Tuesday Morning Collection, The: One Tuesday Morning, Beyond Tuesday Morning, Remember Tuesday Morning

by Kingsbury, Karen

  It was too much for Jamie. She glanced at her knee and felt her breath catch in her throat. It was one thing for them to be together when they worked at St. Paul's or when they ate together at Battery Park. But here? With Sierra swimming nearby?

  She stood up and collected her purse. “Want something to drink?”

  Aaron lowered his brow. “Weren't we talking?”

  “Yes, but …” She massaged her throat. “The chlorine in here. I'm dying of thirst.”

  “Okay.” He made a sound that was almost a chuckle. “Get me a Coke, if you don't mind.”

  Jamie felt anger bubble its way through her veins as she walked away. She did mind, in fact. She minded that she wasn't in the pool with her daughter, and that Aaron wanted a relationship with her. And most of all she minded that Jake had died in the first place. He should be here now, splashing and swimming with Sierra, picking the little girl up and tossing her into the water until she couldn't breathe from laughing so hard.

  She minded all of it.

  After she paid for the drinks, she stepped into an alcove, where she could see Sierra through a long window. God … what am I doing here with Aaron? I'm not ready for this, I'm not.

  Daughter, be still.

  The holy whispers skimmed across the rough waters of her soul, calming the wind and whitecaps, giving her a moment of peace. Thank You, God … even now You're here. She leaned against the glass. I'm so confused.

  I'm here. Be still and wait for Me.

  Be still and wait? Jamie took a step back. Where had she heard that before? It was a Scripture, wasn't it? Something Jake had written about in his journal. The journal she'd read a hundred times. Be still and wait on the Lord. Yes, that was it. Be still and wait. Being still was something Jamie was never good at. Oh, she'd gotten better. Losing Jake had done that for her.

  But times like this, she was glad for God's reminders.

  Ever since the fateful lunch with Aaron, she'd been going a hundred miles an hour, running from the future the same way she used to run from God. Be still and wait? It was exactly what she needed to hear, what she needed to do.

  She folded her arms against her waist and stared at her shoes. Her heart was still racing, still screaming at her to run or tell Aaron the truth—that she simply couldn't make herself feel something that wasn't there yet.

  Calm, Jamie … be calm. God knows what you need. Bit by bit she felt the waves grow still, felt order restored to her soul. Her heartbeat slowed and she breathed in long and steady. Everything was going to be okay. Somehow the pieces of her future would come together, and the process would be easier if she didn't fight it. If she was still and waited on God.

  She'd been gone almost ten minutes, and Aaron was bound to wonder about her. Holding tight to the direction God had given her, she rounded the corner and found a smile. Aaron was watching for her as she walked up.

  “Long line?”

  Lying would be the easy way out. She shook her head. “Not really.” One of the drinks in her hands was his, and she handed it to him. Then she took the spot beside him on the bleachers and looked for Sierra.

  “She's over there.” Aaron pointed to the shallow end where a group of girls Sierra's age were playing a game.

  “Thanks.” She glanced at Sierra and saw her stand on the side of the pool, her legs long and skinny. One of the girls in the pool motioned for her to jump, but she looked for Jamie first. Their eyes met, and Jamie waved, just as Sierra did a cannonball into the water and came up laughing.

  Jamie set her drink down. “Aaron …”

  “Uh-oh.” His smile didn't hide the regret in his voice. “Here it comes. The part where you tell me you've thought it over and you only want to be friends, right?”

  She was about to explain herself but he kept on.

  “Look, Jamie.” As a fire captain for the FDNY, Aaron had to be one of the toughest leaders in the department. And, from everything Jake had ever said about him, he was. But now his eyes were kinder than she'd ever seen them. “I never meant to pressure you. It's just …” He lifted his hands and let them fall again. “I guess I never would've known if I hadn't said something.”

  The awkwardness from earlier that morning seemed ridiculous now. Her sudden fear of him was a slip back to the old Jamie—who was so often motivated by a paralyzing fear. The new Jamie, who believed in God's plan for her life, hadn't had to deal with fear in nearly three years.

