Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series) (24 page)

Once the room was sufficiently tidy, Logan jumped off the platform and walked towards Marilee. Her heart quickened its pace.

“Want to get something to eat?”

She’d already had dinner, but she wasn’t going to pass up the chance to have Logan’s undivided attention. “Sure.”

“Good.”

She couldn’t resist the urge to straighten his tie. “I’m crazy about you, Logan.”

“That’s what I hear.” He searched her face, a smile playing across his lips. “How come you were so late tonight?”

“Oh, I had to take my wedding gown to the seamstress and while Mom and I were there, we started looking through patterns for the bride’s maids’ dresses.” Marilee grinned. “I think we found one, too!”

“Couldn’t that have waited until tomorrow?”

Marilee didn’t miss his hint at a frown. “No, Mrs. Avery, that’s the seamstress, is going out of town and won’t be back for two weeks. Mom and I wanted to hurry and get over to her shop because Mrs. Avery said her schedule is full until Christmas and filling rapidly for next year already.”

Logan rolled a shoulder, a dip in his brow. He obviously wasn’t pleased with her explanation.

“Look —” She prayed he’d understand. “—I don’t usually plan things for Wednesday nights. My responsibilities here come first. But this couldn’t be helped.”

“Not a problem.” Logan grinned and Marilee sensed, much to her relief and satisfaction that the discussion was over.

Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he turned to the remaining four kids who were horsing around on the platform. “Hey, everyone. Time to go.” He guided Marilee toward the doorway. “Thanks for your help tonight.”

The kids walked out with them. Stepping inside the elevator, they all rode up to the main floor. When they reached the lobby the teens scattered and Marilee and Logan made their way to the front doors.

Logan waved to his aunt and uncle who were conversing with Allie Littenberg.

“I’m worried about Ronnie.”

The serious note in Logan’s voice captured Marilee’s attention as they walked through the parking lot.

“She seems kind of down about everything. Pessimistic. Cynical.”

“She’s having a difficult time with things right now. From what Ronnie told me on Labor Day, she’s struggling at her public high school. She and her friends have been open about their faith so they get snubbed and ridiculed by the other kids sometimes.”

“I wish my uncle Steve would have put her in our academy.”

“Kind of late now.” Marilee stepped in closer to Logan. “Ronnie’s a senior and she wants to graduate with her friends. And just remember, kids can be mean even in a private school. You know how it is with some of the teens in our youth group, and the situations that arise.”

“Good point.”

Marilee smiled as they reached her car. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Logan about including Ronnie in their wedding party, but she decided to wait until they were seated at the restaurant. “Where do you want to eat?”

“How ‘bout that family restaurant just up the street? Seems convenient for both of us.”

Fishing her keys out of her purse, Marilee nodded. The establishment sat just blocks from the townhouse she rented and close to the interstate, which Logan took back to Oakland Park.

“I’ll meet you there.” Logan placed a quick kiss on her cheek. His tangy cologne smelled quite appealing.

Happiness rained over her as Marilee got into her car. She closed the door and fastened her seatbelt. Slipping the key into the ignition, she started her vehicle’s engine and the tape in her cassette player sounded a lovely wedding waltz. Excitement enveloped her once more. Planning her own wedding was the most fun she’d ever had!

Chapter Eighteen

Sunshine streamed into Cynthia’s room. Who had opened her draperies? With her head swimming from medication, she glanced around, but didn’t see her angel. Only Angel would have allowed the light in. Whenever Angel was in her room, it seemed brighter―even with the curtains drawn.

I’m not an angel. My name is Allie.

The words echoed in Cynthia’s mind, along with everything else she’d said. Had it been yesterday? The day before?

For God so loved the world…

Cynthia searched her memory for the connection between the name and the passage of Scripture. In her mind’s eye, she rummaged through a man’s black wallet that contained the picture of a woman with long blond hair, parted in the middle, and hanging straight down past her shoulders. It was a professional snapshot―a high school senior wallet sized portrait, and seeing it caused a jolt of jealousy to shoot right through Cynthia. But who was she? One of her daughters’ friends? Whose wallet? One of her ex-husbands’?

