All in One Place (23 page)

“Ever since I became a Christian, I've been praying for you,” Leslie said quietly.

Her words pulled me up short. Another person praying for me. Should I feel flattered or afraid? “What exactly were you praying,
pray tell?” I tried to laugh, but it fell flat.

“I prayed that you would come here. I think your coming here is a sign of those prayers being answered. A sign that you need
to be here.”

“Honey, the only signs in my life are the ones that say ‘Now Leaving Harland’ and ‘Welcome to Chicago.’ There are no other
signs.” She spooked me out with her talk of signs. Like some kind of magic got me here. There was nothing magical about Eric
who was the catalyst for my trip.

“But you're here. And I've been praying that you would experience what I have.”

“This faith thing?” I tried for mockery, but my heart wasn't in it and the tone fell closer to question than derision.

“Yeah. This faith thing.” Leslie's gaze locked onto mine.

“You know, you want me to go to church, but I'm getting enough sermons hanging around Harland,” I said, throwing up one last
feeble defense.

“Who else has talked to you?”

“I got a mini agricultural lesson on lambs and Jesus looking for a lost sheep from Cor.”

“He got that one right. I think you are lost, big sister.”

“What do you mean? I have a plan. I'm going to Chicago…”

“And then?”

“Find a job that pays me more than a buck over minimum wage and tips.”

“And then?”

I squirmed, wishing she would stop. “I don't know. Join a rock band.”

Leslie's exasperated head shake dismissed my silly comment. “You've been running for the past few years. Running against the
wind.”

“Don't knock it. I like that song.”

“You should. It's been your life's theme for too long now. One of these days you're going to get tired of this restless, windblown
wandering. You'll be old and tired, and you won't have a place that's your own, and you'll realize that one really is the
loneliest number.”

“Leslie's greatest hits.” I was really scrambling now. Scrambling for a foothold on the place I used to stand. But I was losing
ground. Fast.

It wasn't fair, I thought, curling my shoulders as I cupped my hands on my elbows. I had come here feeling vulnerable, and
now Leslie was hitting me again and again and I didn't have the strength to fight back.

“I've been hoping and praying you would come here. Hoping and praying I would be given a chance to talk to you about what's
happened to me. And here you are.”

I felt a surge of protective anger. “I'm here because you're my sister and because I needed to lay low.”

“There are a lot of other places you could have gone to avoid Eric. But you came here. To the only family you have.” Leslie
put her cup on the table, leaned forward, and gently dislodged one of my hands, holding it between hers. “I think you came
here because in your subconscious you thought you might find healing here.”

“I came… I came because…” I stopped. I looked down at her hand holding mine because it was easier than looking into her eyes.

“I've found a meaning to my life here,” Leslie pressed on, obviously sensing my wavering. “I've seen you watching me, as if
you're wondering yourself what is going on. I know that God loves me, and He has given me purpose in my life. I want you to
find that purpose, that meaning.”

I wanted to shut out what she was saying. Yet, as she spoke, in spite of my resistance, her words quieted the angry voices
and created a silence and stillness I had never felt before. “You know this still seems a little weird to me, don't you?”

Leslie smiled. “I know. You need time. I did too.” She got up, went into the house, and returned with a small book. I knew
what it was before she even placed it on the table beside me. “I want you to have this for now. It's small enough to fit in
your backpack. If you have a chance, read it.”

I held the book, tracing the gold letters on the cover, then slipped it into my purse before I gave in to an impulse and opened
it up. Though my resistance to all this faith stuff was shrinking, it was still a scary proposition.

This faith thing means losing control. Don't fall for it.

As if I have so much control over my life now.

“Does this come with Cliff's Notes?”

“No. But if you're really stuck, I'm sure Father Sam or Cor could help you out.” She waited a beat. “Or you could come to
church again.”

“I could.” I nodded, declining to accept the offer. Church hadn't turned out all that well the last time. I wasn't eager to
repeat the humiliation. “So tell me about Anneke,” I said as I zipped up my purse. “What's her latest new thing?”

