by Carolyn Zane
“Thank you!” Bob Ray kissed Ms. Tully’s soft, paper-thin cheek and jumped into the crowd. His head whipping left and right, eyes flashing, he pushed past people and ran, his heart thudding with both dread and anticipation.
Heather? Where was Heather? Please, please be here.
“Hey! Watch it!” a woman snapped as he barreled past and bumped her arm.
“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder but didn’t stop. He was a man with a mission.
“Bob Ray?”
He skidded to a stop at the sound of his name and spun around. “Heather?” He hollered. Heads turned to stare, but he didn’t care.
“Bob Ray! Over here!”
Jumping up, he spotted her standing next to a grouping of chairs on the hospital’s front lawn area. Robbie was fast asleep, bundled safely in a giant red blanket. His heart caught in his throat. Heather! Tears were streaming down his face now. Heather, beautiful, beautiful Heather. His best friend. The girl who’d given him a healthy son.
Getting to her was like trying to make an end run against an opposing team on the football field. He had to weave and dodge and push, but he finally made it to his family. She gasped as he swept her into his arms and spun her in a circle. Then, in front of God and everybody, Bob Ray kissed his wife. Hungrily. Eagerly. Passionately.
It was a kiss filled with gratitude and apology and most importantly, love. They were both in tears by the time he was done. Clasping her face between his palms, he pushed his nose against hers and kissed her lips, her chin, her jaw and her eyes. “I was so scared,” he confessed. “So scared that I’d lost you. Tell me,” he begged, and threaded his hands through her hair. “Tell me I still have you.”
Eyes shining, Heather laughed like the girl he’d first seriously courted in high school. “You have me,” she breathed against his mouth. “You have always had me.”
The inferno in his belly began to ease and in its place the feeling of becoming a real husband and father took residence.
“Oh, Zuzu. No.” As Abigail drew her friend into her arms for a hug, no one voiced what they were all thinking. A brilliant Olympic career? Over. Years of hard work? Haruo and Mieko had to be heartbroken. “I’m so, so sorry,” she said around a lump of sympathy.
“Thank you,” Isuzu said and sniffed, her smile, watery. “They are alive. This, I am so thankful to Jesus for. And He is working out everything, I trust. Just hard to see.”
Impossible, Abigail thought, but only nodded. She didn’t share Isuzu’s generous opinion. “How are your brother and sister-in-law holding up?”
“They are thankful both kids are alive, but very scared for Brooke.”
“What about her boyfriend? What was his name again?”
“Nick. The kids were outside when tornado hit,” Isuzu haltingly explained. “When they find Brook she is . . . unconscious. She have serious spinal injury.”
Abigail swallowed and blinked. “And Nick?”
“No one see Nick.”
Heather finally understood the need of the father to barbecue the fatted calf for the prodigal son’s return. Bob Ray was home. She settled in next to the boy she remembered from her childhood. It was that Bob Ray who lit his eyes now. It was that Bob Ray in his touch. In his voice. He drew his foot up over his knee and propped their sleeping toddler in his lap before he turned to face her. For several long seconds, he sat in silence.
Heather could see the thoughts, like logs in a jam, struggling to organize themselves and flow out. She waited, fearing what she would hear, but resigned herself to wait. Her husband was back, but God knew he wasn’t perfect.
“I was so scared,” he began, his eyes welling. “I thought God was punishing me with this storm for the stuff I’ve been thinking about . . . about . . . what I was missing out on. Here I was, married to a beautiful girl and blessed with a healthy son and I wanted . . . something more.”
Heather nodded. She knew.
Shame had his eyes sliding closed and his chin dropping to his chest. “I thought maybe I’d lost you and the baby and that I’d have to live with that . . .” He had to stop, for the sobs closed off his throat and had his shoulders heaving. “Heather, I swear I never cheated on you. But I was thinking about . . . doing it. I . . . I . . . wanted to. I was just so sick of the responsibility. I just wanted . . .” his head dropped back and he peered into the night sky, “I wanted to play football again, you know? And party with the guys and stuff. Stupid. Stupid. Idiot. I was partying tonight, working, but really? Party time. And, when the hammer came down,” he paused and wiped his face on the baptismal curtain, “everything I thought I wanted? It wasn’t real. And it could never, ever compare to what I already have with you.” His sigh was ragged and he clutched her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.
