Hope's Corner

by Chris Keniston

  The flash of white across his father’s knuckles as his fingers tightened on the arms of the chair sent another spark of concern skittering through Jeff. Only when his dad released the viselike grip and took in a deep breath did Jeff feel some of the fear for his father slip away. Some.

  “This is your home,” his dad said softly, so softly Jeff could barely hear him. “You’ve known some of these folks as long as you’ve been alive. That’s precious when you’re called to lead. It won’t be easy starting over some place new.”

  “I won’t be starting over at a new church.” He spun about, picked up Kenny’s brass baby shoe paperweight from his father’s desk, unable to face him and still say the words. “Thought I might go back to Austin, put my MBA to good use.” Jeff glanced over at his dad. “Banking is a solid career.”

  Most of the color drained from Harlon’s face. “You can’t mean that.”

  Jeff actually heard the chair groan under his father’s tight grip. “I’m afraid so. I’m only fooling myself. These people need you, not me.”

  “I beg to differ with you. I’m not saying it was God’s will I be incapacitated with a bad heart. But as sure as I’m here living and breathing today, I know it was God’s plan to have a strong man of God ready to step into my place. You’ve done well, son. Why would you throw it all away?”

  His gaze veered out the window. Why? How could he tell his father how badly he’d failed? He hadn’t saved Jenny. He couldn’t take the chance of losing someone else. Pam’s family expected him to help her. But they were wrong. His father would know how to save her from her past. Not him. “There’s nothing to throw away.”

  The unexpected silence drew his attention away from the window. “Pop?”

  “That’s wonderful news. I knew you’d trample all over those people if you actually got them in court. But, I’m afraid I’ve got my hands full at the moment.” Pam juggled her cell phone with one shoulder while mixing some sauce into a bowl of macaroni for Emily. “Can I call you later?”

  “Well that depends, beautiful. I’ll be out for dinner celebrating in about an hour and will be turning off my phone.”

  Part of her was thankful Greg hadn’t been on a date the night Travis died. If he had been, he wouldn’t have stopped by their house unexpectedly, and he wouldn’t have found her in time to call 9-1-1 and save her life. But her heart resented that he hadn’t shown up soon enough to save them both. It was hard to stay thankful for being alive with Travis gone.

  “Well….” Pam caught the way Etta slanted a glance at her then quickly averted her eyes. “You go enjoy your dinner and don’t worry about me. I’m in good hands.”

  “Then everything is going well?” Greg asked.

  “I’m feeding my neighbor’s grandbaby, about to have homemade spaghetti sauce with dinner, and haven’t had a…” she lowered her voice, whispering into the phone, “you know in a while.”

  “Good! Must be all that home cooking. You were right going home. Even if things aren’t the same around here without you.”

  “Flatterer.” She couldn’t help but smile, even though the phone beeped in her ear every time she’d pinch her shoulder too tightly, and her favorite blouse was painted with imprints of Emily’s sauce-covered fingers. “I really have to go now.”

  “Be good, sweets.”

  Pam slipped the phone into her pocket and wiped some of the excess sauce from her clothes. “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” Etta pulled the garlic bread from the oven. “A special friend?”

  Pam nodded, and reached for a rag to wipe the excess sauce from her blouse. “My husband’s best friend.”

  “You and he are close, are you?”

  There was no missing the concerned tone of Etta’s voice. The fear that Pam already had a man in her life was etched in Etta’s prim expression. This wasn’t good. Obviously Etta was still thinking in terms of her and Jeff. She didn’t want Etta building false hope, but it wasn’t fair to let her think Greg was more than a good friend. There would never be another man in her life. Somehow she’d have to make Etta understand. “Greg feels responsible for me. He wasn’t convinced my moving home was a good idea. I’m sure he feels he owes it to Travis to keep an eye on me. In a way, I’ve become some sort of best friend by proxy.”

  “I see.” Etta flashed a fragile smile, then looked up at the clock on the wall. “If my husband and son don’t get out here soon, we’re going to be eating soggy pasta.” Sifting a strand of spaghetti out with a fork, she nibbled on a small piece and scrunched her face. “Would you please go see what’s taking those two so long? I’m going to pour out the water. Better to have cold spaghetti than mushy spaghetti.”

