God's Gift (9 page)

She pushed open the door. James stepped inside. The amount of information and how it was correlated and displayed was incredible. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. He felt slightly overwhelmed. This was her domain?

“Rae, do you want to clear the rest of the position in five-year treasuries tomorrow? There is a working spread we could take advantage of,” a man in his early twenties asked from the far side of the room.

“Punch it up to the monitors,” she requested. He pressed a couple keys and the data he was looking at appeared on the main screen in front of her. Rae studied the data, nodded. “Good idea. Put them on the list to move early in the day. Scott, have you met James?”

“Spoken on the phone, but no. It’s nice to meet you, James.”

James shook hands, liking the man on sight. Dave spoke highly of him. “Same here. This looks like an interesting place to work.”

Scott laughed. “Challenging,” he replied.

“Dinner is here,” Rae commented, picking up the stacks of notes she had scrawled during the day. “What can I get you to drink, Scott?”

He gestured to the table behind him. “Got it covered, Rae. The main conference room?”

Rae nodded.

“Give me another couple minutes to finish the file transfers, and I’ll be there.”

“This has been a long day for you,” James commented as they stepped into a small kitchen. It was six-thirty and Dave had mentioned Rae had called him from the office at 5:00 a.m. that morning.

Rae opened the refrigerator to get the requested drinks. “It will take a couple hours longer to wrap up today than usual, but seven o’clock isn’t that uncommon. Did the building go okay today? I was worried about you.”

James smiled as he took the drinks, careful in how he gripped the cans because his hands wanted to drop them. There was no way he was going to even hint how harsh the day had been. He had a weekend to relax and recuperate. The pain that had been in his ribs the day before had set
tled into all his joints with the viciousness of a disease that had never left.

But he had worked through the pain again, and it had not crippled him. It was different now; he knew what to expect, he knew how to adapt.

“We put the roof joists in place today. The work is going well. I’ve missed it, Rae, building a place.”

“I’m glad you’re able to do it again. The pain is okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Let’s go eat.”

It was a fair day—sunny, moderate temperature, slight breeze. A builder’s ideal day. James was on the roof with Kevin laying the roof sheeting in place. They had set the joists that morning and by evening should be ready to lay the shingles. James slipped yet another nail from the bag and held it in place. He had been using the nail gun across the seams, but there were some corners that required a hand-driven nail.

Pain radiated through his entire body with every blow of the hammer.

The weekend had only let his joints grow more stiff, the pain more severe. It was a losing battle, and James knew it, but wouldn’t let himself admit it.

He was losing a dream and he refused to simply give up.

Six months ago he would have thought nothing of laying the entire roof sheeting by hand. There was rarely electricity to power tools where his crews worked. James pulled another nail from the bag. The sweat was pooling around his eyes, sweat from the pain and not the physical labor.

He was not going to let this disease win. The nail dropped from fingers that could not hold it in place and he sighed heavily, hating the pain, hating the way his body was let
ting him down. He reached for another nail and tightened his grip on it, hating the burning pain that flared in his muscles in response to the action.

Kevin took the hammer out of his hand. “It is not going to help to let the pain cripple you.”

James wanted to swear at his helplessness but it was intangible; Kevin was there. “Give me the hammer back, Kevin.”

“It’s not the end of the world if you can’t be a builder anymore.”

“I am a carpenter, Kevin. That is who I am.” His anger was hot, directed at the illness, at his friend for putting into words what he knew but had not been willing to admit.

“There was a day Jesus walked away from his carpentry shop and did not go back. You’ve got to let it go, James. It looks like God has got other plans for you.”

James had seen the grim look on his friend’s face that morning. Kevin had been observing him for days. He knew the reality. James could deny the pain to his family, but Kevin knew better. It was minor consolation that his friend looked as pained by the reality as James felt.

James walked to the edge of the roof and took the ladder back down to the ground. Tired, exhausted, hurting and deeply discouraged, he pulled off his work gloves and unbuckled the tool belt he wore.

Kevin joined him. “James, this is not the end of the world. You just need more time.”

