When Heaven Weeps (29 page)

Jan had joined them in their enthusiasm and then hung up, feeling stretched at the seams. His mind had become a rope, pulled at by two women. Karen the lovely one, deserving of his love; Helen the unseemly one, suffocating him with her spells of passion. The craziness was enough to send any man to a psychiatrist's couch, he thought.

But that had been the least of it.

Jan had rushed home at five-thirty, found Helen gone and a note from Ivena on his fridge. She would be back in a couple of hours. But there was no word of Helen. He quickly showered while he waited for her return.

He'd dressed in the same black suit he'd worn on their last outing, but with a yellow tie this time. An hour had ticked by. Then two, while he paced the floor. And then he knew that she would not return, and his world began to crumble. He'd called Ivena, swallowing back the tears so that she couldn't hear.

Helen was missing. Helen was gone.

He brought the Cadillac to a halt in front of her house and climbed out. He still wore the black suit, less the tie. His shiny leather shoes crunched up Ivena's sidewalk, loud in the night. He would have to tell her everything—he could no longer walk around carrying these absurd emotions alone.

She greeted him quietly. “Hello, Jan. Please come in.”

He stepped past her, sat on the sofa, crossed his legs and lowered his head into his hands. A strong scent of flowers filled the room—perfume or potpourri perhaps. It was nearly suffocating.

“Ivena—”

“Why don't I get us some tea, Janjic. Make yourself comfortable.”

Ivena walked straight for the kitchen and returned with two cups of steaming tea. She put his on the lamp table at his elbow and sat in her favorite chair.

He looked white in the face and he ignored his tea. “Thank you. Ivena, there is something that I have to tell you. I really—”

“So, Janjic, I was not wrong about the
pitter
?”

He looked up, surprised. “No, you weren't.” He stood and paced three steps and then returned to his chair. “I don't know what's happening to me. This crazy idea for Helen to stay in my house wasn't the best.”

“You're upset, I can see. But don't take your frustration out on me. And if you must know, I approve.”

“You approve?”

“I do approve. I didn't at first, of course, when I first saw you looking at her, I thought you must be mad, being engaged to Karen as you are.”

He stared at her, unbelieving.

“But no, you weren't mad. You were simply falling for a woman and doing so rather hard.” She sipped her tea and set the saucer on the table. “So now you are in love with Helen.”

“I can't believe you're talking this way. It's not that simple, Ivena. I'm not just
in love
with Helen. How can I suddenly be
in love
with a woman? Much less this . . . this . . .”

“This improper woman? This tramp?”

“How could this possibly happen to me? I'm engaged to Karen!”

“I've been asking myself that same question, Janjic. For three days now I've asked it. But I believe it's beyond you. Not entirely, of course. But it is more than your making. You care for Karen, but do you love her?”

“Yes! Yes, I love Karen!”

“But do you love her the way you love Helen?”

“I'm not even sure I
do
love Helen. And what do you mean ‘the way'? Now there are different ways to love?” He immediately lifted a hand. “Don't bother answering. Yes, of course there are. But I'm no judge between them.”

Ivena sat quietly.

“You should be outraged,” he said, and truly
he
felt outraged. Outraged at his confusion and angry at Helen's disappearance. “And how do you suppose that I love Helen?”

“With passion, Janjic. She takes your breath away, no?”

The words sounded absurd, spoken out loud like that. It was the first time the matter had been presented so plainly. But there was no doubting the matter. “Yes. Yes, that's right. And what kind of love is that?”

Ivena smiled. “Well, she's quite a stunning woman, under all the dirt. It's not so confusing really.”

He just looked at her for a minute. “I'm saying things that I shouldn't be saying, and you are counseling me as if this were a high school crush.”

Ivena didn't respond.

“She had an impossible grip on my heart from the first, you know. I didn't look for it,” Jan said.

Ivena only nodded, as if to say,
I know, Janjic. I know.

