Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series)

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “I want your dad to work for me,” Allie blurted. “I want him to train our security personnel. Think he’ll bite?”

  “Maybe.” Logan grinned. “Can’t hurt to ask, that’s for sure.” Glancing at his watch. “Speaking of work, I’d better get going.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  Allie escorted him into the lobby. She wished him a good day and made him promise not to mention anything to Jack about the possible job opportunity. Logan motioned as if he locked his lips with a key. Allie laughed at his antics.

  After he left, she headed back to her office, but the sight at the reception desk caused her to halt in her tracks. The security guard reclined in his chair, his head resting against the wall and his eyes closed.

  “Hey, wake up.” She smacked her hand on the desk a few times.

  The older man with a large protruding belly, brought himself up quickly. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled with a snort. He finger-combed his gray hair. “Can I help you?”

  Allie’s voice turned terse. “Yes you can. You can refrain from sleeping on the job. We’re paying you to keep an eye on things and watch the comings and goings so our patients are protected.”

  “Look,” he shot back, “this is a part-time job for me and it pays minimum wage. It barely supplements my Medicare. If you want a cop sitting here, then hire a cop. But, if you do, you’re gonna have to pay him like a cop.”

  “You know? You’re right. In this world, you get what you pay for. Thank you for illustrating that point.”

  The man muttered a vague obscenity, which Allie chose to ignore. She strode to her office taking quick, hard steps and bit her lip against the frustration mounting inside of her. When people entered Arbor Springs, they were greeted by one of the security personnel. What an impressive image!

  Lord, I need Jack’s help.

  * * *

  Jack set several dollar bills on the counter while the florist wrapped his purchase in green tissue paper. “I can’t believe I’m paying all this money for a dozen roses,” he muttered to Veronica who stood beside him. “What color did you say those were?”

  “Pink Lipstick, Uncle Jack.” She smiled. “Mrs. Littenberg’s going to love ‘em.”

  “She’d better for this price!”

  “Oh, Uncle Jack, stop being such a curmudgeon.”

  “A…who?”

  “A crabby old man.”

  With raised eyebrow, he considered his sassy niece. Dressed in a multi-colored striped sweater and a denim skirt, she carried a small purse over one shoulder.

  “I shouldn’t have answered the phone when you called me this morning. And I really shouldn’t have let you talk me into buying flowers.”

  Ronnie shrugged. “Too late now. Besides, I didn’t feel like taking the bus this morning so having you drop me off at school in time for second hour worked great for my schedule.”

  “I feel so used.” Jack tried hard not to laugh, although a grin escaped him.

  Ronnie began to wander around the shop. She paused by a large marble-top table and leaned forward to sniff an arrangement.

  Jack’s grin widened. “Hey.” He motioned to the florist.“Add one more of those Lipstick things to my bill.”

  The older man nodded and rang up his order, took the money, and handed him back his change. Jack thanked me and gathered his purchases. “Let’s go, Ronnie.”

  When they arrived at his Explorer, Jack unlocked the passenger side and opened the door for his niece. Once she’d gotten in, he handed her the rose. “This is for you.”

  She smiled and held the blossom to her nose. “Thanks, Uncle Jack.”

  He set the wrapped roses into the backseat and shut the door.

  “You know, women are a lot like roses,” he said. “They’re pretty and they smell nice, but they’re prickly too, so a guy’s got to be really careful when he handles them.”

  As he moved to close Ronnie’s door, the awed expression on her face stopped him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You have a romantic side after all!”

  Jack felt embarrassed. “Just don’t tell anybody, okay?” Closing the door, he walked around the SUV and climbed in behind the wheel.

  “You should write a poem for Mrs. Littenberg.”

  “No, I shouldn’t.” Jack started the engine. “I just said that rose thing because I pricked myself when the florist handed me your flower.”

  “But that was nice…not that you hurt yourself, but what you said. And it’s true, too. We women need to be handled delicately.”

