Strains of Silence

by Strains of Silence (retail) (epub)

  Lenka snapped to. Sweet. She would avoid discussing Zan.

  “Nice of him,” Tatuś said as he poured water.

  “He’s actually volunteered to help out four afternoons a week.”

  “My goodness.” Mama offered Kasia the bread plate.

  They prayed, and then Lenka tossed her a napkin. “You’ll love working with Kyle.”

  “I’m sure. He met a few of the kids this afternoon and played a little pickup basketball before we left. They were killing him, but he took it well.”

  Her dad laughed quietly as he chewed.

  “I can’t imagine little kids beating him that badly,” Lenka said.

  Kasia shrugged and reached for the butter. “It may have been a bit exaggerated, but from what I saw, he was awful.” She smiled at the mental image.

  “He just let them win.”

  Kasia smiled. “Maybe.” She was thankful no one asked if she’d seen Blake on her first day out alone.

  26

  Zan sat in the back-corner booth, sketched Bailey as he wanted to remember her. Her sun-warmed smile on the back of the boat, peaceful, content. He drew until his meal came and then put his pad and pencils away. If he got grease on the drawing, he’d kick himself.

  He wolfed down the burger and wiped his hands. His head was packed—not just with thoughts of Bailey.

  This idea of a “loving God” wasn’t easy to reconcile with what he’d seen happen to his sister. He snagged another napkin, began to write. His thoughts rambled and his hand cramped, but by the time his cell rang, he’d filled three napkins front and back.

  “It’s eight. Feel like a movie, or no?” Jayce asked.

  “Sure. Meet me at the room in a few?”

  “Yup. I’m here. I’ll wait for ya.”

  Zan paid and packed the napkins in his bag. They’d make interesting reading later. He felt like he was actually getting somewhere.

  Ten minutes later, he jogged up the stairs. Jayce had the music cranked up, so Zan could hear it in the hall. When Zan opened the door, Jayce stood beside his loft, white drumsticks in hand, drumming out the beat on his mattress…and the ladder, and the wall. The corner of the room had become his drum set.

  Zan let the door close with a thud. Jayce turned and grinned. He tossed his drumsticks on the bed and turned down the music. “Glad you’re gonna go with us.”

  Zan’s cell buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Tasha. Why was she calling? He silenced his phone and set it on the dresser. “Girl I used to date.”

  “So ya don’t answer.”

  “We knew each other in Charleston—different high schools but same social circles. After graduation, we ran into each other at a party, and I couldn’t say no. We had one real intense summer, both left for school, and it was over. That fast.”

  “You miss her?”

  “Not. At. All. I might’ve last year, but—I don’t know.” He gazed up at the ceiling. “Sometimes I’m surprised at myself when I think about who I was. I’m just—different somehow. Not sure why.”

  “Interesting.”

  “What?” McEwan shouldn’t just analyze his life.

  “Listen, ah, I’m not about makin’ you uncomfortable,” Jayce said. “Just sounds like you’ve had some heavy things goin’ on this year. That’ll change somebody.”

  How did he know?

  Jayce answered the unvoiced question. “You seemed a little keyed up when your ma called.” Jayce knocked on the side of his mattress. “Know I’m prayin’ for ya about it. Whatever it is.”

  Oddly, that opened the floodgates. Friends who were honestly interested in him—more than his errors in the last game, more than splitting a case of brews—were new to him.

  “My sister, Bailey, woke up from a medically induced coma this afternoon. Her ex-husband put her there, because I got to her too late.”

  Jayce’s eyes burned with intensity. He wiped his mouth with a fist. “What happened? He beat her?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jayce sniffed and Zan eyed his hand—clenched and unclenched. Repeat. It obviously cost Jayce some effort to speak calmly. “How’d it go down?”

  “She stepped out of a café while I paid, and he was waiting for her. Pulled her into an alley and let loose.”

  Jayce turned his back on Zan and thrust his fists at his desk. Zan stood quietly, wondered what was up. Finally, Jayce spoke. “Sorry. Let’s just say I can relate.” He faced Zan again, arms crossed over his chest. “What’d you do?”

