The Missing Piece (Inspirational Love Story)

by Carol McCormick

  Mr. Crawford took a step forward and leaned in toward her. Narrowing his eyes, he took aim and shot a look at her that nearly blew a hole through her heart. “Well now, you should have at least waited to see if that happens now, shouldn’t you?”

  She felt a chill, yet there was no breeze.

  Old Crawford never minced words to get his point across. No doubt about it, he climbed the corporate ladder by stepping on many a head in the process. Didn’t need those sensitivity-training seminars, no way, no how, no tact. He’d reached his exalted position on his own terms. Everyone knew his unspoken trigger-happy motto: Safety off, aim your sites, then fire away. Well today his business savvy, as he so often called it, wasn’t going to intimidate her. She stood her ground nary a flinch, waiting for the next round of fire. “I know what I’m doing, Dad. I’m not a child anymore.”

  Mr. Crawford rubbed the back of his neck and paced the living room floor. “You suddenly know all the answers because you’re twenty years old. You're taking a gamble no matter what happens! What if he doesn't come out of this? Then what?” The veins in her father’s temples bulged like inverted rivers. “I’ll tell you what; you threw your chance with Randy away!”

  “No, I didn't! I’ve been looking at things from a different perspective lately, and I don't feel right about marrying Randy. I would have been marrying him for all the wrong reasons like financial security, status, and pride. He was a challenge, and I felt like I’d be winning the grand prize bachelor of Mercy General Hospital.”

  “So what is wrong with that?” he said, pausing between each word.

  “I want more.”

  “More, more, you always want more! More of this, more of that, you’re never satisfied! Look at this house,” he raised his splayed hands in the air. “You want this vase?” he snatched it from the mantle and plunked it on the table in front of her. “Take it! You want that oil painting?” he walked over and yanked the canvas from the wall and leaned it against the sofa. “Take it! I’ve worked hard all my life to give you and your mother everything you ever wanted. I tried to make you happy—so I bought you nice things.”

  “And I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me or given me,” she said, pleading for him to understand, “but I don’t want more things. I never knew what the more was that I wanted until recently, but I can see it in Dylan. It’s not material. He's got something that runs deeper, like an internal spiritual reservoir.”

  “What's he involved in now, some hocus pocus cult?”

  “Dad! No! He's become a Christian. He’s different. I can't explain it because I'm not sure of everything myself.”

  “See? You don't know the whole story. How do you know he's not putting on an act?”

  Lorraine slipped her arm into her coat and kissed her father’s cheek. “Instinct. Feminine intuition. I just know. Don't worry, Dad, it'll be okay. You'll see.”

  Lorraine wondered if the nurses on her floor had heard the news yet. She took a breath and braced herself, unsure of how they'd react. Hopefully, they wouldn't take the news as poorly as her father did, but before she told anyone else, she wanted to tell Connie first. Lorraine leaned over the nurse’s station to where she was sitting and said, “Are you busy?”

  Connie rolled her eyes and said, “I’m always busy. I’m either filling up things that are empty or emptying things that are full.”

  “I mean right now,” she whispered. “Can I talk to you before our shift begins?”

  “Sure, what's up?”

  “Let’s go somewhere private.”

  Lorraine led the way to a nearby waiting room. No one was usually there this early in the morning, and as she predicted, no one was in the room. Two vinyl couches and four vinyl chairs, all in shades of soothing blue were arranged around the room. A television set was bolted near the ceiling, and a table with two carafes of coffee, and a tray of lemon poppy mini-muffins were neatly arranged in the corner.

  Lorraine walked across the room and poured a cup of coffee. “Do you want some?” she asked, holding the carafe up in the air.

  “No, thanks. I’m okay.” Connie sat down and pulled out a small plastic bag from her pocket. She opened the baggie and pulled out a carrot stick then bit it in half.

  “For goodness-sake, what are you eating?” Lorraine squinted at the carrot.

  “What does it look like?”

  “I know what it is. What I mean is why are you eating one this early?”

