Limited Light

by Carla Rossi

  He rested his arm across the back of her chair. I agree. But why do you think so?

  Well, look at him. He’s twenty years old if he’s a day, and she can’t be more than sixteen. Plus he’s had a lot of experience.

  Why would you say that?

  Oh, please. It’s obvious. When he went to kiss her, he turned his hat around backwards.

  He what?

  She pointed to her head. He turned his hat around backwards. Have you ever tried to kiss a girl with a baseball hat on? You end up poking her in the eye with the bill. He’s kissed a lot of girls and nuzzled a lot of necks.

  Jim couldn’t help it. He had to laugh.

  This isn’t funny, Pastor James. Boys her age haven’t refined their technique. There are a lot of scratched corneas before they ever get it right.

  He laughed harder. I know it’s not funny. It’s the way you said it that was the funny part. He couldn’t possibly tell her the spark of concern and indignation coming from her feisty inner warrior warmed his heart and lightened his spirit .

  What else do you see?

  Martha studied Lily for a moment. I see a young girl who’s got a lot on her mind. She’s too mature for boys her own age. She knows this guy isn’t good for her, but he’s the only one who’s paid what she considers grown-up attention to her. He takes her seriously, even though he’s not interested in her mind or her hopes and dreams. This is temporary for him. He’s only in it ‘til he sees what he can get out of it.

  Jim took a long look at the woman he hoped God had sent especially for him. And you see all that from just looking at her.

  Yes.

  How?

  I have no idea. At my church in Houston, I had the young women’s Sunday School class. I learned a lot there. I enjoy working with the youth.

  Jim shook his head in furious disagreement. Not me. I know they’re basically harmless, but I get nervous and tongue-tied around teenagers. I don’t know why, but they intimidate me.

  Really? You? But you’re such a good speaker and a great people person.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love them and I try to help Danny and Kim. But I’m better off in a room full of little ones or the elderly. Leave me alone with rowdy teenagers and I don’t know where to start.

  That’s easy. You start with honest conversation, mutual respect, and lots of physical activity.

  A squeal from the sound system pierced the air. Lily’s mystery guy tossed his pack of cigarettes her way so he could fasten his guitar strap .

  Oh no, Martha sighed .

  What? The cigarettes? I don’t think Lily’s started smoking.

  She sighed again. That’s the least of it.

  I don’t follow.

  Mystery Guy pulled up a stool and adjusted the mic’. He winked at Lily, who sat completely enthralled as he started to play.

  See that? She’s absolutely smitten. It’s a universal feminine weakness, I’m afraid. We all fall in love with the boys in the band.

  In that case, I need to pull my guitar out from under the bed and start practicing.

  Martha immediately dropped her gaze to the table and tried to hide a shy smile.

  What should I do about Lily? The question was meant to cover the awkward moment he’d created with his lame attempt at humor .

  There’s nothing you can do right now. Anything you say would put her on the defensive, since you’re her pastor and a guy. She’ll feel like you’re tattling to her parents about seeing her here with cigarettes and Mystery Guy.

  She doesn’t have parents.

  Martha’s sudden look of compassion touched him. She didn’t even know Lily, and it was clear she was completely vested in her situation. What do you mean?

  Her parents were killed in a boating accident two years ago. Some drunken idiot was speeding and crashed into them. They didn’t see it coming, didn’t know what hit them.

  Was Lily on the boat?

  No. Worse. She was sitting on the dock with her friends and saw the whole thing.

  Poor kid.

  Her grandfather, Preston Woodruff, is raising her.

  She smacked her forehead. Of course. I remember this story. Preston’s a patriarch in this town and in the church. I knew about his son, but I didn’t put the two things together.

  Yeah, he’s a tough old bird, but she has him wrapped around her little finger. He has no idea what to do with a teenage girl. That’s what worries me. He probably doesn’t know she’s out with this older guy. She probably told him she’s out with friends.