Leslie brightened, distracted by any mention of her daughter. “The other day we went for a walk and she said she hoped there
weren't any ‘hopgrassers’ around this year. It was so cute, I had to write it down.” She told me about Nicholas's new words.
Dan's latest plans.

The tension in my neck loosened and my shoulders dropped as the calming influence of the commonplace settled my churning thoughts.

Finally, the muffled ring of the phone summoned her. The door fell shut behind her and I settled back in my chair, letting
my eyes follow the contours of the land as silence wrapped itself around me.

This is nice,
I thought, momentarily thankful for the hiatus my little adventure in the bar had created. Had I not been forced, how long
would I have stayed here? A week? Maybe ten days?

I was getting comfortable here. I was connecting with my sister, something that hadn't happened in a long time. Nicholas and
Anneke didn't stare at me with that puzzled look, as if to say, “Who are you?”

You don't belong here…

I pushed the cynical voice aside. She was getting shrill and boring. I leaned back in the chair and sighed lightly. Aside
from all the faith stuff, I enjoyed being with my sister again.

The screen door creaked open, and Leslie stood in front of me, holding out the receiver. “It's for you,” she said with a puzzled
lift of her eyebrow.

My heart gave one long, slow thump of fear. Had Eric found me?

“Hello?” I said, swallowing down my fear.

“How are you doing?” Jack's deep voice turned the thump into a flutter.

“Fine,” I said cautiously. “How did you find me here?”

“Lennie said you had the day off, and there was no answer at Helen's, so I assumed you were at your sister's place. I've got
good news. Ralph agreed to drop the charges.”

“So that means?”

“You're free to go. I can't release your bail money for a couple of days, but you'll get that back eventually as well.”

“Really?” I sat back in my chair, suddenly boneless.

I would have my money back. I could start making plans again.

I could leave.

Leslie hovered over me, her eyebrows lifted in a tell-me-as-soon-as-you-hang-up look.

Did I really want to go? Start all over in a new city, a new place?

“I was also wondering what you're doing this Friday night.”

This pulled me back from my mental meanderings. “Working. Why?”

“Yeah, but you get off at seven o'clock. Would you like to go to a movie, maybe coffee afterward?”

“With you?”

“I usually like to arrange my own dates, yes.” Jack had lowered his voice, creating a gentle intimacy that, in spite of the
warmth of the day, sent a faint shiver dancing down my arms.

And I didn't know what to say.

“If that's a problem…”

“No. No problem.” Complication, yes. Problem, no.

Leslie's hovering was making me nervous. I knew what she thought of Jack and me, and while part of me didn't care, another
part of me wanted her to approve. I liked Jack. I was attracted to him. Why not go out on a date? What could happen?

“Yeah. I think I will,” I said. I gave Leslie a
Don't worry
smile. “So I'll see you Friday, then.”

I said good-bye, disconnected, and laid the handset down on the table beside me.

“And? What did he want?” Leslie pulled her chair closer, as if proximity would pull the information from me quicker.

I leaned back in my chair and wrapped my hands around the back of my head as I digested this latest piece of information.
Should I tell her? She'd find out sooner or later anyway…

“I have a date.” My eyes flitted over her, then past to the mountains edging the valley.

“Jack phoned to ask you out on a date?”

I nodded.

“And you're going to go?” Leslie's frown did not bode well for any encouragement about my date. I didn't want her disapproval
ruining the quiver of pleasure that curled in my midsection at the thought of going out with Jack.

“Oh, yeah, and I won't be needing a lawyer after all. Ralph is dropping the charges.”

“So you're free to go.”

“Yes.”

“And will you?”

I held her steady gaze as conflicting emotions pulled me back and forth.
Stay. Go.

“Well, I have a date for Friday night, so I'll be around at least until then.”

Leslie gave me a feeble smile, but I could see that she was less than impressed with my current life's plan. “You make sure
you don't hurt him.”

“It's just a date.”

