The Missing Piece (Inspirational Love Story)
Page 20
“Where’d you come from?” she whispered while contemplating backing into him, but deciding not to, only because she’d have to tend to him in the hospital tomorrow, if she did. Watching him in the mirror, she waited for him to get out of the way.
Dylan pushed himself from the car and sauntered over to her, as calm radiated from every pore of his body.
Lorraine lowered her window and glared up at him. “What do you want?”
“You,” he said, matter-of-factly. “If you come out and play, I’ll bring candy,” he teased and winked at her.
“I think you’ve already had your share of rum-balls this week.”
“What?” he laughed.
“Or whatever your drink of the day was on Tuesday.”
“I’m still not following you.”
“Buck! Booze! Waving, weaving, falling down drunk! I saw you! Now please get out of my way.”
Dylan nonchalantly propped his left arm above the window of her car. “When you came over Tuesday, you thought I was drunk?” He rubbed his chin with his other hand and looked up at the sky, as though pondering the meaning of life.
“It sure looked that way,” she said, opening her eyes wide. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m on my way home.”
“Well, Lorraine, if you’d have stuck around long enough to examine my condition, you would have discovered that I actually had an ear infection. Good thing Doug came along when he did, to take me to the doctor.”
A feeling of stupefied embarrassment flushed over Lorraine, as she stammered, “An ear infection?”
“I haven’t touched a drop of booze, as you call it, since the knifing incident. When I wake up in the morning my knees hit the floor. I know I can’t do it alone, so I pray for strength to get though the day sober.” Dylan exhaled a deep sigh. “And by the grace of God, I won’t ever touch the stuff again. It’s a one-day-at-a-time battle, but every day that I make it through, I grow stronger for the next. Pastor Jacobson’s been a big help too. After I told him how I almost caved and drank, on what I thought was your wedding day, he reminded me of our accountability pact.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s when I feel the urge to take a drink, I call him instead. He prays for me, listens to me, or stays with me until the desire passes.”
“Oh, Dylan, I’m sorry for what I assumed about you. From what I’ve seen in every other aspect, it’s like you’re a new and improved version of the man that I married. And, as long as I’m apologizing here, I’m also sorry about the day at the fitness center. That’s why I came to your house the other day. I wanted to apologize and to tell you that part of the reason for my anger was that my car was in the shop, and that one of my former patients had died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, me too. She was like a grandmother to me.” Lorraine lowered her head.
Dylan reached inside the car and touched the top of her head then stroked his hand down the side of her face. He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. “Come with me. I have dinner in the oven at my place. I want to talk to you.” He opened her door and waved toward the car that he’d been leaning on. “My chariot awaits.”
“That’s your car?”
“Um-hum. Come with me, Lorraine.” He touched her arm so she would stand up.
“I don’t think so.”
“If it makes you feel any better we can take your car. That way, you can feel free to leave whenever you like.”
Lorraine hesitated as she studied him, and then said, “Alright, but just for awhile.”
Dylan slid into her car before she changed her mind.
When they arrived at Dylan’s house, Lorraine removed her shoes and hung her coat on the hook near the door.
“Supper will be ready in a few minutes,” Dylan said, hanging his jacket next to hers.
“You timed that well. Are you a prophet too?”
He laughed, “I wanted to feed you before you changed your mind about staying.”
“What if I didn’t come?”
“I’d be eating leftovers tomorrow.”
Lorraine smiled then noticed that Dylan had set the table before they’d arrived. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Faith and hope,” he said, grabbing a potholder and pulling a Pyrex dish from the oven.
“So where’s Misty?”
“She’s around here somewhere.” Dylan set the rectangular dish on the stove, turned, and called his furry friend. Misty pranced into the kitchen after rubbing her side along the doorjamb with her tail poised high in the air.
“Hey, puss, how’ve you been?” Lorraine crouched down to rub Misty’s neck.
Dylan carried the whole meal to the table in three trips, then slid the spatula under the pork chops and placed one on each plate.
Lorraine patted Misty then washed her hands before sitting down. “Umm, breaded pork chops. They smell great.”
Dylan pulled out a chair for her, and then served the baked potatoes.
“I can do that, you know.”
Dylan scooped up a spoonful of green beans and placed them on her plate. “I know.”
“You’re spoiling me, you know.”
“I know. You’re worth it.”
The same dinner ritual followed that occurred during her last visit. The same reverent giving of thanks for the meal, the unwavering attention to her needs, the light conversation.
After they’d finished eating, Lorraine said, “Isn’t this sort of deja vu?”
“Yep, and I’m picking up where we left off.”
“Does that mean you’re going to play in the mud again?”
“I’m leaving that part out.”
Lorraine wiped her mouth and laid the napkin next to her plate. “My goodness, Dylan, I’m really impressed that you can cook so well. Did you take a class somewhere?”
