Halos (28 page)

He cradled her hand with his palm. It was crazy. But maybe some of her had rubbed off, because he kept looking for signs of revival. Ben had made her breathe, then the machine, and now she kept breathing. What was to say she couldn’t recover? What did science know; or medicine? What did anyone know for sure? He was back in the hope zone, and this time he’d try to stay there.

Ben stood up. “You want to go home and clean up?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll stay here.”

Dave said, “It wouldn’t hurt to give us a turn.”

Steve looked up. He had been territorial. On second thought a shower and breakfast might be nice. Unless she … Fear gripped him. Couldn’t he resist it a minute or two? His trust was pathetic. Maybe it was time to develop it. “Okay.” He stood up. “Call me if there’s any change.”

If she stopped breathing they would not resuscitate. He would not be there to give her breath as Ben had.

Dave said, “Go.”

He nodded. By the time he reached the truck, he wanted to run back in. He forced his key into the lock and turned it in the ignition. He left the lot and drove home, went inside, and called the hospital.

“She’s still breathing, Steve.” The ICU nurse had called Dave to the phone and his tone was impatient. “Have faith.” Easy for Dave to say. His life may not have been spectacular, but he’d certainly had fewer challenges.

“I’m getting in the shower now. Let it ring if you call.”

“All right.” Dave hung up.

Steve knew how he sounded. At any other time they would tease him mercilessly. But as the water washed the fatigue from his back, he realized grimly there was nothing funny about falling in love with a dying woman. There was something diabolically macabre in that unless … unless it was all he could do for her.

The water ran over his face, and he held his breath. Everything said she was dying, and yet his newfound hope did not relinquish its hold.
Live, Alessi
. He scrubbed his hands over his face.
Lord, let her live
.

It was easier now to ask the impossible. If she died, it would not be because he hadn’t asked. The phone rang and he dropped the soap. It hit his small toe and sent a pain up his foot, but he hardly noticed as he scrambled out, grabbing a towel and running for the kitchen wall.

He grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. “What happened?”

“Steve?” It sounded like Karen’s voice.

His heart was wedged in his larynx, and for a moment he couldn’t speak. “Yeah.”

“I’m in the driveway with a casserole, but I saw your truck and thought I’d let you know I was coming in.”

He gripped the towel to his chest. “Unless you want to see me in the buff, you’d better let me get back in the shower.”

“By all means, get.” She laughed heartily.

Very funny. Everyone’s a comedian, as Dad used to say. Steve slipped on the wet, soapy linoleum, picked up the bar of soap, and climbed back into the water he’d left running. He stayed in long enough for Karen to drop her casserole and leave. But when he got out, toweled dry, and dressed, she was waiting still.

Thirty-Seven

D
O YOU HAVE A MINUTE?” KAREN SAID.

Steve finger-forked his hair and said, “What’s the casserole?”

“Sausage and egg.”

“Perfect. Grab a plate.” He dished two servings and set them on the table as he had with Alessi the few wonderful times they’d breakfasted together. He murmured a blessing, raised his fork, and took a bite. “Thanks. You saved me making something.” The sausage was savory and the eggs fluffy with a browned cheesy crust. He washed the swallow down with the juice Karen had set beside his plate.

“Steve, my heart’s troubled.”

“You should try mine.” He couldn’t believe he’d said that, given her a peek inside him. Alessi rubbing off again.

“I’m terribly concerned for Alessi. Breaks my heart to see her like that. But the burden that’s been laid on me is … Carl.”

Steve stopped eating.

“I know it’s a horrible hateful thing he’s done. But with everyone else in vigil for Alessi, the Lord’s charged my heart with Carl.”

He could not believe she was telling him this. The casserole turned in his stomach and left his mouth sour. She caught him with her eyes, and while he didn’t look away, he could not find words to respond.

Finally he ground out, “Why are you telling me?”

“Because I’m hitting a wall.”

Steve got up and walked to the end of the kitchen, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. “You can’t expect me to help.” He met her careworn eyes. “Carl can go to hell for all I care.” His own vitriol surprised him.

Karen stared, no doubt uncertain she’d heard him right. But he meant it. “Steve, I …”

“Don’t lecture me, Karen. I know it’s wrong. But so help me, I mean it. I even want it.”

“Well, that explains the wall.” She took a bite and chewed slowly. She was going to sit at his table and ask him not to block her prayers for Carl? Was that how it worked? One person’s hatred blocking the flow of grace? Weight like a lead apron pulled on his shoulders. Could someone stop the prayers for Alessi? Or did God just make a judgment call over conflicting requests?

