Brad rubbed his chin and shook his head. “I never for one minute intended to cause her pain.”
“She knows that, and so do I.”
“Please call me Brad,” he urged. “I guess I knew that CJ’s father was killed in the crash but, until she mentioned it, I didn’t remember that she’d lost her mother, as well.”
“That’s not the half of it,” Cheryl admitted. “CJ, herself, was on that flight. They were coming back from an air show in the Midwest.”
Brad’s head snapped up and met Cheryl’s worried expression. “She was on the plane when it went down? I’ve seen pictures of the wreckage. How could anyone have lived through that?”
“She was the sole survivor,” Cheryl replied. “She was conscious the whole time and pinned in the wreckage for hours. They eventually had to cut her out in order to take her to the hospital. She very nearly lost her leg, but they managed to piece it back together after several sur-geries. Then, years of rehab followed in order to get her walking again.”
“No wonder she never learned to dance,” Brad muttered.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing,” Brad said, meeting Cheryl’s eyes. “Go on. What else happened to her?”
Cheryl seemed to relax. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever seen anyone bear. A shattered leg, multiple injuries, and the realization that both of her parents were dead. She couldn’t deal with the knowledge that she’d been left behind. She hated the fact that she was still alive.
“Then the reporters and FAA people came. They drilled her for information and hounded her relentlessly until her brother, Curt, arrived and drove them off. CJ wouldn’t speak to anyone, not even me. That went on for several weeks, and the doctors began to worry that maybe she couldn’t talk. They thought perhaps it was hysterical laryngitis or something like that. Then one day, CJ announced to them all that she’d simply had enough and wanted to be moved from the hospital immediately. Curt arranged for her to convalesce at home, and that was that.”
“She never told me,” Brad said softly.
“No,” Cheryl admitted, “she wouldn’t. That would require facing the problem, and CJ hasn’t begun to do that. It’s something that has worried me greatly over the years. In fact, I have to confess that I spent a lot of time abroad because I couldn’t handle the situation here at home. It came between us in a big way because I wanted to force her to deal with it, and CJ absolutely refused to consider the matter at all.”
“But she’ll never be free of it if she doesn’t try.”
“I’m not sure she wants to be free of it, Brad. Although she can’t face her memories, they are, as far as CJ is concerned, all she has left. She has a storage unit filled with memorabilia and family mementos. Curt and I tried on several occasions to get her to bring the stuff home or get rid of it, and CJ acted like we were both off our rockers. Curt finally gave up and moved off, and I guess in my own way, I gave up, too.”
“But all we did was visit an airstrip. It wasn’t even a place she’d ever been with her parents. It’s a relatively new area—”
“But don’t you see?” Cheryl interrupted. “It doesn’t matter! She can’t even fly on a commercial airliner. CJ turns the TV off if there’s an advertisement for flying. She won’t visit a travel agency or go to movies or the mall—all because she’s afraid she might have to encounter something to do with flight.”
“But she’s a grown woman. Surely she sees the need of getting past this thing. There are counselors who could help her,” Brad protested.
“You have to want to be helped, Brad, and CJ doesn’t want to be helped.”
“Maybe I can help her,” Brad said with a new resolve. He was beginning to formulate an idea in his mind.
“Would you risk being responsible for sending her into complete seclusion?”
Brad’s shoulders slumped. “What do you suggest? I can’t just leave her alone.”
“Just be yourself. Show her that you care, in spite of her trauma, and let nature take its course.”
“Cheryl,” he paused, “may I call you that?” She nodded and he continued. “I don’t mean to seem harsh, but isn’t this style of ignoring the problem the same thing that everyone else has already tried? It obviously isn’t working.”
“No, it isn’t working.” Cheryl’s voice betrayed her anguish.
“Then doesn’t it stand to reason that someone has to make her face up to the problem?”
“I don’t know,” Cheryl answered honestly.
