With You Here

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With You Here Page 10

by Sarah Monzon


  “Longing.” She whispered the word. A God-given yearning between man and woman and between humankind and God.

  Not lust.

  Not sin.

  “Amber?” Seth stepped toward her. “You okay? You look, I don’t know, lost in thought maybe?”

  “Hmmm?” She raised her head to look at him, startled again by the pull in her chest. This feeling may be natural, but that didn’t necessitate that it was a good idea to pursue at the moment. “Oh, just working something out in my head.”

  “Whether you think I’m a barbarian or not?”

  “What?” The last tether to her internal thoughts snapped, and Seth came into complete focus. She laughed. “I don’t think you’re a barbarian. Quite the opposite really.”

  He grinned. “Good.” Glancing down at his watch, he hurried to her side and moved her forward with a hand to her arm. “Now that’s worked out, we need to be going or we’ll be late.”

  Her skin tingled where his palm made contact. Her feet worked on autopilot because all her focus zeroed in on those few inches. “W-where are we going?”

  He glanced down at her, one corner of his lips tilting. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about not having many experiences. We’re going to change that.”

  A trickle of dread serpentined through her middle. “How?”

  Reaching the van, he opened the door for her. “Don’t look so scared. I’m not going to take you to a den of debauchery or anything.”

  Her breath wheezed out. “Of course not.”

  He buckled his seatbelt and started the engine. “The way I see it, you don’t actually have to do all the things you think the people you’ll be ministering to at the hospital will have done. Every experience gets imprinted on the mind based on the emotion the person feels at the time, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “So, you only need to excavate your own experiences to be able to relate to the emotion the person feels.”

  “Oooookay.”

  He glanced her way. “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “Sorry.” She held out her hands, palms up. “But how would you react if you’d just lost your wife of forty plus years and I came along and tried to console you by saying I knew how you felt because I’d once lost a pet dog that I had loved? I don’t think you’d appreciate me comparing your beloved wife with a Chihuahua.”

  He steered a half circle of a roundabout. “I see your point.” Putting on his blinker, he made a left turn. “But at least try it, since we’re already here.”

  Amber looked out the window. All she saw was an empty parking lot. “Where is here?”

  “A stopping point. We’re just switching vehicles.”

  “Because?”

  “Because you can’t come to Germany and not drive a super-fast car on the Autobahn.” His eyes twinkled with anticipation.

  Her fingers twitched. “What kind of car?”

  “A friend of mine at Porsche headquarters is letting us borrow a 911 GT3 RS. It goes from zero to sixty in a tenth of a second. Not the fastest start Porsche has, but its top track speed is two hundred and eleven miles per hour, which blows the competition away.”

  That was faster than the NASCAR experience she’d done in Daytona with Michael on her eighteenth birthday. Her face could barely contain her grin. “Let’s go.”

  Seth laughed behind her as she marched toward the building on the other side of the lot. She couldn’t wait to wrap her hands around the leather steering wheel. Feel the horsepower rumble under her.

  “I thought you’d be scared and I’d have to talk you into it.”

  She flicked him a quick glance. “I’m not your average girl, Seth.”

  He gave her an appreciative once over. “I never thought you were. Not even for a moment.”

  Her toes curled, and she quickened her stride. After meeting Seth’s friend and watching Seth sign a few papers, keys were exchanged. A cherry-red little beauty of a powerhouse sat gleaming in a slot close by. She couldn’t wait to rev that engine.

  “Keys.” She extended her hand.

  His gaze went back and forth between her and the car. “I thought I’d drive.”

  She bopped his hand, causing the keys to fly out of his palm, and snatched them out of the air. “You thought wrong.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, just slipped across the butter-soft black leather seat and ran her hand along the gear shift.

  “Are you sure you can handle her?” he asked, his mouth twisted to the side as he lowered into the passenger seat.

  Her whole body hummed as she turned over the engine. It purred. “You need to learn to trust your teammate, Marshall.”

  “So, this is your version of tough love?”

  She put the car into gear and slammed the gas pedal to the floor. Tires squealed and the smell of burned rubber singed her nostril. The force of instant speed pushed her back into the seat. “Are you kidding?” she yelled over the roar of the engine, slowing now that they’d reached the end of the empty lot. She stopped the car and grinned over at his stunned face. “I’m just a big softy.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ring. Ring.

  Seth started awake, the blankets tangling around his legs as he thrashed upward.

  Ring. Ring.

  He rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye socket. Who would be calling him at—he glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand—chuffing three o’clock in the morning? He swiped his cell from beside the lamp and glared at the screen.

  Mum? What did she want in the middle of the night? “Everything all right, Mum?”

  “No, everything is not all right. Your sister got herself arrested.”

  He sat up straight, bumping the back of his head on the headboard. “For what?”

  “Attempted shoplifting.”

  He bit off a curse on the tip of his tongue. “Why would she need to steal? It’s not like I haven’t dumped enough money in her bank account for her to buy a poxy unicorn if she wanted one.”

  “I haven’t heard you use that sort of language in weeks.” His mother’s tone was sharp, but then she sighed heavily on the other end. “I don’t know why. And frankly, I can’t deal with her and her drama any longer. That’s why I’m shipping her to you.”

