Season of Joy

by Virginia Carmichael

  “Savannah, don’t worry. It was a kitchen fire and the firemen got it under control.”

  She tipped back her dark head and searched his face. “Is that a lie, Mr. Monohan?”

  He tried to smile at the question, but his sadness got in the way. She was used to adults saying one thing and meaning another. “Nope, not a lie.”

  “’Cause it looks like everything got burnded up.”

  “Burned, not burnded. And no, it was just the kitchen. The tree is fine. Everybody is okay.” His gaze went straight to Calista, then Marisol.

  “Then why is Miss Calista in the ambulance?” Savannah pointed toward Calista, tears threatening to spill over onto her round cheeks.

  “They’re just making sure she’s not hurt. It was scary, but the firemen came and are putting it out.”

  Savannah rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, her small body relaxing against him. Her mother stood off to the side, transfixed by the smoke that streamed from the kitchen roof.

  “Okay, I believe you.”

  Grant felt his heart constrict with the power of those words. There were so many people who needed reassurance. Lord, help me show them Your faithfulness.

  “But what are we gonna eat now if the food is all gone?”

  “I promise that no one will be hungry.”

  “Good. I hate being hungry.” The little girl shoved her sunglasses back up her nose.

  “Why don’t you go say hi to Miss Calista?”

  Savannah nodded and went over to her mother, slipping her small hand into hers and tugging her toward Calista. Grant watched them with a heavy heart. So many people depended on this mission, on him.

  The fire raged on, the hoses poured thousands of gallons of water on the flames, and through it all, Grant had a running conversation with God about Calista, the mission, his future, his father. Why, Lord? Why now? And then he would glance back at Marisol resting on the ambulance table and gratitude would sweep over him again. Thank You for keeping them safe.

  “Are you the director?” A slight man in a fireman-captain’s uniform appeared at the side of the emergency vehicle.

  “I am.” Grant stood up, his body tensing with the news he knew was just seconds away.

  “Well, you’re really lucky no one was seriously injured because electrical fires spread quickly. We’ve got it contained now. But the kitchen is a total loss.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Calista sat huddled in a blanket, taking tiny sips of coffee and watching flames shoot through the roof of the Downtown Denver Mission. Marisol was a few feet away, staring blankly into the smoky sky. Calista didn’t know if she was praying or in shock. She hadn’t said much of anything since Calista had led her out of the refrigerator and through scorching flames.

  She was aware of the bitter smell of burned hair and for the first time Calista put up a hand to her head. Sure enough, clumps of hair came away when she ran her fingers through it. She sighed. How many days had she gone to work with her hair down? Two, maybe three? But she had wanted to look nice for Grant and left off her usual French chignon or softly made bun. The irony of it was almost laughable. She would have to call her hairdresser and have some sort of stylishly short ’do for a while.

  Calista shook the hair off her fingers and went back to watching the fire. Or watching Grant watching the fire. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and paced for a few minutes. Then he ran his hands through his hair, looked over at Marisol and back at the fire. Then he started with the pocket stuffing and pacing again. She knew what it was like to watch your home burn to the ground. But she had no idea what it was like to watch your home burn, and know hundreds of people depended on you for survival. Their Christmas was ruined.

  Lissa and Michelle weren’t too far away, surrounded by kids, waiting for parents to come. A few of the little ones were crying but most were jumping up and down in excitement. Two firemen walked over to hand out stickers and show the kids the gear.

  Lissa caught Calista’s gaze and wandered over, her arms wrapped around her thin waist.

  Calista blinked up at the teen, and forced a smile. “How are the kids?” She couldn’t imagine herding dozens of small children out of a building with the fire alarms wailing.

  Lissa bent down and gave Calista a fierce hug, then stood back. The expression on her face was a mixture Calista couldn’t quite decipher.

  “And that was for...?”

  “For asking about the kids when you’re the one who’s sitting in the back of the ambulance.”

  “I’m actually on the bumper, but I see your point.” Calista grinned, wondering how Lissa managed to be so defensive and endearing all at the same time. “And thank you for the hug. I needed it.”

  Lissa nodded, her gaze fixed on the man who paced the sidewalk. She flipped her dark braid back over one shoulder and said, “I wish a hug fixed everything, but it doesn’t.”

  Calista sighed. “Truer words were never spoken.”

  “I’ve got to get back to the kids. Michelle says this is the very first class we’ve ever run in the parking lot, with firemen as assistants.”

  She laughed, and raised a hand to Lissa’s coworker, who looked ready to hand out kids as party favors. Lissa went back to her group and the kids surrounded her. She was sarcastic and tense, but something in that girl touched Calista and reminded her of her own teen years.

  Her gaze was jerked back to the scene in front of her as the fire chief interrupted Grant’s twentieth tour of the sidewalk and delivered what must have been the bad news. Calista wasn’t near enough to hear the words, but she was near enough to see his shoulders slump. He nodded, his features stiff, and shook the chief’s hand before the fireman went back to his crew.

