Everyday Blessings

by Jillian Hart

  Nothing had been right since he’d first spotted her. He couldn’t deny this, not even to himself. He went straight to the fridge and let the cool air wash over him as he debated the choices on his sparse shelves. Finally, he grabbed a bottle of sweetened iced tea, twisted the cap as he closed the fridge door, and took a long pull.

  The icy liquid cooled him from the inside out, but did it get rid of that unsettled, sore feeling in his chest? The one that had worsened after he’d told Aubrey about his wife?

  Of course not. Not even his strength of will had been able to get rid of that. He wasn’t sure what would.

  Why had he told her of his most private pain? Maybe he’d felt overwhelmed with Jonas’s wife’s sorrow and fears, because he knew exactly how she felt. He’d been there, too. Maybe he’d talked about it because the memories had been so near to the surface.

  Or, he wondered, was it because he knew it wasn’t likely that he’d be seeing her again? She’d been so kind and sincere the story had just tumbled out.

  It was too late to change any of it, so he had to stop working it over and over in his heart and in his head. He had to let this go. He headed for the built-in desk in the corner of the huge kitchen. The best course was not to think of it again—or the lovely Aubrey. Then the weight sitting in the chambers of his heart would fade.

  It was dark, so he flashed on the lamp on his desk in the corner. The fall of light illuminated a stack of unopened mail, bank statements, fat envelopes from his investment firm, colorful postcards and envelopes signifying junk mail, and his answering machine. There was no blinking light. Pretty typical. He didn’t get a lot of calls these days.

  Still, he’d hoped for good news from Aubrey.

  Aubrey. Just thinking of her made him remember standing in the hospital’s chapel and feeling shadows of the past that could not let him go—or that he could not let go of. He didn’t know which.

  He only wished things could go back to the way they were, where he was numb inside and content enough to be that way.

  In the quiet of Danielle’s house, with both kids finally asleep, Aubrey found herself on her hands and knees scrubbing the soap ring off the side of the kids’ bathtub. Did she know how to spend a Friday night or what? For an exciting follow-up, she planned on scrubbing the toothpaste gunk off the sink.

  She heard the click of the front-door key in the lock and the whisper of the door opening.

  Her twin, she guessed as she squirted more soap-grime-killer stuff onto the fiberglass. Whatever Madison’s bubble bath was made of, it left a stubborn rainbow-colored coating at the water line.

  Lucky me, she thought and kept scrubbing. At least she was able to concentrate on the soap ring and not William Corey. At least, that’s what she was struggling to do when she heard quiet, slow-moving footsteps padding down the hall—definitely not her twin after all. Then who?

  She pulled herself off the side of the tub and grimaced. Her muscles were all kinked up from the complicated twisting positions she’d been in so she wasn’t exactly moving fast by the time she poked her head out the door.

  Danielle’s bedroom door was open, light spilling into the hallway.

  It was probably Dorrie, come to get a fresh change of clothes for Danielle. She wasn’t supposed to be staying over in the room with Jonas, but Dani had vowed a class-five hurricane wasn’t going to move her from her husband’s side and the nurses didn’t have the heart to try.

  Aubrey peeled off the rubber gloves only to find her fingertips were all wrinkly. She hesitated outside the door. “I have clothes in the dryer— Oh, you’re not Dorrie.”

  “No.” Danielle stood in the middle of her room like a ghost, she was so weary. “Mom made me come home. She told me to get some sleep.”

  Okay, call her confused. Why had Danielle left her husband’s side? “Dorrie’s staying with Jonas?”

  Dani nodded vaguely and pushed open her closet door. “I’m going to hop into the shower. H-how are the kids? I’ve b-been a terrible mother.” She pressed her hands to her face, on the verge of tears.

  The toll this was taking on Dani wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair. She laid her hand on Dani’s bony shoulder. She’d lost so much weight—too much. “Why don’t I run a bath for you? You can sit and relax? I’ll bring up some munchies and some of that strawberry soda you love. I hid a can at the back of the refrigerator for an emergency like this one.”