  Seth didn’t have time to feel remorse about the slip of his tongue. Not when more epithets were forming in his mouth. His whole—he would not use any of those words again—family had lost their minds. “What?” The word echoed around the room before punching him in the gut.

  “You’ve always been able to get through to her better than I could.”

  Maybe in the past. “Mum, she needs—”

  “She’s booked to arrive tomorrow at five thirty-five. And Seth, don’t send her back until her head is screwed on right again.”

  A soft click sounded in his ear. No “I love you” or “I’m proud of you.” She’d never been verbal with her affection. More demonstrative. Working long hours to provide for him and Kayla. She didn’t need to do that now, not when his contract had so many zeros attached to it. In some ways, she didn’t know what to do with herself. Or how to show her kids that she cared.

  Apparently by shipping one off to the other.

  What was he going to do? His schedule was full at the center and didn’t leave much room to deal with a rebellious tirade from someone who wanted for nothing.

  He could resign. Ben and Mila would understand. Family came first. Besides, Amber was wholly capable of handling things.

  He scrubbed his hands down his face. Just the thought of quitting left a sour feeling in his stomach. He didn’t want to quit. It had been good to see some of his kids from last year. Yosef and Zaid had grown at least two inches. They were almost fluent in German now and were wearing a new-found confidence that looked good on them. First day back on the field and both boys had stepped into an early leadership role. If he left, who would be there to coach them on? Offer the support they’d need as they transitioned from the setting of
childhood and stepped fully into the dawning of becoming a man?

  And what about the new kids like Orhan and Yara? The frightful freshness of it all still caused their eyes to stare at the ground, their little bodies quaking at any loud sounds. Who would be there to coax them out of the haunting shadows of their past? To help them see beyond the wreckage of their young lives and gaze into their bright futures?

  Amber could. He had every faith in her. But he wanted to be there. Have a hand in their lives. For them to have a hand in his. Was that wrong? Selfish? His sister needed him. Shouldn’t he be willing to drop everything for her?

  He opened the contact list on his phone and tapped Justin’s name. If anyone had good advice, he did. The phone rang four times before Justin’s gravelly tenor came over the line.

  “Did someone die?”

  “What? No. Why would you think that?”

  “Because it’s the middle of the night and that’s the only reason why anyone should be calling me at this hour.”

  Shoot. He’d forgotten about the time. “Sorry. Although in my defense, I do recall you saying I could ring you any time, day or night.”

  Shuffling noises caused static in Seth’s ear.

  “Are you somewhere you know you shouldn’t be? A pub? Club? A woman’s house?”

  Seth let out a breath of air. “No.”

  “Then I repeat, why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

  “I need your advice.”

  “Have you prayed about whatever it is?”

  “Ahhh…” That probably would have been a good idea.

  “Look, Seth, I’m here for you if you ever really need me, but I can’t be the first person you come to. There’s Someone else a whole lot wiser, stronger, and omnipresent that you need to be turning to and talking to first.”

  Seth knew that. He did! So why hadn’t that been his first reaction? He thought conversion would be like some miracle life change. He was a sinner one minute and then, poof, with a prayer, he automatically knew what the right thing was and did it. But here he was, still struggling. Still making mistakes.

  “There’s no abracadabra in Christianity, Seth.”

  A nervous chuckle escaped his mouth. “It freaks me out when you read my mind like that.”

  “The theological word is sanctification, although the term isn’t as important as the change occurring in you. And there is a change. I can see it. Everyone can. But it’s a daily process of surrender and calling on God. Read the works of Paul in the New Testament. Everyone struggles. You aren’t alone.”

  “Thanks, Justin.”

  “I love you, man. But seriously, don’t wake me from a dead sleep unless you’re bleeding out.”

  Seth turned off his phone and placed it on the nightstand. He slid out of bed and let his knees hit the carpeted floor below. He knew he could pray anywhere, that it wasn’t the posture but the heart that mattered. But he was about to storm the heavenly gates on his sister’s behalf, and kneeling in prayer was the most spiritual battle position he knew.

  #

  He yawned as he set down the net of balls and fished one out. It had been a long night. After his mum’s call, he’d prayed for Kayla for what seemed like hours, often repeating the same words. That she’d find Jesus. That he could somehow get through to her.

  Hopefully God didn’t mind the repetition. Somehow he thought not. He’d crawled back under the sheets around five in the morning and had dozed on and off for another hour after that, the little snippets of sleep he’d snatched robbed by the memory of Amber behind the wheel of the Porsche, grinning ear to ear and taking the corners of the Autobahn at a speed that had him white-knuckling the grip on the car door. After that experience, he had no doubt she’d be able to relate to anyone who had a thrill-seeking addiction. Or any addiction that gave the rush of a high. Vibrancy had radiated off her, her skin glowing with life and vitality and her eyes gleaming. The whole effect had mesmerized him.

