The Reason

by William Sirls

  “We can both do better,” Brooke said. “Mr. Mysterious didn’t tell you this stuff, did he?”

  “No.”

  “What’s his name, by the way? He kind of looks like a ‘Ryan’ or a ‘Blake.’”

  “Blake?” Carla said, a smile creasing her lips that Brooke didn’t expect. “You watch too much TV, you dope. I actually never got his name. He left about ten minutes after you did.”

  “All that in ten minutes?”

  “It wasn’t even ten minutes. I’m telling you that he came over, took my wrist, said a few things, put the apple down, and left.”

  “And he knew everything about you?”

  “No, but it felt like it. He did know my name though.”

  “He heard us talking.”

  “I don’t think so,” Carla said. “Doesn’t matter.”

  It does matter, Brooke thought. She could see something in Carla’s eyes that didn’t show up too often. It looked like hope, almost like she was on the verge of figuring out how to finally turn things around. If it was only ten minutes with Mr. Mysterious that had Carla wanting to do better, that had her reflecting on her life, Brooke didn’t care what his name was. She was thankful and liked him.

  “Let’s do better together,” Brooke said.

  “Let’s do it,” Carla said. “I’m gonna quit drinking, not just cut back. And all the people that treat me like garbage . . . I’m not going to put up with it anymore.”

  “Forgive,” Brooke said. “Didn’t that guy tell you that? Maybe the people who treat you like garbage are the ones you need to forgive.”

  “It’s not them,” Carla said, kicking her toe at the sand. “I know he was talking about my dad.”

  Brooke closed her eyes. That guy at The Pilot Inn didn’t know Carla from Adam, but Carla’s father really was the one she needed to forgive. Part of being a parent is making mistakes, she thought. But when you leave half your head splattered on a wall for your eleven-year-old daughter to find, it’s kind of tough to say sorry.

  Carla said faintly, “The last thing my dad said to me was that he loved me.” She paused, then shook her head, her mouth clamping shut. “You just don’t do what he did to someone you love.”

  “Pray about it,” Brooke said. “Ask God to help you forgive him.”

  Carla didn’t say anything. She just pointed dolefully down the shoreline.

  Charlie and Alex were throwing rocks into the lake. Though they were over fifty yards away, Brooke could still hear Alex laughing and making explosion noises as the rocks he threw hit the water.

  As the two women walked quietly back down the shore, the sun moved behind the clouds, reminding Brooke that it was, indeed, still October. She glanced over at Carla and noticed a tear slowly weaving down the side of her friend’s face. She took Carla by the sleeve of her sweatshirt and they stopped. “You’re going to be okay, Carla.”

  “You think so?” Carla sniffed.

  “I do,” Brooke said, her voice holding the same promise and spark of hope that Carla’s eyes did. For the first time in a long time, she felt good about Carla. Her declaration was a start. They hugged and started walking again.

  Brooke heard Alex laughing. She looked up from the sand, and Charlie was holding him by one arm and one leg, twirling him around in circles from a height most kids would never experience. She smiled. We’re all going to be all right.

  Carla suddenly stopped and pointed down at the sand, only a few feet away from the Nike they had discovered earlier. “When did that get there?”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t here earlier, was it?” Brooke asked.

  “No, it wasn’t,” Carla said. “It’s a little creepy, isn’t it?”

  “A little? I’d call it a lot creepy.”

  A baby doll had washed up on the shore, and for some strange reason, Brooke couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Most of its red hair had fallen out, and the lake water had stained dark circles around both of the doll’s eyes. One eye had been pasted shut, and the other was half open, staring right at her.

  “Hey,” Carla said. She took Brooke’s arm. “It’s my turn to ask. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” Brooke answered as they started walking again. “I think so.”

  They took less than a dozen steps when Brooke stopped. She turned back around and looked at the doll. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the little girl who’d lost it. And she wondered how long the little girl cried, knowing she would probably never see her baby again.

