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  “You actually think Zach is going to show up here?”

  “Trust me,” Macey answered confidently. “He will be here. Particularly since I told him that you promised me that you would lighten up on him a little.”

  “You didn’t tell him that,” Kaitlyn said. “Shush.”

  A slight frost had glazed the lawn, and the air was sprinkled with the fresh scent of wet pine needles. The two women were making their way up the narrow walkway leading to the church when the cross emerged through the fog.

  “Wow,” Macey said, stopping and staring in disbelief. “How is anybody going to be able to fix that thing?”

  The cross was history. Its bottom portion was now a dewdarkened, six-foot-high, splintered stump, looking like it still grabbed for what was once its upper half—like an arm that had been severed at the elbow.

  Phantom limb, she thought, conceding that the cross was beyond repair.

  Had she seen it earlier, she would never have volunteered to find someone to fix it. It’s impossible. She studied the tiny drops of moisture that glistened like pieces of broken glass on the cross’s top side that rested in the wet grass, serving as a temporary playground for three robins that chirped and pranced playfully around it. She studied the quickness of the birds’ pipe-cleaner legs and figured maybe they were discussing their pending vacation south. Vacation, she thought. I wish I could get away for just a few days . . .

  “It’s ruined,” Kaitlyn said. “To get that even presentable, let alone fixed, is going to take a serious fund-raising campaign. Maybe we could at least get this dragged out of here today.”

  “That’s probably the best way to go,” Macey said, shaking her head. “I’m going to buy them a new cross.”

  “I don’t think anyone expects you to do that, Macey. C’mon.”

  “Hi, Dr. Lewis!” Brooke called from the front door of the church. She was wearing a cream-colored dress, a black cardigan sweater—the edges of which looked a bit frayed—and shoes that the doctor figured were reserved exclusively for Sundays. Brooke held the door open. “C’mon in, you guys; service is about to start. We’ll see to that old cross later.”

  As they entered the church, Macey was overcome by a sense of quaintness and warmth. She couldn’t help feeling welcome. Just being there felt right, and she was glad. Someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and she turned and witnessed the largest hand she had ever seen.

  “This is Charlie Lindy,” Brooke said. “He is Pastor Jim and Shirley’s son.”

  Macey looked up—and then up some more—before quickly realizing that the largest hand she’d ever seen belonged to the largest man she’d ever seen. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a slight tear in the breast pocket, giant-sized white tennis shoes, and a dark gray clip-on tie that was slightly crooked and only came to the bottom of his ribs. She guessed his height at close to seven feet as her hand and wrist disappeared into his gentle handshake. His blue eyes blinked innocently as he tilted his enormous head, encouraging her and Kaitlyn to take two church bulletins from his other hand.

  “Hello, big guy,” she said. She found it difficult to break eye contact with him, knowing something was wrong with him and that she was unqualified to help him. It made her feel a little sad.

  “Hi, Charlie,” Kaitlyn added, looking up at him as he greeted them back with another quick nod of his head.

  “Would you guys like to sit with us?” Brooke asked, pointing toward the second pew.

  “Of course,” Macey answered, quickly scanning the rest of the church. There were twelve to fifteen other people. Flowers were neatly tucked in vases beneath each stained glass window. Hymnals and Bibles were all straight and tidy in their compartments behind the pews. It was clear to her that these people were doing their best on a limited budget. No insurance, she remembered. Now it all made more sense.

  As Brooke led them up the aisle, Macey noticed a tiny pair of eyes peeking over the edge of the pew. The little redhead slowly rose to his knees and leaned forward against the back of the bench to completely face them. He had on a short-sleeve dress shirt and a small, dark gray clip-on tie—a miniature replica of Charlie’s. His short, red hair was gel-spiked and slightly brushed to the side. Those freckles that surrounded his nose bunched together as he instinctively smiled when he spotted his mother approaching. Macey could still see his name on the medical chart. Alexander Robert Thomas. Within twenty-four hours he would be her patient.

