Coming Undone

by Stallings, Staci

  Tears overran their banks and ache cascaded through him as he let himself be really held for the first time in a long, long time. The signals in him were firing from his emotions rather than his brain, and he reached up and anchored his arm over hers, holding on lest he fall right into the pain and never make it back out again.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered again and again, holding him to her. “They didn’t know. They didn’t know what this would do to you.”

  Anger split right through him. “Or they didn’t care.”

  She didn’t even move to contradict him.

  “You know what really fries me?” he asked, yanking himself back and swiping at his eyes, furious with himself for being so weak. “That Dad knew where Jason was, and he didn’t tell me. Not even a hint. I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me.”

  Kathryn’s hand now rested on his arm, like a butterfly announcing spring. “Maybe he didn’t want to see you hurt again. Maybe he was waiting for the right time. Ben, there could be a hundred-thousand reasons or there could be none. The truth is, we’re all doing the best we can. Your dad loved you. That much I’m sure. He loved you, and whatever the reason he kept this from you, to him, he was doing it out of love. Now you can second-guess him now, and you can even be angry, but the truth is, he did not do this to hurt you and you know it.”

  Everything in him wanted to lash out at her, to say she had no idea and what right did she have to make any judgments one way or the other, but the truth was, at that moment, he believed in her love for him more than he had ever believed in any other single thing. She wasn’t saying this to hurt him. She was saying it out of love, just like she’d done every other thing since they had met.

  Somehow that understanding drifted into him and settled everything else in his heart. As his gaze came back up to hers, he knew that life would never again be the same without her. He let out a breath, trying to talk himself out of saying it, but it wasn’t leaving. “Listen, this is going to sound… I don’t know… nuts or something, but…” He put his head down. He couldn’t watch her reject him too. “Monday, at the funeral…” Reaching up, he scratched his head. “…will you…” The breath snagged on the words. “… will you sit by me?”

  Shock overtook her in one split-second, but she beat that back when he looked right at her. Expectant and hopeful, his gaze grabbed hers, and although all training and professionalism said she should find a graceful way to say no, Kathryn couldn’t do that to him. Not after everyone else had abandoned him. Not after she had sworn to see him through this horrible time. It went against every wall she’d ever put up to protect herself from getting hurt doing this job, and she was most assured that her heart would get completely smashed, but she would never be able to live with herself if she said no. So she let her smile escape from her heart as she nodded. “Sure.”

  Chapter 16

  The guy had sat in front of Kathryn at church again on Sunday, but she hardly noticed. She was too concerned with praying about the coming day. In fact, by Monday morning, she was sure God was tired of hearing from her.

  “Mrs. Davis passed away over the weekend,” Misty said, handing Kathryn a stack of files that Yvonne had left to be processed. “That was short and sweet.”

  “Sometimes…” But Kathryn couldn’t finish that sentence. She looked over the files in her hands, counting the hours of work they represented. “I’m leaving about 9:15 for the Warren funeral.”

  “Oh.” Misty deflated. “How are they doing?”

  “Holding up.”

  Misty nodded and then straightened with a look of near excitement. “Oh, hey. I never got to ask, how was the date?”

  The date. It felt like centuries had passed since then. Kathryn looked up and smiled on cue. “Oh, good.”

  “Good? Just good? Come on. I need details.”

  But Kathryn laid her hand on the files. “And I need to get to work.” She turned and started down the hallway.

  “You’re no fun,” Misty called, leaning over the counter.

  Kathryn only put her hand in the air to wave at her friend. She had been sincerely hoping that Misty would have a short or better yet non-existent memory. What was there to say about that date that wasn’t borderline awful? She escaped into her office just as her cell phone beeped. In one click she had it up to her ear. “Kathryn Walker, St. Anthony’s Hospice.” It was then that she realized she hadn’t even forwarded the calls yet.

  “Well, hello, there, Kathryn Walker from St. Anthony’s.”

  She smiled at the voice. “Hello to you too. How are you? I’ve been wondering how you’re doing.”

  “Tell me you’re coming, and I’ll be better.”

  Sitting down in her chair, she spun slowly away from the door. “What time do I need to be there?”

  “Well, we’re following from the funeral home in about thirty minutes or so, so I’m guessing we’ll be at the church about 9:30.”

  She nodded the information in. “Then 9:30 it is.”

  Ben was having a fight with his stomach. It just wouldn’t settle down. That’s why he had called her, hoping that would help, and it had, just not totally. At the steps to the large, imposing church, he stepped out of the limousine and helped Holly and then Ryley out. Jason was last, and they shook hands.

  Kelly came in the car behind with the other pallbearers who hustled up to the big black hearse in front of them all. Cars lined every highway, driveway, byway, and street. Completely unbelievably there were more people today than at the wake service. Ben breathed that in along with the trepidation. He’d never really thought forward in his life to this moment. To the strange question of how many people would show up for his funeral. Would Kelly come? Tamitha? Maybe Jason and Holly if they even kept in touch after this weekend. It was odd thinking about it, but that didn’t stop the thought from going through his head.

