by Irene Brand
They stopped for lunch in Berlin at an Amish restaurant. After one look at the vast varieties and amount of food on the buffet, Chad said, “I’m not to be trusted at this kind of spread. I’ll order from the menu, but you choose buffet if you prefer.”
“This restaurant is known for its potato soup,” she continued as the waitress took them to a table. “I’ll settle for a large bowl of soup and a piece of their famous apple pie à la mode.”
When the waitress offered them a menu, he shook his head. “Bring us two bowls of potato soup for now. And I want unsweetened iced tea.” He glanced at Vicky. “What do you want to drink?”
“Water with lemon for now. I’ll have hot tea with my apple pie later.”
He took a deep breath and slouched in his chair.
“You’re tired,” Vicky said. “I shouldn’t have let you drive so far. Why don’t I drive home and you can enjoy the view?”
“Sounds good to me. It irritates me when I wear out so quickly.”
He marveled that Vicky could talk about his disability without seeming to “fuss” over him as his mother did.
“You seem to be more adjusted to the change in your life. Or are you putting on a front for me? You don’t have to, you know.”
“No, I’m not adjusted,” he admitted. “Sometimes in the night I wake up so angry that I can’t stand myself. I’ve gotten up a few times, dressed and walked up and down the street.”
“That might not be wise. Columbus isn’t as safe as an Alabama town.”
“I know that, but when I get in those moods, I don’t care what happens to me.”
“Been there and done that,” Vicky admitted, “but you should consider the thousands of people who admire you and do care what happens to you.”
Shamefaced, he said, “I do feel guilty about my thoughts. I shouldn’t have told you but so far, you’re the only one I dare let down my guard for. I feel kinda mean, as if I’m using you, but as long as I’m honest about it, you can tell me if you get tired of being a sounding board.”
“I don’t mind at all. Honestly, you’re helping me, too. I’ve not accomplished a great deal in my life, and if I feel I’m of any help to you, it lifts my self-esteem considerably.”
As they ate their meal, Vicky contemplated the risk she was taking. When the day came that Chad no longer needed her and could find his way alone, what would that do to her self-esteem? She felt sure that God had a great future in store for Chad. And when he finally overcame his disappointment and realized that, God would open up opportunities that would take him a long way from Columbus, Ohio. She would have no place in that new life.
“I am making some progress, though,” Chad said, interrupting her thoughts. “I recently rented a box at the post office and picked up my mail yesterday.”
With enjoyment he told her about the large amount of mail that had been forwarded to his box. “It will take days for me to sort through all of it. If you have any extra time, maybe you can help me with that?”
“It’s only midafternoon. We could work on it the rest of the day as far as I’m concerned.”
“Why don’t we do that? I don’t want to get in bad with my landlady by entertaining you in my room, so I’ll ask her to play chaperone.”
“Do you think she will?”
“I have no idea. I rarely see her. But I’ll convince her that we are friends and nothing more.”
Although she knew it shouldn’t matter, his comment left Vicky with a hollow feeling inside. He obviously didn’t share her feelings. Was she making another romantic mistake?
Chapter Five
Nothing he had done since his injury had brought Chad the peace and satisfaction as this day of traveling through rural Ohio with Vicky. He hadn’t realized that he had dozed until she reached the Interstate to take them to downtown Columbus and the car’s speed increased.
He sat up from his slouched position and yawned.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been very good company. Have I been asleep very long?”
“Maybe a half hour. You needed the rest. Don’t worry about it.”
She stopped in front of his apartment twenty minutes later. “If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll check and see what Mrs. Lashley thinks of our plan,” he said.
Chad walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. Considering the speed with which Mrs. Lashley opened the door, he wondered how much time she spent looking out the window.
After greeting her pleasantly, he said, “I wonder if you have time to help me for a few hours.”
She lifted her eyebrows, eyeing him suspiciously.
“My mail has been forwarded and I have three large bags that have to be sorted. I’d like for Vicky to help me, but since I know you’re concerned about the reputation of your home, would you mind helping us? I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Mr. Reece!” she said, a frown spreading across her face. “I’m not in the habit of charging for favors to people. Unlock the door into the hallway, and I’ll be up shortly.”
As he returned to Vicky, he wondered if his landlady was smothering a smile or did he just imagine it?
He was grinning widely when he opened the car door. “Drive around to the back of the house and park. The formidable Mrs. Lashley has agreed to keep an eye on us.”
They were sitting on the floor with the contents of one of the bags spread around them when she entered the room.
“Make yourself at home, Mrs. Lashley,” Chad said.
“If I’m ‘at home’, I need to be working. What can I do?”
“You know your way around the apartment,” he said. “It would be super if you’d pour us some ginger ale. And there’s a bag of cookies in the cabinet.”
She marched into the kitchen and Chad heard doors opening and closing. “You don’t have much to eat in here, young man,” she called.
Chad favored Vicky with a lopsided grin and whispered, “Just what I need—another mother when I already have two.”
“You can tell by looking at me that I’m a light eater,” Chad answered his landlady.
“Humph.” Her answer sounded loud and clear from the kitchen.