  SEVEN

  Short-Term Delay

  Long-Term Relief

  Thank you for bearing with us as we grow.

  Macey slowed down and glanced up at the sign. For a fleeting moment she found herself actually agreeing with Zach and his never-ending complaints.

  The construction was a pain in the butt.

  She looked past the sign into the fenced-in area that once served as the employees’ parking lot and wondered if her old spot was even still in there. Maybe it was behind the cement truck, the tons of piled brick, the mounds of shredded plastic and paper, or one of the two mobile homes that now served as central command posts for the various superintendents. Any way she diced it, she had appreciated that parking space when she had it, and wished she had it back every day she had to park two football fields away.

  She looked at her watch. The appointment with the construction worker was at three in her office, which was seventeen minutes ago. She shook her head and looked at herself in the rearview mirror.

  “Macey Marie Lewis,” she said, “you need some time off.” Even the thought of a brisk walk made her tired.

  She kept giving herself a no-nonsense, you-need-a-vacation look while finding a place to park in the back corner of the temporary lot. She opened the car door and called Kaitlyn. Her cell phone was tucked between her cheek and her shoulder as she carefully repositioned a clear plastic bag over the driver’s seat of her black Jeep Laredo.

  “Hang on a second, Kaitlyn. I’m adjusting the plastic bag on my seat.”

  “Uh-oh.” The nurse laughed. “The dreaded wet-butt?”

  “Not today, thanks to my elegant slipcover. Did you tell him I was running late?”

  “Yes,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Can you tell him I’m in the parking lot and will be up there in five minutes?”

  “I can’t,” Kaitlyn said. “He said he had to go and would try and stop by again.”

  “Okay,” Macey said, walking past a group of huddled smokers and making her way through the revolving front doors of the hospital toward the elevators. “See you in a minute.”

  Macey closed her phone and exchanged grins with a glowing, red-eyed spider that hung loosely above her from a neatly shaped, white yarn web. The walls leading to the elevators were covered with confetti pumpkins, paper black cats, and a matching pair of plastic, one-toothed witches. The Halloween decor was oddly accented by the scent of roses funneling from the first-floor gift shop.

  At the end of the hall, volunteer decorators from the Carlson Rotary had hung an ever-growing flock of tissue ghosts that appeared to swarm above the elevator doors.

  She looked up and noticed the lit number 5 above each elevator door. She turned to a bald, overweight Rotary volunteer at his station. “Are the elevators stuck?”

  “I think so,” the man said, pulling out a pair of silver-rimmed glasses and putting them on. He squinted, his blue eyes looking up. “They’ve been like that for around fifteen minutes.”

  “Maintenance must have them all stopped there,” Macey said. “It’s a little strange they would do that right after visiting hours begin.”

  The man looked back at all the elevators, then wrapped a rubber band around a twirled piece of tissue, forming a ghost’s head. He dropped it on the counter and shrugged. “Who knows what they’re thinking.”

  “No biggie,” she said. “I’ll take the stairs like everybody else. I need the exercise.” She flipped her cell phone open to check the time and then h
eaded toward the door that led to the stairwell. Behind her, all four elevators simultaneously chimed.

  “Here you go!” the bald man yelled, pointing at the elevators.

  Macey turned around and walked back. “Gotta love that timing.”

  Four doors all opened at the same time. Each of the cars was empty.

  “Take your pick,” the man said, holding out an open palm to the four doors.

  Macey stared hesitantly at the elevator in front of her before finally entering and pressing 3. She couldn’t remember ever being the only person on an elevator at East Shore.

  It felt strange.

  It was strange.

  She playfully waved at the smiling man, feeling like a kindergartener saying good-bye to her father from the bus on the first day of school. The doors closed, and the elevator went up.

  She exited at the third floor and found herself turning around to watch the elevator doors close. Something just happened, she thought. I don’t know what it is, but something strange just happened.

  As she approached the nurses’ station, Kaitlyn quickly put a phone call on hold and stood before pointing back over the doctor’s head down the hallway. “He just walked back into the visiting room. Go to your office and let me bring him down there.”

