All in One Place (24 page)

“So, not around the corner, then?”

“Not even in the neighborhood.” I had told him what I needed to on our little trip to Leslie's place. More than that was just
whining.

Jack turned into a paved parking lot, and I was spared more rehashing of the family history.

Large trees shadowed the empty park, edged by a waist-high hedge. During the day the trees would have offered welcoming shade.
Now that night had slipped over the sky, they created an intimate atmosphere.

A fountain gurgled from a small man-made lake in the middle of the park, the spray diffusing illumination from a spotlight.

“Do you want to sit here a minute?” he asked.

I hesitated. Sitting in the park with Jack, after dark. The equation was adding up to more than I might be ready for. But
neither was I ready for the evening to end. So I nodded, got out of the truck, and walked to an empty bench.

Jack was right behind me. He sat down, then leaned forward, man-style, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped
between them.

“I never knew about this park,” I said, leaning back against the rough wood of the bench, content, for now, to make simple
conversation.

“I used to come here with my friends after school and play baseball in that far diamond.” Jack pointed to an open space between
the trees. I saw a backstop and some old bleachers in the reflected light from the fountain. “Used to play Little League.”

“What position did you play?”

“Shortstop, which, for me at that age, was sort of like rubbing my nose in it.” He gave me an apologetic glance. “I was vertically
challenged for many of my formative years.”

“You're not too short now.”

“Thankfully, the formative years come to an end.”

I hugged my knees to my chest. Jack sat back and stretched out his long legs in front of him, crossing his booted feet at
the ankles. He folded his arms, the picture of a man content with his world.

“So, what do you want to talk about now?”

“We could discuss the difficulty of finding a radio station that plays your favorite songs,” Jack said quietly.

“That's where an iPod comes in.”

“Only if you care to figure out how to use it.”

“It's not as complicated as building a house.” I felt myself relax. Ordinary conversation was my forte.

“And how would you know?”

“Between Google and Wikipedia, I know a bit about joists and headers.”

Jack chuckled. “Don't trust everything you read on the Internet.”

“You mean I can't get four million dollars if I give that nice Nigerian woman the number of my bank account?”

“Nor will Bill Gates donate money every time you forward an e-mail.”

“Rats. I sent it to my entire address book twenty-eight times.”

Jack laughed, and a curious but comfortable silence enveloped us. He surprised me. The comfort level I felt around him surprised
me even more.

With Eric, I'd always felt like I was trying to prove myself. Trying to show I was worthy. With Jack, I knew I wasn't. He
had seen me at my worst. I had nowhere to go in his estimation but up.

What surprised me the most was that in spite of what he had seen, he still wanted to spend time with me.

I heard the faint coo of a dove, followed by the trilling of a nighthawk. The night was coming alive, and I felt myself relax
even more in this man's presence. This was a curious phenomenon for me. Relaxing around a guy.

I could get used to this.

“What did you think—” He held up his hand. “Sorry. That was going to be a dumb question.”

“And that's a loaded statement. Now that you've admitted it, you have to ask it.”

“No. I don't.”

“You have to tell me because I'm going to keep nattering at you until you ask, and let me warn you—I'm a nattering nabob.
A tsunami of talking. Leslie and I had a talking-without-stopping contest once. I wiped the floor with her. I can do the same
with you. Of course there's no floor here, just dirt—and that could get messy. But I'm sure I can rise to the challenge…”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “I concede.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, my unspoken question.

“I was just going to ask you what you thought of the church service. But we both know how that turned out.”

I ducked my head, suddenly interested in my cuticles. I needed a manicure in the worst way. I couldn't remember the last manicure
I'd had.

“Like I said, dumb question.”

I sighed, folded my arms on my knees, and leaned forward, staring into the gathering dusk. “No. It's not a dumb question.
I felt kind of challenged. Kind of unworthy, I guess.”

“None of us are, you know. Worthy.”