The subject of men’s wallets, caused her to think of the men she’d married, each time hoping she had hit the jackpot―in more ways than one. But each marriage proved more disastrous than the one before. Out of her four husbands, two were Hispanic and lived in the Southwest―and Cynthia had lived there too, until she met and married Bill Matlock. Patti was in high school and Kelly in junior high when he and Cynthia tied the knot.

Ironically, Bill hailed from Chicago, just like her first husband. She only wished that she hadn’t allowed him to talk her into coming back here. Things might have been different had they stayed in Oklahoma. Bill might not have lost his job, started drinking, and molested Patti and Kelly. Her daughters might not hate her for “letting it happen,” as they claim.

Cynthia’s thoughts turned bitter.
Stupid girls I didn’t let it happen. And I divorced the jerk right after I found out. My lawyer saw to it that he got jail time. Wasn’t that enough?

“Wasn’t that enough?”

Someone touched her arm, and Cynthia realized she’d been thrashing about. She opened her eyes and blinked, focusing on the male nurse standing at her bedside―the one named Nate.

“Do you need more pain medicine? Another Coke?”

“Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

“I was always nice, Mrs. M―even though you tried to take a bite out of my arm.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, just in case her angel stood nearby.

“Apology accepted, especially since your lab work came back A-OK. That means you’re tamer than a rattlesnake. Now, what’s it going to be?”

“Can you give me something…something to stop the…the dreams?” Cynthia rasped.

“Not legally.” Nate chuckled. “I can get you some more pain medicine.”

“Can you get my angel?”

Nate chuckled again. “Nope. Your angel is busy handing out pink slips. Now, do you need something or not?”

Cynthia closed her eyes. “I wish I had some company.”

“Can’t help you there. Your angel’s got us filling out productivity reports.” Nate slid the call button into her palm. “But if you need something―something reasonable―you know what to do.”

“Yeah, I know what to do.” She felt sleepy again. “I know what to do…”

* * *

As was his habit whenever life became too complicated, too painful, Jack busied himself at work, picking up extra shifts in addition to his own. He’d learned long ago that his thoughts couldn’t plague him if he was too tired to think. Unfortunately, when he was tired, his leg bothered him and it obviously disturbed the police chief too. Consequently, the axe fell first thing Thursday morning.

“The department has a new policy about paying out vacation time to retiring officers,” the chief told him. “It’s all a part of the city’s attempt at cutbacks.” The younger man who, in Jack’s eyes, resembled a new recruit straight out of boot camp, flipped open a file. “According to the report out of payroll, you’ve got six weeks coming, Callahan. You either take ‘em or lose ‘em. Those are your options.”

Options, yeah, right.

Jack recalled those words and the entire scene encompassing it as he pulled his SUV into the garage, attached to his apartment. He knew the chief just wanted him gone and the sooner the better. Well, he opted for taking his vacation, but he wasn’t happy about it and he let all the higher-ups know it. Little good that did.

Muttering, Jack climbed out of his vehicle and walked to the side door. After pushing the button to close the garage, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He found Logan at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and reading the morning paper.

“Hi.” He glanced in Jack’s direction.

Jack murmured a greeting.

“Tough night?”

“You might say that.”

Logan set down the newspaper. “Want to talk about it?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it! Why does everything have to be discussed and analyzed?”

“Hey, forget I asked, okay?”

Clenching his jaw, Jack made his way down the hallway to his bedroom, intent upon changing his clothes.

* * *

Logan watched his father and noted the limp. Dad had worked long hours the last couple of days. Suddenly Logan wished he’d come up with a more spiritual reply.

A soft answer turns away wrath, But a harsh word stirs up anger.

Logan closed his eyes.
Lord, please forgive me.
Lately it didn’t seem like he could do anything right when it came to Dad. Was it pointless to stay here? Maybe he ought to move out.

Hearing the refrigerator open, Logan swung his gaze across the room where his father now stood in only a T-shirt and boxers. He pulled out a beer, looked at it, then threw it, along with what remained of the twelve-pack, into the trash. A good move, although he wasn’t sure what it meant. Could be Dad just didn’t like that brand of beer.

