The Protector (26 page)
He floundered for a moment. “Better than doing nothing.”
She curled her hand under her cheek. She’d embarrassed him. “He handles tears better than you do.”
“Oh, really?”
She chuckled. “You want to solve them.”
She expected a quick reply and instead he was quiet for so long she was afraid she offended him.
“No. I want to remove the reason for them.”
The breathtaking scope of what he reached for—how could she have so misread the man not to have seen that coming? He was not offering it as a casual statement. Their conversations over the years had often revolved around the subject of religion and tragedy as he asked about what crisis she was dealing with at work and how she was approaching it. But the few times he tried to make it personal, she avoided the conversation.
She had a choice to make. Did she want to have such a conversation? One word would step her back, the other… She took as big a risk as he had when she answered. She so desperately wanted the peace Cole had. “There is no remedy for tears when the reason for them is inevitable. Jennifer is dying.”
“The despair can be remedied.” He spoke to the heart of the matter.
“Only by denying the pain of the loss.”
“If death is permanent, despair is the right conclusion. If death is a brief separation, it’s merely a reason to be sad,” he replied gently.
“Heaven.” She’d seen people cling so hard to that conclusion in the face of tragedy. She had known he would base his position there; it was where those who believed anchored themselves.
“The reason for this Christmas season—
Unto you this day a Savior is born.
There’s hope, Rae.”
They were nice comfortable words that were said so often at this time of season. But she’d heard the words so many times said by others in the face of tragedy that it had become something of a panacea. Cole believed those words; she didn’t doubt his sincerity. And because it was him, for the first time she was willing to press the contradiction she saw.
“There’s hope, but only if I accept the premise that God loves man so much it rationalizes the fact He would allow His own Son to be killed.”
“You think God acted arbitrarily.” She’d stunned him.
“Is it rational to do wrong in order to do right? He let His Son be crucified supposedly to save mankind. Where was the love for His Son?”
“Rae—”
“I don’t buy loving someone at the expense of someone else.”
“Love can’t be inclusive? A parent’s love for a spouse and a child? Equal and yet unique.”
“The Bible says because God loved us He sent His Son. Jesus would later cry from the cross, ‘Why have You forsaken Me?’ The Bible contradicts itself on God’s character.”
“Rae—you’ve got it wrong. Giving His life was Jesus’ own choice. He came to save us and the way to do it was to die in our place.”
“Maybe.”
She was met with silence. An absolute silence. “I can hear the hurt,” Cole finally replied. “You’ve obviously thought about it. Would you be willing to talk about it another time?”
It didn’t sound like she’d offended him, but it did sound like she disappointed him. She buried her head in her pillow. “Of course.” She’d listen, even if the emotions behind her conclusions ran deep. “Buy me breakfast some morning.” She had no idea she was going to make the suggestion until it was made.
“I’d like that a great deal.”
She’d offered it, she couldn’t easily back out. “Good.”
“Sleep well, Rae.”
She looked at the clock, which showed most of the night gone. “I’m going to try.”
“If you’re awake in half an hour, I expect a call and we’ll talk about it tonight.”
The two guys in her life expecting the same thing…she smiled, hoping she didn’t find herself awake and forced to choose between the two of them. “Good night, Cole.”
J
ack, I don’t want to move to this apartment complex. It’s too new and pristine and…well, yuppy. I want a place where rust on the car in the parking lot isn’t considered an eyesore to be scorned.”
Jack leaned against the side of his car, smiling at Cassie’s definition of the apartment complex. It had been built two years ago. There was a swimming pool, two tennis courts, a weight room, and a large community center. The one-and two-bedroom apartments were spacious with high ceilings and large closets. It was the opposite of what she had now. “You haven’t even see an apartment here and you don’t like it.”
“I just know I won’t.”
She was so sheepish about it that Jack had to bite back a grin. This was the fourth complex they had looked at on Tuesday their day off, and with every stop her excuses got more and more nebulous. They had plenty of time and the full attention of an apartment complex staff eager to rent an open apartment, but Cassie wasn’t biting. “Admit it, Cassie. You don’t want to move.”
“Yes, I do. There is a mouse now living with me who I didn’t invite to be my guest.”
“You could put out a trap; you could let me find him.”
“I’m not going to put out a trap that I’m the one most likely to step on.”
He’d expected that to be her answer, although he suspected it was for a far more fundamental underlying reason. He moved away from the car and opened the passenger door. “Come on. Let’s go get lunch.”
“No. It’s okay, we can look at the apartment while we’re here. I promise I’ll keep an open mind.”
“There’s no need. I know what you want.”
“What’s that?”
He chuckled. “To look like you moved without actually moving. That can be done too.” He waited for her to get in the car. He closed the door for her and circled around to get behind the wheel. “Paint. Wallpaper. New curtains.” He added one more just to tease her. “A cat.”
“The building manager would never agree.”
“Sure he will. I’ll do the asking.” If it came down to it he was sure he could find someone who knew someone who knew the owner of the complex to get the approval.
“I don’t like wallpaper.”
“You need a flowery border for the kitchen. Trust me on this.”
“Then I don’t need a cat. I don’t want a dead mouse. I kind of like my mouse.”
“What’s his name?”
“Her.”
He barely heard her. “What?”
She sighed and spoke up. “It’s a her. T. J.”