  Calista wanted to run to Grant and throw her arms around him, as if that would shield him from what had already happened. She knew there was no use in trying to pretend it was all right, or put a positive spin on the situation. The mission was crippled, maybe permanently.

  She raised her eyes and saw him regarding her steadily. She slowly lifted a hand, maybe in greeting or in goodbye since she wasn’t sure where he would go from here. Maybe this would be one of the last times they saw each other. He was going to have way more on his mind than getting to know her. She felt as though someone had grabbed her by the throat, the feeling of loss was so sudden. Tears sprang to her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. How ridiculous to cry over Grant, when hundreds of vulnerable people in poverty were in a truly terrible situation. But it was no use yelling at herself; the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. She ducked her head and swiped at her face.

  “You need to go home and get some rest,” he said, suddenly a few feet away.

  Calista frowned, mopping her face one last time with the edge of the blanket. “I’m okay,” she said, trying for confident but sounding argumentative.

  He sat down next to her and was silent for a moment. They watched the firemen winding their hoses back on to the trucks. Most of the workers had gone home, but Jose hovered near the fire trucks and Lana remained near the corner, giving periodic statements to reporters when needed. Calista felt a surge of gratitude for the middle-aged secretary.

  “I can give you a ride home.”

  Calista glanced up, surprised. Did he think she wasn’t able to drive herself? She must look worse than she’d thought.

  “I’m really okay. It was pretty darn scary, I admit. But everything worked out...” The words trailed away. It didn’t work out for the people who relied on the mission for meals. She jumped back in before Grant could speak. “Is there anything I can do? What’s the plan for providing meals? I’m sure you’ve notified the board and there’s probably an emergency backup plan.”

  He turned to look her full in the face and she struggled not to let another tear slip away from her. His expr
ession was so raw, his despair so clear, that it took her breath away.

  “The board has been notified. The residents may stay in the unaffected buildings, so they’ll be able to sleep here and have classes. Our paperwork and computers survived, which is a blessing. But the kitchen...” Grant turned back toward the smoking corner of the main building. “The kitchen is the heart and soul of this mission’s outreach. A lot of people would never come through these doors if they weren’t hungry. Once they have a hot meal, they can face a lot of their other issues.”

  Calista stared at Grant’s profile, finally understanding. “It all started with the kitchen, didn’t it? When it was founded?”

  He nodded.

  “So...” Calista hated to say anything that might bring back that look of despair. But what was the plan? Did they all just go on without a kitchen?

  “So,” he repeated, sounding a little stronger. “We’ll be assessing the damage and probably have some smoke issues with the lobby. I think the offices were spared any smoke damage because the main door was closed.”

  She felt a burst of relief, hoping that meant she was supposed to come back. He moved to sit down next to her on the ambulance bumper and stared at the smoking kitchen.

  “You never did tell me how much of the funding is earmarked for repairs. How long would the board take to authorize construction on a new kitchen?”

  He turned to face her, bright blue gaze soft on hers. “You’re right. I forgot to outline all of that.” He paused. “You know, Calista, I wanted to thank you for being here. Not just what happened with Marisol.” He paused, swallowing audibly and glancing away for a moment. Calista waited, scanning his face for the little flickers of emotion that hinted at everything he held inside.

  “I wanted to thank you for taking an interest in the mission. A lot of people don’t want to be bothered with the paperwork or the dirty details of fundraising.”

  Calista let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. What did she think he was going to say? That he was glad for her sparkling personality? She swallowed back her disappointment and nodded brightly. “Well, that’s what I do best, Grant. Some people lead the sing-alongs or wipe noses. I like the paperwork. And I’m more than willing to help organize the fundraising for the new kitchen project.”

  “I’ve seen you wipe a few noses.” He contradicted her, his tone teasing.

  “True, but if it’s a choice between paperwork and wiping a nose, I choose paperwork any day.”

  He laughed. “We’re two of a kind there, I guess.”

  She glanced at the smoking ruins and continued in a softer tone. “I know it must be so hard to see all your work ruined, but the faster you start rebuilding, the better it will be for the mission.”

  “And that’s what I’m talking about, right there. Someone else might say that a disaster like this is a huge setback and we should take our time, maybe even close down for a while.”

  Calista shook her head, struggling to keep her thoughts straight under threat of that smile. “Sure, that would make sense if we weren’t talking about people. Buildings can wait, stores can open months later than planned, but hungry people can’t wait.”

  He didn’t answer, just kept smiling. Then he slowly reached out a hand and ran a thumb along her jaw.

  Calista felt as if her whole body had been thrown into a pot of hot water. Her cheeks flushed and she wanted to say something, anything. But her voice was gone, along with any ability to form a complete thought.

  “You have soot on your face,” he said, very softly.

  “Oh.”

  His eyes crinkled with laughter. “Yes, oh.” And then he was leaning closer, one arm resting lightly behind her back. For a fleeting moment, Calista flashed back to the first time he had been this close. She had thought he was going to kiss her and he was actually giving his security badge to the cafeteria girl. Maybe she should turn and look behind her, just in case he was reaching for something in the back of the ambulance?