“Look, I have a friend at church who happens to be a counselor. Maybe he’ll have some ideas.” Brad got to his feet. “I really appreciate your taking the time to explain this to me. I know God can get CJ through this.”
Cheryl shrugged. “He doesn’t appear to be too concerned at this point.”
Brad turned in surprise, but said nothing. One problem at a time, he told himself. One problem at a time.
CJ had no intention of falling asleep. She hated to sleep because when she did, the old dream came back to haunt her. Always, she was falling. Falling and falling, as though it would never end. It was always the same. Always the crash. But, to her surprise, when she awoke two hours later, she felt much better. She hadn’t dreamed the dream. Instead, she had the vaguely familiar sensation of being held in warm, masculine arms.
All at once she remembered Brad. No doubt he’d be long gone after having to face two episodes of her inability to cope with the past.
Getting out of bed, CJ walked calmly into the living room and confronted her friend.
“How did it go?”
Cheryl looked up from the list of wedding guests and eyed CJ suspiciously. “Are you sure you ought to be out of bed? Brad said you had a very nasty spell.”
“I did,” CJ conceded. “But I’m better now, and I need to get home. Did you talk to Brad? Did you tell him everything?”
“Yeah, he was really worried about you. I don’t think you’ve heard the last from him.”
“Well, I’d be surprised to learn that he wanted to go another round with me,” CJ replied, searching the room with her gaze. “Do you know where my purse is?”
“No. I didn’t see that you had it when Brad brought you in. Do you suppose it’s still in his car?”
“That’d be just my luck,” CJ replied. “Oh well, I’m not going to worry about it. There wasn’t much of anything in it, and my license is in the car. I guess I’ll manage.”
“But what about the car keys?” Cheryl asked, getting up to walk CJ to the door.
“I used the valet parking,” CJ answered. “They have my keys.”
Cheryl nodded, then reached out to touch CJ’s arm. “Are you sure you can drive home?”
“Stop worrying, Cheryl. It’s a car, not an airplane.”
five
Brad’s interest in helping CJ didn’t wane with the consideration that he was really getting into something about which he knew little. He prayed in detail for the wisdom to deal with the matter and asked God over and over to show him what direction to take in order to be a help and not a hindrance.
He called Cheryl the very next day to inquire about CJ’s recovery.
“She was fine, Brad. Drove herself home and everything,” Cheryl answered in a distracted voice.
“I want her address,” Brad suddenly said. “I checked with direc-tory assistance for a phone number, but it’s unlisted. Can you help me?”
“It wouldn’t be right to give it to you without CJ’s permission.”
“Look, I promise I won’t go over there; I just want to send her some flowers, maybe a letter or card. Please, Cheryl.”
Cheryl felt torn. The man obviously cared, and it wasn’t like he was some kook off the streets. Her loyalty to CJ was fierce, however, and won out. “I can’t.”
Brad’s exasperated sigh filled the receiver. “I know she’ll never call me.”
“She will if she wants her purse back,” Cheryl said, still wondering how she could help Brad without betraying CJ.
/>
“What?”
“CJ thinks she left her purse in your Jeep.”
“I didn’t see it anywhere,” Brad said. He tried to remember what CJ had done with it when she got in the car.
“All I know is, when she got ready to leave here yesterday, she told me she’d probably left her purse in your Jeep.”
Brad smiled for the first time that day. “I’ll find it, Cheryl, and I’ll see to it that it makes its way home.”
“Brad, please be careful. CJ is precious to me, and I won’t stand by and see her needlessly hurt.”
“I won’t hurt her,” Brad promised. “At least not the way you’re im-plying. I want to see her beat this phobia of hers. I want to get to know the real woman inside and clear out that scared, sixteen-year-old girl. It might be a bit painful, but in the long run, CJ will be better off for it.
“Look, I’ll send a bonded courier over with her purse and I’ll attach a letter to it. Is that acceptable?”
