Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series)

by Andrea Boeshaar

  Allie circled the phonebook’s cover with her forefinger. More memories rushed in.

  After the night Jack rescued Allie from the downtown riot, he had frequented the restaurant where she worked, and eventually shared his faith. He’d been a solid believer, the model Christian man in her opinion, and Allie was soon persuaded that Jesus Christ was the Way, Truth, and Life. She became a Christian because Jack had cared for her soul. But it wasn’t long before he cared for her too, and in a much different way than his initial “brotherly love.”

  And that’s when things got complicated.

  Complicated.

  Sorrow trickled over her like cold rain. The reality of it was that at nineteen years old, she hadn’t known her own mind. She couldn’t comprehend settling down with a man who said he loved her, because she couldn’t comprehend love! All she could think about was her natural father and stepmother in California, and how much she wanted to live with them by the ocean in a state where Chicago’s long winter months would never envelop her in their gloom again. After admitting to him in a letter that she was tired of trying to make it on her own, Allie’s father offered to pay her way through college if she worked for him at his prestigious public relations firm. Deciding her dad’s offer sounded better than Jack’s marriage proposal, Allie packed her belongings and told Jack good-bye.

  “Don’t go,” he’d pleaded, tears rimming his brown eyes.

  The words still echoed in Allie’s head. Don’t go. Don’t go.

  In spite of his heartfelt appeal, she left. But she wrote to him a couple of months later, telling him she would love him until the day she died, and that she wanted―no, needed to speak with him again. She begged him not to be angry with her, but Jack never replied. Allie figured that was her cue to let things go. Focus on her future on the West Coast. When the following Christmas rolled around, Allie received a holiday card from a friend stating that Jack had gotten married. Allie knew she’d made the right choice.

  She had also decided at that point she’d been right about love all along. It didn’t last. It was as disposable as anything else in this wasteful world. Since then, her closer walk with Christ had changed her outlook on relationships. Over the years, Allie had observed blissful unions, although she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that married couples weren’t without their troubles. Still, she’d seen her friends work at it and she’d watched in amazement as their love for one another grew.

  Unfortunately, that hadn’t ever occurred in her own marriage…

  Shaking herself, she reopened the phone book and mustered the courage to call Steve Callahan. The phone rang several times before a female voice answered. She sounded young, perhaps in her teens.

  “May I speak with Steve Callahan, please?”

  “Sure, who’s calling?”

  Allie cleared her voice. “A friend of his brother’s.”

  “Uncle Jack?”

  She smiled. She had the right Callahan family anyway. “Yes. Your Uncle Jack.”

  “Hang on. I’ll get my dad.”

  Fidgeting with the phone cord, she waited. She quickly rehearsed what she’d say once he got on the line.

  “Yeah, this is Steve Callahan. Who’s this?”

  Allie wanted to laugh out loud. Same old get-to-the-point Steve. “I don’t know if you’ll remember me,” she began carefully, “but I knew you and Jack about thirty years ago, and I wondered―”

  “Thirty years ago? Who is this?”

  “It’s Allison Drake. Allie. Do you remember me?”

  A long pause.

  “Steve? Are you there?”

  “Allison Drake? No kidding? Man, I haven’t thought about you in years!”

  “More like decades.” She tried to keep her tone light.

  “Allie...? Sure, I remember...is this really you?” His voice held a note of incredulity.

  “Uh-huh.” She cleared her throat. “I’m here in Chicago on business and I’ve been wondering how Jack is doing. Can you tell me?”

  “Sure. He’s...well, he’s changed a lot. But he’s still a cop here in Oakland Park.”

  “That’s great.” Allie was all smiles, remembering how handsome he looked in his uniform. But the memory dwindled. “I can imagine how much Jack’s changed. Who hasn’t in all this time?”

  “Yeah, well...Jack’s had it tough.”

  Was he still married? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Hey, why don’t you come over for supper tonight? We can get reacquainted. I’m grilling hamburgers. You can meet my wife, Nora, and our three kids, except two of them aren’t ‘kids’ anymore. They’ve become these strange creatures known as teenagers.”

  Allie laughed softly. She knew about teenagers. Her son, Nick almost made her crazy during those tumultuous years! “Well, I don’t want to impose on your family on a Friday evening.”

  “It’s no imposition. Maybe we can even get Jack to come.” He paused as if in thought.

  So, how would Jack’s wife’s react when she met his old flame? She didn’t want to start any trouble. Allie wouldn’t dare come between a married couple. Besides, there was no reason that she and Jack couldn’t just be friendly now. Was there?

  “Where you staying?”

  “The Sheraton on North Water Street.”

  “Ooh, ritzy place. You must be doing all right, huh, Allie?”

  “Yeah, I’m doing all right. God has blessed my business.”

  “Well, God has blessed us too, but we’re just your ordinary family here. Three kids and a dog, you know?”

  “Sounds refreshing.” She couldn’t help but smile.

  A pause. “You married?”

  “Widowed.”

  “I’m sorry...”

  Allie was tempted to tell Steve not to feel sorry at all. She and Erich Littenberg had endured a stormy at best. As insensitive as it sounded, his passing proved a blessing for her and Nick. Erich had been a rich man, but a cruel one, and yet God saw to it that both she and her son survived those hellish thirteen years.

  “Allie? You still there?”

  “Yes.” She dragged herself back to the present, laughing lightly and feeling embarrassed. “Sorry, Steve. I’m afraid I’ve grown melancholy in my old age. I’ll be fifty soon, you know.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m going to stay thirty-nine forever.”

  “If you’re thirty-nine, then I’m the Queen of England.”

  Steve chuckled. “You knew me back when, so I guess I can’t pull anything over on you.”

  “Not a chance.” Allie laughed. If she remembered correctly, Steve was four years younger than she.

  “Say—” A note of concern colored his voice. “Was it recent? Losing your husband, I mean?”

  “No. He died years ago.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good…I mean that his death wasn’t recent.” Steve cleared his throat. “Hey, it’ll be fun to see you again. You need a lift? I can send my oldest daughter to fetch you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve rented a car and I think I still remember the way to Oakland Park. I just need directions to your place.”

  Steve explained the way to his house while Allie jotted the information down on a piece of paper.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you and meeting the rest of your family,” she said. “I hope Jack and his wife will be able to join us.”

  “Um, well…” Steve cleared his throat. “Look, Allie, Jack works a lot. He probably won’t make it.”

  “All right.” Disappointment coursed through her. “It’ll be nice getting reacquainted with you and meeting your family. Thanks for the invite.”

  “Sure. What are friends for, eh? See you soon.”

  Allie hung up and stared at the phone for several long moments. Regardless of the wisdom―or lack thereof―behind her decision to accept Steve’s dinner offer tonight, she’d soon be reacquainted with the Callahans.

  Allie pushed off from the edge of the king-size bed and headed for the bathroom. She paused to consider her refle
ction in the mirror. The same blue eyes as always stared back at her, eyes that had seen a lot of pain and sorrow, but had also watched the miraculous hand of God at work. Perhaps she’d get a chance sometime to tell Jack about her faith, her life.

  Allie fingered her cheek and the white scar that spanned the area from the corner of her right eye to her chin. It reminded her of a strand of cooked spaghetti, and she despised it. However, she’d learned to live with it ever since her fifth wedding anniversary and she certainly couldn’t deny the blessing it wrought. Besides, after two plastic surgeries, it wasn’t half as unsightly as it once had been. Even so, Allie planned to apply a good dose of cosmetics. To do anything less would be like advertising one of the biggest mistakes of her life, and she intended to make a good impression tonight.

  After all, thirty years was a long, long time.

  Chapter Two

  Allie considered it a miracle that she had found her way through Oakland Park. It only vaguely resembled the city she’d left behind so many years ago. True enough, it was still ten miles from downtown Chicago, but Central Avenue, the main drag, didn’t look anything like she recalled. Thirty years ago individual buildings containing offices and miscellaneous stores bordered the cracked and buckled sidewalks, but they had since been transformed into part of an appealing shopping district―one that impressed even Allie.

