“But, Noah, it’s Sunday. You probably have things to do. Don’t you have religious things to do?”
Yeah, he thought. I have to stand in that empty church and remember what community really means. What shoring up your friends and neighbors is all about. What the real blessings are—they’re small of stature, they’re young, they’re innocent and they have to be protected. “I’m free all day, but I won’t interfere with your family time. I’ll be ready to take you in time for your deadline.”
“Mama?” Danielle asked from the backseat. She pronounced it “Mumma.” “Can we stay with you now?”
“Just for tonight, angel. Arnie thinks he can do a better job, and so does the judge, and we have to give him some time.”
“But, Mama, he doesn’t do his manners,” she said. “He doesn’t like us very much.”
“Sweetheart, all we can do is go along for now. The judge said ninety days, and we’re getting through it, then it will work out. Try not to let your feelings be hurt when he doesn’t mind his manners. Just do your best. And please, baby, please know that I will never ever be disappointed in you. I’m proud of you every second. We’ll all do our very best and soon it will be over.” She smiled at her daughter over her shoulder. “My gramma used to call it ‘Go along to get along.’ That’s what we have to do—go along for now. Pretty soon, we’ll be together. Forever.”
Danielle sniffed a little. “Oh, Mama,” she said. “It’s hard not to let my feelings hurt.”
“I know, Danny. But when we don’t have a choice, we have to be tough. I know how strong you are. You can get through this. And then, when it’s over, I’ll hold you and cuddle you every night.”
“Oh, Mama,” she said softly.
“I love you, Danielle. I’m proud of you for trying so hard.” But when Ellie said that last, her voice caught. She shook herself. “Well, having to be strong is no big deal to us, huh? Because we’re very strong! We love each other, and it makes us very strong. Right?”
“Mama,” was all the little girl said.
“I know it’s very hard,” Ellie said. “I know, honey. It’s very hard for me, too. I miss you so much it makes me want to cry. But I’m trying to be as brave as you. I’m so proud of you.”
Noah thought he might have to pull over to the side of the road, put his head down and have a bone-deep cry himself. When he pulled into the grocery-store lot, he forced himself to let her be the parent, to be independent and do her own shopping. He offered to keep the kids while she went into the store, but of course she couldn’t be separated from them for a second. They returned a few minutes later with only two shopping bags, but she must have indulged the kids, because they were happy again. They chattered about little pizzas, popcorn, cereal, juice and milk.
He dropped them off right at the back stairs to her rented room and watched them clamber up. Just as he was about to walk back down the street, Jo Ellen Fitch came out on her porch. She watched Ellie and her children go up the stairs. To Noah she said, “She didn’t mention kids. I’m not really set up for kids here.”
When Noah looked at her, his expression was grim. “Gimme a break. It’s overnight, that’s all.”
“Where do they live?” Jo asked.
“They’re with her ex-husband right now. She only sees them on weekends. Try to be nice about it. They mean everything to her.”
“Of course I’ll be nice about it,” she said, sounding affronted. “It’s just that—”
“It’s very hard for her, so let’s all be generous,” he said.
“Of course,” Jo Ellen said. “I didn’t mean—”
Noah took a breath. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fitch. It’s been a rough day for them.” For me, he thought. “I know you’ll be very kind to them. Thank you.”
He thought he should probably go someplace quiet and just pray until he fainted or lost bladder control, but instead he collected Lucy and went to Jack’s. He leashed Lucy while she ate, and he went into the bar, his throat dry and aching. He asked for ice water.
“Anything to eat or drink with that?” Jack asked him.
“Not yet, thanks,” Noah said. And then he sat, pondering the water in his glass, thinking. He’d been close to more than one difficult domestic situation in his career, especially as a counselor. Some of them had been more dramatic than Ellie’s, frankly. But this time it felt personal. Just listening to Danielle in the backseat of his car, her voice barely controlled, “Mama…” It tore his heart out.
“You getting hungry?” Jack asked him a while later.
“Nah,” he said.
“Having trouble with the cleanup next door?” Jack asked, obviously trying to pin down the reason for Noah’s unusually quiet mood.
Noah lifted his eyes to Jack’s face. “I have a situation.”
“No kidding,” Jack said. He nodded to Noah’s glass. “You haven’t downed that water yet. And you don’t have much to say, either. Which is a first.”
Noah took a breath. “You know just about everyone around here, right?” he asked Jack.
“I’ve been around long enough to know plenty of people.”
“I have an issue to resolve. It’s not a confidence, but I really can’t talk about it.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to pry,” Jack said.
“It’s just that it’s…Well, it’s a custody issue. I’m trying to puzzle it out.”
Jack lifted his eyebrows. “You divorced?”