“You should finish your breakfast.”

Steve looked at his plate and sat down obediently. But he could not take the food in.

She forked up the last bite of hers. “Unforgiveness devours joy. Gives the devil a foothold.”

He wasn’t the one declaring there was no devil in Charity. “I can’t help it.”

Karen dabbed her mouth with the napkin. “You don’t have to feel like forgiving, Steve. It’s a choice.”

Now she sounded like Alessi.
“I made all the choices that put me here. It’s no one’s fault but mine.”
She couldn’t possibly still think that. She couldn’t think anything.

Karen didn’t prod. But he sensed Alessi, forgiving him for all the hurtful things he’d said and done.

Karen spoke softly. “She wouldn’t want you bound up.”

A second lead apron almost staggered him. Would Alessi forgive Carl? She wasn’t able to. She couldn’t want one way or the other. Could he do it for her? “They’ve removed the life support.” His voice broke.

Karen leaned forward and took his hand. “You love her, don’t you?”

He swallowed the pain. “Yes.”

Karen sighed. “We’re praying hard. Storming the gates.”

His eyes teared, but he didn’t bother to block them. “I wish I could believe it would make a difference. I keep trying to hope….”

“You don’t have to hope. You love.” She squeezed his hands. “Faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love.”

A tear broke free and sallied down his cheek. Was it true? Could he simply love her and not keep fighting to find a faith deep enough or hope strong enough? If he let himself love her until she died, it would hurt more than anything he’d known.
The greatest of these is love
.

Who else in Charity would give her that? Who else could? Her own family had said pull the plug without even seeing her. He closed his eyes and fresh tears pressed through. Karen got up and hugged his shoulders. It was such a motherly thing to do, it cut him close.

He dropped his chin. “I’m not proficient in the love department.”

Karen laughed softly. “You just need the right inspiration.”

He swiped the tears from his face and sniffed. “I have to get back.” She patted his shoulder. “You tell Ben and Dave this casserole’s here.”

He nodded, then hugged her. “Thank you.”

She smiled. “You go pour it on, Steve. Then see what God can do.”

He wiped his face on his sleeve, grabbed his jacket, and went out to the truck. As Karen went to her own car, he backed out and headed for the hospital. Every moment hung swollen and suspended. The longing for Alessi’s face filled his stomach more completely than the eggs and sausage. Ben and Dave had had their turn.

He parked and jogged in, took the elevator to ICU, and strode to her cubicle. The men were talking softly to each other, and Ben sat on the stool. Steve tapped his shoulder. “This is my dance.”

Ben looked up, then stood, comprehension dawning. Let them see it; he didn’t care.

“Karen has a casserole at the house.”

They shared a look. Ben simply said, “Okay.” And they shuffled out.

Then Steve had her to himself. He sat down on the stool and took her hand, brought it to his lips with a groan. “I love you, Alessi.”

No response, of course.

“Your crazy hair, your long limbs, the way you look in my clothes. Your innocence, your expectation, your wonder and your dreams. I love the way you look in my camera lens and the way you talk and the way you want to see things. I love your faithfulness and your friendship.”

He kissed each finger one by one. “I love that you love Moll’s pot roast and you got a discount out of Stacie. I love how you see what others ignore.” He kissed her palm and pressed it to his cheek. “I love you.”

He leaned over and kissed her lips. He was no Prince Charming. Her eyes didn’t flutter open and look into his. The pain of his situation rushed in, and he sank back with a shudder in his chest. Could he do it? Could he love her until she drew her final breath? Could he give her what she’d lacked when it mattered? He stood up and paced.

Why was he even thinking that way? What difference did it make to her? Karen had some romantic idea of how the world worked. How God worked. But that wasn’t the point. There must be a reason he loved her, because it sure didn’t make sense in any normal scheme of things.

He stood over Alessi and took her hand again. “I want to show you all the things you haven’t seen. I want to smell the pines with you and hear the bugling elk. I want to sleep under the stars with wolves howling at the moon. I want you to see my waterfall.” He kissed her knuckles.

“I know you’ve only known me a short time, and for most of it I was a jerk. And I guess you know I didn’t make a very good fiancé the first time. I probably won’t be the greatest husband. But I want to marry you, Alessi.” He could not believe he was proposing to her like this, but what difference did it make?

If he never got an answer, it wasn’t for not asking. He’d done his part; now it was up to her. Hardly fair, but what else was new? He never pretended to be a great catch. Alessi knew exactly what he was. She’d seen inside him from the start.

