You should have saved her! My daughter is dead because of you!
Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced the accusation back behind the locked door of his memory. He glanced longingly toward his front door. “I appreciate your concern. I do, but I’m running on empty. I need to catch some z’s.”
Billy gave him a long look. “I’m serious, man. Would you want Christy to live like this if she had lost you?”
Of course not, but how could he explain the deep hole in his heart that couldn’t be filled by anyone else?
“I know it’s been tough. I miss my baby sister every day,” Billy continued. “You know, I used to watch you two together and think you were the perfect couple. You’d cook these fantastic meals together, and anytime Etta James came on the radio, you’d pull Christy away from the sink and dance with her. That’s what you need—to find another dance partner...someone who makes you laugh and brings back the joy in your life.”
Billy stated the impossible. No one could fill his arms...or his heart...the way Christy had. She had been a perfect fit.
He shot a mischievous look at Alec. “If you don’t start living—I mean really living instead of going through the motions—then I’m going to pass out your number to every single chick I know...and I know plenty.”
Alec’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
Alec dropped his chin to his chest a moment, then glared at Billy. “Fine, you win.”
The teasing tone dropped out of Billy’s voice. “It’s not about winning, Alec.”
“Yeah.” Alec rubbed his thumb and forefinger over eyelids made of burlap. “I really need to hit the hay.”
Billy clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay. We’ll talk soon.”
“Later.” Alec strode across the lawn, his feet and the frayed hems of his jeans dampened by the night dew. He entered his apartment, locking the door behind him.
Instead of heading for his bed, he dropped into the oversize leather chair in the corner of the living room. Swinging a foot onto the matching ottoman, he rested his head against the cushioned back.
The minute the fire alarm had screamed through the stillness of the night, his adrenaline had yanked him out of his sleep. He had thrown on clothes and rushed upstairs. All he could think about was saving the new tenant. He couldn’t handle another death on his conscience.
Sitting up, he opened the drawer in the side table and reached for a handful of photos, smudged with fingerprints and creased from being handled. He leafed through them quickly, not really needing the visual reminder of Christy’s smile or the way her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed. But, for a moment, he needed to flip through them to remind himself why he couldn’t respond differently to Billy’s offer.
He paused on the one photo that nearly mangled his gut each time he looked at it—a candid shot of him and Christy slow dancing in his grandparents’ kitchen. They had celebrated their first Christmas together as a married couple with his family. While doing dishes, their wedding song had come on the radio. He asked Christy to dance with him. She’d fit perfectly into his arms. He hadn’t minded the way she teased him playfully about his missteps. His sister, Chloe, had taken the picture as he dropped a kiss on the tip of his wife’s nose.
The memory only served to hurt him more deeply. Because, as he continued to gaze at the image, a thought invaded his mind. He hadn’t just lost his wife and everything they owned in the fire—he’d also lost his unborn son.
Alec dropped the pictures back in the drawer and slammed it shut. He pushed himself out of the chair and wandered down the darkened hall to his bedroom.
More than anything, he wanted to bring back the family he’d lost and have the life he was meant to live. But that was impossible.
If he could turn back the clock, he’d make different choices—choices that would’ve protected Christy and his baby. As long as the trauma from his past continued to plague him, having a life with anyone else was impossible.
But he couldn’t drown out Billy’s words. His brother-in-law still remained single, despite his share of dates, so he didn’t understand what it was like to love and lose one’s partner.
What Alec wouldn’t give to laugh again and to have the same kind of happiness he’d shared with Christy.
But dancing ever again?
That was out of the question. No one could fill his arms the way she had.
This wasn’t how Sarah expected to start this new initiative. At least they had a buffer of time until the teenagers started next week. Sarah and Melissa had planned to use this week to finalize any last-minute details, buy supplies and set up the community center for group cooking. But now it looked like she may be on her own.
She parked her dented yellow VW Beetle in the parking garage, grabbed the basket of white daisies and hurried across the lot. The doors to Shelby Lake Memorial swooshed open. The tang of antiseptic spiraled her back to last summer when Dad had spent time in Pittsburgh after suffering a heart attack.
Finding the elevator, she took it to the second floor. She stopped at room 218 and tapped softly. Hearing a faint “come in,” she entered and then partially closed the door to drown out the dinging call bells and talking in the hall.
Sunshine spilled through the narrow window, streaking across the pale green walls and glossy tiled floors.
Melissa Kendall, the pastor’s wife and her summer outreach program partner, lay in the bed. She was dressed in a hospital gown with an IV pumping fluid into her arm, and her dark hair fanned across the pillow, emphasizing the chalky whiteness of her skin.
Nate, Melissa’s husband and Sarah’s pastor, slumped in an uncomfortable position in a chair next to the bed, eyes closed, his hand resting on his wife’s.
Eyes drowsy, Melissa managed a weak smile. “Hey.”
“When you suggested we get together this morning to talk about the program, you failed to mention the new meeting spot.” Sarah smiled to show she was joking.
“Yeah, well, you know me—Queen of the Last-Minute Changes. Pretty flowers.”
“I figured they’d cheer you up.” Sarah set the flowers on the windowsill and moved over to the bed. She squeezed Melissa’s fingers. “When you didn’t show up at the community center or answer your phone, I called Nate’s secretary, Cindy, to see if you were at the church. She told me where to find you.”
Pulling her hand out of her husband’s grasp, Melissa tried to sit up but winced and dropped back on the pillow. Lines tightened around her mouth. “I didn’t feel so hot in church yesterday, and then after lunch, I started having some nausea and stomach pains. Last night I doubled over, so Nate called the ambulance. Once we arrived, I was rushed into surgery for an emergency appendectomy.”
“I’m so sorry. How are you feeling now?”
“Tired, and a little sore. I woke up in pain a little while ago, and the nurse gave me something, but it hasn’t kicked in yet.” Melissa’s eyelids fluttered as if she were fighting sleep to talk.
“Who’s staying with Little Nate?”
“He’s with Mom and Dad.”
Sarah smoothed Melissa’s hair away from her forehead. “Is there anything I can do?”
Tears welled up in Melissa’s eyes and seeped over the curve of her face.
“Hey,