The Healer

by Dee Henderson

  “I know,” Kate replied. “She brought them over.”

  The man sat down heavily on the tile inside the doorway. He’d cried himself out. It was hard to see on a proud man, who from everything she had been able to learn had tried to be a good father. Kate handed him a soda. “I’m sorry about your sons.”

  “Greg did not kill Tim.”

  “The ballistics prove that,” Kate reassured again as she had done many times. “You need to let someone help you.”

  “I’m tired.” He looked at Rachel. “I can’t go to the funeral tomorrow. And I can’t tell Clare that.”

  “She understands when you have to fly and are often gone,” Rachel replied. “Call her and let her know when you will be over to see her and then keep your word. That’s what she needs. To know that you and Sandy are still there for her.”

  “Sandy doesn’t blame me, but she should.”

  “I met your sons, Peter. Would you remember the fact that your boys loved you? The fact that Greg helped Marissa get through this last year? That Tim was Adam’s best friend? They were good kids.”

  “There’s nothing left. My boys are gone, my job.”

  Kate handed him a note. “Sandy asked if you would stay with her and Clare for the coming week. I think you should take her up on it.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Peter, you said you’ve got nothing left. What do you have to lose? I don’t know what caused the divorce, but Sandy was your wife for eighteen years, and it takes about three minutes in her company to realize she still cares about you a great deal. Spend a week with her and your daughter. Clare would find your presence when she came home from the funeral a great help.”

  He rubbed his swollen eyes. “What about all this?”

  “I don’t know about the other guys, but I’m on my day off.” Kate cut the deck of cards and turned up a four of hearts. “You take Rachel’s card and promise to call her if the grief gets bad. You allow me to take that gun, show me where you had it hidden, and give me your word that there are no others in this house. We don’t need to make something of today beyond what it is.”

  He nodded. “I need a shave.”

  Kate offered a smile. “Eat something first. I don’t know about you, but orange soda isn’t the same as what I remember from childhood.”

  Peter chuckled. “I thought it was just my sense of taste dying.”

  “You like pizza?” Kate asked. “The guys say the pizza place on the corner is good. They bought a large hamburger and sausage.”

  Rachel got to her feet. “Is that what I’ve been smelling? If he’s not hungry, I am. I’ll get it.”

  Kate slid her cards into her pocket. “Peter, where did you have the gun hidden?”

  “There’s a safe in the floor in my office. When Sandy last moved furniture she had covered it with the couch.”

  Kate walked into the kitchen first and over to the counter. The gun was a .22 caliber. She unloaded it and secured the weapon. “Show me where that safe is.”

  Rachel handed Kate a bottle of ice water and opened the passenger door for her sister. “You did a great job.”

  Kate took a seat and reached for the seat belt. She buckled in. Rachel could tell Kate’s arm was bothering her as she cradled it against her chest. “I owed his boys.” Kate lowered her head and wiped at the dust that had stuck to the back of her neck with a wet tissue. It left a streak of grime.

  “We’ve got a ton of pages to return, starting with Marcus,” Rachel mentioned as she started the car.

  “You want to do the talking for both of us?” Kate asked.

  “I’m the one losing my voice.”

  “They can find us later.” Kate picked up her phone and turned it off. “I stopped by and saw Jennifer this morning.”

  Rachel looked over at her sister to share a look. “What did you think?”

  “I wish I’d taken that vacation two years ago and gone snorkeling with her in the Gulf.”

  “I’ve got a few of those moments I wish I had taken too,” Rachel replied.

  “When did we stop praying for a miracle?” Kate asked quietly.

  “I felt it start to change when it became clear that God had a plan in mind for Jennifer much more complex than just healing her cancer.”

  “I’ve found myself praying more for us than Jennifer, for those staying behind.”

  “This is going to be a much harder transition than I think any of us are ready for,” Rachel said. “Are you ready for this, Kate?”

  “I’m glad I believe in heaven.”

