11

Two cups of water oscillated in the microwave.

“Why don’t you spend the night?” I opened a container of cookies and set it on the table for Melissa. A little awkward, but I trusted Scott.

“Hmm, sounds tempting.” She took a bite of a cookie and nodded approval. “My apartment’s kind of small. This spacious place is just what I needed this weekend. I haven’t been to the prayer garden in years.”

The microwave dinged.

“Well, feel free to walk up there anytime.” I filled the cups with hot chocolate mix.

“Bailey, you didn’t think anything of walking up on us with me holding Scott’s hand? Seriously, he’d banged it pretty hard, and I’m a nurse. It just comes natural.” She blew ripples across her hot chocolate.

“Not really. He told me there’s nothing between you, and I believe him. I guess I’m having a hard time figuring him out since his heart attack. Really, I was having a little bit of a hard time before that. I think it’s all tied up with the loss of his parents and his outrageous work ethic.”

“I guess I just wonder why he banged it at all. Looked like he was talking pretty passionately as I rounded the corner.”

I set my cup down. Maybe Melissa could give me some answers.

“You know, Scott always thought of me as pretty headstrong. I guess it’s true. I felt he needed someone to talk to so I plunged right in.” Melissa took a sip.

“But why can’t he talk to me? We were so close, and now I feel as if I don’t even know him.” Wasn’t there a box of tissues around here someplace?

“I know. I’ve seen it lots of times with Dr. Harkin’s patients. They kind of go through stages, especially men. First denial, then anger. If it runs its course, the next thing will be fear.”

“But he has such a strong faith. It seems as if he’s not even depending on God anymore.” I rose and yanked some paper towels from the roll on the kitchen counter. I tossed the roll onto the middle of the table. Shouldn’t I be more understanding? I’d let distance grow between myself and the Lord in the recent past. I’d found my way back with Scott’s help.

“Even men of faith go through the same thing when their body betrays them with something like a heart attack. In fact, doesn’t God always teach us things as we go through trials? Besides the fact that he needs to take better care of himself, he has some serious control issues. I’m not sure if he has a work ethic so much as just an inability to believe anyone else can do it like he can. Quite an ego, really. I bet he’s having a hard time letting people run the businesses for him.”

I nodded. “That’s for sure, and it’s painfully obvious he’s none too grateful. We all feel as if we’re walking on egg shells around him. Well, Nurse Melissa, what should I do?” I pressed a paper towel to my eyes.

“First, we pray. Let it run its course. He’s a smart man. If he knows what’s good for him, and I think he does, he’ll stick with the program.” She reached across the table and patted my hand. “Dr. Harkin’s other male patients always struggle with their ego, as if they are letting people down. I’m sure Scott would rather feel your admiration than your pity, especially now. I know you’re worried, but try to build him up. Focus on his strengths,” Melissa said.

“I don’t pity him, I’m just terribly worried. I’ve been advised by Dr. Harkin, my mom, even my lawyer, not to baby him, but it’s so hard not to take up the slack for him.”

“Of course, but to him it seems like pity, and that’s hard on his ego. He still needs to feel like a hero in your eyes.”

“He’s definitely a hero to me. Girl, I could tell you some stories.” I puffed an exasperated breath and then cleared away the remaining traces of tears.

“Good, I can compare your story to the gossip.” Melissa picked up another cookie and then giggled. “Something about a criminal boyfriend and a burned down mansion?”

“OK, but first, tell me about Dr. Harkin.” I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at her.

Her smile began to quiver. She reached for a paper towel. “I think we need to go up to the prayer garden. We women have to stick together.”

I grabbed her hand, and we headed out the back door.

~*~

I could barely remember tossing my tent gear into the back of the truck. I drove to the lake like a madman and found myself sitting on my favorite spot, a raised ledge hidden among cypress trees. I didn’t even need a boat here; I just had to cast my line from the shore. My heart sank lower with each cast. How could I have talked to Bailey that way? She was trying to help. Anger rose again, but not at Bailey. Why’d I have to have the stupid heart attack in the first place? Hadn’t I been through enough? First Mom, and then Dad, and then the woman I loved treating me like a child. My mind wandered to a different scenario. The one I’d been avoiding.

What if I’d died?

Toppy would inherit the businesses, but he couldn’t handle them alone. The washout and Mom’s inn would likely be sold. Would Toppy continue to take care of Liz and Tracy, make sure they were OK? My parents had always looked out for them before. Wasn’t that my job now? Would Toppy continue to see about them?

And I just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Bailey after all she’d been through. She depended on me, or she had, until I got sick.

That entire inner dialog solved nothing, but gave me a heck of a headache. I reeled in my last cast and lay back in the grass, fishing pole beside me. Chilly November winds ruffled the lake water; the sun shimmered behind a cloudy sky.

“Father, I’m out of control. Who was that man barking at Bailey? I’m not like that, You know I’m not. I don’t understand any of this. Why am I so angry? Haven’t I done right by everybody? By You?”

Why was the Father so silent during this awful time?

