Good Courage ~ Part II

'Yet, if I speak, my pain is not relieved 

and if I refrain, it does not go away.'

~Job 16:6~

          “Kate?” Bran called after his second bell ring. He had texted her, so she knew they’d be bringing dinner. Paula had opted out of the ice cream, so they had picked up Cajun, Kate’s favorite. Bran didn’t do take-out on weeknights (even Fridays), but he’d made an exception. They had been at the precinct longer then anticipated, just barely missing the six ‘o’clock gridlock to reach Kate’s apartment in Hempstead. They would be here awhile before any of the traffic eased up, but that was the routine the three of them had fallen into- some dinners were at Kate’s, the others were at Bran’s place at Melrose.

            “It’s getting cold!” Paula hollered through the door. Another few seconds and the deadbolts came undone. Bran’s mood lifted at Kate’s chestnut hair, crazy and curly in a bun. She opened the door, smiling and zipping her jacket over her bright green top. She’d been working out; that translated to a stressful day for everyone.

            “Hi, sweet stuff.” Bran leaned in and stole a kiss before presenting the food.

            “Hi, Aunt Kate.” Paula darted between them for the kitchen.

            “Back at you, Speed Racer.” Kate called after her. Her eyes, dark and blue and gorgeous, went back to Bran. Like her kiss, they were being distant. Bran rustled his take-out bags awkwardly. “You get my messages?”

            Kate closed the door and rubbed her arms up and down. “I got a lot of messages today. From you… from Magnus.”

            “Wh-“ Bran stopped before he walked into the kitchen. He turned his back so as not to catch Paula’s attention. “What’re you talking about?”

            Kate already had her phone out and her voicemail on. “Hello, Kate. Thought I’d lost you there for while. Make sure Bran knows that my offer is still good.”

            Bran had to lean a shoulder on the wall to hold himself together. “You had your number changed.”

            “Yes, I did.” Kate stated, her voice tight. “But what’s that to a mob hit man.”

Kate beeped it off, then scrolled to her photos. She showed him three that had a dead rat in them. Bran didn’t want to ask.

            “On the floor of my passenger seat.” Kate rubbed the corner of her phone to her temple. “Wanna guess who put it there?”

            No wonder she had been working out. Bran prayed for his thoughts to slow down enough to look his fiancé over. “You’re okay, right?”

            Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Okay? Really Bran?”

            Okay. Bran handed her her meal and walked with her into the kitchen. Kate went over to the sink while Bran tapped Paula’s shoulder as she ate at the table. “How about you try some TV with that?”

            Paula looked at him through a bite of spiced pork. “I’m twelve, not two. I’m not going to have nightmares if you talk about it in front of me.”

            Bran had to smile at her as he leaned down. “Do I ever keep you out of the loop?”

            Paula sighed, blowing up her blonde bangs dramatically. She gathered her carton and left the kitchen for the living room. Bran sent her off with a high-five; his way of encouraging them both. When we sit and when we stand… I hope she sees it all, Lord.

            Paula was no stranger to his faith, nor that of her grandparents. But when Bran gained custody of her, she learned quick that God was an all day, every day thing… not just Christmas and Easter. So far, she had been a tough customer on the idea.  Right now though, Bran couldn’t blame her.

            Once the canned drone of a sitcom could be heard, Kate opened her bag of food, only to stare at its contents. “You- have any idea how scared I was?”

            Bran came up behind her and pressed a kiss into her hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

            “No, you were busy keeping Paula and yourself safe.” Kate pushed his hands down and opened her cartons. Bran was taken aback by the pain in her voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what more I can say.”

            “I’m not angry with you for not being there.” Kate turned, her eyes searching his face. “I went to the police station, filed a report. One of the many… many…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Bran. You said that this would all go away.”

            “I know.” Bran wrecked his brain for more encouraging words then that. Kate threw her arms out, like she couldn’t figure out what else to do. “We postponed our wedding so Paula could get adjusted-“

            “What else was I supposed to do?” Bran lowered his voice. “My brother was dead and she needed me. I needed to figure out how to be a father.”

“And then we needed to wait for the settlement to come through,” Kate breathed heavier, fighting tears. “And now, these threats-“

Bran moved toward her, but Kate held a hand up to stop him. “It gets worse with each month, Bran.” She closed her eyes, but he could still see the struggle across her face. “Where does it end? With whoever’s dead first?”

“Hey!” Bran grabbed her hand, eyes reminding her that Paula might hear. She had already been through so much- watching her father spiral out of control from drug addiction, seeing him keep the books for the Irish mob… he had always wanted to create something apart from all that for her. He believed his marriage to Kate would help with that. They both loved her. But something had kept getting in the way…

“I called Detective Lument.” Bran told her. “A warrant has been issued for Magnus’ arrest-“

Kate shook her head. “One of his connections will post his bail, say he was them, and you know he’s going to retaliate. That could be what he wanted all along, an excuse to come after you.”

Bran rubbed his eyes, She could be right. He didn’t know why Magnus didn’t leave them alone; nothing could be proven about Simon’s death. Paula- thank God- hadn’t witnessed it, any evidence the prosecutor had brought forth was circumstantial. Yet Magnus’ offer of a settlement before the judge had said enough. He’d made a snide comment about Paula’s college fund when handing the check over.

“It’s not your fault.” Kate’s fingers worked around her engagement ring, back and forth out of the lighting. “Bran, you need to know that I know that. But… I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t,” Kate moved the ring up her finger. “I can’t keep up this stance of praying and believing that God’s going to work it all out.”

Bran’s ears were burning, eyes on the ring. “He will. Kate-“

She slid the ring off completely, tears falling down her cheeks. “I admire that you can say that. But I can’t.”

What was happening?

“You don’t have to say it.” Bran throat thickened. “I’ll believe it for us both.”

“It’s more then believing, Bran.” Kate shrugged helplessly. “I should have been planning my wedding a year ago; I should be planning it now! Instead, I’m having to be wary of people trying to kill me!”

“They won’t.” Bran pushed the ring back to her, flashing back to the night he had knelt, asked her to marry him. And her smile as she’d said yes. She said yes, Lord! She wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t mean it!

“You don’t know that.” Kate shook her head, still holding the ring.. “Bran, I want to get married- have kids and work here in the city-“

“And retire to Louisiana.” Bran finished, grabbing her arms. “Kate, we’re going to do that! God’s going to pull us through and once we’re on the other side of this…”

He left the sentence open, unable to speak of all the dreams they’d talked about, that he’d imagined when laying awake at night. She couldn’t be saying this, not after all the court dates she’d held his hand through. Not with what she meant to Paula. She wasn’t the type of person to walk away from that.

“I’m sorry,” Kate managed to break free and close his fingers over the engagement ring. “You don’t deserve this, but we’ve always been honest-“

“Kate… please.” Bran just stared at his hand, not comprehending. “We love each other, we can get through this.”

He needed to give her something, tell her something concrete- Words, Lord! I need words!

But none were coming to him. Kate covered her hand over his, wiping at her eyes with the other. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to hurt you.”

Hurt? Try devastate! Bran backed up, his breathing short and the kitchen spinning.  Why are You doing this, God? Hasn’t enough been ripped away from us? From me?

How was he going to tell Paula? It wasn’t even getting through to himself.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

            “Can’t believe I ever called her Aunt Kate!” Paula slammed the door- almost on Bran’s back. He doubted he would’ve felt it.

            “Go easy.”  He cautioned, his brain on autopilot. He needed to get Paula through homework, bath, and bed. Then his emotions could take over. He locked the door and walked into the apartment. Paula followed. “Aren’t you even mad, