Kaleidoscope Eyes (11 page)

Something stirred deep inside Annie. Excitement. Because she was realizing that Serafina wasn’t crazy at all. Rather, she was just this side of brilliant. What better vehicle to illuminate some hidden aspect of God than stained glass? The bold colors, the rich hues, the near magic of blended textures …

Annie could almost see it taking form in her mind. To create something that actually let people see God with new eyes?

Now
that
would be a masterpiece.

Get real What makes you think you can do that?

Annie pressed her lips together, trying to force the all-too-familiar voice of doubt back to the recesses of her mind. But doubt was having none of it.

Okay maybe someone could … but
you?
Come on!

Yet even as she tried to ignore the questions, she found herself wondering … What if her idea didn’t connect with anyone? What if she let Serafina and the church—and
God
—down?

No way. It was too risky.

She opened her mouth to refuse but didn’t get the chance.

“Who’s your new friend, sis?”

Annie resisted the impulse to close her eyes and hide. Great. Now her brother shows up? She turned to face Dan, who had Kyla in tow. Shelby peeked from behind him. Ryan was next to her.

Hail, hail, the gang was all here.

Well … almost.

Annie looked past them. “Where’s Jayce?”

Shelby grinned. “Are you kidding? He’s at the buffet, piling a plate to the ceiling.”

“Are these friends of yours, dear?”

Annie sighed. No avoiding it. She turned back to Serafina. “No. Well, I mean yes, but no.” She shook her head, wishing she could get her scattered thoughts to fall in line. “Serafina Stowe, meet my brother and sister, Dan and Kyla Justice. And this is Dan’s wife of a few months, Shelby.”

“And I’m Ryan Evans, Mr. Molan’s assistant. I run the gallery with him.”

A bit of an exaggeration, but Annie didn’t bother to correct him. She’d had every intention of introducing them, giving Serafina a chance to shake hands, and then hustling her family away. But before she got the chance, Ryan asked Serafina what she thought of Annie’s window. Which opened the door for Serafina to tell them about “dear Cletus” and his window. And sure enough, just as she’d feared, dear sister Kyla stood there, listening intently, that bodes-no-good-for-Annie spark in her green eyes.

Serafina sent a look of supplication to Kyla. “I’m hoping your gifted sister will make my husband’s dream come true.”

Kyla didn’t hesitate. “She’ll do it.”

“What?” Serafina was delighted.

“What?”
Ryan was not.

Neither, for that matter, was Annie. But before she could object, Kyla took her arm and led her to the side. Ryan followed on their heels.

Her sister spoke first. “Annie, you’re supposed to do this. I just know it.”

“For your information, Sister-Mommy Dearest, I was about to decline the commission.”

Ryan’s mouth thinned. “Good. I hardly think doing a piece for a tiny church will do your career any good.”

Annie wasn’t sure she agreed with Ryan, but she didn’t argue. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Right.” Kyla crossed her arms.

Ryan scowled. “Really, Miss Justice, I think your sister knows her own mind. If I don’t think she should do it—”

Annie jerked a look at him, but he just went on. “And she doesn’t want to do it, then it’s settled.”

As much as Annie didn’t like the implication that Ryan had any say in what she did and didn’t do, she still didn’t argue. Better to stick to her guns than show weakness when her sister was trying to get her to do something.

“Besides,” Ryan went on, “there are far better projects for
Annie right now that will showcase her talent as it deserves to be showcased.”

Annie frowned at that. “What projects?”

Ryan clapped his hands. “I’ve been waiting to tell you and Killian, but a couple of developers are here, and they just talked with me about having you create decorative windows for a new office complex they’re going to put up.”

Kyla fixed her gaze on Annie, and she felt the heat filling her cheeks.

“Killian will be delighted!”

Ryan’s excitement was painfully clear. But Annie didn’t share it. Making windows for an office complex was about as challenging as walking across the street. But Serafina’s window? Creating something that helped people see God in a new way?

That was an incredible challenge. She
wanted
to do it. More than she’d wanted to do anything in a long time.

And Kyla knew it. “Annie, be honest. You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

Of course she was. She’d be crazy not to be.

“All the more reason to stay away from this project,” Ryan urged.

But Annie knew that wasn’t true. “I’m almost always afraid when I start a new project. Creative insecurities are part of the craft.”

Her sister lifted her shoulders. “
Well
then?”

Annie held up a hand to forestall further comment from Ryan. “Kyla’s right.”

Ryan turned on a heel and went off in a huff.

“He’ll get over it.”

Annie nodded, then walked back to Serafina. Stopped. Swallowed. “I’ll do it.”

Serafina’s delighted squeal as she hugged Annie—combined with the pleasure in Kyla’s and Ryan’s eyes and the respect in Dan’s—was almost enough to still the voice of doubt within her.

Almost.

Okay, God. If what Serafina said is right, then You got me into this mess.
She returned the older woman’s hug.
Please … just don’t let me blow it.

NINE        

S
EPTEMBER
11

He shouldn’t have come.

