Love Arrives in Pieces

by Betsy St. Amant

  Maybe, like Stella, she wasn’t used to anyone calling her out on her bluffs.

  She smoothed her skirt over her knees. “I have no interest in stirring up any old water.”

  “Good.” He relaxed—as much as he could in that terrible chair—and let out a relieved sigh. “Then we’re on the same page.”

  “Well, I highly doubt that.”

  He groaned.

  Fortunately, any further conversation was interrupted by the joint arrival of both Lucas and Mr. Varland.

  Make that Pastor Varland. He stood up again, reached to shake hands. Pretended to ignore the surprise on both men’s faces.

  The routine of the night, apparently.

  “I can’t believe you left Chase out there all alone. You know Mom is on her way, if not already here.” Kat crunched another ice chip and returned the cup to her bedside tray.

  “It’s good for him.” Stella grinned from the plastic green couch beside the window. “Besides, I’m not going to leave you.”

  “If my husband doesn’t answer the phone soon, I swear . . .” Kat threatened to throw her cell across the room. Her blood pressure monitor beeped as it began to take another automatic reading from her arm.

  Stella quickly grabbed her sister’s cell for safekeeping and tucked it beside her, then turned down the volume on the wall-mounted TV so she’d be sure to hear the phone ring. “He’ll be here. Calm down.”

  Kat’s contractions had slowed now that she was in bed and had her feet propped up. But they’d already administered the epidural, given she was dilated to a five. The nurses were predicting two hours or less, at her current rate of progress.

  Two hours, and she’d be an aunt.

  Two hours, and her sister would be a mom.

  It was a lot to absorb.

  “I didn’t think you’d be all that concerned about Chase anyway.” Stella looked around, trying not to redecorate the room in her mind, but totally unable to prevent it. Just as Chase had predicted that day . . .

  The salmon wallpaper would be the first thing to go. No, wait. Make that the gaudy, flaked gold lamp on the bedside table.

  Kat crunched another ice chip. “It was really good of him, taking care of us like that.”

  “Taking care of you, you mean.” Stella shot her a pointed look.

  Kat sighed. Rolled her eyes. Then finally relinquished. “Yeah. Me.”

  “It was nice, wasn’t it?” She didn’t want to push, but oh she hoped. How she hoped.

  “Stella, I owe you an apology.” Kat rubbed her stomach, wincing as another contraction lit up the monitors. She’d explained last time the lines on the graphs had jumped high on the screen that she couldn’t exactly feel the pain of the contraction, but she still felt the pressure. Like a rubber band tightening around her waist and then releasing. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh about Chase. He proved tonight he’s a good man. A decent man, anyway.” She wrinkled her nose. “I guess with more time he can prove himself good.”

  “More time?” Stella’s heart quickened. Good thing she wasn’t hooked up to a BP machine herself at the moment. Her pulse barreled straight out of control. “Meaning, you’ll give him a chance to prove it?”

  “It’s your life, little sister.” Kat shifted uncomfortably on the bed, the taut hospital gown making her belly appear even larger. “I just want you happy. As happy as me and Lucas.” She narrowed her eyes as the lines on the contraction monitor leapt off the top of the screen. “That is, as happy as we’ll be after I kill him for not being here.”

  Stella’s heart twisted in sympathy. If she were in Kat’s shoes—or, well, make that gown, since she was barefooted—she’d probably be freaking out too. Still . . .

  “He’ll be here.” Lucas was the most responsible man Stella knew. He wouldn’t ignore his phone for long, especially knowing how close Kat was to her due date.

  Well, she was almost three weeks out still, technically, but from the size of her belly, Stella had been pretty certain all along the doctors had guessed that one wrong.

  The door opened with a quick snap and Mom dashed into the room. “I can’t believe you girls didn’t tell me where to come.”

  “I texted you!” Stella held up Kat’s phone for proof, then looked at it again in a double take. “Oops. Bad reception. It never sent.”

  “Bad reception? What if Lucas tried to call?” Kat reached for her phone then, despite being all the way across the room from it.