“Listen, I’m sorry for biting your head off.”

Another apology? Second this month! “Sure, Dad, no problem.”

“I got canned today…well, not exactly canned. Same difference, though. I’m being forced to take my vacation time before I retire. So, to sum it up, my career as a police officer has come to a screeching halt.”

“That rots.” Logan tried to imagine how he’d feel if he were ousted from the ministry. Hurt. Angry. Disappointed. Scared.

“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m in such a foul mood.”

“I appreciate your telling me.”

Dad opened one cupboard after another. “Why don’t we have any food around here?”

Logan grinned. “We’re two bachelors who work all the time, that’s why. Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about if you take up cooking, now that you’re retired, so we don’t starve to death.”

Dad sent him one of his
you’ve got to be kidding
glares, and Logan laughed. “How about you just hurry up and get married and I’ll conveniently show up at mealtime?”

“Works for me.” Logan suddenly remembered the message lying by the phone. “Someone named Colleen called for you. She left a message on the answering machine, asking if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night.”

Dad walked to the phone and read the message.

“She said she invited Allie.”

“So I see.” Dad read the message. “Thanks.”

“Are you going?”

“I don’t know. I’m too tired to think about it right now.”

“At least you’ll get fed.”

“You got a point there.”

“Dad, I’m curious…are you considering a relationship with Allie?”

Dad closed his eyes as if steeling himself, and Logan realized the question had shaken him.

“Sorry I asked. It’s none of my business.”

“I don’t know how to answer you, Logan. I’m a divorced guy who doesn’t have a relationship with Christ, and Allie’s a devoted Christian. How much hope do you think there is for the two of us?”

“According to Allie you used to have a relationship with Christ. What happened?”

“I got involved with your mother, that’s what happened!”

“David got involved with Bathsheba, but he’s still considered a man after God’s own heart.”

“Logan, I’m too tired to have this discussion.”

“Right. You told me that. I apologize.” He hadn’t meant to poke and prod. He merely wanted to help. Lifting the newspaper, Logan reread the headlines.

“Oh, I give up,” Dad said at last. “Forget breakfast. I’m going to bed. See you later.”

“Sleep well.”

Peering over the paper, he watched Dad head for his bedroom. Logan had to admit that he felt somewhat encouraged. He sensed God was at work in his dad’s heart.

A putrid smell reached his nose. Standing, he crossed the room and hoisted the garbage bag out of its plastic bin. He tied it up and took it out to the dumpster at the far end of the parking lot. As he walked back to the apartment, he realized what a perfect day it was, mild temperature, no clouds in the sky, a light breeze blowing. Inhaling the fresh, fall air, he decided it was a great day to be alive.

* * *

Jack wished he were dead. His leg throbbed, his life lay in a shambles, and his career had been snatched out from under him. In short, he had nothing to live for.

Turning onto his side, he endeavored to ignore his mounting frustration. He tried to switch off his thoughts and sleep, hoping he’d wake up and discover this past month had all been a bad dream. But his attempts failed. Instead, he recalled Allie sitting across the table from him at Zips’ place, saying, “If either of us has a cause to be bitter, it’s me. I didn’t get married first, you did.”

Oh, God, what did I do? How could I have let the love of my life go? How could I have fallen into sin with a woman I didn’t even like?

Jack clearly remembered the disappointed expression on Pastor Barlow’s face when he confessed to being intimate with Roxi. He hadn’t yet known she was carrying his child. The act alone had pierced his conscience. Jack said he was sorry. More sorry than any man could ever be. He vowed it wouldn’t happen again. But instead of forgiveness, Jack got a tongue-lashing―which he deserved. He violated God’s laws, after all. But when Pastor Barlow requested that he leave the church and never return, that had been a blow Jack didn’t expect. He never thought Pastor Barlow, one of the godliest men he knew, would cast him out of the church he loved―and in a time when he needed the comfort and support of fellow Christians the most!

Leaving that day, Jack left his faith too. He realized seventy-times-seven was a concept preached from the pulpit, but it obviously had little bearing in the real world. He had begged for forgiveness, but was turned away.