Words Unspoken (41 page)

Lissa had already finished
The Equal Journey
and had started
Passage From Nowhere,
feeling again that she had heard these stories before. For sure she had a new favorite author.

A new favorite author who wrote a new novel just for me. I can’t wait to read it.

What a very strange thought.

Picking up
Passage From Nowhere,
she caught sight of the Bible. Like the good student she was, she had read each of the verses Mr. MacAllister had jotted down, verses about God speaking to a prophet through a still small voice, others about God caring for lilies—that one was familiar— and individuals, and then one that said to think about things that were true and honorable and pure and lovely. And a bunch of them were about Jesus. She did not like reading about Jesus. Even pronouncing his name bothered her. It seemed so personal, so troubling. God made man.

She preferred S. A. Green.

She was engrossed in her thoughts when the phone rang. “Hello,” she said, hardly paying attention.

“Liss. It’s Cammie.” This was the fifth time Cammie had called since her accident.

“Hey, Cammie. Don’t worry. I’m doing fine, really.”

“I’m afraid I have bad news. Your father got in touch with the parents of the girl from Virginia. They are still very interested in Caleb. They’re coming this weekend to try him again, and if it goes well and he passes the vet’s inspection, they are ready to load him into the trailer and take him back with them.”

Lissa froze. “No!” It escaped like a sob. Then she whispered, “Cammie! They can’t. What am I going to do?”

“You have to talk to your father.”

“He won’t let me say a word. It’s worse than ever.”

“You’ve got to talk with him, Liss. I can’t stop him from selling Caleb. I’m so sorry.”

________

“Hello, Miss Green. Forgive me for taking so long to get back to you.” Ted prayed that his voice sounded calm, optimistic.

“It’s quite all right.”

At least the crazy lady did not bless him out.

“And may I offer my congratulations for all the great reviews in the paper. That ad was fantastic!”

“Thank you.”

Stella Green did not sound like she was in the mood for small talk or accolades.

“Miss Green, I’m assuming you have your statement in front of you?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Let’s go through it one trade at a time.”

Do it right, Ted. Do it right.

“With your consent—from the discretionary clause—I did some trading before Black Monday—that’s there for you to see—and then unfortunately the stocks went down a bit, and of course on Black Monday everything took a hit. So when the stocks were low, it was a perfect time to double up on some of your holdings and perhaps hedge your position with some bonds. But you’ve jumped back up on page three— you see that?”

“I’m not following you very well, Ted.”

She sounded more confused than angry, which was good, very good.

“Can you tell me about my losses?”

“Miss Green, I’m afraid that the foundation has lost a considerable amount because of Black Monday, but not nearly as much as other accounts, I assure you.”

“You know I write that yearly check at the end of December. What is the foundation’s net worth right now?”

“It’s just down a bit. Under six million.” It was actually barely above five million as of today, but she wouldn’t see that statement for three more weeks. “I know this is upsetting, but you’ve dealt with the stock market for years. You understand the ups and downs. We just need to ride this one out. Would you like for me to meet you somewhere so we can discuss this further?”

Please say no.

“No, Ted. That won’t be necessary right yet. Perhaps we can talk in the next week?”

“Absolutely. Absolutely.”

With a sigh of relief, Ted hung up the phone. The lady definitely sounded worried—or vulnerable. Perhaps she had concerns about the new novel. If only that would keep her busy, overwhelmed even, until he could figure out a solution. If only.

________

“Pronto?”

On the third try, Silvano answered his phone.

“Finally you’re home from work!” By this time Lissa had composed herself and was able to speak without sniffing into the phone. “Silvano, thank you so much for the gorgeous flowers. They have been the bright spot in my week.”

“My pleasure, Miss Equestrian. How are you feeling today? Did you go back to work?”

“I’m much better, thanks. Not nearly as much pain. And yes, I’ve gone back for half days, yesterday and today.”

“And how are things with your dad?”

“Oh, gosh. Don’t get me started. Actually, that’s one of the reasons I called. I hate to ask you this—” she took a deep breath—“but do you think you could drive up here tomorrow after work?”

“Sure. I’ve already offered twice.”

He actually sounded pleased.

