The Tuesday Morning Collection

by Karen Kingsbury

  At the end of the meeting, Holly turned in her resignation. She needed something new, maybe a job with a magazine or a newspaper. Selling houses would never be the same after the horrifying terror of that night, and besides, maybe it was time for her and her mom to sell their condos and move somewhere new. San Diego, or back to New York City, maybe.

  Especially now that it looked like she’d lost Alex again.

  Holly blinked and focused on him once more. If it weren’t for Bo, Alex would be dead now. Clay would be at the podium talking about him and not his dog. Holly couldn’t stand the thought. She remembered what it felt like to be in his arms the other night and how she had known with everything in her that she still loved Alex Brady.

  She would love him until the day she died. Which was all the more reason why she couldn’t stay around. The possibility of running into him was too great. If she was ever going to have a chance to move on, then first she needed to move away from Los Angeles as soon as possible. Her heart would follow in time.

  Alex turned his head just enough that she could see the rugged muscles along the side of his face. He hadn’t cried during the ceremony, and that was another sign that maybe the Alex she wanted him to be was gone once again, lost even farther than before because of this new injustice in his life.

  Be with him, God … life’s too short to spend it angry and driven. She longed for him, ached for him to look at her like he’d looked at her that night in the veterinary hospital, but she hadn’t seen him again until an hour ago. In that moment, there wasn’t even a flicker of the depth and connection she’d felt in the vet’s waiting room. Help him, God … let him find the strength to let his feelings show again.

  This was new, this ability to pray as easily as she’d prayed back in high school. It was something good that had come from the terrible firestorm, and Holly was grateful. Whatever the future held, she couldn’t imagine taking it on without God’s wisdom and protection, His guidance and promise of eternity. If she couldn’t have Alex, her faith would sustain her. It was something her mother had prayed about for years, and it would bring the two of them closer, as well.

  Clay was finishing up, and after he sat back down, the sergeant of the K9 division said a few more words and then closed the ceremony with a prayer, asking God for continued protection and guidance for Alex and all the deputies in the sheriff’s department, and thanking the Lord for the courage of police dogs like Bo.

  A quartet of bagpipe players started a haunting rendition of “Amazing Grace” as the procession of officers filed from the seats and back into the meeting room inside headquarters. A reception had been prepared by one of the churches in town, so that the K9 and SWAT guys could talk about the loss and share memories of Bo and his heroic feats. His and Alex’s.

  “You staying here?” Jamie put her hand over Holly’s as she stood with the others in their row.

  “For awhile.” She looked at Alex and gave a light shrug with one shoulder. “I’m not sure if he wants to talk, but I want to be close … just in case.”

  Jamie hesitated, her expression kind and sincere. “Clay and I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thank you.” Holly smiled. “I hope we can see each other again.”

  “Me too.” Jamie took hold of her kids’ hands, and together with her family they walked across the grass toward the reception.

  While the bagpipers finished up, a few of the deputies stayed and gathered around Alex, talking to him, patting him on the back, hugging him. Holly watched as Jamie came back outside and handed Alex a package. The two talked for a minute, and then Jamie gave him a quick hug and returned to the building with the others.

  Eventually, Alex and Holly were the only two left outside. Alex didn’t seem to notice she was there. He walked slowly toward the photo and lifted it off the easel. He stayed that way for a long time, looking at the picture.

  Suddenly, Holly felt awkward and out of place. She should probably leave now, before he turned around and saw her there by herself. That way he wouldn’t feel like he had to come over and talk to her. Because if he’d meant everything she’d felt from him that night in the vet’s waiting room, he would’ve found a way to talk to her by now, maybe not by phone — since he didn’t have her number — but here at the service, at least. She started to stand. This was no place for her, here alone with Alex. She’d been rejected by him too many times to let it happen again.

  She turned and started to walk silently back toward the parking lot, but she only got a few feet before she heard him call out to her.

  “Holly … wait!”

  At the sound of his voice, she turned around. Fifty yards of grass and chairs separated them, but even this far away she thought she could hear a softness in his tone. She stared at him, waiting.

  When he seemed sure she wasn’t leaving, he set the package from Jamie on a chair and returned the photo back to its place. Then he let his hands fall to his sides, and slowly he walked up the center aisle toward her. The closer he came, the better she could see his eyes, and for a heartbeat she thought they were back to the way they’d been the other night. But in the glare of afternoon sun and through the tint of her glasses, she couldn’t let herself believe that, not when her heart was dying inside her.

  But with each step, he never once broke eye contact, and when he was only a few feet from her she didn’t have to wonder anymore. The man walking up to her wasn’t the angry closed-off sheriff’s deputy. He wasn’t the broken teenager bent on revenging his father’s death. He was just Alex. The Alex she wasn’t sure she’d ever see again.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Throughout the service, Alex had refused to let himself think about Holly. He knew she was sitting back there with Jamie, but his heart couldn’t process everything happening around him. In the past five years, he’d sat in on memorial services for two police dogs and three deputies from across the state. Always he would sit shoulder-to-shoulder with the other deputies. Always he could picture the service being for him, because that was the sort of cop he was, the type that went all out for every call.

