Authors: Diane Munier
Billy
rolled toward him. "Oh…from the grave I see," he said, big grin, but
pain…too.
He
couldn't get a word out, but he went quick to Bill and got pulled into a hug
that took him over and moved Bill's chair back some, but that one, so strong in
his arms, he was squeezing the life out of Jordan and the last scrap of his
self-control.
Jordan
heaved in Bill's arms. Then he caught it, and it wasn't so much, the worst was
what had just escaped, a near convulsion.
Bill
slapped his back two or three times, but mostly he held on.
His
hands slid to Jordan's shoulders and he gripped there and moved Jordan back to
look in his face, the laser look that would tell him everything.
"Oh,"
Bill said. "Come on in."
Jordan
stepped around back of the chair and took the handles. Billy didn't need a
push, not at all, but it was a courtesy he extended if a man needed to step
away for a minute and do a job and find his dignity.
So
Billy chattered now, about the grounds and gardens and Jordan pretended to
hear, but he looked mostly at that cowboy hat Billy wore and the man underneath
it in this berg, this hamburger town, and he felt such a rush of gratitude it
about buckled him.
They
got in and that smell hit Jordan, cleaner and paper from the flapping bulletin
boards telling about anything with a pulse for Jesus in these surrounding
towns, and that other smell of prayer and despair and hope. Jordan's stomach
clenched.
Bill
turned the chair to face him. "We did it over…the sanctuary.
New carpet…new pews.
You
won't hardly
know it."
Jordan
closed his eyes and groaned. How did this man always know how to hit the
target.
"Listen
to me," he said. "I know you ain't here to beg for your old job."
Jordan
shook his head.
"Frankly…I
don't want you. You need to be out there now you got your stripes."
"I…."
"Now
hold on. Whatever you got to say…I don't need to hear. I
ain't
never
said that to a man trying to tell me his heart, but I'm saying it
now to you. You know what you're here for. My job was to get you in the door. I
got some calls to make. We
gonna
say our good-byes
here?"
Jordan
nodded. "I…thank you."
"You'll
be alright," he said. "You know where to go for the answers. I ain't
got a thing more to tell you
cause
you know what I'd
say before I got it out."
Jordan
laughed. He did.
"Let
me know when you get where you're going. I don't mean all that meandering
you're doing while you fart around, I mean…let me know when you enter in."
"I
will," Jordan said.
Billy
rolled to him and slapped his arm. "You're alright," he said.
Jordan
nodded.
"Best
get to it before the quilters get here."
Yeah.
He did not want to run into that group.
Billy
went in the office and Jordan shoved his hands in his pockets and continued
down the hall. He got to the
foyer,
and the sound of
the gurney wheels on those gray tiles that day, as they took out the
wounded…the dead.
But
there were other things…so many…funerals, and weddings, and Christmas trees lit
up here, and folks huddled and voices and laughing. There was so much.
He pushed in the wooden
doors that opened to the center aisle. Brides walked here, and the wise men,
the choir, the weeping, the smiling. He stood where he'd done it, the new
carpet under his feet,
the
new pews with the padded seats.
It
wasn't here.
Memories…sure…but like he knew, so many kinds.
It
wasn't here. It was in him. It was his. It was a part of his history…it was a
part…just a part…and it was his now…to let heal…to let scar…so he could use
it…so he could give it…so he could speak from it…so he could say…don't
hate…with power…with authority.
It
gave him the right. He'd been tested. And James Carson had not won.
Because
the living had the final word.
And he…was…alive, and the pieces weren't in his hands, they were in his heart.
He
knew it for Seth. Now he knew it…for himself.
Chapter
17
She
was it. Cori Weston was the one. It's like most of the static was gone. He
couldn't foretell the future, he wasn't being ridiculous, but what he'd found
with her, felt with her…it had never been this way before…so clear he
could…lick it.
She
was part of the why. He wasn't trying to add to it…the reason he'd suffered,
but she was one of the gifts that came out of it.
He
could wait two months, or two years, but heart of hearts he knew this wasn't
going to change. He loved her. She had entered his life…she had already
become…the best thing.
He
knew this driving back to Cori's house. He pulled in front, and took the path
quickly, and knocked on her door. She opened as though waiting on the other
side.
