by Lois Richer
“Mama?” he moaned.
“Yes, honey. It’s Mama,” Glory murmured, glad no one was near enough to hear. She rearranged his shirt so it didn’t pull against his wound, straightened his blankets. Then there was nothing else to do.
She should go home, go to bed, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. So Glory sat by Bennie’s bedside, his hand folded in hers as she prayed for God to help this precious child. But every time her eyes closed she saw Jared Steele folded into a rocking chair far too small for him, cradling a little girl who hurt.
At dawn one of the nurses tapped her shoulder. Glory lifted her head from the bed, rubbed the back of her aching neck. Bennie wiggled when she kissed him, but he didn’t wake up. She lifted his red sailboat from the floor, tucked it by his bed. If she hung around longer, she’d wake him. Glory decided to go for a swim.
In her cottage she changed, then tucked her Bible into her beach bag. Sitting on the sand, with the waves lapping at her feet, was the perfect place to talk to God about her confusion. She was almost finished her prayer for Bennie when a rattle on the path behind her drew her from her introspection.
Jared. Judging by the fan of lines around his mouth and the redness of his eyes, he’d also had little sleep.
“Am I disturbing you?’
“Of course not. I’m psyching myself up to go in.” She grimaced. “The water always feels cooler in the morning.”
“Hmm.” Clearly he didn’t feel the same for he dropped his towel, waded in and immediately began swimming toward the deep.
“Good morning to you, too,” she muttered. But it was too lovely a day to be grumpy, so she swam a few laps, went through her usual aquacize routine and then lazed on her back, watching the fluffy clouds scud across the blue sky.
“Are you still interested in coming to Honolulu today—with me?” Jared asked.
Glory flailed in the water for a moment, surprised that he was so near, that she hadn’t heard him approach. His hand grabbed, helped her find her footing.
“Yes, I am. Unless you don’t want company.”
“It’s not that.”
But it was something. She could tell from the way his forehead pleated.
“I don’t need an escort,” she assured him. “Just tell me where and when to meet you and I’ll be fine.”
“I have a couple of meetings. I’ll be tied up most of the day. But we could have dinner later, if you like.”
“It’s not necessary.” What meetings?
“Can you be ready to leave in two hours?”
“Sure.”
“Good. See you later.” He waded out of the water, toweled down and pulled on a T-shirt and shoes before jogging up the hill.
Suddenly the sea didn’t offer the same balm it had before his arrival. Glory emerged from the water chilled, and not just by the air.
Something was wrong and she didn’t understand what. Maria? Sister Phil?
God, I feel like I’m missing something. I want to help Jared but I don’t want to intrude. Please show me how I can be an extension of You.
She gathered her things, returned home to shower and change, leaving just enough time to check on Bennie. He smiled at her with his usual sunny good humor, handed her the Valentine he’d made with the nurses’ help.
“It’s lovely, darling.” She thanked him with a hug, savoring the feel of his chubby arm around her neck as he laid his cheek against her chest. The other arm he kept tucked at his side, proof that the tightening skin was restricting his range of motion. He clung to her hand as she moved around the ward. Eventually he perched on her knee, waiting for her to read his book.
Bennie’s happy gurgle of laughter at the story’s silly conclusion squeezed her heart. He was so precious, so dear. How could Jared not help him?
She coaxed him to play finger games until it was almost time to leave.
“Have a wonderful Valentine’s party with the nurses, Bennie,” Glory whispered in his ear. Bennie was finally persuaded to let go of her hand, but he ran back for a hug just before she walked through the door.
“I think someone has a crush on you.” The nurse winked.
“I have a crush on someone, also,” Glory told her, heart aching as a nurse encouraged him to toss the ball. He didn’t even try to use his injured side.
“I hope you have a bunch of your own kids someday. You’re a born mother.”
“I think that’s a ways off, but I hope so, too.” Glory’s laugh caught in her throat as she turned, saw Jared’s face. His stare bored into her, through her, his eyes glacial chips. “I’m sorry if I made you wait,” she apologized.
“You didn’t.”
They walked to the car without further conversation. He drove silently, perhaps a little too fast, his face like chiseled granite.
Glory held her peace as long as she could but finally blurted out, “Is something wrong?”
“What?” He jerked out of his stupor, twisted his head to look at her, though she couldn’t read his expression because of the dark sunglasses. “I’m fine.”
“If you say so. Are you going to be tied up with your meetings all day long? I’m only asking,” she hurried to explain, “because I wondered if you want to meet for lunch. Of course, I have my cell phone, so if—”
“I’m not sure how it will work out but I anticipate being there all day.”
“Oh.” Shut down, Glory leaned back in her seat and studied the lush countryside.
After several moments Jared let out a pent-up breath.
“I’m going to a hearing. For Viktor.”
Glory caught her breath at his bitter tone.
“He’s apparently remorseful, they think maybe even suicidal. The place where he’s been serving his time hasn’t the medical care he needs, so they want to move him to a lower-security facility.”
“Which you don’t want.”