  But Bo?

  Sure, his dog had a knick in his ear where he’d nearly taken a bullet before, and even in the weeks leading up to his death he had made a number of death-defying captures of bad guys. But Bo was so good, so fiercely determined to take care of the crime scene, that Alex had never imagined him being killed in action.

  Never imagined a service like this for his very own dog.

  So before he could think about Holly, he had to have this time for Bo. His dog deserved his complete attention, the good-bye he had earned. His remains had been cremated, and Alex planned to let them go on a wave at Malibu beach — where he would always see Bo running along behind him in the shallow surf.

  None of that was mentioned at the service, though, because the focus wasn’t on Bo’s death, but on his life. Alex appreciated every story, every officer who took the time to share about Bo. He could’ve stood up there and told stories till dark, but those were the moments he’d keep forever inside him. What mattered here is that other people knew about Bo. The people who had come to say good-bye to his dog would leave the service knowing him a little better. And that was worth something.

  Strange how the service had played out. He could practically feel Bo lying on the ground at his feet, the way the dogs of the other K9 officers were lying near their partners. If he didn’t look down, if he didn’t check the photo on the easel or pay too close attention to what was being said, he could pretend for a little while longer that it had never happened, that Bo was still there. If only he didn’t look down.

  But as the program ended and the bagpipes stopped playing, the truth was as painful as it was obvious. Bo was gone. As the other deputies and the bagpipers cleared out, he talked to God about all he was feeling, and a truth settled in around the broken pieces of his heart.

  If — in the minute before his sergeant had introduced him to Bo — someone would’ve told him that the ride would be far
too short, that it would end tragically and before either of them had the chance to work together all the years they should, Alex wouldn’t have changed a thing. Working with Bo for the years he did made him one of the lucky ones. Both of them would’ve done it all again without hesitation.

  He’d talked to his sergeant about the next chapter in his life as a sheriff’s deputy, and he’d made a decision for now. He didn’t want to work with a new K9 partner. Instead, he wanted to work SWAT with Clay and Joe and maybe someday down the road he would think about having another dog. God had spared him from the inferno for a reason, and police work had to be at least part of it. Maybe even K9 work at some point, but it would take time. He would always compare any other dog to Bo, and that wouldn’t be fair — not for either of them.

  Now, though, the service was over and he was lost in the moment, staring at one of the only pictures of Bo and him, when he heard the faintest sound from the back of the set of chairs. He turned just as Holly was leaving, and panic grabbed at him. What was he doing? He hadn’t made his intentions clear to her, hadn’t told her that he wanted to stay in her life now that they’d found each other again, or that his faith had been restored. For all she knew, he was the same Alex he’d been before the fire.

  And so he set down the picture and the package and went to her, praying as he walked that she might see in his eyes the truth about who he was now, who he had become again. He had learned so much about evil, what he could do about it and what he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop a bullet or rid the city of every crook or terrorist that came along. He would get rid of as much evil as he could, but he would also remember that evil won most when it won in his heart.

  Something he would never let it do again.

  He came to her slowly, and with every step the walls and years and distance between them faded away. When he was so close he could smell the scent of the shampoo she used in her hair, he stopped and looked at her, looked into the deepest parts of her.

  “Alex … is it really you?” Her words came out as a whisper. She took off her sunglasses, and unshed tears made her eyes sparkle in the sunlight.

  They’d hugged the other day, but they hadn’t held hands since the day before 9/11. Sometimes Alex would be driving in his squad car, patrolling the streets of LA, and he’d remember the sensation of her hands in his with such force that it took his breath. He still didn’t have any idea whether she had a boyfriend or even a fiancé, but no one could touch what they’d shared all those years ago. So now, when words could never capture the extent of his feelings, he did the only thing he knew to do.

  He held out his hands.

  Holly made a soft sound that was more cry than laughter, but she must’ve understood what he was feeling because she took a step closer and slowly, tenderly wove her fingers between his. The sensation was magic, and it lifted everything he had ever felt for her to a higher degree that almost frightened him. He didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t wait much longer. He could feel himself falling beyond anything he’d ever felt before. “Is … is there someone in your life, Holly?”

  She kept looking deeper into his eyes. “No.” She seemed tentative, as if she didn’t believe this was really happening here, now. “You?”

  “No one. Never.”

  Her fingers pressed in a little deeper between his. “Me neither.”

  He could smell the sweetness of her skin, and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and kiss her, so she would know without a doubt how he felt about her. But first he had to at least try to make himself understood. “I … I became someone else after my dad died in that tower.”

  “I know.” A well of sadness rang in her voice, and she smiled through fresh tears. “I watched it happen, remember?”

  He eased one of his hands free, and with his thumb he brushed back a piece of her blonde hair. “I’m sorry, Holly. I was blinded by what happened.” He put his hand over his chest. “But in here, you never left me.” He placed his fingers along the side of her face. “You were always in my heart.”