“A cousin of J. J.?” Jack glanced over at Cassie, amused by the choice of name. “I’m jealous. At least your mouse is alive.” Despite her protests, he’d suspected she was attached to the unexpected guest. “I promise I’ll find and rescue your mouse. We’ll build you bookshelves; you can do your spring cleaning early and get everything in your drawers and closets nice and neat and organized. It will be just like you’ve moved.”
“Maybe I had just better move. This sounds like work.”
“I’ll recruit help.”
C
assie bit the tip of her tongue as she carefully cut the Christmas wrapping paper to give an inch overlap. She set aside the scissors and smoothed the paper, folding the corners of the paper and neatly creasing them. Jack leaned across what she was doing. “Hey—”
“You’re hogging all the bows.” He selected a huge red one from the plastic storage bin sitting beside the Charlie Brown-size Christmas tree he’d insisted she get for her apartment.
“Well, you’re hogging the tape.”
“I need it. There are only five days to Christmas and I’ve got close to a zillion packages to wrap.”
He added the bow with a flourish to what had once been an envelope box and was now a colorful if rather interestingly wrapped package. He added the box to a growing mound that was threatening to topple over.
“What was that?”
“A new toothbrush for me.”
“Jack—” She laughed.
“Cole said to buy what I want and give him the bill.”
“A toothbrush.”
“A Wile E. Coyote that will not be mistaken by any other guy at the station in the early hours of the morning.”
“I take it back. That’s a good gift,” Cassie agreed.
“I thought so. What did Cole get you?”
“He’s actually buying my gift himself and I have no idea what he’s getting. Last year at least he asked for a list of what I wanted. This year—he just gets this grin on his face.”
“It’s got to be something noisy,” Jack speculated.
“Please. Cole has not bought into the idea that color and sound somehow make the gift better. I think, I hope, it’s a book.”
“You have a truly boring Christmas list. Books, gloves, a new coffeepot.”
Cassie smiled. “I asked for what I want.”
“You asked for what you need. Books to you are like food. Is there a second tape dispenser around here somewhere?”
“Try the box you labeled this afternoon: everything-that-has-nowhere-else-to-go.”
“That’s what you told me the stuff was,” Jack protested.
“I meant it in frustration, not to be taken literally.”
Jack got up from the floor to head to the hallway and search for the box. If someone had suggested to her at Thanksgiving that Jack would be so intertwined in her life that a day off when she didn’t see him would feel like a loss, she would have laughed at the suggestion. Jack had transformed the holidays for her.
Lord, he’s wrestling with a simple question. Who You are. If You’re a myth or real. I need an opportunity to talk with him. Please show me an opening. Now that I’ve got my nerve up to try, it’s hard to wait for that right moment.
“Cassie, what’s this small box marked hot stuff?”
She smiled, having wondered how long it would take him to ask. “Salsa for the department Christmas party. Remind me to take it over to the station tomorrow.”
“I see you finished packing the front closet.”
“I got it done last night.”
At Jack’s suggestion she had brought in packing boxes and was doing what he defined as spring cleaning. His method was extreme. It was to empty the drawers so that furniture could be moved away from walls while they painted and so that stuff, as Jack described it, could be put back where it should go instead of where it had been.
It was effective. It felt like she was moving. The good thing was she didn’t have to carry boxes outside in mid-December. The bad thing was her apartment hallway had become a floor-to-ceiling stack of boxes.
Jack came back with tape. “Where did you put those books of wallpaper samples?”
“A couple of them are on the kitchen counter, the others in the bedroom.”
“Have you thought about wallpaper for the bathroom?”
“Paint.”
“Then do something other than white.” Jack leaned over to tap the end paint sample strip spread out on the carpet. “What about this blue for the trim?”
“Too dark.”
“It would look sharp. You need bold colors.”
She shifted the paint strips. “Maybe a soft rose.”
“That would look good too.”
“As long as it’s color.”
“Exactly. White is boring.” He tore open the plastic wrap on a new package of Christmas wrapping paper. “Have we decided what to get Cole?”
“We?”
“Come on, Cassie, help me out. He’s my friend but he’s also a boss. It’s not easy.”
“He wants a copy of the movie
Apollo 13.”
“Easy enough.”
“And a copy of the movie script.”
“Where am I supposed to find that?”
She looked at him and smiled.
He sighed. “How much is it going to cost me?”
“I’ll be kind.”
“Sure you will.” He spread out paper, sized a box to wrap, and liberally cut the paper. “You didn’t ask what Christmas gift I wanted from you.”
“Jack—”
“Ask.”
She’d already bought him a game player after meeting with his sister Rachel to find out what he really wanted. “What do you want me to get you for Christmas?”
“See, that wasn’t very hard. I want you to come to the O’Malley family gathering with me.”
She set aside the scissors rather than cut the paper and make a mistake. “Your family Christmas gathering?” She was enjoying spending time with him, had known she’d see him sometime over the Christmas weekend around the shift on Sunday, but his family gathering— “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to crash your family gathering.” Maybe he didn’t know what that implied, maybe he did. She wanted his friendship because it was going to be hard to spend Christmas without Ash, and she certainly didn’t want to spend it alone. But going to Jack’s family gathering—
“I want you to come,” Jack insisted. “You already told me you don’t have other plans.”
“Maybe not, but spending Saturday night with your family would be presumptuous.”
He leaned over to crowd her space to pick up the scissors. “Jennifer wants to meet you. You have to come or I’m going to be in the doghouse with her. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”