“I know, but … I just didn’t want to bother you, especially since it’s not for a date. It’s Caleb. I’ve got to see Caleb. My dad’s going to sell him.”

“
Che peccato
, Liss! I’m so sorry.”

She tried to explain it to Silvano, but her words made little sense.

Finally, he simply said, “Look, try to calm down, and I’ll be there tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She hung up the phone and thought again of taking all the medication at once. She saw in her mind’s eye the concern in Annie’s face.

We’re here to make sure you don’t.

She stood up clumsily, went to the armoire, and knocked over the photos. The vase tottered a little, sloshing water onto the floor without falling over. She paced around the room, trying to quiet the voices.

Failure! All your fault!

Everything was throbbing—her arm, her head, her heart. She squeezed her hands over her ears, ignoring the shooting pain in her wrist, and screamed, “Stop it! Be quiet!” But it didn’t help.

She went back to the bedside table and, with shaking hands, pushed the three remaining pain tablets out of the foil and swallowed them quickly.

Call the MacAllisters.

No. She could not, would not, bother them again.

She sat down at the desk and quickly sketched several stick figures into her journal. In one she was being crushed by a huge rock; in another she was being dragged on the ground, her foot stuck in the stirrup as the horse galloped in front; in the last her hands were tied above her head and she was in the water as it mounted, drowning. She scribbled the words that came to her.

Everything I had imagined for my life is falling apart, smashed under a bridge with hail pelting down, cold, hard, crushing me. Everything I held on to is being ripped out of my hands. Everything I hoped for feels too heavy to hope for anymore. I want to disappear, I long to disappear, I will disappear. I conjugate myself like a Latin verb. I feel as though soon I will be as dead as that beautiful language. I reach for the pills, I reach and reach and it hurts inside. It pulls and tears and yanks and hurts. The pain is unbearable, and I cannot escape it. I will carry this pain forever. It is not worth it. I would rather disappear. I might as well write the words: I want to die.

She opened the drawer and took out the bottle.

________

Hamilton had his schedule, and in the seventeen years of their marriage, he’d kept to it pretty closely. So Katy Lynn did not expect to run into him in the downstairs dining room of the club on Thursday night, with Janelle by her side. But there he was, still dressed in his business attire instead of the khakis and polo shirt he usually changed into, talking in an animated way with another man. Her heart skipped a beat.

He is strikingly handsome, Katy Lynn.
How often had she heard that phrase throughout the years?

Janelle saw him immediately. “Oh, Katy. Let’s leave.”

“No. No, I refuse to let him run me away from my life.”

She headed toward the table the waiter indicated, only inches from where Hamilton stood. No way to avoid it. As they passed by, two things occurred simultaneously. Hamilton saw Katy Lynn and Janelle, his face registering surprise; and Gina, who had promised to meet her mother and aunt at the club after basketball practice, came down the hall, smiled at her mother, caught sight of her father, and froze, eyes darting back and forth between them.

“Hello, Katy,” Hamilton said. His face had turned a shade of red.

Katy Lynn took three long breaths while the little world of family and friends looked on.

What do you want to do—ruin him or save the family?

“Hello.”

Hamilton appeared ill at ease. Then he stepped across an invisible line on the carpet, brushed Katy Lynn on the arm lightly, and gave Janelle a kiss on the cheek. “It’s been a long time, Janelle. Good to see you.”

Katy Lynn waited for her sister’s response.

Janelle’s face was pinched and tight. “I can’t say it’s good to see you, considering the unfortunate circumstances. However, I’m glad I can be here with Katy Lynn.”

Hamilton cleared his throat and gave an awkward smile and turned to Gina. “Hey, sweetie. How was practice?”

“Fine,” she said shortly. “I’m going to eat with Mom and Aunt Janelle now, Dad.”

“Well, we need to be going,” Hamilton said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Gina.”

The two men walked out of the dining room.

Once they were seated at the table, Katy Lynn felt tears filling her eyes. She blinked several times.

Gina saw it and said, “Mom, we don’t have to stay.”

“Yes, why don’t we go somewhere else, Katy?”

“It’s okay.” She tried to keep from trembling. “They’re gone now. I guess I have to get used to this.”

