Healing Tides (12 page)

“I hope you have a bunch of your own kids someday. You’re a born mother.”

“I think that’s a ways off, but I hope so, too.” Glory’s laugh caught in her throat as she turned, saw Jared’s face. His stare bored into her, through her, his eyes glacial chips. “I’m sorry if I made you wait,” she apologized.

“You didn’t.”

They walked to the car without further conversation. He drove silently, perhaps a little too fast, his face like chiseled granite.

Glory held her peace as long as she could but finally blurted out, “Is something wrong?”

“What?” He jerked out of his stupor, twisted his head to look at her, though she couldn’t read his expression because of the dark sunglasses. “I’m fine.”

“If you say so. Are you going to be tied up with your meetings all day long? I’m only asking,” she hurried to explain, “because I wondered if you want to meet for lunch. Of course, I have my cell phone, so if—”

“I’m not sure how it will work out but I anticipate being there all day.”

“Oh.” Shut down, Glory leaned back in her seat and studied the lush countryside.

After several moments Jared let out a pent-up breath.

“I’m going to a hearing. For Viktor.”

Glory caught her breath at his bitter tone.

“He’s apparently remorseful, they think maybe even suicidal. The place where he’s been serving his time hasn’t the medical care he needs, so they want to move him to a lower-security facility.”

“Which you don’t want.”

“No.” A sheen of anger radiated from him. “I don’t want him to ever leave the walls he’s encased in. Especially not now.”

“What do you mean ‘now’? Has something changed?”

“He claims he’s become a Christian.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“It’s a little too convenient. He’s been in for three years. Suddenly he’s sorry for deliberately ramming their car over a cliff.” Jared snorted his derision. “I guess you could say I have a problem with that penitence, yeah.”

“Maybe three years has given him the time to realize how wrong he was.”

“Maybe.” His jaw flexed. “I know what you’re going to say, Glory.”

“Do you?”

“God forgives us if we ask Him,” he singsonged. “He doesn’t put stipulations on what He will and won’t forgive. Even the most heinous sinner can be forgiven if he asks.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Can’t or won’t? Doesn’t matter because even if someone’s forgiven or not, he still has to pay for his crime. At least in our society.”

“And you want Viktor to serve his full time in maximum security.”

“Every last second,” he affirmed bitterly.

“When will you be satisfied, Jared?”

Silence.

“In—twenty years?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Okay, twenty-five. After twenty-five years have passed, are their deaths more forgivable? Or is that simply the amount of time you need to cool down?”

“Stop it.”

“I really want to know.” She modulated her voice, striving to sound interested without condemning. “How long do you need before you’ll be satisfied? Or is what you’re really after something entirely different?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He knew. Glory could hear it in his voice.

“Stop pretending, Jared. The only thing that will satisfy you is this man’s death.”

“Yes!” He ripped off his sunglasses, tossed them on the dashboard.

Glory fought back her emotions, prayed for the right words.

“What if you die first? What if you wait years and years and you never get to see him pay the ultimate price?” The thought of Jared wasting his life brought tears. “At the end of your life, when there are no more days, no more hours, when you’ve wasted every moment you’ve had—will the cost of your hate be worth it then?”

“It’s not like that. I’m not frozen into revenge.” He shot her a look of pure frustration. “Is it so wrong to want justice?”

“Everybody wants justice.”

“So?”

“There’s a difference between wanting to see justice served and putting your life on hold until it happens.”

“What’s your answer?” he sniped.

“You won’t like it.”

“When did that ever stop you?” His smile held no mirth.

“Forget about him. Diana and Nicholas died. It was a terrible thing that shouldn’t have happened, but it did and there’s nothing you can do to change it, nothing you can do to undo the damage or heal the wounds. In a way it’s like a burn.”

“A burn?”

“I know it sounds a little odd, but think about it. A burned child arrives at Agapé. What do we do?”

“We clean the burn, we assess the damage, we try to treat it.”

“Yes. But we can’t heal it. The skin has to grow on its own. We try to support that process, of course, but nothing modern medicine has can undo the burn. Only time heals. With God’s help.”

Jared eased onto the freeway, his focus on the road. He steered around traffic, found a parking space and pulled in.

But Glory couldn’t get out. Not yet.

