In the Name of Love

In the Name of Love

by Andrea Lena Dimaggio

Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later,
and then you still have to decide what to do. ” C.S. Lewis

Paul Atreides and Frodo and Sam and a host of others had traipsed through their bedroom on a nightly basis for the past few years. And Carlo and Danny would have signed up to fight for freedom or hunt for Orcs or even dare to enter Mordor. But not Mark.

If King Peter the Magnificent had been real he would have welcomed the younger boys as Kings of Narnia…Sons of Adam. But he would be completely surprised to find out the oldest boy would have shied away from battle since he wanted with all his heart to be as kind and caring and sweet as Queen Susan the Gentle…

Scotch Plains, New Jersey, 2009, the Albanese home...

“But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

Mark stared at his father as the man finished reading the story. Even at the fourth time through, the boys loved it just as much as the first time; all except for Mark, who turned on the futon and faced the wall. His father had been paying heed to his brothers. Carlo beamed as his father closed the book and placed it on the nightstand between their two beds. And Danny put his head back on his pillow and smiled

“And who wants to be a King in Narnia?”the man asked with a soft laugh. Danny raised his hand and waved excitedly; he was the most animated of the three. Mark rubbed his eyes in fatigue; he looked tired, but it wasn’t from the hour, but more out feeling completely out of place in his own home. If Carlo wanted to be a King, so be it. If Danny wanted to go to war for Narnia, that was all well and good.

It wasn’t as if Mark didn’t appreciate the story; even at fourteen, he still enjoyed his father’s reading. Since their mother’s death, it was not only a nice way of connecting, but of remembering since Louise and Jerry had shared that wonderful task. Tolkien. L’Engle. Even an intro to Heinlein and Herbert. It wasn't so much what the story said as much as what it meant and how painful it was...

One year later...Faith Chapel, Scotch Plains, New Jersey...

“Your boys are very keen on the church camping trip, Jer.” Pastor McKenna said, but his expression seemed to belie his words.

“What’s wrong, Pat?” Jerry shook the man’s hand, feeling awkward. Pat McKenna pulled him close and grasped his arm; almost knight-like in the strong grip.

“Mark told Sean that he’s skipping the Men’s retreat next month. I’m wondering why he’d do that in light of your position here.” The words weren’t intended to be coercive but they gripped Jerry just as much as the strong hand of the shepherd of their fellowship.

“I talked to him about it. He feels that he needs to take a break; we’ve been going non-stop since the beginning of the year and it’s just more about him needing to have some time to himself. It's only been two years since...well, since Louise passed. You understand?”

Pat understood but didn’t accept Mark’s decision at all.

“We think it’s best that he attend; after all, Jerry, you are the care pastor here.”

“We? You…and who else?” Jerry shook his head; not so much in disagreement as in surprise.

“Just me and Dave and Cal, Jer. It’s really important that Mark set an example for the rest of the boys as a young man in Christ, no matter what he might be going through himself. You understand, right, Jer?”

“Oh…let me talk to him, okay?” Pat’s expression didn’t seem to leave any room for failure; Mark would be expected to attend the retreat and that would be the end of that.

That evening...

The room had grown quiet other than the pop and hiss of the burning logs in the fireplace. A compound bow lay on the hearth along with a quiver of arrows. Mark sat on the sofa across from Jerry; Carlo and Danny were at a friend’s house for dinner.

“But Dad…you said it was okay?”

Without comment, Jerry stood up suddenly and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of mugs and the coffee pot off the counter. It’s been said that when you want to talk about how you feel, you share a pot of tea. And when you want to solve a problem, you put on a pot of coffee. Mark felt that more than just his decision was a problem; not just in the eyes of the church leadership, but with his father as well.

“I know, but Pat says that we really need to show an example; as a way of getting other young men involved and interested. Mark shook his head; a barely noticeable gesture that his father noticed nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, Mark, but you know that as a pastor's kid, you really should expect to have more responsibility.” Not just the things that would be expected, but a mindset to follow whatever path was placed before him, no matter how he felt.

“But Dad….”

“No, Mark. I understand you’re disappointed, but we all have to pull our weight. You understand, don’t you?” The boy nodded without remark other than a breathless sigh.

The office of Marie Chang, therapist...a few days later...

“Mark? You’ve been awfully quiet. I know the anniversary of your mother's passing is growing close.” Marie looked at the boy and half-frowned; an expression of empathy for the boy’s recent struggles. Mark unfolded his arms and quickly refolded them in an embrace.

“It’s …. You know it bothers me that we don’t read anymore.” He put his head down.

“Well, you’re past fifteen, and your brothers are getting older.”

Marie felt that no one could really outgrow books like The Silver Chair or The Hobbit. Most boys and some girls were more likely forced by convention or expectations to abandon the friends they had grown to know and love in their favorite books. Some, thankfully she felt, never did, and kept that life-long bond between reader and author.

Mark wasn’t about outgrowing his childhood so much as re-defining and even reconstructing his past. Identifying things long-buried and coming to grips with needs long ignored made it better for a teenager, but not at all for the son of a pastor; albeit one lower in the pecking order of church, to be sure, but still one with the demands and expectations of others.

“Carlo still reads the books on his own. Danny asked Dad to read, but he said it was time to put away childish things. I mean, come on! Childish? It feels like getting beat up with Scripture.” The boy’s words faltered and he choked back a sob.

“It’s important for all of you to remember, isn’t it?”

“When he read…when he reads to us, it’s like life comes back for us as a family. But now? It’s like he forgot all about Mom.” The boy shook his head as tears began to flow.

“Reading the stories honors her memory.” Marie said softly, knowing it was so much more for the boy before her.

“It reminds me of the end of the Last Battle, where Susan doesn’t even come into…. Like she’s no longer interested. I'm like when Susan's actually sweet and caring and Dad is like when Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia..." His voice trailed off and Marie was tempted to interject 'and no longer yours, either,' but thought better of it.

"Mom knew, and I thought Dad was beginning to understand….you know? And then...”

The boy had spoken more than several times about more recent bouts of self-discovery; even telling his father about the long talks he'd have with his Mom when Jerry was off helping tend to the flock. But his father said it was all well and good to feel that way, but that he had to change for everyone’s sake; it felt almost as bad. No, it felt worse than when Louise died because the pain Mark felt seemed to go on and on, and that it would indeed go on forever. Somehow it made sense that the pain of his grief would subside because he knew he'd see his Mom again, but he feared he'd never see his future....his future fulfilled.

“The closer I get to who I am the further away he feels….like he’s moving away. But I can’t let go of who I am. Why can’t he see that? It feels like I don’t have… like I’ll never….”

“You’re afraid that you’ll lose part of yourself, aren’t you?” She knew, of course, that it was only a beginning of Mark’s fears.

“He wants me to go to the Men’s Retreat. I don’t even have a say. I can’t, Marie. I just can’t.”

“What part of going hurts the most, Mark? What would be the most harmful part of that?” She knew his next answer as well, but asked the question anyway to give him a place to be heard.

“I thought after our last time with you and me and him and Danny and Carlo that I could…. My brothers think it’s weird, but they still …. It’s like it’s okay with them.”

“Because they love you, anyway?” The boy nodded as he wiped his face with his hand.

“But it feels like your father doesn’t?” A very pronounced nudge meant to be freeing seemed to miss its mark as the boy turned his head toward the wing of the sofa. After a few moments of silence, the boy turned back to her and spoke.

“No….it’s because he does. But he loves what I’m supposed to be. Who everyone thinks I am. How do I deal with that? How can I argue with that when ….”

“He means well, but that doesn’t help you at all, does it?” She shook her head to mirror Mark’s expression.

“I mean….he loves me. Shouldn’t I be grateful for that?” Too much insight for a fifteen year old; his words seemed to back him into a corner that no one understood would lead to a life-long sentence of frustration and sadness.

“You are grateful. But it’s not enough to give love if it’s conditional; even if those conditions are unspoken or even unconsciously held. You’ve told your father how you feel, and what has his response been?” Marie paused for a moment. The boy seemed to be gathering his thoughts, but she quickly corrected herself.

“You’ve told your father what you know; it’s more than what you feel, but what you believe about yourself, right?” Mark nodded and half-smiled but he continued to cry wordlessly.

“I know it’s hard to think of this right now, since he’s pushing for you to go to this event. But that’s not the thing that worries you…or rather, just going isn’t what is troubling you, is it?” The boy shook his head and wiped his face once again with his hand.

“It’s what attending the retreat would mean…to him…to your brothers…to the rest of the church…. What it would say to everyone when you want to tell everyone something else entirely, right?” He nodded once but shook his head.

“We talked about when to change…. I think very soon is the time. Have you given any more thought to that?” She smiled warmly and stood up. As he thought she disappeared for a few moments before returning with something shiny in her hand.

“Dark chocolate always helps me think.” She handed him the foil wrapped candy. He broke off a few small pieces in almost a timid fashion.

“You can have more if you like,” she said as she placed the packet on the table in front of the couch.

“Names are important for so many reasons. And hardly anyone gets to choose their own. But I believe you need to speak your name to your family; at least at first to your Dad. We can do it here, if you like.”

“I…think I can tell him tonight when I get home.” Marie nodded; almost but not quite reluctant. The act of confession, as it is defined by the root words, means to say the same thing. The boy would be speaking for the first time to his father and perhaps his family the same thing as he knew himself to be. Rather, he would be speaking, not as a boy pleading his case before a well meaning if ignorant father, but as a young woman who would be telling her family exactly who and what she was.

"Maybe next week in my office?" The boy's frown ended that discussion. She nodded.

“Okay. I think you’ll do just fine,” she said with a cautious smile. It wasn't the best choice; she had wanted Jerry to come to the session that afternoon for everyone's sake, but he canceled to do a visitation at the hospital. The boy nodded but the relief of making the decision was too much for the moment and he burst into tears; sobbing with a peaceful if unfamiliar freedom. And Marie knew that no matter how successful the pastor's kid would be in expressing the truth, Jerry Albanese would see the truth through the prism of his own beliefs. And that meant that 'just fine' still would be very, very painful.

That evening...

“Dad?”

“Hey.” Jerry sidled to the edge of the wide couch, leaving room.

“What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you. I…”

“You know you can tell me anything.” Jerry smiled, but the boy half-frowned.

“I….sometimes….”

“Really, you can tell me anything,” he insisted, making it more about him at that point.

“We’ve talked about this before, Dad.”

“Come on, Mark…not that again.”

“It’s who I am, Dad. I’m sorry.” The boy put his head down and began to sob. A few seconds passed before he felt a hand raise his chin.

“No, Mark. I’m sorry. I’ve been pushing you too hard. This is an awfully confusing time for you, and I should have been sensitive. I know you miss your Mom and all, and Pastor Pat is convinced it’s just a phase you’re going through. It’s alright. Even Christians boys get conflicted and confused. You don’t have to go to the retreat.” Jerry half-smiled.

“You told him? We agreed that you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“You tell your therapist. What’s wrong with me telling Pat?” Jerry shook his head impatiently.

“I….it’s my life. And my decision. You had no right to say anything.”

“He’s our pastor, Mark.”

“No, Dad….he’s the pastor. You’re my pastor. And Carlo’s and Danny’s, Dad. I trusted you.

“Your secret is safe with him, Mark. He won’t say a word to anyone.” Jerry practically pled; not to be sorry but to not be in trouble.

“It’s not safe because he knows…He knows all about me and we both know already what he believes.”

“How is that so wrong? He’s looking out for you…for us.” Right in a manner of speaking, but not quite correct, since looking out meant expectations and demands and even words that were spoken in public which condemned who the boy really was in private.

“I can’t even …. What…. you promised…. You promised!” Mark began to sob; not hysterically even in the midst of angry tears, but an almost low moan of helplessness. Jerry tried to hug him, but he pulled away.

“You promised….” The boy got up off the couch and ran down the hall to his room. A few moments later Jerry stood at the closed door and knocked; a firm and insistent rap that demands to be heard rather than the urgent need to hear.

“Go away….”

“Mark? Come on….Mark?”

“Dad…this is who I am…what I am. I’m sorry if that doesn’t fit, but I don’t know what else to do other than be myself.

“No son of mine!” Jerry snapped but stopped just short of the expression of anger and judgment he felt toward his oldest child.”

“I’m not your son, Dad….please?” The words were halting and low, but distinct enough to be heard and still ignored.

“Mark, you’re my son. Stop it!” Demands, misconceptions, fear; even a bit of hatred mixed with the true, deep-down love the man had for his oldest; diluting that love to the point of tepid tolerance.

“Daddy! Please?” Sobs mixed with shouts. A child feeling small and helpless and abandoned.

“Mark….come on, open the door!” The man with the closed mind and heart dismissed the sad pleas.

“Daddy…. Go away! I hate you!” Words that were more a fruit of hopelessness and futility than conviction. Jerry went to knock harder on the door but thought better of it. And inside the room, a lonely figure lay in the dark on the bed, crying softly while repeating over and over,

“My name is Susan.”

One year later…at the office of Marie Chang…

Marie sat in the armchair across from the sofa; a mug of herbal tea grew cold on the table in front of her, ignored as she sat in rapt attention at the young lady before her. The girl wore jeans and a wide-necked plum tee-shirt over a white camisole. She played nervously with the curls that covered her right ear.

“What did they say then?” She smiled at the girl and picked up her tea and took a sip.

“Well. The kids for the most part were fine; especially the younger teens. A couple of the girls patted me on the back; at least until Rob glared at them. One boy shook his head at me…came right up and shook his head. He was one of the kids I used to….well, we were friends.” She stared out the window.

“Rob? The Youth Pastor?” Susan nodded.

“That must have hurt,” Marie said softly.

“Joey and I practically grew up together. And he ignores me in school even though we were lab partners last year. It’s like the first sixteen years of my life count for nothing.” She bit her lip.

“And Tim didn’t even look at me. The rest of the few minutes I was there, he just stood off to the side while Rob told me how much God loved me while shoving me out the door.”

“So you’re not welcome there?” Marie knew, of course, that the girl was more than merely not welcome; it was a systematic if unconscious move on the part of her church to distance themselves from her.

“He said that as long as I dressed like a girl….Like a girl? I am a girl. Why doesn’t anyone understand that?” She pounded her fist once on the armrest and began to cry.

“What did the kids say to you after he told you to leave?” Marie leaned closer and half-smiled. She handed the girl a box of tissues. The girl wiped her face and spoke softly.

“Teresa walked up to me and hugged me. Rob told her to stop and she turned and shook her head. Her brother grabbed her by the arm but she shook him off. And Lisa and Rick came up and patted me on the back. Rob told them to let me go, and they backed away. I know it’s hard for both of them, seeing how Pastor Pat is their uncle. Theresa hugged me again and she called me later.”

“It hurts that the church is turning its back on you. “

“I didn’t do anything wrong. It hurts that they see this,” she pointed to her body, “is wrong in their eyes.”

“What hurts the most, Susan?” Marie knew the answer, but she wanted to hear the girl say the words, as painful as they might be.

“I can’t…. They….”

“I know you can’t return, but that’s not what hurts the most.”

“Dad…..When I told him, he just sighed and shook his head. ‘I told you this would happen, Mark.’ Even now he refuses to use my name. He won’t even let Carlo or Danny say my name. Carlo says it anyway and Danny calls me Sis; it pisses him off so much that…. He’s angry with me all the time. My grades are good in school. I do everything he asks...I just don't understand.” She frowned as tears streamed down her face.

“But it’s not enough. Nothing you do pleases him.”

“I didn’t ask for this. He thinks….like Pastor Pat told him; I’m going through a phase because of Mom’s death. I mean what the…” She stopped in mid-sentence; her face, already hot and red from the crying, grew darker.

“No judgment, Susan, right?”

“What the fuck! I felt like this…. I knew when I was seven. Why does he ignore that? If Mom hadn’t died…”

“She would have helped him understand?”

“I think….maybe?”

“Did your father get hard to speak to when your Mom died?”

“Yes….” She paused and took a deep breath.

“No….he was like this when we first started talking about me…this me…when Mom wasn’t even sick. I guess.” Susan closed her eyes and sighed.

“I think he really started getting like this when Mom got sick. Like nothing was going to work, so he decided to let God fix things.”

“He didn’t fix your Mom, did he?”

“No…. I still don’t understand why.” The small tinge of anger was overshadowed by the girl’s faith, and she continued.

“But Daddy….it feels like everything is wrong and he’s got to fix it…to make it right…to make it better.”

“Like you, Susan?”

“Ye…yes… I’m wrong….I’m just wrong.” She didn’t mean to snap at Marie, but her words came out brusque and almost dismissive, as if Marie should have known.

“It’s not just that he thinks you’re making bad decisions, is it?”

“No….” She put her head down for a moment, and when she lifted it, her face was a mask of confusion and doubt and guilt.”

“He thinks…. I am bad. I…I am wrong.”

“Are you bad, Susan? Have you done or said anything wrong?” Marie shook her head and the girl put her head down and began to sob.

“No, Marie….why does he hate me? Why can’t my Dad love me for who I am?”

“I wish I knew, Susan.” Marie felt almost defeated until the girl half-frowned and shuddered.

“It hurts so much. More than when Mom died. Maybe he never got over that?” So much wisdom in the midst of so much pain.

“I think you’re right, Susan. I hope he comes to understand that. I really do. But for you? Are you unlovable? Are you wrong?” She shook her head once again; not meaning to prompt the girl, but her gesture helped anyway.

“I….I’m okay.” It wasn’t a shout of triumph, but it was a victory nonetheless.

At the church offices a few days later…

“I’m sorry, Jerry, but we feel it’s best for everyone.” Pat McKenna half-frowned in sympathy. He actually meant well, even if the decision wasn’t really the right one for anyone.

“But I can’t disown my child.” Jerry put his arms out a bit in plea.

“You’re not disowning your son; you’re disciplining him. A loving father disciplines his son, right? You’re just putting him in a place where he can make better choices…if he stays under your roof, you’ll be endorsing his behavior.”

“Where will he go? He’s only seventeen? What will my other boys say? What will I tell them?”

“That’s a job only you can handle, Jer. You’ve got to be firm. The boy will come around and do what’s right.”

“I’m not even sure what’s right anymore. I’ve been reading about the whole gender thing.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sure that there are actually some people who are anomalytic….”

“But his therapist says…”

“Really, Jerry? What do you expect her to say? That’s her world view. But it’s a matter of what’s true…Male and Female he created them, Jer. Your son is a young man, and the sooner he comes to that conclusion the better. You’d only make it harder to see that by allowing him to stay in the comfort of the home.”

“But Pat….he’s my son.”

“Exactly, Jer. But he won’t accept that unless you’re a father to him instead of a friend. It’s for the best. And of course your responsibility as a care pastor lies in the midst of this. For everyone’s sake, you have to ask him to leave.”

Later that day, at the Albanese home…

“So that’s that? I thought you love her, Dad.” Carlo sat at the kitchen table across from Danny. Both boys looked more than frustrated.

“Not her, Carlo….him. Why can’t you boys see that your brother is in sin?”

“What? She’s your daughter, Dad! Look at the way she acts. Listen to her voice. Does Susan sound like a boy?”

“Pastor Pat says that she’s probably …”

“Probably what, Dad? Possessed?” Danny interjected. He shook his head and stood up and walked over to Jerry, standing face to face.

“Susan is my sister, Dad. You can’t just send her away. It’s fucking wrong.”

“Don’t you use that language in this house, Danny!”

“Or what? Will you kick me out, too? What’s worse, Dad? The word ‘fuck’ or disowning your own fucking child?” Danny stared at his father for a moment before walking into the living room. He sat down on the sofa and picked up the cable remote. A second later he had jumped back off the sofa and was back in the kitchen.

“Where the hell will she go? She’s only seventeen!”

“She can go live with your Aunt Lina for all I care.”

“What?” Carlo asked.

“Your Aunt Lina…what I just said!” Jerry shook his head, completely missing Carlo’s tone.

“No, Dad. Not where or with whom. I don’t understand. For all you care? Isn’t that what this is supposed to be about? That you care about her enough to send her away? It sounds like you don’t fucking care at all.”

“Now don’t you start!”

“Or what, Dad? Are you going to send us both away? Jesus H. Christ, Dad. For a care pastor, you don’t make me feel cared for at all.” Carlo got up and walked up to Jerry.

“I love you, but this is wrong, Dad, and you know it. I’m going for a walk.” He hugged Jerry quickly before walking out the back door and off.

“I….I don’t know what to do. You understand, don’t you, Danny?” He held his arms open in question.

“Oh, I understand, Dad. And you know exactly what to do. Do you care enough to do it? I don’t think so. Sorry, Dad, but I’m too fucking pissed off to hug you, and I’m not so sure I want to be around you right now.” Danny shook his head and Jerry walked closer, trying to hug him.

“No, Dad. Tough love, right?” Danny pushed him back and stormed out the back door. Jerry shook his head and began to cry.

At the church offices the following week…

“Don’t worry, Jer. It’s all for the best.” Pat McKenna said, looking up from his desk.

“I know this hurts now, but in the long run it will prove that it’s the right decision. The boy is over at your sister-in-law’s house, and soon will come to realize just what he’s missing by his rebellion and foolish pride. And we won’t say anything publicly; the board and the pastoral staff already know and stand behind you one hundred per cent, okay?”

“And everything is okay with us?” Jerry sounded like a child in the principal’s office.

“Of course. Just fine, Jerry, just fine.”

As Marie had surmised, everything was going to turn out just fine, but sadly it would be with a great deal of pain.

Two years later…

The fading sunlight barely made it through the window to cast a soft glow on Susan’s back pack, which lay on the sofa in the living room. She placed her bow on the love seat and walked into the kitchen where her Aunt Lina stood waiting with two mugs of coffee. She sat down and breathed out a frustrated sigh. Her school didn’t offer women’s archery so she spent her afternoons at an archery club in Linden; one of the few things she still enjoyed. She smiled warmly and took the proffered mug from her Aunt’s hand.

“Still a struggle, honey? I’m so sorry,” the woman said softly.

“College isn’t quite as bad as high school, but that still doesn’t make it at all easier does it?” Lina DePasquale asked as she sat down at the kitchen table across from the young lady she had come to love more as a daughter than as a niece. And since the State of New Jersey endorsed her kindred care adoption, Susan was able to gain some help that her father otherwise denied her.

“There are a few guys on campus that act like fools with everybody, so I don’t feel so singled out.” Susan sipped her coffee almost reluctantly, as if by finishing the cup she’d be consigned to yet another ‘life’ task that required emotional gymnastics and her barely developed sense of self-esteem.

“But you do have that one boy, right?”

“It’s not even the teasing. If it was just that, I think I could deal better with it. But having someone who knew me …. We grew up together and he’s become almost hateful. Like somehow my being who I am is hurting him.”

“It doesn’t help that he’s the son of the pastor.” Lina regretted the words as soon as she spoke them; the church had literally turned its back on the girl, which would have been hard enough. But to have her father disown her?

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, Susan.” She shook her head. The girl smiled weakly.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” You know what they say when someone says they’re fine? Lina didn’t fall for that at all.

“It can’t be fine, honey. Not when you have to live here instead of at home.”

“This is my home, Aunt Lina.” The girl sighed; the love she received was healing in so many ways, but Lina’s love could only compensate so much for the betrayal by her father.

“I know, but I’m really a poor substitute for your real family. I’m at least glad that Carlo and Danny haven’t turned their backs on you.”

“They’ve given up so much themselves. Danny would probably be in ministry right now if the church hadn’t shoved him out the door….It’s all my fault.” Susan put her head down on her arms on the table and began to cry.

“Now, none of that. That’s your father talking! Danny is his own man even if he just turned eighteen. And who’s to say what’s right for him? He’s very happy where he landed, and since he’s an adult now, he’ll be able to plot his own course. The church he attends understands what all of you kids have gone through. I wish you could find a place where you feel like you belong.”

“Theresa invited me to come to church with her….” Her voice tailed off.

“Still doesn’t make it right, sweetie.”

“Oh, Aunt Lina… It hurts so much to think that someone could actually hate me so much.” She lifted her head and wiped her face with her sleeve.

“It’s not just someone, honey. No child should ever be treated the way your father has treated you.”

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I don’t deserve ….” Her voice trailed off.

“What? Don’t deserve to be loved? None of us ‘deserves’ it…. That’s what makes it love. Because it’s freely given. But you don’t deserve hatred and bigotry, Susan. No one does. But you especially…. Your father hurt you, and it’s not your fault. It’s his choice to be foolish. I can’t imagine how much that hurts you, but you can’t blame yourself. And you’re not wrong. You are who and what you are by the grace of God, no matter what someone else says.” Lina found herself getting very angry and frustrated. She reached across the table and grabbed the girl’s hand and squeezed tightly.

“I know this can’t make up for what you lost, honey, but I love you more than life itself. If Louise were still alive…” She gasped at the grief she still bore over the loss of her sister.

“Mommy knew…. Why can’t Dad understand? It’s like she never mattered. He’s become so hard… I feel like an orphan.”

“Not as long as I’m alive, baby.” She stood up and walked around the table. Leaning over, she hugged Susan from behind and kissed the top of her head. And the emotion of the moment proved too painful if hopeful for both as Lina began to cry. As she wept, she sang haltingly; a blessing of encouragement and strength for the girl in her arms and perhaps herself as well. She gazed out the window, wondering where her strength came from; not so much a wonder as recalling. She leaned closer and spoke a soft, nearly silent prayer in the girl’s ear and smiled with a confidence that came from outside herself.

Union County College, a few days later…

The girl moved through the cafeteria looking for a free table. A table against a wall in the back seemed to beckon. She walked as quickly as she could and placed her tray on the table only to feel the presence of someone behind her.

“Hey…” The voice felt almost cold and reluctant. Susan turned to find herself face to face with Tim McKenna.

“Oh…hi…” it was all she could manage to keep from running out of the cafeteria. At one time Tim had been her best friend; rather he had been Mark’s best friend. When she came out to the youth group at church, many of the kids showed they accepted her even if they didn’t understand. Some even supported her though they felt conflicted between what they had come to believe versus the girl who stood before her. Tim never seemed conflicted, and it felt like she had been abandoned when he literally turned his back on her.

“I…Do you mind?” He used his tray to point to the table. Mostly, the girl wanted to say, ‘Yes, of course I mind. You hurt me more than anything in my whole life!’ But something from deep inside her rose up and spoke to her; she blew out a tired breath as she nodded her head and sat down. Ted placed his tray on the table and looked around before taking his seat. She sighed and spoke.

“Looking to see if anyone you know is here? Making sure that you’re not seen with an abomination? “ Susan looked away.

“No, I was expecting someone…Here he is.” The boy turned around and nodded. Danny walked up to them and paused. He leaned over and kissed Susan on the cheek before sitting down between the two, surprising her.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said as his gaze went back and forth between the two. Tim smiled weakly before looking past Danny to Susan.

“Danny ….” Tim went to speak but put his head down instead

“I sorta had a talk with him….Okay…I had a talk with him.” Danny half-grinned before reaching over to put his hand on Susan’s arm.

“Listen…try to listen to what he has to say, sis. Okay?“ Susan nodded at Danny and turned to face Tim. She hadn’t meant to be cold, but the self-embracing hug seemed to be reluctant until she spoke softly.

“Before you say anything….” She choked back a sob but continued as her words came haltingly.

“I…I forgive you.” She put her hand to her face and began to cry; even if the cafeteria had been empty she would have had no resolve to hold back and she wept freely.

“Mark….Susan? I am so sorry.” Tim practically choked on the ‘new’ name; not out of shame, but out of wanting to be sure he corrected himself.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I was so wrong.” Coming from the son of the senior pastor of her father’s church, it might have meant something, but coming from the boy with whom she shared so many adventures and even secrets growing up? It meant the world to find he had changed.

“T…Tim? I said I forgive you.” Not an abrupt impatient reminder but a sincere need for him to know how much he still meant to her. Even if that one thing in her heart might be unsaid forever, he had to at least know he was still a part of her life. She reached past Danny and patted Tim’s hand; as if he was the one who had needed consoling all along. And in a way he had.

“You….forgive me?” He shook his head; not in disbelief of the truth of her words but rather in the very part of his soul that felt unworthy of forgiveness. He had not only betrayed his best friend but at one point had gathered others around him to join in his betrayal. That many quickly fell away and came to their senses made little difference; he had joined with his father’s ignorance and fear and cast his friendship…his friend aside. Susan nodded her head slowly, forcing a smile as tears fell freely from all of their faces.

“I…forgive you.” It had to be enough, but even at that point it was too much as so many unspoken thoughts and dreams and hopes remained unsaid. She stood up and put her hand on Danny’s shoulder as a wave of dizziness nearly overcame her.

“I… I have to go…I’m sorry.” She turned to Tim and looked at his face, beholding something she knew was there and wishing that something else would reveal itself. She sighed and spoke.

“I am so, so sorry….” She didn’t finish but turned and walked away quickly; her soft sobs almost lost in the din of the crowded cafeteria as she walked out the door.

“I….She’s still angry, isn’t she?” Not that she would have been wrong; one doesn’t quickly rebuild a bridge over a river that has washed away years of friendship. But she wasn’t angry at all.

“You know, for a college student…. Dean’s list? Transfer to Cornell? You’re an idiot….a real fool, dear friend.” The words might have seemed harsh but for Danny’s soft laugh and widening grin.

“I don’t….she’s angry, right?” Tim shook his head and Danny mirrored his expression as his laugh grew a bit louder.

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? I don’t get it…that’s why I asked. Is she still angry with me?”

“No. She’s not angry with you, Tim.” Danny clapped his hand on Tim’s back before saying at last.

“She’s in love with you!”

The Albanese home a few days later…

“I’m really disappointed, Carlo. You and your brother should be setting an example and yet Rob tells me you haven’t gotten involved in any of the youth activities.” Jerry grabbed the mug of warm coffee and downed it quickly. Carlo shook his head.

“It’s awfully hard to volunteer for an activity in a church that treats my sister like dirt!” He snapped. As he finished, Danny walked into the kitchen.

“Volunteer for what?”

“You and your brother have been blowing off Youth Group, and it has to stop.”

“Or what, Dad? How can you punish us more than what you already have? Who gives a fuck when you kicked Susan to the curb?”

“Now don’t you use that tone with me!”

“Oh dear god in heaven, just shut up!” Carlo stood up and glared at Jerry.

“I’m not going to listen to this crap. You obviously care about a bunch of people who share your views, so what difference does it make when Danny and me ask you to change your mind? When the Youth Pastor puts Susan’s stuff all over the church? After two years, Dad? Apart from Theresa and a couple others, none of her friends even stuck up for her. She and her family are going to Grace Episcopal and others have left. Not enough!”

“This is foolish. I’m your father.” Jerry protested.

“Sorry, Dad. I know you’re my father.” Danny said. Carlo nodded as Danny continued.

“But so long as you hate your daughter…” Danny rarely cried out of frustration; his tears had always seemed to be reserved for joyous occasions much like his mother’s tears. But he wasn’t even able to finish. Carlo stepped closer and put his hand on his father’s back.

“I love you, Dad…we love you. But we can’t go to a church that treats our sister…your daughter….with such hatred. Sorry, Dad. I am truly sorry.” Carlo grabbed Danny by the hand and led him to the back door and out.

“But I’m your father…” Jerry looked around at the empty kitchen and the irony of the moment struck him almost like lightening as he put his head down on the table and sobbed.

The McKenna home….a few weeks later…

“What do you mean; you’re not going to Dallas? Your mother tells me you’re transferring to Cornell?” Tim stood in front of his father’s desk; almost like an employee being chastised by an angry supervisor. In truth, Tim’s life had almost become that scenario, but for a brief but potent dose of reality.

“Actually, Dad, I’m not going to Cornell after all.”

“Well, I’m glad you came to your senses; your mother and I have been concerned about you lately…” His voice trailed off, leaving Tim with an in.

“Let me finish, okay?” He didn’t snap at his father, but his plea was just as urgent.

“I’m finishing out at UCC and then I’m transferring to Drew University.”

“What…why would you go there; you know what kind of school it is.” Pat shook his head.

“I know exactly what ‘kind’ of school it is, Dad. That’s why I’m going there. It was good enough for Grandpa so I figure…”

“You figure? You choose them over Dallas? Their seminary is as liberal as they come, Tim. Come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I am, Dad. Maybe for the first time in my life. As far as liberal goes? I’m not thinking about labels at this point.”

“You should. You’ve been hanging around with the wrong crowd over at Union, and I can see it’s affected you.”

“For the better, Dad. What was it Grandpa used to say? ‘Don’t worry about asking God questions? He already knows what you’re gonna ask and he’s not insulted at all. He’s quite big enough to handle whatever is on your heart.’”

