Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series) (22 page)

“You are such a liar, Jack.” Amusement twinkled in her blue eyes. “You went out of your way to take me out to dinner tonight. You said your conscience bothered you because you weren’t very nice on Saturday night. I think you want to be friends―maybe even more than friends, but you’re too stubborn and proud to admit it.”

“It’s a free country. You can think whatever you want.”

Allie didn’t say anything more and several minutes later, Zip brought their food.

“More coffee, Jack?”

“No. Bring me a beer.”

“Sure.” Zip looked at Allie. “Anything else for you?”

“Yes. You can call me cab. I’ll be finished eating by the time it arrives.”

“Um…yeah, sure.”

Jack hid his surprise at Allie’s request. But as it sank in, he considered the consequences. Zip, no doubt, would razz him about his “date” walking out on him for months to come. Worse, he’d tell all the guys and Jack would never live this one down.

“Forget the beer, Zip,” he ground out, hating the fact that he had to relent. “I don’t want the lady to think I drink and drive―I don’t.”

“I know you don’t, Jack,” Zip said. “One beer won’t hurt.”

“Naw, bring me a cola. And, Allie, I’ll drive you home whenever you want.”

Zip glanced at her and bent slightly forward. “Is that acceptable to you?”

To Jack’s relief she nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Zip left and Jack watched Allie pray over her food. Simultaneously, they lifted their utensils and began eating in silence, which proved a sort of torture because it left too much room for his thoughts.

“How’s the lasagna?” He realized it would serve him right if she threw the plate at him. That’d really give Zip something to talk about.

Instead, Allie tossed him a polite smile. “It’s good. How’s your veal?”

“Great. Just great.” As Allie set down her fork, Jack gave her an expectant glance.

“You know what? Misery is a choice. Just like happiness. Everyone has hard times in life, and―”

“Put a lid on it, Allie.” He took a bite of pasta and sauce. Maybe he should have let her take the cab and braved his buddies’ teasing.

Zip brought the cola. “Everything okay now?” He looked from Jack to Allie and they both nodded for lack of a better reply.

Once he left, she said, “Jack, there are a lot of people who want to love you and be close to you―including the Savior. Why don’t you let them?”

He gave her a quelling look, refusing to reply, and she wisely clamed up through the rest of their meal.

Once they finished, Jack tossed a few bucks on the table, paid the cashier, and waved a goodbye to Zip. Wordlessly, he and Allie walked out to his SUV.

On the way home, she didn’t speak and Jack didn’t bother trying to make polite conversation. Instead he occupied his mind by concentrating on driving Allie back to her hotel. After that, he made plans to go home alone and watch Monday Night Football.

He reached the hotel and pulled into a parking slip near the front entrance. When Allie didn’t move, he silently cursed. Opening his door, he climbed out and walked around the vehicle to play the proper gentleman. He pulled open her door and she held out her hand. He took it in order to help her from the SUV’s front seat. But he suddenly became aware of how soft and delicate her long fingers felt in his palm. Regret filled his soul. He shouldn’t have lashed out at her. She didn’t deserve his animosity. She had suffered over the years too.

“Sorry about tonight,” he muttered. “I’m a coldhearted guy, aren’t I?”

“Is that what you want me to think?”

Yes, he realized, that’s exactly what he wanted! He had taken Allie out tonight seeking answers, and he’d gotten them. But instead of closing off the trickling of his emotions, as he’d hoped, they’d brought on a steady stream. But if she hated him, that would dam up his feelings for good. He could deal with hatred and yet, in his heart of hearts, he had to admit that he yearned for quite the opposite.

He looked down at her hand, still in his. He rubbed his thumb across her fingers. Night had fallen, but the SUV’s cab light threw off a warm glow that matched the balmy September breeze.

“Oh, Allie, why’d you come back here? Don’t you know how much it hurts to see you again?”

“I didn’t want it to hurt, Jack. Please believe me. The whole point in coming back to Oakland Park was so I could tell you what God did in my life. You’re the one who led me to a saving knowledge of Christ. I thought you’d want to know.”

He lifted his gaze, peered into her upturned face. Moisture glistened in her eyes.

