The Vigil (15 page)

Tears gathered in my eyes, turning the Bible in my hand into a fuzzy blue blob. A ‘thank you' in a voice I hardly recognized eked out my quivering lips.

Chuck smiled. “The pamphlet is for our next Bible study class if you're interested.”

Not able to trust my voice, I nodded.

He stood and I followed. “Cheryl, would you like to meet again?”

“Can I think about it before making another appointment?” I didn't want to take up his time until I'd processed all he said.

“That's fine. Just call my secretary if you decide you'd like to. I'm here for you.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You're also welcome to come to our services tomorrow. Debra and I would love to have you worship with us.”

“Thanks, Chu....er...Pastor Chuck.”

His cheeks reddened as he laughed out loud and shook his head. “For heaven's sake, Cheryl, you've seen me in my underwear. I think you can call me Chuck.”

Laughter bellowed from my gut. The heaviness I'd lived with for so long disappeared. I loved being free from the trappings of my emotions.

 

****

 

Driving to Lafayette, windows down, warm air blowing through my hair, gave me time to think about what Chuck had said. He'd gotten over the bindings of his past and allowed God to work through his life. Maybe it was time I did the same.

What would Annie be like today? Did she even know I'd stood at her bedside, painted her nails? Guess it didn't really matter if she knew or not. I did. And being with her had freed me from some of the crazy guilt twinges that plagued me for losing touch with her. Seeing her pale face with the angular lines helped remind me that she was real. A breathing person. One still married to Beau.

The shrill chirp of my cellphone rang as I navigated the car into an open spot near the front door.

A quick glance at my screen confirmed an unknown number. “Hello.”

“Miss Cheryl, hello, this is Steven. Are you coming to my game this afternoon?”

Drats, I'd forgotten about Steven's game and my promise to consider going. “What time does it start?”

“Well, today's a double-header. The first one is getting ready to start in about twenty minutes. The next one should be in about two hours, tops.”

“Sorry, buddy, I won't be able to make the first one. I'm at Bayou Pines visiting your mama.”

I waited for his response, and when I didn't get one as expected, I wondered if he'd heard me. “Steven, you still there?”

“Yes, ma'am.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Tell Mama I said hi, and I'll see her after the games.”

“Will do. I should be at the park in time for your next game. So I'll see you then.”

He hurried through the directions on what diamond he'd be playing on and hung up before I could ask if his father was there.

When I entered Annie's room, the coolness of the blowing air conditioner brushed along my bare arms. With a gentle stroke along Annie's arm, I let her know I stood next to her. “Annie, hello, honey. It's Cheryl. How's it going today?”

Oxygen tubing ran around her face and into her nostrils. Had she had difficulty breathing?

I sat next to her bed and told her what Steven had said. “You have a fine boy there, Annie. You and Beau have done a good job with him. He's playing a double-header today at the park. Would it be OK with you if I watched his game? It's just that Beau doesn't have much family left in town, and it's too far for your family to drive from Lake Charles to come to his games every Saturday. So I thought I'd go cheer him on. I'll yell a few times for you. How's that?

Annie remained with the same peaceful expression she'd worn last week. Only this week the tubing interrupted the smooth lines of her porcelain skin. Was she aware of my presence? If so, what was she thinking? Was I trespassing on her life?

I wanted to be her friend again. I wanted to believe she could hear me. I pulled the
Southern Living
magazine I'd bought this morning and began reading the articles to her, describing the elegant table settings, and lush summer gardens. After an hour, no detail had been overlooked. I'd shared the entire magazine with her. I gave her a good-bye kiss on her forehead and told her I'd be back next week.

As I stood to leave, her door opened. The shadow of a man entered the room and as the light bathed his face, I recognized him. “Gerald?”

Annie's brother stepped further into the room and stared. “Cheryl? Cheryl, is it still Broussard?”

I extended my hand. “It is.”