  “Guys,” Brooke whispered. “This is Dr. Lewis and her friend Kaitlyn.”

  “Hi!” Alex shouted.

  “Shh, buddy,” Brooke said, apologetically raising a finger to her lips.

  “He is so cute,” Kaitlyn said softly.

  “That’s my son, Alex,” Brooke said, “and that’s my friend Carla.”

  “Hi, everybody,” Macey said, recognizing Carla from the visiting room. She was one of the people standing in front of the aquarium.

  Brooke pointed to the piano. “That’s Shirley, and Pastor Jim will be out in a minute.”

  The piano stopped playing, and everyone stood. Macey looked at Alex, and they exchanged playful grins before he took refuge behind his mother’s leg.

  Charlie came and joined them at the end of the pew. The music resumed with “I’ve Got a Friend in Jesus,” a song that Macey remembered from her childhood. She and Kaitlyn opened the hymnals and each pretended to mouth the words, too embarrassed to have the other hear her voice. Macey secretly admired—maybe even envied—Carla’s singing voice. It was lovely, in tune.

  Kaitlyn nudged her, and they both looked at Charlie, who also held a hymnal and was swaying, not singing, along with the song. Alex continued to smile mischievously and stare both of them down before adjusting Charlie’s hymnal. It was upside down.

  As Pastor Jim came up the center aisle, Macey quickly realized where Charlie had gotten at least a portion of his height. She guessed that the minister was about six foot four, and she also admired how thin and clean-cut he was. He walked confidently in his white and burgundy robe while singing heartily in a deep baritone.

  When Pastor Jim turned around and faced the gathering, Macey felt like a weight tugged on her heart. She could see his ravaged eyes from the second pew. He was clearly blind.

  “Good morning, friends,” he said, emitting a welcoming smile. “Please, let’s greet one another.”

  She watched as he walked forward and to his left to the first pew and held out his hand. It was taken by an older man, likely in his seventies, and close to a foot shorter than the minister.

  “Good morning, Alton,” Pastor Jim said. He then turned his head to the frail, bluish-haired woman next to Alton. “Good morning, Pauline.”

  Macey felt as if she had made eye contact with him as he stepped back into the aisle and to the second row.

  “Good morning,” he said, “looking” right at her.

  “Good morning,” she said into sightless eyes.

  “I’m Pastor Jim,” he said kindly. “Thank you so much for being here today.”

  “Thanks for having us,” she said, wondering how in the world he knew they were standing there. “I’m Macey Lewis, and with me is Kaitlyn Harby.”

  “Hello, Kaitlyn,” he said, taking her hand as everyone else in the church appeared to be shaking a hand, saying hello, or hugging someone.

  When Pastor Jim returned to the front of the church, Macey noticed him look at Shirley, who lightly tapped on what had to be the highest note on the piano. She’s letting him know that she’s there.

  The minister nodded, then smiled at his wife before closing his eyes. “Let’s pray.”

  During the prayer, Macey felt like she was breaking one of God’s laws by looking around the church again. Bowed heads were absorbing the minister’s words of hope, love, and thankfulness. Little Alex was leaning against Charlie. Brooke’s hands kneaded the top of her thighs, as if anxious. Carla had her arms crossed and her legs were jittering nervously against each other. Macey looked back up towar
d the piano and at Shirley.

  She also had her eyes open.

  Macey watched the way the woman was looking at her husband as he neared the end of the prayer. She was fixed in admiration, soaking up every word he said, as if she felt each one. Shirley clearly loved her husband. They were the real deal. How long had it been since she’d witnessed such love and devotion?

  The prayer ended, and Brooke went to the pulpit and started reading from Isaiah 53. Macey grabbed a Bible, but Brooke was done reading by the time either she or Kaitlyn could even find the book of Isaiah.

  Carla stood. Apparently she was going to read something too.

  Alex had recaptured Macey’s attention with a bashful smile as he crossed his arms and leaned back to let his tiny legs dangle over the edge of the bench. She figured he wasn’t used to seeing strangers at church, and when she winked at him, he unsuccessfully tried to wink back, closing both eyes.