  Curiosity tapped him. “Don’t you get treated delicately at home?”

  “No! I get treated like a child.” Ronnie held the rose against her cheek. “My dad still calls me ‘baby.’”

  “That’s an endearment. He doesn’t mean it literally.”

  “Yes, he does. He still thinks I’m twelve. It’s like he’s stuck in a time warp. And if I even mention a guy I’m sort of interested in, he goes ballistic.”

  Jack chuckled. “Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you’ll probably always be your daddy’s little girl. After all, you were the one who changed his life forever. You made him a father, and my brother and I were taught to take that responsibility very seriously. Just ask Logan. I may not have been around a lot, but I always knew what my kid was up to.”

  “Except he’s not a kid anymore.”

  “No, he’s not. But I will admit that sometimes I treat him like one…and that’s my fault, I know.” Jack reached the public school and slowed at the side of the curb. He turned to Veronica. “Sometimes us parents can’t help being parents―and someday you’ll understand.”

  “Tears pooled in Veronica’s eyes. “I just want my mom and dad to accept me for who I am.”

  “Okay, but that works both ways. You have to accept them for who they are.”

  “I do, Uncle Jack.”

  “Hmm, well, I don’t know what else to tell you, kiddo.”

  She gave him a pointed stare.

  He laughed. “See what I mean? We can’t help it.”

  After a roll of her brown eyes, Ronnie’s expression softened. She unlatched the door and swung it open. “Call me tonight and tell me what Mrs. Littenberg says about the roses.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jack grinned. “That better?”

  “As a matter of fact, it is.” She picked up her backpack from in between the seats and climbed out.

  Jack watched her walk to the front entrance of the high school. Steve had good reason to be proud of that girl―er, young lady.

  Grinning, Jack stepped on the accelerator, pulling away from the curb. Now to give a certain woman a dozen Pink Lipstick roses and hope she doesn’t throw them back in his curmudgeon face.

  * * *

  Cynthia relaxed as the medication Nate injected began to work its magic throughout her pain-riddled body. Unfortunately, it didn’t dull her mind. She relived the visit with her son. The words he spoke, haunted her. You’re not alone. You’ve got me.

  He didn’t really mean it, right?. He was just being nice.

  More thoughts flittered through her head―more thoughts and more memories. Cynthia soon realized that her son was like his dad in more ways than just appearance. Jack had been a nice man too…when she’d first met him. The cops had raided the tavern from which her employer ran his escort service, and Cynthia had never been so frightened in her life. One officer got rough with her, but Jack had quickly stepped in. He spoke to her in a gentle voice and reassured her. He didn’t manhandle her, but treated her with respect.

  Cynthia had fallen in love with him almost immediately. He was the first man ever to show her some kindness without desiring the use of her body. But all too soon, she wanted something from him―his heart. She never got it, however, and Cynthia was surprised to find that it still stung.

  “Oh, God, why couldn’t I ever find a man who loved me?” she wailed into the empty room. “Why wasn’t I ever loved? Was that reall
y too much to ask?”

  She closed her eyes and allowed her tears to fall unchecked. Her misery increased until anguished sobs caused her body to convulse. She cried for that which she longed for, but never had. True love. If she died right now, the world would go on turning and her ex-husbands, son, and daughters would continue about their business. No one would even miss her. She felt like The Beatles’ famed Eleanor Rigby, one of those lonely people who would die and never be remembered. Her life meant nothing. She should have never been born!

  “Why, God? Why?” Cynthia lamented. “Why was I put on this planet? I’m worthless. I’m nothing!”

  More cries spilled from the depth of her soul until finally Cynthia lay exhausted on her hospital bed. At long last, she drifted off into a troubled sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Allie had no sooner turned on her computer when the surly security guard appeared in her doorway.

  “Someone else is here asking for you,” he barked.

  “Who is it? Did you get a name?”

  “Look, I’m not your personal secretary, okay?”