Instead of taking my hand, he pulled me into his arms and gave me a bear-hug squeeze. “It's so good to see you again. What…are you doing here? I thought you left town.”

“I did. I'm back.”

“I see.” He walked to Annie's bedside and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. “The nurses said she's developed some fluid on her lungs. They've added the oxygen and are giving her breathing treatments.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. I wondered.” I walked toward the door. “I was just leaving, Gerald. It's good to see you again.”

“Hey, let me walk you to your car, and then I'll come back and sit with Annie.”

“Sure.” He followed me to the door and out into the hallway. Gerald was four years older than Annie and had been our protector when we were in grade school. He'd made sure no one gave us a hard time.

“Still looking out for Annie, aren't you?”

He slid his hands into his pockets and walked with his head lowered. “Yeah, guess I am. I moved to Shreveport a few years ago, so I don't get here as much as I'd like, but I come when I can. “

I paused and turned toward him. “I'm sure she appreciates your visits.”

“I wish I knew if she knows I'm even here. But if she does, I know she appreciates your visits, too. It's nice of you to come see her. Ya know, Cheryl, she tried to contact you when she and Beau started seeing each other.”

“She did?”

“Yep, she wanted to know if it was OK with you. She valued your friendship and hated that you two drifted apart. She knew how crazy you'd been about Beau.”

I sighed. “That was Annie. So considerate.” I swallowed the rising lump. “It's not fair. She's too good for this to happen to her.”

“She didn't deserve this. Neither did Beau and Steven.” Emotion slurred his words. Moisture glistening in his eyes reflected in the afternoon sun.

“Gerald, do you think she'd be OK with me going to Steven's game this afternoon?”

He laid his hand on my shoulder. “She would love for you to be at Steven's game. If she couldn't go, I can't think of anyone else she'd rather have there.”

I stared at the crack in the sidewalk and waited until the emotion rising in my throat settled. When I finally found the courage to look at Gerald, his smile warmed me. “Thanks. I needed to hear that. Now go sit with your amazing sister.” I nudged him on the arm.

He chuckled. “I will.”

 

****

 

I drove through Toucoin's Park negotiating the curves to the back of the park to the Little League fields. I swore the last time I was here, I'd never return. Yet here I was. Another never-say-never lesson learned.

So many spots throughout the park brought back a cadre of memories. Did Beau remember the last time we were at this park together? The memory so vivid, my gut tightened thinking about that day, our last day of high school, and I'd met Beau here. He waited for me next to one of the picnic tables near the lake so handsome in his navy and gold football jersey, the number seventeen emblazoned on his back and sleeves. His dark hair feathered back in smooth layers, framed the unbridled joy on his face when he saw me approach. The tenderness of his brown eyes enveloped me, and I have never felt such acceptance and love since.

On that day, I'd turned down his marriage proposal. The rejection tangled in the warmth of those brown eyes continued to haunt me.

I drove around the lake and passed
the
picnic table. The tree next to it drew me, so much so that I had to stop. As I walked toward the mighty oak, I tried to imagine how different my life would have been had I said yes all those years ago.

Looking up at the large trunk, I found what I'd come for.
B & C
carved into the hefty bark. Beau's twinkling eyes after he'd finished the task filled my thoughts. So proud.
There, future generations will know all about our love.
He'd said those words with such confidence that we'd be together forever.

Regret seemed such a useless emotion especially as I've realized things are the way they are and our stories have made us who we are. I'm not sure Beau and I would still be married had I said yes at eighteen.

Certain things were becoming very clear.

I needed to leave here.

He needed to stay and marry Annie. Plain and simple.

It had not been our time. I ran my fingers over the rough bark and the carved letters and then turned away from the towering tree and walked back to my car feeling more confident than I had in years.

The parking lot at the last baseball diamond in the park held a throng of cars, SUVs, and trucks of every make and model. I parked my car and headed to the stands.