  “I’ll check on what’s keeping the men.”

  Pastor Parker’s study was the first door on the left, down the hall from the kitchen. Jeff’s voice easily carried out of the room. “There’s nothing to throw away… Pop?… Pop!”

  His frantic cry brought Pam running into the room. Pastor Harlon sat slumped in the chair with Jeff curled around him, an ear pressed to his father’s chest, his face pale as chalk.

  Dear God, not again. Grabbing her phone, she dialed 9-1-1.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  In less than an hour word had spread quickly through town. Prayer chains had been started. The church doors had been unlocked. As they’d done earlier in the year when Jeff’s father had his heart attack and emergency surgery, folks would take turns at church ensuring twenty-four hours of prayer.

  To Jeff, the short while they’d been in the bright blue and white waiting room had felt like an eternity. Unable to reach Kenny on his cell, Jeff had left a brief voice mail simply asking the youngest Parker to call. With every second that passed, he prayed by the time Kenny got the message there would be good news, and they wouldn’t have to tell their youngest sibling to fly home like the wind. Danny and his wife, Terri, huddled in one corner. Carol Ann and his mom sat across from them, side by side, holding hands.

  Seated at the small wooden children’s table in the opposite corner, Pam managed to keep Emily and Gavin entertained with an array of puzzles, crayons, and a new version of Go Fish.

  Fueled with worry, and guilt, Jeff couldn’t seem to stay still. He’d paced the small room from the moment they’d brought his father in. He should have known better than to confront his father. This wasn’t the time to tell his father his plans. Jeff had known that. Not until pastor Harlon was back to work full-time would he have been ready to hear the news. But his father wasn’t coming back to work. Not full-time, not part-time. Jeff had to say something. He’d had no choice. Damn. “You’d think by now someone would have some information for us.”

  “I’d like to think no news is good news.” His mom blew out a heavy breath. She hadn’t said much. Jeff knew she’d been silently praying for the man she’d devoted most of her adult life to.

  “Mrs. Parker.” Dressed in her nurse’s scrubs, Sandra Quinn walked through the doorway.

  Etta Mae smiled politely. “How nice of you to come, dear.”

  “I just heard what happened. I’m not scheduled to go on duty for another hour, but I thought I might be able to help.”

  Letting go of her mother’s hand, Carol Ann stood and stepped up to Sandra. “Can you find out how my father’s doing? No one is telling us anything.”

  “I’ve already been inside.” Sandra smiled at Carol Ann and walked over to where Etta Mae was still seated. “Pastor Parker is stable and asking for you. If you’ll come with me?” She extended her hand to Jeff’s mom and addressed the rest of the group. “There was a nasty accident on Old Town Road. It’s a little harried back there, but the doctor should be out soon to update everyone.”

  “Then he’s okay?” Anticipation caught in Jeff’s throat. His father had to be all right. He just had to.

  “The doctor will have to fill you in. Try not to worry.” Sandra flashed a reassuring smile in Jeff’s direction, but it didn’t help. He needed to see his father for hims
elf.

  Even after Sandra and Etta Mae walked down the hall and out of sight, no one moved. Jeff glanced back at the children’s table. Pam stood and inched her way forward with Emily perched on her hip.

  “Was it another heart attack?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jeff answered, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her and Emily into his arms. Not sure if he wanted to offer comfort or be comforted. “The doctor should be out soon. Thanks to Sandra at least now we know Dad is stable.”

  “Thank God,” Pam said softly. At the same moment, heavy with relief, Carol Ann fell into the chair beside them, and Terri burst into tears.

  “Honey, stable is a good thing. If they were prepping him for emergency surgery like last time, they wouldn’t let Mom in to see him.” Danny soothed his wife and glanced up at Jeff. “I think it would be best if I took Terri and the kids home.”

  “I don’t want to leave. Not yet. Not till we know more.” Terri wiped a tear with the back of her hand and rubbed her tummy with the other.