  “I worry about Stephen.” Rachel knew he was already finding it hard to adjust to the fact the rest of them believed and he did not. He was left out of something that gave them hope, and he had no one to relate to who felt the kind of grief he did—believing that life ended at death.

  “So do I. We’ll keep praying for him.”

  Rachel drew to a stop beside the building where Kate was meeting Dave.

  “Are you heading home next?” Kate asked.

  Rachel held up the hotel card Marcus had given her months before. “I’m going to do follow-up with those students visiting the memorial wall, answer the pages that have come in, and then I’m going to disappear for a few hours. I need some sleep before Tim and Greg’s funeral in the morning. Reporters found my home.”

  Rachel checked into the hotel. As much as she wanted to be in her own home tonight, Gage’s warning that reporters were waiting for her there had made her decision. She wanted privacy more than she did her own pillow.

  She had spent much of her life in hotels and there was a routine for making them comfortable. She hung up her garment bag in the closet as she continued her fifth phone conversation of the evening. “Marissa, did Janie bring by the needlepoint?”

  “It was exactly what I was looking for,” her friend said. “I want to add something to the memorial wall. Someone needs to remember Greg.”

  Rachel knew how hard it was going to be on Marissa not to be at the funerals in the morning. “I have your memorial gift for Sandy. It will make a difference, Marissa, for both Sandy and Clare.”

  “I hope so. Cole came by this afternoon.”

  “Did he?” Rachel had seen him only briefly this morning before the funeral and wasn’t sure what his plans for the day were.

  “He talked with my parents for several hours. I like him, Rae.”

  “So do I.” Rachel sat on the side of the bed. “Is there anything I can do to help you with tomorrow?”

  “Mom and Dad are both going to be here. I’m glad in many ways that their funeral is being kept private. I don’t know that I could handle watching another one on TV.”

  Rachel understood exactly what she meant. “It’s draining.” She checked numbers queued on her pager. “I’ll call you in the morning, M. Don’t hesitate to page me if there is anything I can do for you or one of your friends.”

  “I will. I’m grateful you are a phone call away.”

  “You’ve been making a big difference just calling and talking with your friends, reassuring them. Keep it up, honey. You’re a huge help to me.”

  “And you’re sweet. Cole said I could tell you that.”

  Rachel smiled. “Really? I’m keeping him. Good night, Marissa.”

  “Night, Rae.”

  She hung up the phone, paused to open the carton of orange juice she had bought, and then dialed the next number on her list. The calls now were the second and third follow-up calls after the shooting, most of them simply a reassuring contact to see how the students had handled the funeral this afternoon. Only one student was still on Rachel’s high-concern list, and one of the other counselors, who had worked with her the day of the shooting, was following up in person daily.

  Rachel opened her diary and her Bible, looking for the notes she had made the evening before. In finding reassurance for Adam about heaven, Rachel had found reassurance for herself as well. Heaven was as real as earth. She also made a note to spend some time with Nath
an. He was young, but he knew something was wrong and that his brother was sad. Nathan needed the reassurance too.

  Her pager vibrated and she checked the number. Other calls could wait a few more minutes; she dialed back. “Hello, Cole.”

  “Where are you, darling?”

  The endearment made her feel so special. She pushed pillows into a backrest and leaned against the headboard. “Hiding.”

  “I figured that out two hours ago,” he replied, amused.

  “It’s kind of nice seeing your numbers come across my pager.” She could no longer imagine her life without Cole in it; his presence had so profoundly changed things. There was comfort just in hearing his voice.

  “You’re not going to tell me.”

  “I’m hardly hiding if someone knows where I am,” she teased. “I’ve got two dozen calls to return over the next few hours.” She wanted to be able to give him her full attention when she next saw him. She wanted another one of those long hugs.

  “Are you holding up?”

  “I took your suggestion on the orange juice. I’ll make it. What about you?” Rachel asked.

  “I had a good visit with Marissa and her parents. I can tell why you enjoy her company so much.”