“Yep, at the culinary school of hunger knocks.” He pushed his chair back and picked up their coffee cups. “I want to talk to you before you rush off. Follow me into the living room.” He led her to the couch, where he set the cups down on the table, while she positioned herself at the corner of the sofa. Dylan turned and stood in front of her.
She looked up at him and her stomach fluttered at the thought that he might kiss her.
Dylan bent down close to her, as he lightly placed his hands on her knees and rested them there. Lorraine tipped her chin up and closed her eyes in anticipation, but instead of a kiss, he slid his both of his hands under her calves, down to her ankles then lifted them up to one side. Then he placed her feet upon his lap when he sat down.
“Comfortable?” Dylan began to gently rub her stocking-covered feet.
“Yes, very.” She burrowed herself deeper in the cushion.
“Good, now I have you at my mercy.” And he lightly tickled the bottom of her foot.
She giggled and rubbed her feet together so he would stop, and he did. But then he held her big toe up, and with a silly grin, he said, “Okay, let’s try this little piggy went to market.”
And she giggled and shuffled her feet once more. She sat still and looked at him and when she did, she felt like a little girl again. And in an odd way, it made her feel safe and warm inside.
Dylan had stopped teasing and he looked more serious now. He reached for his coffee and took a drink, and as he set the cup down on the table, he said, “What happened, Lorraine?”
“When?” She drew her knees up slightly.
“After you left me. After you left the hospital.”
She shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
“It’s okay. We need to talk about it. I know you have questions too.”
“As a matter-of-fact, I do.” Lorraine sat up straight and crossed her arms in front of her. “Who’s Denise?”
“A woman from the church. Why?”
“Is she, or was she, your girlfriend?”
“No, she’s the pianist at church. What makes you think that?”
“
She told me that you two have been seeing each other ‘at least two or three times a week for months,’ if I’m quoting her correctly.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow, grinning, almost laughing. “When did she tell you all this?”
“In the hospital, when she was holding your hand while you were unconscious.”
Dylan looked up at the ceiling then shook his head and laughed.
“Well, I’m glad you think it’s funny.”
“No, it’s not that.” He held his hand up like a crossing guard. “I admit, I do see her that often, but it’s during church, Sunday school and prayer meeting. I think she has a crush on me. Then again, she may have just been concerned for my well-being. The people at the church are very sincere in their care for one another.” He paused for a moment, lowered his head then snapped it back up again. “So that’s where all the animosity came from at the fitness center!” He smiled and nodded at the sudden flash of insight.
“Well, what else would I have thought? It sure looked like there was something going on.”
“There wasn’t. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“I think you were,” he said, flashing that stupid Grinch-like grin again.
“I was not,” she fumed, knowing that he was right.
“Back to the original question, so what happened?”
Lorraine picked up her cup and cradled it in her hands, as though to create a protective barrier between him and her heart. He had remained faithful throughout their whole separation; she had become engaged. She sighed heavily, wondering how much information to volunteer. Yet, it didn’t seem to matter. She had an uncanny feeling that no matter what she told him, he would accept it graciously. She sipped her coffee and then slowly lowered the cup. “When you broke my heart, Randy was there to pick up the pieces.”
“Humm...” Dylan nodded, his chest noticeably rising and falling when he breathed.
“I went to college and studied during every waking moment, and then I began working at the hospital after graduation. That’s about it.” She cleared her throat then asked, “So what happened to you?” A hint of a quiver had preceded the question.
“Believe me, you don’t want to know,” he lowered his head as his voice grew solemn.
“Yes, I do,” she said, searching his face and then letting her gaze fall to her hands. “It was like you fell off the face of the earth.”
“Something like that.” He hesitated, shut his eyes and let out a small groan, as though agonizing over what to say next. “Lorraine, I didn’t know how to handle your leaving or the baby dying or my own ignorance about how to be a good husband, so I bolted. I didn’t mean to leave. I just wanted to get away to sort things out and to grieve on my own.”
Sighing, Dylan combed his fingers through his hair. “I took the easy way out and tried to drink my problems away, which only made matters worse. I ended up wrecking my car in West Virginia and accumulating more problems than when I began.”
Lorraine felt her lips separate and her eyes fill with tears.
“That’s why I never came after you. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t. I was in jail.”
“Jail?” Her voice trembled as she squeezed her eyes closed and turned her head away.
“I was served the divorce papers there. You must’ve known.”
She slowly shook her head. “No, I didn’t know. I just meant to scare you that night. I didn’t intend to stay away forever.” She lifted her chin and bit her lower lip. “Then the whole plan backfired when I lost the baby.” She lowered her head again. “And when you didn’t come back, I thought you didn’t care. My parents told me you moved away. They took care of everything concerning the divorce. All I had to do was sign the papers.” Her voice trailed off as she turned her head to hide the tears that threatened to spill.