  Alex slid over in the pew and tapped Macey on the leg. “My grandpa and grandma are in heaven.”

  “So are mine,” she whispered.

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Really,” she said.

  Carla went to the pulpit for the New Testament reading from Matthew 18. She cleared her throat and then read what appeared to be smoothly and confidently: “‘Assuredly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again I say to you that if two of you agree on earth concerning anything that they ask, it will be done for them by My Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered to—to—um—to . . .’” Carla stuttered and paused like she had a piece of dry clay stuck in her throat.

  Macey glanced up at her. Carla had stepped back from the pulpit and had her head slightly lowered. Her arms were straight down at her sides, and she was looking out at the congregation like an ashamed little girl who had been reprimanded by her mother for not cleaning her room.

  Macey ran her hand across the back of her neck and listened.

  I can hear it.

  Pastor Jim had turned his head toward Carla, then toward Shirley. Macey knew he had to be wondering what was going on, as did everyone else.

  They can hear it too.

  It was that strange and uncomfortable silence. The same one that was in her office the other day. It poured into the small church, surrounded them.

  Kaitlyn nudged her and then nodded—not at Carla, but over at Brooke, whose pretty green eyes had lit up with a pleasant smile that dimpled her cheeks. She was looking behind them.

  Macey turned around to see what Brooke was staring at.

  It was the construction worker. He was sitting in the back row.

  He was unshaven, dressed in work clothes, and sat perfectly still. He was leaning forward, resting his forearms on the back of the pew in front of him. But his eyes were only on Carla.

  “Small world,” Kaitlyn whispered. “Looks like our new friends already know one another.”

  “Yeah,” Macey said, lifting her arm and giving the carpenter a subtle little wave hello.

  Kenneth didn’t even glance in her direction. He only gave what appeared to be a confidence-boosting nod of encouragement to Carla, and by the time Macey turned back around, Carla’s voice had pierced through the silence in the room like a shot out of a cannon as she resumed the reading.

  ELEVEN

  Sure, Dr. Norman,” the woman said. “I could probably swing by there to take a few pictures.”

  Zach held his phone to his ear as he sat in the parking lot of CC’s Sporting Goods. The driver’s side door of his three-week-old Mercedes was open, and he was relishing the new-car smell that seemed to be enhanced by the clean, fall air. He eyed the ruffled, white packing paper that was hanging out of an empty shoe box on the passenger’s seat that read “Red Wing Shoes—Since 1905.” As he wiggled his toes, he was pleasantly surprised at how good the boots felt, considering their affordable $76.70 price tag, which was almost $400 less than his previous footwear purchase.

  “I think it would be great press for the hospital,” he said, pulling the car door closed. “I can see it now on the front page of the Carlson Herald this coming Wednesday—‘East Shore Professionals Nurse Cross Back to Health.’”

  “That sounds pretty good,” she said.

  “Unless you can think of something better,” he added, confident she couldn’t.

  “I think your idea sounds real good,” she said. “I’ll put something together for you.”

  “I would owe you big time,” he responded, fully aware that he was playing a bit of a bully, but sometimes a guy had to be that way to get things done. He didn’t mind playing the bigwig from East Shore, which happened to be the paper’s largest advertiser. It had all kinds of perks.

  “Okay,” she said. “What time do you want me out there?”

  Zach smiled and started the Mercedes. “Hang on a second, Shannon,” he said, setting the phone down on the car seat. He just had to check it. He carefully listened and noticed that he could barely hear the car’s engine. It was perfect. He picked up the phone. “Church ends at eleven. How about eleven thirty?”

  “Okay, Dr. Norman.”

  “You’re the greatest, Shannon. Thanks again.”

  “THIS GUY IS GOOD,” KAITLYN WHISPERED AS PASTOR Jim’s voice resonated throughout the small church toward the end of his sermon.

  “Awesome,” Dr. Lewis responded.

  “I’m asking you to be thankful,” Pastor Jim said, stepping out from behind the pulpit.

