by Kathryn Shay
“Why would she do that?”
“Because I tried more than once to tell her. She didn’t want to spoil the night.”
“Wouldn’t she have accepted you? Didn’t she?”
He had to clear his throat. “No. I was right about that. She said we couldn’t be together.”
“Hey, you two, food’s out.” His mother came to the doorway. “Unless you…”
“We’ll be right in,” his dad said then turned back to him. “Tell me more.”
“No, not now. I can’t. I’m going in.”
Once inside, the scent of turkey reminded him of the cottage again. His body sagged. But he had responsibilities today, so he couldn’t go somewhere and curl up in a ball like he’d done that night. He entered the large room set with tables and chairs and into the midst of his congregants, who milled around waiting for him. “Let’s all pray together.” He bowed his head. “Creator God, be with us today as we share fellowship and friendship on Thanksgiving. We are so grateful to you that we’re together on this special day. Stay with us so that we can do Your will. Amen.”
Herman Holland, a tall imposing man and the chair of the elders in the church, approached him as the others formed a line to get food. “Hey, there, Rev. What was all that about doing God’s will?”
“What do you mean?”
“Our church theology doesn’t support the idea that God has a path for us.” Herman was only a few years older than Brady, but much wiser in some things.
“Um, maybe I phrased that badly.”
He clapped Brady on the back. “You all right? Even at our meeting the other night, you seemed off.”
“I’m feeling off, Herman.”
“Have you shared why with your pastoral relations committee?”
“No. I’m sorry, I need some time to sit with it.”
“All right. No pressure. Just remember what you preach.”
“What’s that?”
“Internal conflict will eat away at you unless it’s shared with others.” Herman walked away.
Brady had been wrong about that. No one could help him. He needed to deal with this by himself.
I’m totally offended by that, buddy. And no, I’m not back. You’re the one who’s been missing in our relationship. But you and I are going to have a long conversation soon.
Of all those who showed concern for him since he was with Lynne, God was the one he wanted to talk to the least.
Too damn bad, son!
Great, now he had God cursing.
* * *
Later in the day, Carlton Matthews sought Brady out. “This was an atrocity. I miss the sanctity of the fellowship hall and our usual Thanksgiving dinner.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” In actuality, he was sorry about a lot of Carlton’s behavior.
“You didn’t get Adam to come.”
“I tried. He refused, Carlton. I told you that.”
“You’re his pastor. You should have shamed him into obeying his parents.”
“I disagree with that. But I’m sorry you’re hurt by it.”
Once again, Matthews stalked away. At least the curmudgeon’s complaints gave him something else to think about. His talk with Adam barely contained any discussion of today. He’d asked the boy to come to his office…
“I hear you’re not going to our cabin party Thanksgiving.”
“Nope.”
“Can I ask why?”
“I’m sick of pretending. I don’t believe in all this church stuff. No offense, Rev, you’re cool, but the rest isn’t for me.”
“Lots of teens feel that way. You do what you have to do.”
Adam flushed.
“Is anything else going on?”
“I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want to answer either.”
“All right. But know I’m here regardless of what you do, or don’t do.”
“Thanks, Rev…
He’d struck out on that one, too. It only increased his sense of guilt.
* * *
Brooke stared out at Nathan’s kindergarten class. She was happy to be here, happy that she’d gotten through the holiday and was back at work.
Nathan joined her at the front of the room. “Cuties, aren’t they?”
“They are. You give them a few minutes to socialize before you start lessons?”
“Yeah, to get it out of their systems. I’m also waiting for two older students from different schools to come in and assist. Part of an inter-school effort to become more unified.”
“That’s cool.” She gestured toward the door. “Um, One’s here. Oh, look, it’s Melody, Lynne’s daughter.”
“Yeah, she asked if she could be the student from her school.”
In the last few weeks, Melody had moved up to Crystal City, lock stock and barrel, not wanting to be around Mary, Ken’s fiancée. Mel was a lovely girl, inside and out. Resembling Lynne mostly, she had the slim build of a ballerina.
Brooke approached her. “Hey, there, sweetie.”
“Hi, Brooke. Is it okay I’m here? I’m new to the school, but they let me come anyway.”
“Of course it’s okay. You have…” She trailed off when another girl came down the hallway with a monitor. When she got close, Melody turned.
“Emma? Oh wow, Emma, it’s you.” They hugged, warmly. “This is great.”
“I’m so glad to see you.”
Brooke said, “Hello, Emma. I’m Chief Cartwright.”
The girl smiled pleasantly. “I’m Emma Jamison.” Lynne had told her about the girl.
He has a daughter who Melody bonded with. They want to get together again but both Brady and I don’t think we’re ready for our families to become entangled.
She hoped Lynne didn’t get upset about their meeting today. And what kind of kismet was this that the two children would come in contact, despite their parents’ reluctance?
Nathan approached the doorway. “Hello, ladies.” He knew Melody, of course, but not Emma, who introduced herself again plainly and politely. It was then she noticed the similarity of two girls’ looks: blond hair, braided, and the same bone structure.