“It’s been six months, Kevin. Just how much longer do you suppose it will be before I can hold a hammer again for any length of time, be useful on a site?” James replied, feeling his body fighting against the pain in his joints. It was so crippling he would be lucky to be able to move tomorrow.

“It takes more than sweat equity to build a house.”

“I’m not the type to be behind a desk, Kevin,” James replied, angry at the situation, the brutal unfairness of it. He was good at what he did. The clinics he helped build saved lives. He loved the work. And the most black reality he had ever looked at was staring him in the face.

He wouldn’t be going back.

“J
ames?” The soft voice called from the front of the kennels.

James rested his arms across his knees, and three puppies immediately attacked the towel that no longer moved. The fourth puppy was over by the gate, growling at a grass-hopper that had dared to enter their playground. Margo was stretched out beside him, keeping watch on all her children.

“Back here, Rae.” This was the very last thing he wanted. He did not want to see her, he did not want to see any of his friends.

It had been three days. He supposed he should be grateful they had waited this long. He glanced at his watch. It was after seven o’clock. His mood had been so black, the pain so great, his anger so hot, that for the past few days he had tried to make himself scarce. His friends didn’t need to be around this.

He had left the doctor’s office this afternoon and come to the kennel. Puppies didn’t know how hard life could be; they only knew how to play and sleep and eat. They were
good company—they didn’t ask how he was doing, and he didn’t have to tell them.

The disappointment was overwhelming, to know his dream was over. He wanted to go back. It wasn’t easy to set aside that disappointment and act polite, friendly, calm. The last thing he wanted to hear was that this was God’s plan. James couldn’t believe this disease was part of God’s plan. He might have permitted it, and He would eventually make some good come out of the situation, but it didn’t make sense as part of His original plan.

He understood now Rae’s comment that she wanted the past back. Leo had died young and Rae’s dreams had been ripped away. This disease would hit and take away his dreams. The reality of such losses was heartbreaking.

“Hi,” Rae said softly, stepping outside to join him in the fenced-in run.

He was tired—tired of the situation, tired of the pain, tired of wondering what he was going to do now. But when he saw her, he smiled. He was glad to see her. He had missed her.

She had changed into jeans and an oversize Chicago Bulls T-shirt. She sat down on the grass near him, and the puppies tumbled over to join her.

She didn’t say anything, just sat playing with the puppies. He sat and watched her and was grateful.

He carefully rubbed his aching wrist. Even playing tug-of-war with a puppy was too much strain. He wondered who had called her. He had told his mom and Patricia about his doctor’s appointment before calling and having a long talk with Bob. Dave had probably heard from Kevin, and from there Lace and Rae would have heard.

James had no idea what had happened with the markets these past two days, didn’t know what Rae had been trying
to deal with. He knew she had spent the weekend at work. He should have at least caught the evening news the last few days. He wasn’t being much of a friend.

She looked weary. The kind of weariness that came from carrying a heavy load for a long time without a break.

One of the puppies tried to eat her shoelaces. James reached over and pulled the puppy over to him, offering the towel as compromise.

“Thanks.”

James smiled. “Sure.”

She looked at him, wanting to say something. James took pity on her, opened the door she needed. “I called Bob, canceled my plane tickets.”

“I heard,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, James.”

He knew she was. Of all his friends, she was the one most able to understand and empathize with the loss. “How have the markets been this week?”

“Ugly.”

She didn’t say anything else, and James knew her struggle to keep her job to sane limits was being lost. “How many hours has it been this week, Rae?”

“At the office from 5:00 a.m. to about 7:00 p.m., followed by late evenings at home trying to get the analysis work done. I am so tired of work.”

No time to work on her book, that went without saying. “I’m sorry, Rae.”

She smiled. “We’ve both got pretty big burdens to carry this month. I know you need some space for a few days, but I desperately needed a break, that’s why I decided to come by.”

“Rae, I’m glad you did. I’m not exactly good company right now, but I am glad to see you.”

She helped a puppy settle in her lap. “Dave is dragging
me to a baseball game Sunday afternoon. Would you like to come?”

He considered it for a few moments. “Yes.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“Have you had dinner yet, Rae?”