“Diana and Nicholas are in Heaven, Jared. They’ve never been anyplace better, happier. Their healing is complete.”

“Am I supposed to be glad that I can’t wish my son happy birthday? That I can’t wish my wife happy anniversary?” he snapped.

“Today?” Glory almost groaned as his head jerked once, in the affirmative.

Oh, why hadn’t she shut her mouth?

Help me say the right thing.

“Nicholas is having the best birthday he could have with his Heavenly Father, Jared. Do you imagine, even for a second, that you love him or Diana more than God does?”

She opened the car door, stepped out and carefully closed it.

“I’ll be free whenever you want to return. Just call my cell.”

As soon as he nodded, Glory turned and quickly walked down the street. She came to a coffee shop. Coffee in hand, she searched a street directory for the nearest church. She needed the precious peace of a sanctuary now.

She was head over heels in love with a man who would never love her the way she yearned to be loved.

T
he stuffy room wasn’t much bigger than his largest treatment room at Agapé.

Jared shuffled in his chair struggling to concentrate on what the members of the hearing board were saying. But he couldn’t get his mind off Glory’s last words.

They’ve never been happier.

They rattled round and round his head until he wanted to scream.

“I understand you have something you wanted to say, Dr. Steele?”

Jared jerked out of his introspection. Everyone watched him. Only by forcing every muscle to respond was he able to rise as he wrestled to pronounce the damning words he’d thought lay on the tip of his tongue ready to pour out.

They weren’t there.

“Today is…was my anniversary. It would also have been my son’s sixth birthday. Valentine’s Day. It’s supposed to be a day to share love, but I don’t feel that.”

Can’t undo the damage or heal the wound.

“Dr. Steele? Are you all right?”

Jared wasn’t. Inside he was coming apart, fracturing into a million pieces. He didn’t want to remember them here, not with
him
watching.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I can’t do this. Not today.”

He got himself outside as quickly as possible, stumbled down the steps and toward his car. Once there he climbed inside, drew in great gulps of air until his heart rate settled and he could see through the wash of tears that left his face damp.

He opened the glove box to search for a tissue, saw the photo lying on the floor.

Nicholas.

The yearning to hold that wiggling body in his arms, to brush his lips over the dark head, to grasp that chubby little hand in his—his heart sobbed.

Then the world righted itself and he saw the bandage.

Bennie’s picture.

Glory must have dropped it.

“Jared?” Her voice sounded so near.

He twisted his head, met her compassionate gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“My appointment was in there.” He jerked his head toward the court building, which suddenly felt miles away. “You?”

“I was in the church.” She pointed at a side street but her focus remained fixed on him. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine.” He composed himself with a few deep breaths, reached across and opened the car door. “I was going to pick up some Valentine treats for the kids. Want to come?”

“Yes!” She climbed in. “Also, I want to get something special for Sister Phil. I know she probably won’t be able to eat chocolate. But I want something really nice for her, anyway.”

As they fell into their easy banter, the gloom lifted. Jared headed for the Aloha Tower.

“Will you help me choose a gown for her to wear in bed? The one she has is difficult for her.”

Glory beamed with excitement. “This will be fun.”

“More than you know.” He expected her curious glance. “This mall has the best gelato in town.”

“I think I like gelato.”

“You’ve never had it?” She shook her head. “Then we’ll order some for our dessert.”

“Dessert?” She frowned. “Jared, I really want to get back in time for dinner this evening.”

“Oh.” It was obvious she was up to something. Her green eyes sparked an orange ember in their depths that hinted at mischief and intrigued him. “What’s the rush?”

“I hired some people to put on a puppet show. I want to watch it with the children.”

“A puppet show?”

“Kahlia told me about them. They’re going to rig up an outdoor stage on the side. Those who can’t go outside will have their beds wheeled to the windows.”

Always the kids.

“Perhaps we could make up a couple of piñatas,” he offered, remembering Nicholas’s delight the day Diana had insisted on hanging one.

“Really?” She practically danced out of the car and into the shopping center.

When Glory turned left, he took her arm, steered her in the opposite direction, toward the candy store.

“Oh, my.” She began assembling her order.

Jared kept the other clerk busy with his own chocolate order for the staff. Diana had started the tradition and he’d kept it up, knowing he didn’t thank them often enough. Then he and Glory put their heads together and chose the piñatas and their contents. By the time they were finished it was well past noon and he was starving.