  “Thanks, Kait,” Macey said, forming the okay sign before turning around and heading back to her office.

  She still had her coat on and was sitting at her desk when Zach came to the door.

  “Knock, knock,” he said.

  “Come in,” she said, waving him toward her without ever turning around. “Check this out, Zach.”

  He leaned over her shoulder, and she held up one of the copies of the map Kaitlyn had printed off, with directions to St. Thomas Church.

  “Kaitlyn already told me about the little boy being a part of this cross business and also being a new patient,” Zach said. “It’s, uh, awkward.”

  “Awkward isn’t the word,” she said, shaking her head. “We are going to be working on the cross at their place on Sunday, and I’m going to be acting all happy-go-lucky while the mother won’t have the faintest idea how sick her son is. Or that I’m going to be his doctor.”

  “Until the next morning,” he said.

  “When I was talking to her on the phone to arrange for our visit, she told me the clinic called and wanted them back Monday morning. You should have heard the worry in her voice.”

  “Of course.”

  Macey imagined them all working on the cross. Hello, Miss Thomas, we are having so much fun working together today. By the way, your little boy has leukemia, but I won’t be making it official until the morning, so just try to stay calm and pass me the hammer and saw.

  “I’m not going to say anything until Monday,” she said.

  “That’s smart,” Zach said. “And when they ask you why you didn’t say anything the day before—which they will—tell them it’s hospital procedure. Which it is.” He pointed at her. “Remember that, Macey. Hospital procedure.”

  There were a couple knocks on the open door, and the carpenter she had met was standing next to Kaitlyn. He was wearing a tattered white sweatshirt, faded jeans with a hole in the left knee, tan leather work boots, and an old peacoat.

  “Hello, Dr. Lewis,” he said. He crossed the room and shook her hand, then introduced himself to Zach. “I’m Kenneth.”

  “I’m Dr. Norman,” Zach said, clearly uncomfortable with the carpenter. Macey knew he didn’t want another man around Kaitlyn and figured Zach introducing himself as “Doctor” was better than locking horns or making his mark somewhere in her office.

  She needed to dish out a quick apology. “I am so sorry I was late.”

  “No problem at all,” the carpenter said. “It gave me a chance to visit an old friend of mine that’s up on the fifth floor.”

  “Great,” she said, briefly wondering about his friend. “We are going to meet at the church at eleven on Sunday. Will that work for you?”

  “It’s perfect,” he said, pulling a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. It was another copy of the map. “And my new friend here just gave me this. I’ll be there.”

  She could practically hear the hair on the back of Zach’s neck stand when the carpenter referenced his new friendship with Kaitlyn. She guessed Zach probably wasn’t a big fan of the way Kaitlyn was looking at Kenneth either.

  “Everyone appreciates what you are doing,” Macey said. “The people from the church were thrilled to hear that you volunteered to help.”

  “And it was great of you to organize this,” he said, pulling back the flap on his coat pocket to put the map back in. Macey caught a glimpse of what looked like an apple.

  “None of us can save the whole world by ourselves,” Zach said, “but we can at least try to do our own little part.”

  Kaitlyn rolled her eyes, obviously biting her tongue. Kenneth began to button up his coat. “I think I know what you mean, Dr. Norman.”

  Macey wasn’t sure what it was about those light green eyes. Actually, it was something behind those eyes that drew her to him. Something innocent, yet powerful.

  “Have I met you before, Kenneth?” she found herself asking. “I mean . . . other than my office yesterday, do I know you?”

  “Not as well as I’d like you to know me.”

  She felt herself blushing and let out a little laugh. She wasn’t sure how to take that.

  Kenneth stepped forward and shook Zach’s hand again and then hers. “I have to run, you guys. We will have that cross looking like new.”

  “I don’t know,” Macey said. “I think it’s really bad.”

  He walked back to the door and turned around to say it again. “Like new.”