She blinked, surprised to realize she had not. “I meant to, but no. I think I left a plate of pasta in the microwave.”

James chuckled. “Come on, I’ll buy you a hamburger at the diner down the block. I want some ice cream and they make an awesome sundae.”

He expected her to decline, pleading lack of time or that she was not hungry or something. Her silence did last a few beats too long, but she nodded yes.

“Should we put the puppies inside?”

“Margo will corral them inside when she’s ready for them to settle down,” James replied. His body argued in pain as he moved to stand up, making him clench his jaw. Rae saw, but didn’t say anything. She did maneuver to be the one who opened the gate. James was almost grateful—almost. He intensely disliked needing the help.

The diner was a locally owned, popular place. It was late enough in the evening they were seated almost immediately. Rae glanced at the menu and ordered a bowl of soup and a salad. James frowned, but didn’t say anything. She was losing weight; she needed to eat more.

“I don’t want to talk about work, and you don’t want to talk about the pain. So what do we talk about?”

“Dave and Lace?” James offered with a smile.

Rae grinned. “A favorite subject. I hear they actually went out on a date last night.”

“Really?”

“Lace called me shortly before midnight. She woke me up—had to tell me all about it.”

“Let me guess, a museum showing?”

“Actually, dinner with a private collector Dave had met a year ago at a conference.”

“I’m glad. They make a good couple.”

“Do you really think Dave is ready to settle down? Lace has had a crush on him for so long, she doesn’t need to get hurt by being one of a list.”

James thought about it. “He’s ready to settle down. It’s in all the little things he does, the way he looks at her, the way he talks about kids.”

“Dave being a dad. That I never expected to see.”

“What about Lace? Does she want kids?”

“Very much. I think that’s why she started dating the tax attorney—she knows her time is running out.”

James wanted to know what Rae thought about the subject of children. She was the same age as Lace, so it had to be a concern for her as well. Had she written off that dream when Leo died? It would be a shame if she had. Rae would make a good mom.

Her meal and his ice cream arrived and neither one said much as they ate.

Did this constitute a date?
James wondered as Rae pushed aside her soup and salad, both only half-eaten.

“Not hungry?”

“Food doesn’t settle well anymore,” she admitted. She gave a rueful smile. “Lace will kill me if I’ve developed an ulcer.”

“Rae…”

“Don’t push, James. I’ll deal with it.”

“Do it soon,” he insisted.

“Yeah. I hate doctors.”

He smiled. “Now that I can understand.”

She realized what she had said, smiled back. “I bet you do.”

She glanced at her watch and sighed. “I’ve got to go. Work is waiting.”

James knew ignoring the work was simply an option Rae didn’t have. “Rae, remember to pace yourself, okay?”

“I’m trying. Honestly.”

He walked back with her to the kennel and to her car. He said goodbye with surprising reluctance.

It was a quiet spot, a bench in a local park that could look down on a ball field or over to a small playground, a place to pause and rest during a walk. James sat down, physically needing the break. He was trying—trying too hard—to exercise enough to keep his body improving, but not too much to cause more damage.

The recuperation was slow at best.

He sat down and carefully stretched his legs out.

God, I don’t understand.

I loved Africa. I loved serving people, building clinics, saving children’s lives. Now Father, here, I don’t have a purpose. I don’t even know where to begin.

I don’t understand why You ended such a long ministry in such an abrupt way. Why not some warning? Why not a sense that maybe I should start thinking about coming back to the States? Why so abrupt? One day I’m fine, the next week I’m in so much pain I can barely move. I feel like You abandoned who I was and what I was doing. You didn’t give me closure, Lord, You just took the ministry away.

What am I supposed to do in the States?

If You’ve taken away my ability to hold a hammer and saw, You’ve pretty much taken away who I am.

You have thousands of good architects here, Lord, thousands of good builders. Why take away a ministry that was doing some good for people?

I don’t understand.

All my life, even through the rough times, I have known You had a plan. For the first time, here, now, it feels like You’ve forgotten me.

The sun woke him Saturday morning, the light streaming into the bedroom and making him blink as he tried to read the time.