“You can’t! I won’t allow it.”

“I will, Dad. I’m sorry, but I just don’t see things the way you do. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but I have to do this.” Tim paused once again.

“It’s Jerry’s son, isn’t it. Displaying the love of Christ and endorsing sinful behavior are two different things, Tim. You know what the Bible says about people like him.”

“No, Dad. Actually I don’t. I see nothing in anything you quote or write about or preach that says anything about Susan Albanese. She’s a child of God; that much I know.” Whatever Pat took away from his son’s words were driven by what he thought he saw in the young man’s face; an assumption which pushed his anger to the surface.

“Do not presume to lecture me about Scripture. I was preaching way before you were born, Son. And please tell me that your compassion for this boy doesn’t go beyond the love of Christ!” Tim hadn’t meant at all to push his father, so to speak. And there wasn’t anything beyond just friendship between the two, but his father’s bullying shoved him back and he decided to strike back, saying what he felt would hurt his father the most.

“There’s compassion for her, of course, Dad. But so what if it goes further than that!” Tim had no interest in Susan, but he backed himself into a corner; a corner that would trap not only him but come to hurt Susan Albanese.

“You mean to say….” Pat’s face grew pale.

“Yeah, Dad. I think I love her.” Whatever true love was hidden inside would be pushed down and hidden by selfish motives as Tim began something that he would ultimately need another to finish; albeit with a lot of heartache.

The church offices, the following week…

Jerry was sitting at his desk, going over his visitation calendar when he heard a rap on his doorjamb. He looked up to see Lina standing at the doorway.

“I suppose you want to lecture me? Really, Lina? Anger really doesn’t become you. What do you want?” For a man who practically adored the woman’s sister, Jerry couldn’t be more dismissive if he tried. It may have been partly because he was disappointed in a way that Lina had taken Mark in. His son would find it easier to walk away from the truth, he felt, with her enabling him to continue the farce of living like a woman. The ‘tough love’ approach seemed to be a spectacular failure in that regard.

But more so, even if Jerry was unwilling to admit it, Lina reminded him of Louise. And that reminded him of his loss. In a way, he almost blamed Lina for her sister’s death, since no one, including Lina, had been a bone-marrow match for Louise. And Lina and Louise may have borne only a bit of resemblance, but both were cut from the same cloth of understanding and compassion. Sisters who loved deeply and with great care for everyone they knew. And that was almost too much for Jerry to bear.

“I’m here to talk with you, Jerry. No lectures. I promise.” If she had been angry, she certainly wasn’t showing it. What Jerry failed to understand is that while he had become increasingly bitter over his loss, Lina had allowed her grief to shape and push and prod whatever was needed to make her even more loving and understanding. And she kept short accounts, as some might reckon; she had learned to set aside disappointment even while seeking to change things for Susan. Whatever anger there remained was righteous, measured, and well-intended.

“I don’t need a lecture, Lina,” Jerry said, completely missing her words.

“Jerry. I’m not here to upset you. Please hear me out.” She sat down in the chair across from his desk.

“What do you want?” He looked down at his desk as if the paperwork was calling; still overwhelmed with the urgency of schedules and visits and conferences was more important that the people those things addressed.

“Your daughter misses you, Jerry. She’s doing well in so many other ways, but her heart is broken.”

“Good… a broken and contrite heart is a good thing.”

“Apart from what we all deal with…all of us…” She paused and turned away, not wanting to be angry.

“She has nothing to be contrite for. Her heart is broken over the rejection she’s still dealing with. Do you know what it’s like to be rejected, Jerry?”

“Our Lord was rejected….a man of sorrows.”

“Listen to yourself, Jerry. Do you even remember what that means? He understood because he knew what it was like… your daughter is nearly twenty and is as talented an archer as anyone in the state. She could go further, but the constant pain of rejection has sapped her of any joy. She’s still a great student; she nearly made the Dean’s list. But it’s hard to stay focused when you feel separated. What did she do to deserve all this hatred, Jerry?”

“I don’t hate her…him…” Jerry’s face grew red at his own words.

“You’re withholding love, Jerry. That’s almost worse.”

“You can’t tell me….”

“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. I’m glad to be a part of her life, but it doesn’t make up for your ….neglect. You care more about this,” Lina paused again and pointed to the pile of paperwork on the desk.

“Than your own child? How can you minister the love of God to anyone else when your own household is starving for it? Carlo and Danny spend more time at my place now than at home, and they’re not even going to your church any longer.” As angry as she could have been, Lina was more frustrated and sad than anything. And at times like this, she looked more like her late sister. Jerry found himself staring at her eyes; those same eyes that flashed in protection when the boys were little and had been bullied by some kids at school; it was as if he was looking at Louise. But even more than that, something was about to awaken in him; conviction or guilt or whatever else, and it just needed a few more words to come out.

“You pushed her away because of Louise, didn’t you?” Lina put her hand to her face and wiped away the tears that had begun to stream down her cheeks.

“No…no, Lina. You’re wrong!”

“Susan reminds you of Louise, doesn’t she? Even when she was Mark, there was something about her; that love and understanding and even forgiveness when things didn’t go her way; that determination to see things through. Do you realize that in only a few years, you’ve managed to break that spirit, Jerry? You are so caught up in your own anger and bitterness that you pushed away the one person who could show you just what you need? How could you do that, Jerry? What….”

“Don’t…please don’t, Lina.” Jerry’s eyes widened in fearful recognition.

“What would Louise say to you if she was still alive, Jerry? I don’t know what she can see from her vantage point, but have you broken her heart as well?” It was all Lina could say before she began to sob. She put her head down on the desk and cried. A few moments later she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into Jerry’s tear-filled eyes and knew something…perhaps someone….had touched her brother-in-law’s heart. She sat up and touched his cheek with her left hand. He swallowed hard and shook his head.

“How….how can she ever forgive me?” The first time is always the hardest, one might say, but in that simple pronoun Jerry had acknowledged his wrong and his need and his shame.

“I think you already know the answer to that question, Jerry,” Lina said finally. Jerry shook his head once more; an ever-retreating doubt replaced by an understanding that grace isn’t earned; it’s bestowed. The beginning of which he felt as Lina stood up and hugged him and kissed his cheek.

“I forgive you, and I know she will, too.” It was all too much for the man to bear as he practically fell into Lina’s arms, sobbing over every bit of anger and bitterness that he foolishly held for so long.

Union County College, in front of the Psych building….

“Hi.” Tim sat down on the bench next to Susan. She moved sideways to the end but turned and spoke nervously.

“Oh…hi, Tim. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Say, I wondered. A bunch of us are going to see the next Hobbit movie. You want to come?” He smiled and leaned just a bit closer.

“I…I guess so.” She sighed and looked away, hoping only a little bit. He touched her arm.

“We’re going over to Fabio’s afterwards.”

“Are you sure no one will mind?” Her ever-present distinction intruded into the conversation and she turned away.

“Everyone is fine with you. Not everyone is like my Dad.” He shrugged his shoulders before adding.

“I’m not like my Dad any more. I’m sorry it took so long to figure it out.” There really had been nothing to ‘figure out,’ other than how to reckon the difference between being Christian and being Christ-like.

“Okay.” Her tone was cautious; the past few years had seen her lose much of her innocence and too much of her faith. She smiled weakly at Tim and he returned her favor with a hug; unexpected but still welcome.

“I’ll pick you up at five and we can meet everybody at the theater.”

The Hadley Regal Cinema, South Plainfield, later that afternoon….

The lights had dimmed and the murmurs quieted down as the coming attractions began to play; leaving the theater with a dull glow of colors. Susan sat upright in her seat; her hands gripping the armrests like she was on a roller coaster. She turned to her right and was greeted with a warm smile from Noorah, a girl in her psych class. Turning to her left, she noticed Tim had folded his arms and was sunk down in his seat. She took a deep breath and settled in as well, waiting for the movie to start.

The movie was barely started when she felt Tim’s arm drape softly over her shoulder. She glanced to the right and noticed his expression seemed softer; almost relaxed. She sighed and let her head rest on his arm. After what seemed like only minutes Susan felt Tim’s arm move. She looked up at the screen only to see the closing credits obscured by people moving out of their seats. She stood up slowly and noticed Tim smiling at her.

“You missed a lot,” he said and laughed softly as he stood.

“I…guess I’ll just have to wait until it comes out on DVD.” She smiled weakly as her face grew warm.

“Well, apart from a fire-breathing dragon, orcs and trolls, and a lot of peril, you really didn’t miss much,” he teased as he offered his hand. She took another breath and grabbed his hand as he escorted her to the aisle. She still felt a little dream-like and even a bit woozy. A couple of boys cut in front of Tim on the aisle and stopped abruptly as Susan bumped into him. He caught her before she fell, leaving them face to face as their lips brushed slightly. She pushed away and ended up falling into the seat behind her. He offered his hand and she waved him off, but after a brief struggle accepted his help. The lights had yet to come up in the still-crowded theater, and the dim glow of the screen thankfully did nothing to illuminate the bright red glow on her cheeks.

“Can you just take me home? I don’t know … I’m not hungry. Sorry.” She spoke in a loud whisper as they emerged into the brightly lit-parking lot. Tim looked at her and shook his head.

“Come on…it’ll be fun.” He hadn’t even acknowledged what took place in the theater, and the expression on his face seemed almost disappointed with her. A moment later they were joined by several of their friends.

“You two coming?” her friend Noorah said. She smiled and turned to another girl just exiting the theater; another of Susan’s classmates from Psychology. The other girl looked at Susan and nodded to Noorah, leaving Susan wondering what the exchange was about.

“Yeah, we’re coming,” Tim said as he grabbed Susan by the elbow. She shrugged her shoulders and walked to the car.

In front of Fabio’s Restaurant, Fanwood, New Jersey, shortly thereafter….

“Well,” said Noorah, “It looks like you two had a good time.” Susan shrugged her shoulders once again as she felt her cheeks grow warm. Tim tilted his head and squinted his eyes before saying slowly,

“Two? Oh…. No…. you thought? Susan’s just a friend.” He turned to her and smiled weakly. It would have been hard enough listening to his denial, but the emphasis on the word, ‘just’ was too painful to hear.

“Tim?” She practically pled for new, much brighter and hopeful words. He shook his head.

“I… It wasn’t a date. I’m sorry you got that impression.” No explanation would have been much better than an embarrassing moment in front of her friends and classmates. She turned away as her face grew hotter. Tears welled up in her eyes and she breathed out before turning back again to face him and everyone else.

“I’m not feeling well. I think I’m going to just go home.” She stepped closer to Noorah and spoke.

“Thanks for thinking of me. I guess I’ll see you in class on Thursday.” She pulled out her cell and hit a preset.

“Aunt Lina? Can you pick me up in front of Fabio’s? No… I’m not feeling well…no….” She paused and looked over at Tim. He returned her gaze with an almost foolish grin before turning away.

“Yes…yes…okay….” She closed the phone and put it in her purse. The tears had begun to flow again; likely the product of too much hurt and a comforting voice on the other end of the call. She turned to Noorah and smiled again before walking over to the bus shelter in front of the restaurant. Noorah turned to her girl friend and spoke.

“You guys go inside. I’ll be in a few, okay?” She walked over and sat down next to Susan. A half-hour later, Lina pulled up by the shelter and Susan got in, but not before getting a warm hug from Noorah. A moment after that they were gone. Noorah walked into the restaurant and stood at the table and faced Tim.

“You used her.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said even as the truth of what she said began to dawn on him.

“You wanted to show everybody how much you changed so you brought her along with you. She was just a prop to you in your stupid drama with your father, wasn’t she?” He went to speak and she held her palm up.

“No… I’m so glad you’re such a tolerant, enlightened person, Tim. Too bad you’re such a dick!” She shook her head.

“I’m not hungry either. I’m gonna go home.” She turned to Sandy, the other girl from their Psych class.

“I guess I’ll see you on Thursday, too. Nite everybody.” She said it while pointedly ignoring Tim. In a few minutes everybody had left the restaurant; their checks paid and their food half eaten. Tim sat by himself at the large table wondering what had just happened. His dawn was over and his day of enlightenment had just begun as he shook his head in not so blissful ignorance.

The office of Marie Chang, the following Monday…

It had begun to rain, almost a downpour in fact, but the rain did nothing to drown out the sound of the girl’s sobs as she leaned her face against side bolster of the couch.

“I hate myself.” The words were halting and interrupted by gasps and cries. Almost a stereotype of everything she’d ever read about girls like her, guilt and shame rose in her throat to throttle her. Arguing with Susan would be almost futile, so Marie took another approach.

“What do you hate about yourself?” She was ready to add ‘honey’ to the question, but thought better of it and waited for the girl’s answer.

“I….hate myself.” Marie resisted the temptation to remind her that she had repeated herself, instead asking another question.

“What have you done to hate yourself, Susan?” The name was important; an identification of sorts.

“I’m wrong. I’m all wrong!” She sat up and began to bang her head softly against the back of the couch; a habit she had when she was little. One might have called the moment petulant if they hadn’t known what she had endured for the past few years.

“What’s wrong about you?” No need to ask about actions or words; Marie knew very well it wasn’t about what Susan did but about whom Susan was that troubled the girl.

“I’m not real. I thought …. I should have never….”

“Never what, Susan? “

“I thought he liked me. I really….” She shook her head as her tears flowed freely. Condemnation from without and within pushed and prodded and poked in accusation.

“He….” Marie began to ask another question, but as much as the heartache du jour was about the rejection she felt, it still seemed to pale in comparison with Susan’s routine self-condemnation. It certainly didn’t help that the boy had been so cruel, but nothing could be crueler than all the messages she had sent herself.

“Susan? You know…. I can’t think of anyone who has been hurt more than you.” She paused, almost for effect, before continuing.

“But someone once said that it’s okay to cry, but eventually you’ve got to figure out why you’re crying. Why are you crying, Susan?”

“He….I thought he understood. How could he do that? I feel so….” She put her head down.

“Used? That must hurt so bad, honey.” The endearment fit for the moment. The girl looked up at her and Marie noticed her expression had changed. The heartache still remained, but something had returned. A spark of anger? An ember of strength?

“I….He acted all nice and…. In the theater, when nobody was looking.” She shook her head; the tears still flowed but her cheeks seemed to have lightened to a dark pink.

“So long as he wasn’t seen?”

“Yeah….but when everybody…. It was like I was just there to make him feel good. I was so…. In front of everybody… Why would he do that, Marie?”

“I don’t know. But it feels…. You tell me.” She pulled back slightly and smiled. Susan put her head down and seemed almost lost in thought for a few minutes.

“I feel …. It’s like when Lucy told everybody about Narnia and Edmund acted as if she was making it all up.” The stories from years past had been a comfort for her when she was beginning to realize how different she was. The characters had become almost life-long friends, even present as she neared her twentieth birthday.

“You aren’t making it all up, are you?”

“No. I’m real. Why can’t everyone see that?”

“Is it everyone?” The question was almost obvious but still necessary. Susan looked away before sighing a disappointed sigh. It would have almost been easier if everyone thought her unreal.

“No….” A sheepish reply coupled with more tears.

“Just the one?”

“Y…yes….” She put her hand to her face to cover her shame; unearned and unwarranted, but shame none the less.

“You thought he understood, right? And that hurts how?”

“I…. I thought….” She shook her head.

“I’m so stupid.” A girl on the cusp of making the Dean’s List isn’t stupid, of course, but even intelligent girls can be made to feel foolish and even worthless with the wrong signals from the right people.

“That sounds familiar, Susan. Who said you were stupid?”

“I….I’m so foolish…. “ A feeling not easily undone, but she was on the verge of change.

“Tim made you feel foolish. Who else has done that, Susan?”

“He….” She lowered her head, as if to identify the betrayal in her life was one more act to be condemned.

“Go ahead. You have every right to be hurt, Susan. He….?”

“Dad…” She didn’t cry, so to speak, but her tears still fell from her face.

“And when Tim used you, it was like that all over again?” Susan lifted her head at the question and her eyes widened in angry recognition. One might wonder why it took so long for her to gain that understanding, but betrayal, especially by a parent or friend, often shoves understanding rudely to the side as it has its way.

“Yes.” Not much more assertive, but plain enough and a huge moment for the girl as she realized one important thing.

“Are you foolish, Susan?”

“No…I…No!” Even as she spoke, the realization was overwhelming in a good way, so to speak and she began to sob heavily. Tears of relief might be painful for the moment but healing in the long run. She became groundbreaker in her own reclamation project; a feeling that left her in a wonder of sorts as she shook her head in denial.

“No….No….” She pounded the armrest firmly as she kept repeating the word. And Marie spoke once in agreement to affirm Susan’s beginnings of understanding.

“No, Susan, you’re not. Not foolish at all.”

At the church later the same day…

Jerry sat at his desk, staring at the screen of his laptop. He sighed deeply and hit 'enter.' A moment later a single page rolled out of the printer onto the paper tray. He got up from his desk and stared at the page before laying it down on the desk. He grabbed a pen and scribbled his signature hurriedly before folding the paper and inserting it in an envelope. He sealed it and walked out of his office, but not before staring back at the pile of papers on his desk. Whatever would come next, he at least was convinced finally in his heart about what was most important.

On the UCC campus grounds, a few days later…

I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind oh oh oh oooooh
I am a Joan of Arc and smart enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne

“Hi,” a voice came from behind Susan as she sat on the bench; her psych book lay to her side after a morning of study mixed with introspection. She turned to see Tim with a near-grin on his face.

“Tim,” she said flatly. He walked around and went to sit down but she put her hand on the bench.

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to say how sorry I am that you were embarrassed.”

“Okay…you’re sorry. Fine.” Her hand remained on the bench. She placed her right hand on her Psych book, leaving him nowhere to sit.

“Come on. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” He stepped closer; his shadow loomed over her almost like a threat of bad weather.

“No. It wasn’t.” She said it calmly, leaving him surprised. He motioned for her to move her hand but she remained almost motionless.

“You used me, Tim. You wanted to prove a point, and you did. You accept me for who I am. Fine.” He stared at her as she lifted her hand off the Psych book to her right. She lifted the book and placed it in her tote. He took that as an opening and sat down.

“You don’t quite get it, but I don’t blame you.” She sighed deeply before continuing.

“Love the sin and hate the sinner? I’m just fine for you so long as we’re just us, but you pulled back when everyone could see?” Tim went to speak but she put her hand up in caution.

“No, I understand perfectly. It’s a choice, Tim. You want to be seen as okay in everyone else’ eyes. You want to show everyone how nice you can be. I bet you even told your Dad how much you care.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Happened? It wasn’t an event. People make choices. We all make choices, Tim. You spoke out of your heart; a heart that’s big enough to accept me but too small to show even the slightest evidence of love.” She paused.

“But…” His face had grown red from anger mixed with confusion. She cut him off with a headshake.

“No. I don’t even mean that kind of love.” She breathed out heavily. It hurt, of course, that he didn’t love her that way. But he really didn’t love her at all.

“Noorah isn’t even….she doesn’t share the same faith as us but she showed me more of Christ in the few minutes I sat waiting for Aunt Lina that night than you or your Dad have shown me in my entire life.” She gasped when she realized just how much of that love was withheld by her own father as well. She stood up as Tim held his arms open in plea.

“No, Tim. I forgive you. I guess I’ll have to keep on forgiving you. But I don’t feel like I can…. You were my best friend and you turned your back on me. Goodbye!” She picked her tote off the bench and walked away; her nose had started to run and she felt embarrassed from crying but relieved that in walking away she had finally stood her ground.

At the church, the following day…

“What’s the meaning of this?” Pat McKenna loomed over Jerry’s desk like a dark cloud. Jerry looked up and smiled as he stared at the paper in Pat’s hand.

“Simple enough. It’s my letter of resignation. I can’t expect any agreement at all in my decision so I didn’t include any notice.” He smiled again and turned his head to face the pile of boxes on the chair in the corner of the office.

“Over this?” Pat pointed to the letter in his hand?

“You’re giving up the ministry over some folly? Foolishness? Your son is living in sin and you’re going to endorse that?” Pat shook his head. He was convinced in his beliefs just as much as Jerry was in doubt of his. They may have shared a faith, and even the means to express that faith at one time. But their paths diverged sharply; perhaps belatedly as well for Jerry and not at all for Pat.

“I don’t pretend to know everything or even half of what I should know about what my child has to deal with. But I do know this. To be a minister to the church I first need to be a minister to my family. And my family includes a daughter who I grew to hate. I’m sorry, Pat.”

“You don’t have to apologize for your child, Jer. Can’t you see this is wrong?”

“No…Pat? You don’t get it. I’m sorry for my behavior. I'm sorry for you and for me. I’ve hurt my daughter. Yes, Pat. My daughter. And my sons. I can’t do that anymore. And I can’t be here anymore. It took me so long to understand that I don’t expect you to….for now. I hope you come to a place where you do, but I can’t be here while you make up your mind.”

“I’ve made up my mind, Jerry. It’s you who’s being foolish here.”

“I know you’ve decided what you believe. I just hope you start to act like the one we both believe in.”

“You can’t say that to me!”

“I just did, Pat. You and I go back a long way and I’m very grateful for you. But the days of just agreeing with you for the sake of keeping my position are over. I don’t agree with you at all about a lot of things; especially where my family is concerned. And I can’t honestly remain as a pastor here when I don’t share the same vision as you do. I've been blind, Pat, but my eyes are finally open, and I’m seeing myself clearly for the first time since Louise died. I don’t like who I see, and I aim to change that.”

At the DePasquale home the same evening…

It would have been very easy and quite understandable for Susan to stay angry, but as someone once said, she would be ‘wasting no more time looking back over her shoulder!’ She lay in bed and surveyed her room; what seemed for so long as a place of exile in the midst of the oasis of her Aunt’s tender care, it had finally become a haven for her. She noted the nearly-new compound bow that lay on her divan. Too long neglected for her sake as an athlete but even more so as a human being. Her eyes darted to the poster on the far wall.

“I guess we really don’t fit in anymore, but maybe that will change.” She stared at the girl; tween-ish and pretty. And an archer as well. Her namesake of sorts, Susan Pevensie as a character was destined to leave the series in order to follow how she was portrayed in the books. And destined in fantasy to have turned her back on Narnia. Funny thing how the real girl held an affinity for both the girl in the poster and the rejection she must have felt. In the final book of the series, the elder Pevensie girl is declared to be no longer a friend of Narnia. Susan picked up the copy and turned to the back of the book; a dog-eared page revealing the sad reality. She read the passage out loud.

"She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can.”

No mercy for either girl; her namesake almost a hopeless outcast in her own family; too similar and painful if somewhat dissimilar in circumstances. Susan looked up at the poster again.

“Maybe we both need to return?” She sighed and laid back on her bed; her head propped up by several pillows as she gazed out the window into the dark night.

“You and me!” She said finally. She turned over and cradled her head with her hand. Every night since she had lost her mother, she prayed and prayed and cried and prayed some more. And every night was met with a soft silence that seemed to promise answers someday soon. Soon can be a very long time for a child who feels alone and abandoned; even if she does have the love and support of a precious few. She closed her eyes and began to mouth words perhaps only she would hear and understand as she began to cry softly into the pillow.

“You and me,” she repeated before drifting off into a tear-filled, fitful sleep.”

The girl sat high up on a large rock formation in the middle of a field of rolling bluffs; her view almost panoramic. And yet she felt closed in; a guilt almost smothering as she scanned the countryside. No one to talk with her about her shame. No friend to hold her hand. No parent to hold her in a welcoming embrace. And no one to love her.

She looked down at her clothes. Apart from the dust of the day, her garb remained unchanged. A long grayish green suede-like gown split to mid-thigh on both sides, revealing dark leggings and brown boots folded over at the above the calf. Her brown belt remained worn and spotty where the dye had rubbed off. She looked to her side and noticed her bow lying almost upright against a rock; a sentinel against any foe. But there were no foes. No one to speak rude words to her because there was no one around. None from Archenland or the Lonely Islands. None from her home and certainly none from the Land over the Sea. She was the solitary citizen of her world, apart from the wildlife that inhabited that lonely place.

She sighed deeply and rubbed her face. Her eyes had crusted over ever so slightly from her nightly tears, and the new dawn did nothing to abate the emptiness she felt. No one to care about her. Everyone…. Everyone had walked away or had taken flight. Not a single one to tell her she mattered. And tears were not only reserved for nighttime. Crying wasn’t held back by the rise of the sun. She looked around again. The vista was as welcoming as a scene can be. But trees do not talk; at least in the world she now knew. No friendly animals to tell her she was important. No mythical beings with whom to dance in great joy. She thought she heard a hawk’s call; faint and faraway. But no other sound but the whoosh of the wind as it shoved and pushed her as she sat all by herself.

She closed her eyes and dreamed a dream; the soft embrace and loving kiss of a lover that felt all at once familiar and foreign. In her dream, she opened her eyes, hoping to see the one with whom she held trust and faith for so long. But he wasn’t there. He had turned his back on her.

Instead, the face was friendly and welcoming; an acceptance not borne out of tolerance or reluctance, but of true care for her. The features were soft; not weak, but a warm softness that spoke of a strength underneath. She lifted herself on her elbows and gave into the kisses of the one who actually loved her….

The De Pasquale home….

“Susan?” The voice seemed to come from off world; she opened her eyes and instead of being greeted by the panorama of that lonely world, she found herself in a bed in a nice room with posters and trophies and pictures and a friendly familiar face that greeted her with a smile.

“Good….good morning.” Susan rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up. Lina walked over and sat down on the desk chair next to the bed. She leaned over and gave the girl a kiss on the forehead.

“You were talking in your sleep.” A soft laugh accompanied a half-smile. Susan saw that her Aunt was back-lit by the hallway light. She looked around the room and noticed that it was still dark.

“Almost dawn, honey.” Lina patted her on the arm.

“I…” Susan paused and sighed deeply. Resolve in the daytime can often be tugged and prodded by doubt in the night. But resolved she was.

“I told Tim goodbye.” Of course it wasn’t goodbye in the truest sense. They shared the same friends and interests, and they attended the same school, at least for the time-being. Lina nodded.

“I know.” The girl squinted and tilted her head.

“How…how could you know?”

“The look on your face when you got home last night after studying. You looked….relieved. And sad.”

“I….It hurts, Aunt Lina. I can’t believe how much it hurts.”

“But it was what you had to do.” Lina didn’t want to dismiss the girl’s pain, but she had to affirm the girl’s decision. In a lifetime filled with self-doubt, Susan needed to know her life was hers to live, and that included making hard choices. All of the things she was learning just then should have been given as gifts to her so long ago, but for the neglect of one and the sad departure of another.

“I still feel like a fool.”

“Oh, honey. No. Not foolish.” The girl’s lack of understanding was almost naive, but almost unavoidable given the lack of affirmation. Lina paused and looked away.

“You trusted. Your trust was betrayed. You had every reason to believe Tim would be the same friend he had been when you were kids. Not foolish at all.” She patted the girl’s arm once again.

“Before your Uncle Tony and I got back together, it was the same way with us.” She sighed. Tony’s death still hurt even after thirteen years; perhaps made even sadder because they did reconcile before his passing.

“You forgave him.” Not a question. Lina smiled at her.

“I had to let it go. For my sake as well as his. And we never stopped loving each other.” Her eyes teared up and it was Susan’s turn to console as she reached over and rubbed Lina’s arm.

“I…” The girl looked down and shook her head, remembering the dream that seemed to have played out only moments before.

“What, honey?”

“I had a dream.” The girl seemed almost ashamed to admit something as casual and human as dreaming. But it went far beyond merely a vision in her sleep. What she saw brought tears of doubt and fear and needless shame to her face as she recalled what she had seen.

“Oh, honey,” Lina said in response; believing Susan’s dream to be a frightening nightmare. Dreams can often be daunting when they confront us; not with monsters or demons, but with what we may truly believe or feel. Lina got off the chair and knelt next to the bed; face-to-face and heart-to-heart, so to speak. She leaned closer to give the girl the attention due to her.

“I’m….I was sitting all alone…. Not even you.” She closed her eyes to block out any earthly vision in order to recall the unearthly. She sighed and began to cry. Morning may have come too soon, but she was still living all too frequently in the dark night of her soul, as some might say. And the needless shame that accompanied her thoughts.

“It was me but it wasn’t me…. I… it was like I was…” Even the thought of identifying with a character in a book…. A picture on a poster or movie screen….it made her feel small because grown women don’t do that, do they?”

“Susan…Pevensie, right?” The girl nodded.

“I’ve always felt close to Jill Pole.” Lina smiled and wiped a tear from the girl’s cheek.

“But it was me, too. And I …it was like a dream within a dream.”

“What did you see that upset you so much?” Lina tilted her head as if to listen more carefully.

“I… I had closed my eyes, Lina.” She stopped nearly in mid-sentence. It felt almost like she was sharing her heart with a girlfriend rather than an aunt, but the familiarity embarrassed her until Lina smiled and nodded as if to say it was okay.

“I thought it was Tim….” She sighed and Lina half-smiled, reflecting the disappointment the girl still felt.

“But it was someone else?”

“Y…yes….”

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.” We often lose our shame in small increments; and nearly often as not from the permission we gain from a smile or a nod. Lina touched Susan’s face, brushing a stray hair from her eyes.

“A kiss….Oh Lina, I’m…. It shouldn’t be this way! It’s not right!”

“You kissed back?” A slow, cautious nod.

“And it wasn’t Tim? Who was he?” Another smile set the girl at ease enough to cry harder, if that makes sense.

“What, honey? Who was he?”

“Not he…. She.” It was all she could manage before she turned her head away and began sobbing into her pillow. Lina leaned closer and stroke Susan’s hair and just said, over and over,

“Oh, honey...It’s okay. You’re alright.”

Across town; later that same morning…

The girl stood before the bathroom mirror. With everything she had been given, she felt grateful even if for a meager blessing as her sister would say. She stared at her breasts. What might have brought other girls to sad tears still gave her a chill; that incongruous feeling you might get when you realize things are good? Better? She finished toweling herself off and wrapped her hair before grabbing the soft lilac-colored robe from the hook on the closet door. Something sent her into an introspective muse as she sat on her bed. She held out her right hand and spread her fingers. Her nails were short but polished. A satisfied sigh escaped her lips.

“I’m getting in the shower,” her sister said as she glided past and into the bathroom. At one time she would have felt embarrassed enough to cry. Even now in some ways, her own sense of modesty reminded her to give her sister privacy. But things had changed. What was foreign and unfamiliar had become a thing of joyful commonality after a very brief if shaky period of adjustment for them both. At nearly twenty-four, she still remained at home. Prospects for marriage had diminished almost to the point of hopelessness but for the encouragement of understanding friends and two parents who came to grips with the life their daughter lived.

“I’ll be out in a few. We can stop at the store for coffee if you like?” College life for two sisters almost seems like a scenario for a program on Netflix or some reality show. Outcasts in Jersey? Ignored at the Shore. But the two enjoyed each other’s company. Only eighteen months separated them and they both took classes at Rutgers while finishing belatedly at UCC. Stopping for coffee meant either a quick stop at the Seven-Eleven or a leisurely visit to the school commons.

“Okay. I don’t have a class until nine anyway.” The girl stood up and walked to her closet. In a few minutes she was dressed for the day. A pair of black slacks with matching low-heeled shoes. A light grey coat-length cable-knit sweater opened just enough to reveal a black jersey turtleneck top. She smiled at the girl staring back at her from the closet door mirror.

One more detail; something that she treasured more than some of her friends and family, but an all-important detail that showed who she was and in whom she placed her trust. She reached over and pulled the fabric over her head, finally draping it around her neck. Her favorite colors; turquoise, lilac, and pewter. And she finished dressing for the day by putting on the most important accessory she owned to display who she was. Her smile….

When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable.
Madeleine L'Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art

The DePasquale home, a few days later…

Carlo sat at the kitchen table across from Susan. Lina had a few errands to run and dinner to pick up, so the two had some rare ‘exclusive’ time. Lina’s bow and quiver sat on the chair next to her; evidence of a renewed feeling of purpose, even if it was almost glacial in its progress. Carlo stood up and walked to the counter by the stove.

“You want some tea?” He opened the upper cabinet door and peered inside.

“Earl Grey…”

“Hot...I know,” he laughed at the comment; the two had a running joke about the tea preference of a certain Starfleet captain; three including Danny, though he seemed so much more serious lately.

“What’s goin’ on, Sue? You seem awfully worked up…for you.”

“I…” She hesitated, looking away. Carlo filled the electric kettle with water and hit the switch before sitting back down.

“I know about Tim. I ran into him at the A&P the other night and he told me that you kicked him to the curb.” He half-smiled and finished quickly as she turned back; her eyes flashing anger.