  “You should go home. I should be taking care of my own kids. I just—oh, I can’t do everything and I’m too exhausted to even try.”

  “Then how about this? Grab your robe, and I’ll start the bathwater. Deal?”

  “You are a blessing to me, you know that?”

  “Impossible. You’re the blessing to me.” She headed toward the master bath. “Tell me you didn’t drive home this tired? You know drowsy driving is just as dangerous as being intoxicated—”

  Dani gasped. “What’s this? I don’t remember putting anything here?”

  Oh no. The anniversary gift. Aubrey mentally groaned. She’d forgotten it was hidden in the closet, and that was one more emotional hit Danielle might be too fragile to take. “Don’t worry about it. Just grab your robe.”

  Aubrey popped back into the room, but it was too late. Danielle was already kneeling down to read.

  “There’s a business card from William Corey. How strange is that? He was at the hospital. I had no idea Jonas had helped him when his wife had been in a coma.”

  “Spence knows William, too. Spence caught me looking at one of William’s books in the break room and had a major meltdown over the expensive book being near a large order of Mr. Paco’s nachos.”

  “Sounds like Spence.” Danielle’s eyes were already filling. “Is this a picture?”

  “William came by to leave that for Jonas. It’s an anniversary gift for you.”

  Tears brimmed Dani’s eyes but did not fall. Her jaw dropped as she let the realization settle in. “Jonas planned this. He…”

  She said nothing more, but the tears started to fall, soundlessly, one after another rolling down her face. “What was Jonas thinking? This can’t be an original. He knows we can’t afford something like that.”

  Aubrey didn’t know what the picture was, only that her sister was falling apart. She gently took the robe from the hanger. Her heart was breaking. True love, once found, should not be torn apart like this. “I imagine Jonas would think you were worth every penny that picture cost him.”

  Dani tugged at the string bow and drew the paper away from the simple black frame. Even in the shadows, the photograph glowed with light.

  Staring at the work, her hand to her heart, she thought she’d never seen anything so arresting.

  It was no ordinary snapshot. It lived. She felt overpowered by the emotional pull. It was a simple shot of a snow-covered evergreen bough, green needles fighting through the mantle of pristine snow. The bough reached upward, like an arm to the sky. A sky where thin, gold and peach rays of sun broke like hope through dismal storm clouds.

  The image settled in her heart and in her soul. And it tugged at her spirit like a little reminder of faith.

  William Corey, with his artist’s eye and poet’s soul had been able to capture, for a brief microsecond in time, the divine shining out of the ordinary.

  Whatever the man’s sorrows, he’d had a gift.

  “It’s my favorite work.” Dani swiped at her eyes. Her fingers came away wet. “It’s called Hebrews 11:1. Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. One of my favorite passages. And a good reminder.”

  “It’s lovely. Jonas went to a lot of trouble to get this for you.”

  “I see that. The doctors spoke to me about letting Jonas go. They say he’s probably not going to come back. They think he’s already gone. That’s why I came home. To think over what they said. To figure out what to do. Or at least be prepared if his coma worsens much more, for then there’ll be no hope at all.” Danielle stared at
the photograph, silent for a long time. “But this, it’s like a sign.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I came home too weary, I just am burned-out and worn-out and out of hope.” Dani rubbed her eyes again. “This was just the sign of faith I need to go on. When you talk to William Corey, tell him thank you for this. Tell him this has made all the difference.”

  Aubrey suspected he already knew.

  Chapter Five

  The ring of the phone echoed through the dark corners of the great room, shattering the tense stillness of the gathering thunderstorm. William squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of the black storm clouds closing over the sunset’s crimson glow remained, along with the desire to capture it on film. A desire he’d thought long gone.

  He knew why. Aubrey. For some reason, seeing her had started this. She’d thawed a frozen part of him just enough to feel. Or maybe he’d simply been ready. It had been over four years. They say time heals all things, even, he supposed, a loss so deep.

