The Winding Road Home

by Sally John

  Jesus, I don’t have a choice. Is that it? I have to trust that You’re in this.

  Adele tugged on his sleeve, pulling him to sit down. When he settled next to her on the pew, she slid her hand into his. Status quo meant they still held hands while he averted his eyes from her lips. For how long this could go on, he didn’t know.

  But then I really don’t know much.

  She was incredibly naïve. He kept looking for cracks in it, for a glimmer of falsehood, of distrust, of evidence that she believed the world owed her one. He couldn’t find any of that, increasing his desire to protect her. The discombobulating thing of it all was that he knew the source of her danger: It lay in Graham Logan.

  He paid the service only partial attention. What might appear as distraction to Adele was simply him praying unceasingly for forgiveness.

  After the service, as they greeted others in the crowded foyer, a woman caught Adele by the arm. Adele introduced her as Lia Huntington. A moment later the women were head-to-head and Graham was catching a nod from Cal, who stood near the front door. Two minutes later they were in the parking lot, enjoying a breath of air laced with an early hint of spring.

  “Graham.” Cal wasn’t smiling. “I was hoping you might fill me in. Save me a lot of time from trying to figure out why the dean of Northwestern’s history department has never heard of you or Lawrence Neuman. Or how, as of late last night, your name appears on their Website’s faculty list. Or where you got the strings to pull that off.”

  “You work fast, Officer.”

  His face went rigid.

  Of all the schools in Illinois, I pick Northwestern, which just happens to have connections in Valley Oaks? God must be in it. There must be a reason for this conversation. Perhaps for the simple fact that he was growing weary of carrying the secret alone.

  “All right.” Graham smiled. “I appreciate you not bringing this up in front of Adele. Do you mind uncrossing your arms? Maybe smile a little, like we’re anticipating the Bulls game today? It’s a long story.”

  He didn’t budge. “Give me the short version.”

  “My name is Graham Logan. But I’m not from Chicago, nor am I a professor at Northwestern or anywhere. Five years ago my wife was killed, an act of revenge against me.”

  The face behind the beard softened. Graham knew the information he was about to divulge would go no further until it was time.

  Kate heard a commotion in the other room, but she couldn’t pinpoint its source. She was lying on the couch in her sitting room, wrapped like a cocoon in a comforter, keeping her head as motionless as possible. Old-fashioned heavy draperies were drawn across two windows, shutting out bright afternoon sunlight.

  The pain and nausea had started last night as she ran home from Tanner’s place, her head along with every muscle and joint feeling as though she’d been hit by a Mack truck. It wasn’t from a truck or the flu. She knew it was her mind and body shutting down, a defense mechanism keeping her from having to deal with the full force of reality.

  She slept as if anesthetized, another nifty defense mechanism that didn’t leave her in the least bit rested. The dizzying head pain and nausea were there when she awoke along with a bone-deep chill. Awhile ago she had attempted going to the kitchen, dragging the comforter from her bed behind her, but she had made it only as far as the couch.

  It didn’t matter. She would deal with life later. Her emotional turmoil would dissipate. She would seek God’s perspective and try to accept it little by little. For now she simply wanted life to go away.

  She heard the swoosh of the wooden door sliding into its pocket between the walls.

  “Kate?” It was Adele’s voice coming from a great distance.

  She didn’t respond, a combination of not wanting to and being unable to.

  Muffled voices. The door swooshing again, clicking shut.

  “Hey. Are you in there?”

  Tanner? No, not Tanner! He complicated things to no end.

  She felt the comforter lift from her face. She opened the one eye not scrunched against the pillow.

  Oh, no! Despite the fact her glasses lay in the other room, she saw it. He’s still cute.

  “Hi.” He was eye level with her, from a sitting position on the floor beside the couch. “Missed you at church. Yeah, I went. I even went in and sat down after Adele said you were home sick.”

  She blinked her one eye.

  “Flu?”

  “It’s contagious,” she mumbled.

  He smiled. “I doubt that.”

  He knew.

  “Kate, I brought over your new toy. I thought you might want to play with it.”

  Her eye filled. “I’m dizzy,” she whispered. “I can’t see straight. My stomach hurts so bad.”

  “I can fix that.” He disappeared from her limited view.

  The door swooshed open, slamming against the far end of its space. “Oops. Sorry.”

  She winced.

  The tear dribbled from the inner corner of her eye, slid sideways across her nose, and dove onto the pillow. She had experienced such vertigo and nausea only three times in her life. Once when she first learned of her mother’s illness. Once when mononucleosis postponed a college term. Once when she lost a chance at a summer job in a Springfield legislator’s office.

  All unintended turns in the road, twisting the straight way into a labyrinth. God surprising her. God testing her. Refining His gold.

  The door swooshed shut, clicked into place.

  She heard Tanner moving about, and then she felt his arms grasp the blanket around her legs. He pulled, inching her along the couch.

  “Ow!”

  “Sorry.” He tucked the pillow back under her head and disappeared again. “Adele gave me this. Here’s an outlet. Okay.” He came back into her line of vision and held out an electric heating pad. “Here.”