  Until Aaron told her he had feelings for her.

  “You're not saying anything.” Aaron cocked his head. “I can take a lot, Jamie. But I can't take losing your friendship.” He reached for her hand, squeezed it once, and let go. “Okay, say something.”

  “I will.” Her heart swelled with feelings—care or concern or friendship. Or something more, Jamie wasn't sure. “You're right, I have thought it over. But I'm not sure I want only a friendship, Aaron. I don't know what I want. I feel crazy saying it's too soon.” She allowed a sad laugh. “Three years is a long time, I know that. But in here—” her hand rested on the place above her heart—“I'm not ready to love someone else. At least, I don't think I am.”

  Aaron sucked in his cheek and narrowed his eyes. He watched Sierra for a minute, splashing near one of the pool's smaller slides. “So … you haven't completely written off the idea?”

  “No.” This time Jamie gave him a sideways hug. The sensation wasn't strange or awkward. In fact, it felt nice. Safe and warm, if not quite electric. She kept her fingers cupped around his shoulder and waited until he looked at her before letting go. “I care a lot about you, Aaron. I love having you there, talking with you—” she gestured toward the pool—“being together on days like this. It feels right, it feels like it could be more serious one day.”

  Aaron slid closer to her so that their arms were touching. “That's more than enough for me.” He looked at Sierra again, and the hint of a smile played in his voice.

  Now that the awkward feeling was gone, Jamie realized something. She wasn't only enjoying his company, she was enjoying the feel of his body against her arm.

  A handful of emotions raced around in Jamie's heart. How terrible she was to enjoy the physical contact of a man who had been Jake's boss, his mentor; how awful that she could ever find another man's company, his presence, enjoyable. And the most dominant emotion—how good she felt, now that they'd talked things out, with him at her side.

  She ignored the pangs of guilt and leaned into him for a few seconds. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “I know you, Jamie.” He glanced at her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then, just as quickly, he straightened and shot another look at Sierra. “I knew you'd need time. I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

  She remembered Sue's warning, that Aaron could never be right for her as long as he didn't share her faith. Never mind his age or the fact that he'd been Jake's boss. If he didn't believe in Christ the way she did, what depth could they ever share together?

  This would be the time to say something about it, to ask if he would ever be interested in learning more about God, maybe going to church with her. But somehow the subject didn't seem to fit. Besides, Jake had never pushed her toward God. He'd lived out his faith every day of his life. Maybe it was her turn to do that where Aaron was concerned.

  She remembered the holy whispers in her heart a few minutes earlier. God wanted her to be still and wait. Didn't that mean waiting before making faith an issue with Aaron? Besides, she didn't want to upset him, didn't want him to slide back down the bench from her.

  “I like this. Sitting with you like this.”

  “Me too.” He gave her an understanding smile. “As long as we don't think about getting serious just yet, right?”

  “Right.”

  In the distance, Sierra climbed out of the pool and grabbed her towel. It was clear by her actions she was about to run toward them—probably needing something to eat or drink. Panic shot through Jamie. It was one thing to sit this way when Sierra wasn't
looking, when she was too far away to make out exactly how close Jamie was sitting next to Aaron. But to have her daughter run up and see them … that was more than Jamie was ready for.

  She nodded in Sierra's direction. “I think I'll get her a drink. Want anything else?”

  “I'm fine.” The look in Aaron's eyes told her he understood, and better still, he was at peace with her actions.

  Before she turned and went to meet Sierra, she smiled once more at him. “Thanks, Aaron. I … I feel so much better about things.”

  “Me too.”

  The awkwardness and angst and even the guilt lifted as Jamie walked away. Her steps were lighter than they'd been in a long time. And throughout lunch, only one thought about Aaron remained.

  How kind and understanding he'd been through this new phase in their friendship, and how maybe—one day not too far off—his kindness might open doors to a place she would never before have considered.