“Of course. I guess it’s perfectly logical that you were bound to find the purse sooner or later. I just don’t want CJ thinking that I betrayed her.”
“She’ll never know that you even mentioned it,” Brad assured. “You have my number, so don’t hesitate to call me if I can be of help.”
Over the next few days, Brad tried to get some kind of response from CJ. He had the courier require a signed receipt for the purse and letter—and the receipt was returned to him the same day—but there had been no other response.
Then he went to work trying to woo her with gifts. He’d sent flowers, balloons, stuffed animals, and candy, but they were consistently refused and returned with the delivery man back to the shop of origin. Next, he tried overnighting and same-day-delivering letters and cards, still without a single response or acknowledgment. At least they weren’t refused. Finally, Brad decided enough was enough. Picking up the phone, he dialed his friend, Roger Prescott.
CJ nervously paced her apartment. Why wouldn’t Brad just leave her alone? She’d refused his gifts and the stack of unopened letters sat on the entryway table as evidence that she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what he had to say to her. But she was. At least a hundred times a day, she had to force herself not to open the envelopes.
He’ll either feel one way or the other, CJ told herself. Either he’ll want to draw me out of my shell or he’ll want to pursue a relationship in spite of it. Neither one seemed acceptable.
“I’ve tried to be a good person,” CJ reasoned aloud. Since her parents’ deaths, she had convinced herself that accepting Christ as her Savior was simply not enough. She had deemed it necessary to be as perfect as she could in order to go to heaven. But in this situation with Brad, she felt she was failing miserably. She wasn’t being good to Brad. She wasn’t even being kind.
When the doorbell rang, CJ was certain it would be yet another of Brad’s deliveries. She glanced down at her striped top and navy shorts with indifference as she opened the door to her apartment.
CJ’s eyes widened at the sight of Brad Aldersson on her doorstep. “Brad!” she exclaimed and stepped back a bit. “What are you doing here?”
“You wouldn’t call me,” he offered to begin with, “and I was worried. I brought a friend with me, and I thought you might like to talk to him, since you don’t seem inclined to talk to me.”
CJ shook her head. “I don’t need to talk to anyone.”
“CJ, please just listen to me for a minute,” Brad pleaded. “I know the letters may have sounded a bit forward—”
“I never read them,” CJ interjected. Brad’s eyes registered disappointment, but he refused to give into it.
“Then I guess I really need to start from scratch,” he continued. “My friend is a Christian counselor from my church. Roger, this is CJ O’Sullivan. CJ, this is Roger Prescott.”
CJ only stared at the man’s extended hand.
“I’m glad to meet you, CJ. Brad tells me that you’re a sister in the Lord.”
CJ didn’t dare be rude with a man of God. “Yes,” she finally answered and reached out to shake Roger’s hand. She glanced hesitantly at Brad and then again to Roger. “Won’t you come in?”
“Are you certain that you want us to?” Roger asked. “We aren’t about to barge in, if you’d rather we leave.”
“No, it’s all right. I don’t know for sure what Brad hopes to accomplish here, but I won’t be inhospitable.”
“May I call you CJ?” Roger asked informally.
“I suppose so,” CJ replied in an agitated manner. “Won’t you sit down?”
Roger shook his head and turned instead to Brad. “Brad, I know that you want to help CJ, but if it’s all right with her, I ’d like to talk to CJ alone.”
Brad looked stunned but nodded his cooperation. He turned to meet CJ’s eyes. “I would like to call you sometime,” Brad said softly as he turned to leave.
CJ hated the pained expression on his face. She knew she’d caused it with her cold-shouldered attitude. “Do you have the number?” she asked.
“No.”
“I won’t promise anything,” CJ announced. She jotted down her number and handed it to Brad. “But you have my permission to call.”
six
CJ listened in awkward silence as Roger Prescott explained the role he would like to have in CJ’s life.
