Out of the Shadows

by Loree Lough

  And Gus.

  The young mother stood and moved woodenly toward the chapel doors. “There’s so much to do,” she whispered. And turning slightly to face him, she added, “I wondered, when my husband died, what lesson I was supposed to learn from having to plan his wake, his funeral, single-handedly.” A sad giggle popped from her lips, and she said on a sigh, “And now I know….”

  Wade hurried to catch up with her. “Would you like me to make a few phone calls? Get some of the arrangements started?”

  Mrs. Kirkpatrick took his hand again. “No, no, of course not. You’ve done so much already.” Patting his hand, she said in a strong, firm voice, “Don’t think I’m not aware how much extra time you gave Emily and me. If not for you, she’d have been gone months ago.” And squeezing his hand, she concluded, “You gave me a chance to say goodbye. I’ll always be grateful for that.”

  He hugged her for the last time. “Well, if you can think of anything, anything I can do, promise me you’ll call, all right?”

  “Actually, there is something.”

  He waited, knowing he’d try to lasso the moon if she asked it of him.

  “Would you let Patrice know? She spent so much time with Emmi, especially these past few days.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Cameron. We were very lucky, Emmi and I, finding you when we did. You’ve been a wonderful doctor, and you’re an even more wonderful man. I can see it in your eyes. I can honestly say it’s been an honor knowing you.”

  With that, she left him alone in the chapel.

  Humbled by her speech, Wade stood for a few moments in dumb silence. Then he walked to the front of the tiny chapel and stood where Mrs. Kirkpatrick had knelt such a short time ago. He looked up at the crude wooden cross, hanging from the ceiling, at the candles that flickered in their red-glass holders, at the painting beside the altar that portrayed the serene face of Christ.

  Looking into the Savior’s gentle eyes, Wade shook his head, wondering why nothing made sense. Not fathers who abandoned their families; not mothers forced to work themselves into early graves to provide for their children; not youngsters who died of heart ailments; not nice, middle-aged men who suffered from almost unheard-of diseases.

  He waited in the empty room, listening to nothing but the sound of his own shallow breaths, half expecting—no, hoping—that an answer would pop into his head, because he wanted to have faith, needed its soothing calm every bit as much as the next guy.

  When no answer came, he shrugged, feeling foolish for having given even a halfhearted attempt at finding a reason to believe. Why had he expected God would speak to him this time, when no prayer he’d ever aimed heavenward had been heeded before?

  “Hey,” Anna said, opening the door, “what a nice surprise.”

  As Wade stepped into her foyer, she called out, “Hey, kids, look who’s here!”

  Two young children came thundering down the hall. “Uncle Wade! Uncle Wade!” they yelled in unison.

  “How goes it, old man?” asked his brother-in-law. “Long time no see.”

  Anna closed the door. “There’s plenty of time for nagging later.” Standing on tiptoe, she kissed Wade’s cheek. “When was the last time you had a decent meal? You look terrible.”

  “You sure are good for a guy’s ego,” he shot back.

  “Uncle Wade,” Frank Jr. interrupted, “did you bring us anything?”

  Allie clapped her hands. “Yeah, yeah!” she agreed, jumping up and down, “what did you bring us?”

  “Just me this time, kids. Sorry.”

  “Honestly, you two,” Anna scolded. “You sound like a couple of little beggars.”

  Wade squatted to make himself child-size and held out his arms. In no time, they were filled with a five-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy. “It’s okay, Uncle Wade,” Allie said, pressing a juicy kiss to his cheek, “we like you even when you don’t bring us nuttin’.”

  “Nothing,” Frank Jr. corrected. He rolled his eyes at Wade. “Sisters. They can be so dumb.”

  Standing, Wade smiled as Anna wagged a finger under his nose. “Don’t even think about agreeing with him, brother dear.”

  It felt good to be here, among loved ones. So good that he felt generous enough to say “Wouldn’t dream of it, sister dear.”

  “You kids go into the family room,” Frank instructed, “so your mom and I can find out what your Uncle Wade has been up to.”