  At last she located Steve’s house, pulled alongside the curb, and parked. Did her stepfamily still live in this community, too? Was her stepfather still alive? She’d heard bits and pieces from friends, but they, like Allie, had lost contact with the Brackenses too.

  “Allison Drake? Is that really you?”

  Steve’s deep voice beckoned her from her musings as soon as she climbed out of the car.

  “It’s really me.” She met him on the driveway. “And you haven’t changed a bit.” She chuckled, noting the same unruly dark waves framing chiseled features and Irish baby-blues. Yes, he looked older, but Allie thought she’d recognize Steve Callahan anywhere.

  “I’m about twenty-five pounds heavier.” He frowned, patting the blue T-shirt that covered his stomach.

  Allie grinned. “You were always such a stick that a little weight actually looks good on you!”

  Steve hooted. “You and I are going to get along just fine.” He looped a brotherly arm around her shoulders. “Come into the backyard and meet my clan.”

  Allie accompanied her host around the white, aluminum-sided, two-story house, where a large golden retriever greeted her.

  “This is Buddy,” Steve informed her.

  Allie patted the friendly dog’s head.

  “And this is my better half...Nora.”

  An attractively plump woman with sandy-brown, chin-length hair stepped off the wooden deck. “Nice to meet you.” Nora held out her right hand in greeting. “Steve has been telling me about you.”

  Taking the proffered hand, Allie blushed. She couldn’t help speculating as to how Steve would describe the Allie Littenberg of thirty years ago. Make that Allie Drake. Adventurous? Rebellious? Bold as brass? Selfish?

  “Nice to meet you too,” she finally managed to reply.

  Turning, Nora pointed to the padded lawn furniture behind her. “Let’s go sit on the deck and get acquainted while my darling husband barbeques our dinner.”

  “As you can see, Allie, I’m nothing but a slave in this household.”

  She chuckled at Steve’s quip as Nora opened the patio door.

  “Ricky,” she called into the house, “bring our guest one of those blended fruit drinks I made.”

  “My son is a slave, too,” Steve grumbled in jest, donning a brightly striped chef’s apron.

  Nora rolled her blue-green eyes at her husband and smiled at Allie. Then she looked back at Steve. “Did Jack ever return your call?”

  “Nope.”

  Watching the couple, Allie sensed undefined emotions passing between them when Jack’s name came up. Anger? Disappointment? Relief? She could only guess.

  “Well, maybe it’s for the best.” Nora sat down in one of the patio chairs. She wore a comfortable-looking denim dress and as she crossed her tanned legs, she smoothed the skirt over her knees.

  “I got a hold of Logan, though. He said he’d stop over.”

  “Logan?” The wind left Allie’s lungs.

  “Jack’s son.”

  “Yes, I thought perhaps that’s who it might be...” She felt torn between indignation and amusement. Logan was their name―hers and Jack’s. Once when he had been talking about marriage, she mentioned how fond she was of the name Logan. Jack promised that their firstborn son would bear the name.

  However, the entire discussion had scared Allie senseless. At that point in her life, commitments and children sounded like a prison sentence. Nevertheless, she’d always been partial to the name. In fact, she might have been tempted to call her own son Logan if Erich hadn’t insisted upon naming him after his father, Nicholas.

  “Do you have any children?” Nora wanted to know.

  “Yes. One son. Nick. He’s twenty-five and recently married.”

  “Logan is twenty-eight. He’s a great kid.” Steve piped in from where he stood in front of the grill.

  “Logan’s hardly a kid,” Nora countered. “He’s the youth pastor at our church in Schaumburg. He’s got a special girl, but no wedding date set yet.”

  Allie arched an eyebrow. “Imagine that. My son is in the ministry too.” An amazing coincidence...but was it? As a Christian, she didn’t believe in coincidence.