“No.” A sheen of anger radiated from him. “I don’t want him to ever leave the walls he’s encased in. Especially not now.”
“What do you mean ‘now’? Has something changed?”
“He claims he’s become a Christian.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“It’s a little too convenient. He’s been in for three years. Suddenly he’s sorry for deliberately ramming their car over a cliff.” Jared snorted his derision. “I guess you could say I have a problem with that penitence, yeah.”
“Maybe three years has given him the time to realize how wrong he was.”
“Maybe.” His jaw flexed. “I know what you’re going to say, Glory.”
“Do you?”
“God forgives us if we ask Him,” he singsonged. “He doesn’t put stipulations on what He will and won’t forgive. Even the most heinous sinner can be forgiven if he asks.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Can’t or won’t? Doesn’t matter because even if someone’s forgiven or not, he still has to pay for his crime. At least in our society.”
“And you want Viktor to serve his full time in maximum security.”
“Every last second,” he affirmed bitterly.
“When will you be satisfied, Jared?”
Silence.
“In—twenty years?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Okay, twenty-five. After twenty-five years have passed, are their deaths more forgivable? Or is that simply the amount of time you need to cool down?”
“Stop it.”
“I really want to know.” She modulated her voice, striving to sound interested without condemning. “How long do you need before you’ll be satisfied? Or is what you’re really after something entirely different?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He knew. Glory could hear it in his voice.
“Stop pretending, Jared. The only thing that will satisfy you is this man’s death.”
“Yes!” He ripped off his sunglasses, tossed them on the dashboard.
Glory fought back her emotions, prayed for the right
words.
“What if you die first? What if you wait years and years and you never get to see him pay the ultimate price?” The thought of Jared wasting his life brought tears. “At the end of your life, when there are no more days, no more hours, when you’ve wasted every moment you’ve had—will the cost of your hate be worth it then?”
“It’s not like that. I’m not frozen into revenge.” He shot her a look of pure frustration. “Is it so wrong to want justice?”
“Everybody wants justice.”
“So?”
“There’s a difference between wanting to see justice served and putting your life on hold until it happens.”
“What’s your answer?” he sniped.
“You won’t like it.”
“When did that ever stop you?” His smile held no mirth.
“Forget about him. Diana and Nicholas died. It was a terrible thing that shouldn’t have happened, but it did and there’s nothing you can do to change it, nothing you can do to undo the damage or heal the wounds. In a way it’s like a burn.”
“A burn?”
“I know it sounds a little odd, but think about it. A burned child arrives at Agapé. What do we do?”
“We clean the burn, we assess the damage, we try to treat it.”
“Yes. But we can’t heal it. The skin has to grow on its own. We try to support that process, of course, but nothing modern medicine has can undo the burn. Only time heals. With God’s help.”
Jared eased onto the freeway, his focus on the road. He steered around traffic, found a parking space and pulled in.
But Glory couldn’t get out. Not yet.
“Diana and Nicholas are in Heaven, Jared. They’ve never been anyplace better, happier. Their healing is complete.”
“Am I supposed to be glad that I can’t wish my son happy birthday? That I can’t wish my wife happy anniversary?” he snapped.
“Today?” Glory almost groaned as his head jerked once, in the affirmative.
Oh, why hadn’t she shut her mouth?
Help me say the right thing.
“Nicholas is having the best birthday he could have with his Heavenly Father, Jared. Do you imagine, even for a second, that you love him or Diana more than God does?”
She opened the car door, stepped out and carefully closed it.
“I’ll be free whenever you want to return. Just call my cell.”
As soon as he nodded, Glory turned and quickly walked down the street. She came to a coffee shop. Coffee in hand, she searched a street directory for the nearest church. She needed the precious peace of a sanctuary now.
She was head over heels in love with a man who would never love her the way she yearned to be loved.
Chapter Ten
The stuffy room wasn’t much bigger than his largest treatment room at Agapé.
Jared shuffled in his chair struggling to concentrate on what the members of the hearing board were saying. But he couldn’t get his mind off Glory’s last words.
They’ve never been happier.
They rattled round and round his head until he wanted to scream.
“I understand you have something you wanted to say, Dr. Steele?”
Jared jerked out of his introspection. Everyone watched him. Only by forcing every muscle to respond was he able to rise as he wrestled to pronounce the damning words he’d thought lay on the tip of his tongue ready to pour out.
They weren’t there.
“Today is…was my anniversary. It would also have been my son’s sixth birthday. Valentine’s Day. It’s supposed to be a day to share love, but I don’t feel that.”
Can’t undo the damage or heal the wound.
“Dr. Steele? Are you all right?”
Jared wasn’t. Inside he was coming apart, fracturing into a million pieces. He didn’t want to remember them here, not with him watching.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I can’t do this. Not today.”
He got himself outside as quickly as possible, stumbled down the steps and toward his car. Once there he climbed inside, drew in great gulps of air until his heart rate settled and he could see through the wash of tears that left his face damp.