  “Will you eat supper with us?” his niece asked.

  “Oh, you hafta,” said his nephew. “Mom made your favorite!”

  Wade looked at Anna. “Lasagna?”

  Nodding, she said, “Thank your brother-in-law. He’s been nagging me for weeks to make it.”

  “Not ‘nagging,”’ Frank corrected, sliding an arm around his wife’s waist. “Nagging is what wives do.” He kissed her temple. “Husbands ‘badger.”’

  Laughing, the kids headed for the family room while the adults retreated to the kitchen. This had always been Wade’s favorite room in Anna’s house. Not as tidy as Patrice’s organized kitchen—what with all the colorful drawings and cutouts made by the kids—but cozy and warm all the same. Sitting at the round oak table, they drank decaffeinated coffee while they brought Wade up to date on the kids’ comings and goings. He’d been smart to come here. Maybe, by the time he was ready to leave, he’d also be ready to pay a visit to Patrice and Gus….

  When the lasagna was ready, Anna stacked plates and napkins beside Wade. “Make yourself useful, little brother.”

  Smiling, he started distributing the dinnerware.

  “You’re not dealing cards,” Frank joked, “you’re setting a table!” He grabbed the utensils and did the job himself, while Anna, hands on her hips, smiled and shook her head.

  “What?” Frank asked.

  “I’m just standing here wishing there was film in my camera, is all.”

  Their laughter attracted the kids, and before Wade knew it, the cheerful family atmosphere had seeped into him. “Gonna hafta get me one of these,” he said later, helping Anna load the dishwasher.

  “One of what?”

  “A family.”

  “You have a family, right here.”

  “I mean a wife and kids of my own….”

  “You’re outta your ever-lovin’ mind,” she teased. “Do you hear all that racket?” She pointed into the family room. “See that mess in there? You want this 24/7?”

  Wade nodded. True, a couple of times he could’ve sworn Allie and Frank Jr. had broken the sound barrier, and yes, they could turn a tidy room into something that resembled the aftermath of a tornado, but he wanted all of it—the noise, the chaos, the love that filled this house to overflowing.

  “Yeah,” he admitted, “I do.”

  “Then, I guess you’re gonna have to take down your Lifetime Bachelor shingle and start looking for a proper young lady.”

  “I’ve already found her.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d said them.

  “Frank, come in here!” Anna called. “Frank! Hurry!”

  Her husband ran into the room, newspaper in one hand, TV remote control in the other. “What’s wrong?” he gasped.

  “Honey, you’re never going to believe this, but Wade has a girlfriend!”

  Shoulders slumped, Frank rolled his eyes. “Anna, the way you were screaming, I thought you’d cut off a thumb with the bread knife or something.” Suddenly, what his wife had said sunk in, and Frank looked at Wade. “Did I hear her right? Did she just say you have a…a girlfriend?”

  Grinning, Wade put his hands in his pockets. “Well, more or less.”

  Anna dried her hands on a dish towel. “What kind of male double-talk is that, little brother? Either you have a girlfriend, or you don’t.”

  “I said I think I’ve found—what did you call her?—‘the proper young lady.’ But since I haven’t discussed this with her, I have no idea if she feels the same way.”

  �
�Well, then,” Anna said, “seems to me you have some serious talking to do!”

  Then she and her husband exchanged a glance and, speaking what Wade could only define as some kind of curious, marital language, began moving toward the front door.

  “Here’s your coat,” Frank said, jerking Wade’s sports coat from the closet. “Honey,” he said, handing it to Wade, “get the door, will you?”

  The rumble of footsteps echoed in the hall, and the kids came to a screeching halt at Wade’s feet. “Are you leaving already?” Allie asked. “We haven’t even had dessert yet.”

  “Yes,” her father answered in Wade’s stead. “Uncle Wade has work to do.”

  “What kind of work?” Frank, Jr. wanted to know. “I didn’t hear your beeper go off. Did the hospital call?”

