by Gail Sattler
Mark shook his head violently, sending his hair askew in a halo around his head. “No, Uncle Jed, she didn’t call. Honest.”
Jed checked his watch for the millionth time. How long did this lunch with her sister take? He’d made it home in plenty of time to catch her call, yet the phone remained silent. No messages registered on the machine, and he’d checked it at least a dozen times to be sure it worked. Jed sucked in a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed Jillian’s number.
Jillian wiped her face on her sleeve and answered the phone with a shaking hand, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t notice the tremor in her voice.
“Jillian? Hi, I’ve been waiting for you to call.”
Her heart stopped, then started up in double-time. “Jed,” she choked out. “I’ve been too busy.”
“Are you free now? Can I come over? I’d like to talk to you.”
She knew what he wanted to talk about. Either he was going to tell her he was seeing someone else and tell her good-bye, or he would pretend nothing was going on, spouting lies of love and devotion. Her emotions were still too raw to listen to either option. “No, not tonight.” The less she spoke, the more chance she had of holding her composure. She bit her lip to keep it from quivering.
She heard Jed hesitate. “Tomorrow then?”
“No, not tomorrow, either.”
A few seconds of silence hung on the line. “Tuesday?”
“Yes, I’ll see you at your regular lesson time on Tuesday.” She had managed to keep herself under control so far, but she knew she would soon lose it. Hearing his voice, all she could picture was him laughing and smiling at the other woman. Tears burned her eyes, and squeezing them shut wouldn’t stop the flow.
Jed’s voice lowered into a smooth husky tone, filled with concern. “Jillian, is something wrong? Talk to me.”
Jillian couldn’t. “I have to go.” She hung up the phone as quickly as she could without slamming it into his ear, then unplugged it. Childish, perhaps, but she needed the time to sort everything through and get control of herself once more. Tuesday would come soon enough.
❧
Jillian checked the clock again. In only a few minutes, Jed would arrive for his regular lesson. After two sleepless nights, she felt like a zombie, yet her nerves were so keyed up, she couldn’t keep still. Every time she tried to plan what to say to him, she came up with a different answer. No commitment had ever been directly stated, but still she felt deceived.
Jillian closed her eyes, shook her head, then absently began picking through her pile of music books and stickers, sorting them into meaningless piles to keep herself busy. At the sound of Jed’s knock, a handful of paper fluttered to the floor.
Jed walked in.
She stared past him, then sat in her chair beside the piano bench. “Please sit down, Jed,” she stated formally.
“Hi, Jillian. I missed you. Did you have a good visit with your sister?”
“Yes, thank you. We should start right in, because we’re working on your new book today.” She leaned forward and opened the book, smoothing it open at the right page.
His hand touched her shoulder. “Jillian. . .” Jed mumbled in a choked voice, “talk to me.”
She couldn’t talk to him. Every version of every conversation she rehearsed flew out the window. Clearing her throat, Jillian put on her best teacher smile, ignored his plea, and recited the same lesson she’d done so many times before with so many children. When the clock on the wall indicated 2:45, she turned and smiled at him as best she could. “That’s it,” she said, trying to sound light.
Jed turned to her, his expression so sullen it nearly broke her heart. “Time for me to go get Betsy,” he mumbled.
“Now that you’re on the next level, I think we should cut the lessons back to once a week.” As much as she wanted to see him, it hurt too much. “I’ll see you next Tuesday.”
“No, Jillian, I can’t wait until next Tuesday. Can’t we talk about this?”
Jillian choked. Her eyes burned, but she would rather die before she let him see her cry again. No matter what her head told her, in her heart, she still loved him, even though his heart belonged to someone else. As a Christian, supposedly someone who valued fidelity and trust, how could he be so casual about it?
Jed reached forward and grasped both her hands in his. “Can we have lunch together tomorrow?”
She yanked them back. “I don’t know. You really should go get Betsy.”
Jed straightened his back. “Yes, I should.”
He walked to the tray, slipped his cowboy boots on, and left. Jillian sat and stared at the piano, then at Jed’s scarf, taunting her from the coatrack beside the door.
thirteen
Jed exchanged greetings with the other men, at the same time throwing his lunch pail carelessly into his locker. The men laughed and joked as they sat on the bench and changed into their safety boots, ready to start another night. Today he did not join in their lighthearted banter. His mind was on other things.
After lacing his safety boots, he placed his cowboy boots in his locker and stood still. With his hands braced on the opening, he lowering his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and drew a deep breath. What had happened?
Tuning out the clatter around him while he still leaned half into his locker, Jed prayed. He prayed for guidance and for answers. Sure, he knew Jillian’s hesitations to accept his love, but he could understand and accept that. Then, just when he finally started to hope she had managed to overcome her past experiences, she froze him out. The closeness he thought they’d developed was gone. Why? And, most importantly, what could he do about it?
“Wake up, Jed. Time to get moving!”
Jed opened his eyes and turned his head to see that everyone except for Dave had left the room to start their shift.
“Yeah, sure. Be right there.” Jed closed his locker and walked to his workstation.