  “I know. Neither do I, but at least we know Dad’s stable, and you and the kids need to rest. Jeff will call us if there’s more news.”

  Terri glanced at her son still coloring at the back of the room, then slid her gaze to Pam and Emily. Without a word she nodded her head and eased out of the chair. “But I want to know right away if anything changes.”

  Jeff and Carol Ann nodded.

  In a few minutes Danny had all the children’s paraphernalia tucked away neatly on the shelves and his family ready to go.

  For the first time ever, as Jeff watched his brother walk down the hall with his own family, a heavy sense of longing settled over him. Watching Terri lean against her husband, his arm around her waist, each holding a child, reminded him how empty his life had become.

  “Is it all right if I stay a little longer?” Pam stood beside him, her hand on his arm.

  It had been Pam who called for an ambulance. Before he could reach for his phone, she had dialed 9-1-1, comforted his mother, and managed to care for Emily as well. She’d been amazing. “Please.”

  “Would you like something to drink? Coffee, cola, tea?”

  “No. Thank you. I just want to hear what the doctor has to say.”

  “Carol Ann? How about you? Can I get you something to drink? You didn’t have time for dinner. I’m sure I can find a snack machine.”

  “Thanks, Pam, but I’m with Jeff. What’s keeping the doctor?”

  “I don’t know.” Jeff looked down the hall.

  “Your father’s a strong man.” Pam linked her arm in Jeff’s and guided him over to the chairs. “He’ll be just fine. I know it.”

  The next thing Jeff knew, he was seated in a middle row of chairs, and Pam was handing him a hot cup of steaming tea. He hadn’t even noticed when she’d walked away. “What’s taking so long?”

  Before anyone could comment, the doctor walked into the room. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come speak to you sooner.” He gestured to the seats along the wall, and after a brief moment of shuffling about, everyone was seated around the doctor. “We’re shorthanded tonight, and an accident came in just after your father arrived.”

  Carol Ann nodded. “Sandra Quinn told us.”

  “Yes. I noticed her with your mother and father. Well.” He slapped his hands on his thighs. “The good news is all the tests are normal. Your father didn’t have a heart attack.”

  “Thank God.” Jeff blew out a deep sigh of relief. “Then why did he pass out?”

  “Most likely his blood pressure medicine needs to be adjusted. Until we know for certain, he’ll need to stay overnight for observation. We’ll move him shortly, and the nurse will be able to tell you the room number at that time.”

  “Thank you,” three voices echoed.

  “There.” Pam flashed a timid smile. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Hmm.” Jeff focused on the long empty hallway. His father may not have had a heart attack, but from where he stood, everything was far from fine.

  The plastic-covered seats in the waiting area had gone from uncomfortable to borderline torture. No matter how Pam shifted, the kink in her lower back was there to stay. She probably should have headed home hours ago, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. It was long past the end of visiting hours, and Etta Mae was still sitting by Pastor Harlon’s bed. The thought made Pam smile. She doubted a team of Navy SEALs could have moved that woman from her husband’s side. It was certainly beyond the nursing staff’s skills.

  One by one they’d explained to the determined woman that she couldn’t stay past visiting hours. And one by one, each of the nurses had walked out of the room shaking their heads mumbling words like fiddle-faddle, poppycock, and hogwash. Two hours later Etta Mae was still glued to her husband’s side, and Pam couldn’t blame her. Had there been a glimmer of hope for Travis, had her presence contributed one iota to his recovery, she would have risked eternity in hell to stay holding his hand.

  Of course, she never got the chance. Travis was gone before help arrived. There was nothing anyone could do. Not Greg, not the police, not the paramedics. At least that’s what everyone had said. She’d passed out during the attack. Couldn’t remember a thing, only what she’d been told. A blessing everyone insisted.

  But she wasn’t convinced. Especially now, waiting here with Jeff and Carol Ann as each took turns keeping their mother company, Pam desperately wanted those last minutes with her husband. She didn’t care how badly either of them had been hurt, she wanted those few minutes to tell him one last time how much she loved him, to hold him in her arms, and when all hope was lost, say one last good-bye.

