Through the Fire

by Christine Lynxwiler

  “Want some company?”

  Did she want air to breathe? “Sure.”

  He helped her carry the bouquets to the car. They set them carefully in the backseat. When they had the car loaded, the shop door locked, and were buckled in the car, Jessa looked at Clint. “Thanks again.”

  “It was really just an excuse to spend time with you.”

  In spite of the electricity jumping between them like a happy frog on a bed of lily pads, she laughed. “You think you’re so smart. I guess you know I can’t resist a man in a uniform.” She nodded toward his shirt monogrammed with the words Tri-Lake Security.

  He looked as if she’d punched him. Slowly he shook his head. “Actually, I think I’m not being smart at all right now, but I can’t seem to help it.”

  When he didn’t expound, she started the motor. They rode along without talking, stopping occasionally to deliver a bouquet. As they completed the map she’d laid out, Jessa made a few inconsequential comments about the road, the houses, and the flowers, but Clint never responded.

  By the time Jessa pulled back into the flower shop parking lot shortly before six, her nerves were taut from her passenger’s silence. When she shoved the gearshift into park, he looked at her as if he wanted to say something but opened the door instead.

  “Elaine invited me to come for supper at seven. Are you going to be there?”

  For a minute, Jessa thought he wouldn’t answer.

  “Not tonight. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

  ❧

  Clint flopped down on the bed, tucked his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He felt like a heel. He’d left Jessa sitting in the parking lot of The Flower Basket, and unless he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did, she’d sat there crying after he left.

  And it was his fault. He’d been leading her on. Since he’d gotten the job at Tri-Lake, he’d blocked the future from his mind. Only one career held any interest for him, and he was unable to have that one, so any mindless job would do. But Jessa’s comment about a man in uniform brought him to his senses.

  What was he doing masquerading as a whole person? He used to be a man in uniform, with the courage that went with it. But instead of running through the wall of flames, he’d allowed his fellow firefighters to drag him out, and Ryan had died.

  Jessa deserved far better. And the only way she would get it was with him out of the picture. Though he was drawn to her like a kid to a carnival, he had to stay away. Of course, after his moodiness today, he probably wouldn’t have to worry about it.

  He turned on his side and punched the pillow under his head. A pink note on the nightstand caught his eye. He sat up on the edge of the bed and grabbed the note.

  Clint, I found this in a box of things and thought you might like to have it. Love, Mom.

  His mother was a firm believer in privacy and usually didn’t come into his apartment, but he’d asked her to let the dog out for him once a day since he was working. He looked at the nightstand to see what she’d left him.

  Even if his name hadn’t been engraved on the cover, he would have recognized the black leather-bound Bible immediately. His parents had given it to him the day he was baptized. As an exuberant thirteen-year-old, he’d carried it everywhere. When he’d gone off to college, he’d gotten a new one, and this copy had stayed behind.

  Not such a subtle hint, Mom.

  In spite of his cynicism, Clint held the Bible in his hands and rubbed his fingertips over the gold letters that spelled out his name. He opened the book that had built his burgeoning belief into what he’d thought—up until Ryan’s death—was an unshakable faith.

  Handwritten notes dotted the margins, and some verses had been underlined in pencil. As he flipped through, a yellow section caught his eye. Verses seven and eight in chapter one of First Peter had both been highlighted.

  That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ: Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.

  He shivered. In the side margin, written in a familiar teen-age scrawl, was one thought.

  When we go through the fire, we come out stronger on the other side.

  The word through was underlined twice.

  The concept had seemed so simple then.

  Clint bowed his head and wept.

  Seventeen

  “Which ribbon looks best?” Doris held two shades of yellow ribbon next to the arrangement she was working on.

  “Definitely that one.” Jessa pointed to the deeper color.

  “I agree. It kind of gives it an autumn feeling but not too much.” Doris neatly tied the bow. “It’s hard to believe it’s fall. And it seems like we’re getting busier every day.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? I was afraid we’d lose a lot of business from the wilted flowers fiasco, but I think we ended up gaining goodwill.” Jessa snipped the ends off the flowers before she put them in the vase. “I really appreciated you and Seth pitching in.”

  “No problem. You know, it’s funny how things work out. I thought about buying this place when I found out Ruby was selling.”

  Jessa’s hand stilled. She’d never told Doris that she’d overheard the conversation about her possibly buying the shop.

  “I left it up to God to work out the financing, and He’s much wiser than I am.” Doris touched the bow one more time and set the finished product to one side.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He knew I wasn’t interested in actually owning the business, but I just loved my job so much I didn’t want to lose it.”

  “Really?” Jessa had to admit she was relieved that her new friend and trusted coworker wasn’t harboring feelings of resentment.

  “Yep. I didn’t get financing, but I didn’t need it. I got to keep doing what I want without the hassle of being the owner.” She nodded to Jessa. “And I really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, Doris. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  The phone rang. Jessa reached for it. “We’ll have to adjourn this meeting of the mutual admiration society until later.”

  Doris chuckled.

  “Flower Basket. This is Jessa. May I help you?”