  Something like a whimper sounded in her throat.

  “Now, now, Katelyn, don’t be a baby. It’ll help.”

  She reached out from under the cover, took the pad from him, and pulled it back underneath with her hand. Doubting its effectiveness, she pressed it against her stomach.

  Tanner sat down on the couch beside the pillow, at her head. He placed a hand on her cheek, turning her head until both eyes faced upward. His palm was rested lightly against her cheek, his fingertips stroking her temple.

  “It’s a good thing you don’t get angry too often if this is what happens.”

  It hurt to talk, but she had to explain. “I’m not mad at Rusty.”

  “I didn’t think you were. I’m sure you’re mad at the situation. Understandable.”

  “I’m upset with God.”

  “Whoa. What does He have to say about that?”

  “He forgives me. He loves me.”

  He smiled. “He is one quirky God, and you are one quirky redhead. And you’re both growing on me. Kind of like mold.”

  She giggled.

  “Mind if I watch the game? I’ll keep the volume low.”

  She closed her eyes and whispered, “No.”

  At the moment she wouldn’t mind anything…except Tanner Carlucci taking his hand from her cheek. She fell fast asleep.

  The Bulls still trailed in the third quarter and Kate still slept. She hadn’t budged when Adele came in and offered Tanner tea. At halftime, when he went to the kitchen to make coffee, she merely rolled onto her back and snuggled more deeply under the blanket.

  He had never seen her without the tortoiseshell glasses sliding down the bridge of her perky little nose. He had never seen her so inert before either. The bundle of energy was revealing a different side altogether.

  “Hey.”

  He looked down and saw her eyes open wider than their previous slits. “Hey, yourself,” he said. “I was just thinking how watching the game with you is like watching with the guys. You don’t interrupt with unnecessary chatter.”

  She smiled crookedly. “This is necessary. I’ve been awake for a while, biting my ton
gue, but you look like you’re going to burst a blood vessel. I only interrupted to say don’t hold back on my account.”

  He turned back to the television, pointing the remote and notching up the volume. “It’s only a game.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He sensed her move from the couch and leave the room. Twenty minutes later in TV basketball time, after seriously, loudly questioning the referee’s last call, he lowered the volume and looked up.

  Kate was setting a tray on the coffee table. It overflowed with sandwiches, potato chips, sodas, carrots, celery, and cookies. She sat on the floor near it and crossed her legs. “Hungry?”

  “Thanks.” He joined her, resting his back against the couch and accepting the plate she offered. “This looks great. I take it you’re hungry, which means you must be feeling better?”

  “I am. Thanks.” She moved in a stiff-necked way, though, as if she still hurt. Her glasses were in place, and she wore gray sweats and fuzzy slippers. Her hair was brushed, but not pulled back in its usual manner.

  They ate in silence for a few moments.

  “Tanner, thank you for sitting with me, but you shouldn’t have. You have so many things to do.”

  “I wanted to. Besides, Sunday is a day of rest. I like that idea.”

  “And which one don’t you like?”

  He chewed slowly, wondering how to phrase it. “The pastor talked about forgiveness today. He gave real-life examples of people forgiving others who had committed the most heinous crimes against them.” Tanner took another bite.

  She waited, tearing bits from her sandwich, not eating, watching him.

  Something about those green eyes that never condemned pulled it from him. “My dad. Not exactly heinous, but I can’t. No way. Never in a million years.”

  “What did he do?”

  “The usual. Left my mother and us three kids for another woman when I was thirteen. Until that day, I didn’t have a clue there was a problem. I mean, he wasn’t around as much as some of the other dads. He never had time to coach, but he always came to my games. He always took us on vacation.” Tanner continued eating.

  “What happened after he left?”

  “We scarcely heard a word from him, but we never needed anything that money could buy. No sirree.” Tanner heard the bitterness in his tone. “He stood by us financially. He was always buying us expensive things and depositing chunks of money in our bank accounts. Still does. Such a hokey way to make up for his absence. Anyway, the fallout was typical. By the time I was sixteen, I only stayed sober during basketball season.”

  Kate wiped an eye with her napkin. “I’m sorry.”

  “Obviously I’m still angry. And I don’t see a reason to forgive him.”

  “Does your anger hurt him?”

  “I doubt it, but I get this morbid satisfaction from knowing he knows I’m mad. That he can’t point to me proudly and refer to our idyllic father-son relationship. He’s got a three-year-old son now. Maybe he’ll get it with him.”

  “I can’t imagine how that must hurt you.” Her voice was on the verge of tears.

  He shrugged it off, the innate macho response ripping a hole somewhere deep inside of him.

  “My dad was the complete opposite. He’s always been so loving and kind, not that he let us get away with anything.”

  All of those characteristics had been evident after one meeting with Dan Kilpatrick.

  “I think because of that, I found it easy to trust in God’s love for me. Tanner, He loves you too.”

  “But you’re upset with Him.”