Nathan asked, “Are you familiar with the lesson on Fire Safety?”
“Uh-huh. We had it in kindergarten,” Emma said.
“I had it too, even though I’m not from here.”
“Great. I’ll introduce you.” Nathan called for the kids to sit on the floor mat at their usual places. Then he said, “We have a special treat today.”
One of the kindergarteners raised his hand. “Is that the fire lady?”
Brooke laughed. “Yep, I am.”
Another hand. “Aren’t those girls too young to be firefighters?”
Nathan answered that one. “Those girls are Melody and Emma, from other schools in our district. They’re here to help you learn about what to do if there’s a fire in your house.”
With owl eyes, the students silenced right away.
Brooke intervened. “The chances of your houses catching fire are very small, but you need to know some things. Let’s start with making a fire plan with your family. Has anyone done that?”
No kindergarteners.
Both older girls nodded. Of course, Lynne had taken care of that. But she was glad to see Lynne’s friend Brady had done so, too. Briefly she wondered if he’d made a plan and practiced it for the church. Brooke shook off the notion and concentrated on the kids.
“I have some signs here for you to take home. You put these up in the windows….”
* * *
Lynne had finished painting the kitchen in a color Tess picked out, took a shower and poured some coffee to wait for Melody to get back from school. When she had to work, she’d enlisted the help of a woman David knew well from down the street. A widow at sixty, Pamela was energetic and willing.
She heard the gears of the bus grinding to a halt on the pavement. Grabbing her coat, she went outside and walked down the driveway. She was shivering in the cold but she li
ked to be right at the stop when her little girl got off.
Melody approached her and threw her arms around Lynne, even in front of her friends. Lynne would rue the day that her daughter stopped doing that. “Hi, Mom.” Hmm, when had that happened? She’d been Mommy up until now.
“Hi, sweetie.”
They walked up the path to David’s house, hand-in-hand. Once in the mud room off the garage, they took off their coats, hung them on a hook and Mel put her backpack in the little cupboard below.
At the kitchen table, Mel settled with already made hot chocolate. “I saw Emma today.”
Lynne’s face blanked.
“Remember the girl from Halloween? We saw her father at the pizza place, too.”
“Yeah, I remember her. And him. She doesn’t go to your school, does she?”
“Nope, remember she lives on the other side of the city.”
“Did you meet her in Nathan’s classroom?”
“Uh-huh. We want to play now.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, after school. She said I could go to her house.”
“Sweetie, we can’t make plans that fast.”
Instead of getting mad, Melody’s asked, “Mom, don’t you like Emma and Brady?”
Hell. “I like them fine. You know I prefer to make plans ahead of time.”
Melody watched her. “What are we gonna do then?”
“Talk about your day. Maybe play in the snow.”
“Those aren’t plans.”
“I guess not.”
“Then I can go to Emma’s. She gave me her father’s number to call him and make sure you said yes.”
She’d have to talk to Brady? The thought made her insides hurt.
“Mom? Here’s the number.” Her daughter held out the paper. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change.”
Lynne needed to snap out of all this. Nearly five days had passed since they’d been together at the cottage. She grasped the paper. “All right, sweetheart. This once.”
“Okay. We can plan our playdate, next time.”
Lynne gulped back the emotion which welled inside her.
* * *
Brady had just locked the door to his office to go home when his cell phone rang. Slipping it out of his pocket, he clicked on. “Brady Jamison.”
“Hi, Brady. It’s Lynne.”
He hadn’t checked the caller ID. He wasn’t ready for this. He choked out, “H-how are you?”
“I’ve had a rough time. You?”
“Very rough.”
“I’m not calling about…us.”
“No?”
“It’s about our girls.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“They met up at a school thing today. Didn’t she tell you?”
“My mother’s staying with her. I’m on my way home to spend some daylight hours with her.”
“Well, our daughters made plans to get together after school. I’m supposed to bring Mel to your house. What should we do?”
His heart knocked in his chest. “Emma will be disappointed if we don’t allow this.”
“Melody’s already talked me out of canceling.”
“Come over, then. We’ll fake our way through things.”
“All right.”
“It’ll be okay, honey.”
As Brady drove home, the wipers swishing away the light snow, he wondered why this happened. He’d sulked for nearly a week, but was finally coming out of his depression. He’d finally had that long talk with God, and he was feeling better. God told him he had to reconcile the fact that he’d hurt Lynne.
Once inside the house, he barely got his coat off before Emma came out of the kitchen and threw herself at him. “Hey, Daddy. Did Melody’s mom call you?”
“She did. They’ll be right over.”
Belinda Jamison hugged her son. “She has a new friend.”
“I heard.” He knelt down in front of his little girl. “I thought we were supposed to play together today.” His afternoons with her, when he could get away, were precious to him.
“We still can after she leaves. You can do work in your office. Or, when we go outside, you can come and play in the snow with us.”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
Fifteen minutes later, after his dad picked up his mom, he was sipping coffee, staring blindly at the backyard, while Emma waited at the living room window. The front bell finally rang.