  “What? Is there a time limit on carrots? No carrots until noon? Do they have a curfew on celery too?”

  “Calm down. I’ve just never seen anyone eat them this early in the morning.” Lorraine sat on the couch and placed her Styrofoam cup on the table.

  “You want me to fit into my gown, don’t you? People used to tell me I had an hourglass figure, but now it’s more like a pocket watch. I just need to lose a few pounds.”

  Hesitating, Lorraine searched for the right words to tell Connie about Randy, but she could not find them.

  “I’m not wearing a girdle if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “That’s partly what I want to talk to you about,” Lorraine said, absently.

  “Excuse me?” Connie raised her eyebrows.

  “The gown. The wedding.” She took a deep breath then exhaled. “I broke my engagement with Randy.”

  Connie nearly coughed out her carrot. She slapped her chest with a frantic pat then pumped her arm like a train conductor all the while yelling, “Woo-woo! Look out Randy, here I come!” Connie quickly feigned a somber expression by propping her elbow on the table and cupping her chin in her hand, while scowling. “Seriously, Lorraine, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Lorraine twisted the cellophane off a sourball then popped it into her mouth. “That's it. We’re through. Remember what I told you at the café after we picked out my dress? Something just didn't fit right.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you? So this means he's really up for grabs?”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Hand me one of those sourballs to celebrate.”

  Lorraine knew that as long as Connie had the story there would be no need to tell anyone else. They'd get the whole kit-and-caboodle quicker than a sponge bath on a frosty morn.

  Rather than stop at the cafeteria for lunch, Lorraine took the elevator to Dylan’s floor instead. As the lighted numbers blinked above her head, she felt like a schoolgirl about to go on her first date. But in this case, the recipient of her affection wouldn't even know that she was there. So for now, she would check Dylan’s vitals and then sit and talk to him until her lunch break ended.

  She’d heard stories about people who'd come out of comas, and said they’d heard people talking in the room. It must be like being a prisoner in your own body, she surmised. If this was the case, she would do everything humanly possible to comfort Dylan right now. Her father was wrong. Dylan was different. He would never make a fool of her again. She smoothed her hair and took a deep breath then walked into Dylan’s room.

  “Hello,” the young woman said, as she sat next to Dylan, holding his lifeless hand. “I’m Denise.”

  Lorraine’s scalp prickled as though she’d just witnessed a terrible accident. It was the same hypnotic stare where you don’t want to look, but you can’t tear your gaze away because the sight is so horrific. She hesitated for a long moment, viewing the scene as though watching TV with the volume turned down. Oh...my...goodness! What am I going…to…do…now? Calm down. Breathe. Breathe. Okay, I'm here to check on a patient. Yes, that’s it. Good. Go over to the bed. She walked across the room and introduced herself. “My name is Lorraine. Lorraine Crawford.” Yeah, that’s it. My maiden name. The words squeezed from her constricted throat as she spoke and moved in slow motion, or so it seemed, as normal words and familiar noises sounded garbled in her ears.

  Lorraine checked the IV and monitor then studied Dylan’s chart, all the while observing the woman from the corner of her eye. She’s pretty that’s for
sure, even with red rimmed eyes, but why is she holding Dylan's hand? Lorraine cleared her throat and lightly doodled in the margin of the chart to make herself appear busy. And although she knew most of Dylan's family, she asked anyway. “Is Mr. Clark a family member?” Still doodling, Lorraine held her breath, waiting for the answer.

  “Oh, no,” Denise said, sniffling and dabbing her nose with a tissue, “but we see each other quite often. At least two or three times a week.”

  Lorraine raised her eyebrows ever so slightly while trying to remain calm. “Really?”

  “Um, hum. It’s been about four months now. He's such a wonderful man.”

  Lorraine's body stiffened. She didn't need some beautiful, young woman telling her what she already knew. She didn’t need to be reminded of the empty spot in her life that now seemed destined to remain there forever. What she needed to do was get out of there fast, and kick herself for being so gullible. “The doctor will be in shortly to check on Mr. Clark. Excuse me. I have to make my rounds. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Nice meeting you too.” Denise dabbed her eyes again.