  “I also get upset with my dad when I don’t understand why he does something. Like why when I was little he yelled at me not to cross the street and I watched a truck smash my ball. It’s nothing like being abandoned by a father, like you’ve been.”

  Time to change the subject. “Why does Rusty’s decision bother you so much? I don’t think you’re afraid of the challenge or the extra work.”

  “No.” She set her jaw, her forehead furrowed.

  “Your headache’s going to come back if you keep doing that with your face.”

  “I don’t know what God’s doing. Is He taking away DC?” She rubbed her forehead. “Why would He do that?”

  “Kate, this won’t keep you from DC. The job is temporary. You don’t have to stay in Valley Oaks.”

  “Maybe I do. Maybe He’s crushing my dream.”

  “Has He done that before?”

  “No. The changes were always obvious choices.”

  “And they only postponed college, which you’re about to graduate from. That was the dream, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think He’s telling you not to cross the street?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “So you’re afraid of the unknown future. That doesn’t sound very trusting.”

  She lowered her eyes. “It’s not. It’s not typical of me.”

  “Is there something else going on?”

  She lifted a shoulder.

  “Maybe it’s a little of that Magic Kingdom getting under your skin.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Somebody read from the Bible today. I remember it was about not being anxious for tomorrow. Kate, I know life has to be lived one day at a time.”

  At last she looked up. “Tanner, you sound like a believer.”

  “I told you. We’ve been on speaking terms for a long time. Just not on a first-name basis.”

  “I’m praying you’ll meet.”

  “I know you are.” He held her eyes for a long moment, and then he stood. “I’d better go. I’ve been invading your space long enough.”

  “Thank you for the laptop. And keeping me company.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A minute later he was on the sidewalk, heading under the stars toward his apartment. It wasn’t how he wanted to end the evening, but the atmosphere was growing too heavy.

  He would have preferred sitting beside her again. Perhaps holding her. Perhaps telling her he was praying that God would keep her in Valley Oaks.

  Twenty-Four

  Kate sat on a stool in the video store, her laptop computer on the counter, her fingers clicking away at the keyboard. She glanced over at Tanner, who was sorting through the store’s collection of video tapes and DVDs in the small glassed-in office.

  “Tanner, what was that play at the end of the game when the center caught the pass from the forward and then popped it back out to the guard who scored?” She paused in her typing.

  “They did that? Wow, you’re good. I missed it.”

  “You were supposed to be my extra pair of eyes, Mr. Athlete.”

  “You’re doing fine on your own. Thinking you needed help was just a case of first-night jitters.”

  Continuing with her writing, she muttered to herself, “And tomorrow will be first-day jitters of figuring out what to write. Tomorrow night will be first-night jitters with a county board meeting. Wednesday will be first-day jitters with a deadline.”

  “What?” He stuck his head through the doorway.

  “Nothing. Have I mentioned how slick this machine is?”

  He smiled and ducked back into the office.

  Still cute.

  Half an hour later they had both finished their work.

  Kate asked, “Can I sweep for you? Or scrub the front of this counter?”

  “No, thanks. After working in here all day, I’m calling it a night. Unlike someone who slept all yesterday, I’m bushed.” He sat on the other stool across the counter. “But tell me how the meeting went today.”

  Though she had seen him at the game earlier and asked for his help on writing the article, they hadn’t had a chance yet to talk.

  She closed up the computer. “Fred said he’d pay me Rusty’s salary, which was more than I expected. He said he’s already posted an ad on the Web and in the Rockville paper. The first Times ad will go in this week. He said I’m free to leave on the date initially set.”
She shrugged. “But what’s he going to say? He needs me right now.”

  Tanner reached across and tapped the tip of her nose.

  “What?”

  “No more negative talk like that. Understood?”

  “Fred was so kind. I think he’d take care of the entire paper by himself if I wanted to leave next week. And I saw my first daffodil of the season.”

  “Much better. Hey, no kidding? About the daffodil?”

  “No kidding. The groundhog was wrong. Spring is coming ahead of schedule.”

  He gave her a thumbs-up. “I’ll vote for that.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Rusty’s farewell.”

  “I have too, but I didn’t know if you were ready to discuss it yet.”

  “We made up today. She was being so nice it was weird. I told her I wasn’t mad at her. After that she was normal.”

  Tanner laughed. “How about we take her to dinner Wednesday night? There’s this place she especially likes in Rockville.”

  “I think she’d like that. She’s not exactly the party type, is she?”

  “No. Will you ask her tomorrow? I’m flying to St. Louis for the day and won’t be back until late.”

  “Sure. Speaking of parties, I think you should send out invitations for your grand opening. My family would love to come. You can invite your family.”

  “My parents never show up at the same place.”

  “Give them different times. One afternoon, one evening.” She reopened the laptop. “I’ve got a file going on it. I can take care of balloons and cake for you. I also think a bell above the door would be a good idea.”

  “Here.” He reached under the counter, pulled out a key ring and slid it across the counter. “Those are for you.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Keys for the store?”

  “You can come and do whatever you think is necessary whenever you want.” He flipped through the keys. “This is for the front door, the back door, and the apartment.”