“Before you kill me, those were his words. I told him I didn’t appreciate the way he treated you, and that he had no business getting all hurt. And I told him that maybe he could go pray with his Dad for someone more acceptable.” Susan didn’t miss the bitter sarcasm in Carlo’s voice, but she still shuddered from the hurt of Tim’s remarks. Carlo reached over and patted her hand.

“I don’t …. I’m never going to find someone. I just…” she bit her lip and looked away once more. Turning her head didn’t hide her tears, and Carlo squeezed her hand.

“You’re a great girl, Sue. You’ll…” She pulled her hand away.

“Don’t, Carlo. I’m not a great girl. Most people don’t even think I’m a girl at all. Don’t tell me I’ll find someone. I don’t believe I’ll ever find someone. Please….” Her voice softened.

“I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to be so…trite.” He sighed.

“It’s just that you are special to me…you’re about as kind a person as I know other than Aunt Lina. It’s just that things….I want things to work out for you. I hope and pray for them…so I can’t just sit here and agree, you understand? It’s like you can never know what God is actually gonna do.” It was his turn to look away as his eyes misted up. Someone had to keep up petitions and pleas; otherwise the whole family might slide into the pit of discouragement their hurt had dug. And Carlo especially felt that if he believed for Susan, then anything could happen.

“I’m so sad all the time, Carlo. Even with Lina and Marie and everybody at school holding me up, it’s just so hard to…” She was much better than sad most of the time, but the pain always looked larger than it actually was, and often dwarfed the good things she realized; something that she and Marie were working on.

“Believe? We have to believe, Sis…it’s all we have…and everything we have.” For someone who’s faith had been battered by sad neglect from shepherds and sheepdogs, so to speak, Carlo was strong.

“Tim doesn’t …” He paused, measuring his words. The last thing he wanted was to look like he was making excuses for someone who had committed such a grave sin; the betrayal of a friend.

“He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, I bet. I think that even though he’s sort of made a break with his Dad, it’s a lot of his Dad still talking when he opens up his mouth.” Carlo took a deep breath; speaking the truth in love still can hurt like hell, to mix metaphors.

“You deserve someone who actually loves you. I think he’s still only interested in being someone who is loved. He loves that you love him.” The last sentence was almost unnecessary as Carlo’s words stung like alcohol on an open wound; cleaning and adding to the healing but still painful. She gasped and shook her head; not to disagree with the truth but to regret it. Susan put her head on the table and began to cry. Carlo stroked and even combed her hair with his fingers; brushing the loose locks from her face. He heard the kitchen door open behind him.

“Oh…” Lina mouthed ‘no’ silently as she put some bags on the counter.

“We were just talking about what a great girl I am,” Susan said with only a bit of sarcasm in her voice. Lina stepped closer and patted Carlo on the back before sitting down on his other side next to Susan.

“You are a great girl, honey.” It had become almost a daily frustration that Lina felt incapable of encouraging the girl. But she had been encouraging the girl, and her words, coupled with her brother’s, helped her reach up from the plateau where she had been stuck.

“I am not a great girl, Lina,” she said pulled off a paper towel from the roll on the table.

“But I’m okay. And I’m not going to waste any more time…” She might as well have included Tim’s name, since they knew immediately what she meant. She took it further, which was disappointing to both Lina and Carlo as she finished.

“I don’t think I’ll ever ….I’m not going to look for anyone.” She sighed as she lowered her head to the table once again, and the two nearly echoed her with sighs of their own, like an ironic fade-out to a movie scene

Union County College Student Lounge, that Friday…

Five students sat at a round table near the entrance to the lounge. Two young women dressed in the predictable casual college fare along with a rather tired looking tallish boy and his equally tall if alert looking friend. And in between the boys and the girls sat an attractive Muslimah. Her hijab looked to be silk; very soft and a pastel blue. She wore a maroon tee over a white long-sleeved top with loose cream-colored pants.

“My sister and I finished our prerequisites…at least the classes. I’ve got a final on Wednesday.” Noorah said to no one in particular at the table. Both sisters were taking classes simultaneously at Rutgers and Union County College.

“What is it you’re going to Major in at Rutgers?” The girl sitting across from her asked; a nice young lady from Plainfield named Darien.

“Well, Dorri was accepted at Newark for Med school!”

“That’s wonderful,” Susan said. She had been instrumental in encouraging Noorah’s sister regarding her aspirations to be a pediatrician.

“She’s still waiting to hear from Columbia, right?”

“Yes,” Noorah said with a smile. “I think it looks very good for her, but she’s a lock for UMDNJ!”

“And what about you?” Darien asked. “You’ve been looking into a dual major?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure about doing two graduate degrees. My father did when he and Mom were in London, but I’d be happy to just finish one. Between my undergraduate courses here and at Rutgers, I’ve gotten enough behind me that NYU sent me a letter…” She barely got the words out of her mouth when Susan and Darien began to clap. Jake and Raheem just nodded and smiled; trying without any success to give the impression that they knew all along. But her heart had been plain all along. While the prospects for her were still somewhat dim even as a woman in the twenty-first century, she hoped somehow to make a difference in her father’s homeland.

“International Relations!” Noorah finished. Raheem nodded once again, while Jake just shrugged. Susan smiled and grabbed Noorah’s hand. In that moment she suddenly realized that even with a campus only thirty or so miles away, Noorah’s time would be taken up by studies and like so many of her peers, she’d likely relocate to Manhattan. And that led to the sudden realization that she’d miss someone who had in only a few short months become her best friend.

“Ladies and gentleman and Jake….” Darien giggled during a pronounced pause for effect before exclaiming,

“I give you the next Ambassador from Iran to the United Nations.”

“Hell, she’ll be the next President!” Raheem interjected. Noorah’s cheeks began to redden, as everyone began to laugh in agreement. She smiled and lowered her eye modestly. And she felt an odd sense of warmth which went away quickly as she realized Susan was still holding her hand. She turned her head and faced Susan and smiled nervously as she pulled her hand away slowly; probably much more pronounced than she wanted. And Susan pulled her hand away quickly; even more pronounced. And her face began to grow hot. She stood up; again more quickly than she had wanted.

“I’ve got to get over to the Psych building,” she fibbed. She looked around the table and smiled to everyone, being extra careful not to smile at Noorah, even if she didn’t realize it at the moment. She turned quickly, catching her foot on a chair from the table next to theirs; nearly tripping before fleeing through the nearby exit. As she walked outside, she felt a soft breeze against her face along with the smell of roses. She walked about fifty yards or so; putting distance between her and the Student lounge before turning back to stare at the building. She breathed out a deep sigh and shook her head; denying the odd sensation that was slowly surfacing, which added to her embarrassment.

Breathing in deeply, she noticed once again the smell of roses; not an odd fragrance, but not really common either for the area. It didn’t seem very strong; almost subdued or diluted. She closed her eyes and her face seemed to glow in recognition as she realized it smelled almost like the subtle hint of roses. Someone’s perfume. ...Her perfume. And she opened her eyes; shocked would have been an understatement at that point as she realized as well that the scent was present, so to speak, in the haunting dream she had only a few days before. And that the face she had seen…the face of the person who had loved her and made her feel alive, even if only in a dream….the same face of the person that kissed her was Noorah.

Back home, early that evening….

Susan walked quickly past the living room and down the hall toward her bedroom, practically ignoring the aroma of basil and garlic that wafted through the house. She closed her door slowly and leaned against it, feeling almost exhausted after what began as a fairly undemanding day. A knock came at the door, followed by Danny’s voice.

“Susan? Sis? You okay?” He leaned his head against the door frame like he was still a little brother.

“I’m…I don’t feel good. I’ve got a headache.” It was true that she had a headache, but it was much truer, in a way, that she wasn’t feeling very good for another reason.

“It’s Monday,” he said, as if she needed a reminder, but it was the day he and Carlo had a standing invitation to dinner.

“Aunt Lina made Ziti and meatballs.” A family favorite from their mother’s kitchen, it had become even more special in recent years because of Louise’s passing. Lina tried to provide as much security as she could with familiar things even to the point of duplicating the recipe down to the mint in the meatballs.

“I’m not hungry,” she protested; her voice almost a whisper.

“Come on, Susan? We’ve got a surprise for you?” Susan could almost see his smile through the closed door as he laughed softly. Danny’s laughter seemed to mimic Mandarin in that each laugh had a meaning of its own, depending upon the tone. She couldn’t read this one; almost a brand new laugh, it nevertheless sounded safe and promising. She opened the door a crack.

“It’s not my birthday for another two weeks, Danny.” She peeked through the opening and he reached in, grabbing her hand gently.

“Come on, Sis. Okay?” He really didn’t wait for a reply, leading her down the hallway slowly. It almost begged a ‘now, close your eyes.’ She followed him with reluctance, however; each step becoming more difficult than the last until she was almost standing still at the archway into the living room. Carlo got up off the couch and walked slowly to her and hugged her.

“Happy birthday, early, Sue,” he said. She looked into his eyes and saw tears; nothing completely out of the ordinary for him, but still a bit emotional for a meal with family. Lina was standing at the foot of the stairs leading up to her bedroom. She stepped aside as a familiar figure walked down the stairs into the living room.

“Happy birthday.” The voice was halting; as if there was more to say than just a birthday greeting. And what was left unsaid had been left unsaid for years. Tonight, the word was finally spoken.

“Susan?” The voice might have been tentative and almost doubtful in a way, but the softness of the intent made the moment more precious as Jerry Albanese held his arms out. The gesture was desperately needful but entirely daunting for a girl who already lacked confidence in her own impressions and faith. It was entirely too much to take in for a girl who was used to believing she deserved nothing but shame on a day filled with acceptance. She started to shake before falling into Carlo's arms, weeping.

“There is no other day. All days are present now. This moment contains all moments.””
C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

Susan stood in a field; hilly and half-covered with flowers. The smell of salt filled the air as the breeze from the sea cooled her despite the hot sun overhead. She looked around and saw she was standing near what looked like a large stone patio surrounded by gnarled old trees and a large stone wall almost tucked into a corner.

She felt alone, very weary and even a bit scared despite the warmth of the breeze; a comfort that only took the edge off her dread. She walked carefully to the wall and touched a clump of the ivy that had nearly covered what looked like a door. She placed her hand on the rusting handle and pulled. It gave way quickly and much easier than she expected. As the door creaked open she heard her name….

“Susan?” She found herself looking up into Lina’s face as she lay on the couch.

“What…” Consciousness brought recollection and recollection dragged sadness back into her heart as she began to cry; this time softly and almost without sound. Lina helped her sit up and sat down beside her; almost cradling her like a child. She blinked back tears and gasped as she looked at the figure standing in front of her.

“Dad?”

“No…it’s me, sis.” Danny said with a sigh. Carlo stepped closer next to his brother and shook his head slightly.

“He was here, but when ….” Carlo started to speak, but choked up with angry tears.

“He left. He was here. I’m sorry. I told him not to surprise you like that,” Danny said, his voice a bit more subdued, but still with traces of his own angry disappointment, and not for himself.

“We were going to tell you, but it didn’t quite work out, and I’m sorry. I should have said something,” Lina said as she squeezed Susan’s shoulder. Susan went to pull away; Lina’s words stung for only a moment and she sidled back next to her aunt with a look that seemed almost apologetic, prompting Danny to speak.

“We let you down. I guess we wanted things to be like they were when we were little. I should have warned you…at the very least I should have….” His voice trailed off. And it was like they were little in a way as old fears and sadness filled the room like damp air on a hot day.

“I’m so sorry.” Lina looked her in the eyes. Hope deferred makes the heart sad, as it says somewhere. There was hope in everyone’s heart, if only for the moment Jerry spoke the girl’s name for the first time. But fulfillment doesn’t always come quick or easy, as their father’s absence showed all too well.

“It’s okay,” Susan said with a sigh. It wasn’t okay at all, but the girl had gotten used to disappointment and at that point, any movement away from pain was good; at least as good as it could get. She smiled weakly and stood.

“I’m…I’ve got to go lie down.” Tired comes in so many forms. Being energized by acceptance from other people at other places at other recent times did nothing to abate the fatigue of still-present rejection from the one person from whom she sought acceptance. The person whom she hadn’t stopped loving; whom she adored even now, since every child wants desperately to love their father even if he acts and says and does things that aren’t loving himself. She went to walk away but stopped as the sobs overtook her. Lina got up and grabbed her hand.

“Guys? I’m going to put Susan to bed, okay? Go ahead and grab something to eat,” she said, pointing to the food laid out on the dining room table.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Danny nodded. Carlo walked over to Lina and Susan, quickly followed by his brother. They hugged the pair and stepped away as Lina walked Susan down the hall to her bedroom.

A moment later Susan had shed her skirt and blouse and shoes and was lying under the covers; her head practically buried in her pillow. Lina lay on top of the blanket, still hugging the girl as she sobbed. It would have been better if Jerry hadn’t reached out tentatively; it almost felt as if he had intended all along to make a show while planning to withdraw. Like being rejected twice, the rejection was made stronger by his choice to speak her name only to dismiss her. Lina spoke silently in prayer as she held her niece. Soon both were asleep; safe and warm in the knowledge of love that still remained hopeful in the shattered family.

“Oh Queen of Narnia, what do you bid of me?” The woman sat on a divan; belying the words that almost harkened to an era of servitude. This woman wasn’t a servant in the basest sense, but her demeanor seemed to speak of a desire to please and a willingness to sacrifice. It wasn’t servitude. It was love. Love in the almost purest sense that gives instead of takes; that listens instead of speaks; that seeks to know instead of being known.

“I do not know for I do not know you.” Susan spoke. She was a visitor while the woman sat before her in her own kingdom as if she was the guest and not the ruler; not demanding or pushing or expecting, but treating Susan like the royal personage she was; merely a Queen of Narnia in the truest sense; royalty bestowed by the true ruler of every realm; the same ruler who bestowed royalty upon the woman before her.

“I know you. Because you are who you are. You are who you are because that’s how things have always been…and how they were meant to be.” The woman smiled demurely, as if she knew something secret that might be even fun to know. She stood up and walked to the throne that held the one she sought to serve. Susan found herself blessed by the woman’s presence. She stared at her as she stood with her head bowed.

“A Tarkeena?” She wondered without words at the woman’s garb. Nothing like her own save for the fabrics; rich brocades and silks, but arranged in a completely different way than her own garments. Dark blues and soft yellows and royal purple all surrounding the woman like a robe of office, but also like a dress made simply to adorn a beautiful woman, which she was.

“Not a Tarkeena….someone from someplace else? To the east?” She thought but her words were also spoken aloud, if entirely unintentional.

“I come from another land, but from the same place as you, Queen of Narnia.” A riddle to be sure. The same but different? No. Different but entirely alike. Susan placed her hand gently on her own breast, feeling the flesh under the soft silken cover. Not to be sensual, but almost as a check against what her thoughts and words might betray.

“We are the same because we are real as we ever have been.” The woman smiled and looked down upon her own body as if to indicate the similarity of which she spoke. She shook her head; not in denial of the truth, but against the force of the lie both of them were compelled to live for so long. She smiled again.

“We are on the same journey, oh my precious Queen.” The woman stepped to the dais and leaned closer; supported by the arms of the throne, she stood before kneeling down. Susan felt threatened and safe all at the same time. The woman sat down on the marble dais before the throne and put her head against Susan’s knees as if she was a child seeking her mother’s comfort. But it was she who sought to comfort rather than be consoled. She looked up into Susan’s eyes to behold shame and doubt and fear; reflecting as it were, the complete opposite in her own eyes. She smiled. Her adoring gaze seemed to strip away all the defenses the lies had built; leaving instead love and peace and joy and hope…

A moment later she saw that instead of in a throne room she stood at the foot of a bridge over a very wide chasm that looked down on a white-capped raging river. On the other side stood a very large lion who was accompanied by the woman she had seen only moments before…if it had been only moments…

“Come, Susan.” The lion’s voice felt like a cross between a growl and a purr.” She looked at the bridge. It was filled with holes and seemed almost rickety.

“May I come later?”

“It is time.”

“Are there no other bridges?” She looked around as if the chasm offered another way across.

“There is no other.”

“It doesn’t appear safe, O Lion,” she said as if she still was a little child. The lion emitted a low rumbling growl; more to indicate urgency than disappointment. She was weary even before the journey had hardly begun.

“Yet you must cross, dear one. Just like this precious daughter who stands beside me.” Susan looked to see the woman smiling. A confidence that gave her courage; that commonality of travelers on the same journey. She put a foot on the bridge; her body seemed to shake nervously but her heart was encouraged even as she stepped forward.

“Come to me.” She heard the voice, but instead of the lion, it was the woman who spoke; her arms open in welcome and her eyes shining brightly in love…..

Union County College, that Friday afternoon…

Susan sat on the bench at the bus stop. She was deep in concentration as she turned the pages of a worn, dog-eared copy of her favorite author. A second later she felt a presence and turned to find Noorah sitting beside her.

“Lewis is a favorite of mine as well.” Her accent was a mixture mostly of Union County but with a refinement that likely came from her British mother.

“A universalist from what I can gather. There’s hope for you Christians yet,” she teased. Susan’s face began to redden and she turned away, leading Noorah to come to the obvious if incorrect conclusion.

“Oh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of your faith.” She bowed her head while continuing to speak.

“And I didn’t mean to presume that my faith was …. It was entirely wrong of me. I am so sorry.” Noorah would have felt just as embarrassed with anyone else, but something deep inside urged her strongly….had been tugging at her for days, in fact, which made the shame of the moment even more painful. She put her hand on Susan’s arm and Susan pulled it away; slowly and deliberately, but without a word.

“Please forgive me, Susan? You’ve been through so much hurt and the last thing I wished to do was to add to your pain." Her words were met with silence. She bowed her head, hoping that she could find the right thing to say. Susan made it easier without communicating a single sentence as she turned toward Noorah. Her eyes were a bit red and puffy. She nodded with a half-smile before turning away once more; prompting Noorah again to touch her arm. This time she stayed still other than a slight nod before looking upward as if in prayer. She sighed and turned again to Noorah and spoke.

“I don’t know what to say….” She paused and bit her lip.

“Of course I forgive you, Noorah. Really…there’s nothing to forgive. I just…”

“You don’t want me to sit here with you?” Her inflection indicated a question, but it really was a statement; a means to verify what Noorah feared…desperately hoped against, in fact, since she had been troubled by dreams and shadows the past several nights. She sighed and went to stand up but this time it was Susan’s turn to reach out.

“No…stay…..Please?” It would be the only words exchanged for the rest of the day between the two. Noorah pulled out a tablet and began reading, but not before squeezing Susan’s hand. The girl smiled and returned her attention to Lewis. To say that she was confused would be a gross understatement. But even in her confusion, somehow doubt seemed to be stepping slowly away; a enemy beating a reluctant departure in defeat.

The two traded one or two glances before the shuttle pulled up next to the bus shelter. Susan stood up and went to leave. As she placed her foot on the step into the bus, she paused. She turned to see Noorah staring at her. Without knowing what to do, she did something that she hadn’t done since before her mother died. She blew a kiss to the young woman sitting on the bench before getting on the bus. In a few moments the bus was off down the driveway and off campus; leaving Noorah alone with her thoughts…thoughts that were just as confused but just as settled and peaceful as the girl she was beginning to love.

“You have listened to your fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them….”
C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian

Nomahegan Park, Cranford, New Jersey, a few days later…

A solitary figure sat on the bench in front of the large pond. Several ducks and one very fat goose sidled over to the man and looked up with expectation. A moment later tufts of soft bread lay scattered amidst them for a fleeting moment before they devoured the food with satisfied quacks and a fairly loud honk. The man smiled and spoke.

“Eat, drink, and be merry, kids.” He withheld the last phrase; the happy fowl needed no reminder of their own mortality even as he contemplated his own. He bowed his head in prayer, only to be interrupted by a familiar if somewhat peeved voice.

“This better be good, Jer. You can’t even know how angry I am right now.” Lina sat down next to her brother-in-law; a reluctant if accommodating pose as she leaned closer in rapt attention.

“It’s not good at all, Lina. I’m sorry to disappoint you.” He bowed his head once again as tears dripped off his chin onto the grass below. She stared at him and her eyes widened in realization as he raised his head enough to reveal a very tired countenance. The words came to her even as he put his hand on her wrist…’oh no.’

Calabria Pizza, Cranford, New Jersey…

“I don’t know what do,” Susan said to herself as much to Noorah. They sat across from each other in a booth; divided by Formica and particle board and years of fear and confusion and so many other things. But like the table between them, the differences were man-made and temporary. And the commonalities were much more than for what they could have hoped; and the one that could have divided them served to unite them.

”We don’t know yet what to do, but what we do know? I think….I feel fine.” Noorah pointed to herself with her palm facing inward, patting her heart.”

“I…I feel fine, too,” Susan said with a half-smile; a life-time filled with wonder and awe seemed almost shoved rudely aside by the past few years of neglect and hurt. Still, she remained hopeful. Her brothers loved her and her aunt loved her. And what about the woman before her? She felt almost in awe over the attention the woman’s eyes seemed to pay to every motion and expression she displayed.

“What?”

“You’re such a wonderful girl, Susan. I wish you appreciated that.” Noorah reached across the table and patted Susan’s hand, prompting the girl to pull back awkwardly. She stared at her hand as if she had been touched by something other than the bright-faced woman who sat before her.

“I know it’s hard to see. You’ve been told …maybe not in so many words…but you’ve been told you’re not real…that you’re no good…bad, in fact.” It might have been easy for Noorah to say that since her parents never once stopped loving her during her journey…a journey of faith in fact that was made clear and serene by that love. But she had traveled down the same road…perhaps on parallel paths…as Susan, but earlier and with much more clarity of purpose, since she never once was given reason to doubt her own faith and her gender.

“I know I’m real, and I’m just like you.” But for their difference in beliefs, they were alike in so many ways, even to the point of knowing as young children that they were much different inside than out. Both wanting so much to be exactly like the mothers who bore them and nurtured them. Their paths diverged as one father welcomed his new daughter even as the other father rejected the daughter while trying so desperately to love a boy who never existed. But one need not undergo hardship and hurt to embrace and value the hardship and hurt of others.

“I don’t know what to do, either…. But I feel good about what to do, if that makes sense?” Noorah patted the girl’s hand again. More than just a fellow traveler further down the road, the woman’s eyes indicate something so much more. While Susan may have been innocently…even absent-mindedly flirting with the woman, Noorah was serious and resolute; that knowing inside without really understanding….accepting on face-value, so to speak.

“I’m beginning to understand what they say about love at first sight.” Noorah smiled and Susan shrugged uncomfortably. It made no sense, since they had known each other for some time, even if it had been mostly casual and crowded with other friends and classmates. Noorah noticed the almost imperceptible half-smile on Susan’s face.

“What I mean is that I never really saw you before. I saw a person whom I understood only a bit and with no real desire to get to know better. You being from a different world, you know?” She pointed to her hijab and smiled.

“But we’re from the same exact world in which we all live. I know your faith means so much to you; you’ve said so in such a kind manner. There’s a calm assurance that you show that hardly ever comes out at any other time.” She spoke with a lilt in her voice as her gaze lifted upward to her hijab once again; a reminder that they both were comfortable in their own skin when it came to faith, so to speak.

“You are a very special woman,” Noorah continued. Susan shook her head and turned away; her gesture did nothing to hide the fact that Noorah’s words had brought her to unfamiliar if thankful tears.

“I don’t know why Allah does what he does; I do not pretend to know his will other than what he has revealed. But I know he has brought us together for a reason that is good, since it is his will. And it matters not that I do not understand for that reason and for one very other important reason; I am falling in love with you.” She smiled and it was too much to bear as Susan turned her face to the wall and began to cry softly. Another tap on the hand followed by,

“You should drink, Susan.” The girl turned to find their waitress holding two glasses of soda. She tried with only a bit of success in keeping her embarrassment in check. The waitress placed the glasses on the table and nodded with a smile to Noorah.

“I’ll be back with your order in a few, kay?” The girl said, quickly followed by the sound of bubble gum snapping sharply as she turned and walked back into the kitchen. Susan grabbed the soda and downed several nervous gulps.

“I’m not going to run away, Susan,” the woman assured her. And it really felt like that; a wiser, more mature woman welcoming the younger woman into herself in a way. Assurance gently brushing aside doubt and fear as she opened her heart to Susan; giving Susan every reason in the world to open her own heart.

“I….I didn’t mean to be so silly.” It was all she knew to say. Recalling the playful if tentative gestures of only days before; the moment of realization that she didn’t merely want to be serious, but that realization of what that seriousness meant to both of them. The girl who flirted by blowing innocent kisses in departing was becoming a young woman who longed for kisses…those same feelings that seemed to permeate every dream in sleep and even every day-dream while awake. While the young woman might still be desperate for the love of a father, it was that calm, perfectly ordinary want….no…that need for romance that nudged her closer, even if only in her heart.

Noorah made up the physical distance by pulling on Susan’s hand. The girl’s body leaned forward in eager obedience as Noorah offered her lips to Susan’s cheek. It would be the only show of affection in public for some time; a rare if needful expression of love that brought clarity of mind together with those assured feelings to blend into a nice mixture of confident love. Susan blushed deeply and began to cry once again. Noorah squeezed her hand; the gesture giving her the strength to regain composure at least for the moment. Time enough to cry together in calm acceptance when they would be alone; and there would be time to be alone as well.

“Errr….emmmm…” A voice seemed to come from above, but it was only their waitress, holding their food. She placed it on the table and smiled.

“Let me know if you need anything else, kay?” She used her head to gesture toward the kitchen door. Susan looked up and then back at Noorah before answering.

“Kay…”

Meanwhile at Nomahegan Park…

“Now I understand why you left….why you couldn’t face her.” Lina rubbed Jerry’s arm. He pulled away from her abruptly and frowned, but his disappointment wasn’t directed toward her.

“No, no! I couldn’t face her because I’m a coward. After all this time and I just couldn’t look her in the eye without feeling bad about myself. How selfish is that?” He shook his head and blew out a long breath. She went to grab his hand and he pulled away once again.

“You don’t understand, Lina. I didn’t even know until yesterday. When I left it was because I still don’t understand and still don’t care enough to try.”

“That’s nonsense, Jer, and you know it. You left the church because they wouldn’t even bother to see Susan’s side.”

“Because they were not being fair to me as a parent. It was all about me, Lina. Me…the selfish bastard who didn’t care enough to at least listen to her…Funny…I’m just getting used to using the right pronouns; sorta sad, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care, Jerry. You have a chance to make this right for her and you and the boys. You can still be a family,” Lina sighed and choked up at the last word.

“All the time in the world, Lina. That’s what Louise used to say to me…even after she got sick.” Lina’s eyes teared up at the mention of her sister.

“I never realized what she meant until now. That time didn’t hurt us since she’s still here, you know?” He patted his heart and Lina nodded.

“I’ve been such a fool…a selfish bastard.” He looked at her, almost waiting for her to give him absolution. She nodded her head instead and half-smiled.

“Well, you know what they say? God loves you just the way you are. But he loves you too much to let you stay that way?” Jerry nodded at the humor, but the conviction of the words was too much or perhaps just enough as he dissolved into shame-filled tears. She resisted the urge to comfort him; the last thing he needed was an endorsement of his poor choices and selfishness. She patted him on the back instead and looked upward. It really was true, she thought. We have all the time in the world.

Later that night…

“You have listened to your fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them….”

The lion stared at the young woman who stood at the edge of the chasm, looking back across the bridge she had just traversed. A huge cat grin crossed his face and he nudged her playfully with his nose; like a large tomcat looking for a scratch behind the ears instead of the King of the Realm.

She turned to find two women standing beside the Lion. One was clad in a flowing, ankle length gown of bright greens and yellows. Her head was covered with a purple cloth of fine silk, interwoven with gold threads. The woman beside her was clad in a gown of turquoise and she wore a thin circlet of fine silver on her head, which seemed to fade into her black and silver hair from the light of the setting sun.

“The time for fear is over, my sweet daughter.” The voice was at once painfully and joyfully familiar. Susan stepped closer and received her mother into her arms as the two wept in happy reunion. The woman next to them nodded to the lion and smiled at the pair.

“You have met Queen Louise; a Daughter of Narnia and your own mother. Heed her words, Susan.” The lion spoke softly; not in command, but in confident suggestion. Susan nodded and turned to her mother.

“You have the world ahead of you, my sweet girl.” The words pierced Susan’s heart; both by the truth and inevitability of them but also by the comfort they provided. It was the first time anyone had called her a girl, so to speak; a title rather than just a casual reference made by a friend. She gasped and sighed deeply before embracing her mother as she wept again.

“Every tear is important, Susan, but none more than these. They cleanse and free you, dear heart. Drink in the joy and gladness of your freedom.” Even as he spoke he seemed to be fading; a very large facsimile of a Cheshire Cat, but with the wisdom of healing instead of irony. She looked in her mother’s face to see it fading as well; a well-worn but cheerful visage that conveyed hope even as Louise spoke to her daughter for the last time.”

“You must let go to receive, my precious child. To grab the future you must release the past. I love you…always.” With that her mother and the lion disappeared, leaving her alone with the brightly clad woman; a woman whose face was almost obscured by the fold of her head covering that revealed only two beautiful eyes that seemed to smile.

It began to rain; softly at first, but then in large droplets that fell almost soundlessly next to the thunder that roared from above, if it really was thunder. She shuddered at the sound and was almost taken aback by the flashing light until she gazed once again into the woman’s eyes. Peace and joy replaced fear in that moment as she knew everything would finally be righted and everything would be alright….

Susan stood in the middle of a large, brightly lit hall. The sound of a soft breeze echoed; the quiet flapping of large tapestries against the marble walls. It was almost like a palace. And wherein a palace she stood, there must be some royalty. She looked down at her clothes; nothing more than the usual jeans and sweater she had been wearing….hardly the garb in which to welcome a king or queen. She heard a voice; booming and gentle at the same time, it shook her being while all at once soothing her soul.

“You know what you must do.” She nodded even as the words echoed.

“But….” As soon as her own word was spoken she felt convicted. But in some large way it was good, even though it felt bad, as some of you might know. And there was no condemnation; merely instruction as the voice spoke again.

“If you wish to receive what lies before you, you must empty your hand.” She looked in her right hand and beheld a very beautiful brooch; a gleaming jewel such as she had never seen seemed to dazzle.

“But it is so beautiful…” And it was hers; she had earned it, she thought to herself.

“It is very beautiful, but if you wish to keep it, you cannot receive what is before you.” The voice sounded so calm; so warm….so fatherly. She looked ahead and saw a stone table. Stepping closer she saw another brooch. It was crude, and the gold seemed tarnish. Every facet of the jewel in the center seemed to display their flaws proudly. She looked around, as if she would find the voice had a face, but no one else was there.

“It is ugly,” she said in protest even as her hand closed tightly against the brooch in her hand.

“It is not pretty, but nor is it ugly, child. It merely is what it is.” She closed her eyes and heard a smile, as odd as that seems and she opened her hand. The brooch in her palm was just as beautiful as ever, but the lure of the beauty was waning, like the fading taste of a fine dinner; it was diminishing in the eyes of her heart.

“Let it go, child and take what is yours,” the voice spoke one last time before the room returned to the sounds only of a gently breeze. She looked at the brooch in her hand; it was as beautiful as ever and almost filled her palm, but it was small. She dropped it and stepped closer to the table. The brooch on the table was no different in appearance but it seemed much larger than she had remembered only moments before. She picked it up; a weight on her palm for something so small; it seemed so much more important… more valuable than she had ever imagined.

No voice was heard but for the words in her heart that spoke to her of value and worth and peace. Even as she felt that, she turned to see the brooch to which she had clung so tightly only moments before. It had grown smaller and the shine of the jewel was gone, replaced by a dirty glow that got darker with each breath she took until it looked like nothing more than a smudge on the marble floor.

She stepped away from the table and found herself; not in a marble hall, but in a clear, clean meadow. A cool stream of fresh flowery air filled her lungs and she smiled….

Nomahagen Park, late October...

Jerry sat in a bench facing the pond, looking nervously at his watch.

“10:26….damn.” He grabbed the bag of bread from his backpack and reached in for a handful, which he strewed across the ground in front of the bench. Several ducks and even an enterprising seagull walked over and began pecking at the food and each other.

“Dad…” He heard a voice from over his shoulder. He nodded and half-smiled before pointing to the bench without word. Susan sat down on the opposite end. He opened the bag of bread pieces once again, offering it to her silently. She took the bag almost cautiously, as if by handling it she might somehow make that dreaded contact with him. He spoke…

“Susan…” She looked up and away for a moment before turning to him wordlessly, blinking back tears.