  “Like new,” she echoed. She liked the way he said it, and something about him seemed pretty convincing. “Hey, if you believe it, Kenneth, I believe it.”

  “Sometimes that’s all you have to do,” he added.

  “Do what?” Macey asked.

  Kenneth didn’t answer.

  Macey waited. They all waited, just long enough for a strange silence to completely fill the room. The carpenter finally smiled at her, then shifted his eyes straight toward Zach. He was still staring at Zach when he finally answered.

  “Only believe.”

  There was another uncomfortable pause, and Macey turned to Zach just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of something she had never seen before. It certainly wasn’t his light brown hair, which was neatly combed back. It wasn’t his crisp white dress shirt. It was practically perfect—same as his red tie, black slacks, and sixhundred-dollar matching belt and shoes. But she had seen it, and knew exactly what it was.

  Even though they were in her office, this was Zach’s territory; nobody ever dared to try and push Zach Norman around at East Shore Community Hospital. Still, she knew he had just been rattled. And the carpenter had somehow done it with just two words.

  She glanced over at Kaitlyn to see if she was picking up on the same thing. No dice. Her nurse friend was still looking at Kenneth like he was a movie star or something.

  “See you guys on Sunday,” Kenneth said. He did a quick little wave, took another long look at Zach, and then left.

  Kaitlyn peeked out of the office, down the hallway, and ran her hand across the back of her neck. “I had the weirdest feeling standing next to him.”

  “Never would have guessed by the way you were gawking at him,” Zach said.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Kaitlyn asked. “You were gawking at him too. In fact, I’ve never seen you so speechless, Mr. ‘Do Our Little Part to Save the World.’ Spare me.”

  Zach finally uncrossed his arms and whirled his index finger in a little circle like he didn’t want to listen to her. “He’s too young for you.”

  “Whatever, Zach,” Kaitlyn responded. “Seriously, though. I felt like a little kid next to him. And it had nothing to do with his looks, Zach.”

  Zach clapped his hands together and held them in fron
t of his chest. “Listen, let’s move beyond it. My alma mater is playing Wisconsin Saturday and I have killer seats. You guys want to go?”

  “I didn’t know the University of Control Freak had a football team,” Kaitlyn responded. “But I couldn’t go anyway. I think I’m covering Jo’s shift.”

  “C’mon, guys,” he said, gesturing toward Macey. “I was going to set you up with a buddy of mine from Detroit Medical. He’s a prince.”

  “Sorry. I’m working too,” Macey said. “I have to catch up on some stuff.” She felt like she was always catching up on stuff.

  “Catch up next week,” he said. “Find somebody else to cover Jo’s shift, Kait. The game will be fun.”

  “I can’t, Zach,” Macey said, honestly regretting it. First chance at a date in two years and it’s a double with a guy my BFF can’t stand and his buddy. So much for that.

  “If I find someone for Jo, can you set me up with the prince, Zach?” Kaitlyn asked.

  He gave her a frustrated sigh. “Are you telling me I should take someone else, then?”

  “Hmm,” Kaitlyn said. “With Macey out, wouldn’t that make the prince available?”

  “Come on, Kaitlyn,” Zach replied, patting her on the shoulder. “You know I’m even better than some prince.”

  “Do I?”

  “Of course,” he said, grinning in a way that let Macey know the bulk of his feathers were back in order. “Who would take a prince over a king?”

  EIGHT

  Next to the stove, the digital clock made its dinner-bell sound, letting Jim know it was 5:30 p.m. and time for supper at the Lindy house.

  He finished drying his hands and leaned back against the kitchen sink. “The news said it’s supposed to be a beautiful day tomorrow,” he said.

  “That’s what I heard too,” Shirley answered. “Midfifties and sunny.”

  “A perfect day, in my book,” he said as Shirley wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against him. There weren’t many better feelings in the world.

  “My best friend once told me something,” Shirley said. Her cheek came off his chest, and he knew she was looking up at him. She nestled in again. “He told me every day is a perfect day if you just take the time to look.”