“I thought you’d be glad to see me.” An errant tear slipped down her cheek.

His calloused constitution all but dissolved. Pulling her forward, he gathered her into his arms. That one lonesome tear had amazing power. He was accustomed to seeing women cry. In the line of duty he’d answered calls ranging from domestic violence to an old woman’s cat stuck in a treetop. But Allie’s solitary tear seemed so much different.

Her hair smelled like a bouquet and, holding her in his arms he realized that in spite of her sturdy disposition, she seemed as fragile as fine porcelain. He hated the thought of her husband physically hurting her. It made him sick when he imagined the ugly scene in which the guy had cut her cheek.

“You should have called me, Allie. I should have called you.”

“No regrets, okay?” She gave him an affectionate squeeze.

“Regrets? That pretty much sums up my life.”

“No―”

“Yes! And as long as I’m confessing,” he murmured, his cheek against her temple, “you’re right. I lied earlier tonight. But I don’t know about being your friend, Allie…or anything more than your friend. Except that’s all I’ve been thinking about. Maybe I’m a nut-case as well as a liar.”

He heard her sniff before she pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. Then she stepped back, out of the embrace. “Maybe you’re just human.”

He supposed that might explain it.

“May I suggest that we both let go of the past, Jack? I’m saying this as much to myself as to you. We can’t change any of it. My prayer for you is that you’ll look to Christ again and that we’ll both trust Him with our futures.” She smiled up at him. “Like my son Nick always says, ‘The Christian life is an adventure.’”

Jack remained silent, but he recalled a time when he thought that same way.

A few awkward moments went by.

“I should go in,” Allie said at last.

He nodded.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“Sure.”

Jack watched her walk to the hotel where she disappeared into its well-lit lobby. Closing the door of the SUV, he made his way around to the other side and crawled back in behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he began his journey home.

* * *

Cynthia awakened with a start only to discover that she’d been dreaming again. While most times her dreams were a welcomed diversion from her bone-grinding pain, this one left her feeling troubled. In it, she was young again. Oh, that part didn’t disturb her. Not in the least. What bothered her was the man who had entered her dream.

There she sat on a summer afternoon, on the front porch steps of a quaint little home, bouncing an infant on her knee. He smiled and cooed. Putting a chubby finger in his mouth, the baby drooled all over her bare legs. She wiped the slobber away with the clean cotton diaper that she habitually kept over her shoulder in case more than spittle came out of his mouth. It was known to happen.

Then suddenly her first ex-husband stood in front of her. He wore his uniform, and she smiled because he looked so tall and handsome. But he didn’t smile back. Instead, he snatched the baby off her lap.

“Wait!” she cried. “Don’t take him.”

“He’s mine.” He turned his back on her. “You didn’t want him, remember?”

“But I do now.”

“Just look at you. You’re filthy.”

Glancing down, she realized what he said was true. She tried to brush off the dirt and grime that seemed to cover her from head to foot. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she sensed it was her fault.

“You’re an unfit mother.”

“Wait. Just give me another chance.” The words echoed in her head.
Another chance! Give me another chance
!

She woke up. Her hair, what was left of it after the chemotherapy two months ago, dripped with perspiration. Her skin felt clammy. Worse, she relived that maternal wrenching of her soul―

Just like when she had to give up her baby.

* * *

Logan walked into the apartment and found his dad sitting on the couch staring at the television set. The only problem was the TV wasn’t on.

“Yoo-hoo…” Logan waved his hand in front of his father’s face. “Anybody home?”

Dad slid his gaze to him. “Where have you been all night?”

“I have been the victim of a sneak attack.” He grinned at his dad’s concerned frown. “Marilee and her mother,” he explained. “The two of them ganged up on me tonight and I never even saw ‘em coming.”

Uncrossing his leg, Dad put his feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah, I can relate to those kinds of sneak attacks.”

“So they both start telling me why it’s impossible to plan a wedding in three months.” Logan felt a rant coming on. He’d lost fair and square and he determined not to be a sore loser. “I held my own until…” He sighed. “…until Marilee gave me one of those puppy-in-the-window looks. Then I knew it was all over.”

Dad grinned. “So when’s the wedding?”