  “Get out.”

  The familiar scratchy voice sent chills down her spine.

  “Who is this?”

  For a split second, Jessa heard something in the background. A woman’s voice maybe; she couldn’t be sure. The phone went dead, and a dial tone buzzed in her ear.

  Doris frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Jessa still held the phone in her hand. “I don’t know. I guess it was just a crank call.”

  “Maybe it was a wrong number,” Doris said.

  “No.” Jessa shook her head. “This person has called before.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Well, last time they said, ‘You don’t belong there,’ but this time they said, ‘Get out.’ ” Jessa hated the quiver in her voice.

  “Well, that’s bizarre. Was it a woman or a man?”

  “I couldn’t tell. This time at the end of the call, I thought I heard a woman’s voice in the background. But it could have been the television.”

  Doris put her arm around Jessa. “Honey, why don’t you sit down for a few minutes?”

  “No, I—”

  The phone rang again, and they both stared at it.

  “Well, it is a business,” Jessa said with a nervous laugh. Doris motioned toward herself, but Jessa shook her head and picked up the phone.

  “Flower Basket. This is Jessa. May I help you?”

  “Hi.”

  “Clint, hi.” Jessa knew he probably thought she was crazy for sounding so relieved, considering they’d parted on less than amiable terms the other night.

  “I wanted to come by the shop and talk to you, but I
had to work through lunch today. Listen, I owe you a big apology for the other night.”

  Jessa’s heart thudded in her chest.

  “And several times before, actually.” He chuckled grimly. “As Seth would say, I’ve got issues. But I promise I’m working through them. So, will you forgive me?”

  “Consider it forgotten, Clint.” Jessa fiddled with the phone line. “Speaking of Seth, he says you two are regular fishing buddies now.”

  “Yes, the fish start jumping out on the banks when they see us coming.”

  “That must make for poor fishing.”

  “True, I guess it would. I better quit telling that fish story, huh?”

  “Probably so.”

  “Remember me telling you we’re all getting together for Mom’s birthday this weekend?”

  “Yes.” She appreciated the apology, but she had issues of her own she’d do well to remember.

  “Well, the invitation is still open.”

  “Thanks, Clint, but—”

  “But, even if you can’t come, I want to order some flowers for Mom.”

  “Okay.” She chided herself for wishing he hadn’t given up so easily. “What did you have in mind?” She picked up a pen and the order pad. Arranging flowers for Elaine would be a pleasure.

  “Something really unusual.”

  “Um-hum. In what way?”

  He laughed. “Well, let’s see. . . She’s had some really odd ones over the years. You might say it’s almost a competition between her kids.”

  “Uh-oh. Are you trying to tell me you had an ulterior motive for rescuing a florist?”

  “Now you’re getting the picture.”

  “So I take it you want me to figure something out on my own.”

  “Yes, that would be perfect. When can I pick it up?”

  “What time will everyone be arriving?”

  “Around noon.”

  “Then why don’t I take it to my house about eleven, and you can pick it up there?”

  “Can you leave the shop?”

  “Yeah, I’ll work it out.”

  “Okay, thanks, Jessa. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.

  Me, either.

  She hung up the phone and filled Doris in on the situation.

  Doris picked up the latest flower arrangement book. “Maybe this will give you some ideas.” She slid it across to Jessa. “By the way, any Saturday you want me to work, just let me know. Between now and Christmas, I can use the extra hours.”

  “Well, if it’s okay with you then, will you fill in for me this Saturday?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Great. I’m not going, but I would like to make Elaine a bouquet from myself and drop it off for her. I’ll be here early Saturday morning working on my and Clint’s bouquets.”

  Two hours later, the phone rang. Doris answered, then handed the phone to Jessa.

  “This is Jessa. May I help you?” Some people asked to speak to the owner every time.

  “Jessa, this is Megan McFadden, Elaine’s daughter-in-law.” The woman’s voice was soft and melodious. “I know you don’t know me, but I need to ask a favor.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Clint may have told you Elaine loves unusual bouquets. . .”

  “Yes, he mentioned it.”

  “Well, it’s so hard to transport a fresh bouquet, and I wondered if I could order one from you.”

  “That would be great. What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh.”

  Jessa could hear a child whispering in the background. Something about a rascal being in a deep hole.

  “Do you think you could just pick something unusual that she would like?” Megan’s smooth voice had taken on a slightly frantic edge.

  “Sure. Would you like to pick it up at my house next door around 11:00?”

  “That would be perfect. Thanks so much. Oh, and Jessa?”

  “Yes?”

  “We would love for you to join us. Elaine loves you, and she’ll be disappointed if you’re right next door and not there with us.”

  “Thanks so much for asking. I’ll think about it.”

  How could she not think about it? Now she had not one, but two, very unusual bouquets to dream up by Saturday. Three, if she counted her own.

  ❧

  After Rapscallion’s bedtime walk, Clint started back up to his apartment. He paused for a moment at the bottom step and looked up at the sky. The guard light was out for some reason, and the stars were so numerous it took his breath away.