  An odd expression suddenly crossed Steve’s countenance―one Allie wouldn’t even try to discern. Then he excused himself and he disappeared into the house, saying he had to fetch the hamburgers in the fridge.

  * * *

  With his jaw clenched in a mix of irritation and worry, Jack Callahan marched up his younger brother’s driveway. Why had Steve called the station? He never called him at work unless it was an emergency. Was it Logan? Was he hurt? In trouble? He took a second to mull it over. Naw, Logan wouldn’t be in trouble. Rounding the corner of the house, a cloud of smoke from the grill assaulted him.

  “Jack!”

  Squinting through the gray haze, he spotted Steve and waved the smoke away with his hand. “Why’d you phone the cops? You should have called the fire department instead.”

  Steve laughed at the barb, like he always did. “You know me, Jack. I like my burgers well done.”

  Whatever. “So why did you call the station?” He placed his foot on the first step leading up to the deck and realized Steve and Nora had a guest. Jack almost retreated, except the sapphire-blue eyes staring back at him gave him pause.

  Those eyes had haunted his dreams―and nightmares too―for over a quarter of a century.

  “I wanted to tell you Allie’s in town. Allie Drake. You remember her, don’t you?”

  Jack’s gaze shifted back to his brother’s grinning face and suddenly he wanted to pop Steve right in the nose. Did he remember Allie Drake? What a stupid question!

  “Hello, Jack.” Her voice was like honey.

  He turned as Allie stepped forward slowly, wearing an uncertain smile. She’d soon learn...or maybe Steve and Nora had told her already. He’d changed. And if Allie had returned to look for the guy she’d known thirty years ago, she was wasting her time. That Jack Callahan couldn’t be found in the deepest recesses of even his own memory.

  Yet, despite his honed cynicism, he couldn’t deny the fact that Allie looked good. Obviously life had treated her a-whole-lot than it had treated him. Her once flaxen hair had turned a lovely silvery-blond that she wore swept up except for a few strands hanging fashionably along the right side of her face. But her eyes were as blue as ever. Seeing her standing there, wearing a white dress with a red sweater draped over her shoulders, caused the ache he thought he’d long ago suppressed to return, harder and more painful than ever.

  “Hi, Allie,” he managed, unable to force inflection into his voice. “Nice to s
ee you again. How’ve you been?”

  “Great.” She sounded tentative. “Just…great.”

  She looked great too, Jack decided in spite of himself.

  “And you? How’ve you been doing?”

  So they hadn’t told her yet, eh? He glanced down at the tips of his black, leather shoes before looking over at his brother, then sister-in-law, and finally back at Allie. “I’ve been just peachy.”

  He saw her flinch at his less-than-friendly quip, but he told himself he didn’t care.

  “Allie’s in Chicago on business,” Steve said.

  “That right? Well, I hope you have a pleasant stay.” He swung his gaze at Steve. “Sorry I can’t hang around and socialize. I’m on duty.”

  “Right. I didn’t expect you’d drop in―”

  “I was driving by and figured I’d stop.” Jack chanced one last look at Allie and gave her a parting nod.

  She returned a perfunctory smile.

  “Drop in anytime, Jack.” Nora’s typical upbeat manner always grated on his nerves.

  He didn’t reply, but headed toward the squad car, parked in front of his brother’s house.

  * * *

  Steve had grilled the hamburgers to perfection and Nora created a seven-layer salad that even a trained chef on one of the TV food networks might envy, but Allie could barely choke down a bite. Seeing that stony look in Jack’s eyes―eyes that had once warmed her heart―saddened her and robbed her of an appetite.

  She glanced around the picnic table. Steve and Nora’s three children, Veronica, Ricky, and Rachel, had joined them as well as Jack’s son, Logan. The fact that Logan resembled his father, or at least the way Allie had remembered his father, caused her to feel even more unsettled. Did Jack hate her? His body language seemed to say so.

  But maybe he just had a bad day.

  No, it was more than that. Something had happened in Jack’s life. Just now she’d sensed a seismic shift in his soul, if such a thing could be possible within those moments of their brief meeting an hour ago.