Coming Undone

by Stallings, Staci

  Not sure if it was because of where they were or the context of the situation or just that she wasn’t at all sure what to make of any of it, Kathryn exhaled hard and looked at her watch. “Wow. We’d probably better go. I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He moved to stand but slowly, and he hadn’t quit looking at her either. “I’m sure you’re ready to get on home.”

  She tried not to think about the loneliness of home. “Yeah.”

  They walked slowly side-by-side back to the room. Ben had his hand in his pocket lest it betray him and reach out to her. Yes, some of it was the kindness she had displayed to him and his family over the past couple of days, but it was more than that. At least one part of him said it was more. Then again, things were so very off-kilter, he couldn’t be sure of anything at the moment.

  “I can’t believe it’s still raining,” Kathryn said as they walked down the long hallway, and he felt her voice in his heart. “I was hoping they were kidding about this lasting.”

  She still seemed so quiet and sad. Ben wanted to do something to change that, but when he opened the hospice door, he realized how few options he had in that regard. In minutes she would be gone. Nothing in him wanted to let her go.

  “So Jason’s wife is coming.”

  He didn’t like how she could sound so very proper like that. It reminded him in colors far too vivid that she was just doing her job. Worse, she seemed to have gremlins telling her all of his secrets. That scared him far more than he wanted to admit. He realized that the two issues were on opposite sides of the spectrum, and he couldn’t logically fault her for both, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to stop his spirit from analyzing and re-analyzing everything she said either.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He knew he didn’t sound overly happy about that. The truth was he was almost to the point of not being able to feel anything that made any sense.

  “You’ve never met her then?” Each word was slower and more drawn out so that they hardly seemed connected.

  “No.” At the door, he opened it and pushed it for her to enter. When she past in front of him, he knew he needed to break this attraction. It was getting harder to ignore.

  In the room he focused only on her moving before him as he put both hands in his pockets. Beautiful. She was so very beautiful. And now, she was by the chair, picking up her things. Leaving. She was leaving. His breath lodged in the top of his chest and refused to move from that spot. It scrambled the thoughts in his head, making them completely unintelligible.

  “Um, you know.” He scratched his head, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he suddenly felt. “Father Patrick left us this little booklet thing about the… service.” Lands, what was he doing? He should let her go. That was best for both of them. Still his spirit was flying forward with a crazy recklessness he couldn’t quite take hold of.

  When she turned to face him, logic scattered in all directions. The little light behind her made the strands of her soft blonde hair look like they were glowing.

  “Um, I don’t really know much about these things. I’m just… I mean I know you need to get home and everything.” Like a pinball spiraling around, he reached up and slid his hand over his hair as his feet shifted. Then with great effort, he corralled his ricocheting spirit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…”

  “No.” She was looking at him with pity in her eyes, but now he was just absurdly grateful she was looking at him at all. “Don’t apologize. I know how difficult these things can be.”

  “I… I would ask Jason, but he’s kind of…”

  “Not sure about the Catholic thing?”

  His nerves began to relax. “So you noticed that too, huh?”

  “Would’ve been hard not to.” Kathryn laid her things to the side of the chair, and for the moment he could breathe again.

  However, concern that someone close to him had made her feel uncomfortable surged on him. “Did he… Did he say something?”

  She straightened, and her hand pulled down her blouse to straighten it as well. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. It’s all right. Really. I’m used to it. You would be surprised how many people think Catholics aren’t Christian or are some kind of a cult, and all kinds of weird stuff I won’t even go into.”

  “Like what?” Now that she wasn’t leaving, Ben stepped to the couch, perfectly happy to discuss anything—even if it had nothing to do with his excuse for asking her to stay. When he turned and sat, he watched as she took her seat in the chair. She seemed hesitant, but he was so thankful she had agreed to stay that he chose not to dwell on that.

  “Well, I’ve had people tell me to my face that I’m going to hell for being Catholic.”

  That pushed him back. Who would do something like that? “You’re kidding.”

  “Oh, no I’m not. But it’s okay. They don’t get a vote anyway.”

  He didn’t understand. “A vote?”

  Her smile lit a warmth deep in him that he didn’t understand except he could feel it in her eyes. “I learned a long time ago that only two people get a vote on if I’m okay or not. Me and God, and even my vote doesn’t count.”

  The deep joy with which she said it drew him even closer to her. He wanted to understand even if he could never have that for himself. “Yours doesn’t count?”

  Resolutely but with a smile, she shook her head. “My grandma used to tell me that God loves me, and He’s the only one that gets a vote—not even my vote counts, so I should stop being so darn hard on myself.”

  “So that’s where the be gentle with yourself thing came from?”

  Sadness poured into her eyes and over her face. “Pretty much. It’s good to remember when people try to run you down.”

  He couldn’t stop the awe. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  She laughed outright. “Where did that come from?”

  But he was not to be deterred. “Why? You don’t think so?”