  As soon as Lorraine cleared the doorway, the slow motion spell lifted as though a morning fog dissipated. She hurried down the hall to the women’s room where she pushed the door open. She bent down and checked under the stalls, finding only one pair of feet.

  While she waited, she turned on the faucet and wet her hands then patted water on her cheeks. She pulled a towel from the dispenser to wipe her hands and face.

  The woman exited the stall.

  Lorraine turned away from the woman’s view then dropped the paper towel in the metal canister. She walked into an empty stall, then after she heard the woman wash and leave, Lorraine exited the cubicle, and locked the bathroom door. When she was finally alone in the room, she leaned against the closed door and slowly slid onto the tiled floor. Raising her knees, she rested her arms on them while softly sobbing into her palms. “I hate you Dylan Clark,” she cried, but what she really meant was, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.

  TWENTY

  The monitor flat-lined and the screeching machine began its relentless call. Dylan looked down at his motionless body as two nurses rushed into the room. They moved like a fledglings about to take flight, as one pushed buttons and adjusted tubes around his motionless frame, while the other pushed down on his chest.

  What's all the commotion about? I'm all right. Dylan could see the entire room from his vantage-point, which he concluded was up near the ceiling. He felt no alarm while floating up there, as it seemed perfectly natural to be weightless. It was dark outside and the clock read nine-thirty. He saw a box of tissues on the nightstand and chairs in disarray near the bed, and the curtain that suddenly closed the commotion off from the rest of the room. Dylan’s mother stood to one side with her head bowed and eyes closed with lips moving in what seemed to be prayer. He watched and listened as backs hunched over and feet shuffled to a tune of agitated commands and startling alarms.

  And he saw his pale lifeless body in the midst of it all as the panicked staff ushered endless commands. The nurse pressed paddles on Dylan’s chest, the shock was given and his body jerked up from the bed. Then without warning, Dylan suddenly moved with great speed through space, as a pinprick of light blazed ahead, growing bigger and brighter as he whirred closer to it.

  Abruptly thrust into a new realm, a dazzling land stood before him, clear like crystal, yet so much more than he could have ever imagined. It was as though someone had thrown a great switch and turned on the lights after living in darkness for all of one’s life. Beautiful shrubs thick and lush studded the mossy landscapes. Flowers peeped up their happy faces amid the deep emerald grass, as though to say, Look here! Look at me! And look at me too!

  Dylan’s eyes roved and consumed the new beauty at every turn to fill him with wondrous delight in this glorious paradise. He looked at his hands as though they held some secret to this place, but then realized that he must be dead. But he couldn’t be! He’d never felt more alive! Heaven! I must be in Heaven! Oh, Lord, it’s so beautiful! And as he contemplated the celestial land, it seemed a sudden clarity was imparted to his thinking, for all was revealed to his mind as though a veil had lifted from it.

  For there ahead, a tremendous fortress surrounded a great city. And as he looked upon it, his thoughts propelled him forward of their own accord and rushed him nearer to it. The thickness of the walls alone were almost the size of a football field. And the length of each wall spanned the distance from north of New York to the tip of Florida, and its height was also the same. The walls were pure crystal like prisms on windows, where the light shines through to scatter rainbows at random. Yet this whole wall so pure and bright, cast rainbow light everywhere.

  Three pearled gates graced each wall, twelve of them in all, engraved with ancestral names. Each gate was guarded by radiant angels with great feathered wings that extended from head to foot. The foundation of the crystal walls were encrusted with glittering gems of garnet and rubies, topaz and emeralds, jade and sapphire and amethyst, all with facets perfectly cut and polished to perfection. The twinkling gems winked at him in a kaleidoscope of colors more beautiful than a princess’s tiara or jeweler’s showcase of bracelets and rings where the lights are just so, to reflect the brilliance of the stone’s radiance.