“Nah, it’s not my issue. It’s a friend’s.”
“Ah, I see. Hard to know how to help, I guess.”
“That would be it,” Noah said. “I feel helpless. That’s my least favorite feeling.”
“You haven’t had enough time around here to make your connections, figure out who’s going to be useful to your work,” Jack said. “That helping-people line of your work, I mean. I’m sure you’re good for some mighty powerful praying, but sometimes a man has to know who’s gonna pass him the ammunition.”
Noah had to chuckle. “You hit that right.”
“Friend of mine had some serious custody concerns a couple years back. There was a woman he was interested in and she was running from a dangerous ex. She had a kid with her and nowhere to turn. But my buddy had been fishing with this judge from Grace Valley and they were tight. That old judge—named Judge, by the way, like his folks knew the day he was born where he was headed. Anyway, that tough old bird, he didn’t like domestic violence. Irked him right down to his toes. He helped. So did my little sister, Brie—she’s a lawyer. She’s dealt with more than her share of domestic situations, not to mention her own divorce. She lives right next door to me and Mel. The judge and my sister helped my buddy out.”
“Really? And is the woman safe now?” Noah asked.
“I’d say so.” Jack smiled. “My buddy married her, had a baby with her. Everything got sorted out.”
“That’s good to know. Maybe I ought to go see this judge. Or talk to your sister. Maybe someone has some advice.”
“First off, why don’t you go back to the kitchen, have a chat with the other Preacher around here while he slices and dices. He might head you in the right direction so you can help Ellie.”
“Ellie?”
“Noah, everyone seems to like you fine, but you don’t have all that many close friends yet. If it isn’t Ellie and it isn’t me, the person’s not from around here.” He gave the counter a wipe. “Go talk to Preacher. He’s real good at confidences. He’d have his tongue cut out before he’d give up your secrets, but he’s candid about his own. And he knows everything. He gets on that computer of his and gets himself an education about every issue under the sun. He’s one smart critter. And awful helpful.”
“Think he’d mind? Even if I can’t really discuss the particulars of this problem?”
“Noah, most folks around here would jump in to help a neighbor, but Preacher is one of a kind. He might be built like a refrigerator and look scary as hell, but he’s the sweetest man I know. He’d do anything in the world to help. Go on back. Then I’ll give you some dinner.”
Noah didn’t see Ellie all day on Sunday and didn’t expect to. The way they had left it, he was planning to drive with her to take her kids back to Redway to their stepfather’s house. He was hoping that if she had support, it might modify the jerk’s behavior.
But that wasn’t the way it worked out. He walked down to her rented room at three that afternoon, but she wasn’t there. Her deadline for getting her kids back was four and her car was already gone. He waited around awhile in case she came back looking for him, then at close to four he went back to his RV. At six he and Lucy grabbed a bite to eat at Jack’s, hung around for a while, then walked down the block just to see if her car was back yet.
It wasn’t. He worried briefly that she hadn’t taken them back to her ex-husband’s house at all. Frankly, if he were Ellie, he might not have. The temptation to flee must be overwhelming. He went back to his RV, knowing he wouldn’t sleep all night without knowing.
At nine, he walked down the street again, but this time he left Lucy behind. The summer sun had set and people turned in early in this little town, but her car was not yet parked in front of the Fitch house. There was a single light on inside the big house and an outside light at the top of the garage stairs, but her room was dark. Noah sat on the stairs that led to her rented room and waited.
About thirty minutes later, he heard the engine of her PT Cruiser as she came into town. She pulled up in front of the house and parked. He heard the car door slam; her feet were quiet and slow on the driveway that led to the garage.
Deep in thought, she didn’t see him until she was about twenty feet away. She stopped. He stood. The light from the top of the stairs illuminated him. Still sheathed in semidarkness, she approached another ten feet and stopped again. Finally, in a very soft voice that didn’t sound like Ellie, she asked, “What are you doing here?” She took a couple more steps toward him. She looked different. Oh, the clothes were Ellie—tight jeans, snug top. But her makeup was gone, her big hair pulled back severely into a ponytail. She looked so young. Sweet. And so vulnerable.
“I was waiting for you,” he said. He came down the steps and stood in front of her. “I wondered how it went. If everything was okay.”
“It’s okay,” she said in a voice that sounded weak and beaten. “They’ll be all right.”
“Was it terrible? Were they very upset?”
He saw her shake her head and there was only silence for a moment.
“Ellie,” Noah said, “did you get them back on time?”
She nodded. She bit her lower lip, looked down and didn’t say anything more.
“Did he give you any trouble?”
