All in One Place

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “I could.” I nodded, declining to accept the offer. Church hadn't turned out all that well the last time. I wasn't eager to repeat the humiliation. “So tell me about Anneke,” I said as I zipped up my purse. “What's her latest new thing?”

  Leslie brightened, distracted by any mention of her daughter. “The other day we went for a walk and she said she hoped there weren't any ‘hopgrassers’ around this year. It was so cute, I had to write it down.” She told me about Nicholas's new words. Dan's latest plans.

  The tension in my neck loosened and my shoulders dropped as the calming influence of the commonplace settled my churning thoughts.

  Finally, the muffled ring of the phone summoned her. The door fell shut behind her and I settled back in my chair, letting my eyes follow the contours of the land as silence wrapped itself around me.

  This is nice, I thought, momentarily thankful for the hiatus my little adventure in the bar had created. Had I not been forced, how long would I have stayed here? A week? Maybe ten days?

  I was getting comfortable here. I was connecting with my sister, something that hadn't happened in a long time. Nicholas and Anneke didn't stare at me with that puzzled look, as if to say, “Who are you?”

  You don't belong here…

  I pushed the cynical voice aside. She was getting shrill and boring. I leaned back in the chair and sighed lightly. Aside from all the faith stuff, I enjoyed being with my sister again.

  The screen door creaked open, and Leslie stood in front of me, holding out the receiver. “It's for you,” she said with a puzzled lift of her eyebrow.

  My heart gave one long, slow thump of fear. Had Eric found me?

  “Hello?” I said, swallowing down my fear.

  “How are you doing?” Jack's deep voice turned the thump into a flutter.

  “Fine,” I said cautiously. “How did you find me here?”

  “Lennie said you had the day off, and there was no answer at Helen's, so I assumed you were at your sister's place. I've got good news. Ralph agreed to drop the charges.”

  “So that means?”

  “You're free to go. I can't release your bail money for a couple of days, but you'll get that back eventually as well.”

  “Really?” I sat back in my chair, suddenly boneless.

  I would have my money back. I could start making plans again.

  I could leave.

  Leslie hovered over me, her eyebrows lifted in a tell-me-as-soon-as-you-hang-up look.

  Did I really want to go? Start all over in a new city, a new place?

  “I was also wondering what you're doing this Friday night.”

  This pulled me back from my mental meanderings. “Working. Why?”

  “Yeah, but you get off at seven o'clock. Would you like to go to a movie, maybe coffee afterward?”

  “With you?”

  “I usually like to arrange my own dates, yes.” Jack had lowered his voice, creating a gentle intimacy that, in spite of the warmth of the day, sent a faint shiver dancing down my arms.

  And I didn't know what to say.

  “If that's a problem…”

  “No. No problem.” Complication, yes. Problem, no.

  Leslie's hovering was making me nervous. I knew what she thought of Jack and me, and while part of me didn't care, another part of me wanted her to approve. I liked Jack. I was attracted to him. Why not go out on a date? What could happen?

  “Yeah. I think I will,” I said. I gave Leslie a Don't worry smile. “So I'll see you Friday, then.”

  I said good-bye, disconnected, and laid the handset down on the table beside me.

  “And? What did he want?” Leslie pulled her chair closer, as if proximity would pull the information from me quicker.

  I leaned back in my chair and wrapped my hands around the back of my head as I digested this latest piece of information. Should I tell her? She'd find out sooner or later anyway…

  “I have a date.” My eyes flitted over her, then past to the mountains edging the valley.

  “Jack phoned to ask you out on a date?”

  I nodded.

  “And you're going to go?” Leslie's frown did not bode well for any encouragement about my date. I didn't want her disapproval ruining the quiver of pleasure that curled in my midsection at the thought of going out with Jack.

  “Oh, yeah, and I won't be needing a lawyer after all. Ralph is dropping the charges.”

  “So you're free to go.”

  “Yes.”

  “And will you?”

  I held her steady gaze as conflicting emotions pulled me back and forth. Stay. Go.

  “Well, I have a date for Friday night, so I'll be around at least until then.”

  Leslie gave me a feeble smile, but I could see that she was less than impressed with my current life's plan. “You make sure you don't hurt him.”

  “It's just a date.”

  “When you're a single guy over thirty and living in a small town, there's no such thing as ‘just a date.’ Please don't lead him on.”

  Leslie's concern for Jack's well-being would have been touching if I wasn't the one she was warning.

  “I won't lead him anywhere, Sis. Don't worry.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I'm going on record as saying I'm sure I've been more bored at some point in my life, but I must've expunged that memory from my mind,” Jack said, putting the key in the ignition of his truck.

  “I'll bet the credits would have been interesting,” I said, tucking my hands in the pockets of my jacket as I leaned back against the seat, “if you'd let us stick around to see them.”

  “And let that movie suck even a few more minutes out of my life?” Jack started the truck, then glanced at me. “I know you said you didn't want to do coffee, but I can't take you home yet. I'm sure you need some time to recuperate from that traumatic experience.”

