The Reason by William Sirls
“Looks like you dressed for the occasion, Zach,” she said, glancing at her watch. “And you’re here early to boot.”
“Where is Kaitlyn?” he asked.
“She’s inside.”
“Is church over with?”
“Just ended,” she answered. “Spiffy new boots there, Zach.”
“Thanks, I just picked them up.”
She looked at his designer jeans, which were neatly cuffed over the top of the boots. She also noticed how well they matched the gray Tommy Hilfiger sweatshirt that appeared to have never been worn. At the very least, it was a gallant effort on his part to resemble a man of manual labor. Regardless of what his intentions were for being there, she appreciated his efforts to actually show. “Thanks for coming, Zach.”
“The newspaper will be here in about twenty minutes or so to take a few pictures,” he said. “It will look good for us.”
She shook her head as he walked up a few steps, blindsided by his news. “What’s wrong with helping somebody just for the sake of helping, without telling the whole world about it?”
“Nothing,” he said sharply. “But what’s wrong with giving some credit where credit is due?”
“Credit?” she asked.
“Good PR for the hospital certainly wouldn’t hurt us,” he said, looking at the cross like a motorist who had slowed to gawk at a fatal car accident. “But whoa. Who are we trying to kid here? That thing is done.”
She glanced again at the cross. The splintered pieces looked even more tattered and hopeless now that the morning dew had dried from its remains. The three robins were gone.
“Kenneth said they will have it looking like new,” she said. “Remember?”
“Yeah. Right. It isn’t going to happen.”
“If not, I’m going to replace it.”
“Whatever,” he said indifferently. He sounded like he was having a bad morning.
They walked into the church, and Alex and Charlie were the only two left in the main sanctuary. Alex was jumping up and down behind the pulpit, and it looked like Charlie was putting hymnals back in place behind the pews. They both stopped what they were doing and looked back at the door.
“There’s my patient,” Macey murmured.
“Cute. But holy cow,” Zach whispered back, staring at Charlie. “Will you look at the size of that guy beside him?”
“He doesn’t speak. That’s the minister’s son.”
Alex sprinted down the main aisle and put on his brakes in front of the two doctors. “Hi, Docca Lewis. Your friend is eating a cookie.” He looked up at Zach and squinted his eyes. “You weren’t at church.”
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Zach said, talking to Alex while staring up at Charlie.
Macey rested her hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Alex, this is Dr. Norman. We work together.”
Alex poked Zach on the leg. “My grandpa and grandma are in heaven.” He pointed at Macey. “She already knows.”
Zach didn’t say anything, and Charlie’s tie unclipped and fell softly to the ground. Zach picked it up and handed it back to him. Charlie smiled and slowly stuffed it into his pants pocket.
“C’mon,” Alex said, poking again at Zach’s leg and then quickly pulling his hands behind his back. “Even though you didn’t go to church, I’ll ask if you can have some cookies too.”
Alex led them through a door in the side of the chapel into the reception room while Charlie followed. At the center of the room sat a folding table covered with a stained white tablecloth, a halfgallon can of Hawaiian Punch, and a plate of what had to be fifty chocolate chip cookies. The wall to their left was lined with metal folding chairs, while the opposite wall featured an old maroon couch accented by a scratched and faded coffee table.
They walked over toward Kaitlyn, who was standing in the far corner speaking with Kenneth.
“So there’s my lady,” Zach said.
“Ex-lady,” Kaitlyn said, frowning in confusion.
What’s that about? Macey wondered. Trying to stake your claim, Doc?
Zach nodded at Kenneth. “It appears we have our work cut out for us with that cross.”
“I’m pretty sure we will get it straightened out,” Kenneth said, opening his hand in the direction behind Zach and Kaitlyn. Pastor Jim and Shirley were approaching.
“Hello, friends,” Pastor Jim said. “On behalf of the congregation of St. Thomas, welcome and thank you so much for being here today.”
“I loved your sermon,” Macey said.