She
hadn't been up long, her eyes were still swollen, and he knew she was tired,
deeply so, but he was looking to make sure Seth wasn't on the couch and he
pushed her back and closed the door behind him.
"Are
you alright?" she said, her hands attaching to his arms.
"Yes.
For the first…." He gripped her waist.
"Did
you sleep?" She looked over him, his rumpled clothes.
"I
did some. In my car…I know…."
"You
look…."
"Listen,
Cori…it's clear to me…like…everything is…lit."
She
laughed a little.
He
had her in his arms, wrapped tight and she reciprocated and he held her that
way and when Seth didn't show he lifted her face and kissed her lips soft, then
more urgently, and she seemed as needy to do this as he was.
He
broke apart and breathing, his hand on her face, holding her
chin…"Cori," he said, "I'm in love with you."
She
swallowed and a little smile at the corner of her mouth.
"Is
that okay?" he said, a laugh…like a giggle and if he had the time he'd
feel ashamed of such a sound, but he didn't really care…at all.
She
laughed too. "You're asking permission? I never asked yours."
He
touched her cheek, her bottom lip. She said it tickled and they laughed again.
"I'm
glad you didn't. I might still be alone."
"You
couldn't get rid of me that easily. I was never afraid of what I felt,"
she said.
He
nodded. He had been…afraid of what she felt…afraid of his feelings for her.
"Let's
bring Seth back to the beach with us."
"Are
you crazy? He has school, Jordan."
That's
when Seth showed up, on the top stair.
"Yeah…the
beach!"
It was well past
lunchtime when they were finally on the road. It hadn't been easy to reach
consensus and actually do this. Cori was fleshed out here at home where she was
a mother. Of course Jordan had only known her as an apparition from the sea
while at the beach.
The
embodiment of his physical and emotional needs.
But
here in Danville she was dimensional.
And so practical.
He was fascinated by this side too, her relationship with Seth, protective,
indulgent, but not as indulgent as he would have thought with them being on
their own and with Seth coming so close to death. She was on the phone with his
doctor, then with his school.
"You're
trouble," Jordan told Seth.
"I
can be," Seth said back with a raised brow.
He
had 'confident' down. He wanted the beach, but appeared to be handing out a
warning with it.
Jordan
told him there were a lot of rest stops on the trip and he wasn't above
forgetting to wait for Seth should he prove to be annoying.
Seth
seemed surprised for a minute, but Jordan saw him smile before he turned away
and asked his mother where his water shoes were.
Jordan
tried to help speed it along, but he more got in the way than anything. He put
the perishables in the cooler, as instructed. He put the last load of clothes
in the dryer and folded the load already in there. He even made Seth's bed. He ended
going in to Danville to get his oil changed and filled the car with gas.
But
eventually they did get on the road, and all that morning, and now as they
traveled, Jordan's thoughts about Cori ran unimpeded.
She
had watched over their interactions, his and Seth's the night before, but she
had stayed away, just far enough. She couldn't know how much that meant to him.
She
was insightful and generous. She was wise. She had quality, as far as he was
concerned, an admirable willingness to trust, to not interfere to make herself
feel better.
What
he realized…she came for him…knew he needed to meet Seth. Yet her way was so
open…so vulnerable and unswerving. She took all the risk. When she loved, she
held nothing back, nothing.
Genuine love.
He kept
looking at her, was she this brilliant, orchestrating everything? She had no
idea what he felt…how it ran…so deep, worked on him, on any and every
obstruction, blasting them to bits now, anything, everything, there was no
reason, not one reason to resist.
And
all of this hit him while she told him a funny story. Seth was talking, too.
Cori was turned to look over the seat. "Yes," they were saying,
egging each other on, the story so rehearsed, letting Jordan in on it now,
knowing
how to tell it, who said what parts better.
Jordan
heard them from far away. She'd turned her body some, opened herself so she was
the connecting point for himself and her
son, so they made a
type of circle
now…a beginning….
It
was the most amazing discovery, this feeling…the paths in him jerking straight.
His
little finger was against her leg, and the warmth, just there, like
Michelangelo's Sistine, God sending life into Adam through a near touch, Adam
receiving…the spark. Jordan was romanticizing, of course, but even this small
contact felt alive, felt fantastic.
For
a split second the awful thought…he was falling…a leap, a drop. No, no fear
now. He was in love with Cori. Seth was already his. Yes, he knew that. It had
chosen him…fatherhood. He was just responding. They…were his charges.