  Macey glanced over at Charlie, who was giving a small piece of white candy or a mint to Alex. She watched the giant man squint at a tiny clear box that he held up in front of his face. Tic Tacs, she thought. Those are Tic Tacs.

  “Be thankful,” Pastor Jim repeated.

  The way the minister said it actually had Macey wanting to be thankful.

  She watched him pause as he slid his right foot carefully forward on the carpet, feeling for the top of the two steps, before he walked down in front of the first pew. The minister stopped and waited again before lifting his hands to close his sermon.

  “Friends,” he said, talking barely loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m asking you to think about something. When you go home today, ask yourselves if maybe—just maybe—you spend too much time worrying about what you don’t have, when you should be taking the opportunity to be thankful for what you do have.” He smiled, then walked back up the steps and turned around.

  Shirley began playing the piano, and the whole congregation stood.

  “He is so right,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Yes, he is,” Macey agreed, once again looking around the church. Old Alton had put his arm around Pauline, and most of the people were still nodding their heads in agreement with the message that the minister had delivered. She looked back at Pastor Jim and privately wished he could see the good he had just done.

  “Zach’s here,” Kaitlyn said, holding up her cell phone. “He only texted me seven times. Good thing I had my phone on mute.”

  “I’ll go out there and bring him in,” Macey said.

  “You gonna have cookies and punch?” a little voice said. It was Alex.

  “You really have cookies?” Macey asked. “And punch?”

  “Really,” Alex answered. The little guy actually looked surprised that she was impressed with the menu.

  “I gotta have some then,” she said, reaching down for a highfive, which he gladly gave. “I’ll be right back, but can you help me with something?”

  “Help you with what?” he asked.

  “Can you take my friend here to the cookies and make sure you guys save one for me?”

  “There’s a lot,” he said. “Charlie can’t even eat all them cookies.” He scooted by her in the pew and held up his hand for Kaitlyn. “C’mon, I’ll show you where the cookies are.”

  “You’ll do that for me?” Kaitlyn asked, using the voice she reserved only for kids. She leaned over and took his hand. “Aw
esome!”

  As Macey watched Alex lead Kaitlyn toward what looked like a small reception room, she thought about how much she loved that voice Kaitlyn had just used. How much she appreciated her friend. Kaitlyn did so much more than deliver medications, shots, and food that the kids didn’t like. The kids loved Kaitlyn, and so did just about everybody at the hospital. All the staff on the third floor knew that she understood the difference between hope and hype, and that it wasn’t uncommon for her to stick around after her shift had ended, normally to relieve tired parents who desperately needed an hour or so to go home and catch up on personal matters. They also knew that during some of those same hours, Kaitlyn had held the hands or stroked the heads of dying children, assuring them that they were not alone as they let go.

  Brooke tapped her on the shoulder. “Did you enjoy the service, Dr. Lewis?”

  “It was excellent,” Macey answered, watching the carpenter dip into the reception area. “I’m so glad I came, and please call me Macey.”

  “Sorry about the little pause we had,” Brooke said. “Me and Carla met that guy who was sitting in the back the other night. She was a little surprised to see him show up here at church, of all places.”

  “Is she all right? It looked like she regained her composure pretty well.”

  “I just talked to her,” Brooke said. “She was laughing about it. She said she looked up and saw him sitting back there and freaked out a little bit.”

  “He is the carpenter volunteer from the hospital,” Macey said. Somehow it relieved a little of the responsibility she felt over that irreparable cross out front. Kenneth wasn’t just the guy she’d brought along to hopefully save the day; they knew him too.

  “Seriously?” Brooke said. “What are the odds of that?”

  “Speaking of volunteers,” Macey said. “Excuse me while I run out and get the last one. He’s outside.”

  “Okay,” Brooke said. “See you in the fellowship hall and then we’ll see what we are gonna do about the cross.”

  “Perfect,” Macey said, heading toward the door.

  She went outside, and Zach was leaning on the wooden handrail that led down to the parking lot.