“Why, praise God,” he replied. “And thank you for your kind words.”
“Thank you, James,” Kenneth said. “Your words were from the heart. They were beautiful.”
“You folks are too kind,” the minister said, tilting his head curiously toward Kenneth.
“That’s Kenneth,” Macey said.
“Hello, Kenneth,” Pastor Jim said. The minister was holding a Styrofoam cup of punch, and the short sip he took didn’t take much of the curious look off his face. “It’s funny for me to hear anyone call me James, with the exception of my wife. Around here, I’m mostly Pastor Jim.”
Alex walked into the middle of the group, tugged quickly at Pastor Jim’s pant leg, and pointed at Zach with his other hand. “Pastor Jim, that man wasn’t at church. Can he still have some punch?”
“Why, of course he can.” The minister laughed.
Alex looked up at Zach and pointed over at the cookies and punch as if he had just brokered a successful deal. “You can have punch if you want now.”
Shirley ran her hand across the top of Alex’s head as she looked at them. “I don’t know what we would do without your help today. It’s beautiful how people can help one another in times of need.”
“Yes,” Pastor Jim agreed, lifting his hands. “‘Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.’”
“Sounds like that’s from the Bible,” Kaitlyn said, as if she were both asking a question and giving the answer.
“Galatians 6:2,” Kenneth said.
“Yes, it is, and yes, it is,” Pastor Jim said, nodding and smiling. “Somebody knows the Bible pretty well to get the chapter and verse on that one. I’m really impressed.”
“Let’s hope he knows as much about carpentry as he does the Bible,” Zach whispered.
“He’ll give it a go,” Macey said, taking a bite out of a cookie and glancing over toward the punch table at Brooke and Carla. They were whispering to each other, and she had no doubt who it was about. It was clear that Pastor Jim wasn’t the only one who was impressed with green-eyed Kenneth. “And if he can’t fix it, we’ll be here to help make it right.”
TWELVE
Thanks, Shannon,” Zach said, handing the Carlson Herald reporter a bill from his pocket, folded in a small square. “I wanted to give you this.”
“What’s this for?” She stared at it in confusion.
“Something to show my appreciation for you coming out on such short notice.” As in, a hundred bucks’ worth of appreciation. “Make it look real good, Shannon.”
“I can’t take this,” she said. “I’ll make the article look good anyway.”
“Call it a tip. Take it,” Zach said, glancing over at the cross. It didn’t really matter that they hadn’t even started on it yet, let alone had absolutely no chance of fixing it. What did matter was that he looked pretty good in the group picture she had taken and it was great press for the hospital. He pointed at the bill in her hand and nodded. “I insist you have that. I’m sure you had other plans for your Sunday morning.”
“Well, uh, okay. Thank you, Dr. Norman,” she said, taking the bill and pressing it into her front pants pocket.
“Let me know tomorrow how it’s going to read,” Zach said as they walked down the steps toward the others, who were gathering around Kenneth’s pickup truck. Shannon might have run the story and picture without the tip, but he knew that now she’d feel obligated to send him a draft to review. He smiled in satisfaction.
&n
The carpenter closed the driver’s side door and turned to her. “It serves its purpose, Kaitlyn, but I don’t see it making it through the winter.”
Zach shot a quick glance into the back of the truck. He was a little surprised that it wasn’t a complete mess. “Congratulations. This is the only pickup I’ve seen from the East Shore job that doesn’t have a case of empty beer cans scattered in back.”
“Not much of a beer drinker,” Kenneth said, shrugging his shoulders.
“I’m going to need some of this stuff to do my deck in the spring,” Macey said, pointing at four brand-new gallons of lacquer in the back corner of the truck bed. “That’s a pretty big cross up there. Think we have enough?”
“We can always get more,” Kenneth said. “Let’s see what happens.”
Zach watched Brooke sneak a long stare at Kenneth, who was smiling innocently over at Carla. There was something about that smile that made him really uncomfortable.
Brooke pointed toward the house and said to the women, “Let’s move out, ladies.”