The night passed even more slowly than usual. He couldn’t stop thinking of Jillian, but he came to no conclusions to explain the abrupt change in her attitude. Finally, he decided to come right out and ask her face-to-face what was wrong, or what he’d done to cause this sudden withdrawal.
When only a few minutes remained till the end of the shift, Jed heard a voice drifting down from the ceiling, calling his name. He looked up to see three members of his crew standing on the narrow catwalk, trying to adjust the fitting that held the cable to the center of the structure.
“Hey, Jed! Ya wanna come up here and help out?”
“Be right there.” Jed called from the ground level. “What’s up?”
“The walk feels a bit shaky—can you grab a toolbox and give us a hand?”
Jed couldn’t believe his eyes. One of them had loosened the center supports in an effort to adjust it. If it was out of alignment, it was the duty of the senior man to report it to the maintenance department. Jed quickened his pace to fetch the toolbox, taking the stairs up two at a time.
One of the men started walking to him as they saw him approaching, and met him at the edge. He extended his arm to take the toolbox from Jed.
Jed handed it to him. “Are you sure you should be up here? You should leave it for maintenance. It’s the end of the shift, anyway.” The weight lifted from his arm as the other man took the toolbox, turned around, and started walking back to the center of the span.
Jed stood at the edge with his hands on his hips. It didn’t feel right or safe. This was a job for someone who knew what he was doing.
Suddenly, with a creak of groaning metal, the catwalk swayed. All three men stumbled to the side at the same time, their weight jarring against the railing together. The toolbox flew over the side and crashed to the floor far below.
The sudden weight slamming against one side made the structure tilt further, and Jed heard a pop as the support they had been repairing came apart. A groan of fatigued metal sounded near Jed’s feet. As he looked down, he saw that where the catwalk was connected to the concrete
platform the metal joint had sheared. Only one bracket remained to support the catwalk, and it was bending. The structure was going to go down, and there were three men on it.
“Run!!!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. Then Jed did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed what he could of the railing, held on tight, pulled backward to brace himself against the weight, and prayed for strength. If he could hang on long enough, they could run off. The three of them would be killed from this height if the walkway came down with them on it, four stories up.
He felt the jarring of their footsteps all the way to the roots of his clenched teeth. He couldn’t yell at them to run faster.
The joint gave way, leaving the entire weight in Jed’s hands. He refused to let go with one man not all the way off. The weight pulled him forward off his feet and slammed his body down on the concrete floor. With the crashing impact, Jed saw stars. Between the pain in his chest and his face, his vision blurred, and he had difficulty breathing. He could taste blood and dirt from the concrete floor against his face. Jed never saw if the last man made it off or not. Everything started to go black. He tried to fight it.
The force and weight of the railing dragged him forward before it wrenched out of his hands, and the structure plummeted down and shattered, crashing to the ground below.
Jed gasped for breath, lying on his stomach, his head and arms hanging over the edge of the platform. He tried to move, but nothing would respond. He hurt so bad he couldn’t focus, call for help, or even move.
Someone grabbed his ankles and dragged him away from the edge. As his arms went up above his head, the pain in his shoulder was so intense it made him nauseous. Everything started spinning. He thought his head would split in two. He threw up, and everything faded to black.
❧
Jillian woke up exhausted after a fitful sleep. Through all her tossing and turning, she had come to a decision. She simply could not teach Jed piano lessons anymore. After losing her heart to him, confiding in him, and now knowing that he loved someone else, she could no longer bear to carry on as if nothing had happened.
Worst of all, he had deceived her.
Jillian swiped tears from her eyes, unable to stop her lower lip from quivering. What was wrong with her? She was a hardworking, God-fearing woman. She tried her best to be honest and treat people fairly and to respect people’s feelings.
As a stabbing reminder, Jed’s scarf still hung on the coat-rack by the front door, taunting her.
As she got dressed, she decided to spare herself the drawn-out agony. Rather than have Jed come to her house, she would go to him, tell him she didn’t ever want to see him again, and leave.
Jillian checked the time. She knew Jed got Mark off to school, so she chose to do it now and get it over with.
For a minute, she remained in her car after she parked it in front of the house, allowing herself to take a few deep breaths to compose herself before she saw him one last time. She still loved him. He had said he loved her. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, asking God for strength. One day she would work on forgiving him, but for now, she would tell him how he’d hurt her, and she would leave. She’d rehearsed her speech in her head a million times during the night. Now she would steel her nerve and do it.
Jillian stepped out of her car and carried the scarf over her arm to the front door. Holding it close, she could smell his spicy aftershave, another reminder of the closeness she had lost. Refusing to let herself cry, she held her head up high, determined to be strong. She would face him and tell him she was sorry she somehow disappointed him and say good-bye. She sucked in one last breath, for composure, and pressed the doorbell.
A dog barked, and a man who was not Jed came to the door, making her wonder if she had the right house.
“Miss Jefferson?” he asked hesitantly, recognizing her, even though she did not recognize him.
“Yes?” she mumbled, her mind blank.
“Looking for Jed?” It seemed she did have the right house after all.