  “Hang on just a minute.” Mom held up both hands. “Lucas is here. He’s with your dad in the waiting room.” She paused. “With Chase.”

  Well, that wasn’t an awkward scenario. Stella winced. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s nervous. He’s about to become a father, after all.”

  She meant Chase, but she let that one go. Kat waved her arms from the bed. “Um, hello. Lady giving birth, here. Why is my husband not in this room?”

  “They only allow so many visitors at a time.” Mom swept her hair back. “I wanted to see my baby first. He’ll come back here and stay, and then I’d have missed my chance.”

  “You can take my spot, Mom.” Stella stood, already sore from her hour on the uncomfortable couch, and rubbed her lower back. “I’ll trade with Lucas.”

  Kat held up a hand. “No, I don’t want you to go. I’m not done yet. And we have plenty of time before anything really starts to happen.” Kat set her cup of ice on the bedside table and winced again as another contraction lit up the monitors. “Okay, maybe not. I’ll talk quickly.”

  Stella sat back down on the edge of the couch, her mother joining her on the other side and moving aside the TV remote. “This place is terrible. You should get hired here.” Mom bumped Stella’s leg, as if she expected her to get up and go place an interior design bid immediately at the front desk.

  Kat ignored her. “Stella, I’m serious about what I said about Chase.”

  “Wait. What about Chase?” Now Mom was more interested in the conversation than in the wallpaper.

  Kat ignored her. “This pregnancy has taught me a lot about control—and how I don’t have much.”

  Stella nodded. She could see that, if only in her sister’s unpredictable mood swings and food cravings. That’d be enough for any sane person to deal with. Control was just an illusion—an illusion that pickle chips dipped in peanut butter could never really satisfy.

  “I had to realize God is the only one really in control. And the sooner I let go, the better off I was. I wanted a healthy baby so badly, but I couldn’t make that happen. Only He could.” Kat pointed toward heaven, then rubbed her hands over her stomach. “And so far, everything’s turned out just fine.”

  It didn’t always. Stella knew that firsthand. Sometimes you could pray your heart out for days, weeks, months . . . and seemingly get no response.

  But then in hindsight, hadn’t God answered those prayers too? All those nights on her knees, pleading for her marriage?

  God hadn’t said no. Dillon had.

  But God said “Even though.”

  Even though she was divorced, she was free. Even though she was struggling to make ends meet, they were meeting—and she was getting to do jobs she loved. Even though she had no idea what her future held, He did—and His Word promised there would be a purpose for all the pain. Even though there were storms, there were plenty of puddles to stomp.

  Even though she’d been broken—she was healing.

  And it was beautiful.

  “Thanks, sis.” Stella blinked back tears, wondering if pregnancy hormones were contagious. She’d cried more in the last six months with her sister than she had in the entire last decade.

  “You do what you want to do with Chase. I’ll support you either way.” Kat lifted both hands in the air. “It’s your life, your decision. Your love story.”

  “Love story? With Chase Taylor?” Mom finally clued in on the depth of the conversation and sighed with resignation. “Is that really an option?”

  “Mom.” Kat’s voic
e held a growl of pre-Mama-bear warning, well-meaning though misdirected. Stella didn’t need defending.

  But she’d take it, regardless. “She’s right, Mom. It’s my choice. And Chase’s.” She hesitated. “You and Dad raised me well. I’m not one to typically make the same mistakes twice.”

  “So then why are you considering going back to him?” Suddenly Mom looked tired, so tired. Not nearly perfect and flawless; just a regular mom, in a hospital room, with her baby who was about to have a baby.

  “Because he’s not a mistake.”

  Mom met her eyes then, and Stella held her stare, letting her search out the truth as she’d taught both of her daughters to do. Finally, she released Stella’s gaze and nodded with a sigh. “I trust you.” She looked at Kat, including her in the discussion. “Both of you.”

  “It’s okay not to be perfect, Mom.” Kat’s soft admission rang through the room. “None of us is.”