She had completely lost her appetite and only picked at her food during the meal, pushing it around on her plate, while Janelle, bless her heart, told several humorous stories about Sandy and Luke.

When dessert was served, Katy Lynn finally spoke. “Aunt Janelle and I are going to see your grandparents tomorrow, Gina. I will probably come back on Sunday afternoon. Do you want to stay with the Lewises?”

Gina frowned. “You’re going to see Grandmom and Grandad? In Fort Oglethorpe?”

“Yes.”

“Wow! You haven’t been there in ages.” Then she rushed on. “Can I come with you?”

Dumbfounded, Katy Lynn smiled. “Of course. We’d love to have you.”

Afterward, Gina found two friends and ran upstairs with them. Katy Lynn and Janelle walked to the main entrance.

“Hello there, Miz Pendleton,” Tom said. “Just saw Miss Gina leaving with her girlfriends. How you doin’ tonight?”

“Pretty good, Tom. Do you remember my little sister, Janelle Johnson?”

Tom got a broad smile and said, “Sho’ ’nuf! Well, hello, Miz Johnson. Sho’ is good to see you again. Bin a long time.”

“Good to see you too, Tom. Thanks for looking out for my sister.”

“My pleasure, ma’am. All my pleasure.”

________

Lissa awoke, feeling groggy, and heard the sound of knocking and voices calling her name.

She pulled herself off the floor and opened the fist where she clutched the bottle of pills, expecting it to be empty. But the pills were still there.

She struggled to her feet and looked out her window. A red Buick was parked in the driveway. Ev and Annie MacAllister were at the door. They had come anyway, even without her calling.

Nothing is random.

She made it downstairs, still shaking off the heaviness and sleep, and opened the door.

Annie rushed in and hugged her, carefully avoiding the bandaged shoulder. “We tried calling twice and didn’t get an answer, and I got worried. I’m sorry for barging in.”

Lissa’s body was stiff, but gradually she relaxed into Annie’s arms. “Thanks for coming.”

“How are you feeling, Lissa?” Mr. MacAllister asked.

“A little better, I guess.”

Annie was guiding her into the living room. “How are you really?”

“Horrible,” Lissa whispered, and felt gentle relief in saying the word. She opened her fist to reveal the bottle. “I’m having those horrible thoughts again.”

Annie looked at her husband, then covered Lissa’s hand with hers.

“May I have that, please?”

Lissa hesitated. A scene from
Eastern Crossings
went through her mind: Vasilica was being forced to let go of something dear to him.

She nodded with her head turned down and released the bottle into Annie’s hand.

Don’t you feel better now?

Lissa sank into the couch. “My father is selling Caleb. He’s determined to take away everyone and everything I love. He wants to kill me.”

Annie sat down beside her, and Lissa leaned against the older woman’s shoulder and whispered, “I wish I’d never been born.”

She dozed off on the couch. When she woke, Mr. MacAllister was sitting in the leather armchair, his head bent. Maybe he was praying. Annie was standing by the fireplace mantel, looking at a photograph of Lissa as a small girl.

Lissa sat up, and the heaviness in her mind cleared a little. “You’re here, even though I was too stubborn and afraid to call you. You’re here. And I didn’t take the pills—I thought I would, but I didn’t. And the book is about driving lessons, and you’re right. You must be right. Life isn’t random. There has to be some kind of order.”

She realized then that her hands were shaking, that her whole body in fact was shaking. While Annie held her hands, Ev MacAllister went to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. Lissa sipped it in big gulps. “Tell me about it, please. Explain to me why life isn’t random.”

Annie nodded to her husband, who leaned forward, his elbows resting on his long, thin legs.

“I don’t believe things happen just by chance. I believe in a creator God, a God of design and power. An omniscient and omnipotent God, who loves humanity and who loves the individual. A God who’s in the business of redeeming.”

“But those are just words. Is there a way to prove God exists, a way to prove He orders things?”

“We’re here, Lissa. You’re here.”

They came even though I didn’t call. I wanted to take the pills, but I didn’t.

“Life makes sense when it is centered around the God of the universe who controls all and yet cares about each individual. We need Him. He created us to need Him.”