Heather stared at her hands, encased in his. The words he spoke cut her to the bone, but . . . hadn’t she had similar feelings? More than once she’d fantasized about disappearing and living a life without Bob Ray’s misery. Thought about meeting someone new and starting over again. How could she be angry with him for sharing the same thoughts? Clearly, it took a lot of nerve to confess. Maybe he really had matured in the middle of the storm. Stranger things had happened.
“I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. I know I’ve been a total jerk.” His face was so wet, Heather closed her fingers over the cuff of her sleeve and dabbed at his cheeks, nose, and eyes with her cloth-covered palm. Tears welled all over again and spiked his lashes. “T . . . t . . . tonight I learned that . . . one second you’re here, a selfish jerk, and the next minute . . .” his sigh was ragged and consumed with emotion, “ . . . you’re dead. I know this is going to sound stupid, but I think God is trying to tell me something. Have you ever had that feeling where you know that He wants your attention. And you can run, but you can’t hide?”
Heather grinned. “Yes. I have been praying for us. For you. For so long.”
Bob Ray swallowed hard. “I don’t deserve it, but I want to try again. To start over. To go to church and to be a good husband and a . . .” For a moment, he was overcome again. “And, a father to Robbie. The kind of dad I always wished for.”
Bob Ray hadn’t spoken so earnestly in years. For him to be talking to her this way now was unbelievable. It had to be an answer to her prayers.
“I want that, too, Bob Ray,” she whispered and heads together, they cried.
“I found my parents!” Chaz told Abigail, Justin, and Isuzu, his smile huge with relief. “My brother and his family are all good, too. They’re at church right now, finding shelter for people who don’t have anywhere to go.”
“I may need to go visit them,” Abigail said and exhaled a heavy sigh.
Chaz stepped behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “Relax, girl. You are just a pile of knots. Listen, you’re gonna be fine. My parents live over by your Aunt Selma. That whole area was pretty much untouched.”
“Have you seen Kaylee?”
Giving his watch an impatient glance, he patted her neck and said, “She’s only a few minutes away. My phone is working fine now.”
Abigail exhaled tension and breathed in relief. Digging through her purse, she found her phone and saw that she had a frantic text message from her mother in California and several from friends in other states. There were also a number of text messages from local friends and family, concerned about her safety. Quickly, she sent out a mass text, letting everyone know that she was fine and at Rawston Legacy Hospital looking for a friend.
Justin was also able to let his family know that he was okay. “My grandparents are leaving the shelter and heading home. Southshire was lucky. There was some wind damage, but nothing big,” he told her as soon as he’d hung up.
“Oh, I’m so glad—” she was interrupted by giddy squeals as Kaylee and her mother and her aunt found Chaz. In spite of a broken arm, Kaylee was jumping up and down and frantically exchanging notes with Chaz about everything that happened over the last hours, whenever Chaz w
asn’t shutting her up with a kiss.
“Our place is completely wrecked,” Bob Ray told Heather. “Seriously. Looks like someone drove our trailer in a demolition derby and lost. Big time.” They’d been talking nonstop since he arrived. And, even though the news was terrible, he’d never felt more at peace. More convicted about what a lousy husband and father he’d been. More willing and eager to make amends and some serious changes in his life. And Heather. Beautiful, sweet Heather. Her forgiveness was a total gift that he in no way deserved. He’d spend the rest of his life working hard to make her happy.
“I know,” Heather said and shivered. “When I got here, I saw on the news that the tornado had plowed straight down Hollingsworth Boulevard.”
Head dipped to kiss his son, he murmured, “Luckily, Mrs. Carmichael is okay, but the place is totaled. Half of it’s in our yard. Half’s in hers.”