  He lumbered away and Allie started fuming again. The security people needed to learn to use the phone system. She heading for the lobby. They needed to announce visitors and learn what to say to respective customers. They needed to be trained to—

  She looked up. “Jack!”

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “Hi, Allie. I didn’t mean to bother you.” He glanced at the security guard then back at her. “I just wanted to give you these.” He swept a package of green tissue paper off of the reception desk and placed it in her arms.

  Cradling the gift, Allie could tell they were flowers. “How thoughtful. Come on back to my office.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “You’re no interruption.” She inclined her head towards the hallway. “Come on.”

  As she walked with him to her office, Allie conversed with the Lord. I’m taking this as a sign…You brought Jack right to me. I didn’t have to phone him…

  Once inside, she offered Jack a seat while she dashed off to the small kitchen area down the hall and borrowed one of the several pressed-glass vases. After filling it with water, she returned to her office.

  Jack studied the famed picture of Nick and Jennifer that she kept on her desk.“This your son?” “Yes…my son and daughter-in-law.”

  “He has your eyes…and your chin, I think.”

  “Nick is a mix of his father and me.”

  “Are you two close?”

  “Very. I speak with him and Jenn by phone at least once a week. When I’m in town, we spend Sundays together.” Allie gently tore the paper away and smiled when she saw the roses. “Oh, these are beautiful. Thank you, Jack.”

  He set down the picture. “You’re welcome.”

  “So what do they mean?” Were they some sort of peace offering? “Why did you bring me roses?”

  He shrugged. “My niece accused me of not having a romantic bone in my body and then she proceeded to talk me into buying you flowers.”

  “Oh…” Allie decided on teasing him. “Well, I can’t imagine why your niece would say such a thing. I mean, my goodness! Your poetic words just now make me want to swoon.” She placed a hand across her forehead.

  “Very funny.” Jack sat back in the chair and crossed his leg. “I may not be a romantic. But you’re a terrible actress.”

  “You’re right. I am.” Allie smiled and cupped a rose, inhaling its fragrant scent. “Mmm…tell your niece she did a great job picking out the roses. They’re my favorite.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  “Is the niece we’re discussing Veronica?”

  Jack nodded.

  “I’ve met her a couple of times. She’s a sweet girl.”

  “Yes, she is…even if she is seventeen.”

  Allie momentarily mulled over the remark. “That’s how old I was when we met, Jack. Seventeen.”

  “Yeah, but you never seemed that young. Maybe because the world was a different place.”

  “Maybe…” Allie though it had more to do with the way she’d been raised. Her parents weren’t Christians, nor were her stepfather and stepsisters.

  With the roses in water now, Allie leaned back against her desk. She folded her arms and regarded her unexpected guest. Jack wore blue jeans and a thick green cotton sweater. His salt-and-pepper gray hair was cropped short, neatly combed and parted to one side. To Allie, he was handsome at fifty-five as he was in his mid-twenties.

  “So,” she said, pulling herself to the present, “what do you think of my office?”

  Jack did a sweeping glance of his surroundings. “Nice. Small, but nice.”

  “Cramped is the word I’d use to describe it. But it’s only temporary.”

  “It’s better than anything I was assigned to at the station.”

  “I should count my blessings.”

  Jack sat forward. “Not to change the subject, Allie, but something’s bugging me. It’s that guy in the lobby. You might want to do something about him. He was snoozing when I walked in and he was rude when I woke him up.”

  “Funny you should mention the security guard...”

  Jack raised his dark brows. “That’s a security guard?”

  Allie wanted to laugh. How good of the Lord to bring about this opportunity. Taking a sidestep, she pushed her door closed. “Jack, you and I need to talk.”

  * * *

  Sunshine spilled through the autumn-colored treetops as Marilee watched her third graders frolic on the playground. Tomorrow was October first and these perfect fall days would be fewer and far between. Then the snow would fly.