  Clint walked to the backyard and onto the long dock that jutted out into the lake. At the end, he sat down and soaked in the peaceful stillness of the night.

  Oh, Lord, he started automatically. Thank You for the beauty of Your creation. He’d been praising God since he was knee high to a grasshopper.

  He heard footsteps behind him on the dock. Clint looked up. His dad nodded. “Son, am I interrupting?”

  “No.”

  “May I sit down?”

  “Sure.” With the puppy in his lap, Clint scooted over to one side so his dad could sit beside him.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” his dad asked.

  Clint nodded.

  “Your mom thinks you’re angry at God. Is that right?”

  Clint nodded again. He could imagine what his dad would have to say about that.

  “I can’t say that I blame you.” Jeb leaned back on the palms of his hands. “Sure does seem like He gave you a rough deal.”

  Clint didn’t say anything, suddenly feeling like he was walking through a pleasant looking field sown with land mines.

  “I can just imagine how bitter Becky is. He was your best friend, but he was her husband. She must be burning up inside.”

  Clint just stared at the grain in the wood that reflected the moonlight.

  “She’s probably mad at you, too, isn’t she?”

  “No!” Clint didn’t mean to explode, but his dad didn’t seem to understand that this wasn’t a case of his brother hurting his feelings or swiping his last piece of gum. Some things couldn’t be fixed by country wisdom. “You know she’s not mad at me.” He lowered his voice. “She doesn’t have to be. I can do that just fine myself. I don’t understand why God would let Ryan die. Why didn’t He use me to save him? I was right there.”

  “You can search for the rest of your years and never find the answer to that, Clint.” He held his hand up toward the black sky that sparkled with tiny diamonds. “Do you understand that? Were you there when God made it?”

  “No.”

  “And you weren’t there when a time for Ryan to die was recorded, either, right?”

  “Right, but that’s too simplistic, Dad.”

  “Is it?”

  “If that’s true, then prayers are nothing.”

  “Doesn’t the Bible teach that prayer changes things?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then prayer changes things. Does it teach that every prayer we pray will be answered in a positive way, even if it’s not according to God’s will?”

  “No, but why would God will for Ryan to die?”

  “Clint, I know one thing for sure. God didn’t take Ryan to hurt you. Sin came into a perfect world, and with sin comes death. There could be innumerable reasons why Ryan died that day, and I can’t even imagine them. Some of them could have to do with a hundred years from now. But I do know that one fact. God loves you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” He pushed to his feet. “I appreciate you coming out here. I’m sorry for worrying you and Mom.” He ran his hand through his hair and thought of his newly started daily Bible readings. “Don’t give up on me.”

  “We never could, Son.” Jeb hugged him quickly. “Goodnight.”

  As Clint watched his dad walk down the dock, he shook his head. He remembered a time when there was no situation his dad couldn’t address with his wise answers. But tonight, his answers hadn’t helped.

  Maybe because they fell on a closed hear
t, he thought with a pang of guilt.

  Eighteen

  Jessa pulled into her driveway and grinned. She knew she should feel guilty for playing hooky, but even though cool air normally dominated the forecast this time of year, this week—hot and sunny—was a throwback. After lunch when Doris had volunteered to watch the shop for the rest of the day, Jessa had jumped at the chance to take a rare afternoon off.

  She didn’t know yet what she would do, but it would be something fun. . .something like kayaking. She’d need a partner for that, though, because they had to leave a vehicle at the ‘getting in’ point and one at the ‘getting out’ point. One idea down, thirty to go. Unless. . .

  Her gaze flitted to the house next door. Elaine had mentioned just a few weeks ago that she’d love to go kayaking. Jessa sprinted across the backyard and ran up the steps to the patio door.

  Elaine peeked out with a frown on her face, but it quickly grew to a smile. “Jessa! What are you doing home at this time of day?”

  “I came to kidnap you.”

  “Why am I not scared?”

  “I don’t know. You should be, though. I want you to go kayaking with me.”

  Elaine’s expression grew doubtful, so Jessa rephrased. “Let me put that another way. I need you to go kayaking with me.”

  “Need me? Why?”

  Jessa explained about the finer elements of needing two vehicles.

  “Oh, Jess, I’m so sorry. As you probably know. . .” Her blue eyes twinkled. “I’m having a houseful of company tomorrow. It’s a surprise, but since they come every year for my birthday, I know to clean the house. I was just getting started.”

  “Are you sure you just don’t want to go kayaking?” Jessa eyed the immaculate house suspiciously.

  “I’m sure! I’d love to. I’ll have time to sit down and visit with you this weekend, but, honestly, I’ve got a list as long as my arm to finish before y’all arrive. I can’t possibly go.” Elaine grew solemn. “But I hate to knock you out of it.”

  “Knock who out of what?” Jeb walked in with an armload of firewood. He saw Jessa and stopped. “Don’t say a word about how early in the year it is for firewood. From the time autumn even gets within breathing distance, Elaine starts after me to carry in some wood. Just in case. Just in case what, I’d like to know. In case I get so old and decrepit before fall that I’m not able to carry any then?”