“And there's something else you should know. I took her out. Before I brought her here on Sunday night we went to the Orchid for dinner. I didn't ask, mind you. She asked
me!
She'd laid out my suit—this suit.” He jabbed his breast, suddenly grinning at the memory. “It was incredible. I could hardly eat.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“She told me,” Ivena said with a slight smile.

“She did? She told you that I could hardly eat?”

Ivena nodded. “And she said that you excused yourself to the rest room to gather yourself because you were—how did she put it—coming apart at the seams, I think.”

“She told you
that?”

“It's true?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Maybe, but I can't believe she would tell you that. She picked that up?”

“She's a woman. You're a man. The love between you carries its own language. Love is impossible to hide, Janjic. And Helen is far more intelligent than you seem to realize.”

“You're right, she is.” Jan sat back and cradled his face with both hands. “So you know everything then. You know that I'm madly in love with her.” He said it and it felt good to say. He lowered his hands and leaned forward. “That I've never loved another creature with so much passion. That I can hardly think of anything but her. That every time I look into her eyes, my knees grow weak and my tongue feels thick. I can't breathe properly when she's in the room, Ivena.” He suddenly felt that way now, he thought. “My heart aches and fills my chest. I am—”

“I think I get the point, my young Serb.”

“And now she's gone back to him.”

Ivena lifted her porcelain cup and drank slowly, as if tasting her tea for the first time. She set the cup in her lap. “Yes. And it's not the first time.”

“What do you mean?”

“She went back the night you left for New York. Only for a few hours, but I could see it in her eyes.”

What was she saying? “You could see
what
in her eyes?”

“I could
smell
it. And she held her head in pain the next morning. I'm not an idiot, Janjic.”

Rage mushroomed in Jan's skull. He stood from his chair. “I swear if I ever . . . I'll kill that devil!”

“Sit, Janjic.”

“He's beating her, isn't he?” His face flushed with blood. “He's abusing her! How could she go back to him!”

“Sit, Janjic. Please sit down. I am not the enemy.”

He sat and buried his head in his hands. It was madness. It was more than madness now. It was horror. “And who
is
the enemy?” he asked.

“The thief who comes to steal and destroy,” she said.

Yes, of course. He knew that, but it made nothing easier.

“Do you think Father Micheal's love came out of his own heart?” Ivena asked.

“No.”

“Of course you don't, Janjic. You've told the whole world the same. Do you forget your own words?”

Jan looked at her. “No, I don't forget my own words. We're speaking of Helen here, not the priest. This isn't about fighting for our lives against some madman named Karadzic. This is about ridiculous emotions that are driving
me
insane!”

“And these emotions that are driving you insane, they are the same sentiments that put Father Micheal on the cross. They are the same that Christ himself showed. For God so loved the world, Janjic. Is this the love with which you love Helen?”

He stared at her stupidly.

“I swear, Janjic, you can be thickheaded at times. You are feeling the love of the priest; the love of Christ. It's not coming from your own heart. Have you ever considered the likelihood that you aren't meant to marry Karen? Then I'll tell you now, you can't marry Karen.”

“Because of this minor inconsistency with Helen? Don't be—”

“No! Because God wouldn't want you to marry Karen. It's better to break off now before you have a covenant with her. Or do you consider an engagement the same as a covenant marriage?”

“No.”

“Well then. You must follow this love God has placed in your heart for Helen. And you must do so without any offense to Karen.”

“How on earth can I pursue a relationship with an unbeliever?”

“Did God command Hosea to take Gomar? I'm not suggesting you marry the girl, anyway. But there is more here than meets the eye, Janjic. Consider it a word from God.”

It struck him as clearly as the mountain air in that moment. Could it be? He'd seen that brief vision of the flowered field and heard the weeping. Perhaps it was more than a casual act of God's grace to reveal it. Perhaps it was God's
intent
that he love Helen! And not just as a poor lost soul, but as someone his heart ached for.

The notion flooded Jan with a sudden sense of ease. It took the craziness out of his turmoil, lent him validity. Ivena must have seen the change in him because she was smiling.