  Her gaze fell to her hands. “Hardly.” She looked up and scratched her nose. “But thank you for saying it.” Then her gaze slipped around the room. “Hm. You were saying something about the service readings?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Honestly, he wanted to continue the current conversation, but he didn’t know how. So instead, he reached over to the little table and picked up the booklet that Jason had laid there. He swept it forward, dragging the envelope underneath it right off the table. It floated to the ground just in front of her feet, and Ben froze at the sight.

  “Oh!” Kathryn bent to retrieve the vile thing from the floor.

  His heart jerked hard with the vision of her picking it up. The last thing he wanted was for her to know about that thing. “I’m sorry. I forgot that was there.” Nervousness jolted through him as he reached for it. When it was back in his hands, he just wanted to get rid of it, but his mind wasn’t working nearly as efficiently as the rest of him. Where to put it? On the table? In his pocket? In the trash? “Um.”

  Swallowing, he finally replaced it on the table, shifted on the couch, exhaling slowly and knowing no way to explain it, he paged through the little book. His gaze stayed down though he didn’t even focus on the little pages. He wouldn’t look up, he couldn’t. He didn’t need to see what was in her eyes to feel her thoughts. “I think Jason said he had the readings, and Father knows the Gospel. It’s one Dad picked out. I’m supposed to figure out the Proverb or something like that.”

  “Psalm. I bet it’s the Psalm.” Without questioning, she put her hand out for the book, and when he glanced up to transfer it, he came face-to-face with the softest kindness he’d ever seen.

  Fighting not to fumble the transfer, he handed her the little book. And then, although he knew he should find something else to focus on, he couldn’t take his gaze from her. She was fascinating, amazing, quiet, calm. All the things he wasn’t. His spirit jangled at that thought.

  “My favorite has always been Psalm 23.” She paged through the book, sat back, and shook her hair out. �
�The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.” She continued reading, but he no longer heard the words only felt the impression that they created in his soul. It was like floating on a feather buoyed on a gentle breeze. He leaned back, crossed his fingers in front of him, and just let the words and her voice brush over him. A moment and he closed his eyes. Sleep was a real possibility, not because he was tired but because everything in him suddenly relaxed.

  “Only goodness and kindness follow me all the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.”

  The words stopped, and Ben nodded. “I like that.”

  “It’s the one they read at my grandma’s funeral, and I’ve never forgotten it.”

  He opened his eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel that something had changed between them. Had she been anyone else, had they been anywhere else, he would easily have leaned over to her, kissed her, and taken her into his arms. However, the barriers between them were too obvious, so he stayed were he was and let only his mind play out the fantasy.

  “What?” she finally asked, her face falling with concern.

  Nothing in him could tear his gaze from her. “How do you do that?”

  Reaching up with the hand not cradling the little book, she slipped her finger under her hair and tugged on it. He loved everything about every motion she made. Although he blinked to get the feelings and thoughts back to reality, they didn’t leave. Slowly he pulled forward, and when he got to the point that his elbows were on his knees, it was like trying to stop a thousand horses as he held himself back from her. The way she was looking at him, the dim light, the connection he felt with her but couldn’t even come close to explaining.

  Her gaze snapped from his and fell. “I… I should go.” She stood even as she laid the little book on the table.

  His heart leading the way, Ben followed her up as he reached out to stop her. “Please don’t.” His hand connected with hers between them, and the electricity of that touch was like lightning flashing through his soul. Every nerve stood on end as he found himself only a foot from her. She was shorter than he remembered, smaller. Somehow he got himself to let her hand go, but his heart would not let him let her go as easily as he looked down at her. “Please.”

  It sounded so selfish, so pathetic, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want her to leave, not now, not ever. “I don’t…” Closing his eyes, he fought to breathe. “I don’t want to be here… alone.”

  Kathryn fought the tears that welled up in her heart. She didn’t want to leave him like this, but how could she stay when what she was feeling was so very improper? How could she stay professional when every look he gave her whispered words to her soul that she’d never heard before? How could she get herself to remember he was a client when he felt like so very much more?

  God, please help me. I don’t know what to do.

  “I know I have no right to ask this,” Ben said, his voice husky and strained, “you’ve already done so much, but I just… I don’t want to be here by myself. Please stay.”

  If she could just get all right with leaving him… Kathryn wanted to growl her frustration at him, but that wasn’t fair. He was vulnerable and frightened. It was her job to make this passage as smooth as she could. Okay, God. I’ll stay, but You’re going to have to do this one because I really can’t.

  Amazingly she didn’t fall apart when she looked up at him. “Okay. I’ll stay, but only for awhile.”

  He should have felt relief, but the panic in his soul that she might leave at all gripped him. Still, he nodded, glad for the momentary reprieve. “Thanks.”

  Backing away from him, Kathryn smoothed her skirt under her as she sat. Her gaze slipped over to the little table, and his followed. Terror seized his heart. No! Please. Please don’t ask. Please.

  She reached over and picked the envelope up. “Is this from Father Patrick?”

  Ben collapsed back on the couch, wishing he had just let her leave. “No.” The word was soft and ragged. “It’s from my dad.”

  Her fingers ran back and forth softly across the lettering on the front. Ben Warren in his father’s script. Ben read it even from his vantage point, and he turned his head to not see it. She didn’t say anything for a long moment. One part of him thought she might just leave well enough alone. Then her gaze came over to him.