“Where are you guys going?” Zach asked.
“We need to change,” Kaitlyn answered. “It’s gonna take all of us to move that cross.”
Macey pointed to Pastor Jim and Charlie, who had changed clothes somewhere in the church and were walking toward them. “Looks like the men are ready to go, but you’re welcome to join us at the house, Zach.”
“Very funny.”
“Try not to get your new boots dirty,” Kaitlyn added, drawing a little laugh from Macey that he didn’t like one bit. As the women left, the thought of jumping in his Mercedes and heading over to the club for a quick nine holes passed through his mind. It was a little too cool for golf, but he needed this grief like a hole in the head.
He walked around the back of the truck and turned to watch Kaitlyn walk across the lawn with the others.
“She’s a nice lady, Dr. Norman,” Kenneth said.
“She’s with me, pal,” he answered, not caring how it sounded. Kenneth was nowhere near as good-looking as he was, and Zach probably paid more taxes in a month than the carpenter made in a year. But there was something vaguely threatening about him. Why? Zach thought, puzzled.
“No worries, friend,” Kenneth said, hands up. That little smile the carpenter had shared with Kaitlyn was back. Maybe he’s just waiting for the right chance to make a move on her . . .
Pastor Jim and Charlie were standing to the side of the truck. Zach would much rather have taken them over to CC’s for some new outfits instead of dinking around with the cross. The minister had on a pair of Wranglers that had to be ten years old, his white high-top Reebok tennis shoes were even older, and his Honolulu blue Detroit Lions sweatshirt had a bleach stain on it the size of a softball. The big guy had on gray cotton sweatpants with a matching top that could probably cover the hood of the Mercedes. His tennis shoes weren’t quite as old as the minister’s. But probably a size twenty.
“Charlie and I would like to do our part,” Pastor Jim said.
“I wish I had more like you, James,” Kenneth said.
“You wish you had more like me?” Pastor Jim asked. “More blind guys?”
“More willing hearts. And you see better than most.”
Pastor Jim paused as if considering his words. “Are you a supervisor over at the construction site?”
“Something like that,” the carpenter answered. “Let’s get a few things out of the truck.”
“Hey, Shirl,” Jim said, turning around and putting his hands in his pockets. “Charlie and I—” He stopped and tilted his head toward his left shoulder and waited a few seconds. “She’s not here, is she?”
“She went back to the house a few minutes before the rest of the women did, James.”
“Yes, to change her clothes,” the minister said humbly.
Kenneth took Charlie by his sleeve. “You, my Nephilim-like friend, will be a big help.”
“What do you want me to do?” Zach asked.
“Can you grab this?” Kenneth asked, reaching into the truck bed and handing him a rolled-up extension cord.
“I certainly hope so,” Zach answered, taking it.
“And this.” Kenneth grinned, handing him a power saw to take in his other hand. It was a lot heavier than it looked.
He handed Pastor Jim a fifteen-foot piece of coiled rope and another extension cord. Kenneth guided Charlie to the side of the truck and pointed at a shovel, a pick, and a sledgehammer. He lightly touched Charlie’s left hand, and Charlie reached down with it and scooped up all three by their handles. The carpenter then tapped on the end of a five-foot-long metal spike, which Charlie effortlessly grabbed with his other hand before stepping away from the truck.
Kenneth slammed the Ford’s tailgate closed and grabbed a utility belt and buckled it around his waist. The four cans of lacquer were all that remained until Kenneth grabbed two in each hand by their handles.
“To the cross,” Kenneth said, pointing in front of them.
“To the cross,” Zach echoed as the four men made their way up the hill. He kind of liked how valiant it sounded.
ALEX SLID A CHAIR OVER TO THE KITCHEN WINDOW and was looking out at the men as they surrounded the cross. “Can I go outside, Mom?”
“Baby, you better stick with us for now,” Brooke said, lifting him up and returning the chair to the table. “Do you guys want a cup of coffee before we head out?” she asked her guests.