“You think Helen is
meant
to be loved by me,” he said. “It's why you approve.”

“In as much as Christ loves the church, I think so.”

“And Christ loves the church with this mad, passionate emotion?”

Ivena stood and walked to the bookcase on the opposite wall. “Would you like to see something, Janjic?”

A blue vase holding a single flower rested on the third shelf. A brilliant white bloom with red-trimmed petals, the span of Jan's hand. She pulled the flower from the base and faced him like a schoolgirl presenting her carnation.

“Do you smell it?”

It was the strong fragrance he'd smelled walking in. “I smell something. Your perfume, I thought.”

“But I'm not wearing any perfume, Janjic.”

Jan stood and walked toward the flower. Immediately the scent strengthened in his nostrils.

“Now you smell it,” she said, smiling.

“That's impossible.”

“But true. It is a lovely scent, isn't it?”

“And it all comes from the one flower? Naturally?”

“Yes.”

Jan studied the petals. They seemed oddly familiar. She handed it to him and he held it up to the light.

“Where did you find this?”

“I'm growing them, actually. You like it?”

“It's stunning.”

“Yes. I think I may have stumbled across a new species. I've already given Joey one for analysis.”

“You don't know the name?” he asked, turning the flower in his hand. The petals were like satin. The scent reminded him of a very strong rose.

“No. They're the result of a rose graft.”

“Amazing.”

Ivena smiled wide, like a proud child. “Yes. The aroma is like love, Janjic. Unless a seed dies and falls to the ground it cannot bear fruit. But look at where it all leads. It's a sweet scent begging to be taken in. Not something you can just ignore, is it?”

Jan placed his nose near a petal and sniffed again. The flower's fragrance was so strong it brought water to his eyes. He returned it to the vase and retreated to his chair.

“So you think I should love Helen?”

He shook his head. “They'll blow their tops.”

“Who will?”

“Karen, for one. Roald, the leaders, the employees—everyone.”

“But you can't pretend. That would be worse.”

Then he remembered why he'd come here in the first place. “She's gone.”

Ivena turned. “She'll come back.”

“You're sure? How can you know that?”

“I can't. But she's a woman and I'm telling you, she'll be back.”

They sat and talked about what they should do then. Should they call the police? And tell them what? Jan said. That this girl named Helen had returned to her lover, which was not a good thing because Jan Jovic—yes, the famous author Jan Jovic—had a crush on her. But it wasn't a crush because it was God's love, which both was and wasn't like a crush. The same but different. Maybe. Yes, that would go over nicely.

In the end they agreed that they could do nothing else themselves. Not tonight at least. They would pray that God would protect Helen and reveal his love to her. And that Jan would hear God's voice and not run amok in his own emotions. Actually that last prayer was Ivena's, but Jan found himself agreeing with it. God knew that he was walking on new ground here. The grounds of love.

JAN NEARLY called in sick Thursday morning. Helen hadn't returned and he'd slept only three hours, half of it on the couch. In all honesty, he was sick, but it wasn't the kind of illness Karen would understand. At least not while it was directed at another woman. He finally dragged himself in at ten, if for no other reason than to save himself the agony of waiting.

The employees were looking at him with questioning eyes, he thought. They knew, they all knew. Their soft smiles and gentle frowns were saying so. The frowns he may have imagined, but then again maybe not. According to Betty's admission—which he was still trying to dismiss—they were practically laying odds on his sanity.

Karen bounded into his office within five minutes of his arrival, humming and moving to her tune. Thank goodness she was not so well connected with the gossip on the lower floors. He smiled with her as best he could, and listened patiently as she talked about her trip.

It had been a smashing success, by her telling; one to put in her portfolio. It was not only the reprint agreement with the publisher, it was eight—count them, eight—television appearances in the next two months and that was not including the tour to kick off the new edition. Jan was happy for her, and the news did distract him slightly. He found enough resolve to keep Karen in a state of general ambivalence about him, he thought.