Jed dug his fingers into the wood of the pew. It took all his willpower not to jump up and run from the room. But he wouldn’t do that to Ken.

Ken won’t care. He’s gone.

Jed stared at the closed casket at the front of the sanctuary. Then at Ken’s wife and kids, who sat huddled together, faces stricken with grief.

They were so alone, though the sanctuary was full to overflowing with those mourning Ken’s death.

Jed’s grip tightened.

He tuned out as the pastor droned on about eternity and being together again. Why talk about eternity when today was so full of loss? What difference did
eternity
make?

“From eternity to eternity I am God.”

Jed grimaced. Stop it. Not now. He really didn’t need that pabulum in his head now.

“No one can oppose what I do. No one can reverse my actions.”

He almost came out of the pew at that. Heat suffused his face, constricted his chest.

Oh yeah? I can. And I do! I oppose it. How could You let this happen?
He ground his teeth.
That man trusted You. Said You never let him down. So I guess this proves what a fool he was, doesn’t it?

The thought stopped his rant cold.

Ken, a fool? Did he really believe that?

Jed squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to close it all out. To forget where he was and why. To block out the memory of that morning, meeting everyone at the firehouse. Of the building and the fire trucks draped with black bunting, mute testimony to the devastating loss.

But even as he tried to force the memories away, images of Ken filled his mind—images so real Jed could almost reach out and touch him. As though he were right there beside Jed, eyes shining with kindness and understanding, smile comforting.

Ken Hall a fool? Hardly.

So where does that leave you? If he wasn’t a fool, then how could he buy into all the God crud? And look where it left him! Dead! Gone! If that’s not a fool, what is?

“Mr. Curry?”

Jed almost jumped out of his skin. He opened his eyes and found himself face-to-face with Ken’s widow. A quick look told him the funeral was over.

More than that, the casket was gone. As were the people.

He was the only one left sitting here.

Jed jumped to his feet. “Oh, I’m sorry.” How had he missed them removing the casket? All those people leaving?

A soft hand on his arm stopped the words. Jed met the woman’s gaze and felt his heart break.

The same gentle care he’d always seen in Ken’s eyes shone in
Amy Hall’s as well. “Mr. Curry, thank you for coming.”

He managed a shrug.

“I … I have something for you.” She held out a large padded envelope. “Kenny said if anything should happen to him, he wanted you to have this.”

Jed frowned. “Are you sure? He hardly knew me.”

She smiled through her tears. “Your time together may have been short, but Ken told me he felt a real connection to you. He cared about you.” She patted the package and her eyes held his. “Please take it. Don’t let Kenny down.”

No. Not in a million years.

He reached out for the package. It was heavy. Like his heart. Jed looked around. “Can I … are you supposed to go somewhere?”

She took his arm. “To the graveside. The car is waiting. And yes, I’d appreciate it if you’d walk with me.”

Jed put his hand over hers, where it rested on his arm. Together they walked from the room.

Two hours later, Jed was back at his apartment. The package from Ken lay on the kitchen table.

He avoided it as long as he could, but Amy’s soft voice kept echoing in his mind: “
Don’t let Kenny down.”

He grabbed the envelope, tearing it open.
I won’t. Not like Someone else …

The angry thoughts froze as Jed stared down at what he held in his hand.

A Bible.

Engraved on the cover in silver was a name: Kenneth Hall.

His throat thick, Jed lifted the cover. Ken’s name was inscribed inside. He flipped through the pages … notes dotted the margins.

Notes from a dead man.

One scribbled comment caught Jed’s eye. It was written in the margin next to Ecclesiastes 4. Two
people can accomplish more than twice as much as one. … If one person falls, the other can reach out and
help. But people who are alone when they fall are in real trouble …. Two can stand back-to-back and conquer …

Blah, blah, blah.

Then Jed read Ken’s note: “
Need to remember this when life doesn’t make sense. Don’t try to face it alone. Find someone to share the struggle. And share it with God. He’ll have the answers.”

Humorless laughter gurgled up from within Jed, and he slammed the book shut.

This was crazy. Ken Hall may have been a good man, but he trusted in a God who let him down. So why should Jed pay any attention to anything the man had to say? “Find someone to share the struggle”?

Fat lot of good that did Ken.

No, Jed’s way was better. He would handle this like he did everything else—like he handled his father leaving. Like he handled his parents’ divorce. Like he handled having a stranger come to live in his home, calling his mother “darling” and him “son.”

By himself.

No sharing. No praying.

And definitely no God.

TEN        

S
EPTEMBER
22

6:30 a.m.

“Give yourself time, boy”

Jed turned his back on the huge picture window overlooking the Pacific Ocean and faced his executive producer. He’d made a point of being in Silas’s spacious office at 5:55 this morning, knowing the older man would blow in, as he did every morning, hours before everyone else. He liked working in the early morning silence.

“You get more done that way,” he always said, “with no one to bother you.”

So Jed was there, ready and waiting for his boss’s arrival at six. On the dot.