And this God he spoke of. She’d watched the televangelists. God wants her to be happy and wealthy? Right. She’d mistakenly thought happiness could be found in drugs and alcohol but had a cruel awaking when she almost overdosed. Then she’d discovered she was expecting a baby. The downward spiral had almost killed two people. Her husband and friends hadn’t liked her stepping away to get straight. While she would never regret Quinn or Meghan…she did regret that it took her so long to get away for good.
For good? Right.
The buzzer rang. Her mother brought the kids home from their preschool program.
She opened the door as they came up the stairs, and both children rushed into her arms. She hugged their winter-cold bodies tight.
“Hi, Mom. Wanna come in?”
Her mother nodded, followed them in, and helped her get the coats and boots off the little ones.
“Your sandwiches are at the table, kids.” They ran off to eat.
“Did you get more work done?”
“Yeah. Got an offer, and I’ll be packaging up two to ship out to the gallery. They have a show this weekend. They want me to be there, but there’s no way I can do that.”
“Why not?”
“Come on, Mom. I have two children who need me, and there is the issue of money for airfare, meals, and hotel. New York City doesn’t come cheap.”
“You’d probably need a fancy outfit as well.”
“Probably.”
“Someday. Someday you’ll get your dream.”
“My dreams have changed…I want to be safe and for my kids to be OK. To grow up well-loved.”
“What about love for you? Anything else on the hunky neighbor front?”
Skye laughed. “The hunky neighbor happens to be a widowed and grieving pastor. There’s no way I’m going to be good enough for a man like him.”
“Well, that would be different, wouldn’t it? To go from a bum of an addicted failure to a handsome pastor?”
“Remember I said he was grieving? He’s not ready for any kind of relationship and I could tell the day he first met me he didn’t approve of me. Come on. What pastor would marry a woman with piercings, a former drug user, and oh, by the way, divorced with two kids? Along with the fact that I don’t believe in his God, I’m as far away from an ideal woman for him as possible.” She shook her head. “He’s probably regretting moving in next door.”
“You believed in God once.”
“I believe He exists, sure. How could I not when I look at the two miracles sitting at the table? But that He wants a relationship with me? Pshaw. As far away from being good enough for a pastor, I’m even less so for a God.”
Her mother shook her head. “I’m sorry. I failed you. Your own father wasn’t anything stellar.”
“I made my own mistakes, Mom. They are mine and mine alone. I was young, stupid, and high. Trying to avoid the pain of life and taking whatever affection I could get from anyone. Initially, Riley was sweet. You even liked him at first.”
“True, it wasn’t until after the wedding that his true colors emerged.”
“As in hours after. Our honeymoon was a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” Her mother enveloped her in her arms and Skye let her.
“Hey, want to see what I sent out today? I have photos.”
“Sure.”
Skye took her over to her computer and pulled up the paintings she had shipped out to New York.
“I hope you know what you’re doing with this art dealer,” her mother cautioned.
“He’s got a good reputation. I’ve spoken to some other artists who did shows with him and they said he’s fair. I need exposure. Get my name out there with something spectacular.”
“This one is sure spectacular.” Her mother looked at the one of the man who resembled her neighbor. “It’s dark, brooding…and why do you have a cross there?”
Skye shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. When I get in the zone, I just paint and turn off my thoughts to let whatever comes, come. That’s what emerged.”
Her mother quietly looked through the other prints and soon left.
Skye glanced again at the one of her neighbor. She almost hated to sell it. If she didn’t need the money, she’d keep it. Something about those eyes drew her in. She could stare at it without feeling uncomfortable, which was what happened every time she met Dan’s gaze.
She put the papers back in a file drawer and locked it. She stored stuff on a cloud and in other locations too…reprints could be a moneymaker if she didn’t do well on the original.
Now, as for the subject…? That masterpiece was out of her price range for sure.
~*~
Thursday morning, Dan shredded the miles on the treadmill. Soon Tony was on the one next to him.
“I remember when you struggled to catch up with me. I think over this past year you’ve been building your stamina,” Tony said.
“I was trying to run away from the grief.”
“Did it work?”
Dan shook his head. “Maybe for a moment. Work was where I was able to get lost and set it all aside. There wasn’t much time at the office or in meetings to sit and feel sorry for myself.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t do ministry for the sake of ministry though, do we?”
“What do you mean?” Dan asked.
“I thought the whole point of ministry was helping people grow to become more like Jesus.”
“It is.”
“But if everyone else gets to grow, except you, the whole church loses.”
Dan hopped to set his feet on the sides of the sliding fabric. “Are you saying I helped others at the expense of my own personal growth?”
Tony nodded. “If the shoe fits…”
Dan jumped back on treadmill, grabbed his water, and chugged some down.
“Don’t get mad at the messenger, Dan. You guys held me to the wall with my anger and pride in the past. You didn’t let me stay stuck and, although I wasn’t always grateful at the time, looking back it was the most loving thing you did for me. You forced me to face myself and grow. I would have lost so much more than the life I have now with Renata, without you all pushing me forward.”