“Susan…” He paused. It was only the third time in her lifetime that the most important person in her life spoke her name. He continued haltingly.

“I am so sorry.” Just that with no other modifiers or excuses. Still she held back. How in God’s name could anyone be expected to forgive such a betrayal? But still something in her heart persisted. She closed her eyes; tears streaming down her face. She had determined before hand to forgive him but it was so hard. What was it that she had heard once? As unfair as his treatment was, there was no fairness at all in life; not that it was bad, but that there was no scale weighing hurt against any blessing.

“Susan?” She looked up to see his face a mask of grief; not in that self-pitying sense that he had always conveyed. But real grief over a loss for which neither could bear. But how many times had she seen this? Contrition followed by disappointment. She took a deep breath and spoke.

“Do you know why we loved you reading to us at bedtime, Dad?” He squinted slightly; doesn’t every child enjoy bedtime reading? She shook her head no, almost hearing the words in his heart.

“Because it was the only time we saw you. When you read to us…when you and Mommy read to us it was the only time we saw you together other than in some line at church shaking hands and praying…” He went to speak and she cut him off with a dismissive wave.

“You had time for everyone but us, Dad. It didn’t matter that Danny scored a winning goal if you were off at the hospital visiting someone. It wasn’t ever good; when Carlo got that debate trophy in Middle School, you didn’t even say a word that night. Someone else was hurt or sad or scared and you helped them. Mommy…” Her voice began to break and he went to speak. Once again, she halted him, but instead of a dismissive wave, she gasped and held her hand out. He took it, patting it gently. She sniffled a bit and spoke again.

“You walked away from me when I needed you most, Dad. Mommy was gone,” she struggled to continue. Taking a deep breath, she plunged back into the cold water of the painful moments of her mother’s death.

“She …. You weren’t there, Dad. Something…I don’t even remember what, but she needed you every day, and you weren’t there for her. And you haven’t been there for me. When you came down the stairs at Lina’s …our home, it was like a dream… a Disney movie where everything turns out okay in the end. And then you left without a word. Why should I ….” She stopped at the squeeze of her hand.

“Third time’s the charm?” She thought to herself. Where did that even come from? Something about success after two failures. She realized that she had every reason to doubt; every reason to shy away in self-preservation. But in her heart she also realized something much greater…

“I’ve been looking…” She collected herself and continued to speak.

“I’ve been looking for things to forgive, Dad. Not just forgive, but looking for offenses to forgive. Keeping track…”

“Susan?” Jerry squeezed her hand once again; his speaking her name almost a way to ease her choice; an open door through which to walk. She smiled at him; a relieved smile that had more to do with her own forgiveness than anything of his.

“Dad…I’m so sorry. I’ve been so angry for so long, and I … Please forgive me?” She began to sob. He sidled closer to her and held her as she wept. No other words would have been needed between them; the first embrace between father and daughter a reason for celebration, if only for such a short time as Jerry spoke.

“We both…. I’m so glad that you’re…my daughter.” Proud would have been the word many would have expected; her prowess at archery would give any father reason to be proud. And her persistence and endurance in becoming herself in a manner of speaking after facing such a long challenge to be whom she was meant to be. But the words were so important. He was glad and she was finally his daughter.

“I’m so glad you’re my Dad.” She pulled back and their smiles mingled happily….

Dunkin Donuts, Cranford, a few weeks later…

Noorah sat with her back to the large window facing the parking lot. Susan walked over and put two large Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate down on the table along with two crullers. As she sat down, she felt someone walk up behind her.

“Susan?” The voice was familiar but the timber and even the ‘mood’ of the voice was different; changed? Subdued? She turned around.

“Tim?” Hardly a question, but a question none the less; Susan sat down almost unconsciously as she stared at her former friend. At least that’s what he appeared to be since he looked nothing like what any their classmates might have remembered.

“I’ve moved out of my house… Dad didn’t quite find it in his heart….” Tim shook his head; a gesture mirrored by both Susan and Noorah as they continued to stare at him. His clothes hadn’t changed at all; still a bit skate-boardish, so to speak. But his face seemed different; a change in his demeanor that signaled something deep inside was going on. He didn’t show any tears; not as a defense, but almost because what he was telling them had already been seen to emotionally.

“Mom was upset….more than upset. I think she’s …they’re getting counseling.” He put his head down; the counseling they would be getting would likely point fingers at his mother and him in an effort to ‘fix’ everyone; everyone being anyone besides his father.

“I’m so sorry, Tim.” Susan stood up and hugged the boy awkwardly. He patted her back as she held him tight. It became immediately apparent that he was human after all, and he began to cry in her arms. Noorah reached over and grabbed his hand.

“N…no…Susan? I…I’m sorry. For everything. For nothing….” The choice of words seemed odd until he continued.

“Everything I’ve….b…believed about myself is nothing….it’s never been real. Just what my father told me. I…” He looked around Susan and saw Noorah’s half-frown of empathy. It hurt to find her so kind and considerate; making what he had to say all the more painful.

“I realized….. I….I’m different….”

“Different?”

“I… the same.” It made no sense until he put the two together.

“You and me…. The same….” He pulled back and looked at her up and down; almost an inventory, but entirely benign, as if he was listing her assets rather than being his normal judgmental self. He blinked back tears even as they flowed. The look on his face seemed to be one of defeat, but it wasn’t over what was bad in him, but what was good. Like he finally gave in to what he had wondered about all his life.

“I’m not what my father wants me to be… not who…not anything. He hates me. Just like you.”

“I don’t hate you, Tim….” Susan went to pull him back into an embrace but the boy shook his head.

“No…not you….He hates me because I’m just like you….” His voice trailed off as his eyes repeated the same quick inventory. Susan shook her head; wondering what he was looking at. Noorah noticed her expression and her gaze darted back and forth between the two until her eyes widened in understanding recognition.

“Like us, Tim?” Noorah said it softly; no condemnation or proud enlightenment, but instead an calm empathetic near-sigh that spoke to the boy’s heart. He nodded; almost wearily.

“He hates you just the way he hates us?”

“Us?” Susan said and it dawned on her exactly what Tim had been trying to share. It wasn’t at all like the stories she had read or even any of the dreams she imagined for herself nor for Noorah or anyone else for that matter. It was exactly the same pain and sadness and sorrow and almost helpless resign she had felt every single day of her estrangement with her father. It wasn’t about him or her or Noorah only, but about every person she knew who had struggled with the same rejection.

“I’m so sorry, Tim.” Noorah said as she rubbed his hand softly. Susan pulled him close. It crossed her mind to ask him a thousand questions, but he didn’t need to explain himself; he…. the person inside needed a friend to hold that inner being since no one else on the face of the earth would…at least for the present. She asked one question only; an understandable curiosity that she had witnessed in others when she first told her friends who she was.

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t have one….” It was all too freeing and painful at the same time. What should have been a joyous occasion became instead a moment of sad reflection; that feeling of being unworthy and unloved that had never crossed Tim’s mind since he was or had at least tried to be what his father expected. But there had almost been no time for the newness and wonder of self-awareness as his heart had been crushed by his father’s angry demands.

“I think it’s okay for now if we just call you dear or honey, okay?” Noorah said. Tim looked at her and half-smiled before dissolving further into a tearful renewal mixed equally with sadness and joy.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay…”

Some weeks later....

“It’s not fair.” Susan wept on Jerry’s shoulder; her face buried in his jacket.

“I’m so sorry,” Jerry wept along with her. He stroked her hair. How could a loving God allow them to reconcile only to take him away so soon? What was her faith even worth alongside this betrayal? She wanted to pound his chest for all the times she needed him. She wanted to scream for all the times she fell asleep feeling hurt and rejected. And now the ultimate rejection? But something deep inside her seemed to rise up; a warm feeling that pushed aside the anger like a cool shower on a warm day.

“Dad? I don’t want to lose you….Now that you’ve…” she sobbed.

“Now that I’ve found you? You will never lose me….” He wanted to add her name, but even then it was still so awkward to think of her in a completely different way. Acceptance and understanding don’t always tag along with comprehension. He spoke.

“You have room in your heart next to Mom for me, don’t you?” It was almost a silly question, but after years of neglect, it was hard for Jerry to apprehend the forgiveness she had already extended. She nodded, blinking back tears while her face displayed almost hurt.

“I…don’t want to have you….just in my heart, Dad…. I want to hold you and have you hold me and tell me that everything will be okay.”

“I know, honey, I know.” It was the first time since she was five that he had called her honey. Almost better than her own name; it was an endearment that would mean the world to her…a treasure to be held close to her heart. And as sad as the moment was, she still felt in some wondrous way that as painful as it might be, even now it was going to be alright….

Mid-December...

The morning dew lay almost icy against the cold but was warming in the early sunshine. Noorah stood next to Susan; a cold rain had fallen, and their umbrella seemed completely useless. She stared at the grave plaque.

“Louise Adrian Albanese; 1968 - 2006, Beloved Wife and Mother 'too soon'"

And beside her plaque, a new one had been placed;

"Gerald Mark Albanese 1961 — 2014, Beloved Husband of Louise; Father to Susan, Daniel, and Carlo 'never too late'”

“Promise me you won’t be upset?” Susan frowned and Noorah grabbed her arm and squeezed gently.

“I know…it really isn’t fair, no matter what anyone says. And it hurts so much.” She half-smiled at Susan, causing her to surrender to the safety that Noorah offered. She began to cry. Noorah pulled her close for a hug. After a few minutes Susan pulled away slightly and smiled, as if to say ‘I’m alright.” Noorah squeezed her hand.

“Danny and Carlo are going to meet us at home. Will your sister be able to make it for dinner?”

“She called to say she might be a little late, but she’ll be there. My Mom and Dad are going to get there late as well, but my father said to give you this, okay?” Noorah stepped close and kissed Susan on both cheeks; a warm gesture from a loving parent.

“And of course both he and Mom will tell you this, but Dad wanted you to hear it first thing, okay? Khosh Amadid!” Susan blushed and tears came to her eyes; the one thing she needed more than anything else in her life finally bestowed twice. She had been learning Farsi, and was touched; welcomed by a new family; a long-sought sense of worth that began when her father changed and now made even better. She smiled and spoke.

“Mamnoon,” a near whisper followed by a kiss on both cheeks for Noorah. She had so much to be thankful for, but especially for the love she shared with the love of her life. She pulled Noorah in for a strong hug.

“Wish me luck?” It was going to be an interesting afternoon. She awaited the final decision by the committee; the Olympics were only months away, and it was a pretty good bet that she’d make the team. The entire Korean contingent and the Chinese as well would likely sweep the medals in some fashion, but she’d give it all she had. And of course the day was ever more special.

“Happy Birthday,” Noorah said. She handed Susan a box wrapped in pink tissue with a red ribbon.

“It’s turquoise. I know you love the color, but are you sure?” Susan smiled at her question and nodded before opening up the box. Another smile brightened an otherwise dreary day as she pulled the bright soft garment from the box and put it on.

“How do I look?” She asked. Noorah smiled.

“You look beautiful.” She touched the cloth by Susan’s throat, brushing against the silver cross that hung on a chain around Susan’s neck as she adjusted the hijab. The drape of the soft fabric covered the cross, causing Noorah to speak,

“I’m sorry… I know this is important to you, “ she said as she pointed to where the cross would normally be displayed.

“It’s fine. I have it in my heart.” She paused and a grin widened as she said finally,

“Just like you!” She looked around; they were alone in the morning cold on a hillside almost hidden by trees. A rare moment where she could show what she meant in a modest way; she kissed Noorah and squeezed her hand.

“In my heart."

8f2da9f2c55683971c26d033f8ee1e76 (1)_0.jpg

Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance

U.C.C., late February, the student lounge……

Two young women sat with a young man; each trying to look hopeful and while looked apprehensive.

“You …you need to connect, honey.” Noorah smiled, but Tim turned away. Susan reached over and brushed the dark hair from his eyes; it had gotten quite long and almost pretty in an unkempt sort of way. She sighed at the thought that after all this time the girl she had begun to know still had no name.

“Did you contact the therapist about the group support?” She asked. Tim shook his head no.

“My therapist is out of town for the month, but I bet she’d do a sliding scale.”

“I don’t have any money. And I can’t stay at my cousins’ house any more. My uncle and my Dad decided it was best if they didn’t enable my delusion. No job either. He managed to convince my boss that helping me would only hurt me, and since he’s on the church board…” Tim put his head down and barely kept from crying as he continued.

“'Hound of Heaven,' he calls it. I’m being hemmed in so that I stop sinning.”

“That’s a nice adage without a shred of truth,” Noorah said with a frown. She looked away as if to gather her thoughts, but as she turned back Tim had already stood up. He practically bowed to the two before speaking.

“I’m sorry…I’m such a fuck up. I can’t even do me without screwing it all up. I’ve… I’m back home. And I’m sorry…” he turned and walked quickly out of the lounge. Noorah turned to Susan and saw that she’d started to cry.

“I…I feel so helpless…, Noor…. It’s…it’s like watching someone die.” She put her head down and began to weep; mournful with only a bit of hope that the dear one they both loved would somehow be resurrected. Noorah reached over; her eyes glistening brightly through her own tears.

“I know…. I know.” It was small consolation, but it still became a comfort as Noorah squeezed Susan’s hand.

The McKenna home….a few days later...

“We’ve already discussed this, Tim.” Pat looked up from his Bible to see his son leaning against the door frame of his study.

“Dad…please?” The boy plead. If Pat had taken the time to really listen, he would not only have gathered the intent behind the words the boy spoke, but the person behind the intent. He gathered neither and continued anyway.

“Your Mother and I have been going to counseling, and I expect you to join us tomorrow afternoon. You may be nearly twenty, but since you moved back under our roof and you’re still our son? I told you that leaving was going to fail. You just need to trust us, Tim. Stop striving and trust God.”

“I’m…" Tim stammered and Pat put his hand up.

“That’s enough!” Pat placed a post-it between the pages of his Bible before closing it. He reached into his desk and handed Tim a brochure.

“Sexuality and the Christian” it read. A well-intended if altogether ignorant and self-satisfied gesture, as if Pat had accomplished something instead of trying to actually have a relationship. He half-smiled, barely hiding his impatience.

“You’re just confused.” His tone couldn’t have been more detached if he tried. Tim took the brochure and folded it; putting it in the back pocket of his jeans without a word. Pat looked down at his desk as if he was an officer dismissing a subordinate.

“Dad…please?”

The boy had already resigned himself to failure as his father remained motionless and silent. He backed out of the doorway and went down the hall to his room. Opening the door, he surveyed the room. Long idle pastimes seemed to taunt him from dusty shelves and posters. A baseball bat and mitt lay idle against the far wall by the window; still treasured but nearly useless as his body had become weak from self-medication and pharmaceutical adjustments best done with help from a sympathetic doctor. He recalled a favorite movie and laughed at the irony of his own failures.

“A league of MY own,” he thought as he placed his hand on his chest, evoking an odd and guilt-ridden feeling. He closed the door behind him and walked to his bed. Sitting on the edge he removed his Nikes and gazed at the only homage to his existence. Clear polish was better than none at all, wasn't it?

His hand went to his face; never fuzzy to begin with, he found that his cheek was smooth and soft. And what could have brought only a small comfort instead sent waves of shame throughout his being. He sighed deeply before throwing himself onto his pillow, where he wept until he fell asleep.

Saturday night…Nomhagen Park

A solitary figure walked up to a bench by the large pond. The young woman teetered slightly; owing more to her condition than to the heels of her boots. She sat down and pulled a bottle out of the paper bag sticking out of her large purse. She unscrewed the cap and took a long swig; her eyes watered and she spluttered a little before swallowing the rest of the mouthful. She looked around and noticed that it had gotten dark; much later than she had thought when she ventured out to the liquor store. She stared at the bottle and sighed.

“Good to the last drop,” she said to herself as she took another draught. She wondered if the clerk’s preoccupation with her was due to her dress. Clothing or the one clothed, it mattered little as she took another swig; longer and slower, the sting was lessening with every swallow. She stared at her lap; her skirt had ridden up and she found herself oddly lucid enough to be glad at the choice of dark leggings. She sighed once more and looked around; her head felt heavy and she blinked as if to gain focus on what was becoming a very dark night. Sighing one last time, she lay down on the bench and began to sob softly….

A while later...

The ambulance doors were swung wide open, awaiting their precious cargo. Two women had just placed the young woman onto the gurney and rolled it quickly to the back of the ambulance; shoving it in. The young cop continued to hold the girls hand before stepping out. It was the first kind act she had experienced in a long time. The girl moaned as the gurney slid sideways and banged into the cabinet lining the left side of the vehicle.

“It’s okay, honey…it’s okay…” the older of the two said; almost motherly. The girl looked up from her stupor; the drugs happily had little chance to take a lethal effect when she had vomited on the ground by the bench. She had actually tried to grab the bottle of vodka from her backpack when she passed out. The cop happened upon her about an hour later and called dispatch.

“What’s your name?” the younger of the two asked with a half-smile; relief gladly expressed after seeing too many young men and women in the back of their ambulance. The girl looked up, confused.

“What’s your name?”

“Tttt….” The girl gasped in a hoarse whisper; her throat already raw from bile and alcohol. The older of the two leaned closer; her ear almost touching the girl’s lips.

“Tttt….” The girl said weakly before she turned her head and began to cry softly.

“Sonofabitch!” The woman looked at her partner as the ambulance pulled out of the park and into traffic. The other woman stared at her in question until she finished.

“Her…” she paused, shaking her head; there wasn’t much that she hadn’t seen in nearly twenty years as an EMT, but this was a first.

“Her…oh damn...his name is Tim….”

The next morning, Faith Chapel, Scotch Plains

The church almost seemed to sway at the lively music from the singers on the platform. Liz McKenna sat in the front row; one seat over from the center aisle. She breathed out a heavy sigh and looked to her left at the empty chair. She shook her head; confusion mixed with guilt mixed with only a little self-justified assurance as she wondered about the lie she had told Pat about Tim's absence.

One small fib about his absence paled in the shadow of the mammoth lies to herself about her own family; she didn't even know where Tim was for starters and it probably didn't really matter to Pat. She barely noticed as he stood up and walked to the platform and nodded with a smile at the worship leader. The young man nodded back and stepped off the platform and down to the front row, sitting opposite where Liz sat by herself.

“Isn’t God great?”

His exhortation was met with nods and shouts of amen throughout the congregation, oblivious to the drama being played out in their midst. Liz looked up and squinted; a questioning expression that Pat missed entirely as he began his sermon.

“It says in the book of Matthew, ‘Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!’” More nods and quieter murmurs of amen; agreement was a good thing, wasn’t it? He continued.

“We have not because we ask not….We can go to God for anything because he’s our Father, and he cares about us.” Liz bit her lip and looked away; ashamed and scared. Pat continued.

“But asking for just anything isn’t in his will, unless what you ask for is his will also. You can’t just go to God with a shopping list and expect to be satisfied.” He held up a medium sized pad and pointed to the writing on the page.

“And if you’re doing what is contrary to God’s will…his written Word… you’re not going to get what you want or if you do it won’t make you happy at all.” He smiled with a bit of his own satisfaction over how well his sermon was going.

Liz put her hand to her face and covered her eyes for a second; that foolish gesture we all do when we hope that when we remove our hand that everything will appear normal and good. She pulled her hand away only to see her husband’s self-satisfied half-smile as he actually stared at the empty chair next to Liz. Her eyes followed his gaze and she looked at the seat beside her before getting up and walking to the side exit. Instead of trying to get Pat’s attention, she stared back at the empty chair; the not-knowing was the hardest. She sighed deeply before walking out as Pat continued.

“’Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life and only a few find it.’”

She heard his voice echo as the hallway speakers broadcast his message. She stopped in mid-stride and balled her fists up in frustrated anger; not at Pat but at the irony that accused her and convicted her as she remembered her only child and wept at his absence.

Trinitas Hospital, Elizabeth, New Jersey, Monday Morning…

“Can you tell me who you are?” The woman set the clipboard aside and leaned closer to the bed.

“You already know…you have my ID…” He turned away; his face darkening with shame.

“No….no…I know that. Tell me who you are. “ The soft central-Asian accent was accompanied by a welcoming smile, which still did little to draw Tim out of his cold retreat. She leaned closer and touched the rail of the bed. Dr. Farah Alaampoor, her nametag read.

“It’s okay, you know? I’m not here to judge. We want to help you. I know you’re over eighteen so we won’t contact anyone without your permission.” A routine statement, but the woman’s smile seemed to warm up the room.

“You…you already know,” he said as he looked down at his body; as if the offensive part of him was still visible and jarring. She tilted her head and half-frowned.

“No, actually I don’t know.” It wasn’t at all a rebuke but a sincere expression that went beyond curiosity or even an obligatory part of her job. She continued.

“I do know that you must be very tired and hurt, Tim.” She was almost reluctant to use his name, given that who he was went far beyond how he presented himself when he was brought into the ER Saturday night.

“It’s a good thing that the officer found you.” Tim shook his head no at her encouragement.

“I know the pain must be so bad. So bad that it feels like you can’t go on? That no one understands?” He nodded almost reluctantly; as if in acknowledging the truth of her words he would have to…be forced to continue his sad existence. He put his head back and began to cry. She held his hand cautiously and spoke.

“You’re going to find that place inside from where you’ve drawn strength and assurance. And I know you’ll find a way to see past these painful moments.” She wasn’t downplaying his hurt, but rather helping him to begin the process of growing stronger.

“And maybe you’ll find a name along the way? He blinked back tears and looked at her with an anxious confusion.

“Something the people in cultures where I come from…. Many believe that names that have meaning beyond birth. A name that truly represents who you are. And maybe a name that will help others understand the person you have come to be?” She smiled. It was all too much to hope for.

“Don’t…” He turned away again and began to cry again.

“Oh, no…no…. please… it’s alright. There’s no hurry.”

“It’s just that…. I don’t have anywhere to go.” He stammered between sobs. It was more than where to go but to whom to turn for comfort and encouragement and acceptance.

“Not quite true,” a voice spoke from the doorway. Farah turned to find two young women and a young man in the doorway. Noorah and Susan stood, hand in hand; behind them was a tall young man in dark blue scrubs He smiled and waved at Tim.

“H…hi….Su…Noor…Danny…” Tim spoke with a rasp. His face grew red from embarrassment; mostly from the way things were but also from an odd feeling of doubt mixed with hope and wonder that arose from a place within.

“I …I’m so sorry, Tim.” Susan rushed to the bed side. Dr. Alaampoor stood up and used her hand to gently usher the girl closer.

“I’ve got to check in out front; I’ll be at the Nurse’s station if you need me, okay?” Her voice softly tugged at Tim and he smiled; the first time in a while. She smiled back and nodded at Noorah and Danny as she left the room.

“I should have known…you could have come to stay at our place.” Susan rubbed Tim’s hand softly. Tears spilled onto his wrist.

“I…I wasn’t …. I didn’t…” His words came haltingly; shame, even in the midst of love and forgiveness, will do that.

“We should have seen this coming,” Noorah insisted as she and Danny stepped closer.

“I…I couldn’t do anything…nothing…” Tim turned his face away and wept. Susan rubbed his back; her tears matching his.

“Well….we can do something now.” A fourth visitor stood in the doorway. Lina put her hand on Danny’s shoulder and squeezed before stepping closer to the bed.

“I’ve got plenty of room for you, honey.”

“I….” He stammered again.

“Shhhh….it’s okay.” Lina put her hand on Susan’s neck and massaged it while leaning closer to display the fifth of the morning’s welcoming smiles. Tim leaned back against the pillow and covered his face with the back of his hand, feeling entirely unworthy. She placed a large eco-friendly grocery bag on the bed. She pulled out a long dark blue corduroy jumper and a white turtle neck.

“I figured you’d need something to wear. We can wait outside while you get changed. I talked to the doctor just before she came in. You’re okay to come home.” At the word home, Tim began to sob as the impact of her words stripped away the last vestiges of defense. Susan grabbed both of his hands in hers and kissed them.

“You’ll never want for a place to stay.” The softness of Lina’s words was interrupted by the harsh tones of impatience that echoed from just outside the room.

“Where’s my son?” Pat McKenna said as he went to push past Danny into the room. Danny put his arm across the doorway, barring Pat’s entrance.

“Sorry, no visitors allowed.” Danny laughed but the look on his face was anything but mirthful.

“I’m sorry, Pastor McKenna, but you can’t come in,” Danny said as he closed the door behind him, pushing Pat back into the hallway.

“What do you mean. He’s my son and I want to see him.” Pat’s tone seemed to go from arrogant to almost childish in a second. Danny sighed and spoke.

“You can drop by at my aunt’s house….if it’s okay, but I’d call first if I were you.” The words prompted a return to self-important posturing.

“I don’t have to take this from you, Danny Albanese!” He said Danny’s name almost as a curse word. Danny just grinned.

“How many people have to be hurt before you get it, Pat?” The familiarity of Danny’s words pushed hard against the bravado of Pat’s and he pushed back; literally.

“Sorry, but she needs time.” Danny spoke softly; almost like a father speaking to a disappointed child as he stood his ground.

“That’s the problem right there! There is no ‘she!’ That’s my son.” His voice seemed to almost break from the stress. A second later he felt a hand on his back.

“Pastor McKenna? What seems to be the problem?” Dr. Alaampoor stood next to Pat and tilted her head in question. She knew exactly what the problem was, and it didn’t lie inside the doorway.

“This boy won’t get out of the way….” He shot a mean glance at Danny and continued.
“I want to see my son.”

“I’m sorry, but your daughter is of age and as such I cannot allow her to be disturbed; even by a parent. I recommend you contact her once she is settled at home.

“That’s what I’m here for…to take him home. And another thing; why do you insist on calling him ‘her?’ That’s my son.” Pat looked as if he would try to push past Danny but the idea quickly faded as Danny stepped back and against the door with his arms folded.

“Your child has been through a significant trauma and needs your understanding. I know you’re a parent and you also are a visiting chaplain here. What you do outside of this building and even this hospital may be your concern but what you do while you stand here is mine. Your child will be safe enough and I believe she’ll be in excellent hands.” Dr. Alaampoor resisted the urge to smile and kept her expression almost dead-pan. That only seemed to fuel Pat’s outrage.

“You can’t!” He said as he went to push past Danny.

“She can and she just did. You may own everything out there, but not here and not now.” Danny took his hand and grabbed Pat’s wrist; pulling it away from the door.

“I’m going to complain to the administration. I have friends on the board!” Pat said, backing away; his face growing hot and dark.

“I am truly sorry you feel that way, Pastor McKenna,” Farah said with a half-frown.

“Oh…and Pat?” Danny said. Pat turned to face him and Danny smiled before his face grew sober and his tone respectful if almost reluctant.

“Sorry for being so abrupt. But please think about who your child is? She really needs you to love her. Right now I don’t think she even loves herself.”

“There you go again…it’s not ‘herself, Danny. And you’re just playing into his sin.” Pat shook his head; his expression seemed almost earnest. Danny mirrored the head shake.

“If we say we love God? You’re withholding your love from your own child, Pat. I feel so sorry for you.” At Danny’s words, Pat made one more attempt to push past him, but Danny gently guided him away from the door. Pat’s face turned red.

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Pat said as he marched off to the elevator.

“Insha'Allah, Pastor McKenna.” She smiled and turned to see Danny stifling a grin. She shook her head and spoke.

“Tell her to call me if there’s anything I can do?” She handed Danny her business card.

“Thank you,” he said and he opened the door, only to find the curtain drawn.

“Come back in about ten, Danny. She’s changing,” Lina called from behind the curtain.

“Okay…I’ll go grab a coffee.” He walked back out and closed the door.

“She’s changing….” He mused as he laughed softly to himself, and an odd feeling seemed to tap him on the shoulder, so to speak as he walked to the stairwell across the hall.

Lina and Susan’s home, a short while later…

“I don’t know what to say…” Tim looked around; four friends stood in poses that almost begged for a group hug, but it was too overwhelming and his emotions were already sitting on the surface; raw and exposed. He pulled back; literally bumping against a chair in an effort to withdraw. Lina stepped closer and held out her hand.

“Let me show you your room, okay?” She swept her hand toward the stairs. Tim nervously took her hand and stepped cautiously behind her as they disappeared.

“I can’t believe she actually tried to kill herself.” Danny said with a head shake.

“I don’t think she tried as much as she didn’t care what happened,” Noorah replied as she looked up the stairs.

“It’s my fault…” Susan lamented.

“I should have known this would happen.”

“No…we should have anticipated this, but we didn’t. And that’s all over and done with. Here and now we can support her. All of us.” Noorah smiled and made a point not to look at Danny. At the hospital she had noticed a glance here and an expression there that seemed to go beyond just being a support.

“I still feel so bad.” Susan sighed. “It was….I felt so helpless knowing what she’d done…that…”

“But she didn’t, and that’s the important thing. And we’ll be here for her, okay?” Noorah stepped closer and put her head against Susan’s.

“We can only do what we can, dear one. And we will, Insha'Allah.”

She touched Susan just under her neck; the outline of a cross barely visible underneath the hijab. A melding of hearts that allowed for two faiths as the two girls were becoming one, so to speak. Susan smiled at Noorah and looked over at Danny, whose attention seemed to be drawn to the stairs. She raised her right eyebrow playfully before drawing Noorah close. Both girls seemed to glow, but a moment later their faces grew just a bit red as Danny spoke.

“Ladies? I’ve got to get back to the hospital…I’m covering for Ingu… his wife delivered last night.” He paused and looked at the two young women and practically beamed.
“But I wanted you to know how much I really …. admire you. I think that your friendship is just what Tim needs, and I’m glad that ….she’s got you in her life.” He stumbled over the last few words; even after knowing about his friend’s situation it was still odd to call the girl Tim and use the proper pronouns. But he was also troubled in a way in how he had already begun to view this girl he had known for so long as a boy. His own face began to turn a dark pink.

“If you see Dr. Alaampoor, would you thank her again for her help?” Susan asked; seeing the growing, awkward embarrassment that Danny seemed to show as he absentmindedly turned his face away from them as he cast his glance once again at the stairs.

“Sure thing. Tell Tim… uh…..”

“Yes, Danny.” Noorah said with a grin.

“And Danny?” Susan said, getting his attention.

“It’s okay,” she practically giggled as he reached for the front door; still distracted. He nodded and grinned sheepishly before walking out.

“Now…where were we?” Noorah asked as she arched her own right brow. Susan nodded with a demure look before giving into a very welcoming kiss.

Trinitas Hospital Radiography, Monday Night…
The evening went slowly with a remarkably few patients other than a boy with a broken ulna from a late afternoon bike spill and a young woman who had jammed her ankle from a fender-bender in the early evening. Danny sat down in the break room and looked at the clock on the far wall.

10:12pm.

He put his head down and tried to pray, but instead of insight all he gained was more confusion as every time he closed his eyes he was met with a vision of a young woman; short dark hair accompanied by a very sad, tearful expression. It must be God putting her on his heart, since she was so sad and discouraged. But the face distracted him and he opened his eyes, frustrated.

He looked at the clock again.

10:16pm.

He closed his eyes and began to pray; silently and with no words, but with a face to recall and a heart to do the right thing. But instead of the expected urge to be an encouragement or a support, Danny found himself staring in his mind’s eye at the girl once again. And instead of brotherly comfort, he felt an attraction; an attraction that felt selfish and foolish and would have felt wrong but for the feeling that the girl in his vision was not just a girl to help and support, but to hold and care for and love. The growing warmth in his heart was matched by a warmth on his face; an awkward and almost a child-like embarrassed blush. And Danny smiled.

Later at home...

“This can be your room,” Lina said as she opened the door to the bedroom. Tim looked in and shook her head. The bed was large and roomy, with piles of pillows and a cozy looking crocheted throw folded in a triangle at the foot of the bed.

“I kept this just for such an occasion,” Lina said as she nudged the girl into the room and over to the closet. As the girl passed the tall dresser by the closet door she saw her reflection in the dresser mirror and shuddered. Lina noticed and redirected Tim’s attention to the closet once again.

“There’s not much here, but some of it is current and we can add to it sometime in the next few days or even the weekend if you’re up to shopping. Maybe Kohl’s? They have a nice store in Linden, or maybe just run over to Wal-Mart, okay? And I can pick up the essentials when I’m on my way home from work.”

“O…Okay….” Tim’s face grew red; the two demons of shame and guilt on her shoulders shouting loudly without a sound in condemnation. The few things she had were discarded at the hospital in favor of the clothes on her back, and the thought of someone believing her enough to get her something simple made no sense. Lina left the room but returned a moment later.