  “What do you mean?” She brushed at her skirt.

  “That. Right there. You’re wearing a skirt to the hospital and worried about lint. Really?” Kat grinned. “Do you ever just relax, Mom? Or go somewhere without makeup?”

  Her mother’s expression radiated such pure horror Stella couldn’t help but laugh.

  “One thing at a time,” she mouthed to her sister.

  Kat nodded back with a grin, then gestured for their mom to hand her the remote control. “Someone go get my husband now, please.”

  “I will.” Gladly. And that meant she could see Chase at the same time. Sweet relief, downright joy, flooded Stella’s soul. It might not change anything on Chase’s side that she had her family’s approval of their relationship now, but . . . it might.

  And that was a risk she was more than happy to take.

  She was halfway to the door when Kat gasped. “Wait a minute. Is this live?” She cranked up the volume on the TV as Stella turned.

  And saw the homeless shelter downtown engulfed in flames.

  nineteen

  Chase moved through the thick crowd standing outside the charred remains of the homeless shelter, and searched the sea of firemen’s faces for Ethan. His cousin had been on the scene as part of the backup unit they’d brought in, after realizing how quickly the flames had spread.

  His grip tightened around Stella’s waist, unwilling to let her go in the crowd and unwilling to leave her in case she had a panic attack. Her distress was real.

  The entire drive from the hospital, she kept wailing that it was all her fault, despite the news reports claiming the fire department had yet to determine the actual cause of the flames.

  “They said on the TV that no one was hurt, Stella. That’s the important thing.” He’d said it over and over until they’d parked his truck a block from the shelter and jogged toward the throng milling around.

  “Ethan!” He finally spotted his cousin in the crowd, waved him over. His cousin’s gear was covered in soot. “What’s the latest, man?”

  Ethan tucked his helmet under his arm, keeping one eye on the smoke billowing as he talked. “Everyone got out. No one was injured.” He shook his head. “It’s like a miracle. A fire this size, and a crowd this big . . .”

  “See.” Chase squeezed Stella’s shoulder. “Everyone is okay.” He could even see Dixie and Howard off to the side, huddled in a group including Nancy and a few other residents he recognized. Dixie’s rocking horse rocked gently at her feet. The other residents appeared to have grabbed some of the donation boxes, but judging by the sparse piles, they hadn’t been able to get everything out.

  Darren joined them, and Chase performed a quick round of introductions, most of which he was sure soared straight over Stella’s head. She was totally zoned out.

  He turned back to Ethan, the flashing red lights of the nearby ambulance casting dark shadows across his cousin’s face. “Any word yet on the cause?”

  “They’re leaning toward faulty wiring.” Ethan clapped dust and ash off the thick fireproof sleeves of his bunker gear. “This building is ancient.”

  “Which is why they were about to rebuild it.” Stella closed her eyes with apparent grief. “They were having a fund-raiser here tonight for that very cause.”

  Ethan winced. “Ah, man. I hate to hear that. Some people just can’t catch a break.”

  Darren held up one hand. “Sometimes it seems that way. That doesn’t mean God doesn’t see this. And doesn’t mean He won’t provide another way.”

  “Another way to what?” Stella gestured wildly toward the building. “There’s nothing left to expand on. Now they’ll need even more money than they would have before.”

  “What about insurance?” Chase eased Stella’s hands down after one of her dramatic motions almost clocked Darren in the cheek. “Since it was a fire, they should be able to get a decent claim.” There would probably be a lengthy investigation to rule out fraud first, but delayed payment was better than nothing.

  “They don’t have insurance.”

  Oh.

  Stella’s voice was choked with tears now, her eyes blinking rapidly as she watched the smoke spilling from the frame of the devastated building. “The city stopped paying that investment a long time ago, and Nancy couldn’t afford it on her own. They have nothing now.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Those who already had next to nothing now really have nowhere to go.” She hiccupped. “And it’s all my fault.”