“When you're a single guy over thirty and living in a small town, there's no such thing as ‘just a date.’ Please don't lead
him on.”

Leslie's concern for Jack's well-being would have been touching if I wasn't the one she was warning.

“I won't lead him anywhere, Sis. Don't worry.”

I
'm going on record as saying I'm sure I've been more bored at some point in my life, but I must've expunged that memory from
my mind,” Jack said, putting the key in the ignition of his truck.

“I'll bet the credits would have been interesting,” I said, tucking my hands in the pockets of my jacket as I leaned back
against the seat, “if you'd let us stick around to see them.”

“And let that movie suck even a few more minutes out of my life?” Jack started the truck, then glanced at me. “I know you
said you didn't want to do coffee, but I can't take you home yet. I'm sure you need some time to recuperate from that traumatic
experience.”

I was surprised he persisted. With Leslie's faint warning echoing in my subconscious, I had told him that I needed to go directly
home after the movie. I hadn't counted on enjoying his company as much as I did. He knew exactly how to mock bad movies, bad
acting, and sentimental music.

A movie critic after my own heart.

And even better—he didn't think he had to get his money's worth by sticking around, when it was obvious to both of us the
only thing that would redeem the movie was the projector breaking down.

So he tugged on my hand and said that he was ducking out and if I valued the time that was still allotted me in my life, I
would follow him.

I laughed, was hushed by an anorexic-looking woman with dreadlocks, and, giggling, followed him up the darkened aisle and
outside.

Which brought me to this place. Not ready to end the evening, and unwilling to go home to an empty basement suite with Helen
watching pay-per-view upstairs.

“Sure. I can do coffee.”

“Great.” He started up the truck and pulled out onto the quiet street. The first place we went to was closed.

His truck's dashboard clock glowed 10:10. “I think we're too late for any establishment that doesn't serve alcohol.” Jack
frowned, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “I forgot how late it was.” He sighed, then gave me a quick smile. “How
about we just go for a drive? I can give you a resident's tour of Harland.”

“Sure.” That sounded harmless enough.

He took me past his old high school, shining his headlights on the football field. “Where I didn't play the game that didn't
win the state pennant,” he said, sighing.

“That's funny. I would have pictured you as a football star.”

Jack shook his head. “Spent too much of my high school years reading. By the time I pulled my nose out of my books, prom was
breathing down my neck, and all I could think of was how to work up the nerve to ask someone.” He reversed out of the school
yard and continued the tour, turning down another road I was unfamiliar with.

“Did you go?”

“Yeah. Kathy's sister, Phyllis, took pity on me.”

I laughed. “I doubt she accepted out of pity.”

The lights of the dashboard cast a greenish glow on Jack's face. In the half-light, his eyes shone with a familiar glint.
Interest. Expectations. Our banter was slowly shifting to flirtation. “I'll take it as a compliment,” he said.

“Glad I could be of service to your self-esteem.”

Jack pointed out a church building with a towering spire. “That's the Catholic church. Father Sam's old parish. He lives in
that little house beside the priest's residence.”

A light shone out from one of the upper rooms. I wondered if Father Sam was praying. And whom he was praying for.

“How did he and your father meet?” I asked, curious about the relationship.

“Father Sam had visited my mother when she was in the hospital. My dad connected with him there. In fact, Father Sam was with
my mother when she died.”

“What did she die from?”

“Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.”

This was one of those occasions when I wished I was better with words. Wished I could say the right thing. “Sorry to hear
that” just didn't pay the bill.

Yet I felt a curious kinship with him. Even though my mother was, to my knowledge, still alive, I'd lost her, too. “How old
was she?”

“Forty-three.” Jack shook his head. “Funny how that goes. Her death wasn't unexpected. We had lots of preparation. But still,
when it came…” He gave a short laugh. The kind people give when they don't really know what else to say or do. “It's been
over seventeen years, but I still miss her.” He looked at me. “Do you miss your mom?”

“The last I heard from her was an e-mail she sent about six months ago from Yellowknife. That's in the Northwest Territories.
Canada.”