  The pallbearers extracted the solid oak coffin and began their slow, unsteady walk up the steps of the church. It hardly looked easy. Still, Ben thought his position was even harder. He surveyed the gathering crowd around the steps of St. Jude’s Catholic Church, but he didn’t see her. His heart fell. Maybe she hadn’t been able to get away after all. Maybe she got stuck in traffic.

  Head down, heart tightly clenched lest it completely fall apart, he followed the little procession up the steps. Somehow he had learned some responsibility somewhere along the way as he herded his family—Jason, Holly, and Ryley—through the doors, holding it for them. Then it was his turn to enter. His heart fell further as the overwhelming feeling of wanting to run overtook him. He swallowed it back, but it choked him. How was he ever going to do this alone? He ducked into the cool, darkness beyond the door, praying that somehow he would make it through this even though his strength and willpower had somehow slipped away from him. Reaching up, he raked his fingers through his hair, knowing that would do no good but hoping it would anyway.

  It was only when his hand came back down to his side that movement from the side of the entrance snagged his attention. He turned to it, and his smile came right through the surging ache. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, she stepped up next to him and put her hands up to his face. His hands were on her waist before he realized they were moving. The greeting lasted only a second and there were no words that accompanied it, but he felt it all the way through him.

  Then she turned at his side, and his hand joined hers.

  Kathryn tried not to think about who was saying and thinking what as she walked down the aisle with Ben in full view of all those already gathered. But she felt all of the questioning looks. She lifted her chin. God would just have to take care of all of that. She was here for Ben just as she said she would be. At the front, he stepped back to let her enter the bench, and in the next second, she found herself between Jason and Ben. She reached over for Jason who looked surprised but recovered quickly. A small wave and smile at Holly were enough.

  She’d been to many funerals. They were all different. B
ut none had been anywhere near like this.

  It was a very good thing for Kathryn. Ben thought that every time they sat and every time they stood. The first reading was something about a large army and some guy who saw angels that weren’t there.

  “O, Lord, open his eyes that he might see,” the reader said.

  Ben closed his, thinking how nice it would be to have angels he didn’t know where there. When he opened them again, he almost laughed out loud when Kathryn looked over at him and smiled. Maybe angels weren’t so far away after all.

  The psalm started and though he hadn’t known he knew anything about the Bible, he remembered her saying those verses in her sweet, calm, patient voice. It took next to nothing to remember sitting there with her in the hospice, and his heart said he would never forget. The second reading started.

  “Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say again: rejoice!”

  The words took Ben off-guard. Somehow he hadn’t expected to be enjoined to rejoice at his own father’s funeral. He probably should’ve given a little more thought and opinion to what Jason had chosen.

  “Your kindness shall be known to all. The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving make your requests known to God. Then the peace that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Jesus Christ.”

  Requests? At that moment, Ben only had one, and it had to do with the woman sitting right next to him, holding his hand. He would have glanced over at her, but he didn’t have to.

  “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure…”

  With each whatever, Ben realized he had no standing to make the request he’d just made. Pure? Just? Honorable? He wasn’t any of those. His spirit sank deeper.

  “Whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me. Then the God of peace will be with you.”

  The reader finished and stepped away.

  The truth stared at him, and he felt it laughing. How could he even think of Kathryn joining him in life? She was all those things. Gracious. Lovely. Loving. Hopeful. Prayerful. He was none of them. As they stood, he let her hand go and crossed his arms. Somehow it was hard enough to be standing here with his father’s casket sitting right there in front of him, he didn’t need the reminder of how surely his life was sliding into the pit.

  He wondered how much was left of this torture session. As Father Patrick approached the lectern, Ben fought not to look at his watch. The headache was coming back.

  Father Patrick announced the Gospel. All Ben wanted to do was figure out how to speed up time. Shifting feet, he reached up and scratched his head. If he’d paid attention as a kid, he might know how much longer. As it was, there was no telling if this might in fact last into the next eternity.

  Kathryn noticed Ben let her hand go. That worried her, but what worried her more was how fidgety he suddenly seemed. She closed her eyes and knocked Satan away with a one-two punch of the Sword of the Spirit and then called all of God’s angels into the situation. Satan, let go of Ben by the Blood of Jesus. You can’t have him. Not anymore. Let go. God, please, come in here, flood Ben with Your love. Please.

  “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments. And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, which the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows it. But you know it, because it remains in you, and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you. In a little while the world will no longer see Me, but you will see Me, because I live and you will live. The Gospel of the Lord.”

  “Praise to You, Lord Jesus Christ,” Kathryn replied with most of the rest of the congregation. When she went to sit, she realized Ben hadn’t followed. She reached up and touched his arm.

