The Rescuer (16 page)

"True. Hi there, Blackie."

"He loves the idea of spring too."

Stephen held the restaurant door for her. "Do you have a favorite table?"

"Third on the right." He settled her at the table and she double-checked that Blackie had his feet and tail tucked out of the way so he wouldn't get stepped on.

"What are we celebrating?"

He pul ed out a piece of paper from his pocket, looked at it, and then leaned over to hand her the check. "This.

Across the top it says Stephen O'Mal ey. And on the next line is the sum of the proceeds of not only two home sales, but also a dining-room table I made. I should go away for a few months more often."

She traced her finger across the check and then offered it back to him. "That is so neat, Stephen. You deserve to have your carpentry skil s recognized."

"Now comes the decision of what home to buy and fix up next. I want your opinion on some places."

He paused so they could order lunch. The waitress looked at

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the box with the bow he'd set on the table, then at Meghan, and then at him. The lady smiled and he smiled back. She didn't mention the box as she confirmed their order and went to get their drinks.

Stephen settled back in his chair, studying Meghan as her fingers skimmed the tabletop, placing items into her mental map. "The realtor has already found three properties for me to consider. Two of them are single family homes; the other is a duplex."

"Al of them are in the city? Al need a lot of work?"

"Yes and yes."

"They sound right up your al ey."

"That's why I want your advice. Kate asked me to make the furniture for the baby's room."

"Oh, you should! What a wonderful idea."

"It would be time consuming, and I'd need a workshop with some space. I don't think any of these properties would give that kind of space."

"You know you want to make Kate's furniture."

He smiled at her assertion. "You're right; I do. I'l pass on these properties and keep looking." Their lunch arrived and he paused as the waitress positioned plates and Meghan got her bearings. "That's my last two weeks. What have you been up to?"

Her smile faded a bit. "Breaking in my piano and getting accustomed to being a home owner."

"Something wrong, Meghan?"

She quickly shook her head. "It's just strange, learning the sounds of a new house. It was windy last night."

She gave a rueful laugh. "I spook at the smal est things, thinking someone is there. Blackie is sleeping peaceful y and I'm jumping at every creak of a board."

"You do look a little tired."

"In a few months I'l know this house as wel as my parents'

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place, and it won't be that big a deal anymore."

"Cal me next time you're lying there listening to strange sounds. You can describe them to me and I can guess along with you. It would be nice to have the phone ring in the middle of the night again. I kind of miss the pager interruptions in my life."

She tilted her head as she considered the offer.

"Okay."

"Take me up on it. Meg-" he smiled at her and gently ran a finger along her cheek-"I'm glad you were free."

She smiled tentatively back at him, then nodded to her pie. "Do you have time for a walk after lunch?"

"I'd enjoy it."

When their meal was completed, Stephen paid the bil and tucked the jewelry box in his pocket as she gathered up Blackie's harness. They wandered down Main Street together. He thought she might turn toward her place and show him her new piano, but instead she motioned Blackie to stay on Main Street.

"The church is up ahead," Stephen commented.

"Do you mind if we stop in?"

He did, but he agreed to anyway. "We can stop."

The church was open, but the sanctuary was empty.

Meghan released Blackie's harness and let him go off duty. "I love this place."

It was obvious she knew the church wel , for she walked the aisle without thinking about her steps.

Stephen trailed her. "Why?"

"My earliest memories are of the organ music. I was baptized here, and JoAnne and I met in the youth group."

Stephen looked around the room and saw comfortable pews, the worn carpet in the front of the sanctuary, the stained glass by the baptistery. He had been in churches like this as a child. His parents had gone to church on Sunday mornings no matter what town they were in, even during vacations. It felt strange, and kind of sad to be back in a place so similar to what he remem-143

bered from his childhood and to find it made him uncomfortable just being there.

Meghan slid into the second row from the front. "I prayed for you while you were gone."

"What did you pray?"

She rested her chin on the back of a pew in front of her.

"That you'd come back."

"Nothing else?"

"Running away doesn't solve the hurt."

"It didn't. It just reminded me of what loneliness feels like."

She turned her head toward him. "You need a friend, Stephen."

"I've got you."

"Yes, you do. But Jesus wants to be your fnend too. I wish you'd let Him."

"The idea of a personal relationship with someone you can't even know is there for certain-" He didn't finish the thought. He had no desire to hurt her with his words. "Is this where you came, the first year after you went blind, to find the ability to smile again? You came back with an enviable sense of peace about you."

"Yes. I'm partial to sitting under the big wil ow tree out back and remembering the view."

He looked out the window. The view she remembered had changed to a parking lot addition and a storage building. "What did you think about while you were sitting out there?"

She slid from the pew, hitting her hip on the end post.

She rubbed the sore area as she walked forward to the piano. She pul ed out the bench and sat down, picking out a few notes. He recognized the simple melody of "Jesus Loves Me."

"Mom often says that life is what you make of it. It took about a year, but I decided I would survive being blind.

It's not the worst thing that could happen."

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Stephen leaned against the grand piano, watching her expression soften and her eyes close as she played.

"You've been practicing."

"Every day."

He sat beside her on the bench and it wobbled under both their weights. "Remind me to tighten these bench legs for you."

"This song is cal ed 'Blessings.'" She shifted ftito a new song he'd not heard before.

"And I'm honestly not ducking your conversation about God. I'm just saving us from a disagreement."

"You were never a coward, Stephen. Why are you about this subject?"

"I've already made my decision. I know what God expects of a man, and I'm not ready to meet my end of the deal."

