Bratwurst and Bridges

by Baganz, Susan M. ;

  “To do with what?”

  She shook her head and mumbled, “Never mind.” She turned on her fuzzy-booted heel, entered her apartment and slammed the door.

  Dan shook his head. What an odd day. For some reason people were angry with him and he had no idea why. Locking the door to his apartment and hanging up his coat he grinned.

  Just like an ordinary day in church ministry.

  ~*~

  He made it to his next counseling appointment.

  “How are you doing, Dan?” Shirley asked as he settled into the loveseat.

  He shrugged. “Been working out. Had some trouble at the apartment because of a neighbor’s ex-boyfriend.” He explained what happened.

  “How is your depression?”

  Dan looked down at his fingernails. He held them up. “My nails are growing.”

  “You’d been biting them?”

  He nodded. “I miss Sharon. I’m angry that she left me. I’m still not sure who I am outside of work. Everything we did, we did together, other than my visits to the Y. She wasn’t a gym rat.”

  “You can’t be at the YMCA all day. What are you doing to fill your time?”

  “Play my guitar. Dishes, laundry, feed myself. Journal. Still meeting with my accountability group. I’ve had a few run-ins with Skye.”

  “Skye?”

  “The young woman across the hall I told you about.”

  “Are you attracted to her?”

  He shrugged. “She’s pretty in her own way. She’s not someone I would ever date.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, she doesn’t have a relationship with Christ for one. Secondly, she has piercings, probably a tattoo and dresses, well, let’s just say she’s not ‘pastor’s wife material.’”

  “There’s a list of qualifications to be a pastor’s wife?”

  “No, but I couldn’t see her in that role.”

  “What role is that? The role Sharon filled?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do all pastors’ wives at your church do the things Sharon did?”

  “No. They’re all different.”

  “Marriage is a blending of the lives and personalities of two different people. Is it possible Sharon lost herself in the role of being a pastor’s wife?”

  Dan’s heart raced. “Are you saying she didn’t want to do what she did? Serving me and alongside me?”

  “I didn’t know her. What were her hobbies? What did she do when you weren’t around?”

  “Cleaned, cooked, laundry, prepared her Bible studies for her small group.”

  “What did she do for fun? Did she have close friends she connected with?”

  “Who can be a close friend to a pastor’s wife? She understood too much about the church. She had a college friend she kept in touch with, but they hadn’t seen each other for years.”

  “Why not?”

  “It would have meant her traveling out West.”

  “She couldn’t leave you for a week to visit a friend?”

  “It would have been expensive.”

  “She didn’t hold a job?”

  Dan shook his head. “We always planned for her to stay home and raise our kids.”

  “I see.”

  His head dropped back against the chair. “I’m a hypocrite.”

  “Why?”

  “I told someone the other day that a man who loves a woman treats her as if she were a precious treasure. He takes care of her. He understands what she loves and what her dreams are and works to help her reach them. He delights in making her happy. While I treated Sharon well, did I really know of any of her other dreams besides being a mother? Did I cherish her like she deserved? She had an aneurism. I didn’t even realize she was sick. The doctors said there would likely have been no symptoms and her death was quick and painless. She didn’t even know what hit her.”

  “And you still don’t have a clue what hit you and it’s been slow torture.”

  “You got that right.”

  “I think you need to give yourself grace. From all you’ve told me, you were a wonderful husband to Sharon. Looking back now as you move forward, there are lessons to be learned. No woman is ever going to replace Sharon in your heart or memories. But by the same token, it’s not wise to rule out a woman because she doesn’t ‘look’ the part of a pastor’s wife.”

  “She doesn’t know Christ. Right there, it’s a no-go.”

  Shirley nodded. “Have you shared with her?”

  “Not directly. I’ve asked questions. She recently inquired about coming to church.”

  “You’ve mentioned this woman quite a bit today. What does she do?”

  “She’s an artist, teaches Zumba at the YMCA, and has two small children she’s raising by herself.”