  Marilee, however, didn’t mind the winter months. She loved the Christmas holidays shared with family and friends. She enjoyed ice-skating, sledding, skiing and snowmobiling. She especially liked to cozy up in front of a glowing fireplace and read. However, she figured there wouldn’t be much time for lounging since Logan would most likely keep the youth group kids and staff just as busy in winter as they were in the summer. Moreover, Marilee anticipated list after list of tasks to accomplish in preparation for their wedding. Before she’d know it, that special day would arrive.

  As she sat on park bench, one of four at this end of the playground, Marilee daydreamed. She imagined Logan looking handsome in his tux and saw herself as stunning in her white bridal gown with its pearls and lace bodice. The month of May couldn’t get here fast enough, although Marilee cringed thinking of everything she had to do before that time arrived.

  Katie Sanders and Lisa Dennison interrupted her reverie by running over to tattle on Bobby Ryan who wouldn’t let them play soccer. Marilee stood and walked over to the boy and listened to his complaint about teams already being chosen. She explained that one team could take Katie and the other Lisa and the sides would still be fair. The pudgy, freckle-faced, red-haired boy who had somehow endeared himself to Marilee already, acquiesced and the girls seemed satisfied with the outcome.

  Sitting back down on the bench, Marilee had no sooner gotten comfy when a pair of hands covered her eyes.

  “Guess who?” His warm breath tickled her neck.

  She laughed and peeled away the strong fingers of her fiancé. “I don’t have to guess, silly. I’d know your voice anywhere.”

  In seconds, Logan sat beside her. She lost herself in his chocolate-brown eyes, thinking how blessed she was that she’d get to stare at Logan Callahan for the rest of her life. “How’d it go this morning? I prayed for you while the kids were taking their Monday morning math quiz.”

  “Thanks.” He turned his head and looked out over the playground. “Things went…pretty good, I guess…for a first meeting.”

  Marilee frowned. “You sound disappointed.”

  Pursing his lips, he appeared to mull over the statement. “Maybe I am,” he replied at last. “I had imagined something a little more dramatic. A grand apology, but what I got were tears, excuses, blame, and a challenge. It’s as i
f she wanted me to hate her.”

  Marilee’s heart went out to him. A grand apology was the least he deserved from his natural mother. “Were you able to discuss anything else?”

  “No. When I questioned her further, I upset her. On the other hand…” Logan brought his gaze back to hers. “She said my dad did a better job raising me than she did with her daughters―she actually called them ‘hussies’ and tried to discourage me from getting in touch with them.” He grinned. “But all I know is I have two sisters and I’m anxious to meet them. Allie is going to try and contact them for me.”

  “Hussies?” Marilee hadn’t gotten past that word. A sense of foreboding crept over her. “I hope you’re not setting yourself up for more disappointment. You’re such a friendly, loving person, but not everyone is like you. What if your sisters don’t want anything to do with you? You just told me that your mother wasn’t thrilled to see you this morning. What if your sisters react in the same way―or worse? What if they don’t want to hear about the Lord?”

  “Then I’ll just have to accept it.” He gave a casual lift of his shoulders.

  Marilee folded her arms. “I don’t like the sound of this Logan.” She thought it was dangerous enough that he ventured into his natural mother’s hospital room this morning. “I think you should reconsider.”

  He crossed his leg and stretched his arm out along the back of the bench. “Not this time, Sweetheart. The wedding date was one thing, but you’re not talking me out of this. I’ve made up my mind to meet my half sisters and that’s that.”

  “Suit yourself” His adamant tone hurt Marilee’s feelings. “I was only thinking of you.”

  His hand came to rest on the back of her neck and she had to fight the urge to snuggle in closer to him. “Are we going to have our first fight?” He sounded amused.

  Her agitation dissolved and she had to laugh. “I guess not.”

  “Whew! What a relief.”

  Marilee continued to smile. “Want to come over for dinner tonight?”

  “What are you making?”

  “Whatever you want.”