  “Stella.” He pulled her close, away from the crowd, as Darren shot them both a concerned look. “You’ve got to quit assuming blame for this fire until they can figure out what happened. Do you want to get accused of arson?”

  “No, but it’s all part of that same incident from before. With the sprinkler system.” Stella struggled to draw a full breath, the air catching in her lungs and heaving her chest in sporadic shudders. “It has to be. What are the odds?”

  “You don’t know that.” He rubbed her arms in an attempt to soothe her, wishing he could shove the truth through her skull. “Listen, you’ve got to calm down or the paramedics are going to have to work on you next.”

  “How can I calm down? I did this to them.” Stella was shaking now, her breath whistling between her teeth. “I shut down the shelter again, this time for good!”

  “Stella. Listen to me.” Chase grabbed her face and held her cheeks firmly between both hands. But her gaze still wouldn’t land directly on him. “This wasn’t your fault. Old buildings burn down. It happens.”

  But no. She was losing it, he was losing her. “Stella. Snap out of it.”

  “May I?” Darren stepped forward, seeking permission with his eyes. “I’m worried about her going into some kind of shock.”

  “She gets panic attacks.” Chase whispered, unsure Stella would notice, even if she heard him.

  Darren accepted the information with a nod, and Chase stepped back, hands off, letting Darren take over. Good luck.

  Darren gently touched Stella’s arm, urging her farther away from the crowd pressing in like ants to a picnic. Chase followed, but hung a heartbeat behind. “Stella, was it?”

  She nodded, eyes large and wide, flitting here and there and landing on everything going on around them.

  He smiled patiently. “Stella, can you look me in the eyes for a minute?”

  Again, good luck.

  She tried. Blinked. Shook her head. Almost made it.

  “What’s your middle name?”

  She thought hard. “Michelle.”

  Darren grinned. “That’s pretty.”

  She relaxed, her shoulders visibly growing less tense. Chase stepped closer, rested his hand on her back, felt the knots ease. He applied rhythmic, circular pressure on the worst ones as Darren continued to talk to her in quiet, even tones. Simple questions. Where she lived. What she liked most about her job.

  Which reminded him of the surprise he still needed to pull off for the next night. Hopefully it would be a good thing, something to snap Stella out of this guilty trance she’d fallen into. He’d never seen anyone
take something as vague as a fire so personally. He felt bad for the residents, too, but instead of slipping into panic mode, he was brainstorming ideas as to how to help.

  In fact, maybe that’s what she needed to do. Refocus.

  He tuned back into her conversation with Darren just in time to realize Darren was on the same track. “I tell my guys at the station that it’s not healthy to assume responsibility for something that wasn’t your fault. When you go that route, then you’re going to start dealing with misplaced guilt and a host of other issues.”

  Exactly. Not good.

  “So let’s switch tactics here, Stella.” Darren’s voice even calmed down the bit of anxiety roiling in Chase’s stomach. How did the man do that? “How can you help make a difference for the residents now? Today?”

  She fidgeted a little, shoving her hands in her pockets, then pulling them back out to pick at her nails. Still signs of suppressing panic. “I don’t know. I have a tiny little apartment. Nowhere for them to go.”

  Darren nodded. “Where would be big enough for the residents to go?”

  And just like that, Stella was back, an idea lighting up her eyes as she whipped around and grabbed Chase’s arm. “Hey, what about the Cameo? It could house some of the residents temporarily. The lobby is big enough for cots.”

  Now she was thinking. Chase agreed, promised he’d find out about it, check with Bob. He’d know who to contact for permission.

  Darren pressed her further. “What else can you do, Stella? Practically speaking.”

  “We can pick up some breakfast in the morning, since we’ll be killing time before the grand opening of the theater.” She looked over her shoulder at the regular residents milling about Nancy. “And we should invite them all to the party. There’ll be free popcorn and drinks there already, which will help too.”

  “You feel better?” Darren patted her arm. “Nothing wrong with needing a little help easing away from the edge.”

  “That was a big help. Thank you.” Stella surprised him with a quick hug before Darren excused himself to go minister to some of the residents.