  “Right next to you.” With her free hand, she gently touched the muscles in his jawline. “Because you — the Alex I knew — were always inside your heart too. No matter how hard you tried to become someone who didn’t care.” She tilted her head, her eyes beyond tender now. “I never stopped loving you, Alex. I always believed someday I’d find you again.”

  “Holly …” Bittersweet joy rushed through his veins and swelled his heart, filling him with feelings he hadn’t known before this moment. But he didn’t celebrate just yet. “It would’ve been so easy for you to forget me, move on. I’m sorry.” He worked his fingers into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. “Can you ever forgive me?’

  There was only the two of them and nothing else. Not the planes overhead or the traffic on the busy streets outside headquarters. Not the chairs or the memorial service or any of it. Holly’s sad smile was as familiar as home. “No, Alex.”

  “No?” His heart pounded, and her nearness made his breathing faster than before.

  Her smile faded, but her eyes had never loved him more. “No, you could never have been easy to forget.” She blinked back the shine in her eyes. “And, yes, I forgive you.”

  It was going to happen. He was going to kiss her like some scene from a distant dream. Alex searched her eyes, her face. His body trembled from the intense love he felt in that moment. “I’ve never loved anyone but you. I tried, but a part of me never stopped.” Then, because he couldn’t force his brain to think of another coherent word until he did what he was longing to do, he touched his lips to hers and, in a dance as old as time, they came together, lost in the moment, lost in each other.

  The kiss lasted a long time, but it wasn’t one of crazy passion or physical desire — although that place wasn’t far off. Instead, it was a kiss that erased the years and doubts and told of a love neither of them had forgotten. He tasted her tears as the kiss grew, and when finally they eased back and caught their breath, his cheeks were wet too.

  She wiped them with the softest touch of her thumb. “I’m sorry … about Bo.”

  Alex sucked in a quick breath and lifted his chin, his eyes on the blue sky overhead. “He was a good partner.”

  “I wish I’d known him longer.” She sniffed and hugged him, swaying just a little as they allowed the memory of the dog to stand with them for a moment.

  Again Alex wished he had more tangible ways to remember Bo, something he could’ve shared with Holly. Then he remembered Jamie’s gift. She’d given him a package and said something about not being sure if Alex had anything like it. “Wait,” he eased free of her embrace and took hold of her hand. “Come with me. I need to open Jamie’s package.”

  Holly kept up with him, her fingers still laced between his, the feeling something Alex never wanted to lose again. They reached the first row, and Alex let go briefly so he could open the gift. Holly stayed by his side, watching, waiting.

  He lifted the lid of a white box, and inside, beneath a few pieces of tissue paper, was a framed collage that made Alex catch his breath. The pictures in the frame were several beautiful shots of him and Bo on the Michaels’ front porch, and one amazing photo of Bo all by himself. Regal and loyal, his eyes exactly as Alex would always remember them. The moment came rushing back, Jamie’s awkward picture-taking so she could find a way to talk to him about his past. He had been grateful since then for the risks she’d taken, for giving him the copied page from Jake’s journal, and playing a part in helping him find his way back to the Lord.

  But he’d forgotten about the pictures until now.

  “He looks so strong, so beautiful.” Holly touched the side of the frame. “These are amazing.”

  “I … I didn’t think there were any pictures like this.” Alex covered the frame with the tissue papers again. He would thank Jamie later, Jamie and Clay, and Joe and his wife — because all of them had prayed for him to find his way back. He knew that from conversations he’d had with Clay in the
last few days.

  As he fit the lid back on the box, his fingers brushed against hers, and electricity shot through him. He framed her face with his hand and kissed her again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Only God could’ve done this.” She kissed him again, more slowly than before. Then they collected the gift from Jamie and the framed photo on the easel and headed inside.

  As they walked, Alex marveled at the goodness of God, who had given him the most wonderful parents, and a dog he would remember forever. God who had helped him understand that the condition of his heart was far more critical than the condition of the world, and who had spared him from certain death in the midst of towering flames. But beyond all that, he marveled that God would give him this.

  A second chance with Holly.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Linda held her son’s elbow as he led her down the center aisle of the stunning little chapel on the hill at Pepperdine University, the one that overlooked the beach where Alex and Bo used to go on their rare days off. A hundred or so deputies and their families, and a handful of Holly’s friends filled the pews. The air smelled of salt and sunshine and seawater. They reached the front right pew and Alex kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too, Son.” She held on a few seconds longer, still amazed at the transformation in him. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” Alex leaned past her to his stepfather, Lee, who was already seated. Alex shook his hand. “Good to see you, sir.”

  “Yes,” the two shared a sincere smile. Lee’s voice filled with pride. “It’s all so very good.”

  Alex patted his mother’s hand and then left them and went to stand at the front of the church next to the pastor. Linda sat down and tried to catch her breath. If it was all just a dream, she wanted to wake up now before they went any further. But that was the most amazing part of the story. It was real. She sat back against the hard wooden bench and remembered again how she’d found out the news. It had been Veteran’s Day — November 11 — just before dinner. The buzzer sounded, and Lee pushed the button to open the apartment building door. But when Linda asked who it was, Lee only smiled and said, “Delivery.”