He got up and walked, went to the machine for coffee, where Moll surprised him with a boxed lunch. “How’s she doing?”

He could have said no different, but “Hanging in there” came out instead.

“She’s undaunted, that’s for sure.” Moll’s cheeks reddened. “She sure gave me what for.”

“Alessi told you off?” He couldn’t begin to imagine it, though he’d been chastised himself. Just not in the normal sense.

“More like killing me softly with her love.”

The lump filled his throat as he nodded silently. “Yeah. She could do that.”

Ever since Moll’s daughter was killed on the highway, hitting a deer in her VW bug, she’d been gruff and bitter. Now it looked like years had left her face. “I’ve been praying. First time in years.”

Steve smiled bleakly. “Thanks.” He accepted the box lunch from Moll and returned to the cubicle. He paced and he sat, and Alessi never moved. Her breaths came quietly, but they came. Her heart beat weakly, but it beat. Dr. Deklin checked in and went out again.

Steve stopped beside the bed. “Lots of people are praying for you.” And one at least was praying for Carl. He didn’t want to be a wall, an impediment to God’s grace. He could not feel compassion for him, not with Alessi on the brink. But could he choose? Could he forgive for Alessi’s sake and his own?

She should be the one. She would do it better. Alessi knew how to dig deep and find compassion and understanding. She’d done it with him. He looked down at her. “If you can hear me wherever you are, would you come back now?” Oh, that was loving. That was the old Steve. No, that was the real Steve. He forked his fingers into his hair.

“Look, I know I said a lot of things, and you might not want any part of them. So if you’re scared to come back ’cause I’m here, don’t worry about it. You can say no.” He hung his head. Right. Just speak up, Alessi.

He sat down and slumped against the bedrail. He had hardly touched Moll’s lunch. It wasn’t food he wanted. It was some sign, any sign from Alessi. He pressed his hands to his face.

Dr. Deklin came in and informed him the hospital was writing off her bill.

“What about her uncle?”

“He assured us he was not financially responsible for her in any way.”

Steve shook his head. But he had the right to end her life?

“Steve, you’ll have to decide on funeral arrangements.” She spoke gently as always. “You won’t have any assistance from the family.”

Funeral arrangements. Was that the best he’d do for her? “What would you do if no one was here?”

“Humane cremation.”

He ground the butt of his hands into his eyes. “I’ll handle it.”

He brought Alessi’s palm to his cheek and closed his eyes. He was tired, but he’d heard that most people died at night. If he slept with her hand on his face, would he feel her leave?
Lord, let me say good-bye. If that’s the best you can do, at least let me say good-bye
. He gave in to the weariness of grief and dreamed of waking up to find his mother gone. He jolted awake in the dark, but Alessi still breathed.

He whispered, “I love you,” and went back to sleep.

Pastor Welsh opened the door, surprised to see Nita Miravella. His day had been one weary procession of people needing his direction when he had no direction to give. Nita was a Friday night participant, a front-row girl, who experienced the Spirit in an enthusiastic way. Whatever she needed from him, she probably had in greater degree herself.

“It’s late for you to be out, Nita.” He had been up himself because sleep was an elusive foe, encumbered with dreams. But Madeline had succumbed hours ago, perhaps bouyed by the cluster of faithful women who upheld her now in spite of everything.

“I had to talk to you.”

The clock ticked loudly in the hall. “Do your parents know where you are?”

She shook her head, and color drained from her cheeks. “I need it to be like confession.”

He was not a priest. “I have no vows that contain that.”

“But can’t we just do it that way? I think I know where Carl is.”

The jolt almost staggered him. He took a shaky step backward to admit her. All day detectives had come by to see if they had seen or heard anything from Carl. Charity had been searched and patrolled, highways monitored, even the FBI alerted in case the boy crossed state lines.

But no one had seen anything of him. Now Nita thought she knew. He took her into his study. “Let me get Madeline.”

“No!”

“Nita, it’s not proper to be alone with you.”

“I don’t care. I can’t tell anyone but you, and you can’t tell anyone I told you.”

He swallowed. Her distress was real. She tensed. “I’ll leave.”

The threat was needless. He had to hear her out if there was even the smallest chance. “Tell me what you know.”

“Promise first.”

“Yes, Nita, I promise. No one will know you told me.” He was too weary to fight.

She swallowed, clasping her hands under her chin. “Carl has a secret place. It’s where he hid the car.”