  “This isn’t medical business,” his mother explained, shoving Wade onto the porch. “Your uncle has a girlfriend, you see, but she doesn’t know she’s his girlfriend yet, so he has to—”

  “A girlfriend? Say it ain’t so, Uncle Wade!”

  Frank struck a prayerful pose. “Alas,” he joked, “the last hero has fallen.” Then in a more serious voice, he added, “Why should he be allowed to dodge the bullet?”

  Anna narrowed her eyes. “Fra-ank…”

  The boy held his stomach. “A girlfriend.” He shook his head. “Yuck. I think I’m gonna throw up.”

  Hands clasped under her chin, Allie sighed. “I think it’s so romantic.” Suddenly, she began hopping up and down. “Can I be the flower girl in your wedding? Can I, Uncle Wade? Can I, huh?”

  Laughing, Wade said, “Have you guys ever heard the old saying ‘Don’t put the cart before the horse’?”

  “Bye, little brother.”

  “Yeah, see y’Wade,” Frank added, waving.

  Wade couldn’t help laughing. “Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry, don’t let the screen door bang your behind on the way out….”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Anna announced, nudging the kids inside. And smiling, she closed the door.

  Wade was halfway to his car when she jerked it open again. “Call me when it’s official,” she whispered loudly.

  Funny, but he hadn’t thought about Emily or Gus all evening. One thing was sure, he thought, a family had a way of keeping a guy’s mind off his problems. Yes, he wanted—needed—that.

  The clock on the dash read 8:45. And Patrice had asked Adam to tell Wade she’d keep a plate warm for him. Maybe, just maybe she felt exactly the way he did.

  He’d stopped for the traffic light at Centennial Lane and Route 40 when it hit him: If he went over there tonight, he’d either have to tell Gus and Patrice what he knew, or pretend he hadn’t seen the test results yet. Every upbeat thought, all the warm feelings built up during the hours he’d spent with Anna’s family, fizzled like a Fourth of July sparkler stuck glitter end first into a cold glass of water.

  Well, he decided when the traffic light turned green, he’d never been one to put off till tomorrow what he could do today.

  Why start now?

  He drove around for nearly an hour, passing her house three times before parking on a dimly lit side street. Opening his cell phone, he dialed her number.

  “Hello?”

  The mere sound of her musical voice was enough to lift his spirits. “Patrice, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Wade! I’m so glad you called. Is everything all right? Adam said there was an emergency, but he wasn’t specific.”

  Knowing how fond she’d grown of Emily, Wade knew it wouldn’t be fair to tell Patrice what had happened now, not on the telephone. “I was wondering if it’d be okay for me to—”

  “Are you hungry? I saved you a plate of spaghetti.”

  Despite his foul mood, Wade smiled. “No, I’m not hungry, but I’d like to stop by, if it isn’t too late.”

  “Of course you can stop by. You’re always welcome. Always.”

  She meant it, too. He could hear the sincerity in her voice.

  “Are you still at the hospital?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m about a block away.”

  “A block? But…”

  He heard her sigh, then take a breath to start fresh. “Then I have just enough time to turn on the kettle, brew us a cup of herbal tea.”

  “Okay,” he said, “see you in a few minutes, then. I won’t ring the bell, in case Gus is sleeping.”

  He closed the phone, dropped it into his shirt pocket and put the car in gear. In the minute it took to drive to her house from where he’d parked, he decided to tell her about Emily tonight, and save Gus’s test results for tomorrow. He didn’t know about Patrice, but Wade knew he’d dealt with just about all the bad news he could stand for one day.

  He stood on the porch, hands in his pockets and head down, and pictured his mother’s Bible, resting on the passenger seat of his car. When things look darkest…

  “Lord,” he began, “don’t get the wrong idea…I’m not coming to You on my own behalf. For Patrice’s sake, just give me the strength to get through the next few minutes without blubbering, okay?”

  Straightening his back, he knocked softly.

  Patrice opened the door wearing a white sweat suit and sneakers—and the warmest, most welcoming smile he’d ever seen. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

  She reached out and took his hand, tugged him gently into the foyer. Without letting go, she looked into his face. “Looks like you’ve had a pretty rough day. C’mon, let’s get you into the kitchen. I’ll fix you a nice, soothing cup of tea.”