  Well, you definitely need to tell Kimmie and Danny right away. She’ll be more open with them than with you.

  I will. And I’ll keep an eye on her. That’s one good thing about a small town. Not much gets by me. People like Camille Peterson are always happy to give me the latest gossip.

  She paled. I’d better go.

  I thought you wanted to stay.

  I changed my mind, I need to go. I have to get on the road early tomorrow.

  You’re leaving tomorrow?

  Yes. I have interviews in Dallas .

  He walked her to her car in silence. The strains of guitar music floated through the open door and pulsed in the cool spring air around them. He touched her elbow to steer her around some broken glass. She all but jerked away. The hope inside his heart diminished. Something had just gone terribly wrong, and he had no idea what it was .

  She tossed her belongings in the front seat and fought to pull her sweater on .

  Hang on a minute. He took it from her. The sleeves are bunched up and turned inside out.

  He worked the soft cashmere through his hands, inhaling the light floral scent that clung to it .

  She wouldn’t even meet his gaze. The warm current between them had cooled. He was desperate to get it back. Have I said something to upset you, Martha? Because one minute you were havin’ a good time and the next you— The moment of discovery had been too slow to arrive. How dense could he be? Ooohhh...I see. You think I’ve been listening to gossip about you because of what I said.

  She tried to grab the sweater. It doesn’t matter.

  He jerked it out of her reach. Yes, it does. Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not interested in gossip. I just meant that if I needed to know something significant, I could probably get the information.

  I understand. She held out a trembling hand. May I have my sweater? The wind is kicking up.

  He held it up for her. Long slender arms snaked their way into the sleeves.

  I was hoping you’d be here a little longer. I want to spend some more time with you.

  I told you I would help you with the building, and I will. She pulled a card from her pocket. My e-mail is on here. I know you’ll have questions after you go through all the stuff we talked about tonight. Contact me anytime.

  She turned to get in her car .

  Wait. You can’t leave yet.

  She stopped and slowly turned. What is it you want from me, Pastor James?

  Flashes of lightning from an approaching storm lit up the sky. The low rumble of thunder that followed was nothing compared to what was happening in his chest. First of all, I want you to call me Jim. He stepped in closer. It was clear she wanted to back away, but she was trapped between him and the car. Secondly, I want you to understand it doesn’t matter to me what happened in Houston. If I wanted to know, I would ask you, but frankly, I’m so caught up in how good it feels just to be with you, that I don’t care if you ever tell me. I know you’re a good person, and I know your heart is with the Lord. Nothing could make me think less of you.

  Even in the dim light, he saw sheer panic cross her face. You don’t understand. It’s worse than you think.

  He threw his hands in the air. It couldn’t be because I’m not thinking anything. I’m an uncomplicated guy, Martha. If I say it doesn’t matter, I mean it.

  He pulled her into his arms and held her tight against him as a branch of electric silver split the sky. She tensed, but he didn’t let go. Eventually
she relaxed and her small hands crept around him .

  He pressed his fingers into her back and drew her even closer. I need to ask you something, he whispered into her hair .

  Her voice was small and muffled. Yes?

  Am I holding a financial advisor, a friend, or a woman?

  She smiled against his chest. You’re holding me.

  ****

  Marti made a sharp left off of downtown Madison’s main drag and hit the gas. With any luck at all, she’d beat the storm to Grandma Rose’s .

  She smacked her open palm on the steering wheel. Oh, Ruby. I can’t believe I let my guard down. Will I ever learn?

  The first of the huge drops splattered her windows. She raced to outrun the rain and the ball of confusion in her stomach .

  At the very second she’d become comfortable in Pastor James’s arms, cold hard reality smacked her upside the head, and she knew she had to get away. And get away she did, ripping herself from his embrace with a curt well, gotta go, see ya’, before she sped away. Her shoulders sagged with regret as she checked the rearview mirror. There was a distinct possibility Ruby rolled over his foot in the process. Probably not, she reasoned, but there was that shadowy figure hopping around in the intermittent glow of the streetlamp. Maybe he called the police. She was probably about to be arrested for assault with deadly stupidity, or attempted maiming of the nicest man in the world because she was a big chicken and a complete nincompoop. Just another gold star moment in my recent chain of excessively imbecilic, character-defining moments .