“Here’s a couple of things to tide you over until we can get out, okay?” Lina thrust a couple of pairs of cotton panties and two bras into Tim’s hands.

“I…I….” She stammered.

“Listen…I know this isn’t easy.” Lina guided the girl over to the bed and sat her down. She took the garments from her and laid them on the bed before sitting down next to her.

“Susan and I had a talk when she first came here. It was so hard for her since she was used to being rejected and hurt, and it was very difficult to believe that someone actually cared for her. Danny and Carlo helped, but she needed to know that someone understood, you know?”

“You’re almost on overload right now. I don’t know what else you need, but you’ve been trying very hard not to be yourself; even with us. You don’t have any timetable, Tim. Whenever and however it works out, Susan and I are here to listen, okay?” Lina smiled; the one thing that Tim so desperately needed and had been so sorely missed; a motherly smile. She leaned close and buried her face in Lina’s shoulder and sobbed.

“Shhh….shhhhh….It’s going to be okay, honey.” She stroked the girl’s hair and kissed her forehead; a blessing as well as a welcome gesture.

“It’s going to be okay.” Lina repeated and pulled the girl closer; a kind, warm, and treasuring embrace that pushed all the hurt aside. The hug was nearly too much for Tim and she pulled away; her face redder still awash with tears. She shook her head in argument before falling into the pillow, sobbing even harder. Lina sighed in frustration, but redoubled her resolve and fell on the bed beside the girl. She pulled Tim closer and held her tight as the girl continued to release a lifetime of pain.

“Shhh….shhh…” Lina whispered as Tim gave into the security of Lina’s hug. In a few minutes she had fallen asleep in the motherly embrace. Lina looked toward the ceiling and beyond as she wiped away her own tears; mouthing ‘Thank you.’

The next morning at the Albanese house...

“Hey…did you pick up milk and eggs?” Carlo asked as Danny walked through the kitchen door. Both brothers had been living away from home but moved back to take care of their dad during his final days. Danny walked past his brother and placed a bag of groceries on the table.

“And some rye bread and coffee…I took a look before I left for the hospital yesterday morning.”

“How did that go….is Tim okay?”

“So far, so good, in spite of what our dear good Rev. McKenna had to say.” Danny shook his head.

“Oh, jeez, that had to be entertaining.” Carlo said with a wry smile. Both brothers had faced the brunt of Pat McKenna’s ‘love the sinner’ mantra when several of their friends abandoned them when Susan came out. A few returned apologetically only recently; gestures met with sad regret and happy tears at their reunion.

Only one soul had been ‘left behind;’ an ironic turn of phrase owing more to the realization that Tim was not only alone but in very grave peril at the mercy of her father than to any theological construct. It was indeed the ‘End Times,’ but only in the sense that a few folks decided to end their relationship with Pat’s church and even sadder still; a few decided to walk away completely from their faith. Those sheep were important to Danny and Carlo even if they didn’t count as any loss to the church.

“It was sorta sad,” Danny said; putting his head down. Even if they cut Pat off at the pass, so to speak, every angry and demanding word echoed in the hallway outside Tim’s room and he displayed once again just how little he understood about his only child. The daughter who felt so hopeless and helpless as to try to take her own life now resided in their aunt and sister’s home; now safe with a family who cared.

“Liz McKenna called last night while you were at work.” Carlo said with a sigh.

“What did you tell her?” Danny said as he poured a cup of coffee. He sat down at the kitchen table.

“It wasn’t so much what I told her as what she said.”

“And?”

“She listened when I told her that Tim was going to stay at Lina’s. She hardly spoke a word after she asked about Tim except she sounded like she was crying.” Carlo paused and grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and poured some coffee before sitting down across from Danny.

“Don’t…. Oh, Please? She practically enables her husband to reject Tim….” He sighed and went to continue but Carlo held up his hand.

“No…no… It wasn’t like that at all. She wasn’t doing that histrionic thing like when we were little ….you know? The weeping for effect in Sunday school? It was like….” Carlo paused again, searching for a word. Danny stared at him; unimpressed. Liz McKenna could be almost as judgmental as her husband and twice as dramatic. He made a face, scrunching his mouth and furrowing his brows in disbelief. Carlo sighed.

“It was like… she was sorry.”

“Sorry don’t feed the bulldog.” Danny was tempted to add an expletive but shook his head instead.

“No… I… I mean she’s sorry….for Tim.”

“Yeah…sure.” Danny made the face again.

“No…I’m not kidding. She sounded different… Nothing like anything I can remember. It almost felt like talking to someone else.”

“Someone with a heart,” Danny said sarcastically, but in the middle of the words he felt something nudge him; a rude if necessary reminder. He shook his head again, but the deep sigh belied any disbelief.

“I’m sorry. It was a very long day yesterday. Go on.”

“She asked me…she didn’t tell me….she asked me if we could set up a time where she could visit Tim over at the house.”

“She asked? Wow. I don’t ever remember her asking for anything. She and Pat usually just told us…told everyone what to do.” Danny paused and his expression turned from sarcastic to concern.

“Yeah. And she said she’d be….”

“Coming alone?” Danny wasn’t a mind reader but he did have an understanding sibling relationship that worked in concert with Carlo’s heart.

“Yeah.” Carlo took a sip of coffee. Danny stood up and poured the rest of his own coffee in the sink. He went to speak; the events of the day and the thoughts and prayers of his night still in his mind. But instead he patted Carlo’s shoulder before pausing at the hall doorway.

“I’ve got some stuff I need to talk about with you. You gonna be around after lunch?”

“Sure. Today’s my day off so I’ll be hanging around here. Oh yeah….Susan called. She invited us to dinner.” Carlo looked out the kitchen door window as if to see across a few miles to Lina’s and Susan’s place. At the word ‘invited,’ Danny felt his cheeks grow warm. He turned and started walking down the hall; turning back around only after being out of sight.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you after I get some sleep.”

“You sound a lot more tired than usual. Anything I can help with?” Carlo said as he stood at the doorway; putting his hands out face up in petition.

“Maybe….I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Danny asked even as he hurried up the stairs. Carlo shook his head and smiled. He could read Danny like a book, and he liked the story; especially what he thought might be included in the next chapter.

“Later!” He called up the stairway even as the soft tread of Danny’s footsteps marked his path down the upstairs hallway and to bed.

“Later,” Carlo said before breaking out into a wide grin.

“Later.”

Early afternoon at Lina's

Lina sat on the couch listening in rapt attention at the girl next to her. Both of them wore bathrobes over pajamas after a late rising followed by several hours of soul baring.

“I feel so small.” Tim said to Lina, whose eyes stared in empathy.

“I can’t do anything right,” she said as she looked away.

“That’s your father talking.

“No…it’s true. I couldn’t even fucking kill myself.” She shook her head; her complexion had returned to a dark blush of embarrassment and shame.

“Honey? No…” the tenderness of Lina’s voice included not a bit of condemnation and instead imparted at least as big an amount of acceptance as Tim was able to receive. She sighed.

“I had everything planned. You know? I guess I can’t even hold my liquor.” She sighed again, breathing out heavily.

“I know, Tim. Honey? Please?” Lina touched Tim’s arm, causing her to flinch.

“It’s going to be okay. I know how you feel.” Tim shook her head at Lina’s words; that belief that no one on earth could ever understand.

“I don’t want to make this about me, Honey, but I know what it’s like not to want to live.” Lina patted Tim’s arm and the girl pulled away slightly once again, but she turned her face toward Lina; wanting so desperately to be accepted.

“When I was a Junior in high school I began cutting….it got worse before it got better.” Lina pulled up the sleeve to her cardigan, baring her right arm. She pointed to long, fading scars that went up her arm to just below her elbow.

“Here…” she spoke again as she used her left index finger to point to short scars that went across her wrist in thin dark pink lines. Tim’s eyes widened.

“My sister… Susan and Danny and Carlo’s mom? She found me in the bathroom and stopped the bleeding. A couple of minutes later and we wouldn’t be talking to each other right now.” Lina smiled and got up from the couch. Walking over to her fireplace she pointed to a tall, empty bottle sitting on the mantel.

“I keep this as a reminder as well.” Lina noticed the ‘Smirnoff’ label on the bottle.

“I go to meetings; once or twice a week, but almost every day after I first got help.”

“I… I can’t.” Tim cringed and turned away.

“Go to meetings? Honey, you just got home from the hospital. And really? It’s like they say, Tim. One day at a time.” Lina walked back over and sat down, pulling Tim into a soft hug. The girl went to pull away but stopped and looked into Lina’s eyes. Those eyes; welcoming without expectation and loving without condition. It was another opportunity to accept being accepted, and Lina’s expression made it impossible for Tim to decline. She gave into the tender mercies of a very kind woman and allowed herself to be loved.

“I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything right now. You’ve been stuck in ‘doing’ mode most of your life, and it’s time for being instead.” Lina tilted her head slightly as if to ask Tim if she understood. Tim nodded slowly with a half-frown.

“It’s okay, Honey. We’re all going to be here for you.”

“’We’re?’”

“Me and Susan and Noorah and of course Danny and Marco.” Lina smiled. Tim turned away as her face grew hot.

“We’re going to have dinner together; we usually do some night or another during the week, and I thought it might be helpful. But I can postpone if you’d rather it be just me and you? Susan and Noorah are over here a lot either way since Susan lives here, but Danny and Marco can come another time.” Lina looked at the girl’s face as she turned her head away.

“No…it’s okay. I’ll be okay, I guess.” The timidity in the girl’s voice seemed almost out of place. Gone was any bravado like what Susan had experienced before Tim came out to her and Noorah. In its place was a cautious façade that was closer to the real girl but even still masked who the girl actually was. That flower had been sown before the girl was born and was only now coming to the surface to bloom and grow tall.

“Why don’t we do this? Let’s plan for dinner, but if things get too much for you, just say the word. We only want to help you, okay?” Lina looked over Tim’s shoulder down the hallway; a passage way from the kitchen led into a reasonable wide and accessible escape to the safety of the upstairs bedroom.

“Okay?” Lina repeated as the girl’s gaze followed Lina’s to the hall doorway. She nodded and half-smiled.

“Well, okay, then. Why don’t you go up and take a hot shower. I’ll leave some things to wear on your bed and when I’ve cleaned up we can have a late lunch.” Lina placed her hand once again on Tim’s arm and the girl breathed out; a sigh borne more out of relief than any frustration or fear still lingering. She got up and helped Tim to her feet, drawing her close once again.

“It’s going to be okay.” She said before ushering the girl into the hallway and up the stairs. Lina watched the girl until she disappeared around a corner at the top of the stairs.

“It is going to be okay, right?” She said as she gazed upward in petition. A moment later she was walking into the kitchen. After pouring some water into the coffee maker for a fresh pot, she sat down at the table and rested her elbows on top. She cradled her face in her hands and began to cry softly; a travail of tears for the girl who reminded her that some callings are not big and public, but small and gentle and private. A smile crossed her face even as her tears dripped onto the table. It would indeed be okay.

Later that afternoon...

Tim stood in front of the dresser mirror. She had missed the clothes folded neatly on the bed and instead grabbed a colorful smock-like top and matching maroon pants from the closet. Only after staring at her reflection did she realize she had put on a scrub outfit Lina wore at work in the Pediatric ward at the hospital. She leaned close and peered ‘down’ at her reflection; as much as she could she saw her body partly obscured by the reflection of the dresser as well as obscured by the drape of the clothing.

“No…” she said in denial; not merely because of her body, but what that image meant in relationship to how she saw herself inside. She scanned the reflection; almost seeking out the smallest flaw. Her gaze stopped and focused on her breasts. They pushed the fabric of the top only a bit; small but growing ever so slightly from the use of borrowed ‘help.’ She shook her head. The bra could do nothing to enhance what wasn’t yet there, and her lack seemed to magnify what she actually owned everywhere else, so to speak.

She placed her hand to her face. Her jaw had always been weak, but in a disappointing way rather than that often longed-for look she had read about in stories. Her nose was too much like her mother’s; a nice if awkward way of identifying with the most significant woman in her life. Eye brows that could do with shaping and a complexion fraught with flaws just like her mother as well. She resembled her mother, but more as a girlish boy than a girl altogether. She bit her lip.

“Let’s see what we can do with that pretty face of yours.” Lina said as she peeked into the room as she held the door frame.

“I’m not pretty.” Tim shook her head.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lina said. She walked up to Tim and displayed a clutch-sized makeup bag. A few moments later Tim stared at herself. Nothing much had changed, but the makeup had softened her appearance while accompanied by a deft trim of her brows. She didn’t look pretty in the truest sense but she looked more like herself, as Lina likened it. A fairly plain but decidedly feminine young woman peeked back at her.

“I think you’re beautiful,” Lina said meaning every bit of it and then some.

"You look a lot like my late sister; she was a nurse like me."

Lina immediately worried that the comparison might discourage the girl. Tim had been almost a stranger to complements even as a boy growing up; Pat McKenna didn’t want his child growing up vain or self-centered. Vanity would never enter the picture, no matter what Tim did or didn’t do. But like many of us who have been neglected, our default setting on our self-image usually is self-centered. Tim had moved away from self-pity quite a bit, but movement away from shame still was almost glacier-like.

“I’m … not.” A fair assessment if taken in the context of appearance only, but Tim missed the part about the inner self, and how beautiful a human being stood opposite her in the mirror.

“Well, I read somewhere that we’re all wonderfully made, so there!” She kissed the girl on the cheek and stepped back.

“Are we still okay for company?”

“I…I don’t know.” The hesitancy in her voice was mixed with an odd half-smile; the need to be with friends and family seemed to push her embarrassment aside as she found herself nodding yes. The idea of family was almost foreign to her; having experienced the life of a pastor’s child where everyone else mattered more than his own wife or child. And having to be just what was expected of a pastor’s son when all along she had been a daughter if her father had bothered to look.

“Why didn’t Tim try out for football. I know he’s not a big kid, but he's fairly tall. I’ll bet he could be a great receiver.”

“You know you only indulge him if you let him cry like that.” What boy wouldn’t cry over the death of his dog? Which boy would be stoic at the passing of his favorite aunt?

“Yes, I know. But that’s just another temptation to overcome. It’s not uncommon for boys to wonder about other boys, but that doesn’t make it right, Tim. You just need to give that to God.”

“Well, Danny and Carlo are picking up dinner at Pho Minh’s over in Linden. Will it be fine Vietnamese cuisine here with everyone or Hamburger Helper here with you and me?” Lina laughed softly. Tim looked at her and half-frowned; an expression of reluctant surrender rather than any disagreement she could imagine. Lina smiled and spoke.

“Good. Their food is superb and the company will be superb as well.” She patted Tim on the back and retreated. She stopped at the door.

“Dinner is going to be around six or so; I’m going to run out to Krauzer’s for some milk. Noorah and Susan are downstairs so just come down when you feel ready.” She waved and Tim nodded slowly.

She looked back at her reflection once again; not anything like what she remembered. Only a few days ago virtually no one had ever ‘seen’ Tim as anything but a boy. Her father saw a son in whom he could invest as the heir and successor to his pastorate. Her mother saw only a weak boy who practically mirrored her personality; gruff and dismissive to everyone but dying a little inside every day from self-hatred.

Others save for a precious few knew her as a one-time bully; bravado that covered over a child who wanted to be kind and lovable instead. And she knew herself for so long as the awkward boy who couldn’t say no to the demands of a very strict father and a boy who felt shame and guilt for the attraction he held for another. Nothing so simple or transformative as the stories she read when no one was around. A fairly plain boy that was really a decidedly plain girl; someone to help along a dully-lit existence with marginal acceptance and never someone to hold and love and cherish. She folded her arms in a self-hug; trying to appreciate in herself things she feared would never be appreciated by another human being.

“No,” she said sadly as she released the self-embrace. She walked over to the door and closed it. Shaking her head, she went over to the bed and fell into it as she wept.

A while later

Lina walked in from the kitchen door and placed two bags on the table. Susan came in from the living room.

“Has she come down yet?” Lina said as she looked at the stairs.

“No…It’s been pretty quiet,” Susan shook her head and continued.

“We figured we’d give her some space. The boys were running late anyway. You want me to go get her?”

“No, honey. I think I’ll go up and talk with her, okay?” Lina took a deep breath and walked upstairs. As she walked down the hall, she heard voices coming from Tim’s room. She knocked on the door softly.

“Tim? Can I come in?” She heard nothing other than the voices. She pushed open the door and walked into the darkened bedroom; the only light the dim glow of the time display of the clock radio. She walked over to the bed and noted the loud broadcast of some local sports show. Leaning down, she clicked off the radio and turned to the figure lying in the dark face down on the bed.

“Tim? Honey? Did you want to come down for dinner?” Lina turned on the bedside lamp. She reached down and put her hand on Tim’s shoulder, still a bit wary after the past day’s events. The girl stirred a bit and then turned over. The soft light of the lamp revealed that Tim’s face was red and tear streaked. What little makeup the girls had helped her with earlier in the day had been hastily wiped off, and her hair was combed back.

“Tim? Are you all right?” Lina saw that the girl was at least ‘intact’ in a way, but something seemed wrong. She then noticed that the brightly colored nursing tunic Tim had worn was lying at the foot of the bed along with the girl’s bra. Tim went to sit up and Lina offered her hand. The girl seemed to be oblivious to the help and rose to sit on her own.

“Honey? Is there something wrong?” Tim shook her head and swung her feet off the bed. Lina shuddered in frustration as she realized what had taken place while she had been out. The girl still wore the scrub pants from before but had changed into a nondescript teen shirt.

“I’m….I’m not hungry,” Tim practically snapped at Lina. She went to stand and Lina offered her hand only to be ignored once again. The girl seemed to have retreated somehow and the boy had returned, if only to assert some sort of defense against the confusion and hurt of the past day. Tim stood up and walked into the bathroom and closed the door. A few moments later a figure stood at the bathroom doorway; back lit by the mirror light.

“I….I’m sorry.” The boy seemed unsure even as the words came out. Lina stepped closer and Tim held out a hand in caution but pulled it back along with a head shake. The tears started to fall even as the boy retreated once more, leaving Tim almost alone in herself as the girl had yet to reemerge.

“What are you sorry for, honey?” Lina asked the question softly; an invitation rather than a demand to ease the way. The apology was likely for a myriad of things unspoken from every bit of the girl’s past all the way up to that moment, but a thing or two seemed to be driving the girl’s apology.

“I’m not…I don’t know who I am.” The voice seemed to echo the boy’s tone, but the demeanor was all girl. She put her hand to her face.

“It’s okay, honey. We’ll figure it out together, okay?” Lina spoke even as she crossed the rest of the distance between her and Tim, drawing the girl into a welcoming hug. The girl offered no resistance and accepted the safety of the embrace.

“I’m not a boy….why can’t they understand?” She said haltingly between sobs. Lina patted Tim on the back and looked off; seeking a vision of the church that stood miles away but lurked in a sense just outside the girl’s heart.

“I don’t know, honey. I’m so sorry,” Lina said as she stroked the Tim’s hair. After a few moments the girl’s sobs had grown softer. Lina stepped back a bit and brushed the girl’s tears with her hand.

“Why don’t we just take it a bit at a time, okay? We have all the time you need.”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry….” The words came softly as the girl buried her face in Lina’s chest and began to sob once again, softly without much energy; almost in resignation at the girl’s own existence as much as anything she might have done or failed to do. In the quiet of the soft crying Lina heard a soft knock at the doorway. She turned to find Susan standing in the hallway.

“We’re all going to go over to the boy’s place. I’ll be back later after Noorah goes home, okay?” Susan whispered and half-smiled. Lina beckoned her niece to draw closer; letting her know her presence was welcome. Susan walked over and stood next to the two; placing her hand on Tim’s shoulder. The girl turned to find Susan smiling through the beginnings of her own tears.

“I know….shhhhhh…..it’s going to be okay,” Susan said as she drew Tim into a hug. The girl nodded slightly; her look one of tearful hope rather than resignation. Susan kissed her on the cheek and said once again,

“I know, honey. I’ll be back in a while, okay?” Tim nodded slowly and bit her lip, swallowing before smiling. Susan squeezed her hand softly before walking out. Tim turned to Lina and shook her head; another apologetic gesture as she looked down at herself. The words already spoken were sufficient for the moment and Lina nodded; not in agreement at the apology but understanding why the girl would feel so sorry about merely wanting to be whom she was.

No need to talk, Lina pulled the girl into hug once again; the girl needed only one thing for the moment as she began to sob once again. Lina patted the girl softly on the back and echoed most of what Susan had said.

“Shhhhh..shhhhh…It’s going to be okay.”

Elsewhere...

Liz McKenna sat at the dining room table. A photo album lay open in front of her. She took a sip of tea from a Cinderella mug; likely the only bit of whimsy present in the McKenna home. She stared at one photo in particular and breathed out a sigh. A picture of Tim at five years old, The boy held up a hand-made card; the brightly colored picture featured “Happy Birthday Daddy” in purple crayon. Liz turned her gaze to the mug in her hand and shook her head at the irony of picture; the young lady practically a stranger in her own home.

“I’ve got to run out to the hospital, okay?” Pat said as he hurried into the kitchen

“Joe Ewing’s daughter was in a car accident and they asked me to stop by.” Without a word, Liz avoided facing him. She watched as he rushed out the back door; angry at his care for everyone’s family but his own. She stared at the door and spoke.

“You haven’t even asked about your son…. Our son….”

She looked at the picture; the card had been practically ignored for nearly a week as Pat’s pastoral duties caused him to miss the birthday surprise Tim and Liz had prepared; one of many disappointments they both endured. But it went further than that when he had remarked almost dismissively that a Cinderella coffee mug was just for girls. Liz shook her head; not at Pat’s insensitive remark in a history of insensitivity. And not even for going along as Tim’s soul had been crushed by Pat’s dogmatic insistence.

She was angry that she was guiltier than her husband, since his actions were driven by foolish pride and ignorant complacency, while Liz, on the other hand, had suspected things were different for Tim. His almost dissociative expression of the young angry man that mirrored his father was so far from the sweet child Liz had practically raised on her own. The kindness and care that Tim almost by nature exuded was suppressed; not merely by the ignorance of the father but by the sad acquiescence of the mother. A mother who had known almost from the start that she had birthed a daughter and not a son.

“I’m so sorry….” Liz spoke to the photo. She stopped in mid-sentence, recalling with sadness and shame that her child never heard the name Liz held in her heart for nearly twenty years. She bit her lip as tears spilled off her face. She had every right to be angry with herself over her failure to protect and nurture her child and could only hope that her child…her daughter would forgive her.

“I’m so sorry….”

Back at Lina's place, later that evening...

Susan sat on the couch; her legs curled under her and her head tilted a bit forward in attention. Tim sat next to her; head against the back of the couch with arms folded in a self-hug. Lina sat in a dining room chair facing Tim; the coffee table had been set aside and Lina’s legs practically touched Tim’s as she spoke softly.

“I’m here and so is Susan. We’re here for you, honey.” Lina turned her head in a sideways glance toward Susan. The young woman shrugged her shoulders but smiled as if to say, ’I’ll give it a try.’

“You can stay here as long as you like. And don’t worry about anything. What we have is yours.” She raised her eyebrows in question and Tim nodded, but quickly turned away. Lina took a chance and placed her hand on the girl’s knee.

“I know we can’t take the place of anyone, honey. I’m sorry for that. But we’ll be as best a family as we can be for you. Susan and me and Noorah and Carlo and Danny; we can all be here for you. At the mention of each name, it seemed that Tim’s reserve seemed to lessen, but she winced when Lina mentioned Danny’s name. Lina turned to Susan only to receive yet another shrug.

“You’re welcome here.” Tim shook her head and spoke. The boy in her peeked out a bit; oddly reticent to talk unlike the persona the girl had projected to everyone for so long.

“I….I can’t….it isn’t right.”

“What isn’t right, honey?” Susan touched the girl’s arm; evoking a wince. Tim looked away from both and spoke.

“I ….I don’t deserve…. I was so….I’m such a…..” Her voice trailed off to a barely perceptible whisper, but the last few words echoed what she had been saying about herself; not only to them in the past several hours but likely what she told herself every day of her recent life. Lina shook her head and reached over; touching the girl’s cheek with a near caress.

“No, honey…. You’re not….you’re ….” She paused, searching for the right words. As odd as it might have sounded, she spoke something that duplicated the words the girl had heard from her father to everyone else but his own child.

“You’re fearfully and wonderfully made….no matter what anyone has ever told you. You’re just as important as anyone else.” Another oddity; the boy had projected a persona that insisted he was better than everyone else because the whole person had never felt as good as anyone else, and certainly never good enough for her father.

“No….I’m worthless….I’m a sinner.”

“We all are, Tim….everyone of us does things and says things or fails to do and say what we should….we’re all flawed and all wonderful at the same time.” Susan said, surprising herself. She had received the same harsh message from her own father for years. And despite their reconciliation before her father’s death, she still struggled with feelings of self-worth. That balance of being neither worse or better than anyone else. She smiled at Lina who nodded with a return smile; an encouraging expression that helped Susan know she was exactly on the right track. Tim’s demeanor seemed to soften and she turned to Susan.

“I was so ….. you didn’t deserve..”

“No I didn’t, but I already forgave you….” She measured her next words carefully; that desire not to go too far or wide of her intent.

“Before I knew you were who you are, right? I didn’t forgive you just because you asked, Tim. I forgave you because you asked without any expectation. You didn’t demand or expect, but you were truly sorry, and that’s before I knew that you weren’t that boy….at least not just the boy I knew, but the person inside you had always wanted to show everyone.” Tim’s eyes widened in surprise.

“There aren’t any conditions to being my friend, Tim… We knew each other before all of this started coming out…for both of us.”

“I’m so sorry…..”

“I know you are….but we need to set that aside now…..we are who we are, for better or worse, and we have folks who love us…..I love you, Tim…. We love you….” Susan paused and used her gaze to indicate Lina.

“Now it’s time to love yourself, okay?”

“Really?”

Tim’s voice seemed to echo a time when she was little; the little girl who never saw the light of day only to grow up as a confused boy who really had been a daughter instead of a son. It truly was almost too good to be true. She put her hand to her face; that gesture that says I can’t believe this; it will all go away when I remove my hand. She wiped the tears that remained and looked back and forth between Susan and Lina in near disbelief. Years of unrealistic and even harmful expectations fell away like a false wall; revealing the beautiful art hidden beneath.

“Really…..” Lina and Susan voiced almost at the same time.

“Wh….what do I do next….where….what….” Tim stammered. Lina touched her knee again and smiled.

“Shhhh…..one day at a time.” It was almost a trite saying borne of years of recovery, but Lina’s words were entirely true for her and would hopefully be for Tim as well.

“I…..I think I need to do something….” Tim spoke tentatively, as if her timetable required some sort of permission from her friends. Lina nodded and spoke.

“Whatever you think is best, honey.” At the word ‘honey’ Tim nodded; as much as in disagreement as not in an odd way. She bit her lip, seeking the words to describe how she felt.

“I….I like….it’s….the word honey?” She began to cry softly. Lina shook her head slightly at Susan, wondering what the girl meant.

“I’m sorry, Tim… If that makes you uncomfortable? I just wanted you to know I care.”

“I….I know you care….I’m sorry.” She apologized.

“Oh, honey….Tim? You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay….” Susan spoke for them both.

“I…..I know…. It’s just….my name…..”

“Yes?” Lina’s tone was inviting; giving the girl a permission of sorts.

Susan tried not to be too excited. The girl’s name was important in a way that went beyond just not fitting the person she was becoming but also the person she had always been. Timothy fit for the time even if it had become awkward and perhaps even a burden, but it had meaning to the girl at the very start. Both Susan and Lina nodded as the girl continued.

“I…. I want to change my name….” Her hand went to her face; needless embarrassment that was short-circuited immediately by Lina’s touch to the girl’s face.

“Yes…..?” Nothing else but an affirming word and a soft touch gave the girl the permission she needlessly but understandably sought as she spoke.

“My name is Hope.”

At the home of the Albanese boys, a few weeks later.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Carlo said, responding the odd, almost distracted grin on Danny’s face. He placed a pair of Mickey Mouse mugs on the table along with two bagels; toasted with cream cheese and slices of Swiss cheese. Danny continued grinning but without comment.

“You know…. You’re not fooling anyone, and you certainly aren’t hiding anything from me…. We were bunkies for a long time, bro.” Carlo laughed and grabbed a bagel from the plate, handing it to Danny.

“Here, big brother. Gotta keep your strength up if you’re gonna fight the dragons….” He shook his head and looked off as if he could see Danny’s hospital from the kitchen. Danny shook his head and grabbed the bagel. Cutting it in half, he began eating; again without comment.

“I heard Pat dropped by yesterday…. You know…the little bird we like to call Aunt Lina….she said that he’s throwing his weight around. “ At the mention of LIna, Danny put the bagel on the small plate in front of him and glared off out the window, following Carlo’s gaze out the window.

“If he….son of a bitch….” Danny went to stand up but Carlo cautioned him with an outstretched hand.

“She said she told him where to get off….You know her; she wouldn’t say a bad word against him… But she wasn’t about to back down, and she’s fine. She’s more worried about you, you know?”

“I can take care of myself.” Danny snapped, but his demeanor softened.

“I’m not worried, because at this point, I care more about….”

“Yeah….me too, but I’m not risking my job over it…It’s easy for me to say. You gonna be okay?” Carlo reached over and touched his brother’s wrist. Danny pulled back slightly but relented.

“I’ve felt so mixed up for so long, Car….almost like Susan….you know?”

“Like you didn’t fit in? But it’s all different now…we’re big boys, Dan…all grown up and maybe seeing things the way they are for the first time? Are you ashamed?”

“Oh, no….just coming out of fog…..I realized yesterday that I felt this way long before I knew…before any of us knew….”

“I think I can see Pat’s perspective on this.” Carlo practically ducked, waiting for a rebuke.

“Yeah…. He thought he had a son and I thought I loved him….” Danny laughed but Carlo shook his head in confusion.

“You mean you don’t love…..you know….”

Words and names and pronouns may linger long after their usefulness has been spent. He wasn’t embarrassed so much as fearful that he’d say the wrong thing. The last thing Carlo wanted to do was to discourage his brother. Danny smiled and nodded, almost finishing Carlo’s sentence with his expression, but he returned Carlo’s gesture and patted him on the wrist.

“I do love her. I can’t explain why things are the way they are in my head…. I just know that I’ve loved her for a long time; maybe since forever? We used to hang around the church playground on Saturday when we were all little, and there was just something about Tim…Hope. Oh hell, you know what I mean.” His face reddened; not so much from embarrassment but from the continued mash together of confusion and growing understanding.

“We…you remember what Mommy used to say about Dad….?” Carlo nodded.

“Yeah…she knew he was the one when they sat together In Earth Science class when they were in the seventh grade.”

“Well, I think I’ve loved Tim…oh hell.” He shook his head and his face reddened. Carlo knew exactly what he meant.

“Listen, Danny…it’s not like she’s had the name forever. We only found out about it a couple of weeks ago…. It’s brand new to us.”

“Oh hell….dammit I should know the name of the girl I’ve fallen in love with. Fuck….”

“Listen, Danny,” Carlo repeated, wanting to encourage his brother. He held Danny’s hand.

“The thing here isn’t so much what her name is, but the ‘why’ of her name. For the first time since we were all ….no…for the first time, period, the girl is who she is. No hiding….no stupid angry stuff to deal with every day…. At least with everyone who cares. The thing now is to tell her how you care.” Carlo paused and took stock of his own words.

“Of course it’s easy for me to say…. I’m still trying to figure out how to love myself, much less another sentient being, you know? I still have a crush on Hermione Granger, and she’s just a character in a book. You love a real girl, Dan…. That’s a good thing, no matter what you remember to call her or anything else.”

“I guess….” Danny put his head down; the years-old tendency for the Albanese kids to doubt and question themselves. Their father might have come around finally before the end, but even the boys joined their sister Susan in picking up the psychic pieces. Carlo smiled.

“I know you love her….and you know, too! And you know who you love….no doubts or questions other than how to get around to calling her by her new name, right?” Carlo patted him on the wrist.

“Right…Hope….such an important name for ….”

“Such an important girl.” Carlo replied.

“I just hope I can help her realize that….Damn, Carlo this fucking hurts.”

“Baring yourself is like lying on that table of yours, but instead of an X-ray or a Cat-Scan, it’s a picture of who you are inside. You’re letting yourself be as vulnerable as she is, and that’s….it’s gonna hurt because you’re laid bare for everyone…not just her…but for everyone to see. And that means taking a chance that you’ll get hurt. But you remember what Mommy used to say…from L’Engle?” Danny nodded and repeated,

“’When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable.’ I suppose I’m as alive as I’ll ever be….”