They made a quick detour so Glory could help him choose the perfect gown for Sister Phil. In return he helped her select a bouquet of Sister’s favorite flowers.

“Lunch?” he suggested, juggling packages.

Glory sniffed the flowers she held, nodded. “Where?”

“Follow me.” He led her to a fast-food chain.

“You’re kidding.” She stared at him deadpan.

“I know we medical people are always preaching healthy lifestyles and I do try, but I’m craving a burger and fries.” He backtracked quickly. “If you’d rather have a salad or something, I think they have it on the menu.”

“Don’t even think it.” An imp of mischief danced in those remarkable eyes.

After lunch Jared led her toward the gelato shop.

“Choose whatever you like.”

“Blackberry,” Glory ordered after one swift glance at the menu. A young woman hurried away to fill her request. “What are you having?”

Amusement flared in her eyes when their server didn’t bother to ask him, simply dished up a giant serving of chocolate hazelnut.

“I see you’ve been here before,” she teased as he held the door open for her.

“Once or twice,” Jared admitted. He chose a table with chairs in the sun.

Glory insisted he taste her treat, no doubt so he’d reciprocate. Jared quashed that hope.

“I’d offer you some of mine but I never share anything chocolate.”

“Hmm. You’re going to need to swim a lot of laps to work that off,” she hinted, holding out her dish and blinking in a femme fatale parody. “Let me help you out.”

“Back off, woman. I’ll buy you your own dish if you want, but you’re not getting mine, so stop drooling.”

“Some mothers should have taught their sons to share.” She scraped the sides of her dish noisily.

“Some doctors from the Arctic shouldn’t be so fond of frozen food.”

“Some doctors are like the pot calling the kettle black,” she shot back. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are prepared to admit you can’t possibly finish that entire dish yourself.”

He ate it all, just to prove a point.

“Feel free to call on Dr. Xavier’s service later, when your stomach aches.”

“Not gonna happen.” The day was turning out better than expected.

“You didn’t tell me how your meeting went,” she murmured gently when they were back in the car, heading home.

“I left early.” Jared changed the subject to preparation of the piñatas. They decided there should be three sites. “But how can we make it so they’ll all have a swing?”

Glory chuckled. “Hang the youngest ones’ piñata on an IV pole.”

“Brilliant, Doctor. And the others?”

She tilted her head back, closed her eyes. “I’ll think of something,” she promised.

But she fell asleep instead.

Jared cut his speed so her long hair didn’t whip quite so hard in the wind. She slept deeply, thick lashes resting on her sun-kissed cheeks, lips slightly parted. Her small capable hands lay loosely in her lap atop the picture of Bennie.

When he was with Glory he could almost forget.

Almost.

But then something—Bennie’s picture, holding Maria and knowing he’d never again be a father—would trigger the anger and he’d be right back where he’d been, fighting the bitterness, the unanswered questions, the helpless feelings that rendered him impotent. Then the rage would drag at his soul, demanding justice.

Forget? How could he forget when there were so many reminders?

And yet, as Jared considered the afternoon and the many times he’d spoken of Diana, of solutions she’d employed, when he’d remembered Nicholas chortling so hard he’d made them all laugh—at those times the pain was bittersweet. Still buried deep inside his heart, but bearable.

For the first time Jared pushed past all the pat answers he’d so easily fed himself and searched for the underlying reason that insisted he ensure Viktor would not escape justice.

The truth—he would never be free.

Because he was responsible for a child’s death as much as Viktor was.

Because he needed to prove he wasn’t like Viktor.

Because he was.

Jared took the turn to Agapé a little too fast. The jerk of the wheels over the bumpy road woke Glory.

“I’m a lousy companion,” she apologized. “I didn’t sleep much last night. I guess it caught up with me.”

“Next time don’t spend the night huddling beside Bennie,” he ordered, insides churning. “Shall we visit Sister Phil before we go to the mission?”

“Sure.”

They arrived just as the nurses were changing shifts.

“I thought Leilani told me Sister Phil couldn’t afford private care,” Glory murmured. “Not that it’s any of my business, but if someone’s taking a collection, I’d like to chip in, too.”

That was Glory—give and then give some more.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, taking her arm to escort her inside. “You weren’t left out. It’s been taken care of.”