His causes.
He could be so hurt now…more hurt than ever
before cause if this kept up…it would be one of those loves…it already was,
dammit, one of those poems…songs…one of those sonnets…he was there.
Now
he could get ground-down to nothing. He loved. And he always knew that when it
happened…if…he would be ridiculous with his devotion…he always knew this about
himself…look how he'd followed God…that surrender…in him still though he didn't
want to worry over it now…but still…he didn't know halfway, he didn't know what
it meant to be a percentage less than one hundred and fifty out of one hundred.
When he loved…it was complete immersion. And so he'd held off…and dreaded the
day…and now, yes, he was drunk with it, drunk with love.
Cori
had driven the final miles to the beach-house as Jordan had not been able to
keep his eyes open once they crossed the final state line. She had slept so he
was free to pass out in the backseat. Seth was plugged into his earphones and
his phone, his face slightly lit by the screen, the Holy Spirit of technology
his generation warmed themselves by. Jordan wrapped one arm around
himself
and leaned his head on his crumpled jacket and
closed his eyes. He reached his other hand between the driver's seat and the
door and her hip, his thumb sandwiched beneath, and her hand worming to touch
the back of his, oh God, this. It was as soothing as a touch might be.
Lover to lover.
God all the pining for one another this
world knew and had known and would know, it kept the place spinning, it did, he
thought as he drifted off.
So
it was dark when he roused to life. Seth was already out so the car was lit.
Jordan smiled at Cori and they unloaded then and he had the keys to the house
and Seth had gone to the dark water and Cori called after, he was supposed to
be helping, but he'd dumped his stuff on the porch at least. As soon as Jordan
was in the house and smelled the air there, he wanted Cori in the worst way,
had just awoken that way, as if, once all of his restraint had fallen asleep,
the lust took over.
In
the morning Jordan was roused from sleep by a banging. He sat up, and the room
swam a little. His head felt clogged and he'd been deep in his dream, what was
it, he'd been talking to James Carson, he was at a fair of sorts and Carson was
working a booth and he'd gone up to it and Carson was selling cupcakes and all
he had left was…it didn't matter now.
"Stop
that pounding," he called out
cause
someone was
hitting something and they shouldn't.
As
soon as his head cleared enough he got up and instead of going to the window to
look at the ocean, he went in the hall, the smell of coffee there and he
followed it down the stairs. The pounding came from on the porch outside, and
Jordan didn't see Cori in the kitchen, and the coffee, he remembered Cori had
set the pot before they'd all turned in.
Someone
was on the porch. He opened the door and it was Paul striking a plastic bucket
with a piece of driftwood. Alisha stood at the bottom of the stairs holding a
beach bag and a suitcase. Paul had more bags heaped in one of the chairs. His
shirt was unbuttoned, his undershirt on display, even though it was downright
brisk.
Well,
Paul knew how obnoxious it was to wake people this way, but they both broke out
laughing as Paul tossed the wood over the rail and Alisha said,
"Finally!"
Jordan
guessed they'd tried the more traditional methods of entering.
"Where's
your key?" Jordan asked.
"In
your pocket, bro," Paul said digging into the pile of belongings.
Jordan
gathered what was left and they went in.
"You
look good," Alisha said. "Are we…good?"
Well
last they'd spoken….
"Yeah.
Sorry about my latest explosion."
She
laughed and hit his arm,
then
she did a sweep of the
house and said, "I'm home."
This
place…once a year growing up…then a gap of time after their mom died…then
sporadic. But Alisha had come here frequently the last couple of years.
Jordan
only recently.
"So…,"
Jordan said helping himself to coffee while Alisha suddenly grabbed him in a
hug from behind.
"How
have you been? Ignoring my texts and calls, but other than that…," she
went on.
Paul
brought several bags of groceries to the counter.
Apparently
they were staying.
"I've
been good," Jordan sighed. Paul officially shook Jordan's hand on his way
to the fridge.
"Hear
that babe, he's been good," Alisha said proudly.
"Yeah…he's
grownin
' up," Paul said, backside showing beyond
the fridge door as he bent to unload oranges into the bin.
"I
take it you're moving in?" Jordan said over the cup.
"Just
visiting…which you would know…." Alisha let it die. That must have been
what some of the texting was about.