  She headed up the bumpy drive. I’m just gonna have to call him, Ruby. As soon as I get in the house, I’m gonna call him and make sure I didn’t break his foot and tell him I’m sorry for overreacting. Yeah. That’s what I’m gonna do.

  Marti darted into the house and shook like a wet terrier in the doorway. As she started up the stairs, she noticed light coming from under Grandma Rose’s door. Might as well face the music. If she told her all about it tonight, she wouldn’t have to be delayed by telling the whole distasteful story in the morning. She headed back down the stairs and lightly tapped on her door. No answer. She pushed it open .

  Grandma Rose sat on the side of the bed, a blank expression on her face. Marti froze. Something wasn’t right. She looked okay, but something about the absence of her huge trademark smile terrified her. Bad news, perhaps? Her parents?

  What is it, Grandma Rose? Has something happened?

  The older woman tried to move. She appeared to motion toward the bathroom .

  Marti rushed to her side. Are you half asleep or something? Do you have to go to the bathroom? What ?

  Grandma Rose’s vacant gaze met hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but only two or three unconnected words came out .

  A bolt of terror ripped through Marti’s body as she reached for the phone. Her own voice was loud and unfamiliar. C’mon, Granny, you’ve gotta work with me here. What’s the matter?

  While Marti fought with the cord on the older princess-style phone, her grandmother tried to stand up. Limp and unsteady, they both tumbled to the ground when Marti dropped the phone and tried to catch her .

  Marti scrambled for the handset. Oh, dear Lord, help . It’s okay, Grandma, she cried. I’m calling nine-one-one!

  Limited Light

  Chapter Five

  Jim abandoned the weight bench and limped from the garage to the kitchen. Who knew a crushed little toe could hurt so badly? Kind of like a paper cut on your index finger or a splinter in your heel. You never knew how debilitating that could be until it reduced you to tears. The bright side, as he’d explained it to Kim and Danny, was that he was run over by a really hot small car and not Danny’s old Buick. Little comfort that was, when he couldn’t even manage an upper body workout because his whole foot screamed in pain .

  One hot shower later, he hit the bed with a bottle of aspirin and as many little baggies of ice as he had, well, little baggies and ice to put in them. He elevated his foot and tried to sleep. It wasn’t going well. Each pulse of the blood through his veins matched the throbbing in his foot. If anything had ever hurt him worse, he couldn’t remember what it was .

  The shrill ring of the cell phone jarred him from a healing prayer for his little toe. He was used to late night desperate calls--it was part of his job. This time, however, he was convinced it was Danny calling to make fun of him. Again .

  Pastor James, I need you to come to the hospital.

  The tear-filled voice was almost unrecognizable, but in his heart he knew who it was. What is it, Martha? Are you okay? He had to hold his own fear in check. This was not the best time to explore how her well being had become foremost in his mind .

  I’m fine, she choked out between sobs. It’s Grandma Rose.

  I’ll be right there.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed .

  Aw, man ...he was gonna have to put on shoes .

  ****

  Jim flipped open his phone and called the emergency room from three miles out. The redheaded ER nurse he’d come to appreciate on nights such as these answered the phone. Hey, Becky, how’s it going?

  It’s good, Pastor. How’s it going yourself?

  I’ll be there in a minute and I need to know where to find Rose Randolph.

  Let me see if they’ve moved her from the ER yet.

  Jim shifted his foot around on the gas pedal in an attempt to adjust the pressure on his toe. Hey, while you’re looking that up, tell me something.

  Anything.

  What do you do about a broken toe?

  Not much you can do. You could see a doctor who would x-ray it just to say ‘yeah, it’s broken.’ They won’t put a cast on it or even stabilize it. Toes just have to heal.