“What about Danny?” Heather asked as she remembered she’d left him there, when she and Robbie had headed off to the store for milk.
“Wasn’t there. Neither was his truck. Mrs. Carmichael said she thinks he left before the storm hit.”
Heather’s relief was audible. “Thank heavens. I was so worried. When I left, he was . . .” She swallowed, obviously emotional at the thoughts spinning through her head, she tried again, “. . . when I left he was under the house, looking to see if our insulation was soaked and hoping to find where the water was coming out.”
Bob Ray pushed back a stab of worry. Danny was from around here. He knew when to take shelter. He was a smart, strong man. He had to be safe. He had to be.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when the storm hit, Heather. That will never happen again. I promise you, I’ll be there whenever you need me in the future.”
“I know.”
Those two simple words sent a powerful rush of healing through his body, and he loved her more, if possible, than any person or thing he’d ever loved before.
“I guess it’s lucky we don’t own anything worth sweating over, huh?” He smiled at her, drinking in her sweet face and unselfish love for him and Robbie.
She shrugged. “Unless you count your football trophies and—”
“Heather? Heather?”
Both Heather and Bob Ray turned at the sound of her name filtering through the crowd and growing closer.
15
As Heather’s parents emerged from the milling, misplaced throng, a surge of adrenaline had Bob Ray tensing with the fight or flight syndrome. Rising to his feet, he shielded his son in his arms as he stepped between his in-laws and his wife, at their frantic, take-charge approach. Though he was tempted to stalk away and leave Heather to deal with her intimidating father, he stood his ground.
Huffing and harried, Mike and Denise were urgent with fear and when they saw their daughter, their relief was extreme. Palpable.
Bob Ray couldn’t help but wonder why they thought this disaster in their daughter’s life was more worthy of their attention than the last. As usual, her parents were dressed impeccably for a post-tornado meeting, their Tommy Bahama togs perfectly coordinated, their hair well-groomed and stylish. Both were still tan from their annual spring fling in Fiji. How he used to admire their style and wealth. Tonight, it seemed as vain and useless as the gold pinky ring on Mike’s finger.
Heather’s mother, Denise, reached them first. “Heather, oh, thank God! Mike! Over here!” She gestured for Heather’s father to hurry and join them. “Oh, we’ve been worried sick about you! And the baby! Living in that horrible trailer park during a tornado . . . why anything could have happened!”
The muscles in Bob Ray’s jaw jumped with resentment, and he was glad when Heather stood and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. Robbie was still fast asleep in his arms, blissfully unaware of the day’s traumas.
“We’ve been watching the news and saw that the storm hit that whole area.” Denise’s gaze strayed with longing at Robbie as she spoke to Heather. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” Heather darted a quick glance at her stony-faced father.
Bob Ray could see how awkward she felt with them after so much estrangement. Irritatingly, there was no warmth for him in either of their expressions. In their minds, Bob Ray was a loser. An undercurrent of so many angry memories shimmered between them and her parents.
Mike’s being there right now had to be Denise’s idea. This was the first time Heather’s father had seen her since the wedding. Clearly something was up. Bob Ray caught Mike staring at his angel-faced, curly-haired grandson. Emotions too numerous to count flickered across Mike’s face, giving the older man a vulnerability that almost had Bob Ray feeling sorry for him. Robbie was his first grandchild, and this was the first time he’d laid eyes on the kid.
“Honey,” Denise pressed Heather, emboldened by the horrendous trauma of the situation and no doubt counting on it to distract from the deeper issues. “Your father and I have talked it over. And we want you and little Robbie to come home with us.”
Bob Ray went stiff. His narrow gaze settled on Denise’s face, and their eyes clashed. So, he wasn’t included in this magnanimous invitation. He’d never admit it, but it stung.
Oblivious to her son-in-law’s feelings, or simply not caring, Denise continued. “The storm didn’t do much damage out in Lakewood. We can take care of you both until you can get on your feet again. In fact—”
Bob Ray shook his head. “No.” He turned to focus on Mike as he spoke. “Thank you, so much. But, no. As much as I know Heather appreciates your generous offer, I seem to recall you telling Heather she was my responsibility several years ago. So, with all due respect, I’ll provide shelter for my wife and son.”