“But it also means feeling the good things. The stuff that folks like Pat McKenna will never understand… to be a part of something great that is happening with Hope and maybe for a long, long time. Remember what Mommy used to say about love?” Danny nodded again.

“Nothing ventured….nothing gained….but what gains!!!”

He laughed even as his eyes welled with tears. He would always love his father and had regained a respect for him for the change his father had sought at the end of his life. But if anyone asked him, he would say that his mother was likely the real theologian in the home, since the words she valued came from the One she valued…. That she knew the ‘theo’ behind the theology and that mean that she loved and cherished and hoped and held close to her heart all the good things life not only offered but gave to her to dispense freely.

“Well, nothing ventured….I guess no matter what happens, it’s time to do a little venturing, yes?” Carlo laughed even as his gaze went out the window down the street and to the hospital miles away. Danny nodded once again and spoke with nervous laugh; his gaze mirroring his brother.

“Run for cover….”

The office of Cal Ferguson, CEO of the hospital...

“I don’t know, Pat….I’m ….” Cal Ferguson shook his head. Pat McKenna raised his eyebrows a bit and shook his head.

“He was obviously rude and disrespectful, and he shoved me out of the way. Is that someone you want working here?” Pat didn’t lie; he was convinced that Danny had been rude and physical while forgetting that he had tried to push past Danny to get at Tim.”

“Really? It’s been a while, Pat…. Maybe you should let it go.”

“No, Cal…I’m serious. You do what you feel is necessary, but I’m very disappointed in how he was allowed to be so rude. And that woman…. I didn’t feel she showed me the respect I’m due as a chaplain at this hospital,” Pat said; completely missing the thing that his faith encouraged everyone else to do . Pat might be a very good representation at the point of being a Christian (with a small ‘c’) but he was hardly being Christ-like right then and there. Cal nodded in reluctant acknowledgement. It would go exactly like Pat expected, which would be entirely the one thing Pat needed, even if it meant a wee bit of pain in the process.

The office of Marie Chang...a few days later....

“I… I don’t know what to say…” Hope put her head down and covered her face.” Marie Chang sat across from the girl; a relaxed posture and a broadening smile on her face.

“It’s how things work sometimes…. I’m very glad to tag along on your journey, Hope. It’s a good thing that I can do, and I’m happy to help.”

“But I don’t know when I’ll…. I don’t even have a job…”

“I know. Time enough for that. Okay?” Hope lifted her head and nodded slightly.

“Now tell me, how are you today….”

Danny and Carlo's home...a few days later...

“Danny? Carlo?” Lina called from the front door. A moment later Carlo walked out of the kitchen and frowned.

“You heard?” He shook his head and looked into the living room. Danny was sitting on the couch; remarkably calm for someone who had just lost his job. LIna walked over and sat down on the couch next to him and drew him into a consoling hug. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

“I got a note on my locker to see HR. They said that I’m skating on thin ice and that I’m letting my personal feelings get in the way of my job. Then they told me that…. I don’t care if I am family; it really wasn’t up to them to tell me they fired you.” Lina bit her lip as her face grew red. Danny touched her arm.

“Nothing they did today makes any sense. Unless you factor in who’s in the middle of it. He did say he had friends….” Danny laughed, remembering an old song about having friends in lowly places; a position he felt glad to occupy even if it left him with little influence at the moment.

“They told me they would write a letter of recommendation…that there weren’t any ‘hard’ feelings. I felt sooooo comforted by that,” he said with a wry laugh.

“Where will you go,” Susan said as she sat down in her mother’s old rocking chair. Carlo joined them; sitting on the brick hearth catty-corner to the couch.

“I’ve got a friend who works at HSS in the city. It’s a pain in the ass commute but they pay better and there’s always the daily sideshows on the subway. I’ll be okay. I’m just pissed off that they dragged Lina into this mess. It was my choice to tell off the bastard, and anything else is just plain mean and vindictive. Fuck….” Lina shook her head slightly at the profanity; that head shake that oddly demonstrates a reluctant agreement instead of denial.

“Thank heaven for small favors,” Susan said. Carlo and Danny both at the same time and stared at their sister. She looked back and forth between them and Lina. Her aunt put her hand to her mouth and gasped.

“What?” Susan asked; her head tilted sideways as her remark and her posture earned her another gasp; this time from Carlo. Danny laughed softly and pointed to the rocking chair…her mother’s chair.

“Mommy used to say that all the time. You’re… “ Carlo said haltingly.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Susan put her head down even as Lina stood up; practically tripping over the coffee table as she hurried to Susan’s side. She knelt down and grabbed the girl’s hands in her own.

“Oh honey….don’t be sorry. It’s just that….” Lina’s voice cracked and she stifled a sob. Susan’s eyes widened in question and even shame; needless and sad in a way as Carlo finished Lina’s sentence.

“You’re your mother’s daughter….” He laughed softly.

Lina and Susan's home...later that evening...

“Hope? Are you okay?” Susan said as she knocked softly on the girl’s bedroom door. A few seconds later the girl appeared at the doorway. While she didn’t look happy, gone were the usual tears and sad expression.

“I….” She lowered her gaze.

“What…what happened.” Susan said, her hand reaching out to hold Hope’s.

“My…My mom called while you were gone….she wants to…” The words seemed almost slow and robotic but for the growing smile on Hope’s face.

“She couldn’t stop crying….she says she’s sorry….” Her face grew hot with embarrassment; as if it was wrong to hope for more. Nothing would ever diminish her mother’s remorse, but there was a halting pause in her voice.

“He still doesn’t want to see you? I’m so sorry….” Susan’s expression mirrored Hope’s for just a moment; lagging behind as the girl’s face revealed a widening smile.

“I…I guess it will be okay…. “She paused and her smile grew surprisingly, as she looked up a bit, higher and past Susan as she reached for words. She settled and finished.

“I knew I needed a name and I remembered something my Mom told me when I was little. She and Dad had tried to have kids for so long. They lost three before me….” The smile began to wane only a bit at the sad memory until she spoke again.

“She said when I came along it showed her….” Her eyes began to water, but for the first time in perhaps a lifetime, the tears were joyful as she spoke at last.

“She said that love always hopes…. I guess that’s what I’ve got to do with my Dad.” She lowered her head just a bit and turned away, as if her words were somehow misplaced. Susan touched her face softly and drew her chin around.

“That’s what we’ll all do. That’s exactly what we’ll do, honey. We’ll all love him back and hope.”

The McKenna home…that evening…

“I….I called Hope today.” Liz put her mug in the sink and turned to face Pat. He looked up from his Bible and tilted his head in confusion for only a moment until a look of growing disdainful recognition crossed his face.

“You…you’re just indulging him,” he said with a head shake, not bothering to lift his head to face his wife. She sat down without a word. After a few minutes she spoke again; timidly as she turned away.

“I’m going to Lina’s house to see our child.” She practically winced in expectation of his reaction. He lifted his head and half-smiled; an arrogance that seemed to come to the surface more and more.

“No you’re not, Elizabeth,” he said calmly as if he was correcting a child.

“You’ll call our son up and explain that as long as he persists in defying God he will have no one in the family to turn to. He’s going to have to fare without your enabling.” He lowered his head and returned his attention to the Bible on the kitchen table. Liz took a breath went to speak but Pat held up his hand in caution.

“You will tell him that he is welcome home as soon as he abandons this foolishness. I’ve taken steps to make sure things will not go as smoothly as he and his friends would like.

“What did you do?” Liz leaned closer. Pat didn’t bother to raise his head.

“I’ve made arrangements to see he doesn’t have support. Jerry Albanese, God bless his soul, did such a horrible job of raising his children.”

“Pat….what did you do?”

“Daniel no longer works at the hospital and Lina Di Pasquale is skating on thin ice.”

“Pat? What? How…. What did you do? You had no right…. They never did anything to you… Pat?” Liz shook her head as Pat lifted his head and half-smiled again.

“I have every right when it comes to my son.” He hadn’t meant to say it in that way, but nevertheless there it was.

“You had him fired? How could you do that?” Liz had no doubt about the how in regard to the manner of his actions. He knew exactly what she meant.

“I’m not going to allow a family of perverts to ruin my son’s life.” He didn’t stress the word ‘my’ this time, but it was unmistakable nonetheless that his child had become one more thing to maintain. His church, his board of directors, his son. Liz bit her lip as tears began to well in her eyes.

“You had no right….”

“I have every right, Liz.”

He said it calmly; this time the rebuke had drifted away from the patronizing and flowed directly into dismissive; her name sounding more like a rebuke. Whatever tenderness and love that had existed between the two died in that brief moment. Whatever future they had together would only be restored in resurrection. if at all, as the control Pat wielded began the slow, inexorable process of burying the love he once held for his wife and his child. Liz stood up and balled her fists; a posture that had become increasingly ineffective if more frequent. Tears flowed all too freely in grief and hopeless disappointment.

“Someone had to do something,” he said calmly, as if by ‘doing’ he had somehow fixed everything all by himself. Liz turned away, getting his meaning and agreeing in much of what he said. Guilt hit her hard as she realized someone indeed needed to do something, but not at all in the manner in which the doing played out. She put her hand to her face in shame.

“Oh…dear God…what have I done?” She turned and ran out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom. Closing the door behind her she walked over and leaned against her dresser; lightheaded. She looked up and viewed her image in the large mirror.

“What did you do?” She said to herself. Not so much what she did as what she failed to do. The man she had married had become a bully to everyone, and somehow she had a part in that tragic transformation. If Jerry Albanese had been a bad parent, and there was every doubt in her heart that he had; then what kind of mother and wife had she been? Truth be told, as much as she had enabled Pat to become more and more controlling in their relationship, everyone who surrounded him had equally participated in enabling him to be inflexible and unyielding.

But the worst part of it was that she indeed had been a bad mother in a way in that she had known for a very long time that her son…her child…was different. Sincere efforts to please some nebulous expectation about being true to the faith she held had been twisted almost beyond recognition. Her need to please her husband’s expectations allowed her child’s needs to be ignored and even condemned. She had known for all too long that she was raising a sweet and innocent daughter to be an inflexible and angry young man just like her father. And only the grace of God and the efforts of her daughter’s friends undid the damage she had allowed to hurt her only child.

“No more…” She said weakly. She wanted to run back down the hall and scream at Pat. But the first person she needed to confront looked back at her in the mirror. There was no strength at that moment to change, but it would come, and not too soon. She walked over to the bed and lay down. It’s been said that we fail when we look into a mirror and then after turning away forget what we have seen. Liz would never forget what she had seen in herself.

At that moment, the vestiges of selfishness pulled her into a crying jag that over mere minutes changed into shame and then guilt and then self-awareness and forgiveness and then resolve as Elizabeth McKenna decided to change. And that decision would prove to be transformative for everyone and everything she held dear.

Nomhagen Park, the next afternoon…

Susan and Hope sat on a bench overlooking the pond. A few ducks had wandered over and Hope was throwing pieces of bread across the sidewalk toward the edge of the water. The ducks congregated around the bread; quacking loudly as they jockeyed for position.

“It’s okay, Hope…really.” Susan put her hand on Hope’s shoulder and the girl winced.

“No, it’s not. I need to say this, okay?” Susan nodded almost reluctantly.

“It doesn’t matter what I was going through. I treated you so horribly.”

“You weren’t that person, Hope….we all understand that.”

“But I was that person. I was so….it didn’t’ matter. I couldn’t accept how my Dad was treating me, but instead of just taking it or not, I passed it along. It was so selfish of me.”

“But I forgave you.” Susan protested. Hope shook her head.

“You forgave me…but….”

“But you haven’t forgiven yourself….” It was a statement more than a question. Hope nodded nonetheless.

“Look at me. I’m …. I’m not going to win any contests for anything. I’ll never be pretty, but I’m…I’m stuck. I should just give up.” Her words seemed to shove aside her new-found faith in herself.

“You feel like…..” Susan paused for a moment, wondering what to say next. She didn’t want their time to be about her, but Hope needed to see she wasn’t alone in her past as well as her present.

“When my Dad pushed me away, it felt like I had to try to please him, but I was so pulled apart when what he wanted wasn’t what I truly…. What I desperately needed. You just talked to your mother and you’re not even sure yet if she will accept you…. Because….” Susan paused. Hope frowned sadly in resignation.

“She takes her lead from your Dad, and that still leaves you wondering if you’ll ever be loved….right?” Susan put her hand on Hope’s cheek, feeling the girl’s tears.

“Y….yes….” Hope gasped.

“And you’re angry with yourself because you feel like you should be able to get past this….that you have to be stronger for yourself?” Susan played with a ringlet by Hope’s ear; a motherly gesture almost. Hope nodded weakly.

“But if you stick up for yourself, you lose everything, right?”

“I’ll never be happy, Sue… I don’t deserve to be happy.” She put her head down and began to sob. Susan pulled her close and Hope cried into Susan’s shoulder.

“We don’t deserve a lot of things in our lives, honey, but being at least able to try to be happy…you deserve that…. Shhhh shhhhh….” Susan found herself humming an old song….it came to her that she was being more than a friend, but instead giving Hope that part of herself that everyone needs; a family.

“Shhhh…shhhh….we’ll get through this, Hope… I promise….” Susan took a deep breath and looked skyward in petition; a calm assurance came over her that no matter what transpired it would indeed be okay.

Danny and Carlo’s home….a few days later …

“When do you start?” Carlo asked as he sat down. He pushed a plate of eggs and sausage in front of Danny and turned his attention to his own breakfast. Danny took a few bites and washed it down with some coffee before speaking.

“First of next month with orientation, but I’m not sure yet. I might try to get a job with a local imaging place instead. HSS is a great job, but the commute is gonna be a bear…..” His voice trailed off.

“Nah…..you just want to be around….” Carlo laughed. He looked out the kitchen door windows as if he could see across town. Danny’s gaze followed his brothers and he laughed in return.

“You got me… I confess. I’m not giving up on my old job and I certainly want to hang around town. I’m afraid, you know?” Danny was almost fearless regarding his own life, but he had become very anxious over the treatment he and Lina had received; mostly for her sake.

“Lina says she’s not worried…you know how her faith works.”

“Yeah….I believe with her in theory, but dealing with Pat McKenna tests my own belief system. I’d like to think that I’m able to forgive, but he sorta lurks around our lives like he’s ….”

“Like he’s God….” Carlo shook his head and continued.

“He has so much friggin’ influence. I think years of having his own way… I don’t get it, but I’m not gonna worry about it. All I can do is support you and her and Susan and everybody else in this stupid melodrama.”

“Yeah…everybody else…” Danny said absentmindedly as he sipped his coffee.

“You mind if I ask you a personal question?” Odd coming from Danny’s best friend as well as his brother, but Carlo wasn’t about to assume anything. Danny at least deserved that much consideration.

“Yeah?”

“This thing with Tim….sorry…with Hope? How do you put that …. You know…. She’s been around this family for a long time. And it wasn’t very pretty at times. You know….”

“Like when Tim rejected Susan?”

“Well, yeah….that…” Danny tilted his head slightly at Carlo’s answer; a ‘yeah, but’ seemed to be whispering in the comment.

“You mean what do I think of her …..since I knew him?” Carlo nodded and Danny continued.

“It’s more than just strange, but Susan reminded me how much hiding Tim had to do to keep outta harm’s way. She says that it went beyond just words.” Carlo’s eyes widened.

“Pat hit him…her…you know what I mean.”

“Yeah…. Tim never said a word….just toed the line and acted like the good preacher’s son he was supposed to be…fuck….”

“What? I’m not following you….”

“I thought Sue had it hard…she did…especially when Dad didn’t even bother to keep in contact with her. But with Tim…Hope…you know…. I remember Grandma telling us about how the teacher would hit her left hand hard with a steel ruler… to keep her from writing with it. Hope was getting beaten just…oh fuck.”

“You’re really throwing yourself into this…. You really do care.” Danny was always a caring person, but this was way different than anything Carlo had ever seen in his brother.

“I….you know that me and Tim were really close…. He was between me and Susan age wise…. Like another brother, but….”

“You mean when you and he….” Carlo started to blush. It was hard to talk about things like that to begin with. He and Danny had started to move away from stoic into free expression; even as emotional as both of them could be, talking about it wasn’t something that was second-nature. Having a sister who went through hell herself seemed to have been the catalyst for their own change. But Danny’s words went beyond mere expression. Carlo smiled nervously in a moment of awkward silence.

“I never told anyone….not you, not even Susan. I….I loved Tim. For all the bravado and shit, he was….. she….”

“I don’t quite get it, but I think…. You’ve always had that connection?”

“Yeah…. And now that she’s Hope…it’s like it’s all coming together. Making sense.”

“Were you afraid you…. You know? “ Carlo put his head down; almost ashamed to ask his brother something so difficult.

“Well…. It wasn’t like that. I never questioned the why…just the confusion of the ‘how,’ you know?” Danny waited for Carlo to raise his head.

“It really hasn’t changed? Am I following you?”

“Yeah…sort of. I was praying last night and I realized if Tim had never come out as Hope, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. You know…the person underneath.”

“But she did come out, bro. She’s not the same….at least not completely.”

“Yeah, Carlo, but then neither am I. We’re all different. The boy who couldn’t tell anyone about the major crush he had on his best friend…..I’ve grown up…. A little, you know? “ Carlo nodded.

“She’s just as important….more important to me now than ever….” Danny’s voice trailed off and Carlo finished Danny’s thought.

“Because it’s all about her and …. Not about you…leastways not just about you. You care for her….really care…. The big C…. not just as a friend….” Carlo started to blush again, as much for Danny as for himself, but he continued.

“Go ahead and say it, Danny….you remember what the word confession means?” Having a minister for a father brought other things in the boy’s lives along with the football and skateboards and such. Danny nodded.

“Yeah…to say the same thing…. Like if I speak it, it becomes real….Damn….” Danny’s eyes began to fill with tears; confusion and doubt slamming headlong into faith and care and consideration and deep-down character. If he spoke the words, there would be no turning back, but there seemed to be an urgency in making a confession; even if it was only to his brother.

“Go ahead, Dan…. “ Carlo smiled; a brotherly gesture of support as well as a real desire to see Danny realize the one dream of his life, even if he had never voiced it.

“Okay?” Carlo asked as if he was seeking approval over answering a question on a test. It was in a way, since Danny’s confession would change things for everyone. Danny smiled and wiped his face. He laughed softly and spoke.

“Okay… you talked me into it…..the confession…. Not …”

“I know….you don’t need any persuasion…you just need to say what you ……Danny? Do you really?”

“Yeah, Carlo… I do. I love Hope McKenna.”

At Marie Chang’s office, several days later….

“Really, Hope, you don’t have to worry. We can work something out if you get a job, but right now the important thing is to see things how they are. You’re so used to being and doing for everyone else…” Marie’s voice trailed off and she bit the inside of her mouth in thought. She paused before leaning forward.

“I’m sorry… let’s back that up a bit. You were saying?”

“I’ve been so selfish for so long,” she sighed. The sound of her voice made her shudder in embarrassment.

“Have you?” Marie of course knew the answer but it was important in the process for Hope to ponder the question.

“Yes….Maybe I was trying too hard to please my father….” She sighed and Marie raised her left eyebrow slightly; her expression seemed to say, ‘but?’

“I knew I was being a jerk…. No… an uncaring bastard. I treated Susan so badly just so…” She shook her head and Marie’s slight head shake in return seemed to agree but only in part.

“Just so?”

“Just so my father…”

“Your father beat you? Isn’t that what we discussed? How could that be so wrong?”

“It was like….I’m sorry…” Hope began to cry. She used the back of her left hand to wipe her face before continuing.

“It was like kick the dog…funny. My dad used that as an illustration in one of his….” She pounded the back of her right hand with her fist twice. Marie was tempted to reach over to touch the girl’s hands, but she held back and nodded; giving the girl a much-needed permission to be angry.

“One of his fucking sermons….you know. You have a bad day and you come home and get angry at your… wife…partner….and by the time it gets to the youngest it’s kick the dog…” She turned away and pounded the arm of the chair.

“But there wasn’t any dog….”

“He would come home from a visitation or some fucking thing with the church, you know? And then he’d look at me and it was like everything he ever….. oh God….” She turned back and faced Marie in near petition.

“Everything he ever hoped for….fuck….Hope….pretty funny, huh? He wanted me to be …. Something I could never be. I’m sorry….” She apologized to Marie as if there was some strange alliance between Pat McKenna and everyone in Hope’s universe.

“Why are you sorry, Hope?” Marie said the name softly.

“I’m sorry I let every one down. My father….my mother… you…”

“We have no expectations here, sweetie. You’re not here to please me or anyone else for that matter. Please… how did you let your father down?”

“I…” a painful wave of realization hit her and she stammered.

“I can’t be what he wants me to be….why can’t he see that?”

“Why do you think he can’t see that?”

“Because he….he doesn’t want to?”

“What do you feel.”

“Like I’m one big fucking disappointment…. Like I can never do anything right?” Even with the inflection, it still was more of a statement than a question.

“Does anyone tell you that?” Marie knew already, but redundancy was imperative in Hope’s process.

“My father tells me…. He told me….” She gasped a sob; holding back something that needed to be heard.

“What did he tell you, Hope?”

“He said…..he…. fuck….” The contrast might have seemed disconcerting with her voice still so much like ‘Tim’s’ in a way. But her demeanor wasn’t one of an arrogant angry boy but a very sad and defeated young woman whose words seemed to belie her name.

“What did he say, Hope?”

“He said I made him sick…. An abomination….what…. who says that to a kid?”

“How old were you, Hope?”

“I ….I was seven…. He caught me in ….” She gasped again and shook her head as a look of pain crossed her face.

“Go ahead…we talked about this….” Mentioning the unmentionable can be quite painful when it really needed to be mentioned all along but for the wall of silence that had been built throughout the McKenna home.

“I…I didn’t mean to…I’m so sorry…” She paused and looked into Marie’s eyes; of course seeing acceptance but struggling so much since disdain and even hatred looked over Marie’s shoulder in contempt.

“I know you’re sorry, Hope. What are you sorry for? What did you do…what did that seven year old do that made your father so angry?”

“I…Heather…she…I…”

“Heather? What about Heather, Hope? What did you do?”

“Dad….I was in Heather’s room and I….” Marie nodded in welcome and warmth; a hopeful remedy to the stark frigid hurt that wrapped itself around the girl.

“I always liked… He found me lying on her bed….I was wearing her pajamas and holding her baby doll.”

“Just like she would have….if….?” Marie half-smiled but inside she was grimacing in anticipation for what was to come.

“I wanted to be just…. Just like her, Marie. And when she d…. Daddy saw me in her bed he just looked at me. It…it was worse than any time he ever hit me…”

“It hurt so much, didn’t it, Hope?”

“We….we weren’t allowed to talk about her…. Like we … it was God’s will that she died….” She bit her tongue and snuffled before shaking her head; more emphatically as tears literally flew off her face.

“She was hit by a fucking drunk driver. How is that God’s will. She wasn’t just my sister, but my best friend. Why would God take her away like that?”

“I don’ t know, hope…I can’t answer that for you. I wish I could.” Marie sighed. Even in the best of circumstances with the best of training, even she struggled; not only with the question but the emotions of being unable to provide answers for herself, much less anyone else.

“Do you think it was God’s will?”

“Ye…no….no. It just happened….She didn’t do anything to deserve that….”

“But your father made you feel that way?” We don’t have the capacity to make anyone feel anything, but we can certainly machinate in such a way as to bend others to our way of thinking. Pat had become very good at that.

“He told me I …. I made him sick….that I was ….” She gasped and put her hand across her face in shame.

“You were what, Hope?”

“I stained her memory….He said I stained her memory….that I could never be….”

“Be what, Hope?”

“As good as her…that I was….He said I was hopeless.” Marie wanted so much to embrace the girl, but in seeking her own solace it would have been to Hope’s detriment.

“He said….he pointed to my jeans and shirt on the chair next to the bed….’This is who you are, Tim. Never forget it!’” She shook her head before turning away.

“He never let you forget It….but what did he forget?”

“It was like…. There are people in church who don’t even know I had a sister….My mom…she…”

“She never talks about Heather?”

“No…and…” Hope turned once again toward Marie and closed her eyes as tears flowed all-too freely; shameful and sad.

“When I told her she just looked at me. ‘It’s for the best, Tim….you’ll see.’ She said…but it was like she didn’t believe it her self.’

“She didn’t believe you were.. I know you didn’t have the name then, but she didn’t believe you were Hope?” The girl’s eyes widened a bit and she shook her head slightly.

“No…it was like she didn’t believe what she was telling me. It wasn’t for the best, Marie… she knew it wasn’t the best for me to just …. She knew I wasn’t Tim when I was seven but she never said a word to Daddy….why do I even call him that. How stupid is that?”

“Why is that stupid, Hope? What makes calling your father ‘Daddy’ stupid?”

“Because…I don’t know… I just started…I mean…what the fuck…” The words again seemed oddly dissonant; not for the content but for the contrast in demeanor. Her shoulders sagged as she seemed to retreat into the chair. She looked up with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry….I feel so….”

“How do you feel?”

“Like if I say some things I’m still stuck ….like I’m still Tim….”

“What things, Hope?”

“Like when I…just now….I keep saying stuff like that…”

“You sound like you’re really conflicted.”

“Yes…that’s…. I feel like I’m being pulled apart…. But…. Oh fuck….Oh..” She grimaced at the word and put her head down again.

“Hope? It’s okay to be angry and upset….it’s okay to feel the way you do. You’ve been trying for so long to fit in and be what was expected.

“I don’t want to be Tim….I’m not Tim, Marie. Why can’t he see that?” A return to the one thing that drove everything else.

“Are you Tim? Who are you?”

“I’m …. I don’t know what I am.”

“Not what, honey. Who? Who are you?”

“My name… I’m Hope…”

“And he doesn’t see who you are…. He chooses not to see who you are because?”

“I think…. I feel hurt that he won’t accept me. It’s like Heather all over again.”

“How so, Hope?” Marie knew that Hope understood, but to speak it was a confession of sorts; perhaps painful at first but freeing nonetheless.

“When Hope died…” She paused and her face grew red in needless embarrassment over the truth that lay just below the surface of her word. She looked at Marie and the woman nodded with a half-smile; knowing and understanding.

“When Heather died she was buried…like put away. And….”

“When she died…when your family chose to put away her memories…. What happened, Hope?”

“When my mom agreed with him…it was like….oh fuck….”

“What did it feel like, Hope?”

“It felt….oh God…it felt like I died and got put away just like her….”

“Hidden….the word….”

“What?” Hope tilted her head, her name and the moment fused together.

“I’m not a scholar, but I know that the root words are the same…buried and hidden… like you were hidden away for no one to see? Did it feel that way, Hope? That somehow you and Heather….”

“They forgot me and her…. Like we never existed.”

“But you were there all the time, weren’t you? Struggling to be heard? To be seen? To be what, Hope?”

“They…didn’t love me…they loved what they wanted to see but they didn’t see me to love me…How could they do that…. How could they not see me?”

“I remember an old saying…it goes something like …there are none so blind as those who choose not to see. You’ve been there all along, Hope, no matter what role you were playing.”

“What do I do now, Marie? How….how can I get them to see me?”

“By being exactly the same person you’ve always been, Hope. That’s all any of us can do.”

“It hurts…. She apologized once again with a head shake and downcast eyes.

“I know it hurts, but there’s nothing wrong with you for feeling that pain. Nothing wrong at all, Hope.

“What if they don’t accept me? I don’t know if I can live with that.”

“You’ve lived all of your life with that, Hope and you’re strong… and brave.” Hope’s face reddened; a mixture of embarrassment and guilt.

“Brave? Look how I treated Susan. I wasn’t brave then.”

“We can be so many things in our lives that are good even if we do things that aren’t so good. What does Susan say?

“She forgives…she forgave me.” Another head shake in complete disagreement quickly replaced by a calm resignation as Marie smiled.

“If she forgives you…since she’s chosen to see you….” Almost a much an homage to Avatar as to the girl’s faith, the choice to see Hope was important.

“She sees everything about you…all the things you’ve been to her, both good and bad, and she still forgives you. Your father….has he ever seen you? Your mother?”

“My Mom…it’s like she chose to look away…like she couldn’t bear to see what Daddy was doing…oh fuck…” The word ‘Daddy’ once again evoked a wince.

“You wanted her to see you and she chose to look away. And your father looked right at you and ?”

“I was right there….I was right in front of him and it was like he looked right through me….like I wasn’t there. Like I didn’t exist.”

“And your friend…your best friend? She knows all about you and what you’ve said and done and she’s what, Hope?”

“She’s still my friend.”

“So whom should you believe? The Daddy who doesn’t see you? Your Mom, who chose to look away, or Susan?”

Marie almost expected a sheepish reply; a question rather than a statement. But Hope surprised even herself as she declared with a calm smile,

“Susan.”

“The forgiveness extended without condition; that enduring love you’ve needed since you were born, is that about right?” Hope nodded.

“Then if Susan can extend forgiveness to you, who do you suppose needs to forgive next and whom shall they forgive. This time the reply was hesitant, as if by answering Hope would somehow feel affirmed. Nothing at that moment could affirm Hope more than her own words, however; something she would learn by speaking. She took a deep breath and spoke.

“I need to forgive myself.” At the mention of her own forgiveness, Hope’s shoulders relaxed and even in the midst of it all she began to weep; in the most profound understanding of her own faith as she continued her movement from self-hatred to self acceptance. She smiled weakly; not from a lack of conviction but from the sheer release of all the shame and guilt that washed away as she wept harder in that single moment than at any other time in her life.

Rosedale Cemetery, Linden, New Jersey...

Liz McKenna stared at the plain looking brass plaque at her feet.

"Heather Anne McKenna ... beloved daughter...." Her voice trailed off as she tried without success to stifle a sob.

"I'm so sorry...please...baby? Forgive me?" It would have seemed that Liz was asking for Heather's forgiveness but for the picture in her hand. Laminating barely kept the old photo intact, but it remained a treasure. She blinked back tears as her eyes struggled to focus on the two figures in the picture.

"We'll make this right, okay, honey?" Her eyes darted between two little girls; alike enough as to be almost twins. Heather was six and her sister had just turned five.

"I would have...I should have called you by name." She stared at the younger of the two.

"If....maybe we can use your name for a middle name?" Her words were halting and apologetic and long overdue. Two little girls; separated by death and by the missteps of their mother and the willful ignorance of their father. Heather Anne McKenna - age six. And her sister. She didn't have a name then but she would have one now.

Liz kissed the picture and spoke through halting tears.

"My babies...Heather Anne...and Hope...Hope Timothea McKenna.

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here.
This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now...”
― C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle

The DePasquale home, several days later…

Hope sat on the couch with her legs curled up underneath her. Two magazines lay next to her, virtually ignored;Sports Illustrated and Elle, which seemed to exemplify the struggle, however needless, between in her emerging self and her past. She stared out the large window at the Red Maple in the front yard as a squirrel scurried up the tree. The front door opened even as a knock came on the door frame.

“Hey? Lina? Susan?” Danny called out; still standing in the doorway.

“Oh…Hi… they’re off to look at apartments,” Hope sighed.

“Oh…so soon? I guess it’s better to get that done,” Danny said as he walked into the living room.

“Since Noorah is going to school in the city and Susan is still deciding, they…I guess Jersey City is a good compromise.”

“Sorry…I guess that means you won’t be seeing them as much.” Danny sat down in the wooden rocker across from the couch. Hope turned away nervously and coughed. She shrugged her shoulders; a gesture not uncommon even when she ‘wasn’t’ Hope. Danny recognized the frustration immediately.

“Hey, maybe they’ll change their minds. Still not hard at all to commute if you have to.” He smiled but he knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Things change. People change. That idea wasn’t lost on him at all. He looked at the girl on the couch. A best friend from childhood who still was a good friend even if they both went through confusion over the years; majorly in the past two years.

“Maybe…” Hope sighed again. Danny looked at her and wondered how things could be so different and still remain much the same as they had been only months ago. He noticed her face hadn’t changed much other than a bit of eye shadow and newly trimmed eyebrows along with slightly glossy pink lips. Apart from that, her face was fairly the same as it had always been. A nose that might have been okay on a boy seemed bigger; though he would never say that to her. Her chin was stronger perhaps than most girls might like, but somehow her appearance had suddenly become ‘striking.’

“What?” Hope put her head down even as her face reddened.