She shook her head. Then she said, “Well, there was the usual. He told them to go to their rooms, get ready for bed and stay there. Ready for bed, at four o’clock. But I made sure they had eaten before I took them back, so if he doesn’t give them dinner, they won’t be hungry. Then again, if he does give them dinner and they can’t eat it, there could be a different kind of problem. I couldn’t tell him, though…that they’d eaten.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “He seems to be always looking for ways to get to them and it would be just like him to give them a big dinner and insist they eat every bite, even though they can’t. But there’s not much I can do to control that. He’ll do what he’ll do.”
“You’ve been crying.”
“Some,” she admitted.
“Since four o’clock?” he asked, an ache creeping into his chest. When she didn’t answer him, he said, “I was worried about you. About you and your kids.”
“I never thought about that,” she said. “That you’d worry. I went to my friend’s house. Phyllis—the lady who owns the duplex. I just wanted to talk to someone who understood the whole mess.”
He gave her a moment. Where there is despair, let me offer hope…“That probably helped.” He saw her nod. “Would you like to talk about it now?”
“I’m pretty worn out.”
“Would it help to pray about it?” he asked. “I could—”
And she laughed a little, shaking her head. “If it’s all the same to you—”
“Sometimes it really does help,” he said.
“Not today,” she said. Then she sniffed. “Look, I’ll be fine in the morning. I just need some rest. I’m sorry if you were worried.”
“I didn’t mean to put that on you—I have no business waiting for you to get home. You’re an adult. I can’t explain—it’s just that I felt for them. The kids. And you—I just wanted to know you were okay.”
“Well, I’m okay, Noah. And the kids will get by. We talked about how we had to accept the way things are for a little while longer. We sang songs all the way to Redway in the car, just to keep their minds off things. I only had to put up with Arnie for three or four minutes, just long enough for him to tell me I’d better remember who’s calling the shots here.” She groaned in the back of her throat. “Maybe I should go back to him. Could I do that? Stay with him for the ninety days so I could watch over the kids? Then leave with them after the time’s up? Legally? Could that work?”
Noah felt a surge of anger rise up in him at the very thought of Arnie touching her, putting his hands on her, telling her what to do. In that instant he knew he’d lose his mind if she did that. “You can’t do that,” he said, and then he asked himself who he thought he was to tell her what she could do. “Arnie might trip you up somehow, make it worse. You’re doing what the court asked. Um, listen, I did some checking this afternoon—there’s a woman lawyer in town. Jack—the guy who owns the bar—his sister is a lawyer and she lives here.”
She sighed heavily. “I can’t afford a lawyer.”
“She might be willing to talk to you for free. If you explained. If you told her the cheapskate preacher doesn’t pay worth a damn. I mean, maybe she can’t build a case or go to court on your behalf without a fee, but—”
“Noah, stop. I’ve talked to lawyers…”
“I could give you a loan. Long-term. Interest free.”
She tilted her head. “Don’t do this,” she barely whispered. “Leave me some pride. I got us into this, I’ll get us out.”
“Ellie, there’s no shame in a helping hand….”
“I just need some rest. I didn’t sleep at all last night. Once I have some sleep, things will look better in the morning. I’ll be able to think straight.”
Noah pulled a rumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and held it toward her. “Well, sleep on this. Her name is Brie Valenzuela. I just met her. Very nice woman.” He shrugged. “According to Preacher, the cook, she’s been known to help neighbors. She helped him once.”
“But they all know each other.”
“Just take it. It’s Mel’s sister-in-law, Ellie.”
She took the paper and said, “You didn’t tell them all about—”
“I didn’t tell anyone anything. I just said I had a friend with a difficult custody situation that, as far as I could tell, was diabolical. I said I knew someone who could use some help.”
“They’ll all figure it out,” she said, her voice tired.
“That’s not the most important thing,” he argued.
“I have to go to bed now. So I can work in the morning.”
Helplessly, he said, “Is there anything I can do to help? Right now?”
“Yeah, boss. You can let me get up the stairs and shake this off. This isn’t your problem.”
Oh, but it was, he thought. It wasn’t that he took on pain and suffering like an addict. He barely knew her and yet he was completely enmeshed in this crisis; his throat ached from remembering the sound of the children’s voices when they were in his backseat. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry to get in your business. Sleep well.”
He walked around her and down the driveway. “That’s nice, though,” she said to his back. “Nice to have someone care. Thanks for that.”
Noah found himself wondering why Ellie hadn’t slept last night. He would have imagined having her kids with her, so close, all in one big bed, would have given her comfort, peace of mind. Was she completely wigged out with stress? Fear? Confusion?
Where there is sadness, let me bring joy….
