A frown weighed on her brow as she sat down behind her desk. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “Oh, no.” Colleen laughed. “In a way, it’s sort of funny. Jack pulled her over while she was on her way home from work a couple of hours ago. Lights and sirens―the whole bit. Brenda forgot to turn her blinker on when she made a left turn. Jack gave her a citation and then proceeded to chew her out for being so rude on Saturday night.”

  Allie grimaced. “Oh, dear…”

  “Well, Brenda deserved it―citation and all. I lectured her on the way home Saturday night, but coming from Jack today, I guess it really hit home. She called to tell me to invite you to dinner. Brenda said she’ll come too, and we can put last Saturday and everything else behind us and start all over.”

  “A wonderful idea!”Allie’s heart soared. Thank You, Lord, for answering my prayers!

  “I told Brenda that’s what you’d say, but she was so broken up over Jack’s tongue lashing that she was afraid you’d give her another one.”

  “Listen, I’m rejoicing at this turn of events.” Leaning forward, Allie dug through her briefcase and found her planner. “When would you like to get together?”

  “How ‘bout Friday night? Can you come about six o’clock?”

  Allie didn’t have any plans. “Sure.” She penciled in the time.

  “Hey, um…should I invite Jack, too?”

  She grinned at the conspiratorial tone in Colleen’s voice. “Sure, go ahead and ask him.”

  “Are you two―”

  “Friends? We’re working on it.” Smiling, Allie picked up an ink pen and doodled as the memory of being in Jack’s arms flitted across her mind. She hoped they were friends. She wanted to be friends…

  “Hm…okay. Well we’ll see you Friday night.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks for calling, Colleen.”

  Allie hung up and allowed herself a moment to reflect on the conversation. Then she glanced at her wristwatch. Almost six o’clock. She wanted to go up and see Mrs. Matlock before she left. Yesterday, the poor woman had been confused and she rambled on about all sorts of nonsense. Maybe today she’d be more coherent.

  Leaving her belongings on the desk, Allie walked out of her office. Locking the door behind her, she headed for the elevator, praying for another chance to share Christ with a dying soul.

  * * *

  Logan stood in the back of what was fondly referred to as Youth Group Hall. He and the kids and the four volunteers had just finished praying for Susan, the young lady who had been struck by a car, and now it was time for tonight’s skit. It always amazed Logan what the teenagers came up with. Sometimes the short dramas were serious, other times they were comical acts, but the messages were always poignant and a source of help for those kids struggling with various issues.

  Tonight the skit began on the humorous side―at least it was supposed to be. The kids up on the makeshift stage were doing their impression of Logan proposing to Marilee. It was interesting to see how the teens’ imagined that night. According to their reenactment, he’d taken Marilee out to a classy restaurant for dinner, but instead of pouring out a proposal, he spilled his glass of grape soda in her lap.

  Logan wagged his head at their antics. Next the actor portraying him cut into his New York strip. While doing so, he knocked his salad onto the floor. Finally, when he got down on his knee to pop the question, he had steak sauce on his hands and got it all over the actress playing Marilee who was wearing a pale yellow dress.

  Grinning, Logan rolled his eyes before scanning the room for real-life fiancée, but she still hadn’t shown up. Unusual for her. Marilee always arrived before the Teen Scene began each Wednesday night. Upstairs in the auditorium, the rest of the congregation listened to Pastor Warren’s midweek message, which would be followed up with a time of prayer. Logan could only assume that something happened with one of Marilee’s students. What else could have detained her?

  The kids wrapped up their skit. The Logan on stage got a shaving cream pie in the face after the waiter tripped. Then, with their clothes soiled and the white tablecloth discolored from spills, the couple exclaimed that God had a perfect plan for everyone’s life and that it included a soul-mate. No need to worry about the future. God had everything under control. The drama ended after the actor playing Logan said, “It took a really long time. I’m pretty old. But God worked it all out and now I’m finally getting married.”

  The couple on stage gave each other feigned looks of adoration, and the skit ended.

  Logan snorted while the teenage audience clapped with enthusiasm. Even his niece Veronica smiled. So to humor them, he did his best old man interpretation. Hunching his back, he shuffled up to the front.

  “All right now, boys and girls.” His lips covered his teeth to infer that he had none, “it’s time for our nap.”

  Giggles and groans emanated from the group.

  Smiling, Logan straightened to his full height. “Okay, fun’s over.” He clapped his hands to get their attention. “Time to get serious.”

  “So how did you really propose?” A freckled-faced, red-haired girl wanted to know. Logan didn’t recognize her as one of his youth group’s regulars. But her question sparked the others to ask and in moments there was a veritable uproar.

  “All right, all right. Settle down.” Logan wai
ted for the kids to quiet before he continued. He hated to confess that he’d ask Marilee to be his wife in a lousy parking lot while she was half freezing to death.

  “I believe I saw roses on my parents’ baby grand piano.” A delicate voice wafted through the hall.

  Looking toward the doorway, Logan grinned seeing Marilee standing there, arms folded as she leaned against the metal frame.

  “It was quite the romantic setting,” she continued. “I couldn’t have imagined anything better.”

  Logan’s smile grew. Imagined indeed! He swept his gaze over the youth group. “Everyone satisfied?”

  “Did you say ‘yes’ right away?” Debbie Kilgers looked at Marilee. “Or did you make him squirm a little?”

  “I accepted immediately.”

  Marilee gave Logan an adoring look and he knew it wasn’t just for show. He suddenly thought he knew the meaning of “warm and fuzzy” because that’s what his insides felt like.

  “You should have made him squirm, Miss Domotor,” another girl said.

  More giggles and a lot more groans broke out, the loudest emanating from his cousin Ricky.

  “You shoulda said ‘no,’ Miss Domotor,” the stocky lad called, his hands on either side of his mouth. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  Logan narrowed his gaze and pointed at Ricky. “I’ll take care of you later.”

  The kid just laughed.

  Logan chuckled as he imagined all kinds of things he’d like to do to his little cousin. Cayenne pepper in his next glass of cola…hmm, that idea had possibilities.

  “Miss Domotor couldn’t string him along,” Veronica stood. “She didn’t want him to change his mind!” When noise settled she looked right at Logan, adding, “Took him long enough to ask!”

  “I love you too, Ronnie.” Logan thought of her as more of a baby sister than a cousin.

  She replied with an uninterested little shrug and sat back down.

  A lively debate broke out between the guys and the girls―to make him squirm or not to make him squirm―until Logan put his forefinger and thumb in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle that hushed the teens in seconds.