  “Sounds like you admire her.”

  “I suppose at some level I do.”

  “You find her attractive.”

  “I’m a man. I find many women attractive. It doesn’t mean I want to date them or envision a life with them. Besides, I’m not ready for a relationship.”

  “I wonder if you are using Sharon as a shield to keep you from really engaging in life on your own.”

  “We met in college and were inseparable. I don’t remember not having Sharon in my life. There’s never really been a ‘me’ without her until…” He took a deep breath.

  “So you met her when you were, what, eighteen?”

  Dan nodded. “We married after graduation from seminary.”

  “You dated six years?”

  Dan nodded.

  “And stayed pure?”

  “It wasn’t easy, but I was so busy studying and she was too…we really didn’t do much else. Not many opportunities to get into trouble.”

  Shirley shook her head. “So you didn’t romance her.”

  Dan frowned. “We were in college. Sure we went out, but our dates often involved studying.”

  “Did you play together?”

  He swallowed hard. “I don’t know that we did. Crap. I was an awful husband.”

  “Sharon didn’t complain, did she?”

  “No. She never did.”

  “Then don’t beat yourself up for that. Look back without the rose-colored glasses and realize as much as you were in love, life wasn’t perfect for either of you. You both missed out on something precious.”

  Tears threatened and Dan’s breath shuddered. “I came here so you could help me feel better, not worse.”

  “Understanding the past can be a bridge to a better future for you, Dan. A future where you are more than a pastor, but a man. A man who might love a woman. A man who can play. A man who has a passion for more than putting in sixty hours or more a week at church.”

  “How do I learn to play at my age?”

  “Your neighbor has kids, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe you should babysit them and they could show you how.”

  “Me? Babysit the four-year-old terror and his shy sister?”

  “You wanted to be a father for years—maybe at some point God will bring that dream to light. Consider it practice.”

  “As I don’t plan on remarrying, I don’t understand the point.”

  “Just because God has said, ‘Not yet,’ doesn’t mean ‘never.’”

  ~*~

  Skye struggled with the groceries. The kids waited inside the door. She wanted to get them all upstairs in one attempt, but one of the bags split open and cans of food went rolling through the snow and into the parking lot.

  Haunted dreams kept her from a good night’s sleep and now this? She let the tears fall.

  “Are you hurt? Can I help?” Dan strode toward her.

  “I’m not hurt and yes, I would gladly accept help.”

  “Where are the kids?” He started to chase the cans, collect them from the parking lot, and redistribute them in other bags.

  “Inside the door.”

  He soon had the rest of the bags in his arms and hanging from his hands. He
was able to reach high enough to catch the trunk door and slam it shut. “Let’s go.”

  She trudged to the door, which Quinn opened. The kids scampered up the staircase ahead of them and Skye followed, trailed by her beast of burden, Dan. He followed her into the apartment and set the bags on the kitchen table. He stepped back into the open doorway. One foot in the hall. “All better?”

  “Thank you.” She nodded. The kids had dropped their coats and she reached down to pick them up. Her phone rang. She held up a finger to Dan indicating she didn’t want him to leave yet.

  “Hello?”

  It was the fitness director on the other line. “Claudine is sick. If you can’t take her class, I’ll have to cancel. You get the pay if you do it.”

  “What time?”

  “In an hour.”

  “OK. I’ll be there.”

  She set the phone down. “Picked up a Zumba class. I’ll need to put the kids in the childcare while I teach. It almost doesn’t make it worth it.”

  “I could hang with the kids while you go teach.”

  Skye had been putting things in her cupboard. She slowly closed the door and stood to stare at him. “Excuse me?”

  “I said I can hang with the kids while you go.”

  “Do you have any experience?”

  “I was a kid once upon a time.”

  Skye bit her lip. She hated dragging them out into the cold again and it would save her money to not put them in day care.

  “OK. Can you be back here in twenty minutes?”