  EIGHT

  The angry butterflies were back. Sierra was dressed for bed and heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth, but all she could think about was the talk. This was the night she was going to talk to Mommy about the thing Katy said, the thing about their daddies and the helmets.

  “Sierra, are you in your nightgown?” Mommy was in her room folding some towels.

  “Yes.” Sierra did a gulp.

  “Did you brush your teeth?”

  “That's what I'm doing right now.”

  “Okay, sweetie, I'll be there in a minute to pray with you.” Mommy's voice was happy, the way it sounded ever since the swimming at Chelsea Piers.

  Why was she so happy? Was it because of a fun day out with Sierra? Or was it Captain Hisel? Captain Hisel was nice, but Sierra wasn't sure. He wasn't like her daddy at all, and that's another reason why the angry butterflies were in her tummy.

  A boy named James in her class at school lost his firefighter daddy. And last summer his mommy got married again, so now James had a new daddy. No, not a new daddy, but a second daddy.

  Sierra walked into the bathroom and made a face at the mirror. She didn't want a new daddy. But sometimes she looked at James and thought how lucky he was because now he had a second daddy. And that wouldn't be so bad, but not Captain Hisel. He was old and he didn't talk to her or play with her the way a second daddy should.

  “Ready, honey?” More happy voice.

  Sierra jumped. “Almost.” She took the cap off the toothpaste and set it careful on the counter. Sometimes if she wasn't careful the cap rolled onto the floor and once when that happened she couldn't find it again. Then she squeezed out a pea-sized spot on her pink Barbie toothbrush, because before she used to put a whole caterpillar size on but then it would grow inside her mouth and come out the sides. When that happened it usually got on her nightgown, so Mommy said use a pea size.

  Thinking about her teeth made her tummy feel a little better. Her toothbrush was the best kind. It had a little motor on it. She put the bristly end in her mouth and pushed the white button. The toothbrush wiggled and jiggled and cleaned every tooth sparkly clean. Sierra spit out the old toothpaste and rinsed out her brush.

  She was just looking for one of her dinosaur flossers when Mommy walked in and leaned by the door. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Sierra didn't look up. She found a new flosser, opened it up, and pushed it between her teeth. That way she didn't have to start having the talk with Mommy just yet.

  When she was finished, she put everything away, and dried the wet spots off her face. “Okay. I'm ready.”

  “Well.” Her mommy lifted her eyebrows high and looked at the sink area. “That's the neatest teeth-brushing job I've ever seen.”

  “Thank you.” Sierra stood perfectly still, feet together, and waited. “Can we go to my room now?”

  “Sure.” A strange look was in her mommy's eyes. “Everything okay, honey?”

  “Yes.” Her tummy did a drop. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. She followed her mommy across the hall and into her own pink bedroom. Then she flopped up on her ruffly bed and let her feet hang over the edge. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” Her mommy still sounded happy, even though she looked curious. She sat on the bed too, up near the pillows. She pulled her feet up and hugged her legs. “What's up?”

  Sierra turned so she could see her mommy better. “Katy said something weird when we were at her house.”

  Right away Mommy got a funny look on her face. “Something weird?”

  “Mmhmm.” She nodded. “She told me how come my daddy didn't die in the Twin Towers if he was with her daddy.”

  Her mommy's mouth opened, but no words came out. Also her face looked a little whitish. Finally she said, “Well, Sierra, that's a good question.”

  Good question was what Mommy said when she didn't want to give an answer. At least not a quick answer. Sierra made sure her tone was nice. “So what's the answer?”

  “That was a very hard time for everyone, honey. Nothing that happened was easy to understand.” Her mommy leaned her head back for a minute. When she looked at Sierra again, her eyes were wet. “God knows exactly when each person will come home to heaven. I guess that's my best answer.”

  Sierra tapped her fingers on her leg. Her mommy's words still didn't feel like an answer, really. “So that's why he didn't die when Katy's daddy died?”

  “Sierra, why did Katy start talking about that? What brought it up?”

  “The helmets.”

  This time Mommy looked sickish around her eyes. Her voice got quiet and shocked. “The helmets?”