  “I’ve made some great friends over the years. I appreciate you going over to spend time with them.”

  “Kate told me where you were this afternoon,” Cole said.

  “She handled the problem with her usual skill.” Rachel looked at her watch. “Can I attend the funeral with you tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Come over for breakfast if you like and we can go from here.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Anything else I can help you with?” Cole asked.

  “I want a hug tomorrow.”

  “A long one,” Cole promised.

  Another page came in. “I’ll see you in twelve hours.” Rachel said good-bye and took a deep breath. She began working the network of friends, arranging the pages so that one after the other she could talk to a cluster of students who knew each other. It allowed her to gather information even as she gave it out. From her discussions with students at the memorial wall, she had known that this would be a busy night. She hadn’t been ready for this.

  Thirty-three

  The private funeral service for Greg and Tim was scheduled to begin at 10 A.M. Sunday. Rachel was grateful she was with Cole as they entered the cemetery grounds. She came to help ease a family through the grief of saying good-bye. She had to do it when her own heart was incredibly heavy. The funeral service was held in the small chapel on the cemetery grounds so it could be kept out of the range of the media. Cole parked, and they walked over to join Stephen, who had brought Ann and Adam.

  The chapel held about a hundred guests and it had begun to fill. As they entered and Adam saw the flowers and the closed caskets, he stopped. Ann knelt and whispered to him and he gripped her hand. They moved to seats reserved for them at the front right of the chapel. Rachel helped them get settled, asked Cole to save her a seat, and moved back outside to meet the arriving family.

  Four cars came in together. Sandy and Clare were accompanied by Sandy’s sister and husband. Rachel met the group and hugged the boys’ mom. “I’m so sorry, Sandy.”

  “Thank you for sending friends to be with Peter this morning.”

  “Whatever I can do,” Rachel promised from the depth of her heart. She took from her pocket a red-white-and-blue ribbon formed into a heart. “Marissa wanted very much to be here. She sent this for you.”

  Sandy teared up when she saw it and pinned it to her lapel. “Greg was so happy to have her in his life. Please tell her that.”

  “I will.” Rachel knelt down. “Hi, Clare.” She offered the white stuffed rabbit she had brought.

  “It’s sad without my brothers.”

  “I know, honey,” Rae whispered. “Adam is here. You said you wanted to sit with him?”

  The girl solemnly nodded.

  Rachel offered her hand. And the small hand gripped hers.

  Rachel escorted Sandy and Clare and their family into the chapel and to the front row. Clare was clearly relieved to see Adam and sit with him. Rachel had attended many funerals over the years. It was hard for a child to absorb the emotions of such a day and the feeling of anxiousness about what was coming. Adam was feeling the same. He leaned over to talk to Clare and smile at the rabbit she held. Clare smiled back. Sandy settled her arm around her daughter to try to reassure her.

  Rachel slid into her seat beside Cole and was embraced with the comfortable weight of his arm around her shoulders. He was a safe harbor in the midst of this emotional storm. Two caskets, two brothers. The sea of flowers around them and the pictures that remembered the boys as they had been just made the loss heavier. Greg had died with a gun in his hand, angry. No one could go back and give him another chance to make a different decision. Yesterday’s funeral had been tragic, but this one was weighted with a deeper grief.

  The chaplain rose to start the service.

  Sandy did not try to speak during the program. Her sister, brother-in-law, and pastor spoke for her. It was a beautiful service in its music and its words, remembering the love of both a mother and a father for their sons. That Sandy had been able to gather herself to plan it while trying to help her ex-husband through his own crushing grief was all the more a tribute to her sons. For Clare’s sake, Sandy was dealing with it. And Rachel knew that no matter how many people were here to offer support, for Sandy the loneliness of the moment was stark. She leaned forward to rest a hand against Sandy’s shoulder.

  When the service concluded, friends of the family joined together to carry the coffins from the chapel to begin the short trip to the graveside. A solemn procession gathered to follow.