Behind him, he felt Heather squeezing his arm, and he exchanged a quick, encouraging glance with her. Superman was reflected in her shining eyes, and it looked as if she was biting back a whoop of pride.
“What are you offering her?” Derision filled Mike’s hard voice. “Another trailer?”
Denise was exasperated, as well. “How are you going to support her, Bob Ray? That low-life bar is gone now.”
“I know,” he said, keeping his voice firm and steady. “I’ve already found a place for us to live and a job to get us by for now.” Selma had offered them room and board in exchange for some much needed work around her house—though he didn’t feel the need to share this information with them. “So, as much as I appreciate your belated concern for my wife and son, they’ll be coming home with me tonight.”
When Abigail finally spotted Selma near the Red Cross table, they ran toward each other with open arms, shouting with joy and hugging and kissing and hugging some more.
“I’ve been so worried about you, honey,” Selma pulled Abigail’s damp face down and ran her arthritic thumbs over her streaming cheeks.
“Me, too. Oh, Selma, they’re saying Old Town was hit hard. Were you at home when the storm touched down?”
“Thankfully, yes, honey, I was. Guadalupe and I were in my dear Clyde’s shelter, praise the good Lord, because we later learned that Guadalupe’s home is ruined. But my house is just fine. Don’t worry about your place. It can all be replaced. Believe me, I know. You’ll come home with me tonight and stay just as long as you want. Forever is just fine with me.”
“Auntie Sel,” Abigail swiped the tears from her cheek with the edge of her palm. Her lips were quivering as she tried to form the words around her sudden wracking sobs. “Oh, Selma . . . our buildings . . . our sweet little shops are gone. I’m homeless.” Funny, what that word used to mean to her before tonight. Before Bernie.
Before she lost everything in the blink of an eye.
“No, no, no. Never, honey. Your home is with me.”
“Is this a dream?” Abigail asked plaintively, desperate for Selma to help her understand. “I keep thinking we’re going to wake up in the morning and all of this will be a horrible nightmare. It’s not real. How could anything this . . . this terrible be real?”
&nb
sp; “I know. I had those same thoughts back in ’66. I know, honey. I know.” Selma clutched Abigail as the younger woman sobbed.
Abigail had never suffered such conflicting emotions. So much terrible loss of property, and yet so much precious gain in human life spared. Anger at the storm, gratitude for her aunt. Sorrow over the death, joy over the life. Fury over being a victim, relief over being spared.
Distrust of God warring with total dependence on Him.
“Now, you listen to me, honey. You are going to be just fine. Better than ever, in fact.” At Abigail’s whimper of protest she said, “Shh. It’s okay. Don’t you worry about any of this now. It will all sort itself out. In the meantime, you know how I love a full house. We’ll take a little time and get all of this mess squared away. And when we’re not so exhausted, we’ll make some decisions for the future. Abigail, honey, please, listen. I know. Shhh, now. Listen. I have invited others who have lost everything to come and stay with me as well. It will be wonderful. All suffering, all celebrating, all together, helping each other through. You know I’ll be glad not to be rattling around all alone in that big old house. Sweetie, it’s for times just like this that Clyde built it.”
Abigail clung to Selma’s firm voice and adamant expression. What would she do without her? And Justin. The surge of panic began to ebb a little.
“I have a new friend with me, Auntie Sel,” Abigail finally pulled herself together enough to haltingly explain about Justin and how he wasn’t sure yet, but it looked like he might need a place to stay for a while, too. “He’s a good friend of Danny Strohacker’s.”
“Danny Strohacker, you say? Really? That’s wonderful. The more the merrier, you know I always say that. I have a car full to take home, now. I want to get Bob Ray Lathrop—you know him?—no? Well, you will—and his wife and their little boy and Guadalupe and Elsa back to my place and into bed. Why don’t you find out what you can about Old Town, and I’ll come back for you both as soon as I can, okay?”