Whatever. I sat back up, cast again. My line bobbed and I pulled in a nice-sized catfish. I gutted it on the spot. My pup tent went up quickly and then I kindled a fire. I fried the fish in my small cast iron skillet. It would have tasted better with a soda or something, but I was restricted to mostly water. Still, the food calmed me.

“There you are. Thought I’d find you here.” Toppy walked out of the woods and dropped his backpack on the ground. He squatted across the fire from me.

“She sent a babysitter?” I drained my water bottle and pitched it into the back of my truck with a whack.

Toppy put a hand up. “Hold your horses, now. She has a right to be worried. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never heard you talk to anyone the way Bailey described your rant toward her. I’m surprised at you, boy.” He picked up a stick and tossed it into the lake, but he kept looking at me.

“She’s treating me like a baby. I want it back the way it was. She used to need me, now she acts like my mother or something. I can’t take it. All of you are treating me that way.” I picked up a stray rock and chunked it into the fire, sending sparks flying.

“Listen, man, she loves you. She does need you, but she needs you well. I think she’s afraid you’re going to die. She hasn’t said it, but I can see it in her eyes. The rest of us are just trying to help you get some rest.”

Bailey is afraid. I knew that. Look at what she’d already lost. She entered adulthood with her self-esteem completely destroyed at the hands of her father. Her ex-fiancé burned her inheritance to the ground. What if I did die? How could I do that to her?

“Do you hear me, Scott? I think you need to see someone, a counselor or something. Call Pastor Weatherby. Your health isn’t the only thing suffering now.” Toppy picked up another stick and skewered a piece of fish. He popped it into his mouth.

“I hear you.” I knew he’d said something, but I didn’t really hear it. I could only hear one thought in my head--I’d have to break it off with Bailey. It made me sick, but it was the only way. It would hurt her, but not as bad as if I married her and then died a few weeks later. My throat tightened and my chest heaved. Was I suffocating? My heart broke as I realized what I’d have to do. I tried to hide my shortness of breath.

“We’re all on your side, son; we just want to help.” He stood and took a step toward me.

“Thanks, but I can take care of myself.” I poured another water bottle over the fire. “Go on home, Uncle Toppy. I’ll be back in tomorrow.”

“What do you want me to tell Bailey?” He bent over and grabbed his backpack.

“Tell her I’m fine.” I couldn’t even look at him. My Dad would have been so ashamed of me, growling at Toppy, but I seemed powerless to control it.

Toppy reached into his backpack and pulled out a small paper sack. He tossed it at my feet.

“What’s this?” I picked it up.

“Your medicine.” Toppy walked out of the campsite without another word.

The momentary shock of my oversight coursed through my veins, and then resignation deflated my anger. Of course they felt sorry for me. I couldn’t even remember to take my medicine. The pill bottle felt hot in my hand. I took the pills dry, and then kicked dirt over the remaining embers of the fire.

Once inside my tent, I curled up in a corner. Had I ever seen my father cry? Maybe I should just let it come and get it over with. I’d lost Bailey. No way around it. The tears wouldn’t come. I pounded the ground with both fists, sending shooting pain up the hand I’d already bruised.

Why had God turned His back on me?

~*~

The next morning I packed up my gear and headed back to town. I’d barely slept in that tent. It might still be warm in November in East Texas, but one could count on a cool night. I’d slept for a few moments, and then woken up shivering from cold, or hurt, or just plain fear. I didn’t know which. My head ached with what I had to do.

The day I’d first proposed to Bailey came to mind. I’d hurt her because it sounded as if I’d wanted to hire a maid. Botched it royally, but it came out in the end. Wasn’t she still working her tail off for me? I hadn’t even brought her fishing; hadn’t really taken her anywhere. She’d be better off without me on so many levels. There was a slim chance I’d get up to my apartment without being seen, but I needed to clean up before telling her. I tried to put on a normal face.

There were people everywhere. Good, everyone was too busy to pay any attention to me. I headed through the packed diner to my apartment.

“Hey, Scott, did you have fun?” Her voice, her sweet voice, stopped me cold.

I turned to greet her. “Oh, hi. Just heading up for a shower. Yeah, it was nice to be outdoors.” I avoided her eyes and took off my cap.

Bailey, beautiful Bailey. My heart ached, but I had to do it. Don’t start trying to reason your way out of it, man.

“Good, then come down and eat some breakfast.” She kissed me on the cheek, scribbled a note on her order pad, and stuffed it in my pocket.

Her touch sent my emotions reeling. The desire to sweep her into my arms and kiss her, kiss her as if she’d be mine forever, nearly overtook me. I tore away from her and sprinted up the stairs. Closing the door behind me, I slumped to the floor. Breathing hard, I pulled out her little note.

Scott, I love you more than I can say. I’m so sorry for not understanding what you’re going through. I want you to know that I trust you. I know you’ll be fine, that we’ll be just fine.

Her scent wafted from the paper. I clutched the love note to my chest, struggled up from the floor and collapsed on my bed.

I don’t deserve her.

Maybe I could just sleep a little, get myself together and then go down.

I woke up in the hospital.