  Chairs had been set up under the canopy where the boys would be laid to rest. Rachel watched Clare cross to take Adam’s hand. He leaned over and whispered something, touching the rabbit she clutched, and for a moment Clare smiled. The two children were leaning on each other and bonding together through this morning.

  The graveside service was mercifully brief.

  When the pastor said the final prayer, silence descended as Sandy lifted Clare in her arms and they walked forward to the side of the caskets to say a final good-bye. As they stepped back, Clare wrapped her arm around her mom’s neck and laid her head down against Sandy’s shoulder.

  In small groups, guests came forward to say private condolences.

  Rachel walked around the chairs to join Ann and Adam.

  “Can I go up to the grave?” Adam whispered to his mom.

  “Go ahead, honey.” Rachel stood with Ann and watched as Adam walked to Tim’s coffin to say his own farewell to his friend. It was painful to watch—Rachel wiped her eyes with her fingers, and Ann offered her a tissue.

  “You have a son to be very proud of.”

  “I am.”

  Adam walked back, and Rachel could see in his entire body the sadness that gripped him. He was no longer trying to bravely hold back the tears; he wiped his eyes. “Mom, can I come back and see Tim tomorrow? He’s going to be so lonely here.”

  The question broke Rachel’s heart and everyone else’s who heard it. Ann hugged her son. “I’ll bring you.”

  Adam wrapped his arms around her. “I left Tim my good comic book in his memorial box. I still owed him for the baseball card he gave me after the flood.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  Stephen knelt beside them and rubbed Adam’s back. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go home.” He picked up the boy.

  Rachel struggled to stop her tears. Cole hugged her. “I know, honey. I know.”

  Cole stopped Rachel from returning to the chapel after the cars carrying Sandy and her family pulled out of the parking lot. “Stop for a moment. Catch your breath.”

  She leaned against him. “I’m okay.”

  Cole wrapped his arms around her and just held her.

  “Jennifer has planned her funeral.”


  He rubbed her back. “She told me.” It had been a heartbreaking phone call as he called to hear how Jennifer was doing and she passed on the news in her quiet, calm way.

  “I like the music Sandy chose. It wasn’t trying to pick you up or lead you somewhere. It was just peaceful and let you remember the music.”

  Cole blinked away tears. “Anything you need to tell Jennifer you haven’t already told her?”

  “Good-bye has been said many times and in many ways. But the day that comes when Jennifer isn’t a phone call away… It’s going to hurt so bad.”

  “I know, Rae.”

  He loved this woman. And if he could take away the pain of the moment, he would do so in an instant. How did you tell someone you loved good-bye? It just wasn’t something you were ever prepared to do. Over twenty years of history would be broken if Rachel lost Jennifer.

  “I’ve got to shift focus and get ready for Mark’s funeral. I’m working the hotline for the afternoon.”

  He loved her enough to release her to go do that job. “God will give you the strength you’ll need,” he whispered. Rachel had been given the gift of knowing what and how to reach out to touch a heart. She had given Adam and Marissa the gift that she’d be just a page away as long as they needed help. Rae had handed her cards to numerous students.

  She had to go. “Come over tonight. Let me fix dinner, and we’ll sit outside and watch the stars.”

  “I love you, Cole.”

  He’d been hoping to hear those words for so long. They were the most precious gift she could give him, and today, when her heart was full with so many emotions, he knew she trusted him with her heart. Cole hugged her tight. “I love you too.” He wasn’t sure when his emotions had fully turned to that reality, but there was no distance anymore between his dreams for his future and his feelings for her. She was the one person he had been praying to find. He loved her smile, and the way she gave without reservation, the way she loved him enough to trust him with everything going on. He brushed back her hair and kissed her. He wasn’t going to let her down.

  Cole fixed Rachel dinner around seven Sunday night, keeping it to basic spaghetti, salad, and hot bread. He ate quietly and watched hert nibble at a salad she was too tired to eat.