“I’m not mad at you. Ticked with myself. There’s something warm and comfortable about the blanket of grief I wrap around myself. I’m not sure who Dan Wink is when that’s ripped away. Have I lost my own identity behind a title and role?”
Tony wiped the sweat off his brow with a towel. “It’s possible, isn’t it? We’ve tried to push you out of the hole, but you’ve resisted. I’m sure Andrew did as well. You kept giving up your vacation and time off to work because there was no one to spend it with. But what about you? Isn’t Dan worth spending time with? I always thought so. Sharon did too. She wouldn’t want you to be suffering like this.”
Dan slowed his machine down. “Want to spot me some weights?”
Tony nodded. “Sure. Give me a few minutes to cool down.”
Dan walked away and almost ran into—Skye? “Oh, sorry.”
“Dan? But of course you would be here. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
He raised an eyebrow as he folded his arms across his chest. She was wearing a respectable T-shirt that revealed far less than most women did at the gym. She tucked it into unusual lightweight cargo-type pants that made her look almost…decent. She possessed a nice figure, and he wondered why she hid it. “I’m here with a friend.”
“I’m here for some Zumba. I find it’s a fun way to burn off some stress.”
“You like those classes?”
Skye nodded. “Yup. So much that I’m a certified instructor.” She glanced at the clock. “Well, enjoy your workout. Gotta go or I’ll be late!” Her ponytail bounced behind her as she headed to one of the classrooms. He’d seen those classes before.
Tony came to stand beside him. “You know her?”
“Yeah. That’s my new neighbor.”
“She’s cute.”
“Sh
e’s not a Christian.”
“So, you moved into a mission field.”
Dan looked at his friend. “You have no idea.” The music started to thump, and Skye started to motion to the participants, most of whom were also dressed in baggier T-shirts. Considering how seductive some of the moves were, he wondered at it all. Except with this class, the moves looked more like fun exercise than hyper-sexual like he expected. “Let’s go.” He patted Tony’s sweaty back and they headed to the weights.
~*~
Dan visited a different church on Sunday. He hoped to be anonymous, but several people there knew him from times they had been at Orchard Hill in the past. And of course, the Adult Ministries pastor, Wally Hanson, had been someone he’d met with periodically to talk about ministry.
“Dan, how are you?” Wally asked as he reached out his hand.
Extending his own, Dan responded. “I’m on a leave of absence. I miss work and it makes me miss Sharon more.”
Wally frowned. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. I can imagine, however, the challenges you face now that all the single ladies target you as potential husband material.”
“How do you deal with that?”
“Very carefully. I try not to date women at the church if I can help it. Usually I can tell pretty quickly during group activities when a woman might be worth pursuing more, but you understand how it is—everyone puts their best face forward when they are on the hunt.”
Dan laughed. “I never thought of myself as prey, but I guess that’s what you and I both are.”
“Well, as you can tell due to my single state, I obviously haven’t succeeded in ending the hunt yet.”
“I’m not ready for any of that.”
“You and Sharon had something special,” Wally said.
“Yeah. And ministry can be isolating. I wonder how she even put up with that and me. I mean, things weren’t perfect and we had our share of heartache, mostly trying to have kids and suffering loss upon loss.”
“When the right woman comes along, you’ll know.”
“Will I? I suspect God would need to whack me upside the head to even think of a relationship or even a friendship with another woman at this point.”
“Remember all the wonderful things a woman brought to your life. Support, companionship, housekeeping.” Wally shook his head. “No, seriously. How often did you need to do laundry or prepare your own meals when you were married?”
“There were times she even mowed the lawn or got the snow blower out because I was busy at church. She was a saint.”
Wally shook his head. “She wasn’t a saint. She had faults and did things that drove you crazy. Don’t make her out to be something she wasn’t and set a standard that no woman could fill, not even Sharon were she alive.”
Dan sighed. “Yeah, well, I should get home.”
“Yeah, because your books, bed, and maybe a football game await you. How’s that working for you?”
“Wally, I’m a little ticked with you right now, so leaving seems the better part of valor. I wasn’t given a leave of absence to find a wife. That’s not the point.”
“You have time on your hands and a few weeks to at least look. Don’t waste it.” Wally patted him on the back. “Have a good afternoon, my friend.”
Dan growled as he walked away. Any woman who had him in his sights would have been running the other way at that moment. How dare Wally speak about Sharon like that? She was—
Human. Fallible. She couldn’t balance a checkbook to save her life. She hated cleaning the toilets and let them get so bad he would be forced to finally take on the task.
He’d happily scrub toilets and balance the checkbook if it meant she were by his side. He was stuck with all the chores as it was anyway.
He trudged up the stairs to his apartment. Why did he pick the second floor? Oh, yeah, because people who move at the beginning of the year, in the middle of winter have few choices available to them.
~*~
Skye witnessed a different side of Dan Thursday morning. Hot, sweaty, guard down. He looked more human to her. As she peeked out at the man coming up the stairs a few days later, she wondered why he looked so sad. She cracked open her door and when he glanced up and paused at the top of the stairs, she gathered up her courage to talk to him.