Mrs. Lashley soon brought in two cold drinks and put them on the floor beside Vicky and Chad with a napkin underneath. Vicky judged that she was probably in her early seventies but she was as spry as a puppy.
“Don’t spill that on the carpet,” she warned as she set a plate of cookies before them.
Mrs. Lashley had a cloth tucked under her arm and she started dusting the furniture.
“Young man,” she started, and Chad interrupted her.
“I have a name, you know. Why not call me Chad?”
She acquiesced with a slight nod. “You should dust this apartment and run the sweeper. There’s a sweeper in the pantry. Haven’t you found it?”
Chad winked when he caught Vicky’s eye. “I haven’t looked. I’m not much of a housekeeper.”
“Then I’ll have to come in weekly and give these rooms a once-over.”
Shaking her head, the landlady took the magazines and newspapers Chad had left on the coffee table and put them on a bookshelf. She looked into the bedroom and sighed.
“Bachelors!” she muttered.
By the time she had cleaned the apartment to her satisfaction, Vicky and Chad had sorted the contents of one bag into three stacks: first class, junk mail, and questionable.
“I can’t make any decision on what you want to keep,” Vicky said. “But if you’ll toss me the things you want to dispose of, I can stuff them into this garbage bag we’ve emptied.”
Mrs. Lashley sat on the couch and watched Vicky and Chad for several minutes. “I’ll be glad to help,” she said.
“You can help Vicky unload and sort the second bag while I check through this first-class mail,” Chad said. “But I mustn’t impose on your good nature.”
“Assuming that I have a good nature,” she said as she pulled a stool close to where Vicky sat on the floor.
Noting her twinkling blue
eyes, Chad said, “You’re not fooling me, Mrs. Lashley. Beneath that gruff exterior, you’re a lovable teddy bear.”
“Humph! Don’t try my patience, or you’ll find out. And you don’t need to call me Mrs. Lashley. My name is Grace.”
So Chad had won over Mrs. Lashley as quickly as he had her, Vicky thought as she sorted the mail and Chad and Mrs. Lashley quibbled about nothing in particular. What was there about Chad Reece that made him so personable? Vicky thanked God that his real personality was overcoming the tragedy in his life. But she wondered again if Chad was putting on this carefree front to hide the misery he felt inside. If so, that wasn’t a good thing, and she eyed Chad carefully while they worked. She decided that for the present he’d forgotten about his tragedy.
After sitting and scooting around on the floor for a few hours, Chad had difficulty standing, and Vicky noticed that he clapped his hand on his back. Was his incision bothering him?
They had filled two garbage bags with junk mail, which Vicky carried downstairs to the garbage pails. But the living room floor still looked as if a hurricane had struck, leaving paper and debris in its wake.
“I’ve had enough of this for today,” he said. “It will take several days for me to answer these or to decide if I want to answer them. I guess I’ll have to buy, or rent, a laptop computer and a printer.”
“You surely don’t intend to leave the room in this condition,” Grace said, her eyebrows lifting dramatically.
“Yes, I do. I’m not expecting company except the two of you, and since you’ve helped make this mess, no need to hide it from you. I’m hungry. Let’s order a pizza.”
“Humph.” She threw her hands wide in dismay, “Well, you’re paying rent on the apartment. You don’t need to order any pizza for me. I’ll go downstairs and eat my dinner.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” Chad said. “I insist that you eat with us—that is, if you like pizza.”
Vicky assumed that Grace had realized that she and Chad weren’t romantically involved or she wouldn’t suggest leaving them alone in the apartment.
“I do like pizza, and I’ll eat with you, but I want to contribute my bit to the meal. I just happened to make an apple pie this morning. We can have that for dessert.”
“Then I’ll order pizza and salads.”
Vicky looked into the kitchen. “I see you have a coffeemaker. I’ll make a pot of coffee to eat with the pie.”
Grace was back with the pie by the time the pizza and salad was delivered. They gathered around the kitchen table and Chad prayed a blessing over their food. Everything seemed cozy—like home. As Grace and Vicky discussed news of Columbus, Chad realized why he felt so comfortable. Neither of the women seemed to be treating him differently because he was injured. And that was one reason he didn’t want to be around others—even his parents. He couldn’t stand to have people feeling sorry for him. Was that why he was shutting everyone out? He had never been ill—never had been in a situation where he was an object of pity.
Even if he had analyzed his hang-ups about his injury, he still wasn’t ready to become a public figure again. It was ten o’clock by the time they finished eating and had put away the dinner dishes. Grace wrapped the leftover pizza in aluminum foil and put a plastic cover over the pie.
“I’ll leave this for you for tomorrow,” she said. “I’m going home now. I don’t keep late hours like you young people. Just give me a call when I can help again. It’s kinda nice to have young people in the house. My daughter hasn’t lived at home since she graduated from OSU. She married and moved to Texas. I only see her once or twice a year.”
She left the room and closed the hall door behind her, so Vicky knew that she and Chad had passed muster with his landlady. Chad dropped his super genial air almost as soon as Grace left the room. He motioned Vicky to the couch and he sat in the lounge chair and pulled the lever to lift his feet. He looked tired and he made no effort to hide it from her.