  Her daddy's fire helmet sat on her dresser. It was cleaned off because it got dirty in the fire where Daddy died. It sat right next to the picture of her and Daddy from one of the days after he came home from the hospital. He had bandages on his head, and crutches. The picture was special, just like every picture Sierra had of her daddy. But the helmet was the most specialest thing Sierra owned. Katy had one too.

  “That.” Sierra pointed to the helmet. “Katy has one on her dresser too.”

  “Yes.” Her mommy made a coughing sound. “That's because Katy's mommy felt the same way I do. That you girls should have the helmets that belonged to your daddies.”

  “That's not what I mean.” Sierra shook her head. Her stomach still hurt a little but she was getting frustration inside her. “Katy says they found their helmets at the same time. When they were cleaning up the Twin Towers.”

  Her mother looked at her and blinked. Then she leaned close and hugged her for a very long time. When she pulled back, her eyes said very certain that their talk was over. “Sierra, it's too late for this tonight.” She kissed her and gave her butterfly kisses, the way Daddy used to do it. “Let's talk about it tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow's Halloween. And it's Sunday. I'll see Katy at Sunday school and then what if she says that thing again? What am I supposed to say?”

  Her mommy looked down and said the quiet words, “Help me, God,” which Sierra did not understand. Why did her mother need God's help to answer one easy question? Next her mommy looked up and said, “Let's have church at the beach tomorrow, Sierra.”

  “At the beach?”

  “Yes.” Her mommy's chin was shaking a little bit. “You and me by ourselves. We'll go to the same beach where Daddy and I used to take you jet skiing, okay?”

  “Won't it be too cold?”

  “Probably.” Mommy did a sort-of smile. “We'll wear our sweaters and bring chairs to sit in. Then we can read from the Bible and pray and have a little talk.”

  “About the helmets?” Sierra wasn't sure she could wait that long, plus she wanted to tell Katy she was wrong. It wasn't weird at all. But the part about the helmets still didn't make sense.

  “Yes, about the helmets.”

  “And then go to Katy's dress-up party for dinner?”

  “Yes, that too.”

  A good feeling came into Sierra's tummy, then. Because even though she had to wait, at least she would kno
w the answer. She wouldn't have any more questions about her daddy or why he didn't die in the Twin Towers or how come Katy said they found his helmet next to her daddy's helmet.

  After tomorrow, everything would make sense.

  Jamie barely closed the door and made it to her bed before she collapsed to her knees. “God!” The sound was a whisper soaked with anguish and fear and desperation. “I'm not ready for this.”

  This time there were no holy messages, no still, small voice assuring her that God was there, standing ready.

  Always she had known it would come to this, that someday she would have to explain to Sierra how her father had actually been killed in the terrorist attacks. But now it seemed impossible to say the words, impossible to explain that the man she'd brought orange juice to, the man she'd sat with and sang with and read stories with for three months while he got better, hadn't been her father but a stranger.

  In the years since then, Jamie had always figured she'd know when the time was right. But that wasn't really what she'd counted on. The truth was, she hoped she wouldn't have to tell Sierra until she was a teenager, eighteen maybe. That way her daughter wouldn't remember anything but a blur of hazy images from the time in her life when Eric Michaels lived with them.

  But now? When she still had the picture of the man on her dresser?

  She'd probably looked at it a thousand times in the last three years, and now, tomorrow on the beach, she would have to tell Sierra that the man in the picture wasn't her daddy.

  I don't want to tell her, God … She hung her head. What's wrong with me? I should've said something a long time ago.

  Her knees hurt. She struggled to her feet and fell onto her bed. Her own questions echoed in her heart until an answer started to form. She didn't want to tell Sierra because a part of her still wanted to believe it herself. That was the problem, wasn't it? Those were the three most difficult months of her life, and having Eric Michaels, believing he was Jake, was the only reason she'd survived.

  God knew she would've crumbled much like the towers if she'd learned that week that Jake was one of the dead. So instead he brought her a substitute. A Jake look-alike.