“Not even you?”

“Especially not me. The Bible tells us that no one is righteous, not one. I can't begin to presume that I'm exempt.”

“Leslie gave me a Bible.” I opened my purse and pulled it out to show him. “She also gave me a little sermon about purpose
and meaning.”

“Have you had a chance to read this yet?” Jack took it from me and flipped it open.

I shrugged. “It's small enough to pack around. I thought if I had some free time, I might read it. I kind of ran out of steam
at Exodus—all that talk about the tabernacle and cubits and ephods and stuff.”

“So you haven't had a chance to find a life verse yet?”

“A life verse being?”

“A passage of Scripture that speaks to you. That guides you in making a decision for Christ.”

“For Christ and against whom?”

Jack shot me a puzzled look.

“If I make a decision for someone, doesn't that automatically mean I'm against someone else? Like in hockey or football?”

“No. Sorry. Christian lingo. I'm not very good at this.”

“That's exactly what Leslie said,” I replied. I watched as he leafed through the Bible, watched his expression soften into
a smile as he read. “Why don't you read me your life verse?”

“I was teasing you,” Jack said, his eyes flitting over the tiny type. “When I went to Bible camp, we were always encouraged
to find our life verse. I was a bit of a rebel and used some obscure verse from Deuteronomy. Something about… the western border
was the Jordan in the Arabah, from Kinnereth to the Sea of the Arabah… The joke backfired on me.”

“How so?”

“They made me write out every verse I could find that dealt with geography. Kept me busy every night for the rest of camp.”
Jack laughed. “God tamed my rebellious streak through that, and as a result I did find one of my favorites.” He shot me a
quick glance. “You want me to read it?”

I'd been on many dates and gone to many places, but I didn't remember ever having a man read the Bible to me before. Of course,
Jack wasn't the kind of guy I usually dated, so the lack of precedent was understandable. “Go crazy.”

“‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,
neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ
Jesus.’” Jack's deep, rough voice lent an air of gritty reality to the words, and I found myself jealous of the certainty
of his faith. Jealous of the conviction that rang in his voice as he read. “I get a lot of comfort from that.”

There was that word again.
Comfort.

I thought of the stillness that seeped into my soul when Leslie talked about God. Here in this park, with Jack reading a passage
that spoke of power and strength, I yearned to experience the same thing again. My mind cast back to the empty moments after
coming home from the hospital. The inexplicable yearning for comfort, for a reason. For some kind of meaning to an existence
that had slowly spiraled out of control.

You'll get it back. You just need to get jour feet under you.

And when would that happen?

“Anyway, that verse really speaks to me,” Jack was saying. He handed the Bible back to me.

I took it, ran my fingers over the embossing on the cover, and slipped it back into my purse. “I guess this is why I don't
feel like I need to go to church,” I said. “Your dad told me I was like a lost sheep, and Leslie said that she has found purpose
in her life.” I tried to force a light laugh, tried to find the old Terra. “I've had a lot of religion since I came here.”

“Then I'll back off.” He folded his arms over his chest again, looking out over the park. “So, now that you're a free woman,
what are your plans?”

“I'm not sure. I'll wait until I get my money back and then probably head out.”

“I'm sure Leslie is going to miss you. She's pretty happy having you around.”

If Eric caught up to me, Leslie might not be so happy to have me around. I had no idea what he would do to me or anyone connected
to me if he ever found out where I was. And I had no intention of finding out.

“She'll be okay. She has Dan and the kids.”

“Amelia might miss you. You two seem like friends.”

“I've spent time with her. Listened to her story.”

“Does she listen to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would she take advice from you?”

“Why do you want to know about Amelia?”

Jack sighed, ran his hands through his hair again, then leaned forward. “I was hoping you could convince her to think about
foster care. Or at least a custody agreement.”

A chill crept into my chest. “Was that the reason for this date?”