  Dan nodded and left.

  Skye unpacked the groceries and started water boiling on the stove to make macaroni and cheese from a box. Dan would need to feed them, but at least he wouldn’t have to cook. While waiting for the water to boil she ran to her bedroom and changed her clothes. She tossed her shoes and a towel into her bag and ran a brush through her hair.

  By the time Dan retuned she was ready.

  “The kids are free to watch television. They love to be read to. The rule with the toys is put them away when you are done and before playing with something else. And no Legos in the living room. Dinner is on the stove and you can warm up some green beans in the microwave. No milk to drink. Just water. Applesauce for dessert. That’s in the fridge.”

  She pointed to a piece of paper taped to the fridge. “Here’s my cell, although I turn my phone off while I teach. Here’s the number for my mom, poison control, and their medical doctor. I’ll be back in about ninety minutes. Any questions?”

  Dan’s eyes were wide and she feared he was going to retract his offer.

  He shook his head. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine. Try not to worry and enjoy your class.”

  Skye smiled. “I enjoy teaching. Thank you.” She squeezed his arm gently before grabbing her keys and heading out the door.

  The whole way to the YMCA she kept wondering why a single man as good looking as Dan would ever willingly take on her two monsters. Sure, she loved them, but he really had no idea what he had gotten himself into. She almost felt sorry for the man.

  Almost.

  She grinned. She was going to really enjoy her class.

  ~*~

  Well, here was his chance. Didn’t expect it to come this fast though, but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do this evening. He checked the food on the stove. Kids probably didn’t need to eat for a little while yet. He wandered into the living room and spied the desk in the corner. It was a taller one than usual with a slanted surface and several pieces of paper spread out. He picked one up. This must be her work. She was really good. He found some photos of paintings he supposed were hers. He sat back on the stool that was there.

  Wow.

  He stared at one painting and suspected that the real thing had been even more dramatic. This girl wasn’t pretending. She was world-class. He forced himself to walk away. Looking at her paintings might be construed a violation of her privacy. Would he want someone looking through his journals? He wrote his heart out, but she put it in her colored brush-strokes. He sat down to keep an eye on the kids as they vegged in front of the television.

  “Mr. Dan. You’re b’aysitting us?” Meghan asked. She came to sit next to him with a book. Dr. Seuss. Couldn’t go wrong with him. “Can you read this to me?”

  “I might be able to manage that.”

  The television clicked off and Quinn came to sit on the other side of him. Dan shrugged, opened the book, and read it to them. Soon a stack of five books were on the coffee table.

  “I’m hungry.” Quinn announced. Dan followed them to the kitchen, heated up their dinner, and got it on the table for them. Quinn was going to dig in.

  “Wait,” Dan said. “Shouldn’t we pray first?”

  “Why? God doesn’t need to save mac ‘n cheese.” Quinn lifted a fork to his mouth.

  “No. He doesn’t, but doesn’t He deserve to be thanked for the fact that you have food to eat?”

  Quinn frowned and dropped the fork. Both kids bowed their heads.

  “Dear God. Thank You for this food and the hands that prepared it. Thank You for letting me spend time with Quinn and Meghan. Amen.”

  Meghan looked up to him. “I eat now?”

  Dan smiled. “Yes, you can eat now.” He sat down at the table as they ate and listened to their chatter. He was surprised when Quinn changed the subject and blurted out news.

  “Mommy said we don’t need to see Daddy anymore. She told her lawyer to make that happen.”

  “You don’t like your father?” Dan asked.

  “No,” Quinn stated.

  Meghan nodded. “Daddy mean.”

  Having met their father, he figured the kids weren’t exaggerating. He found his admiration for Skye climbing.

  When the kids were done, he cleared off the table, put food away, and loaded the dishwasher. He trailed them down the hall to their room. Play? The therapist wanted him to play?

  Maybe these kids could show him how.

  SIX

  Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.