“Oh…sorry.” Danny was almost not sorry at all. Things between them were changing even as old feelings began to resurface. Exploration between them as twelve-year-olds was now called into tentative recollection. Both of them had managed to keep a pre-teen tryst secret from everyone, but the feelings they had shared were coming to the forefront as young adults. Danny leaned on his knees and half-smiled.’

“Damn…. It’s not like we don’ t know each other?” But it was. The boy Danny thought he knew all along was slowly retreating; at least in demeanor. And things that Danny thought he remembered about Tim seemed to take on new meaning as Hope continued to emerge.

“You don’t have to stay, Danny. I’m okay. You don’t have to keep me company or hang around on my account. I understand.” Trouble was, neither really understood the other even though both desperately wanted that.

“I….I want to stay, H…Hope,” Danny double-clutched on her name; still fairly new to everybody and almost completely foreign to the young man sitting in the rocker across from her.

“W…why..?”

“I think…. We need to talk, Hope. I know I do, and I think you might as well.” He paused and looked away, searching for strength.

“I’m not use to this…. I don’t even know what to say but I have to start saying something.” Hope blushed again and turned away.

“Listen, okay? It’s not like we’re strangers, and it’s not like we don’t care for each other.”

“After how I treated Susan, I don’t know why you would…care for me.”

“That was someone else talking, Hope.”

“No it wasn’t, Danny. I treated your sister like….I used her to protect myself…to deny everything to keep myself safe.

“It’s not like you had a choice….what your father was doing to you.” Hope’s eyes widened in confused fear.

“How…I never said…who told you?”

“You think I never saw….” Danny bit his lip. Now it was his turn to be confused. It was one thing to feel protective of a young woman, but an entirely different thing, he thought, to feel protective about another boy. He paused and cleared his throat nervously.

“When…. The first time we got together, I saw the marks on your neck…. The red marks on the back of your legs…oh fuck.” Danny did something he normally reserved, however unintentionally, for private moments. He began to cry; only a bit, but markedly different than anything Hope had seen. Danny swallowed hard and stared at the girl. His eyes widened in recognition as he saw Hope and Tim as one person for the first time; the entire being he had not-so-secretly loved since they were eleven years old.

“I’m so sorry….” He apologized, as if as a young adult he bore responsibility for the inaction of a pre-teen boy who felt helpless and confused. The confusion was never about loving a boy but rather loving that boy. He continued.

“I should have told my Dad,” he shook his head. Hope shook hers in answer.

“It’s okay, Danny. Really,” Hope said in a completely unconvincing manner. Not about his inaction, but still about how things were and had to be when they were both in places as children of inflexible fathers. Danny’s mom would have done something; she was keen enough to have seen what was going on if she had lived. And Liz McKenna was paralyzed with her own fears enough to fail her child miserably.

“No, it’s not. I guess …. I….” he stammered. Part of him realized that he had no real choices when they were young even as the other part of him felt needless shame. He sighed deeply and resumed crying; some for himself but so much more for the friend he had loved and had grown to love again. A moment or two passed.

“I know…. Oh, dammit, Danny….why did God make me so fucked up?” The cadence of the words seemed unchanged from when Danny knew her as Tim, but the demeanor was entirely sad and hopeless; more an expression of how things had always been rather than a new if expected way of showing herself.

“Oh, no! You’re not ….” He found himself accommodating her sensitivities, so to speak, even as she violated them herself with old, ineffective ways. He stood up and walked over and sat down next to her.

“You’re not…this is….it’s as new for you as anyone else….” Danny found himself staring at her face. He struggled with feelings that rose up in the midst of wanting to accommodate her need for the moment; leaving him feeling shallow and selfish. Her frown did little to help him move away from that guilt even as he found himself wrestling with competing priorities.

“I’m a freak….My Dad says so, so it must be true.” Hope shook her head again; not in denial of the statement but rather in the hopeless feeling that she indeed would never fit in. The old lies uttered by her father and the mute responses by her mother pulled her back into inadequacy and shame. Danny tried to resist, but found his hands acting entirely on their own as he grabbed her hands in his.

“No…not a freak…no…” Danny’s emotions seemed to all come to the surface at once. Frustration over Hope’s shame. Feelings of confusion still buffeted him even as clarity seemed to poke through the haze. His thumb brushed lightly over a scar on the back of her left hand. He raised his head slightly and noticed sadness in her eyes that had never really felt safe enough to come out. And then it happened. Or rather; then he acted. Placing his hand on her face, he caressed her cheek softly. She hadn’t meant to as well, but she closed her eyes. And he meant it entirely and he leaned closer and kissed her.

“No….stop…no, Danny….no….this is wrong.” An odd thing to say, since it wasn’t the first kiss the two had exchanged. Boys together in the back of the church van after everyone had been picked up after a picnic. Strangely appealing and sadly shameful at the same time, but they kissed and would kiss more than several times as kids.

But now, when things should have been clearer and safer and ‘acceptable,’ in a way, Hope felt ashamed and entirely unworthy of the love of a young man she had always loved and had never stopped loving even if that love was buried like some old sweater in a drawer in a seldom used room. But Danny felt she was worthy, or would at least have said so had she continued to speak. But he kissed her anyway and she failed to resist; finally feeling at least that it wasn’t a bad thing even if she couldn’t convince herself that it was a good thing that she deserved.

“I…I’m sorry,” Danny spoke even as he continued to cry. The strong, loving young man being emotional and the only recently emerged retiring girl being almost stoic until he began kissing her cheek. A respite for her lips became emotionally charged several moments as Danny continued to apologize. That idea that he might take advantage of her was pushed aside as she gasped before falling into his arms; her body wracked with sobs so strong that it shook Danny.

“I’m so sorry,” Danny went on, but she put her arms around him and nestled into his comfort as she continued to cry; her sobs softening to relieved weeping as the love she should have had all along from her own father was bestowed upon her like a gift from heaven. Danny’s crying a counterpoint to hers like a strong baritone compliments a lovely soprano or better still, a sweet alto.

Lina stood on the threshold of the front door and watched the two; lost in the act of restoration that only two souls in harmony can experience. She wiped away the tears that fell from her own eyes and looked upward; beyond the doorway to a less-solid if entirely tangible place as she mouthed two words.

“Thank you!”

“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places;
but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers

The McKenna home….the following day…

Pat walked into the kitchen; looking around in confusion. No aroma of dinner or even leftover smells of the day. Everything was in its place and spotless. The kitchen table was unadorned save for an envelope resting on the napkin holder in the center, unmarked. He grabbed the envelope and read it slowly as the color quickly drained from his face only to be replaced with a glowing heat red, angry heat.

Dear Pat. I love you. But I don’t like you. I’m sorry it took so long to do this. Maybe if I had, things would be different in our family. But to my own sad cowardly failure, I never said a word as you casually threw away all the love you had from us. You dismissed the memory of our girl and you pushed me away with your mean-spirited insistence on always being right. Funny – ‘spirited.’ You don’t know how much you’ve hurt us, but mostly you hurt your child.

You know she was never what you wanted her to be, much less what you insisted God wanted. Do you really presume to know so much? I haven’t grown to hate you, Pat. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over you, but I can’t remain in a loveless marriage in a loveless family when my daughter languishes on the vine while you tend to the vineyard of your congregation.

The sad thing is all she’s ever wanted to do was to make you happy. She did everything you asked and even more, to her sorrow. Her name is Hope, Pat, if that matters to you. I sincerely hope it will come to mean something, since she still loves you despite all the hurt you gave her. Funny thing about love; it always hopes. I’m going to my cousins for a few days and maybe we can talk after that. Don’t call; I need time to think and figure out how to fix my part in this, and yes, Pat, time to pray. With hope, Liz

As Pat read the last few words he shook his head and sat down. It would have been nice to note that he cried from remorse, but he didn’t. Thankfully, however, he was no longer angry, but instead felt hurt and sad. Entirely understandable if equally selfish on his part with no accepting of responsibility either. Still, it was better than blaming everyone else. And as they say,two out of three ain’t bad. It would be the addition of the final third of the equation that would mean the difference for Pat McKenna and his family, but it was destined to become addition by subtraction….

“That's the way things come clear. All of a sudden. And then you realize how obvious they've been all along.” ― Madeleine L'Engle

The McKenna home…hours later….

Pat sat at his desk; trying to make sense of the letter he held in his left hand. Ironic, since Liz was left handed and they always joked; rather he always joked about how sinister and left-handed both were evil. The joke had gotten old a long time ago, and all that was left was the fact that the only evil that ever dwelt in the McKenna house was in the twins that Pat had nurtured in his own heart; ignorance and arrogance.

He looked at the clock; eight-seventeen. He almost expected Liz would walk through the front door; their recalcitrant son in tow. But one more glance at her letter put that idea to rest. He smoothed the paper out, as if by straightening the letter he would straighten everything. But the letter wasn’t about things. Liz wrote the letter in hopes….even that was ironic…in hopes of appealing to Pat about the two most important people in Pat’s life. He stood up and sighed before walking out of the house. A few moments later he was in his car driving down the street.

Despite the caution Liz had made, Pat was determined to talk to her face to face; if he had the chance he ‘d talk some sense into her, he had thought. But it wasn’t about the head, but about the heart. Not just the emotions, but the very core of who they all were. It wasn’t the first time Pat would get it wrong, but it would be the most important mistake he would ever make.

Lina’s front porch at the same time….

“You….I’m so f…I’m so confused. It’s not like we don’t…but this is different. How can you…why do you?” Hope stared at Danny. The young man shook his head, but smiled broadly.

“How the fuck… How should I know?” He quickly corrected himself. As much as he remembered all the times he and Tim would joke and laugh, the words seemed to be shoved aside like old sports equipment as new interests and new thoughts and new feelings took their place. Acting like a boy around another boy didn’t make any sense even in retrospect. Tim’s words, while profane, now seemed guarded in hind-sight. It was odd to think that a pastor’s son used ‘bad’ words to prove to his father just how much of a boy he was. But there was one time…. Danny stared back at Hope and remembered.

“Did you see Tiffany at Youth Group last night? Holy shit,” Danny said with a knowing laugh; a verbal nudge to his best friend. Tim looked at him and nodded, but the expression seemed almost reluctant.

“Come on…you have to admit that top wasn’t exactly what you’d expect her to wear. She’s….” Danny practically pled for Tim’s approval. The boy nodded once again.

“What’s the matter? You’re not…I mean I thought we dealt with that…” Danny’s face grew red with embarrassment. Tim shook his head.

“Oh……no….I’m just not feeling good.” To say the least. Tim didn’t know that Danny knew about the beatings the boy was getting. Thankfully they were few and far between, as the old saying goes, as if a reduction in frequency would mitigate the hurt the boy felt. Danny nodded robotically and Tim sighed; relief over what he hoped would end the discussion. But even as the words began to dissipate, Danny wondered if the hurt the boy felt at home was the only reason for the reply.

“Oh…so you think she’s hot?” He smiled and Tim smiled back; weakly and followed by a turn of the head just a bit. Danny nodded to himself; that’s got to be it…he’s just not feeling well, he thought. Danny went to stand up and Tim touched Danny’s shirt sleeve; pulling his hand away quickly as his face grew hot.

“You mind hangin’ out for a while? Maybe play Call of Duty or something?”

“Sure...we can do that. “ Video games always seemed to bridge the gap between nervous and relieved, but Danny could never quite figure out why either of them were nervous or why they felt relieved. He helped Tim to his feet and the boy stood close. The same look that the two had exchanged in secret shame years before seemed to flicker like a candle before going out as the boy looked away once again before walking into the house.

Danny stared once again at Hope; the physical changes were subtle in some places and a bit more apparent in others. She had begun to use makeup, and the unfamiliarity showed. He smiled at her and she tilted her head.

“What?”

“I never realized how….oh…fuck…” The awkwardness shouldn’t have been there, but then Hope’s therapist would probably have reminded Danny that ‘should’ and ‘must’ don’t always fit into how we see ourselves and others. Danny felt guilty over feeling awkward, since he expected that his friendship and his commitment to Hope would have changed everything by now. He was accepting and understanding wasn’t he?

“I understand,” Hope replied and turned away, feeling entirely awkward and embarrassed and ashamed herself.

“NO….” Danny hadn’t meant to raise his voice. And Hope had always presented as strong and resilient and even aloof when she was Tim, but that façade was slowly being worn away merely by the onslaught of new emotions and beliefs and self-awareness. She winced at his tone. He reached over and touched her arm and she recoiled. Where Tim might have pushed through embarrassment out of self-preservation, Hope had almost no strength to resist kindness and care.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean it that way. What I meant is that I don’t even understand how I feel, so how could you. I know you’re trying, but this is all fucking new.” He turned away. How could someone who had cared all along for the boy be so nervous and even almost ashamed of his feelings for the girl. She made it easy for him; even if it was unintentional.

“I’m sorry, too, Danny. I don’t know how to feel or think about this. You know…. “ She looked down at herself and frowned.

“I’m not very pretty….I know that.” She might not have been ‘very pretty,’ but to Danny she was starting to look more and more attractive. Something about a slight upcurl at the left corner of her lips which had gone almost unnoticed began to appeal to him. The tiny scar over her left eye had always been a mark of strength; the strong, defiant boy he had always known, in a way. But now, in the sunlight just sitting there, the scar became a mark of vulnerability. And the protector saw someone who needed rescuing. He reached over and touched her cheek.

“Stop, Danny…this Is wrong.” She protested. Tears that usually hid well behind a lock of long, boyishly unruly hair now seemed almost magical; as if by crying in that one certain way they began to help redefine Hope in front of Danny’s eyes. He persisted, stroking her cheek once again.

“Please stop….I’m not….you can’t….” Years of being beat down emotionally had taken much more of a toll than the physical abuse ever could, and she pulled away; feeling unworthy, ashamed, and ill-suited for the role she had always sought. Now that her life-long dream was becoming a reality, she felt entirely out of place in her own world. Danny didn’t care. He grabbed her hand; softly and tentatively.

“I don’t know why I feel so bad, Hope. We’ve been together for a long time; this shouldn’t be so hard.” He paused. She sighed; the words seemed to reinforce her shame until he continued.

“But it is hard. Because I’m not good enough for you. There…I said it. You deserve someone who will accept every part of you, and I don’t know how to do that. This is all too new for me, you know?” She nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t finished.

“But here’s the thing. I don’t fucking care. I spent too much of my life already trying to fit what my father wanted…just like you. Yeah, things got better just before he died, but too many years of him expecting me and Carlo and Susan to be just so makes it impossible for me to just look like things are fine when they’re not.” Her eyes widened in fear but he held up his hand in caution.

“Things are never fine for anyone…not for you or me or anyone else I know. We all go through shit…. My mother died….your parents hate you…yeah….” She choked back a sob but Danny wasn’t finished.

“But like I said…I don’t fucking care….I don’t!” He grabbed her hand once again and stroked the top of her wrist with his other hand. Profanity would have seemed ….profane. But the words, hard and near-angry, even coming from two pastor’s kids, were entirely fitting. He didn’t care.

“Stop…please, Danny.” The boy in the girl seemed to protest at the kind attention; Hope was entirely lost in her own dream, like a miscast actress without anyone to cue her lines. She shuddered.

“It’s not about who we should be…not how anyone else thinks or maybe even how we think we should be. It’s about who we are. Not what we were when we were kids, or maybe even last year or yesterday. It’s about who we are now. We gotta get off this stupid ride we’re on…we’ll go nowhere, and I don’t think that’s what you want. I know it isn’t what I want. Okay?”

“I don’t know….” Hope sighed. Too much to take in. Too much to let go; maybe both bad and good? He tapped her wrist with his thumb; almost playfully.

“It’s not about you being someone else. You’re the same Tim I always knew, but with the name you should have had long ago. You don’t have to be anything for me… because you already are.” He looked into her eyes. Some of the fear seemed to have departed, but she still was anxious. She looked down at her body. New shapes were welcome but disappointing in a way. She touched her own cheek.

“I don’t know ….I should have never….” As her voice trailed off she felt her hand being pulled. Danny did something he never had done before and likely would find hard to duplicate at any other time. He kissed the palm of her hand. She winced. Old feelings arose and shameful feelings tried to take hold. As a boy, Tim had been cautious and even felt guilty over the moments stolen in forbidden care. But now, as a girl, or rather, as the girl Tim had always been, the shame was over feeling brand-new and foolish and as bent and twisted as her father had made her feel. She went to pull her hand away, but Danny pulled her even closer and kissed her. She tried to resist, but it wasn’t really going to be successful, since that part of her dream she had never spoken was coming to pass as well. She recalled for herself one time….

Oh….hey…” The boy looked up to see his best friend and ally; while Danny didn’t participate in Tim’s forays into bullying and bravado, neither did he look away, but instead almost approved by his choice not to intervene. Tim hastily closed his spiral notebook. The cover was red and had various doodles of basketball hoops and even a couple of well-drawn players; one of which bore a striking resemblance to the middle-school boy who stood over him.

“You wanna go over to Larry Kuzel’s place…he’s got the new Halo?”

“No…I gotta get home…. We have a family dinner with somebody from church. I’ll catch you later, okay?” Danny nodded and walked off, leaving Tim feeling both relieved and embarrassed; grateful that no one could see the red of his cheeks in the shade of the porch. He opened the notebook once again and stared at the writing on the page.

“Mrs. Danny Albanese”

Tim stared at the page and he felt his cheeks grow even hotter. Shameful tears came to his eyes and obscured his view. He peered closely and saw that the ink had run from the teardrops that had fallen the page. He pulled the paper away and cast the notebook aside. Staring at the damning words, he sighed before ripping the page into little pieces. No one would ever know, and that was as it should be….

She looked up and saw that Danny was smiling; an awkward toothy grin that came out on occasion when Danny was feeling secure and relaxed. She shook her head, but the smile pulled her close and for the first time in her brief appearance in life, she kissed someone. Danny had kissed her, but this time it was all Hope as she welcomed the boy she had always loved into her life. And that love would sustain her as she would be challenged with choices and demands and expectations unlike anything she had ever experienced or likely would ever face again.

Somewhere on Eastbound Rt22 between Cranford and Mountainside

Pat was driving with a goal. A purpose. This was a challenge he was determined to meet head-on.

“Where the hell is that road? Pembroke? Damn.” He never liked visiting his wife’s family and seldom if at all cared where they lived, but he was determined to talk to Liz. Talking with Liz didn’t seem to be an option, however.

His self-indulgence had gotten the better of him once again; it almost always did. And while Pat wasn’t a crying sort of guy, he did get weepy when that self-indulgence took hold. He blinked back angry tears even as the rain outside began to pummel the car. In the midst of his self-pity he failed to notice the signs indicating a change in traffic pattern and lane shift. He was about to utter a seldom-heard curse when his car slammed into the back of a parked Mountainside DPW truck and everything went black.

Where There Is Love

"I really do understand that people change, as Wolfi said,
not so much from who we are as to who we are―
Madeleine L'Engle, A Severed Wasp

One man come in the name of love
One man come and go.
One man come he to justify
One man to overthrow.

In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.

Trinitas Hospital…

“Hey, Lina? That McKenna boy still living with you?” Alice called from the nurses’ station. She could be forgiven the wrong noun gender since it wasn’t widely known outside of the home that Tim was now living as Hope McKenna. And the urgency in the woman’s voice pushed any need to correct the mistake aside.

“Yes? Why do you ask?” Lina walked up to the desk; her face already revealing her concern.

“His dad is down in the ER….Jackie says they brought him in and it’s not looking good. Car ran into dump truck on 22…holy shit…”

“Yeah….” Lina was already walking toward the elevator and she had her cell phone out. She hit a pre-set and waited a second.

“Danny? “ she asked even as the pre-recorded message announced he wasn’t able to come to the phone. She hit off and pressed another pre-set; waiting nervously as the phone rang repeatedly.

“Come on…Carlo…pick up, pick…” The phone on the other end clicked.

“Carlo? Is Danny home? He’s over at our place? Damn…” she paused.

“Listen…Pat McKenna has been in an accident…yeah…car….they don’t know…I don’t know what, but my supervisor just told me it’s touch and go… yeah….maybe you could drive over there and let them know…I don’t think Danny should be left to tell Hope alone….yeah….love you too…”

“Son of a bitch….”

In front of the McKenna home, a short while later…

“Damn it, Pat…pick up the phone….” Liz stared at the house. She didn’t want to confront him, and was hoping that the empty space in the driveway meant he was out on some visitation. She looked at her watch – eleven-eighteen. She sighed and then put her car in gear and drove away.

Lina’s home, at the same time…

Carlo pulled up in front of the house. He got out of the car and ran up the front steps. Opening the door, he found Hope sitting next to Danny on the couch. Danny seemed to be asleep and Hope looked up with a start; her face growing a rapidly deepening red. Carlo didn’t want to be rude, but he practically ignored the girl and walked over to the couch and shook Danny’s shoulder.

“What…oh, hey…” He looked up at Carlo and then over to Hope and his complexion began to mirror the redness of the girl’s face.

“We… “He paused and a smile came to his face; uncommonly peaceful and relieved.

“We talked.”

Carlo laughed softly but suddenly changed as he recalled the reason for his abrupt visit to Lina’s home.

“There…there’s been an accident.” His eyes widened anxiously before he continued.

“Hope?” She looked at him and tilted her head nervously.

“Your dad ….he’s been in an accident…. We need to get to the hospital….NOW!’ Carlo didn’t mean to be so loud, but the urgency of the moment demanded more than a mere request. She stood up and Danny shook his head before jumping up. He grabbed her hand and she went to pull away.

“No….no!” She turned her back and began to cry. He went to put his hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it off. Turning back to them again, her face was a mask of confused anger. Something that made her look oddly vulnerable; a look Danny hadn’t seen since they were in middle school when he realized she was being abused.

“I…” She shook her head vigorously; sending tears flying off her face.

“I don’t care…I don’t care.” Her appearance seemed almost boy-like at first until Carlo realized it was really something like a return to her recent past. They never knew that the bravado was a barely effective way of defending herself…the child had always been vulnerable. And her appearance still almost approximated that of a girlish boy in a way, since dressing and behaving like her true self was still somewhat foreign. That she already had gotten into the habit of saying she wasn’t pretty seemed to stress that misconception. Carlo used a head shake to urge Danny to help.

“I know….”

“What do you know, Danny? You can’t possibly know what this feels like. I hate him…I hate him…oh fuck…” She put her hand to her face in shame. He stepped closer and she stepped back and stumbled into the couch. Looking up at them, her eyes seemed to plead for understanding even as her words went to push Danny away.

“I hate him….” She turned her face to the back of the couch and she began to sob. Danny stood stock still, confused by the mixed signals. He felt a hand press against his back.

“Dan…. She needs you….. Come on, Bro. She needs you.” He pushed Danny softly closer to the couch and his brother sat down next to the sobbing girl.

“I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I know it hurts…bad. Like when our dad turned his back on Susan. She….” Danny choked up with the loss for words mixing with his own sadness. Carlo finished Danny’s thought.

“Daddy never realized it until the end that Susan never stopped loving him…after all that hurt….he pushed her away but she never left him…you know?” At the words Hope’s sobbing subsided a bit. She looked up at Carlo and then turned to Danny; seeing the same expression in his face as in Carlo’s. Danny nodded and spoke; haltingly from wanting to say the right words.

“You hate what your father has done to you….but you feel like….” He paused and looked over at his brother for support. Carlo nodded and Danny continued. Susan wasn’t there, but she would say the words herself if she was sitting there with them; a permission of sorts between three siblings to speak of anything of ‘theirs’ that would help anyone else.

“Susan felt sometimes like she betrayed herself… like if she still loved Daddy it was like hating herself. But she loved our father for her sake; not his, though it worked out for both of them in the end, you know?”

“But I hate him…why am I so ….why does this hurt?” The anticipation of losing the one person in life she had ever wanted to please seemed to strike her hard like a rude slap to the face. She fell into Danny’s arms and began to shake. Self-loathing and guilt and shame slammed hard into forgiveness and true love for her father.

“I hate him…I hate him….why….I’m so sorry…..”

She apologized haltingly even as Danny patted her back softly. Something seemed to change visually; not in the vision itself but in Danny’s perception. Hope almost began to look pretty to him. It might have been the protector in him seeing her as a girl for the first time even though he knew that already. Her face hadn’t changed at all. All of her features remained as they always had been but her demeanor seemed to show through…. Like sunlight breaking through a dark cloud.

And Danny fell in love all over again. If Danny had already loved Hope for her sake, something in that very painful moment redefined Danny Calabrese since he not only loved the girl in his arms for her sake, but for his as well. She continued to sob; speaking apologies and angry laments equally as Danny held her close.

“I know,” he said softly as he stroked her hair; as much a means of affection as consolation. Danny turned to Carlo and shrugged his shoulders in question. Carlo nodded and smiled. Time might be of the essence, but in the midst of the dire emergency that urged them to hurry to the hospital, there was more of a need for Danny and Hope to just sit there on the couch; holding each other. Carlo’s cell rang.

“Lina? Yeah…we’ll be outta here in a couple…yeah…she’s…” He paused and looked at Hope. Grief still lingered, but her expression seemed less…guilty?

“She’s okay…yeah. We’ll be there….yeah….twenty…maybe a half hour…yeah time is …okay, love you too.” He clicked off and turned to face the couple once again. Hope’s sobbing had subsided and she seemed relaxed if still very sad. Danny continued to hold her close; stroking her hair. Carlo shook his head and laughed softly; belying the urgency of the moment as he mouthed a line from an old movie.

“On any other day…”

On Lexington Avenue in Cranford on the way to the hospital

Carlo pushed the car as fast as was safe; the night time skies were filled with dark clouds; obscuring any ambient star light and the waning moon. Hope stared out the passenger- side rear window and watched the rain cascade heavily down the glass; her head propped against the frame with her cell next to her left temple. She brought it around and hit redial. After four rings she heard the click from the other end.

“Mom? Yes … no Mom…” She breathed out heavily.

“Dad he’s been in an acci… no… we’re almost at the hos…yes… Trinitas… the ER, Mom.” She waited a few moments while the line went silent.

“What? No…I don’t know. I’ll meet you in the waiting room…yes… I…I love you, too.” She clicked off and sighed.

“She’s on her way?” Danny grabbed hope’s hand and she turned to face him.

“Yeah…yes. She was on her way to my aunt’s house so she’s turned around.” Hope’s voice trailed off as she put her hand to her face. Danny urged her with a squeeze of her hand to face him, but she turned away.

“It’s…this too much….He could…he could die before I…. And my mother just told me she loved me…” Her voice turned from bitter to almost relaxed even as she sobbed.

“She…she called me…Hope.”

Danny looked completely lost and confused. He couldn’t remember Tim ever being so emotional. Not when they were younger and the boy kept a terrible secret about how cruel his father was. Not even in the recent past when he came out to his friends. But it was almost predictable; emotions kept repressed for so long burst to the surface like beach balls held under the water in a swimming pool; rising so much faster than when they were submerged.

Where Tim’s emotions were rightly guarded against attack, the safety of being with friends and new family had stripped any strength the girl had to keep things under the surface. As painful as that felt, it was a good thing if entirely confusing to those around her. He looked straight ahead.

“Danny….” Her voice was soft, tentative, too deep for her own comfort and entirely vulnerable as she squeezed his wrist.

“Hold me?”

It felt odd; the thing about the haste of the girl’s emergence is that she was just as confused and feeling awkward as Danny; wanting to be exactly what a girl should be. Her therapist would remind her that she didn’t have to be anything she wasn’t and she didn’t have to be someone other than for herself. There would be a great deal of her who would always be Tim in a way because Tim had always been her. Danny half-smiled; his own awkwardness only getting a little in the way as he pulled her close.

“It’s going to be alright.” That way of assuring someone that comes from more than just trite sayings, but a deep faith inside the young man that pushed past his own defenses to the surface just in time to console the girl. She buried her face in his chest; pulling away in fear and confusion over how to react and act and behave. He touched her cheek gently. Where in times past their loving had been tentative but forceful, this caress was meaningful and gentle and well-timed in the midst of the girl’s sometimes sprint and sometimes saunter in to new womanhood.

“It will?”

“Yes,” he said with a confidence that surprised him. The sound of the rain against the car roof had abated, and Carlo heard their exchange. He breathed a sigh of relief before glancing upward with a nod and smile.

The ER waiting room, eleven minutes later…

Hope stood by the door into the ER from the waiting room; looking for a doctor…any doctor to emerge. Danny stood off only slightly to the side; Hope reached back blindly and he grabbed her hand, stepping closer. Liz had just walked up and looked at the girl in amazement. Hope turned to see her mother’s face; a study in deadpan. She pulled away from Liz despite an offer of open arms. The deadpan quickly changed into a mask of sadness. She shook her head.

“Mom….I’m….”

“I know… I don’t deserve you. I told that to your sister.” Hope’s eyes widened.

“You…you talk to Heather?”

“All the time… I went to see her… I am so sorry…. I should have said something… done something…” Liz put her head down. A second later she felt a hand gently grab her wrist. Danny led her closer to Hope. The girl had put her own head down, but had opened her arms in a very tentative welcome as she shook where she stood. She was crying and only noticed her mother’s presence when the woman wrapped her in an embrace. In a moment they both wept in each other’s arms. Danny nodded and smiled to himself.

“Alright,’ was all he managed to speak when a doctor emerged through the double door leading into the emergency room. He walked up to Liz and Hope and took his scrub hat off; looking frustrated. The doctor spoke for a few moments and then turned away. Liz began to shake and Hope held her as best she could as the woman fell to the floor. Danny rushed to her side and knelt down and supported Liz while Hope stood up. She walked to the intake desk and frantically waved at the woman behind the counter. A few seconds later a nurse and one of the interns were helping Liz into a wheelchair. As they helped her, Hope walked back to Danny and Carlo.

“It’s … it’s not good…. They….he lost his right leg….” She put her hand to her face once again and composed herself.

“He’s probably going to lose his spleen but they say he’ll be okay ….”

“What? They can tell???’

“They….won’t know until….they’re …he’s already in surgery, but they….” She smiled and wiped some of her tears from her face.

“I guess…. I guess it’s going to be alright…. “She was still crying but her face looked surprisingly peaceful.

“But they think he’ll need…. He lost one of his kidneys and they’re afraid there’s too much damage to the other one…he’s…. a transplant.” Danny shook his head no even as the odd smile grew wider; revealing a peace and a confidence that Danny hadn’t seen since he and Tim were in middle school. But that air of confidence masked the boy’s chaos and fear. This look was entirely different. She nodded yes to his no and spoke.

“A transplant….I’ve got to go…they have to run some tests real quick….Just in case?” She smiled again and went over to Liz and knelt down in front of the wheelchair. A few moments later she and the nurse walked through the ER doors and disappeared. Danny shook his head once again and lowered it before he he felt Carlo’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be alright” Carlo patted him on the back. He looked up to see that Lina had joined his brother and they both nodded in calm agreement.

“She’s going to be alright, Danny, okay?” He nodded sheepishly as Lina grabbed him by the hand and led him through the large doors leading out into the night air. The rain had stopped and the air had that nice post-shower feel to it.

“Breathe, Danny, okay?” He nodded and relaxed.

“Carlo and I are going over to Dunkin Donuts on Raritan…just a few minutes. Go and sit down…they got Pat stabilized. They’re not going to need to do the transplant right away, but it’s going to be a bit shaky until they figure out just what else if anything is wrong. Hang in there and pray, Danny, okay?” She ushered him back into the waiting room before walking out and into the cool fresh night.

“Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light.” Madeleine L'Engle, A Ring of Endless Light

After midnight at the hospital…

Liz sat in a wheelchair in the waiting room; feeling almost abandoned, with few folks around on what normally would be a busy might at the ER. A moment later she heard someone sit down beside her. Danny reached over and grabbed her hand. She shook her head.

“You must hate me.” Liz protested, almost expecting immediate absolution. Danny nodded with a half-frown.

“I have… I did for a long time.” His answer surprised her enough that she dropped the half-full paper coffee cup onto the floor. Danny retrieved a paper towel from the rest room and cleaned up the spill before continuing.

“I guess you don’t get it yet, Liz.” He winced at this own words. While he was used to calling people by their first names, it felt almost sacrilegious to call her anything other than Mrs. McKenna.

“I guess I don’t. What more can I say that I haven’t said already to myself, Daniel…. What else can I blame myself for? It’s my fault that my husband…” Her voice trailed off and Danny held his hand up.

“NO…you’re not going to go there…. Fuck…” His face reddened in embarrassment.

“Sorry…. But no, Liz. Your husband is in there…” He paused and pointed to the doors leading to the ER.

“Because he chose to be and say and do everything. You may have helped.” His rebuke surprised her as well; she almost expected him to let her part lie, but he wasn’t having any of that.