  The football bounced high in the air, and Seth eyed its descent, returning his concentration to the action at hand, waiting and watching. At the last second, he positioned his body, his shoulders straight, back of his neck exposed. The ball landed in the cradle he’d made between neck and shoulder. He bent his knees to absorb the force and then rolled his wrists with a wink.

  Twenty rapturous faces turned up at him, eyes wide and shining. They clapped, urging him on to do more tricks.

  He let the ball roll down his back then kicked it up with his heel. It soared over his head in a perfect arc and he caught it in another cradle made with the top of his foot and his shin. He kicked it up and juggled the ball for a while, not letting it touch the ground by bumping it back up into the air with either his knees, his head, or his feet.

  He caught Amber watching, Yara on her lap. Amber’s lips twitched like she was fighting off a grin.

  One he very much wanted to see.

  Kicking the ball up higher than before, he squatted, then pushed off with the balls of his feet in a backflip, scissoring his legs and giving the ball a perfect bicycle kick in the air. He landed on his feet and rotated at the waist. The ball floated perfectly through the air and landed in the back of the goal net.

  The kids leaped to their feet, shouting all at once, running to him. Before he knew it he had hands all over him, voices raised to be heard above the others. He tussled a few heads before raising his gaze to Amber. She was rising from the ground, Yara on her hip. Her smile hit him square in the chest, knocking the breath out of his lungs.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a show-off?” She laughed.

  He answered with a grin. “All the time.”

  A shadow raced across the ground. A second later the earth shook and the air vibrated. A loud rumble pierced through the revelry of just a moment before. Like prairie dogs spotting a ravenous predator, the children threw themselves on the ground, covering the backs of their heads with their hands. A few screamed, and then muffled sobs filled the silence left by the air stream of jet engines.

  The scene was like watching a set of dominoes fall from a slamming door. Kids huddled on the ground, protecting themselves from an unseen attack. Seth’s heart twisted. It wasn’t right. He remembered watching the Royal Air Force at air shows as a kid. Yes, it had been loud, but the noise hadn’t sent his heart into a panic. Instead, he’d stared up at the sky in wide-eyed awe along with the rest of the kids.

  He glanced around him and then bent and picked up the closest child, a girl recently arrived from Syria. Sonia was ten and too big to be carried, but he set her on his hip as she buried her face in his neck. Moisture soaked into his skin, and he realized her tears had been transferred to him. If only he could take their fear and painful memories as easily.

  His fingers grazed over heads, and then he found a spot on the grass and lowered himself to sit cross-legged, Sonia nestling in his lap. Slowly faces rose from the ground, fear and worry creasing brows, dirt streaked across cheeks. He opened his arms and beckoned them to him. Yesterday he may have been a spokesperson for tough love, but Amber had been right. These kids needed to know that the center was a safe place. That he was safe.

  Amber sat down beside him, Yara clinging to her neck like a baby koala. Orhan had pasted himself to her side and leaned into her. She wrapped her arm around his thin shoulder. A tear slid down her cheek.

  “What these kids must have gone through to react…” She shook her head.

  “Es tut mir Leid. I’m sorry. ‘Ana asif.” He apologized in German, English, and Arabic. He knew the Air Force sometimes flew drills in the area. He should have warned the kids. Prepared them for the sights and sounds that brought back horrifying memories.

  “Our home was destroyed by a missile.” Sonia’s voice was muffled, her breath hot on Seth’s neck. “I will never forget the sharp whistle before a loud explosion. We ran as fast as we could, my family. My grandmother was old. She could not move quickly. My aunts, they go back to help her.” Her arms constricted and Se
th patted her on the back. “I turned back to look. All that was left was rubble. A stack of bricks and stone and metal pointing to the sky while dust rose in the air. I never see my jida or aunties again.”

  He pressed her head to his chest and made shushing sounds. Not to quiet her, but as a small measure of comfort. He couldn’t say everything would be all right. For Sonia and her family, it sounded like nothing would be right again.

  Jesus, help her. Bring comfort…somehow.

  “For us, it was the same, but also different. Umi took Yara and me to the big market on the other side of town that day.” Orhan’s gaze grew distant, as if he were still with them in body but his mind had travelled through space and time, back to his homeland on a day that had been seared into his soul. “I had been naughty and hid from her behind the stall selling falafel. I thought this great fun, but Umi was angry when she finally found me. She said I had made us late. That we were supposed to be home thirty minutes ago.” Amber’s arm tightened around the boy. She whispered something to him, but he didn’t seem to hear her. His gaze was vacant as he stared out at nothing.

  “When we return, it was like an angel of death had visited our entire neighborhood. All was still. Too quiet. Where was everyone? I thought to myself. Then I saw. Bodies lying here and there. Eyes open, no one blinking. They were dead. All of them. Baba. A little blood here.” He touched the corner of his mouth and shuddered.

  Chemical warfare of some kind. Didn’t matter that such weapons had been limited since 1925 after the rampant use in World War I. Nor that they had been banned for over a decade. Bashar al-Assad’s government had used a number of different chemicals including sarin, weaponized chlorine, and blister agents like sulfuric mustard. Thousands of innocent civilians had been brutally murdered—he ran his hand over Sonia’s hair—including the family members of these innocent children.

 

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