He opened the glove box to search for a tissue, saw the photo lying on the floor.
Nicholas.
The yearning to hold that wiggling body in his arms, to brush his lips over the dark head, to grasp that chubby little hand in his—his heart sobbed.
Then the world righted itself and he saw the bandage.
Bennie’s picture.
Glory must have dropped it.
“Jared?” Her voice sounded so near.
He twisted his head, met her compassionate gaze.
“What are you doing here?”
“My appointment was in there.” He jerked his head toward the court building, which suddenly felt miles away. “You?”
“I was in the church.” She pointed at a side street but her focus remained fixed on him. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine.” He composed himself with a few deep breaths, reached across and opened the car door. “I was going to pick up some Valentine treats for the kids. Want to come?”
“Yes!” She climbed in. “Also, I want to get something special for Sister Phil. I know she probably won’t be able to eat chocolate. But I want something really nice for her, anyway.”
As they fell into their easy banter, the gloom lifted. Jared headed for the Aloha Tower.
“Will you help me choose a gown for her to wear in bed? The one she has is difficult for her.”
Glory beamed with excitement. “This will be fun.”
“More than you know.” He expected her curious glance. “This mall has the best gelato in town.”
“I think I like gelato.”
“You’ve never had it?” She shook her head. “Then we’ll order some for our dessert.”
“Dessert?” She frowned. “Jared, I really want to get back in time for dinner this evening.”
“Oh.” It was obvious she was up to something. Her green eyes sparked an orange ember in their depths that hinted at mischief and intrigued him. “What’s the rush?”
“I hired some people to put on a puppet show. I want to watch it with the children.”
“A puppet show?”
“Kahlia told me about them. They’re going to rig up an outdoor stage on the side. Those who can’t go outside will have their beds wheeled to the windows.”
Always the kids.
“Perhaps we could make up a couple of piñatas,” he offered, remembering Nicholas’s delight the day Diana had insisted on hanging one.
“Really?” She practically danced out of the car and into the shopping center.
When Glory turned left, he took her arm, steered her in the opposite direction, toward the candy store.
“Oh, my.” She began assembling her order.
Jared kept the other clerk busy with his own chocolate order for the staff. Diana had started the tradition and he’d kept it up, knowing he didn’t thank them often enough. Then he and Glory put their heads together and chose the piñatas and their contents. By the time they were finished it was well past noon and he was starving.
They made a quick detour so Glory could help him choose the perfect gown for Sister Phil. In return he helped her select a bouquet of Sister’s favorite flowers.
“Lunch?” he suggested, juggling packages.
Glory sniffed the flowers she held, nodded. “Where?”
“Follow me.” He led her to a fast-food chain.
“You’re kidding.” She stared at him deadpan.
“I know we medical people are always preaching healthy lifestyles and I do try, but I’m craving a burger and fries.” He backtracked quickly. “If you’d rather have a salad or something, I think they have it on the menu.”
“Don’t even think it.” An imp of mischief danced in those remarkable eyes.
After lunch Jared led her toward the gelato shop.
�
��Choose whatever you like.”
“Blackberry,” Glory ordered after one swift glance at the menu. A young woman hurried away to fill her request. “What are you having?”
Amusement flared in her eyes when their server didn’t bother to ask him, simply dished up a giant serving of chocolate hazelnut.
“I see you’ve been here before,” she teased as he held the door open for her.
“Once or twice,” Jared admitted. He chose a table with chairs in the sun.
Glory insisted he taste her treat, no doubt so he’d reciprocate. Jared quashed that hope.
“I’d offer you some of mine but I never share anything chocolate.”
“Hmm. You’re going to need to swim a lot of laps to work that off,” she hinted, holding out her dish and blinking in a femme fatale parody. “Let me help you out.”
“Back off, woman. I’ll buy you your own dish if you want, but you’re not getting mine, so stop drooling.”
“Some mothers should have taught their sons to share.” She scraped the sides of her dish noisily.
“Some doctors from the Arctic shouldn’t be so fond of frozen food.”
“Some doctors are like the pot calling the kettle black,” she shot back. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are prepared to admit you can’t possibly finish that entire dish yourself.”
He ate it all, just to prove a point.
“Feel free to call on Dr. Xavier’s service later, when your stomach aches.”
“Not gonna happen.” The day was turning out better than expected.
“You didn’t tell me how your meeting went,” she murmured gently when they were back in the car, heading home.
“I left early.” Jared changed the subject to preparation of the piñatas. They decided there should be three sites. “But how can we make it so they’ll all have a swing?”
Glory chuckled. “Hang the youngest ones’ piñata on an IV pole.”
“Brilliant, Doctor. And the others?”
She tilted her head back, closed her eyes. “I’ll think of something,” she promised.
But she fell asleep instead.
Jared cut his speed so her long hair didn’t whip quite so hard in the wind. She slept deeply, thick lashes resting on her sun-kissed cheeks, lips slightly parted. Her small capable hands lay loosely in her lap atop the picture of Bennie.