“Grace turned out to be a very nice person after all.”
Chad nodded. “For several hours, I forgot that my life had changed at all. You and Grace are good for me. I’m healing, but I’m not ready yet to see many people. Could you suggest a place where I could be alone for a couple of weeks? Maybe a state park where I could camp and no one would know me?”
“We have several nice parks not far from Columbus. But you’ve been in the news a lot the past month. Your picture, as well as clips from your football games, have been on local TV. If you want to avoid people, you may need to conceal your real name.”
“You’re probably right.” He motioned to his mail. “Some of those letters are from people who want to make a movie about my life or publish a biography. Several are job offers. And a manufacturer of football equipment wants me to sponsor their products. I had supposed that I would be a ‘has-been,’ but it looks as if my injury has made me a hero. I don’t know how to deal with it. Does it seem odd that I want to be alone?”
“Not to me, it doesn’t. I have to work tomorrow, but let’s plan to check out some of the recreation areas and parks nearby on Sunday afternoon.”
“That suits me.”
“Will you go to church with me Sunday morning?” She asked hesitantly.
He paused for several minutes before responding, “Yes, I will.”
“If you’re willing to face a congregation of believers, you’ve passed your first hurdle,” she assured him with a tremulous smile.
Chad drove Vicky home and walked up the steps with her. At her apartment door, he said, “What time should I pick you up Sunday?”
“If we go to the early service, it won’t be so crowded. Pick me up at nine o’clock so we can make the 9:30 service.”
He bent forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Thanks for today.”
Chad thought he would be ready for sleep after such a strenuous day and he went to bed as soon as he returned to the apartment. But he couldn’t fall asleep, and after an hour of turning from one side to the other, he sat up in bed and piled pillows behind his back. He turned on the television, but none of the shows interested him. He was tempted to call Lorene and Perry. With the three-hour time difference, they wouldn’t be in bed yet. He should at least check to see if Perry was still doing all right, but until he could regain some semblance of his “old” self, he didn’t want to talk to them.
He heard an occasional car travel along Neil Avenue, and he got out of bed and walked to the double windows that commanded a view of the street. Through the leafless maple trees in front of the house, he saw pedestrians as well as automobiles. A couple strolled along the sidewalk, walking several small dogs on leashes. He got dressed, put on his running shoes, went down the steps and walked until he was physically spent.
He fell across the bed without undressing again and slept until daylight.
One corner of Chad’s mouth lifted in a smile when she got into the car on Sunday morning, but Vicky noticed that his expression was tight with strain. Was it caused by pain or emotional stress?
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, hoping to dispel some of the gloom that seemed to hover around him.
“It is a good morning,” he agreed, “but I haven’t slept much the last two nights and I’m feeling sluggish. I’ll get over it. How far is your church?”
“About a twenty-minute drive. When I was a teenager, my family went to a smaller church when we lived in the country. We started going to a mega church when we moved into the suburbs.”
Accustomed to a small church building, Chad was amazed at the size of the church complex that must have covered ten acres of ground.
“There’s a school, too, so they need a large plot of land,” Vicky explained as she directed him to a convenient parking space.
Sensing Chad’s need for privacy, she had intentionally arrived a few minutes late for the service. They entered the large auditorium through a side entrance into a small alcove during the opening hymn. They could easily see the preacher and th
e choir but were hidden from most of the congregation.
Chad sang a pleasing baritone, which he thought complemented Vicky’s strong alto voice. Their voices blended harmoniously as they held the same hymnal. The warmth of Vicky’s fingers helped ease his tension when they occasionally touched his hand. In spite of his uncertain future, he was glad to be in church again. Because of his varied NFL schedule, he hadn’t joined a church fellowship in Pittsburgh, and his church attendance had been sporadic. Although this was a huge organization compared to his church in Alabama, he felt at ease.
Dressed in a suit, instead of a robe, the minister took his place behind the lectern. After greeting the worshippers, he read his text from the book of Proverbs. “If you falter in times of trouble, how small is your strength.”
Chad felt as if his spirit had been stabbed with a knife. If he didn’t know it was impossible, he could easily believe that the preacher had known he would be in the congregation and that he’d prepared the sermon especially for him. The preacher hadn’t known, but God knew he would be there, and Chad listened intently.
The sermon focused on the life of Job and the many troubles he had endured. During the loss of his family, his wealth and his health, Job’s faith had remained strong. In the midst of his trials, the ancient patriarch had been able to say, “But He knows the way that I take. When He has tested me, I will come forth as gold.”
Was God testing him? Compared to what Job had faced, Chad’s troubles were minimal. Then why couldn’t he be man enough to stand up to his difficulties with the kind of faith that Job had exemplified? The minister closed his message with another challenging verse from the Bible, “We walk by faith not by sight.”
Was his faith small? He was worrying about what to do with the future. He was struggling over forgiving his parents. No wonder the minister’s closing verse from the New Testament seared his conscience and his heart.
They left the church through the entrance that led to the parking lot and Vicky thought she had been successful in avoiding anyone who might want to detain Chad. She groaned inwardly when she saw her parents bearing down on them. They didn’t know that she had been helping Chad.