“I wrote to you until I got the papers.”
“I never received any letters.” Lorraine wiped a fingertip under her eye.
“Figures, your father never liked me.”
The conversation was becoming emotionally draining by the minute. Anxious for a reprieve, Lorraine said, “I’m going to get some more coffee. Do you want some more?”
“Sure.”
Lorraine stood and picked up the cups before hurrying into the kitchen. Jail? Why didn’t her parents tell her? And why was Dylan opening himself up like this? Didn’t he realize what he was doing to her? Maybe he did, and that’s why he was doing it. The whole conversation was dredging up a load of emotions that she didn’t want to deal with now, or ever.
Lorraine set the cups on the counter and pulled a paper towel from the roll. She patted her eyes and blotted her nose, and then pressed the towels to her face to muffle the sobs that came from a place she had kept closed before.
Lorraine’s back was to Dylan when he walked into the kitchen. Her head was down, her hands on her face.
“Are you okay?” Dylan touched her shoulder and she jerked it forward. “What’s the matter, Lorraine?”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“About us?”
“About anything. I can’t do this. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She took a step toward the door and wiggled her foot into one shoe and then the other. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
Dylan followed, as she headed for her coat. “Things aren’t going to get better unless we talk about what happened. I’m trying to deal with my past, the loss of you and the baby. I can’t bring our daughter back, but I can try to bring you back. Please, don’t go. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“Why are you trying to make me remember? I hate you for what you’ve done. If you weren’t out with the guys so much, none of this would have ever happened. It’s all your fault!”
“I know. I know,” he spoke in a soothing tone. “I take the blame for being a jerk and taking your love for granted, but it’s not my fault that Amanda died. No one is to blame. It was an accident.”
He’d never said the baby’s name in front of her, and her lip twitched after he said it. He reached up to touch her shoulder, but she pulled away. “I have to leave now.”
“Lorraine.” He stood between her and the door, as she took her coat down from the hook.
“Please get out of my way,” she said, stuffing her arm into the sleeve.
“I saw Amanda.”
Lorraine snapped her collar up and glared at him. “You what? You’re crazy!”
“I saw her. She looks just like you and she’s beautiful.”
“Stop it!” Her tears flowed again. “Get away from me!” she said. But before he had a chance to move, she pounded the side of her fist on his chest.
Dylan clasped her arms to her sides and held them there. “Lorraine, please, I miss you so much. I love you. I need you. Please, don’t go.” He held her tight, pleading.
She’s mine. Let her go.
The hairs on the back of Dylan’s neck stood on end when the Spirit spoke to him. Dylan immediately released Lorraine’s arms and then took a step back. He knew that it was true. She was the Lord’s, and he couldn’t control her. It had to be her choice to come back to him, to open like the flower that blooms in its time.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re free to go.”
Dylan stood at the window and watched Lorraine’s taillights fade down the road, and out of his life. He drew a breath that seemed to come from the lowest lobe of his lungs then exhaled an audible sigh, and said, “What do you want me to do now, Lord?”
Trust Me.
TWENTY-FIVE
Lorraine glanced in the rearview mirror after applying the brake at the red light. She honestly meant to finish her talk with Dylan last week, but the sudden eruption of tears caught her off guard. When he brought up events from the past, the memories stung like salt in a wound. She didn’t know how to relieve the pain except by running away from it, which after she’d thought about it, was exactly what he had done.
The light turned green and Lorraine cruised through the intersection, as her mind turned back to Dylan. She felt terrible for leaving him stranded at home, since he’d left his car in the hospital parking lot. It wasn’t there the next day when she arrived at work, so apparently he’d found a way to retrieve it.
She thought he would have tried to reach her by now, but he hadn’t. Maybe he was fed up with her yo-yo emotions and decided to give up on her. The least she could do now was explain her peculiar behavior. So, turning down the road toward Dylan’s house, she was determined to give him yet another apology, this time for being the one to run.
* * *
A fire truck! What’s a fire truck doing at his house? Dylan looked to the sky for smoke then opened his car window and sniffed the air, but there was no smell of anything burning. Yet, the fact remained that a fire truck was parked at his house! Any other Saturday he would have been home by now, but Doug wanted to put the final touches on his latest project, which happened to be a burned out home on Temple Street. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the head? Out fixing a burnout while his own home went up in flames.
He didn’t intend to work so long on his usual day off, but the place was coming along so well that they stayed to finish most of the inside. Doug easily coaxed him into staying with the generous incentive of overtime pay. So they spent the day sanding hardwood floors, hanging doors and running a banister up the oak staircase. They’d also replaced light fixtures, switch-plates and plug covers. No one would ever believe the place was once toast.
As he neared his house, he could see the ladder extended above the roof, but where was the smoke? He sped down the road with his engine and heart racing at nearly the same speed.