  I was surprised he persisted. With Leslie's faint warning echoing in my subconscious, I had told him that I needed to go directly home after the movie. I hadn't counted on enjoying his company as much as I did. He knew exactly how to mock bad movies, bad acting, and sentimental music.

  A movie critic after my own heart.

  And even better—he didn't think he had to get his money's worth by sticking around, when it was obvious to both of us the only thing that would redeem the movie was the projector breaking down.

  So he tugged on my hand and said that he was ducking out and if I valued the time that was still allotted me in my life, I would follow him.

  I laughed, was hushed by an anorexic-looking woman with dreadlocks, and, giggling, followed him up the darkened aisle and outside.

  Which brought me to this place. Not ready to end the evening, and unwilling to go home to an empty basement suite with Helen watching pay-per-view upstairs.

  “Sure. I can do coffee.”

  “Great.” He started up the truck and pulled out onto the quiet street. The first place we went to was closed.

  His truck's dashboard clock glowed 10:10. “I think we're too late for any establishment that doesn't serve alcohol.” Jack frowned, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “I forgot how late it was.” He sighed, then gave me a quick smile. “How about we just go for a drive? I can give you a resident's tour of Harland.”

  “Sure.” That sounded harmless enough.

  He took me past his old high school, shining his headlights on the football field. “Where I didn't play the game that didn't win the state pennant,” he said, sighing.

  “That's funny. I would have pictured you as a football star.”

  Jack shook his head. “Spent too much of my high school years reading. By the time I pulled my nose out of my books, prom was breathing down my neck, and all I could think of was how to work up the nerve to ask someone.” He reversed out of the school yard and continued the tour, turning down another road I was unfamiliar with.

  “Did you go?”

  “Yeah. Kathy's sister, Phyllis, took pity on me.”

/>   I laughed. “I doubt she accepted out of pity.”

  The lights of the dashboard cast a greenish glow on Jack's face. In the half-light, his eyes shone with a familiar glint. Interest. Expectations. Our banter was slowly shifting to flirtation. “I'll take it as a compliment,” he said.

  “Glad I could be of service to your self-esteem.”

  Jack pointed out a church building with a towering spire. “That's the Catholic church. Father Sam's old parish. He lives in that little house beside the priest's residence.”

  A light shone out from one of the upper rooms. I wondered if Father Sam was praying. And whom he was praying for.

  “How did he and your father meet?” I asked, curious about the relationship.

  “Father Sam had visited my mother when she was in the hospital. My dad connected with him there. In fact, Father Sam was with my mother when she died.”

  “What did she die from?”

  “Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.”

  This was one of those occasions when I wished I was better with words. Wished I could say the right thing. “Sorry to hear that” just didn't pay the bill.

  Yet I felt a curious kinship with him. Even though my mother was, to my knowledge, still alive, I'd lost her, too. “How old was she?”

  “Forty-three.” Jack shook his head. “Funny how that goes. Her death wasn't unexpected. We had lots of preparation. But still, when it came…” He gave a short laugh. The kind people give when they don't really know what else to say or do. “It's been over seventeen years, but I still miss her.” He looked at me. “Do you miss your mom?”

  “The last I heard from her was an e-mail she sent about six months ago from Yellowknife. That's in the Northwest Territories. Canada.”

  “So, not around the corner, then?”

  “Not even in the neighborhood.” I had told him what I needed to on our little trip to Leslie's place. More than that was just whining.

  Jack turned into a paved parking lot, and I was spared more rehashing of the family history.

  Large trees shadowed the empty park, edged by a waist-high hedge. During the day the trees would have offered welcoming shade. Now that night had slipped over the sky, they created an intimate atmosphere.

  A fountain gurgled from a small man-made lake in the middle of the park, the spray diffusing illumination from a spotlight.

  “Do you want to sit here a minute?” he asked.

  I hesitated. Sitting in the park with Jack, after dark. The equation was adding up to more than I might be ready for. But neither was I ready for the evening to end. So I nodded, got out of the truck, and walked to an empty bench.

  Jack was right behind me. He sat down, then leaned forward, man-style, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped between them.

  “I never knew about this park,” I said, leaning back against the rough wood of the bench, content, for now, to make simple conversation.

  “I used to come here with my friends after school and play baseball in that far diamond.” Jack pointed to an open space between the trees. I saw a backstop and some old bleachers in the reflected light from the fountain. “Used to play Little League.”

  “What position did you play?”

  “Shortstop, which, for me at that age, was sort of like rubbing my nose in it.” He gave me an apologetic glance. “I was vertically challenged for many of my formative years.”

  “You're not too short now.”

  “Thankfully, the formative years come to an end.”

  I hugged my knees to my chest. Jack sat back and stretched out his long legs in front of him, crossing his booted feet at the ankles. He folded his arms, the picture of a man content with his world.

  “So, what do you want to talk about now?”

  “We could discuss the difficulty of finding a radio station that plays your favorite songs,” Jack said quietly.

  “That's where an iPod comes in.”

  “Only if you care to figure out how to use it.”

  “It's not as complicated as building a house.” I felt myself relax. Ordinary conversation was my forte.

  “And how would you know?”