  “Are you going to read it?”

  He shrugged as if it hardly mattered. “I don’t know. I think Jason read his, but…” His gaze drifted back to the letter now resting on her knees.

  The moment hung in the room until the soft patter of the rain outside invaded the stillness.

  “I don’t know what there would be to say,” Ben finally continued as defensiveness surging through his spirit. “I mean we know where the will is.”

  She was looking at him now, not arguing, just listening.

  “What could he have to say to me that I don’t already know?” Then as weird as it felt, he looked to her for confirmation. When she said nothing, anger smacked into him. “You think I should open it.”

  “I think you should when you’re ready.”

  Frustration ground out of him, and he stood. “When I’m ready? What does that mean anyway?” He stepped toward the wall as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What is that, some kind of riddle? What if I’m never ready?”

  He heard her stand, felt her coming closer, but she stopped a couple feet from him and came no closer.

  “Letting someone go is the hardest thing you will ever do,” she said softly. “It’s not for anyone else to judge or to tell you when or how to do it.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” The words knifed him on their way out, and he slammed his eyes closed at the sheering pain they ripped up. “What if I can’t?” His breaths gasped from him, raking up tears, and he couldn’t stop any of them.

  “Ben.” Her gentle touch on his shoulder tore the last of sanity from him. Whether it was fair to her or not escaped from his consciousness. When he turned to her, there was no hesitation at all. Her arms came around him, and he grabbed onto her, gripping her, praying she would never again let him go.

  “I hate this.” The words clawed their way out of his heart. “I can’t do it. I can’t let him go.” Tears blurred the rest of the world from his understanding. They pulled up fistfuls of pain from the center of him, and he had no power to stop them. “I don’t want him to die. I know he’s so sick, but I just can’t let him go. I can’t do it. I don’t know how.”

  Every piece of everything he’d shoved down inside him started bubbling to the surface. “What am I going to do without him?”

  Kathryn held him as the grief tore free and whipped through his battered, exhausted soul. She had been there. She understood what that grief could do to a soul that had loved so much and still did. Death was the cruelest of separations, especially if you didn’t believe in a reunion in eternity. “Your dad knows, Ben. He knows you haven’t let him go. That’s why he’s still here.”

  There were times she said things that there was no logical explanation as to how she knew them, but she did just the same because the Spirit said it through her. This was one of those times. She felt it. “He loves you, and he knows how hard this is for you. He doesn’t want to go until he knows you’re okay with it.”

  Next to her shoulder, Ben shook his head. “I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to ever be okay with it.” He sounded so very tired, so very sad.

  Although she didn’t let him go, she backed up an inch. “Have you seen him?”

  “Seen him?” Ben relaxed his grip and swiped at his eyes, feeling like an idiot for losing it so completely in front of her. “Of course I’ve seen him. He’s right over there.” But everything in him was backing up, away from the figure in that bed and what she might be asking. He didn’t want to go over there. He didn’t want to see. He was already far too close. Going over there would somehow make it real. There was no conceivable way he could do that.


  Kathryn’s hand was still on his back, rubbing there, and he could feel that she knew. “You don’t have to if you don’t want,” she said, her voice softening even more. “I know how scary it can be, but he wants to say good-bye. He wants you to know how much he loves you even now.”

  With tears and short, hard breaths, Ben looked at her. “Why does this have to be so hard?”

  “Because you love him so much.” She sniffed, but her face was lit in a soft illumination that looked every bit angelic. “That’s not a bad thing, Ben. It just means you love him a lot.”

  “It hurts.”

  “I know.” Her face crumpled momentarily. “I know.”

  He let out a hard, angry breath. “Why does this have to be so hard? I just want it to not be so hard.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to make it not be hard. It just is. It will be. But you can do it anyway. You can love him enough to do it even if it’s hard.” Her face furrowed farther, and tears slid down her cheeks. She didn’t brush them back nor even seem to notice them, but he did. Those were not fake tears. They were not manufactured. They were as real as his own.

  Gently Ben reached over and cupped her face with his hand. His fingers twisted into her hair. Very slowly his thumb moved up to her cheek and brushed a tear away. She laid her head into his strength. It felt good to feel her trust. When her gaze came up to his, she smiled.

  “It really will be okay,” she assured him. “This is just a step in God’s plan. It’s a step. It’s not the end.”

  Never would Ben have thought he could even think about doing this, but suddenly the fear slipped away from him, swept aside by the gentle brush of an angel wing. A moment to gather the strength in her eyes and he nodded. “I think it’s time.”

  Kathryn nodded with a sad, compassionate smile. “Okay.” Carefully, gently, she turned and reaching between them, she laced her fingers through his. It wasn’t fair what that did to him. His heart dropped through his shoes, and his breaths swirled in his brain. And then she was moving and somehow he was following. A step at a time, she led him toward the bed, looking back every other step to see how he was doing. Had she pushed, he would no doubt have resisted with everything in him. Yet her gaze was far more an invitation than a coercion. There was no pressure at all, and as such, he would surely have followed her anywhere.