“I know this is all very strained, and I must admit I don’t usually make this kind of house call—”
“But Brad was no doubt very persistent,” CJ interjected.
Roger smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he was.”
“He can be like that, at least from what I’ve seen.”
“He just cares, CJ. I’m convinced that he’s genuinely concerned for your welfare and that he has a deep desire to get to know you better.”
“I understand that,” CJ said firmly. “What I don’t understand is why he feels he has to fix me. I’m just fine.”
“You know, CJ,” Roger began, “many times people find that they can’t deal with things from their past. The mind shuts out the horrific. Psychologists once tested people by showing them pictures of Nazi concentration camps. The photos explicitly revealed hundreds of the innocent dead. After viewing the pictures, people were asked to write down one thing they remembered in particular. More often than not, what those people wrote had nothing to do with the atrocities they’d witnessed in those pictures.
“Usually,” Roger continued with a soft expression of compassion, “people noted some unusual thing that had nothing to do with the death and destruction. Some noted the existence of words or markings on the buildings. One photo prompted a common response from people as they noted a child’s single shoe lying in the mud. They couldn’t handle the scene of the dead child in his mother’s arms, right beside that shoe. Their mind picked out something neutral and re-fused the rest.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” CJ replied defensively.
“When faced with monumental ordeals in which the mind finds itself having to register unpleasantries or even horrifying situations, we do what we must to protect ourselves. In your case, if I understand correctly, you had to endure a tragic plane crash. The crash resulted in the deaths of your parents and injury to yourself. Now, you find that even the association of things related to flight and the lifestyle you knew before the accident are unbearable. Is that a fair assessment?”
“It hurts too much.”
Roger nodded. “Yes, I know. But, CJ, if you don’t deal with this now, it will continue to hurt you over and over again. You must realize that burying your pain and suffering over all these years has resulted in a deep-rooted fear.”
“I’m getting by,” CJ replied and hugged her arms to her chest.
“Getting by isn’t always enough. Is that all you want for your life?”
CJ looked up at the ceiling, refusing to meet his eyes. “It’s not a matter of what I want,” she whispered. “It’s all I can handle.”
�
�I’d like to help you handle it in another way,” Roger said evenly. “Brad would like to help, too. You know, he thinks quite highly of you.”
“No, he thinks highly of Doug O’Sullivan, my father,” CJ said, snapping her head back down. “I’m just the left-behind daughter of Brad’s hero.”
“Brad came and talked to me extensively,” Roger contin- ued. “At first, I point-blank refused to become involved. Like I told Brad, a person has to want to be helped. Otherwise, it isn’t help—it’s interference—and accomplishes absolutely nothing. Sometimes it hurts the person even more.”
He paused and looked at CJ sympathetically. “However, I’ve known Brad for a long time, and the more he talked, the more I could see the genuine concern and respect he held for you. CJ, he never once mentioned your father, except to say that you two were very close and that he’d died in the crash.”
CJ got to her feet, unable to sit still any longer. She paced out a few steps in front of Roger and turned. “I was left a small fortune,” she confided. “In fact, it wasn’t that small. My brother and I are well set financially and, unfortunately, this has made me a very popular woman. The first time any man learns of my true identity, he usually starts seeing dollar signs. Add to this my determination to do what is right in the eyes of the Lord and, all of a sudden, the simplest relationship becomes impossibly complicated.”
“And you think Brad is after your money and that his only other interest is a kind of far-off hero worship of your father?”
Again she paced. “I don’t know. I really don’t know!” Her auburn hair whirled around her face as she turned on her heel. “Why does he have to care so much? He doesn’t even know me. I threw up while he held me over the toilet. Then I broke down in complete hysteria when he tried to take me on a picnic. How can he possibly care whether I deal with this issue or not?”
“So you realize there is an issue to deal with?” Roger questioned gently.
A Wing And A Prayer: Truly Yours Digital Edition (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 4