  “I went after her. Ran up and saw him punching and kicking the life out of her, and I lost it. Snapped. Pulverized him. Couldn’t even see straight, man. I don’t know what I might’ve done to him if Bay’s voice hadn’t broken through.”

  “She stopped you?” Jayce asked, eyebrow quirked.

  “This weak little voice…” Zan’s eyes stung. “She said, ‘Please. Stop.’ What could I do? I left him in a heap and held on to Bailey until the cops got there. I was afraid she wouldn’t make it.”

  Jayce’s gaze dropped. He spoke softly. “She’s fine though?”

  “Alive. Awake. But who knows if she’ll ever get out of her wheelchair? I testify against the scum in two weeks.”

  Jayce nodded. Glanced at the ink on his arm. “Justice. He’ll get what’s coming to him. One way or another.” His phone rang.

  While Jayce talked, Zan wondered about that statement.

  Jayce set the phone down and said, “A.J.’s raggin’ on me. Says I make everybody late. How ’bout that movie?”

  Zan laughed humorlessly and grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go.”

  ~*~

  “Are you cool with A.J. driving out to Frankie’s alone this late?” Zan asked. They’d gotten out of the movie around midnight.

  Jayce sat on the chair by the door to take his boots off. He looked up. “No, but it’s the last night.”

  “You worry about her out there?”

  “I try not to, but it’s hard. I mean, I know she’s careful and whatnot, but I don’t trust all the shady characters. Gotta trust her though. And I gotta trust God with her.”

  Zan grabbed the baseball off his dresser and tossed it into the air, caught it as he talked. “That’s not a sure thing, man. God lets good people get hurt.”

  “He allows it, yeah. But He can use it too. God can bring wholeness to anyone. Your sister, Zan. God can bring her back even stronger.”

  “Why does He allow people to suffer at all though?”

  Jayce propped his arms on his knees. “I think you got the wrong question, Zander.”

  “What do you mean?” Toss, catch, toss, catch.

  “The way God made everything in the beginning—it was perfect. People did the one thing He asked ’em not to, though, and sin hit the world like a wrecking ball. Now everybody hurts everybody else. People are all messed up, lookin’ out for number one, oblivious to the pain right next to ’em. Think about it. The right question is why doesn’t God just let us all go to hell where we belong? Why did He do what He did to make a way out?”

  Zan held the ball and sat on his bed.

  “I mean, seriously. He’s perfect. Holy. Won’t tolerate sin in His presence, and every one of us deserves hell. But He sent Jesus—the part of Himself who could walk among us, suffer like us—to earth. Jesus shook things up and laid His own life on the line—willingly. Why do that?”

  Zan pointed around the ball. “That right there. Why would God kill His own Son?”

  “There was no other way, man. It’s who He is. He’s all love, completely just, and crazy merciful. Those parts of His character are all intertwined. Ya don’t get one without the others. So, His justice was satisfied with Christ’s death, and His heart of love is satisfied when people take Him up on His offer. The mercy part is what blows me away—that it’s for somebody like me. But I’m not gonna turn my back on it, ya know?”

  “Even if He allows you or the people you love to suffer.” Zan tossed Jayce the ball.

  Jayce caught it, and
his eyes never wavered. “Even then.”

  Zan sat there for a while, and Jayce let him. He actually got what Jayce was saying. If there were some other way to save the world and God had just sent His Son to die, then Zan couldn’t stomach it. But if there wasn’t…

  Still. “All right, let’s say I decide to trust Him myself. I’ll have to be willing to risk whatever He allows me to suffer. But what about Bailey? How can I be good with Him letting her get hurt? Or this other girl I know. Kasia.”

  “Somethin’ happen to Kasia?”

  “Kasia Bernolak. You know her?”

  “Yeah. What happened?”

  “I ran into her today after practice. What’s up with this Blake guy?”

  Jayce squinted. “She told you about him, or he was there?”

  “He was with her when I came out, but he took off.”

  “Pshhh. Guy’s an absolute wuss. He’s all threatnin’ and whatnot when she’s alone, but try to have a little man-to-man, and he’s outta there faster than a Yankees fan in the middle o’ Southie. Jerk’s never hung around long enough to look me in the eye. Was, ah, was Kasia good?”

  “After a while. We talked a little.”