  He looked down and realized his mistake. Quickly he sat next to her. Smoothing, shifting, moving. There wasn’t a thing about him that was calm. His head twisted one way and then the other, and he closed his eyes clearly struggling.

  It was impossible to know how he would take it, if she was over-stepping her bounds or doing something that would push him away forever, but she took the leap and reached across for his hand. His gaze snapped to hers, and she ducked her gaze in seriousness at him, asking without asking if he was all right.

  At first his eyes were wild, like they were looking for an escape hatch, but then the wild fell away, revealing only a deep, heart-wrenching sadness. She understood. After all, he’d just lost his father.

  Ben dropped her gaze with a shake of his head even as he left his hand in hers. She was an angel. He was scum. What other conclusion could any sane person possibly come to after hearing all of that?

  Father Patrick stepped down the stairs to address the congregation, and Ben wondered again how long this might take, hating himself for wondering even as he did so. He was sure she wasn’t thinking that. She probably had the readings memorized.

  “We gather today not only in sadness over the death of our brother, Ronald Warren, but to rejoice in Ron’s life. Our readings illuminate so beautifully the point of reference that Ron had learned over the course of his life. During one of our last meetings together, he told me about this point of reference—how he had been reading about survivors and the tricks they use to survive. One of those tricks that Ron was most enamored with was that of the point of reference. He told me that there was a time when his life had spun out of control, and he very nearly lost everything. But then he spoke of the point of reference he had found right here.” Father Patrick picked up the Bible in his hands. “I remember Ron telling me how he had learned to go to his point of reference when life and death decisions had been placed in his hands and how that single decision had made such a dramatic impact upon his life.

  “We spoke at length about the Gospel. How Jesus had sent an Advocate in the Holy Spirit to be with us, and how Ron had found in the Spirit an emotional point of reference, a single point that was there always and did not move. Having found that, it gave him the freedom to take risks like reaching out to his younger son and reestablishing contact with him.” Father Patrick looked across at Jason. “That moment was so very precious to your dad. He spoke of how frightened he’d been to take that leap, but how very grateful he had been for the opportunity.”

  Ben’s attention shifted from the self-loathing ones back to the present situation. His father. This was the last he would hear from him, about him. That thought drown all the others.

  “In fact, I believe in choosing this particular reading, Ron was giving us all a clue about what he most wanted for each of us.” Then Father Patrick looked right at Ben. “Finding that point of reference for your life is critical. When life has you coming all undone, it can mean the difference between surviving and succumbing.” His gaze slipped away, but Ben still felt it there. “When we find God and make Him our point of reference, we find just what St. Paul talked about in our second reading. We begin to become people of honor, justice, purity, love, graciousness, peace, and excellence. Not through a force of our own will but by the gracious direction of God’s love working in our lives. When those things begin to permeate our lives, our eyes are open, and we can begin to see what God is doing in our lives. Like Elisha from the first reading, we don’t see empty hills and an enemy army surrounding us, we begin to see the angels coming to our aid. We begin to see God’s power working in our lives just like Ron did in the later stages of his life. I have to say, I believe that was his greatest wish for all of us.” He paused. “Let us stand and remember our brother Ron.”

  Dutifully Ben stood, but he didn’t let go of her hand, or maybe she didn’t let go of his. He couldn’t clearly tell who was holding onto whom anymore. And he wasn’t at all sure that was even a bad thing.

  Although Ben asked, Kathryn chose to
drive herself to the graveyard. It would have been too weird to ride in the limousine. As she drove slowly amidst the string of cars, she let her thoughts trail back to the church, standing there, holding his hand for all the world to see. She wondered again if that’s what it felt like to be in love. True, she would do anything for him. That was a given, but today would not last forever. At some point it would end, and there would be a tomorrow, and tomorrow life would go on—for him and for her. Where that would leave them was anyone’s guess. Still, she pushed that back, determined to be here for him today. Tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

  After the short ceremony in the graveyard, the crowd broke up, and Ben stood under the little awning for one more moment looking at the casket as the others dissipated. The spray of flowers had been removed, and the casket now stood over the hole in the ground bare but stoic—ready for its fate. A hand clapped him on the back, and Ben turned to find Kelly, eyes sad and knowing, right behind him. Wordlessly, they embraced. Gratefulness for his friend tore through Ben. He didn’t deserve such a good friend as this one.

  When the embrace broke, they turned together, looking at the casket.

  “So do you think this is it?” Ben asked, feeling the utter pointlessness of it all if it was.

  “Nah, man. You’ll see him again. He’s probably up there right now getting everything all organized for the rest of us.”

  Ben laughed. “He certainly tried to get me organized.”

  Kelly joined the laugh. “Like that ever worked.”

  The laugh fell away as Ben shook his head. “It just went so fast.”

  A moment and Kelly sighed softly. “It all does, man. That’s why we’ve got to make the right stuff important instead of taking for granted it’s always going to be here.”