"Wel it's an honest answer at least. The basis of it is wrong, but it's honest. You can't earn your way to being okay with God-sin is too pervasive. And while God does expect a lot once you're a Christian, when you know Jesus the things you care about, the things you do, change. The changes God wants are a by-product of that friendship, not rules you have to meet in order to be accepted."

"Stil , it's an agreement to fol ow and become like Him.

That's a big promise."

"I know it's big. But it's worth it."

For her the agreement had been worth it, and over the last year the other O'Mal eys had also decided it was a good deal. He just wasn't ready to take the same step.

He put his hands on the keyboard and improvised notes over hers.

He risked asking a question he'd come back to Silverton to ask. "Are we ever going to be anything more than friends?"

Her fingers fumbled the song and then stil ed on the piano keys. She tilted her head to look at him, and he knew her answer in the tension he saw before she spoke. "No."

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She didn't even qualify it. That hurt, for he'd been letting himself hope that someday at least there was a possibility of more. She'd been the one he chose to stay in touch with, thought about the most, while he was away. She knew the most about his past outside of family, and there was comfort with Meghan he hadn't found elsewhere.

He'd hoped, maybe, that in coming home he could have a deeper relationship to help fil the void that was growing wider each day. He needed a place to belong.

He'd decided that on the long drive back. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I can't divide me, Stephen. God matters and we don't share that. It would rub a relationship raw over time.

And my blindness is a pretty big hurdle too."

"Honest and direct, even if I don't like the answer." He'd been friends with her so long, and neither item was an insurmountable hurdle for him. But for Meghan, life didn't come with second chances very often. He rested his hands on the piano, considering her, and then set the wrapped box on the piano in front of her. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I got you something." He took her hand and lifted it to touch the box.

"Stephen..."

"No strings. I just wanted to share my day of celebration, okay?" He kept the words light and smiled. No matter how much he regretted her answer, he wasn't going to let this moment damage the friendship he valued. She was simply too important.

He was afraid she wouldn't even open it, but she tugged at the ribbon. She opened the box and lifted out the bracelet, running her fingers over the links. Her eyes blinked fast at sudden moisture. "This is beautiful."

"I thought you'd like it." He fastened it around her slender wrist. "It looks good."

She leaned against him. "You might not be speaking to my

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Best Friend, which is a shame, but you do make an awful y nice friend yourself. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"And I'm not going to give up on you or stop talking about Jesus; it's not my nature."

He hugged her. "I know. It's why you're a good friend."

He leaned over and picked up a songbook from tffe stack. "Jennifer made arrangements for Tom to send me her diary and Bible for Christmas."

"Real y?"

"I've been reading the Bible." He set the songbook on the stand. "How's your memory?"

"Not bad."

He picked out the melody. "Pay attention. This lesson is going to cost you."

"How much?"

"It depends on how senously you slaughter this tune."

She laughed. He patiently taught her the melody line of the song.

"What do you think about what you've read?"

"That I should read some more. It's something I'm doing for Jennifer-I owed her that-but I haven't found the courage to open the diary yet."

Her hand moved to cover his. "There's no hurry to open it."

"Listening to her words from her last days... I'm not ready." And he wasn't ready for this conversation either. He closed the songbook. "Come on; show me your wil ow tree, and then we'l walk back downtown.

You're going to be late back to work if we don't head that direction."

"Wil you surprise me for lunch and a walk again?"

He heard the uncertainty and tightened his hand on hers as he smiled. "You can count on it. If friends can't agree to disagree, what kind of friendship is that?" He tripped over Blackie and

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nearly took Meghan down with him. "Sorry about that."

"I need to put something on his col ar to warn that Blackie is around. He's good at taking people by surprise." She clipped on Blackie's harness.

Stephen rubbed the dog's ears in apology. "More observant people would probably help too."

He walked with Meghan back to the clinic.

He would have stepped in to see her office, but the reception area was fil ing up with people. "There are patients waiting, and it looks like a ful crowd."

"We're the place for everything from emergencies to earaches. It's too bad you aren't living here. We need a paramedic in|i

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this community

He let the casual remark go by unanswered. "I'l cal you, Meg. Thanks for today."

"I'm glad you came." She motioned her dog inside. He watched her enter the building, greet people, and then disappear from view. This day had not gone anything like he planned. He pushed his hands deep in his pockets as he walked back to his truck.

Disappointment didn't sit wel with Stephen.

Half an hour later, he slowed his truck on the road that passed by Meghan's parents' home. The Delhart land, adjacent to Neil's, ran as far as he could see. He pul ed to the side of the road and got out. Hands on his hips, he looked his fil of the open land. This was the place Meghan had spent the last several years, and he could feel the peacefulness of it in the pond and the path around it, the open fields.

Her last comment about being a paramedic had struck a nerve. He wasn't going back to that profession in the foreseeable future. He would enjoy being a carpenter for the summer, and it was more than a smal decision.

What he needed most now was a sense of

permanence and a place to belong that was his.

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He could head back to Chicago and return to see Meghan in a few days. Or maybe... He turned and walked back to the truck.

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tephen entered Neil's jewelry store. The store was empty and the sound of a radio came from a door in the back that was open a few inches. "Mr. Coffer?"

Neil came from the back work area. "Meghan didn't like the5.

bracelet."

"Are you kidding? She loved it." Stephen knew of no way to lead into the conversation but simply to ask.

"You mentioned you were considering sel ing your place next to the Delharts'."

Neil leaned against the counter, considering him. "I've been thinking on it."

"Would it be possible to see it? At your convenience?"

Neil crossed over to the window and turned the sign to say I closed. "It's time for a break. Let's take a drive now"

Stephen knew enough about land to know that what he was seeing was roots, generations of roots in one place. "Are you sure you want to sel this place, Neil?

There's history here."