  “She’s a cool character.” Jayce spun the chair around and sat down, used its back as an armrest. “What’d ya talk about? ’f ya don’t mind my asking.”

  “Not much. Just got her some hot tea while we waited for her boyfriend to show up.”

  Jayce’s head jerked back almost a foot. “Boyfriend?”

  “Kyle, right? He met her to go somewhere, and they seemed…I just assumed.”

  Jayce laughed. Hard. “Well, I guess it depends who ya ask. Kyle would flippin’ love to hear ya say that, but Kasia’s never seemed to be real interested.”

  “Oh.” Zan chewed the inside of his cheek to keep his smile under wraps. Because it wouldn’t be as complicated to keep an eye out for her now.

  Jayce’s eyebrow was cocked in a silent “I saw that.”

  Zan dropped back on his bed and stared at the squares in the ceiling. “Seriously, man. I’m one thing, but Kasia and Bailey? Someone won’t always be there to step in and rescue them, you know?”

  “There’s no trustin’ God halfway, Zander. If ya trust Him, ya gotta trust Him with all of it. Either He’s God or He’s not, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “My sister was real scared before she died.” Jayce set the baseball on the floor.

  Zan turned so he could see Jayce. “How old were you?”

  “Ten. I don’t remember everything, but I remember that. She’d been looking over her shoulder for weeks. I asked her what was chasin’ her. She never told me. Then she was gone.”

  “How did she die?”

  “Murdered. They found her in an alley. Called it overdose, but we all knew better.”

  “So nobody ever got arrested for it?”

  “Nah. Me and my old man wrestled with that for years—each in our own way. What finally got me to come around was knowin’ one way or another, whoever hurt Nora will get their justice. Either here on earth, or—if they never cry mercy—then in hell. For a while, I loved thinking about ’em in hell, but…I don’t want that for anybody anymore. If I can experience God’s mercy, anybody can.”

  Zan had to let that sink in for a minute. “Wait. What about earlier? You looked like you were ready to start taking names and cracking skulls. And now you’re good with your sister’s murderer in heaven one day?”

  Jayce laughed. “Well, I’m not gonna lie to ya. I’m willin’ to throw my hands when I need to. There’s some things you gotta fight for. But that doesn’t mean I want the guy to go to hell. Don’t forget—I deserve hell too.”

  “You’re a better man than me.”

  “Does Bailey trust God?” Jayce asked.

  Zan studied his hands. “Yeah.”

  “She angry at Him?”

  “No. And somehow—at least before—she was able to forgive Michael for all his abuse.” He kicked off his shoes and tossed them in the corner of his closet. “I bet she’ll forgive him for this too.”

  After a minute Jayce spoke. “She’s strong.”

  “She is.” Zan took a deep breath. “And smart. But I’ve never gotten why she stayed. Why she always believed him when he said he was sorry. One side of me wishes she’d killed him a long time ago, and the other knows how wrong that is, right as the words come out of my mouth. It’s different for her now though,” he said. “She doesn’t turn a blind eye to it like she used to, but she’s freer—in her heart anyway.”

  Zan went quiet as he thought about his sister.

  Bailey sure was restricted physically—couldn’t even open her mouth at the moment. But nobody who talked to her could miss her joy and peace.

  “I wish I could feel freedom like her.” Zan scraped at a hangnail.

  “What’s holding ya back?”

  He should’ve expected McEwan to call him on that.

  27

  “Tatusiu, I’m about to pour a glass of ice water. Want some?” Kasia leaned against the doorframe of her new bedroom.

  In her new apartment. So much better than the dorm.

  He slid his pencil behind his ear and set down the level. “Nie. Dzięki.” He tugged a screw from his pocket. “How are we on time?” Strong muscles moved in his arm as he turned the screwdriver, made a hole for one of the anchors. Her corner shelf rested on the floor a few feet away.

  “A.J. said eleven. They should be here any minute.”

  She and Tatuś had already brought in all her boxes and moved the university-issued furniture in her bedroom around so she’d have room for her freestanding bookcase. The one he’d built her for her tenth birthday.

  Her favorite piece of home.