  “Between Google and Wikipedia, I know a bit about joists and headers.”

  Jack chuckled. “Don't trust everything you read on the Internet.”

  “You mean I can't get four million dollars if I give that nice Nigerian woman the number of my bank account?”

  “Nor will Bill Gates donate money every time you forward an e-mail.”

  “Rats. I sent it to my entire address book twenty-eight times.”

  Jack laughed, and a curious but comfortable silence enveloped us. He surprised me. The comfort level I felt around him surprised me even more.

  With Eric, I'd always felt like I was trying to prove myself. Trying to show I was worthy. With Jack, I knew I wasn't. He had seen me at my worst. I had nowhere to go in his estimation but up.

  What surprised me the most was that in spite of what he had seen, he still wanted to spend time with me.

  I heard the faint coo of a dove, followed by the trilling of a nighthawk. The night was coming alive, and I felt myself relax even more in this man's presence. This was a curious phenomenon for me. Relaxing around a guy.

  I could get used to this.

  “What did you think—” He held up his hand. “Sorry. That was going to be a dumb question.”

  “And that's a loaded statement. Now that you've admitted it, you have to ask it.”

  “No. I don't.”

  “You have to tell me because I'm going to keep nattering at you until you ask, and let me warn you—I'm a nattering nabob. A tsunami of talking. Leslie and I had a talking-without-stopping contest once. I wiped the floor with her. I can do the same with you. Of course there's no floor here, just dirt—and that could get messy. But I'm sure I can rise to the challenge…”

  He pressed a finger to my lips. “I concede.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him, my unspoken question.

  “I was just going to ask you what you thought of the church service. But we both know how that turned out.”

  I ducked my head, suddenly interested in my cuticles. I needed a manicure in the worst way. I couldn't remember the last manicure I'd had.

  “Like I said, dumb question.”

  I sighed, folded my arms on my knees, and leaned forward, staring into the gathering dusk. “No. It's not a dumb question. I felt kind of challenged. Kind of unworthy, I guess.”

  “None of us are, you know. Worthy.”

  “Not even you?”

  “Especially not me. The Bible tells us that no one is righteous, not one. I can't begin to presume that I'm exempt.”

  “Leslie gave me a Bible.” I opened my purse and pulled it out to show him. “She also gave me a little sermon about purpose and meaning.”

  “Have you had a chance to read this yet?” Jack took it from me and flipped it open.

  I shrugged. “It's small enough to pack around. I thought if I had some free time, I might read it. I kind of ran out of steam at Exodus—all that talk about the tabernacle and cubits and ephods and stuff.”

  “So you haven't had a chance to find a life verse yet?”

  “A life verse being?”

  “A passage of Scripture that speaks to you. That guides you in making a decision for Christ.”

  “For Christ and against whom?”

  Jack shot me a puzzled look.

  “If I make a decision for someone, doesn't that automatically mean I'm against someone else? Like in hockey or football?”

  “No. Sorry. Christian lingo. I'm not very good at this.”

  “That's exactly what Leslie said,” I replied. I watched as he leafed through the Bible, watched his expression soften into a smile as he read. “Why don't you read me your life verse?”

  “I was teasing you,” Jack said, his eyes flitting over the tiny type. “When I went to Bible camp, we were always encouraged to find our life verse. I was a bit of a rebel and us
ed some obscure verse from Deuteronomy. Something about… the western border was the Jordan in the Arabah, from Kinnereth to the Sea of the Arabah… The joke backfired on me.”

  “How so?”

  “They made me write out every verse I could find that dealt with geography. Kept me busy every night for the rest of camp.” Jack laughed. “God tamed my rebellious streak through that, and as a result I did find one of my favorites.” He shot me a quick glance. “You want me to read it?”

  I'd been on many dates and gone to many places, but I didn't remember ever having a man read the Bible to me before. Of course, Jack wasn't the kind of guy I usually dated, so the lack of precedent was understandable. “Go crazy.”

  “‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.’” Jack's deep, rough voice lent an air of gritty reality to the words, and I found myself jealous of the certainty of his faith. Jealous of the conviction that rang in his voice as he read. “I get a lot of comfort from that.”

  There was that word again. Comfort.

  I thought of the stillness that seeped into my soul when Leslie talked about God. Here in this park, with Jack reading a passage that spoke of power and strength, I yearned to experience the same thing again. My mind cast back to the empty moments after coming home from the hospital. The inexplicable yearning for comfort, for a reason. For some kind of meaning to an existence that had slowly spiraled out of control.

  You'll get it back. You just need to get jour feet under you.

  And when would that happen?

  “Anyway, that verse really speaks to me,” Jack was saying. He handed the Bible back to me.

  I took it, ran my fingers over the embossing on the cover, and slipped it back into my purse. “I guess this is why I don't feel like I need to go to church,” I said. “Your dad told me I was like a lost sheep, and Leslie said that she has found purpose in her life.” I tried to force a light laugh, tried to find the old Terra. “I've had a lot of religion since I came here.”

  “Then I'll back off.” He folded his arms over his chest again, looking out over the park. “So, now that you're a free woman, what are your plans?”