“No.” Jack turned to me. “Not at all. Nor was the reason some opportunity to reform you or turn you into a Christian.”

“So why are you asking me these things?”

“Because you're here, no one else is around to hear us talk, and I'm concerned about Madison—and I know you are, too. Amelia
is not cooperating with the hospital or the doctors. I wanted you to know that I have a friend in Social Services, and she's
been making noises about removing Madison from Amelia's care.”

A
chill spread from my chest to my arms and legs, followed by the heat of anger. “You aren't serious.”

“I am. And so is Rod.”

I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees. Hugging myself against a sudden chill. I didn't want to think that Jack was on
the wrong side of this struggle. Didn't want to acknowledge that the first date I'd had in years that made me feel comfortable
around a man had an ulterior motive because of my connection to Amelia.

“Rod doesn't want Amelia to have Madison,” I said, my voice holding a sharp edge. “I wouldn't trust that snake farther than
I can spit.”

Jack's sigh showed as much denial as his body language did. “Amelia was supposed to take her baby to the clinic for tests
to find out why Madison isn't growing, but she's never shown up. She won't listen to the nurses or doctors at the hospital.
Rod is worried about Madison, too.”

I shouldn't have been surprised that he would take his friend's part. None of my friends or Eric's friends had believed he
had a wicked backhand either.

I leaned back on the bench, staring out at the trees. An evening breeze had sprung up, dancing through the leaves, creating
a sibilant hiss. Though I couldn't see them now, I knew that beyond the trees were the mountains. Solid, firm. Surrounding
this valley. They'd stood in their place long before we puny humans got here, and they would stay long after.

And within this bowl of beauty swirled sadness and sorrow. Broken lives and deception.

“Rod's not as worried about the baby as he is worried about losing control over Amelia,” I said quietly. “Madison is a way
to keep control over Amelia. She's scared of him.”

Jack gave a disbelieving chuckle. “Rod? What's to be afraid of?”

“You'd be surprised,” I said quietly, rubbing my arm. I glanced down at my hand and stopped the nervous gesture, twisting
my arm away to hide the scar.

Jack massaged the back of his neck and sighed. “Regardless of what you think of Rod, something needs to be done for that baby,”
Jack said, ignoring my little interjection. “If you could talk to her, we might not have to do anything drastic. She could
stay completely involved in Madison's life. In fact, her involvement would be integrated into any program Social Services
recommends.”

“And if Amelia doesn't cooperate?”

“Social Services will have to go with something stronger than a custody agreement.”

“And you'll play right into Rod's hands.”

Jack's eyes narrowed. “How do you figure that?”

“Don't you understand? He wants Madison out of Amelia's life. Madison is competition for her attention…”

“Are you accusing Rod of neglecting Madison?”

“I'm accusing Rod of making it very difficult for Amelia to take proper care of a baby who isn't growing properly, who seems
to need special care. Why doesn't he help her more?”

“Rod doesn't know how to take care of her, and Amelia won't let him.”

I could see we were on opposite sides of this problem. I didn't want to be on the opposite side of Jack. I wanted us to agree.
I wanted him to see what was going on.

“I know Amelia needs help, but she doesn't need her baby taken away from her. Mothers should be with their babies. She hasn't
always made bad choices. She chose to have that child. She could have swept that child from her life… Could have…” I stopped
there.

Too close. Too close.

I clamped my lips together, holding back any more confessions that might spill out.

“You're not just talking about Amelia anymore, are you?” His quiet question slipped past defenses that had begun crumbling
from the first conversation I'd had with this man. Under normal circumstances, I would have gone into high-defense mode and
scrammed.

But for now, I was stuck here, Jack's deep voice creating an intimacy I had never felt before.

I felt Jack's hand rest on my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Why don't you tell me?”

“I know what it's like to be in a relationship where you have no power,” I said, pleased that I sounded fairly together. “Where
people doubt you and are quick to believe the man who abuses you.”