“Yes, I am.” She still couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“I’m Frank, his brother-in-law, Mark’s dad. We’ve never met, but we’ve spoken to each other on the phone a few times. Please come in.” He led Jillian inside, but did not smile a greeting. Barely polite, he seemed lost in thought and was barely aware of her existence.
Jillian stiffened her back and stood as tall as she was able. “Can I see Jed?” she managed to squeak out.
“He’s not here—he didn’t come home from work last night. I just got off the phone. There was an accident.”
Jillian heart missed a beat, then pounded in her chest. An accident. Jed was hurt. Or worse, had he been killed? No! Her knees wobbled, and she felt sick.
Frank looked at her, his face rigid. “He apparently got hurt when a walkway collapsed. His actions saved the life of a man who was on it when it started to fall. They say Jed’s injuries aren’t life-threatening or anything, that he’s not that badly hurt, but he is under sedation. I want to go see him, but I don’t know what to do with Betsy. I don’t know what to expect. If he’s all connected to tubes and full of bandages I don’t want her to see him yet, and I can’t find a sitter.”
Jillian gulped. Praise God, Jed was okay. Suddenly, nothing else mattered, not his deceit, not the other woman. She had to go see him. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go see him, and if you have a message, I’ll be more than happy to relay it.”
Frank looked at her and she looked at him. She waited while he thought of something to say. “Just tell him we’re proud of him.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “Is he at General?”
“Yes, but they didn’t say which room, and I was too dumbfounded to ask.”
“I’ll go now.”
“Yes, and I’ve got to phone Liz. They didn’t phone until early this morning to say they’d taken him to the hospital, and we were really worried. We got up to get ready for work, and it was only then we realized Jed hadn’t come home. When the phone rang we knew something was wrong, because he would never stay out all night and leave us in the lurch for baby-sitting. Earlier, no one could tell us how badly he was hurt. Liz will be relieved to know it’s not serious.”
Jillian thought she had the tears under control, but they started up again. When it came to his family, Jed would always keep his promises and do what he said he would. Why couldn’t he have been so faithful and loyal to her?
The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever. She found out which room he was in, and when she arrived at the ward, she located a nurse.
“I still don’t know what happened, the extent of his injur-ies,” Jillian croaked out in a whisper.
The nurse walked behind the desk and flipped through a file. “Hmm,” she mumbled, in a businesslike tone. “You’ll have to speak to the doctor on duty.” She replaced the file to its slot, crossed her arms, and looked Jillian straight in the eye, as if waiting.
Jillian shuffled her feet, then turned her head back and forth to check both ways down the hall. “I don’t see a doctor. Do you think you could page him or something?”
The nurse grumbled. “I know where he is. Wait here.” She walked off, leaving Jillian alone by the nurses’ station.
Jillian followed the nurse with her eyes, and when she was out of sight, Jillian quickly checked for anyone else around, then hastily pulled Jed’s file from its slot.
The sheet containing a list of his injuries was right on top. The writing wasn’t too sloppy, so she hurriedly scanned the list. Four broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, multiple stitches to his hands, and his nose was broken.
Not taking the chance of getting caught reading any more in the file, she hastily replaced it in the nick of time as the nurse reappeared around the corner.
“I can’t find the doctor, but Mr. Davies is resting. You may go in now.”
That was all Jillian needed to hear. She hurriedly slipped into his room and stood beside him. His eyes we
re closed, and he seemed unaware of her presence.
He looked terrible. Most of his face was obscured with bandages that covered up his nose completely, and both his eyes were blackened, although she had heard that sometimes happened when noses were injured. His torso was completely wrapped because of his broken ribs, and his left arm was bound rigidly to his body. Both hands were completely bound by castlike bandages that covered his fingers like mittens.
If he were sleeping, she wouldn’t wake him. Rather than speak, she reached out and smoothed that unruly lock of hair off his face.
His eyes opened a slit. “Jillian? What are you doing here?” he mumbled.
She tried to keep her voice from cracking. “I’m here to see you.”
His eyes closed. “You don’t want to see me. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
Jillian bit her bottom lip. “Shhh.” She stroked his hair again. “I love you, you know.”
His eyes remained closed. “I love you, too,” he mumbled, then dozed off, with what Jillian thought was a smile on his face.
She continued to watch him, forcing herself to push aside the vision of him with another woman. She couldn’t help herself, she loved him no matter what. Perhaps there was a logical explanation, perhaps there wasn’t. The most important thing, for now, was that he was going to be all right.
Jillian checked the time, then sat in the chair beside his bed. She didn’t know how long he would sleep, but she couldn’t stay all day because she had students coming. In order to cancel lessons, she needed more notice, since most of them came directly from school. She considered leaving a note for Jed, although she had no idea what to say.
As she was digging in her purse for a pen, his eyes opened. “Are you still here?”
Startled, she looked up. “How are you feeling?” It was a stupid question, because he really did look like he had been run over by a truck, just like he had said earlier. How did she expect him to respond?
“I’m going to have a bump on my nose,” he groaned.