  “I don’t think there’s any convincing my mother to leave.” Pam’s chair shifted as Jeff took a seat beside her. “We’ve all tried,” he said, shaking his head. “When I left the room, Carol Ann was on full throttle. Quietly yelling through clenched teeth, her arms flailing about like a flagman at NASCAR, but Mom’s attention is riveted on Dad. She’s hunkered down for the night.”

  “Can’t they at least find her an empty bed or something, so she can lie down and get some rest?”

  “She won’t move. The nurses have finally caved, and they’re going to see if they can’t find her a more comfortable chair. One of them is off now hunting for an empty recliner in one of the family rooms.”

  “What about you and Carol Ann?”

  “Carol Ann’s going to stay and make sure Mom’s okay.”

  “And you’re going to stay and make sure Carol Ann’s okay?”

  “No. I’m taking you home. It’s late, and there’s no reason for you to lose a good night’s sleep too.”

  “Oh, no. I can call one of my brothers to take me back to the house. It’s not too late.”

  “Yes, it is. Mom would never forgive me, if I didn’t see you home safely.”

  Pam smiled at visions of Etta Mae waving a wooden spoon at Jeff, telling him that she had raised her sons better than to let a woman find her own way home. “I suppose you’re right.”

  By the time Pam slipped into Pastor Harlon’s room for a quick good-bye, a nurse had already confiscated a somewhat more comfortable chair, and Etta Mae was leaning back, eyes half closed, her hand outstretched, tightly gripping her husband’s. A vise squeezed Pam’s heart. Resentment at having her last moments with Travis stolen from her gurgled to the surface. Once again she shoved it back into a dark buried corner of her mind. “Jeff’s taking me home. I’ll keep the whole family in my prayers.”

  “Thank you, dear. For everything.” Etta glanced at Jeff for a brief second then looked back to Pam. “You’re a treasure.”

  The car had barely turned the corner out of the parking lot when Pam found herself fighting the urge to nod off. It had been a long day. She hadn’t done much physically, but mentally she was drained dry.

  If she weren’t so tired, she’d indulge in a long hot soak in the old bathtub; except the way she felt, she’d probably fall asleep and drown. No,
tonight it was straight to bed. Or maybe the couch would be closer to the door. “Oh, fish.” She turned to Jeff with only one eye open. “Do you have keys to your mom’s house? I left my purse in the living room.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Good.” She closed her other eye. Just a few minutes to rest her eyelids. One of those power naps. Forty seconds.

  Such a beautiful sunny day. She loved picnics in the park. Even though they could afford nice restaurants, it was more fun to bring a basket of fried chicken with homemade potato salad and a bottle of white wine. Even in the middle of the big city, it always felt like she and Travis were the only two people in the world.

  Travis? Where’d he go? He was right here beside her. “Travis?” Why would he wander off? The sun was setting. It was late, growing cold. “Travis.” So hard to breathe. The air was hot and thick. She tried to get up, get away, look for Travis, but she couldn’t move. Her arms frozen. Sharp pains stabbed at her side. “Travis, help me.”

  So hard to move. Her fingers swirled at her side. The wine spilled. Not white wine. Red wine. Red blood. Her blood. Travis? Where was Travis? God, the pain. The lights. Hands, big hands, holding her, pinning her down, hurting her, strangling her.

  He’d pulled up to his mother’s house just as Pam started muttering to herself. It didn’t take a genius to recognize this was the onset of a nightmare.

  Hurrying, he came around the front of the car to her side. There’d barely been enough time to open the door and lean inside in an attempt to soothe her awake, when Pam sprang up screaming, “NO!”, and clocked Jeff with an unexpected right cross.

  Her fists beat against his chest. The tighter he tried to hold her, the harder she pounded him. “Pam, honey. It’s okay. It’s me. No one is going to hurt you. Please.”

  Drenched in sweat and shaking with fear, her gaze locked on his, focused. The sheer terror that had been in her eyes moments before seemed to dim as the light of awareness grew stronger. “Oh, God,” she whispered, then collapsed into his arms.