  Wade was only too happy to follow.

  “Have a seat,” she instructed gently. “How ’bout some cherry pie to go with the tea?”

  He nodded, grinning. Anna had stuffed him full as a tick, but he said, “Sure. Why not?”

  Watching her bustle around the kitchen, doing things for him, getting things for him—for him—touched him as few things ever had. He waited until she sat across from him, then said, “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”

  Her tender smile made him want to reach out and touch her, and so he grabbed her hand.

  “Tell me about your day,” she said, stroking his fingers.

  “First, do me a favor?”

  “Sure, if I can….”

  Scooting his chair back, he patted his thigh. “Come sit over here, will you?”

  She blinked, clearly wondering about his request. Wade hoped she wouldn’t ask why he wanted her in his lap. Thankfully, Patrice barely hesitated before doing what he’d asked.

  “So here I am,” she said, wrapping both arms around his neck. “Start talkin’, mister.”

  He gathered her close, closer than he had a right to, considering he’d never bothered to admit he loved her like crazy, and for a moment, just held her. “Ah,” he whispered, “you feel good in my arms.”

  Her fingers playing in the hair at his temples, she said in a soft, soothing voice, “So you had a bad day, huh?”

  Wade nodded. Actually, it had been one of the worst.

  “I know about Emily, Wade. Adam told me earlier.”

  Wade sighed heavily.

  “Oh, Wade, I’m so sorry. I know how fond you were of that little girl.”

  Now, wasn’t that just like her, he thought, laying his hands atop hers, to put his feelings ahead of hers when she’d clearly cared as much about the kid as he did. As he looked into her tear-filled brown eyes and shook his head, it took all his willpower not to blurt out the truth about what he felt for her, here and now.

  Tilting her head, she massaged his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. “How did Mrs. Kirkpatrick take it?”

  “Pretty much as you’d expect,” he said dully.

  Her eyes welled with tears. “That poor woman.” Laying a hand over her heart, she bit her lower lip. “If it hurts me this much, knowing Emily is…is gone, imagine how Mrs. Kirkpatrick feels, having lost her only child!”

  He tucked a stray curl behi
nd her ear. “Did you know her husband died a year or so ago?”

  “She told me, early one morning, while Emily was sleeping. It was her husband’s favorite time of day, she said. He loved to watch Emmi sleep….” She grabbed a napkin and blotted her eyes. “In her shoes, I’d be a basket case,” Patrice admitted, tossing the napkin back onto the table.

  “No. You’re wrong. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.” A good thing, too, he thought, considering the news he’d have to dump on her tomorrow.

  Brow furrowed, she said, “What?”

  He blinked. “What ‘what’?”

  “You looked…you looked, I don’t know, funny just now. Like you were about to deliver bad news, and changed your mind.”

  Swallowing, Wade gathered her close again, more to keep her from reading what was written on his face than anything else. “It was nothing,” he said. “So how’s Gus?”

  “Still has a bit of a fever. And he didn’t have any appetite at all tonight. Not even for cherry pie, and that’s his favorite.”

  “Well, we’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “I certainly hope so. This waiting is enough to drive a person nuts.”

  He studied her face. Looked to him like she needed one more good night’s sleep a whole lot more than she needed the details about Gus’s condition.

  Patrice planted both hands on his shoulders. “Your tea is getting cold.”

  He felt as though he could look into her pretty face forever. “I don’t care.”

  One side of her mouth lifted in an impish grin. “And so is your pie.”

  “It was cold when you gave it to me.”

  “Well, then, it’s colder now.”

  “So?”

  “So don’t you want—”

  Wade pulled her close for a third time, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll tell you what I want,” he breathed into her ear, “I want to kiss you like there’s no tomorrow so I can forget completely about today.”

  I want to marry you, keep you safe from bad weather and bad news and people with bad attitudes, forever. I want us to have kids together, and plant tomatoes together, and grow old together….