  The phone’s insistent ring continued. He checked the caller ID; it was her. His heart skipped from fear that she was calling with bad news—also an unease that she was calling at all. He’d said too much to her. He’d let the vulnerable truth spill out as if it was nothing, nothing at all. He’d opened himself up too much, and now there was no way to pull back his words. No way to hit Delete, rewind and try playing it differently. He would, if he could. So, why did his hand shoot out and grab the cordless handset?

  Because he couldn’t stand to sit in the growing darkness any longer. “Hello?”

  “William? I’m glad I caught you. This is Aubrey McKaslin.”

  Yeah, he knew. There was the image of her, graced by the light in the chapel, all purity and sweetness. He’d learned long ago that looks were deceiving, or at least that’s what he reminded himself of, so he wouldn’t start believing in anyone again. “Hi, Aubrey. How’s Jonas doing?”

  “He’s still in a coma and unresponsive. We’re not sure what’s going to happen next, though. We’re just trying to take it one step at a time.”

  “That’s a nice way of saying they don’t expect him to come out of the coma, right?”

  “No one wants to actually say that, but, yeah. The chances aren’t good.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut again. He knew what it was like to wait and wonder and pray against all odds.

  “William, I have to let you know. Danielle found the photograph you brought over the other night. It made a real difference for her. She said it gave her hope. We have you to thank for that.”

  “Not me.” No one seemed to understand that.

  “It was a good thing you did for Jonas. You have no idea what a difference you made.”

  “It was sitting in a closet, gathering dust.”

  The warmth in Aubrey’s voice told him she wouldn’t be fooled. “You did a lot of good for Danielle, and that’s making a lot of difference to my family, William. You did that, and I’m so grateful. I wanted you to know.”

  William watched the black turmoil of the storm clouds crush out the last spears of dying sunlight. He tried to do the same to Aubrey’s words. On one level, he’d had a lot of this over the years since he’d been a widower. Whether women meant well or not, too many of them had not been sincere. They’d thought he would be a financially advantageous man to marry.

  He knew in his gut that Aubrey meant what she said. Her family mattered to her, the way his once had to him. Maybe that’s why she’d seemed to inspire that innate, soul-deep need to pick up a camera again. He was able to see her heart, and it was not so different from his own.

  As for the work, what she didn’t know was what no one understood. The beauty he found with a lens didn’t come from him, but through him. All things good came from God. But it wasn’t a discussion he felt up for. He said what was easier.

  “If it helped her, I’m glad. How about you? Are you still taking care of your sister’s kids?”

  “Not as much, now that my dad and stepmom are up from Arizona to help out.”

  “It must have put a dent in your social life.”

  Aubrey rolled her eyes. Had she heard him right? “That is my social life. I pretty much babysit for Danielle most Friday nights anyway, and my big plans for Saturday night are usually with at least one of my sisters. That’s it.”

  “That’s it?” He didn’t believe it for a minute. “If you’re not engaged and you’re not seriously dating, then you must have come off a breakup. Right?”

  “Where did you get that idea? I’m not the dating type.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Sure you don’t, because nobody is more boring in this entire world than I am. Wait, there might be someone up in, maybe, Alaska, far up in the tundra, if there is tundra in Alaska—what do I know? Whoever that poor person is has probably expired from inactivity. Everyone else on the planet has a more exciting life than me.”

  “Now, I might have to disagree with you. My life could be more boring than yours.”

  “Impossible. For example, I’m about to do my favorite thing, and it tends to outbore anyone.”

  “Let me guess. You were reading a book.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I know about the family bookstore.”

  Okay, it wasn’t a sign or anything, Aubrey thought, but coincidence. She’d always wanted to find a man who understood her love of reading, although clearly William wasn’t the answer to that prayer. As if! “I think there’s nothing more exciting on earth than reading, but my sisters say that’s the real reason I’ll never get a date. I think books are the epitome of excitement, but not many guys do.”