  Emily Dickinson

  “No, silly. Like this.” Meghan giggled.

  Skye had let herself in, closing the door quietly. Class went well and she longed for a hot shower. She peeked into the kitchen. It was spotless. She noted the stack of books on the living room table.

  “I’ve never done this before,” a deep voice spoke.

  “You’ve never played with Legos?” the little boy asked, shock evident in his voice.

  “Nope. So can I put this piece here?”

  “You’re not going to put a door on your house?”

  “Is that what this is?”

  Skye peered into the room. Dan sprawled out on his stomach on the floor surrounded by blocks and children. There was something sexy about a man playing on the floor with little kids. She shook herself for even going there in her thoughts.

  Quinn and Meghan soaked up the attention. When did she last sit and play with them like this? She was always busy. She folded her arms and waited. It was several minutes before Meghan glanced up and noted her presence.

  “Hi, Mom.” She gave Skye a little wave, blew a kiss, and went right back to helping Dan with his project. He turned his head and flipped to his side.

  “Ouch!” He moved a few blocks out of the way and looked back again. She failed to hide a grin. Her feet had met those plastic blocks one too many times. “You’re home. How did class go?”

  “It was good. Full gym but lots of fun. Do you mind staying until I’ve showered?”

  Dan rose to a sitting position. “No. I really can’t stay. It wouldn’t be—”

  “Proper?”

  Dan frowned. “Thanks for teaching me how to play Legos.”

  Meghan threw her arms around Dan’s neck and planted a wet kiss to his cheek. “You best ba’ysitter eber!”

  “Yeah, you were fun.” Quinn gave him a high five.

  “Thanks, guys.” He gave Meghan a hug in return and rose to his feet.
“Guess I’ll head out.

  “You’ve been such a huge help today. I really appreciate it.”

  He grabbed his keys by the door and turned to face her as he held the knob. “It was…enlightening. Thanks for letting me help. You’re a great mom, Skye.” He turned and left, pulling the door shut behind him. She watched through the peephole as he entered his own apartment and closed the door.

  Since the kids were playing well she took a quick shower and came out to fix some food for herself. She hated that it was dark so early. This year’s winter was on track to break records for how cold it was, but she didn’t think that was something to brag about. It wasn’t a selling point for living here…but New York had far more snow and she didn’t think she’d like to leave her mom.

  She checked her e-mail and found a note from the art dealer. Her painting of Dan had sold for an exorbitant price and a publisher wanted to run a feature on her art in their magazine. A deep sense of loss rooted inside. That painting would never return to her. Sure, she owned the digital reproductions. One already hung in her bedroom. She never before attached herself so to a painting and didn’t rejoice in its sale. The money would go a long way toward supporting her and the kids. She might even be able to get her car repair work done now.

  She buried her head in her hands. Car repairs, kids, her ex, and an unexpected income. She hated bearing this burden alone. Sure, her mom would help when she could and Dan was a lifesaver tonight. That paycheck would help. Who knew how long before the money from New York would come and there were other paintings still for sale.

  But the one of Dan—she wondered who bought it.

  ~*~

  On Sunday morning, she struggled to get the kids ready on time for church. She wasn’t even sure what she should wear. Did they expect her to come in a dress? She didn’t own any. Jeans were her normal uniform when she wasn’t teaching Zumba. She grabbed her nicest pair and soft fuzzy sweater that matched her boots for texture. She knew the boots were silly, but they were comfortable and kept her feet warm.

  She managed to find the church, park, and soon the kids were settled into their classrooms. What they might teach a two and four-year-old was beyond her but it couldn’t be worse than what they had been taught by Riley. She walked into the sanctuary and struggled to find a place to sit. She hung toward the back and slipped into a row. She moved to find a spot where there would be open chairs around her. She draped her coat on one, having forgotten to hang it up. She caught the notice on a screen to turn her cell phone off or to silent. No problem. Who would need her right now anyway?