  The next moment she knew for sure. Grant’s lips pressed softly against hers and she couldn’t keep her eyes open one second longer. She was lost; his arm against her back and his lips against hers were the only important things in the entire universe.

  He sat back a few inches, still close enough for her to see the rough stubble on his jaw and the thick dark lashes that rimmed his bright blue eyes. “Now I know.”

  “Know what?” Her voice came out all breathless.

  “That you won’t run away if I try that.”

  The idea of turning tail at the sight of an impending kiss from Grant startled a laugh out of her. “Why would you ever think I’d run?”

  His lips curved up, even as sadness flared behind his eyes. “Plenty of reasons. This isn’t a nine-to-five job. And a lot of times I get wrapped up in the problems the residents are having. I should be more distant, but I just can’t be.”

  Calista lifted her hand to his cheek and whispered, “That’s what I like about you. Of all the people I’ve met, you would have the best excuse for being distant. But you’re not.”

  He shook his head, the movement insistent against her palm. “Because I’m not bitter that things haven’t always gone the way I’ve wanted?”

  Calista waved her hand at the smoldering ruins of the kitchen. “This is a little more than not getting what you want. This is watching hard work, effort, hopes and dreams...” Just the words made the reality of the situation so much more real, Calista felt overwhelmed. She struggled to speak past the lump in her throat. “I’ve been here two months and this fire breaks my heart. It makes me wonder what God is thinking.”

  Grant sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I know. But in Jeremiah it says that God wants to show us great and marvelous things. So, maybe He has to burn down a kitchen or two in the process.”

  Calista stared out toward the smoking lobby area, the firemen sorting their gear into piles and wrapping up hoses. The snowdrifts were black and dirty, puddles of water mixed with slush. She thought of her mother, and the fire that took her life. What great and marvelous things came from that? Pain rose up in her chest like a wave of icy water. She struggled to take a breath. I trust in You, Jesus. I trust in You. Calista rested her head on Grant’s shoulder and closed her eyes, fighting back the fear. Fear that she was all alone in the universe, that God was a myth made by fragile, human minds.

  “Mija?” Marisol’s trembling voice shook Calista out of her thoughts. The older woman walked toward them, still wrapped in a brown emergency blanket.

  She stood up and hugged Marisol for all she was worth. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice catching. “I’m so sorry for leaving you in there.”

  “But mija, you did not leave me! You saved me.” Marisol’s tone was indignant.

  Calista just shook her head and hugged harder. Finally, she stepped back and wiped the fresh tears from her face.

  “And we are all safe, that is what matters,” Marisol declared, her brown eyes flashing. “And plus, it seems some good has come out of this already.” She nodded her head at Grant and gave Calista a huge wink.

  She felt the heat rise in her cheeks but couldn’t suppress the grin that spread over her face.

  “I knew it would take something very big to get Mr. Monohan to show his feelings to you. And for you, too, Calista.” She shook a finger at the two of them, each in turn.

  Grant made a choking sound and started to protest. “It wasn’t the fire, really...”

  But Calista never heard the rest because the fire chief came over then.

  “We’re heading out, Mr. Monohan. Again, I’m sorry about what happened to the mission. If there’s anything we can do, let me know. Maybe we can help with fundraising.”

  Grant thanked the chief for the team’s efforts. “I’ll be sure to give you a call when we get a
plan.”

  As they watched him walk away, Marisol said, “Mr. Monohan, I better get home and wash these smoky clothes. Jose said he’d give me a ride home.” She gave them both one last hug and walked over to Jose, who gave them a sad-looking wave before heading home.

  Calista sighed. “Me, too. And call my hairdresser.”

  For the first time, Grant seemed to notice Calista’s damaged hair. His mouth dropped open in shock and he gently ran his fingers through one side of the sooty mess. Broken and singed strands came away with his hand.

  “Oh, Calista,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “You’re sorry about my hair? The mission kitchen just burned down and you’re worried about my hair?” The more she thought about it, the funnier it was. Soon, she was doubled over, tears leaking from her eyes. Grant watched her, bemused.

  “Let me take you home,” he said, concern edging his voice even though his expression was light.

  Calista took a deep breath, and straightened up, struggling to keep her face straight. “Sorry, maybe it wasn’t that funny. I definitely need a hot bath and some calm music.” She handed her blanket back to the ambulance crew and turned just in time to see Jackie running toward them.

  “Calista! I’ve been calling you for hours.” Her voice was high-pitched with panic, eyes sweeping over the scene and Calista’s ruined clothes.

  “Jackie, everything’s okay, we’re fine.” She rushed to reassure her friend, reaching out with one sooty hand. “Did you see the fire on the news?”

  Jackie stepped back from her touch, careful not to get her pale violet suit smudged. “No, I didn’t. But you missed the big board meeting at one and since no one could reach you, the directors were having fits.”