  The scent of spiced pear from her three-wick candle permeated the air of the apartment. Her clothes were put away, her bed made, and a few photos strategically placed. Maybe decorating with A.J. would lead to honest conversation.

  Kasia padded into the kitchen and pulled down her Far Side mug from the cabinet. Her ice popped and cracked as she added cold water from the faucet.

  The front door opened. “Move-in day!”

  A.J. bounced over and greeted Kasia with a hug. She glanced around. “Is your dad here? That’s his truck outside, right?”

  Tatuś stuck his head into the hallway. “Hey, A.J. I’m hanging a shelf, but I’d love to get Jayce’s help with that bookcase I left in the truck bed.”

  “Jayce’s roommate is down there too, so I’ll just have them bring it up.”

  “Sounds great.” He pointed at Kasia. “Curly-Q, help me hang the corner shelf, dobrze?”

  She joined him, avoided the desk in the middle of the floor. Raised her end of the piece over her head, supported it as he guided it into the corner.

  “Keep it level. We’re aiming for an inch above the anchors.”

  With a steady hand, her dad touched the shelf to the back wall. They eased it to her left—

  “Hey, Auburn,” Zan said. “Where do you want this monster?”

  Clunk. The mounting bracket bonked her head. “Oj, sorry, Tatusiu.” How in the world is Zan here?

  “Are you all right?” Tatuś peeked beneath the walnut plank.

  She cleared her throat and pointed toward the window. “You can set it against the wall by the window, please.”

  Zan backed into her room and Jayce came around the corner.

  She turned back to her dad.

  His eyes were such an all-seeing blue. “Let’s get this mounted so I can meet your friend.”

  Right. Of course. Lifting her end, she noticed the bracket had scraped the wall a little. Neither of them mentioned it. As soon as they had the shelf firmly mounted, Tatuś strode over to the guys.

  “What’s good, Mr. B.?” Jayce said. “Zan, this is Kasia’s dad, Pastor Bernolak.”

  Zan wiped his hand on his shorts and reached out. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Kasia’s stomach clenched. If he mention
ed Blake, Zan could ruin everything.

  ~*~

  Whoa. Kasia’s dad had a grip and a half.

  “Have you known Kasia long?”

  Zan glanced over at Kasia. She tensed at the question.

  Zan squeezed back. “I met her last year, and we keep running into each other.”

  Kasia’s shoulders relaxed. What was she nervous about?

  Zan met Mr. Bernolak’s eyes. A pastor. Zan stood there with no doubt that he wasn’t worthy of her father’s stamp of approval. For multiple reasons. But he was better than the last loser, and he ached to make a good impression.

  Kasia’s dad released his gaze and turned to move Kasia’s desk into the corner underneath the shelf, so Zan picked up the other end.

  “Thanks. Listen, gentlemen, I appreciate your willingness to do the heavy lifting. Let me help unload A.J.’s things before I head home.”

  Jayce clapped his hands together. “Not gonna turn down extra manpower. Let’s make short work of this and get somethin’ to eat.”

  Pastor Bernolak slipped into a pair of shoes at the door. Zan couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father in jeans, much less barefooted.

  “What’s Kyle doing today?” her dad asked. “I thought we’d get to see him.”

  Kyle.

  Jayce jogged down the steps in front of everybody. “He’s got a shift at the station.”

  “Tell him he was missed.” So Kyle was Pastor B.’s pick. This wouldn’t be an easy win.

  Jayce and Pastor Bernolak caught up like long-lost friends.

  Probably because Jayce and A.J. were so serious. No threat from Jayce’s end. Zan couldn’t fault the man for being protective—even skeptical—of new guys. Zan would be the last guy to jeopardize Kasia’s safety, to hurt her. He was on the same page as her dad there. Besides, he was still sort of reeling from the whole Kasia-was-almost-married thing. As much as he thought of her—wanted to be around her—there was a whole lot he didn’t know.

  Still, she attracted him more than he knew how to handle.

  Kasia was a mystery he wanted to solve.

  He stretched his shoulders and back, took in the overall impression of the girls’ place. A funky piece of A.J.’s artwork here and there, candles and books all over. Kasia stuck colored cards to cabinet doors, windows, the fridge. Eyeing a purple one in her hand, she walked back to her bedroom.