Macey and Kaitlyn shared a glance. Shirley wasn’t changed yet, so they had a few minutes. “A little caffeine would be perfect right now.”
Brooke smiled. “It’ll make us better workers. How do you take yours?”
“Cream and sugar would be great,” Kaitlyn said.
“Black,” Macey answered.
As Brooke poured, Macey quietly took in the friendliness of the décor in the small kitchen. There was a chipped cookie jar on the far counter, an ancient waffle maker that had seen plenty of use, two ceramic angels, and four stained pot holders with the word Love embroidered around the edges. A half dozen of what had to be Alex’s crayon masterpieces hung on the front of the refrigerator, held firmly in place by an impressive collection of M&M-sized magnets. Most of the drawings featured the same two stick figures—one quite small with bright-red hair, and the other a huge one with an oversized head. On the other counter next to a stacked set of plastic bowls was a plaster of paris square with what looked like a man’s handprint in it. Typed on a blank business card glued at the base of the handprint were the words Charles Paul LINDY—AGE 9—LOUISE Givens Academy.
“I love this kitchen,” Macey said. “It’s so homey.”
“Me too,” Brooke replied, lifting a white paper sack of sugar from a narrow pantry before struggling to tear off its top. It wasn’t ripping properly.
“Let me help you with that,” Kaitlyn said as she walked over to the sink. She glanced out the window and laughed, covering her mouth, forcing herself to stop. “Macey, come look at Zach.”
Macey stood and went to the kitchen window. “When do you think Zach Norman last had a shovel in his hand?”
Carla joined them. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Kaitlyn answered. “Things didn’t quite work out. Is it that obvious?”
“Maybe a little,” Carla said.
“Men,” Shirley said, shaking her head as she entered the kitchen. “If that man had his head on straight, he’d make sure a cutie like you never got away.”
Kaitlyn smiled and poured some sugar into the container Brooke brought over.
“Speaking of men,” Macey said, “Brooke mentioned that you guys already knew Kenneth before today?”
“Sort of,” Carla said, giving Brooke what Macey thought was a confused glance. “It was only for a few minutes, but our meeting was, uh, amazing, really. I’ve never met anyone l
Kaitlyn sat back at the table. “It’s funny you say that. I feel a little weird being around him, but in a good way. It’s kind of hard to describe it.”
Carla nodded. “He’s not the most handsome guy in the world, but there is something about him that’s just . . . beautiful.”
“Here we go again,” Brooke said, laughing.
“Mom says I’m handsome,” Alex said.
“You sure are,” Macey said.
“Yeah, I know,” Alex said.
“You’re also very modest,” Shirley added, grimacing as she leaned forward in her seat to put on her other shoe. She slowly sat back up and smiled at Macey. “Dr. Lewis, you seem like a natural around kids.”
“I work with kids every day, Shirley.”
“Oh,” Shirley said. “What kind of doctor are you?”
Kaitlyn pressed her tongue to the back of her front teeth and gave Macey a look that only could have meant, You had to know this was coming.
“I practice pediatric oncology and hematology.”
Carla tried to help Shirley out. “That means she works on kids’ rear ends.”
Kaitlyn put her hand on top of Carla’s. “Actually, that’s proc-tology, Carla.”
Carla covered her mouth. “Duh, what was I thinking?”
“That’s okay,” Macey said. “I help kids with cancer.”
“And she’s the best,” Kaitlyn said.
“I don’t know about that, but I do my best.”
“That must be terrible,” Carla said. “Working with sick kids like that.”
“Actually, it’s just the opposite. It’s incredibly rewarding.”
“I couldn’t imagine that,” Brooke said. “I mean, the stress of it all.”
“What do you guys do?” Macey asked. The needle on her irony meter was buried all the way to the right as she began to mentally rehearse one of tomorrow’s top questions from Brooke, which was certainly going to be, Why didn’t you tell me Alex was sick yesterday? Suddenly, she was hoping they could wrap up things here in the kitchen and head back down to the cross.