  I was afraid of that. What if you think there’s more damage, like to the toe next to it or the bones in the foot?

  Depends on how the injury happened.

  Jim made a mental picture. He was pretty sure the edge of Martha’s left back tire skimmed across the edge of his shoe, thereby catching and crushing just his little toe. Is there anything I can do?

  Ice it the first twenty-four hours and take an over-the-counter pain reliever. Try to wear a big sock or stuff cotton around it to cushion it in your shoe. Otherwise, it just hurts for a while. Ah. Here is it. Mrs. Randolph is still in the ER. Exam room four.

  Thanks, Becky.

  He parked in his regular clergy parking space and exchanged a quick hello with the security guard. The swoosh of the automatic door and the ensuing rush of frigid air from inside was a familiar welcome .

  Becky leaned across the desk and batted her eyes. That was fast.

  He smiled and hurried past her .

  Oh, Pastor, she called after him. I’ll check on you in a little bit. Can I bring you a cup of coffee?

  He glanced back at her. There was a time he thought he might be able to get excited about Becky--she sure was excited about him.

  Martha skipped across his mind in her bare feet. Thanks, but no.

  He headed down the corridor, a sinking feeling in his heart. It was absolutely imperative that Rose Randolph be okay. It was a selfish request. Of all the moms and grandmas who adopted him when he came to town, it was Rose with whom he’d made a real connection. She was the only one he really trusted. The only one who could listen to him complain about Preston Woodruff, and the other irritations of his job, and not judge him for being human. He staggered past empty wheelchairs and gurneys, silently praying it was nothing serious .

  The stark white curtain covering exam room four billowed as he approached. Metal rings collided along the rod as Martha stumbled out into the hall, wrestling with the fabric as she went.

  Martha . Did he say that out loud? He wasn’t sure. With his throat constricted and his lungs caving in, it was hard to tell .

  She met his gaze and burst into tears. Thank God! She launched herself into his arms with such force he had to lean against the wall for balance .

  Shhh...I’m her
e, it’s okay. But he had no idea if it was or it wasn’t. Tell me what happened.

  She hung in his arms. He propped her up against him and led her to a couch along the wall. The worn green vinyl squeaked as it gave way beneath them .

  Talk to me, honey. He held her face in his hands and used his thumbs to smooth the tears away from her red, splotchy cheeks. Where’s your grandma?

  She’s having a CT Scan. They’re pretty sure she had a stroke, but they don’t know what kind or how serious yet.

  But she’s stable right now?

  Yes, she sniffed. She’s stable. She scooted in tighter against his body and tucked her head securely under his chin .

  I need to find her and let her know I’m here and pray with her. He rubbed his jaw against her silky hair. But first I want you to tell me what happened.

  She wasn’t herself when I got home. She was confused and couldn’t speak clearly. It’s like her body wouldn’t do what she wanted it to. I called nine-one-one. On the way to the hospital they called it in as a probable stroke and asked for the stroke team to be ready.

  It sounds like they got there pretty fast, and that she’s in good hands.

  Martha snorted. No thanks to me. I knew she had a headache. I should have never left her. She was probably trying to have that stroke all day. I should have paid more attention.

  Jim took a deep breath. Her guilt-ridden reaction was typical. Especially so for Martha, who already deemed herself beyond redemption. How could he convince her she had no control over her grandmother’s neurological malfunctions? None of this is your fault. Don’t waste energy blaming yourself. Put all your efforts into faith and prayer for your grandmother’s fast recovery.

  I am, she whispered .

  She reached for a tissue from the box on the end table. He stopped her and pulled a small package from his pocket. Here, he said and cracked the slit in the top of the plastic. These are softer than the sandpaper that passes for a tissue here.

  You think of everything.

  He smiled as his lips grazed her forehead. This isn’t my first rodeo.

  She pushed herself away to look up at him. Thank you for coming, she said softly .