His daughter bolted to the door. Brady was behind her when she opened it. Melody and Lynne stood on the porch, wearing matching parkas of hot pink and similar hats and gloves. “Emma!” The girls hugged.
“Come on in. You come, too, Mrs. Lucas.”
“Is it all right?” she asked Brady.
“Sure. I made coffee if you’d like some.”
After Mel took off her outer clothing, the girls went upstairs. He hung their coats up in the front closet, took Lynne’s and smiled. “The outfits are adorable.”
“She saw them on Amazon and Melody begged for them.”
“Let’s go out back.” She followed him to the kitchen as she had nearly a month ago. Only everything was different now. He went to the counter, poured coffee and gave it to her. They sat at the table.
He said, “So.”
“So. Our daughters. What do you think?”
“Emma’s a doll. But lately, when she gets something in her head, she’s stubborn about it. She’s nagged me to see Melody again and again. Them being together is out of our hands, now.”
“I know. I’ve been spoiling Melody since she moved in with me. I’m so grateful to have her.”
“Phillip’s still in Dannerville?”
“Yeah, but it’s not going well. Ken called and bitched that our son wasn’t nice enough to Ken’s girlfriend.”
“What’d you do?”
“I hung up on him.”
Brady chuckled. “A wise idea.”
“Phillip’s determined to stay in Dannerville until the end of the semester.”
“Is there a chance he won’t move up?”
“I doubt it. Ken wants to get rid of him.”
“Now, I’m sure he’s a fool. He let you go and he’ll let his kid go, too.”
“Tell me about you.”
“I survived the week.” His throat clogged. “I didn’t think I would.”
“Same here. I’m hanging on, though.”
“I wish—”
“Dad,” he heard up the back staircase. “Can you make us hot chocolate and popcorn?”
“In a minute.” He faced Lynne. “Don’t leave yet.”
“I won’t. I can make the cocoa and you deal with the snack.”
They worked in companionable silence. When they finished, she asked, “Where are mugs?”
He turned, observed her at his stove.
She pivoted when he didn’t answer.
“I want you here in my house like this.” He could hear the longing in his voice.
“I feel the same.”
He drew in a breath, let it out. She crossed to him. Looped her arms around his neck. His hands slid to her waist. He was engulfed in the feel of her against him. In the flowery scent of her hair. Neither explained the hug. By mutual consent, they finally parted.
He stared down at her.
She gazed into his eyes.
And then the kids came bursting in.
Chapter 7
* * *
Firefighting in the dead of night at the end of November sucked big time. Lynne had the thought as they sped to the scene at 3 a.m. A church fire, which everybody hated. She had a special reason now for the way her pulse sped up. Ludicrously, she thanked Brady’s God the church wasn’t his.
When they dismounted the rig, her eyes burned from the smoke—smoke that smelled funny. Coming down hard, snowflakes fell on her face. They stung.
The captain on Truck 2 had already assumed Incident Command as they were first-in. “This okay wi
th you?” Tim Daniels asked Zander.
“Of course. Where do you want us?”
“Lay a line in through the main entrance.” He scowled. “Man, I hate church fires.”
“I hear you. The smoke smells odd.”
“I reported that. As you spray, check for signs of arson. I already called in the arson squad.”
Zander gave orders to his crew. “Loder, take the hose in. Lucas, behind him. Blackfeather and I’ll follow. Braxton make sure there’s water.”
They found the Truck guys who would conduct search and rescue waiting at the door. After securing their SCBAs, a parade of firefighters entered the foyer. Lynne took a chance and switched on the lights. They still worked. A good sign. Zander ordered, “Turn right. To the narthex.” Church terminology. They went through the two, heavy fire doors.
No fire here. She pulled open the door to the sanctuary for Loder to bring the hose, then followed him inside. Again, she turned on the lights. High-ceilings arched above her with wooden beams that matched the wooden pews. “It’s on the altar,” Loder called into the radio.
The smoke was gray, but getting darker. Loder and Lynne hurried to the front. “I need water,” Loder called into the radio. When the hose bucked, he pulled back the nozzle. A powerful stream spewed out and the fire was doused within minutes. Charred, wet wood spit and cracked. Brady would say it was the grace of God that kept the blaze from spreading.
“Anybody in there?” Daniels asked over the radio.
“Nobody visible,” Davidson, a truckie, answered. “We’ll go through the pews now.” A necessary precaution even in the middle of the night.
“We’ll assist,” Zander added.
Like clockwork, they formed a grid and began to search.
Painstakingly, the group began to crawl down under each pew. “Loder and Lucas, check behind the altar. There’s usually rooms there.”
One of them held the pastor’s garments. The second contained a large tub. For baptism, she guessed.
Still holding the hose, Loder said, “Hell, Cap, there’s a broken window here.”
“See if there are signs of accelerants.”
A few minutes later, he added, “Stray rags. Some son-of-a-bitch lit the fire.”