Beau wasn't hard to spot. He was the dad at the end of the row cheering with whoops and hollers rivaling any rapid, die-hard Saints fan. After all, Saints and LSU fans are the icons of Louisiana sports loyalty. If Louisiana had a pro-baseball team, I'm sure they'd get the same devotion.

“C'mon, Steven, take it home!”

I slid onto the bench next to him and glanced at the scoreboard. “Tied. Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. It's the bottom of the ninth. Bases are loaded. Two outs and Steven is at bat. You've got good timing, girl.”

I smiled. Timing had nothing to do with it. If he'd only known where I'd stopped before coming here. “Glad I made it in time.”

We watched as Steven swung at the first ball the pitcher fired his way and missed.

“Strike one!” The umpire yelled.

“C'mon, buddy. You can do this.” I barely heard Beau's words as he stopped yelling and focused on the drama unfolding below us. Even though he remained seated, his knee bounced up and down. “C'mon. C'mon.”

“Strike two.”

A collective
ahh
spread throughout the stands.

Steven, looking so much like his father, wiped his hands on his uniform pants and then tightened his grip on the bat.

“C'mon, buddy. C'mon.” Beau spoke into his clasped hands.

Whack.
The ball connected with the bat and sailed past the right fielder's head to the far end of the field.

Beau and I jumped from our seats. “Run! Run!” we yelled in unison.

Everyone in the stands cheered and the noise melted in one shout for Steven to run.

When he zipped around third base and headed for home the outfielder retrieved the ball and threw to the cutoff man. Steven closed in on home as the ball flew toward the plate. The catcher, in his perfect catcher pose, awaited the ball. As though the action happened in slow motion, Steven lay back and let his feet slide forward in front of him while the ball dashed passed him. The ball stopped inside the catcher's mitt seconds after Steven's feet crossed the plate.

“Safe!” the umpire yelled.

The crowd's volume tripled, something I didn't think possible.

Beau jumped up and down. “He did it. He did it.”

I jumped up and down.

We laughed loud. We laughed from deep places that had forgotten the pure joy of laughing, and over something as simple as a child's baseball game.

But to Steven this was
the
world and something he sorely needed after the last few months—well, years—of his life.

“C'mon. Let's go down closer to the field.” Beau guided me off the stands.

Steven's teammates lifted him onto their shoulders and pranced him around the field.

Beau watched with a grin. A prouder papa could not be found.

When the boys came back toward the team dugout, Steven spied his father and me. “Dad, I did it!”

“Yes, you did, son. Good job.”

“Miz Cheryl, you came! Did you see my homerun?”

“I did. You were remarkable.”

Several parents of Steven's team members congratulated Steven. Many patted Beau on the back and asked about Annie. I stepped back and watched the scene. Beau had amazing community support, but with work, trips to sit with Annie, and trying to keep Steven's life as normal as possible for a ten-year-old, he'd not had time to keep close friends. Like me, the friends he'd had in school had either left town or were busy with their own lives. So the community was what he had, and they'd rallied around him as best they could.

The short time Beau had with Annie seemed filled with more of the things that mattered. I was thankful he'd had those years and the memories. A part of me battled the pangs of jealousy. I wanted those things, too. But I realized with blinding clarity that I'd passed that opportunity with Beau many years ago.

I was grateful for the second chance I'd been given with Mama and accepted the contentment that I could be Beau's and Steven's friend during their time of need. Those things had been more than I imagined possible.
Thank you, Lord.

 

 

 

 

Dix-Sept

 

Later that afternoon, after Steven's game I gathered Mr. Bojangles and walked the few blocks to Mawmaw's house. He ran circles around my feet during the entire walk. Was he excited about being outdoors or getting the treat he knew Mawmaw had waiting for him?

“Hello.” I walked into the back door. “Mawmaw?” Silence quickened my pulse. I ventured further into the house. “Mawmaw?” I raised my voice.