Logan collapsed into the couch beside his dad. “End of May.”

“No Christmas wedding, eh? Your Aunt Nora will be disappointed. That’s all she could talk about this afternoon.”

“Nobody could be more disappointed than I am. Once I make up my mind about something, I don’t want to wait for it to happen.”

Dad chuckled.

Smiling, Logan stared at him. “When did you see Aunt Nora?”

“I stopped by earlier.”

“Guess I’d better call her tomorrow and tell her the bad news.” One thought led to another. “And I guess I’d better develop some backbone if I’m going to be the head of my household. I can’t let Marilee sweet talk me around every issue.”

“Good luck, kid.”

Sitting forward, Logan cocked his head. “What’s that s’pose to mean?”

“You’ve got a Bible. Read Genesis. Ever since Eve talked Adam into taking a bite of that apple, we men are downright vulnerable when it comes to that age-old female persuasion.”

“Bummer.”
Dad’s referencing the Bible?

“But, on the other hand, it does have its advantages. Sometimes it’s kind of fun being persuaded.”

“Maybe we’d better continue this conversation a little closer to my wedding date.” Logan thought the topic might lead them into dangerous waters. “I’ve got almost a year to wait.”

“Stay busy. It’ll go fast.” Dad dropped his head back against the couch. “All of a sudden you’ll be my age and you’ll wonder where all the time went.”

Logan studied his hands, dangling over his knees. “Is that what you’ve been sitting here thinking about? Where all the time went?”

“Not exactly.”

Dad gave him a speculative glance and Logan debated whether to say more.

Finally, he did. “I had dinner with Allie tonight and I learned that she sent me a letter years ago, shortly after she left Oakland Park. She wanted to get back together, but I never got the letter.” Dad closed his eyes. “Allie thinks God lost it on purpose, and all for good. But, to me, it seems like a cruel joke on God’s part. I loved her so much.”

Compassion tweaked Logan’s soul while anger gripped his heart. In so many words, Dad just wished away his very existence.

“You know, I hate to say it, but I’m going to anyhow.” Logan clasped his hands. “You’re sounding like a selfish man, Dad. I mean, think of that classic old movie
It’s a Wonderful Life
and consider for a moment how many people wouldn’t be here today―or would be in hell right now―if you were God.”

Dad scowled. “Get down from your high horse for a sec, Logan, and try to imagine how I feel.”

“You’re pining over a past that never was,” he shot back. “You’re feeling sorry for yourself. What’s to imagine?”

Logan stormed from the den, struggling to keep his resentment in check. Reaching his bedroom, he stepped inside, turned on the light, and closed the door behind him, fighting the urge to give it a good slam.

Lord, I feel like I’m an angry teenager again, I feel like going back into the other room and starting a major argument.
Logan squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, resisting the desire to rail on his dad.
Keep me from doing that, Heavenly Father. It’ll ruin everything I set out to accomplish by moving in with him. Help me turn the other cheek and show him Christ-like love.

The moments ticked by and suddenly a calm settled over Logan―a calm mingled with contrition. Was he really so insecure that he’d overreacted to Dad’s admission? So he’d been in love with Allie. Big deal. That wasn’t much of a surprise. Logan had suspected it from the first night she came to town. But, perhaps, his aggravation―and his hurt―stemmed from the fact that he was a product of the past his father condemned. Logan wished it wasn’t true, but it was. And he wished he could accept it, but he couldn’t.

So many wishes…

Walking to the window, Logan pulled open the blinds and peered out at the star-strewn sky
. Lord, You can turn the hearts of kings. Surely You can turn my dad’s.
After a moment’s pause, he added
, And mine too.

Chapter Seventeen

Satisfied, Allie walked out of a two hour meeting with the supervisors on each floor of Arbor Springs. They had accomplished more than she’d hoped this afternoon. Heading to her office, she glanced at her watch and realized it was almost time to wrap up the day. As she pulled out her briefcase and began packing up paperwork that she intended to work on tonight, the phone rang. Would it be Jack?. She hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days. Had anything good come out of their dinner “date” Monday night?

She lifted the receiver. “This is Allison Littenberg.”

“Hi, Allie. It’s Colleen.”