  “Well, I don’t know about those other men, but I say it’s a good way to spend time. What are you reading?”

  “Anthony Trollope. And before you say, who—”

  “A popular English author who was a contemporary of Dickens. I’m in the middle of reading A Tale of Two Cities. It’s my evening entertainment.”

  “No. You’re kidding me.”

  “Nope. You’re not the only one with a love of old and very thick books.”

  What did she say to that, other than it made him just about perfect?

  “How do I tell you that I’m reading my way through the entire Penguin Classics library?” He chuckled. “You’re speechless. See? It’s true. I make you look like a social butterfly.”

  “That’s a picture.” One she couldn’t imagine. “Me, a social butterfly? I don’t think so. That would be my twin. She’s got the gift. She’s always been extroverted, so I’ve always let her—”

  “You’re a twin?”

  “Yep. I’m the oldest by three minutes.”

  “Are you two identical?”

  “Yes and no. We look exactly the same, but our personalities couldn’t be more different.”

  “Then I might be talking to your sister right now and think it’s you.”

  “No one has ever mistaken me for Ava, unless they didn’t know us at all. Trust me, even if we’d wanted to deceive someone like that, as wrong as that would be, no one would believe it.”

  “Are you two really that different?”

  “Night and day. Where Ava got all the social ability, I got all the common sense, which isn’t thrilling depending on your point of view.”

  “Common sense is an admirable quality.”

  Aubrey rolled her eyes. Notice how he wasn’t interested in her, as in a romantic thing? That’s how men saw her, she’d learned, as the plain and practical one. Sure, it was always good to have basic common sense, but was she the one with an engagement ring on her finger? No. “Easy for you to say. I thought someone who proclaims himself to be boring might understand.”

  “You see, I like boring. It’s not a liability.”

  “Says the man who spends his Friday evenings reading.”

  “I have my reasons, but I still don’t see why a woman like you is home alone on a weekend night.”

  An arrow to her heart.
Aubrey scanned the apartment’s living room. Although she’d tidied up, evidence of Ava was everywhere. A right-footed yellow sneaker—who knew what happened to its mate?—was sitting lonesome and haphazardly beneath the coffee table. A stack of books, listing to the north, had been shoved onto one of the end tables—Ava’s books for her pre-marriage counseling program at the church. Why was she alone tonight? “Because my sister is off with her fiancé having dinner with his parents.”

  “Fiancé? Then I suppose that means she’ll be getting married.”

  “Yes, in April, and leaving me. I can’t believe my luck. I’m finally getting free of her.”

  William heard the warmth in her words, and the truth behind them. It was tough facing a change, no matter how good it was. “And what about your fiancé?”

  “My what?” There was humor in her words, a lightness that reminded him of the gentle light of a summer’s dawn. “I thought we established that I was single—”

  “I still can’t wrap my mind around it. It can’t be true.”

  “It’s true, because I’m dull. I’ve been passed over by every appropriate man at my church’s single’s groups.”

  Passed over? He doubted that. “You don’t sound unhappy about that.”

  “As my sister would say, at our age, most of the good men have already been snatched up and married off. And who wants the leftovers? They’ve been leftover for some very good reasons. Besides, I’ve watched my twin date and that’s been enough for me. I don’t have to experience them myself to learn from her disasters.”

  It was her tone that made him smile and brightened him up inside. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed talking to anyone so much, and he had to know more. “Disasters?”

  “There was the guy she dated before she met Brice, her fiancé. On the third date he behaved inappropriately and in her attempt to escape him she accidentally slammed his hand in the car door and broke three fingers. That’s only one of more examples of dating gone wrong. I wisely try to stay as far away from those situations as I can.”

  “Smart move.” It hit him like a blow to his chest that he was laughing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly laughed. The odd rumble of it vibrated through him and as the first drops of rain drove at the window, the storm didn’t feel as ominous. “I have a fair share of dating gone wrong, as you put it. I stay out of the game.”