“Right now…taking responsibility for him once again? How many times did you look the other way when he literally bullied people in church to get what he wanted? But making excuses for him now doesn’t do a damn bit of good for anyone.”

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Hope in the intake cubicle closest to the door to the ER. He wanted to go sit with her, but in a moment she was ushered away by a nurse through the door and was gone. He turned to Liz and saw that she had begun to cry again, but something seemed different.

“You’re right.” She sighed and looked around.

“She’s gone for testing…I just saw them ….” Liz’s expression relaxed but she continued to cry.

“When you and he…” She caught herself, earning a relieved half-smile from Danny.

“When you and she were in middle school I thought it was just a phase. I didn’t dare tell Pat what you two were doing…I think….oh God….I think he would have killed the two of you.” She put her hand to her face for a moment.

“He was so….. We couldn’t talk about things at home. It was the church this and the congregation that, you know. Of course you know. As much as you….your Dad tried to talk to him but he was heaven-bent. And even if he didn’t know about you and Tim…I know she’s Hope, but you know what I mean…” Danny nodded.

“He was so angry. I think…. I know he blamed himself for….” As she spoke, her expression changed from sadness to angry and confused recognition; as if for the first time she realized what she had harbored in her own heart all along.

“He was driving when Heather was killed. The other driver was drunk, but Pat was the one who ran the light. That man …. He ended up going to jail when it was both their fault. Pat was so damned in a hurry all the time. Heather was supposed to go to a birthday party and he had an appointment with the board at the same time. Instead of…. He was speeding so he’d make his meeting in time….Oh God I’m so sorry.” She stared at Danny and he realized her apology wasn’t for him. She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. Reaching inside, she withdrew a dog-eared picture.

“He’s never seen this….I couldn’t risk showing him.” The picture was of two little girls. Both seemed familiar; the vague memory of the older girl who ‘went away’ when he was little; never to be spoken of again, like a convenient plot line in a television show. The younger girl he recognized as Hope; the way she would have looked had that moment in time extended across her lifetime instead of beginning at nineteen. He bit his lip and choked back a sob. So much time wasted; so much hurt broadcast over an entire community for the sake of one man’s beliefs at the expense of the one in whom he ostensibly believed.

“I knew he was beating Tim…. He’d take…. They’d go into the back bedroom and I just sat in the kitchen. I think I even turned up the radio… Oh Jesus what did I do?” She looked back over at the door into the ER once again.

“You should hate me. It’s all my fault.” She repeated her self-accusation and Danny didn’t bother to argue, but put his hand on her arm. She looked at him; pleading for forgiveness.

“Don’t ask me, Liz. I’m not the one you need to talk to. I forgave you a long time ago, and I’ve tried as much as I could to keep forgiving you. But the hurt to me was over a long time ago as well. Carlo and I and Susan and Noorah and Lina all have gotten to the point where the past is past. But I can’t speak for Hope. She’s doing the best she can to be who she is, but she’s going to need her mother….She needs to know her mother knows who she is, and not just some fox-hole fucking conversion at the hospital.” Liz’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Don’t even go there….you know exactly what I mean. If your husband come out of this alive, you have to let your daughter know that what he did…what the two of you did was wrong. She’s all fucking giddy right now because you called her by her first name, Liz, but what if Pat doesn’t change? What if he still acts like he’s fucking God almighty and still treats his daughter like crap? What the fuck will you do then?” Danny was shaking and he blinked back angry tears.

“I know enough …. My friend Rami reminded me that you can’t forgive someone on another’s behalf.” He paused and put his hand on her arm and half-smiled in apology for the angry words that still seemed to hover over the both.

“I’m sorry for the …. I just….” He put his head down and Liz shook her head in question.

“You…you really care about her…” The immediacy of her words seemed to step aside for a moment as she recalled a time from the past.

“I gotta go, Tim, okay?” Danny’s hand lingered in Tim’s as he looked away; ashamed and embarrassed. Both boys felt awkward enough, but they had just taken it to a whole new if confused level. Danny turned and stared at Tim and forced a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said almost casually, as if the two had just finished playing Call of Duty instead of entering into tentative exploration. His face was red. Tim nodded.

“Okay…I’ll see you tomorrow.” Danny opened the bedroom door and walked down the hall and out of the hose. Tim stood in the hallway and leaned against the door frame as tears streamed down his face. He sighed and shook his head in shame, but the feeling was soon replaced by regret mixed with hope as he continued to stare at the front door. He didn’t notice that Liz had been home all the time. She walked down the hall as if she had just gotten home.

“We’re going over to Danny’s house for dinner with him and his family.”

“I don’t feel so good, Mom…really.” Tim shook his head and ran back into his room, closing the door behind him. Liz would make an excuse for the boy; one of the few times she would look out for his interests. She leaned against the doorframe and heard sobbing from inside the bedroom. Standing up, she went to open the door, but some odd feeling interrupted her plan and she looked down the hallway at the front door. She had seen the tears flowing from Danny’s face as he hurried past without noticing her.

“Oh my Jesus,” she exclaimed, and not as in sacred prayer but as a surprised expletive. Her eyes darted back and forth between the front door and the door to Tim’s bedroom. She half-frowned and put her hand to her face in frustration as she realized what had just taken place in her own home… in their home. She knocked on the door softly.

“I can’t Mom…I don’t feel so good,” Tim’s voice cried weakly before the sobbing resumed. Her child needed her more than at any other time in his life, and she just stood there in silence; a silence that would last for years….

“Liz? Are you okay?” She felt a soft tap on her shoulder. Lina and Carlo had returned.

“Oh…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry….for everything….” Something in her expression was different than before, and Danny smiled.

“Like I said, Liz….” He pointed to the doorway into the ER and continued.

“We’re all okay….” His smile turned half-frown at her expression.

“Danny? I know…. You and Hope….” There’s no way she could have known, but her smile seemed to explain.

“All along… I’m so sorry I didn’t ….. She…you….” It was too much to bear; still trying to hold up under the weight of the guilt she bore needlessly for Pat’s behavior while struggling to face her own faults and choices. Lina knelt on the floor in front of her and pulled her into an embrace. Liz began to sob deeply; almost from the core of her being.

“I know.”

Nothing more than those two words, but those words were more than enough to help mend the rift between two families; perhaps almost one family in a way as both emerged from darkness into light.

Twenty minutes later…

Everyone had settled in as much as they could as they awaited news. Carlo had grabbed a Cussler paperback from his car and was re-reading it for the third time. Danny and Lina were talking and Liz had gotten enough strength to join in the conversation. A moment later a nurse came up to them.

“Excuse me?” It had to be news about Pat, since there were no other people in the waiting room at that point. Liz looked up anxiously.

“There’s been a problem.” As everyone turned to face her, the nurse quickly added.

“It’s not about your husband…he’s stabilized. It looks as if they were able to save the other kidney after all. Thank God. It’s about your daughter. She passed out. She’s okay, but the attending decided to run some tests. She’s in the triage area.” Everyone stood up.

“I’m sorry….only family members….” The nurse held up her hand in caution. Liz stepped closer.

“She’s okay?”

“Yes…nothing looks serious; might be the stress of everything. But you can go see her.” Liz sighed in relief before turning back to the rest in apology; once again assuming a responsibility not meant for her to bear.

“Go ahead. We’ll be fine,” Carlo said. Lina nodded and Danny patted Liz on the shoulder.

“It’s okay…” He couldn’t hide the look of disappointment on his face; leaving Liz with a small if utterly life-changing decision to make. She nodded at Danny but turned back and spoke.

“I… I know you have rules, but please?” She took a breath and made the plunge into the reality that was her daughter’s life before continuing.

“Would it be alright for my daughter’s boyfriend to accompany me? I’m still a bit unsteady and I know she’d really want him to….” She paused and the nurse started to shake her head no.

“Please? They….they’re….” She paused one last time before finishing.

“They’re childhood sweethearts.” The last bit was too much to resist as the nurse smiled.

“Oh…that’s so sweet.” She put her finger to her lips and said at last,

“Okay, but it will be our secret.” In a moment the nurse led Danny and Liz through the doors and away. Carlo and Lina looked at each other with expressions that seemed to ask if they both just heard what they thought they heard. Lina stepped closer and put her right palm up, evoking a high five from her nephew.

“Son of a bitch…it is so sweet,” Carlo said as he wiped away some tears.

“Yeppers,” was all Lina could get out before she began to cry tears of relief. It was going to be okay.

“If we commit ourselves to one person for life, this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather, it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession but participation.”
Madeleine L'Engle

Came into a dream in the night
When all the world was sleeping so tight
A treasure in store, perilous moments
Knowing their love was so true
A help from their friends, brave and so daring
Angel, soldier, in the night

Hope lay flat on her back; it felt soft so it had to be a meadow or park. She thought she heard the soft gurgle of a stream, and the twitter of all sorts of birds. The breeze felt just cool enough to be comforting. She went to sit up and noticed she wasn’t wearing her clothes, but the rough dungarees and tee shirt of a twelve year old boy.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said as he offered her his hand. She accepted the help and was quickly lifted to her feet.

“I had….” She caught herself as her voice seemed raspy.

“Had it comin’? Yeah…I guess you did.” She realized that it was Danny standing there; his arms folded in what would have appeared to look like gloating except for the odd look of sadness on his face.

“I should have stopped them….” He looked back over his shoulder at two boys who were walking quickly down the street.

“I guess…I got a taste of my own medicine,” she….he said as Tim dusted himself off.

“You…you can’t …. If anyone knows….” He looked down at himself, feeling weak and useless; a very good representation of what his father continued to point out. Danny reached over and shook Tim’s hand but there was almost a reluctance in his voice.

“Well….let’s…” He paused and looked down the block. The two uber-bullies were still watching and he shook his head as he followed through with a very manly hand shake.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said almost wistfully as Tim began to retreat; walking backwards up the front steps of the porch.

“T…t…tomorrow,” Tim said and ran around to the left and into the side door of the house. He walked quickly to the stairs up to his room, but stopped and peered through the drawn curtains of the hall window as Danny ran down the street and around the corner. Tim sighed and shook his head as tears began to fall. He wasn’t any good as a boy; that much was clear if only to him, but he didn’t feel like he’d ever be allowed to fit in the niche of life that God had ordained. He leaned against the window frame and began to weep…..

Trinitas Hospital ER Triage….

“Hope…Hope?” The girl looked up and saw her mother’s face practically creating a fluorescent eclipse from the overhead light. She went to sit up but the strength left her arms and she practically fell back into the bed.

“The doctor….” Liz turned and looked at the nurse before returning her gaze to Hope.

“You…you passed out….the doctor….” She paused; that hesitation that shouts ‘this is my fault,” before continuing.

“You… She’s worried. They haven’t gotten the results for your blood test, but..” She gasped.

“They’re concerned about if you’ve been eating or not.” Danny stepped next to Liz and patted her on the back.

“It’s not serious from what they already can see, but you put a scare in everyone,” he went on; making sure that he smiled warmly; the last thing Hope needed to deal with was more guilt.

“But….but what about Dad?”

“Dr. Mehet is sure that his other kidney is okay; his back was so torn up from the crash that the kidney was lacerated,” the nurse interjected as she checked the monitor next to Hope’s bed.

“Things look better for you as well, but the attending wants to keep you overnight for observation. We’ll be moving you up to the floor in a few minutes. I’ll be back but I’ll leave you folks to each other for now, okay?” She didn’t wait and disappeared behind the drawn curtain.

“I …. I haven’t been able to keep anything down….so I’ve just been … “ She put her head down; another opportunity for shame driven by poor choices fostered by horrible self-esteem. Danny stepped close and lifted her hand and held it, rubbing her wrist softly with his other hand.

“You’ve been…. Growing.” He smiled and turned back to face Liz, who gave him a welcoming nod.

“They’re going to take you up in a few but I wanted to …. Something to keep you until tomorrow, okay?” She looked in his eyes; feeling confused and unworthy as she noticed once again the very strong man was shedding tears…for her.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, and that’s without condition. If Tim came back and Hope went away, it wouldn’t change how I feel for you, but I suppose I really like Hope a lot.” He laughed softly and it evoked a sad response as she turned away and began to weep. He reached over and gently tugged her chin back to face him and kissed her softly.

“You have so much coming at you all at once, and I don’t know what to say other than I think you need something…someone in your life that’s constant…some… unchanging and sure….I hope…” He laughed at the word, which gently coaxed a smile from her.

“I’ll be back first thing, not matter what, okay?” He kissed her again and went to walk out, but stopped next to Liz. Lifting her right hand, he squeezed it and nodded, as if to say ‘your turn.’

“Your father is in recovery. They managed to save the kidney but he’s lost his spleen and …” Liz shook her head. She reached over and grabbed Hope’s hand.

“It’s my ….” She stopped in mid-sentence as Hope’s eyes flashed.

“No, Mom… no.” Hope shook her head and pulled her hand away enough to put it on Liz’s arm.

“You…you’re right. I told him I was going to your Aunt…….’s house. He must have been on his way. The nurse said the police ordered a blood test….he….”

“I know….” Hope bit her lip, as if the secrecy and shame had been passed upward to her father rather than passed down through God knows how many generations.

“Now who’s blaming themselves, honey?” Liz leaned closer and pressed her forehead against Hopes; something she hadn’t done since Tim and Heather were in grammar school. Hope went to pull away, but Liz wrapped her up in a hug.

“We’re so screwed up,” she said; as close to profanity as Hope could ever recall coming from her mother’s mouth.

“And you, young lady, are going to have to take care of yourself.” Hope winced at the endearment; an entirely brand new if completely necessary exchange between mother and daughter. Those two words would have been enough but she continued.

“I am so sorry.” Too many apologies followed by inaction and enabling; this time something broke between them. Needless shame that held them apart replaced by trust and hope as ironic as that sounds. Hope leaned closer and kissed Liz on the lips; like a little girl bestowing thanks to her Mommy at bedtime. The gesture wasn’t new to them, but known only to them, since Pat had practically prohibited any exchange of affection between mother and son.

“I talked to Heather….” Liz stammered. Hope smiled through her tears. Her sister’s memory was banished from the McKenna home; barely spoken in so many years. As the reality of the moment set in, she put her head down and began to weep, but the relief of her mother’s words

“It’s okay….I know you do….I’ve heard you… when your father was out of the house… I miss her too.”

“It’s….no…Mom….you don’t understand….” Hope’s face grew red and her expression went from sad to a panicked shame in a split-second.

“It’s my fault, Mom. I killed her…it’s my fault.” Liz’s eyes widened in horror over the words.

“No, honey…it was an accident.”

“No…it’s my fault. Daddy….DAD said I killed her….” She shook her head in a plea for understanding and forgiveness. She desperately needed understanding, but forgiveness was required for another.

“No, honey….no… what gave you that idea?” She immediately lapsed into her default mode of protecting her husband; as if it was Hope who was confused rather than accepting the cruel accusation he had leveled against his child.

“No, Mom….you don’t understand…Why can’t you understand. Heather was late getting ready for Tasha’s birthday party because I was playing….”

”Liz? I thought you were going to have her ready to go?” Pat snapped as he looked at his watch.

“Just a second, Pat. She’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth.”

“Well, tell her to hurry,” he called from the kitchen door.

“I’ll be in the car.” She heard him walk out as she was leaning against the doorframe of Heather’s bedroom.

“Come on, you two. Heather? Get a move on. Tim? You can play with your sister later.” She spoke hurriedly. Heather jumped up from the small table in the middle of the room and ran past Liz and down the hallway.

“Bye Mommy…bye Timmy….” She yelled as she ran out the door. Liz turned around and faced Tim. He sat at the table with a blue stuffed rabbit in his arms. She walked over and knelt down and kissed him on the cheek.

“It’s okay for now, honey, but we’ll have to be back to normal before Daddy and Heather get back, okay?” She stood up and breathed out a heavy sigh. The boy smiled and nodded before returning his attention to the rabbit and the large teddy bear sitting next to him at the table. He wore something much fancier than Heather, since jeans and a top might do for a friend’s birthday party but a blue dress handed down from mother to daughters was de rigueur for a tea party…..

”Oh, Liz…Oh…” Her sister Doreen held her and wept. She looked over at Pat and shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Mommy…why are you crying?” Tim had walked over and was tugging at Liz’s sleeve. She looked down and shook her head; words struggling to escape without any success. Pat stepped closer and knelt down and went to speak, but his expression changed as he noticed what Tim was wearing. In all the haste of the whole day, Doreen hadn’t thought at all about Tim’s clothing and he was still wearing the blue dress from morning play. Pat stood up and walked quickly through the still-open front door. Tim followed.

“Daddy….why is Mommy crying?” The boy was confused and scared; the mixture of his mother’s sadness didn’t make sense put alongside what seemed like anger from his father.

“Why is she crying? She’s crying because your sister is dead!” No attempt to soften the tragedy for a child; Pat’s anger took him places where even he had feared to tread to that point. But in the midst of the loss the whole family would feel for years, it still was all about Pat McKenna. Tim shook his head in disbelief and screamed.

“No!!!!!!!” He ran up to Pat and put his arms around Pat’s legs in a frightened hug, but Pat literally pushed him away and down. Pat was always in a hurry, but he took his time to break his child’s heart.

“You….It’s your fault. If ….” He stammered; practically spitting the words slowly at his child…his only child.

“If… you just had to…didn’t you?” He pointed at Tim and around him, circling the dress slowly in display.

“Because she was late we had an accident….because you made her late….It’s your fault.”

“NO!!!!” The boy pled through confused tears as grabbed Pat’s ankles. It couldn’t be. And if that wasn’t enough, the worst was yet to come. He tried to hold on, but Pat pried his arms free.

“Daddy….Daddy,” the boy sobbed, but his pleas fell upon deaf ears and eyes that were blind, but not so sightless that he couldn’t see the boy’s face enough through his own angry tears. He slapped Tim on the left cheek; hitting his ear and jaw and sending him sprawling. The boy lay on the porch and sobbed as Pat walked slowly back into the house. It was the first time Pat would hit the boy in that self-absorbed anger of denial and perhaps the worst. Beatings would come, but none so shameful as the first, since striking him in the face was angry enough, but made it a personal dismissal of his only child….

“I made her late…that’s why she died, Mom…it’s all my fault.” Liz had never spoken a word to Hope about the accident itself and she knew immediately where that horrific impression had arisen. She pulled Hope into an embrace before hold her out just enough to look into her eyes.

“I want you to listen, Hope.” She paused to get her thoughts together, but Hope lowered her head. Liz lifted Hope’s chin softly and leaned closer, putting forehead to forehead like she would do with her and Heather. A gesture that was meant to soothe provoked instead as Hope practically snapped; not in anger but in sad shame.

“No….no…”

“It’s not your fault. Your father drove through a red light all because he didn’t want to be late for a meeting…” Liz began to shake and she continued.

“Another Goddamn meeting….He killed my baby.” She began to sob. Hope pulled her close; confused and frightened.

“No, Mommy….no…” Not the sweet endearment from a ‘new’ daughter, but a desperate cry for her mother to stay with her and not retreat like every other time. Liz looked up and spoke haltingly as calm returned to her voice.

“No….I’m….it’s alright….” How could it be alright? One life destroyed by death and the slow deaths of neglect and abuse all for the sake of a man’s pride. She felt misunderstood and repeated herself with a new, never-seen clarity.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Hope….my…my…” She looked at Hope as if she was seeing her daughter for the first time, and in essence she was, since up to then it was her choosing to believe without knowing. But now it was completely different as she really saw Hope as the young woman who had hidden all along.

“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.” She paused and her eyes flashed with anger before her expression softened, but only a little.

“We’re going to see this through. No more….” Hope nodded nervously. Facing down new challenges in the huge changes that had already occurred was one thing. Facing down the idea that both of them were on one side and her father was on the other was another thing entirely, even if it was his idea to make that distinction.

“I….” Hope put her head down.

“No…no more shame. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Liz shook her head and Hope returned the gesture; less emphatic but accompanied by a half-frown. She reached over to the chair on the other side of the bed and grabbed her purse. Opening it up she pulled out a bottle.

“I…I’m so sorry, Mom…..I’m so sorry.” She shook her head again and handed Liz the bottle; cheap Vodka.

“I know….We all have some changing to do, and I guess it starts right now, okay?” Liz opened her purse and produced a similarly shaped bottle. Hope’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m sorry, too, honey.” She pulled Hope into one more embrace as they cried together; perhaps for the first time as mother and daughter. It was a very sad and disturbing reason to begin to cry, but it was the perfect reason to begin to hope that things would finally change.

A few days later, Trinitas Hospital...

“Pastor McKenna?” Pat looked up to see two Cranford Police officers standing at the doorway to his room.

“Yes? Can I help you?” His voice was sullen and dismissive.

“We’re here to serve you with an order to appear….. The doctor explained about your injuries and the judge is giving you leeway. The warrant has the date and time for appearance. We won’t be making an arrest today, obviously, but it would do you well to seek counsel. Officer Jefferson is going to read you your rights, but that will also be repeated at your appearance before your arraignment. I’m sorry to disturb you; we’ll be only a few minutes." The other officer read Pat his rights and handed him the warrant.

“This is ridiculous.” Pat threw the paper and it landed at the foot of the bed.

“You and your attorney may discuss your objections at your appearance. I’m sorry for your injuries,” Officer Raheed said; showing Pat much more respect than he deserved. Pat sat silently as the two left his room. A few moments later there was a soft knock at his door. Liz stepped into the room.

“Are you doing better?” she asked. He smiled and nodded.

“Good,” she said flatly. He completely misread her and spoke.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Liz.” He grinned; not a broad smile but an almost arrogant smirk. She shook her head but agreed; at least in part.

“I have come to my senses, Pat. More than you’ll ever know, I expect.” Liz practically duplicated his expression but for the tears that began to well in her eyes. That old saying almost applied; you’ve got to be cruel to be kind? She wasn’t quite cruel, but it wasn’t an easy thing for either of them to face as she continued.

“You’ve hurt me for the last time, Pat.”

“What, I hurt you…that’s….” She held up her hand and snapped.

“Shut up, Pat…just shut the hell up.” He was so taken aback that it left him speechless for the moment.

“You’ve bullied me….ignored me…. Removed from me almost all the self-respect…” She shook her head and he went to interrupt again.

“No….I gave away my self-respect, but no more. You can’t push me around any longer and you can’t hurt your daughter anymore.” She turned and faced the doorway. Hope stood nervously. It was likely the prettiest and best-dressed she’d ever been in her short, new life, but she had decided to go all in; an effort that wasn’t wasted on Pat because he lapsed into silence as he saw his daughter for the first time.

“I won’t …..” Even with her mother to back her and a new resolve to urge her forward, it almost was too much to bear; that she had to convince her father what was entirely obvious to everyone else.

“Tim?”

“No, Dad…my name is Hope!” Her words were angry and her tears flowed, but she continued.

“You took away my life, Dad…” Understandably, Pat misread her again and spoke.

“I…didn’t know you….”

“No you didn’t, Daddy, but that’s not what I meant.” She reached into her purse and produced the same bottle of Vodka she had displayed only days before to Liz, but it was empty.

“This ….not being a man of God…not being a minister….this is your legacy to me…and this… Oh, and don't worry. We've both stopped. ” She looked back at Liz as she struggled with the words while suppressing needful crying. She dropped the empty bottle on the bed at his feet and reached into her purse, producing the picture of her and Heather; the only picture of Pat’s two daughters.

“Mom told me….you….” she wanted to curse him, but she had struggled all the way over to the hospital. As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she wanted to forgive him even more; not for his sake, but for her need to be free from his tyranny. If she stayed angry at him, then he would win and continue to hold her captive. While she was angry, she was not going to let that rule her words.

“You let me…you….” The thought of the loss was too much for her and she lapsed into sobbing even as she fell onto the bed like a little girl. Liz stepped closer and grabbed Hope’s neck softly and began to massage it; belying her own anger.

“You told her that it was her fault that Heather died? How the fuck could you do that, you bastard? She’s been under so much condemnation from your cruelty to begin with and you went and did that? It was bad enough, but it was your fault, Pat. Yours alone, and you let her believe she ….You killed my baby, Pat…You!!!!”

“No…No….I …I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry….” He pled, but Liz would have none of that.

“I …I know you….didn’t….” She looked down at Hope. The girl continued to sob.

“I’m sorry, Daddy…I’m so sorry….” The girl was still held captive in his arrogant sway. Liz stooped next to the bed and gently tugged Hope’s face in her direction.

“No, honey…you didn’t….please…” She stood up and glared at Pat.

“All we ever wanted to do…all she ever wanted to do was to please you…to make you happy…and you threw it away…all of the love she ever could give to you and you just threw it away like it was garbage. And to make her feel so …. Do you even know what that did to her?” Liz was practically hysterical.

“I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry….” Pat repeated, echoing Hope’s words as girl continued to sob.

“No, Pat…you’re not sorry for what you did…you’re sorry for what you wrought…. You’ve lost every bit of love anyone ever had for you...you wasted it and it hurts, but too bad. You never thought of anyone but yourself and you’re still doing it. I’m sorry….I helped you get where you are, and I hope I can come to the place of forgiveness.”

“You…forgive me?”

“I forgave you a long time ago. I only hope I can earn my daughter’s trust and forgiveness. And I hope I can finally get to the place where…I can forgive…..myself,” she said haltingly through sobs.”

“But…what about us?” Pat completely missed the urgency of Liz’s words.

“There is no ‘us,’ Pat. There hasn’t been for a long time. I’m not sure there ever can be…” Her voice trailed off at the prospect of lost love; rather love almost irretrievable. She stood silent. Hope raised herself out of the bed and stood next to Liz, holding her arm. She faced Pat and spoke.

“I…I forgive you, Dad…. Really.” He looked at her and began to smile in anticipation of another moment purely designed for his benefit. But she shook her head slowly at his expression and spoke.

“I’m sorry, Dad….” She urged Liz slowly toward the door.

“But…but…”

“I don’t hate you, Dad….” She turned and looked at Liz for strength. Liz nodded slowly and Hope finished.

“I love you….like I’m supposed to…but I don’t like you….I hate what I’ve become, and I know that even if I forgive you, I can’t be around you….you hurt us too much, Dad. No more. I love you. Good bye.” She gasped and stifled a sob at the finality of her words before she and Liz walked out of the room.

At the Di Pasquale house, later that evening...

Lina and Noorah were cleaning up the dinner table and Susan and Liz were sitting on the couch, talking. Carlo sat in the rocking chair near the television watching ESPN. And Danny and Hope were sitting on the glider on the front porch. Hope was absentmindedly pushing the glider back and forth with her feet. Danny stood up as if to walk into the house, but turned and offered a hand to Hope. He stepped forward and she stepped back; feeling awkward. He pulled her close.

“I’m so proud of you,” Danny said as he held Hope in his arms; not a ‘loving’ embrace so much as a brotherly embrace, which left Hope feeling uncertain.

“You are so brave….” He paused and searched for words. She looked at him and shook her head.

“I’m not brave, Danny. I’m a coward. I’m an alcoholic. I used people to protect myself. I’m a fucking coward, and you’re blind.” She went to rest her head on his chest but pulled back.

“Look at me. I’m not pretty. I’m not even a girl, Danny. I’m a fucking freak. I’m nobody you need to love…don’t be stupid, okay?”

“But…”

“No, Danny. I’m messed up. I hurt people. It doesn’t matter. Everybody made excuses for my father all these years and what did it do but make it easier to hurt everybody….everybody. And I’m no different. I used people. I used Susan. I even used you.” She began to sob. Danny pulled her close and she pushed his chest with her arms in an attempt to pull away. He held her fast and she began pounding his chest with her fists; not hard but weakly in surrender.

“No. You’re different. You wanted to change and you have. You don’t want to hurt people and you’ve already shown Susan and my family just how much you’ve changed. And if you used me, then I used you, and even more. You didn’t know who you were when we were kids, but I knew who I was and who I wanted. I never told you. I never let you know just how much you meant to me. And….” Danny choked back a sob.

“I never told anyone what I knew about you…how your Dad beat you. How he hurt you. If I had said something maybe…”

“No…I …. I wasn’t….it wasn’t…” She mouthed the last two words and Danny’s eyes flashed with anger; not at her but or her as he repeated aloud what she had just said silently.

“Not worth it? You were always worth it… You deserved to be loved and no one….not even me.”

“But…”

“No..wait…let me finish. I didn’t love you…. I wanted you…I needed you, but if I had loved you I would have done whatever it took to let you know. I was a coward all this time and I let you believe that no one cared. If I had said something then…”

“You don’t know what he would have done…”

“No, Hope…I mean if I had said something to you…We could have done something. But…” He looked away, searching for strength.

“It says….you know this…it says….Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.” She shook her head and went to pull away once again; tears of shame mixed with regret and sadness flowed down her cheeks. He pulled her closer and she had no strength to resist.

“Through all the bad stuff Carlo and me and Susan had to go through, I guess nothing was able to take away our faith. And Dad came around at the end and things made me remember just what I believe.” Another head shake followed quickly by a stroke of hair; leaving Hope feeling both lost and saved at the same time.

“And we always hoped…funny….we wanted to see things differently. I always hoped that God would help me be a better person….to be kind and caring…I hated my Dad for so long for what he did to Susan, but in the end I found that I had to be kind and caring no matter what….” He swallowed and continued.

“And I wanted to be a good boy so that I could be good for you…from the first time we kissed…. I knew you were different….not that what you had been was bad, but that there was so much of you that no one knew but me….”

“No…please.” She winced as her voice cracked. Another reminder of things left undone for too long; not a bad sound, but entirely different than what she had hoped for as a child. He smiled gently at her; the kind of smile that lets you know you’re not as bad as you think you are.

“But most of all, I’ve always loved you. I felt ashamed and awkward and scared, but you made everything go away with a nod and a smile.”

“But I was Tim back then…not me.” She shook her head.

“You’ve always been you. The person I’ve always known…since we were little. I knew you never wanted to be a bad boy….because….” She shook her head again in futile disagreement.

“You weren’t bad….Hope and you were never a boy…not inside.”

“I’m not a girl either, Danny…you’re wasting your time.”

“On you? Never…but you’re right. You’re not a girl.” Her eyes widened in surprise at his quick agreement. As much as she didn’t feel like a girl, she desperately wanted to be accepted that way. His growing smile confused her until he said at last.

“You’re not a girl, Hope…you’re a woman…a beautiful woman.”

“No…no, Danny…stop…”

“What…you’re not beautiful? You can’t tell me what I think, Hope….no one can. We’ve both been through way too much of that for too long. So don’t start now. You’re beautiful to me because …. Just because…and….” He paused, leaving her to shake her head in confusion once again. He lifted her chin slowly and leaned closer.

“You’re mine….mine to hold and care for and cherish….Waste time? I wasted too much time not telling you how I’ve felt, but no more wasting time. You’re beautiful; you’re mine….and I love you.” With that he pulled her close and kissed her; just enough to be romantic and just enough to leave her weeping in his arms in relief. After a few moments she looked up and saw he’d been crying. He smiled at her and she sighed.

“I…love you Danny….I’ve loved you forever….do you really love me?”

“As my Aunt Lina would say, ‘yeppers,” he said and pulled her close for another kiss.

“Yeppers….”

Kudos

Comments

frack me I'm bawling

too dam good.

Bawling is the right word!

I was crying so much I had to change shirts twice reading this!

We the willing, led by the unsure. Have been doing so much with so little for so long,
We are now qualified to do anything with nothing.

Ooih oh my goodnes Drea..what a story

OK I started reading this morning, and wow .a story that references the highlights of my childhood...and even more a character that wanted to be Susan too .
But oh my you really have put us through the mixer...
This is a wonderful story, but an awful tale, and a story of such dreadful self absorbtion and evil...oh my gosh I am just struggling for words.
Thank you Drew for writing this, and thank goodness for giving us love and redemption at the end....a really lovely end..., but oh my, please never give us such a vile vile villain as Pat McKenna ever again.
Thank you and all my love Lucy xxx

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

Thanks!

You've given me a lovely way to spend my day, reading your story. Couldn't think of a better way to spend my time.

Evil In The Name Of God

I'm so glad Pat didn't need a kidney transplant because I was afraid that Hope might have had to be the donor and if anyone didn't deserve to have that obligation thrust upon them it was her.

In the end of both parts of your story happiness came to four people and now I'm going to preach. You really should take the spirit of your story to your own self and forgive yourself for not doing anything wrong. Take the words you have quoted from Madeleine L'Engle and apply them to 'Drea.

And by the way, you owe me several boxes of Kleenex.

In the Name of Love

Comments

frack me I'm bawling

Bawling is the right word!

Ooih oh my goodnes Drea..what a story

Thanks!

Evil In The Name Of God

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