  There was so much to look at, so much to behold, that he felt if he blinked, he’d miss some wondrous sight. So he stood there in awe, enthralled by the magnificent sight shining out before him, as love and light radiated to every atom of his being. Dylan wanted to enter the pearled gates to feel the smooth rich textures, and to see the city ablaze with the amazing glory of God on His throne, and to abide in the marvelous light, but he was unable to approach the beautiful realm from where he stood.

  Yet, from a distance he could see inside the opened gate and through the crystal wall. Exquisite glints of golden light flashed like the brilliance of sunshine at midday, yet without the pain that sunlight inflicts when you look directly at it and squint.

  Clear gold like glass paved the streets.

  And a crystal river flowed.

  And trees heavy with fruit grew from both sides of the river's edge.

  And every bush, every flower beamed a palette of color and glittered an iridescent shine as it vibrated a heavenly melody.

  And the angels were singing! Oh! Can you hear them? They sound so beautiful!

  And they reverberated in song too wonderful to describe and silenced his tongue.

  All of his senses peaked to heights he aforetime thought impossible as his heart swelled to near bursting. What a glorious place Heaven was! What wondrous sights to behold! And he wanted to stay forever! Stay where his spirit soared like an eagle, and yet rested as a child in the soothing balm of love and light that enveloped him.

  A tickling sensation rolled within and spread through his spirit in waves. The spectacular lights glowed so beautifully that he wanted to gaze at them forever, to be absorbed by them, to become one with them. He wanted to walk in the golden city unhindered, unburdened and free and let Light saturate his entire being.

  But suddenly, in his peripheral vision, a person caught his eye. He tore his gaze from the city and gave his attention to a little girl holding a bouquet of flowers. Somehow, he knew that it was his daughter. She had Lorraine's wavy blonde hair, soft blue eyes, and pink dimpled cheeks. Oh, Lord, she’s so pretty!

  And just as he thought the thought, she began to speak, and said, “I heard you when you talked to me and told me about Mommy.” Dylan’s mouth slowly gaped open in astonishment at this announcement. Amanda continued and said, “You don’t have to be sad anymore about the accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. God had a plan that you couldn’t understand yet. See how happy I am here?” Dylan was overwhelmed by the gift that she’d just given him. He’d never known such peace, acceptance and forgiveness like he’d found in this entire place.

  “I will see you again l
ater, Daddy,” Amanda said, as she gently faded into the distance toward the golden city. And as he reached for her to say, don’t go!—an even greater sight captured his attention. A man wearing a long white robe suddenly appeared in her place. Jesus! Dylan bowed his head and his knees instinctively folded beneath him. And when he finally raised his head to look, the scenery had changed again. He now stood in huge courtroom where thousands upon thousands of people were gathered, and the Great Books were opened. High up on a platform, an angel pointed a grand finger and scanned it down the page. The finger stopped and the angel proclaimed in a thunderous voice that shook his entire being. “His name is in the Book of Life, Lord.”

  Suddenly, the curtained chamber of Dylan's heart was pulled back, and all things done in secret were revealed. His deeds flashed before him in what seemed but a moment as he viewed the reel of his life, naked and exposed for all to see. The happy, the sad, the good and the bad played out with stunning accuracy.

  Each time a sinful scene appeared, Jesus stretched his arms wide to block Dylan from God's judgment against sin. And he saw the scars! Look! There they are! Those beautiful nail-scarred hands of Jesus absorbing his sin and shame like a huge sponge, sopping up blood that should have been his, and grateful praise flowed from his lips.

  And each scene where Dylan lived within God's will by doing righteous deeds and loving other people, Jesus stepped aside to allow the full force of God’s love to flood Dylan’s soul until he nearly burst with joy. And as the heavenly theater played out his life story, he was shown the pivotal point that determined his eternal destination.

  Dylan knelt down and when he bowed his head, he prayed within his heart, Lord, I’m tired of going my own way. Please forgive me for all of my sins, and come into my heart and save me. Then Jesus took everything that happened before and after this crucial event, everything that fell outside of God's will, and held it up in his hands where every iniquity vanished! Poof! Gone! Evaporated like a vapor!