“Oh.” She gave him an odd uncertain glance then turned away.

Sister Phil looked brighter, though Jared could see signs the cancer was winning.

“We brought you a Valentine’s gift, Philomena.”

“Two, actually.” Glory plopped her bouquet in the vase a nurse handed her and held it so Sister could smell the fragrance.

“Lovely, but I don’t need gifts. Seeing you two is enough.”

Jared realized she’d noticed his hand on Glory when they’d entered. He almost groaned.

Don’t think it,
he wanted to tell her. He set the gift bag with the tissue-wrapped gown on her lap instead.

“This is for you, too.”

With trembling hands she lifted the gown free of its tissue and touched the silken threads as if afraid they’d disintegrate.

“I’ve never worn anything so fine.” She lifted her head, her smile tremulous. “Thank you, my dears. Thank you so much.”

She reached out to Jared with one hand, Glory the other. Sister drew them close, pressed her lips against their cheeks, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“You two make an old woman very happy. But you must go to the mission. I hear the children are very excited about a special surprise for tonight.”

“You always find out.” Jared decided Glory seemed a little teary-eyed, too. “Don’t ever try to keep secrets around her. She can ferret out the truth faster than any street-savvy cop.”

“I have my sources.” Sister Philomena crossed her arms over her chest, winked at them.

Glory’s laughter reached the rafters. She hugged the old woman, brushed her lips across her forehead.

“You’re a wonder, all right. You remind me of my father sometimes. He had a way of figuring out every secret the congregation tried to keep.” A sad little smile flickered across her lips. “I can still hear his laughter sometimes. Big, boisterous. He enjoyed a good laugh.”

“I wish I’d known him. And your mother.” Sister patted her hand. “She must have been a very selfless woman to have given her life to save you.”

Given her life? Jared gulped. He’d had no idea of the tragedy Glory had experienced, even accused her once of not understanding his loss. He’d been so busy drowning in his own sorry world he’d ignored everyone else’s. He made a vow to finally look through the personnel file Elizabeth had sent the week before Glory had arrived.

“You’re tired and we must go. I’ll stop by later,” Glory promised. She was almost at the door when Sister Phil’s forceful tone stopped her.

“No. Don’t stop by tonight, Glory. I don’t feel up to a chat. The nurses and I played chess today and it wore me out.” She smoothed the blanket with her fingers, not looking at them.

Jared’s warning radar zipped to red alert. Sister was up to something.

Glory looked crushed. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You could never intrude, my dear. But go celebrate this loving day with the children. Soak in the excitement on those little faces so you can tell me when I see you tomorrow.”

“All right.” Glory tossed him a questioning glance.

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

She nodded. “Good night, Sister.”

“Good night, my dear. God bless you.”

Jared waited, peering through the window until he could see Glory standing by his car, far out of earshot. Then he faced Sister Phil.

“Don’t try to match-make, Philomena.”

“I would never dare—”

“You would dare that and more besides. But don’t do it.” Conscious of the nurse standing just outside the door, he hesitated to say more, though the warning had to be given.

Sister Phil watched him with hawk’s eyes. “She’s a lovely girl, a wonderful doctor. You suit each other.”

“No.”

“Do you ever get lonely, Jared? Don’t you want to have your own family, care for someone and have them care for you?”

“I had that,” he reminded her.

“I’m not talking about the past,” she reprimanded sharply. “I’m speaking of the future. You didn’t die with Diana and Nicholas.”

“I should have.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “And don’t try to play God.”

She was furious. That shocked him. He’d never seen Sister Philomena really angry in all the years he’d known her.

“You can’t bury yourself in the past, Jared, no matter how hard you try.”

“I’m not burying myself.”

She studied him for several moments then crossed her arms over her chest.

“I suppose you went to the hearing.” She waited for his nod, made a face. “Of course. You had to dig the hole a little deeper, eh?”

“I walked out.”

She brightened. “Well, that’s progress.”

“Not because of any altruistic reason. I simply couldn’t sit there and look at him without wanting to wring his neck. I was so angry, I couldn’t even remember what I was going to say, so I bolted.”

“Good. Better such words remain unspoken.”

“It’s not over,” he warned her quietly.

“Jared, please don’t harden your heart. Let it go.”