Noah realized with some embarrassment that he wanted to hold her and comfort her, whisper all the right words that would bring her peace of mind. He wanted to be the one to get her through this. To rescue her. To put his arms around her, protect her and bring contentment where there was fear and pain. Hope. He would show her hope where there was hopelessness. For it is in giving that we receive….
But this was not his job. He was not her minister. He was her boss.
He shook his head, trying to shake away the impulse that was all wrong for the circumstances. It was just that he’d been too alone for too long. It wasn’t just since Merry had passed, it was before and after that. There had been women, but nothing lasting, no one to whom he could really give himself except for that all-too-brief time he had his wife. He needed to get beyond that.
Ellie would probably be happier with a hundred-dollar bill than an offer to pray with him. Why didn’t he know that? He’d always known things like that! Anyone who could go to skid row with a Bible in one hand and a grocery sack full of peanut-butter sandwiches in the other knew when it was appropriate to offer spiritual assistance and when it was time to just be a friend.
He’d gotten himself in deep. And fast. Well, that happened to counselors, he knew that—it was a hazard of the profession. But he had fallen into her problems like a drunk into a shot glass. He took them on, worried them to death, worked at finding a solution. He liked happily ever after, even if he didn’t exactly have an acquaintance with it right now.
He would have to separate himself from this situation, be objective, remember his job, his particular skills, his role.
He’d better back off, before he did more harm than good.
Come Monday morning, Noah had a headache. He’d tossed and turned, suffering through deep thoughts that ranged from his spiritual commitment and his job here, to Ellie and her problems, to missing Merry. He wished he had a woman in his life, he thought. Talk about hopelessness. Nothing can keep you up all night like worry and self-pity.
But when he finally made it to the church office at eight in the morning, he heard movement and soft humming. When he went to the upstairs bathroom, he found Ellie painting away, the little bathroom almost done. She wasn’t wearing makeup this morning. Her hair was clipped in the back, but fell in a shiny curtain down her back—she’d straightened it somehow. Instead of her tight jeans, she wore some khaki things that tied right below the knees. And his painting shirt. She looked about fifteen.
She turned and smiled at him. “Morning,” she said. “Sleep in?”
“This is my usual time,” he said.
She laughed. “Yeah, I know. Just giving you crap. I slept like a dead woman last night and thought I’d get an early start.”
“You did?” he asked, rather stunned. When last he’d seen her, she was a crying wreck. He hadn’t slept. And she’d been part of the reason.
“I did. I was worn out. But then I woke up early and thought, why not just go for it. I didn’t bother fixing up at all—I figured no one would see me but you and the paint.” Then she smiled again.
“You seem in a very good mood,” he observed.
“So much better. Really, you can’t let yourself get tired out. It’s bad all around.”
“What kept you from sleeping the night before? Worry? Upset?”
“No,” she said, laying her roller in the pan. “Oh, I’m worried. I try not to let that take over, since worry isn’t going to help anything. But I had my kids with me.” Her eyes lit up. “I snuggled them all night, listened to all their sleeping noises, smelled them fresh out of the shower, and just couldn’t shut my eyes no matter how hard I tried. Knowing I wouldn’t see them for a week and probably wouldn’t get another overnight, I—” She shook her head. “Like a stupid ninny, I was up all night just holding them and watching them sleep. No wonder I wasn’t any good at taking them back on Sunday.”
And he thought, wait a minute! You have all the same problems! Nothing has improved just by sleeping! What the hell…?
“Are you all right?”
“I have a slight headache,” he said.
“Did you take something?” she asked.
“No. It’ll probably pass.”
“Then you must want to have a headache. Right?” she asked, lifting her pretty eyebrows.
“You actually look better without makeup. Without the big hair. And you’re not six feet tall, after all.”
“Please!” she admonished. “Nothing you say is going to make me look like some Amish woman. Besides, all that curly hair is mine—I’m stuck with it. Sometimes I straighten it, but it’s way too much trouble. And I know it would make your life easier if I was really butt ugly and asexual, but I’m here to work, not make your life easier.”
He tilted his head. “Excuse me, but isn’t the job of a pastor’s assistant designed to make the pastor’s life easier?”
“No, Your Worship. It’s to assist. And I am. And I will. And I will look good if I can, thankyouverymuch. So why the headache? Drink too much last night?”
“Think too much, more likely. Listen, you don’t have to tell me if it’s none of my business, but how are you so well adjusted after just a little sleep? You were kind of…kind of…”
“Messed up over the kids last night?” she finished for him. “Yeah, I know. I admit, it gets to me. And no matter how well I sleep, I hate it. This shouldn’t be happening to them. I mean, it shouldn’t be happening to me, either, but I can take about anything. It’s them hurting that tears me up. I think people who hurt children are going to burn in hell.”