too-cool skin. “See you later, hon.”
He should say more. Something more. The one who wrestled with words for a living—and usually won—had none.
A spot of warm. And I’m so cold. So cold. Bring it back. Please.
Bring that kiss of warmth back. Comfortable. No.
Comforting.
That’s the word. Can you hear me?
“I insist, Catherine. You and Dad take this next visit. I can wait.” He’d detoured to the restroom before joining Karin’s parents, but their looks told him he hadn’t done a good job of masking his grief.
His mother-in-law linked her hands and pressed the tangle of fingers into her middle. “Josiah.”
“Only two at a time at the most. Rules.” He motioned toward the Visitor Guidelines posters hung around the waiting room.
Catherine looked at her husband, her troubled face a mirror of his. “No, we couldn’t take your place.”
Take Josiah’s place? Someone already had.
Stepped on a mine. Boom. Debris flying everywhere.
Where was he, The Betrayer? He didn’t deserve attention. But could Josiah call himself a God-follower, a devotee of the Guy Who Invented Compassion, and not wonder if Slick had survived the crash? The word justice flashed through his mind. Could justice and mercy cohabitate?
“. . . dear?”
“What? I’m sorry, Mom. What did you say?”
Stan’s hand felt solid and strong on Josiah’s shoulder. “Son, we’ll get through this. Gum?”
Gum? Stan’s answer? Your life is falling apart? Here. Have a piece of gum. “No thanks.”
“Take it.” Stan pressed a stick of spearmint into Josiah’s hand. “Please.”
Ah. Sparked by the lack of a toothbrush as opposed to a cure-all for misery. Josiah peeled back the protective paper. “Got anything in a manly deodorant?”
“Son, you should go home for a bit.” Catherine’s words floated on a current of grace, as always.
“I should shower. And check the mail.”
“No need,” Stan said with characteristic minimalism. “It’s Sunday.”
The Lord’s Day. Good timing, Karin.
Stan cleared his throat. “Let me clarify. No mail today, but a shower? Great idea.”
These people loved him enough to point out his halitosis and body odor. They loved him. Had Karin told them about Slick? Had she told anyone?
The geometric design on the plum couches and chairs animated. The lines and angles swam, their gold threads snaking through his visual field.
He’d lost his focus. He couldn’t follow a conversation, stick to his personal drama’s main plotline, finish a thought.
“You two go in at the top of the hour. I’ll go home and—” What? He’d do what? “I’ll pull a few things together.”
“Take your time, Josiah,” Catherine said, her eyes pale sequins of pain. “You probably need to breathe some fresh air, no matter how cold it is. We’ll be here.”
And they would. Dependable as the phases of the moon. Rock solid. Was Karin’s unfaithfulness a greater offense against him, her imperfect husband, or against them?
The maze of hospital corridors held him captive. Clutching a limp list of what he might have at one time thought essentials, Josiah maneuvered the labyrinth like a blind person without a guide dog.
Dog.
Sandi! How long since he’d let Sandi out? Had he remembered to do so before he left for the hospital? Josiah glanced at his feet. He didn’t remember having stopped for shoes. But there they were.
He slid his cell phone from his pocket. Who could he call to check on Sandi? Sure, he was headed home, but in the time it took him to drive there, she could get pretty miserable. Or relieved. He had no heart to clean up after her.
What time was it? Most of their friends were at church, singing their hearts out, nodding and amening. Let them. He’d have to call someone not in church. How many heathens did he know? Only Morris. Doubtful he’d hop a plane to do a favor for his favorite client.
A lit sign marked Exit called to him.
Exit. Good idea.
“How is she?”
“What? Oh, Leah. What are you doing here?” Everything was off axis. He hadn’t told anyone about the accident except Karin’s parents and that quick voice mail to Morris. How did Leah find out? “I’m sorry.” It might work in the movies, but shaking his head did nothing to clear his thoughts. “She’s in intensive care. Hey, thanks for coming, but only family can visit. I’ll let you know when she’s well enough to—”
“You pompous—!” Leah freed one hand from the load she carried and punched Josiah’s shoulder so hard he stumbled backward.
Was she insane? “Get a grip, Leah. My wife’s fighting for her life!”
“My husband lost his. And it’s Karin’s fault. Or yours.” She blinked back tears and fought to stop the quiver in her chin.
“What are you saying? Wade’s dead?”
“You’re as naive as you are pompous, Josiah. Who do you think was driving your wife’s car?” Her words sounded more difficult to squeeze out than the last smear of toothpaste. “With an unsent text on his phone. ‘Josiah, I’m taking Karin—’ And her suitcase in the backseat.”
“You’re not making any sense. Where would they have been going?” Josiah caught sight of a hospital security officer approaching from behind Leah and lowered his voice. “Leah, I’m so sorry for your loss. But I don’t understand what Karin—”
“You tell me where they were headed. He wasn’t taking her home.” Her anger seemed spent. It faded as disbelief and grief swallowed them both.
Josiah lifted his chin toward the security officer and put his arm around Leah. She didn’t resist. The officer halted his approach and stepped to the desk but didn’t stop watching. “This is such a mess,” Josiah said, gesturing toward a conversation area not far from the exit that had seemed so appealing moments earlier. “I can’t make sense of any of it. What do you mean that Wade wasn’t bringing Karin home?”
She pulled back, a look of incredulity