“You look sad.”
He shrugged.
“I don’t bite and I can be a good listener.”
“Thanks, Skye.” He frowned and tilted his head. “You looked good teaching your class. I was impressed. I always thought that kind of group was far more about, well, sex, than it was about fitness.”
“Some of the salsa moves can be perceived that way, but I don’t present them in such a manner. I do believe some things should be left for the bedroom.”
An eyebrow shot up.
“I’m not propositioning the pastor. Don’t worry. I’m not in the market any more than you are. I would think it would be accurate to say as a friend, I’m a safe bet.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the offer.” He looked to the side as if trying to see past her. “Kids?”
“At Grandma’s for the day so I can paint. They get antsy in this tiny space, and it’s too cold to go outside.”
“I’m glad you have support. It has to be hard being a single mom.”
“You have no idea. I wouldn’t trade my kids for the world though. I wish they had a decent father figure in their life. Especially for Quinn right now. It will be important for Meghan too at some point.”
“That’s tough.”
“That’s life. You church people don’t like divorce, but my husband was stealing money, doing drugs, and was generally mean. I left to save myself and my children.”
“Why would I condemn you for divorce?”
“Because your God is against divorce.”
“You said you don’t believe in the God of the Bible.”
“I don’t believe in Him.”
“So why would you think I should hold you to a standard you don’t buy into?”
“I don’t understand.”
“While it’s true that divorce can have a negative impact, divorce happens even amongst Christian couples. Sin is ugly. But God does allow for divorce in some cases. Even so, why would I expect you to adhere to a biblical principle when you don’t claim the faith? Why should I judge you for that?” He leaned against the wall now with his arms folded.
“I thought that’s what Christians did. Condemn everyone that doesn’t agree with their way of life.”
“There are some things God clearly states are wrong. Some are universal, like killing, stealing, lying…but others are unique. The fact is, Christianity isn’t about a list of do’s and don’ts. It’s more about a relationship, one on one with the one man who died to save your life and rose again to prove His love for you.”
“Jesus.”
“So, you do know about the faith.”
“Not much. I’ve listened to stuff on the television when I couldn’t sleep with a baby, or just because…”
“Not all of those preachers are accurate representations of the gospel. But I doubt I am either. I’m still human and make mistakes.”
“Well, Dan, there are mistakes, and then, there are mistakes. I’m sure your holy God could never forgive mine.”
“You doubt He’s big enough?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he turned and unlocked his door. “Enjoy your time to paint, Skye.” He closed the door behind him. The lock clicked.
She backed into her own apartment and wandered back to her blank canvas without really knowing what to think about their odd conversation. She poured all that confusion into her art.
When she was done, she stood back, shocked. This canvas was more abstract than previous attempts. There was a shadow of a cross, hidden in the midst of the color—and on her knees before it was a young woman who looked suspiciously like her.
FOUR
Suppressed grief suffocates, it ra
ges within the breast,
and is forced to multiply its strength.
Ovid
He’d finally done it. He checked in at the clinic and sat down to wait in a crisp room with clean lines and classical music playing. A few other people waited as well. Was it a rule that no one could make eye contact with anyone else in a mental health clinic? The lady in the corner clicked a pen open and closed in time with the music, which made it less irritating than it might have been otherwise. A sullen teen slumped in his chair next to whom he assumed was his mother who hugged her purse close as if to defend herself from attacks on her parenting skills. Another man flipped through a magazine, obviously not reading anything.
Then there was Pastor Dan Wink. No. Just Dan Wink. Drop the pastor. He wasn’t really sure who he was anymore anyway. He laughed at the memory of Skye thinking he was a model. It was probably the nicest compliment he’d had in a long time. Sharon used to tell him how great he looked, but she was his wife. What was interesting was that in spite of his visual appeal, Skye wasn’t interested in him as anything more than a neighbor and maybe a friend.
A man couldn’t be friends with a woman. It couldn’t be safely done. Anyway, she didn’t believe in Jesus and there was no way he’d marry someone like her.
Marry? He rolled his eyes at himself. Where’d that thought come from? Wally. Of course. As if his leave of absence was to find a wife. Sure he had needs, but he was fine. He was working out more and in the best shape of his life.
An older woman came to the lobby. “Dan?”
He rose.
“Follow me, please.”
He obeyed, trailing after her down the hallway to a spacious office decorated in peach, cream, and teal.
“Sit wherever you’re most comfortable.”
“Really? Because it would be in that chair behind the desk counseling you.”
She smiled and nodded. “I’m Shirley Moore, your therapist, Pastor Dan.”
He settled into the corner of a loveseat and she sat in a chair across from him. She was probably in her early sixties, with short, snow-white hair combed back off her face. She reminded him of his grandmother when he was a young boy. Her eyes were lined with wrinkles and genuine warmth came through her smile. He allowed his body to relax.
Bratwurst and Bridges Page 3