He moved cautiously to pull over a pillow, take the strain off his neck. His joints were stiff, his spine taut, but the burning pain was not as severe. James had begun to dread the first hour after he woke up, he was grateful that today was not as bad as the other mornings had been this last week. Time and rest were beginning to ease the symptoms.

If he was staying in the States, what did he want?

It had taken days to shake off the anger, the frustration of the situation and face the reality.

If he was staying in the States, what did he want to do?

It was time to accept reality and go on.

If he was building a new life in the States, then it was time to do it and quit wishing for what was not going to happen. Returning to Africa was not in his future.

He lay in bed looking at the ceiling, thinking.

Buy a house with a yard, that was definite.

Kevin wanted him to take over some of the architecture work and the idea was worth considering. He could work from home, do it at a pace he could tolerate.

Rae. He wanted to get to know her. More than just the surface he knew now. He liked her. He liked the twinkle in
her eyes, her smile, her laugh, her willingness to do what was required despite the personal costs.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

It was a big aching hole in his gut. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. If he was back, then he wanted what he had been delaying and saying “not yet” to for years—marriage and a family.

Patricia was due in mid-January. James knew seeing the baby was going to bring back lots of memories. It had been his favorite part of Africa, seeing the children at the clinics.

Rae liked kids. At church most Sundays he found her in the nursery, and the wistfulness in her eyes had not escaped him. She would like to be a mom.

Leo was a big problem. The sadness hadn’t left Rae’s eyes yet. She was still locked in the past, still grieving. The grief was easing, but it was still there. James wasn’t sure how to help her, how to ease that pain she carried.

He had to wait for his own health to stabilize again, but give him a few weeks and he would be fit again. He had to be. He could not imagine life where this pain didn’t eventually ease off. Three weeks to get Rae to say yes to a date. He had faced tougher assignments, not many, but a few.

She was an avid White Sox fan.

James looked over at her, surprised, when she stood up and yelled to get the attention of the third base player. The man turned, found them, smiled, waved back.

Dave looked around her. “Before he moved downtown, he used to hang out with us,” he explained.

James nodded, somehow not surprised.

Rae sat down again, and James reached over to snag the
drink she was waving around. “You’re surprising me,” he commented with a smile.

“Really? That’s good,” she replied, a twinkle in her eyes.

She leaned back and put her feet on the empty seat in front of her, picked up her binoculars again. They were five rows behind the White Sox bench; the binoculars were not really necessary.

It was a good day, with good company. Lace was somewhere, having disappeared to find nachos. Lace had hugged him when she saw him. The hug had hurt, but James had no intention of ever mentioning that, pleased to have her acknowledge without words what had happened. He had grinned when Lace had maneuvered them so Rae was sitting next to him.

James relaxed in the seat, stretching his legs out as best he could. The pain was moderate today, manageable.

They went out to eat after the game, an early dinner. Lace took them to a new Mexican place she had found. Rae, sitting in the seat beside him at the table, competed with him for the dish of hot sauce for the tortilla chips. “Rae, this is going to make your stomach a mess,” James cautioned quietly.

She hesitated over a chip. “You’re right. But I could be wrong about the problem. I’ll risk it.”

By the end of the meal, James could tell she was regretting the risk. Her face was pale and she had pulled back from the conversation.

“Dave, Lace, I hate to be the one to break up a party, but Rae and I have plans. We need to be going.”

Rae looked at him, surprised, but didn’t hesitate to take the silent offer, getting up and pushing back her chair.

“Stay and enjoy dessert,” he told Lace and Dave, smiling at the surprised look on both their faces.

“Of course,” Dave replied, smiling. “I’ll pick up the tab for dinner, go enjoy the night.”

“Thanks,” James replied, wishing it really was what he was trying to imply.

“Date?” James saw Lace ask Rae silently.

Rae just smiled and picked up her handbag. James quietly moved back to let her precede him as they walked through the restaurant tables. She hesitated as they stepped outside, looked around the parking lot. James reached for her hand and was shocked to find how cold and clammy it was. He looked at her, alarmed.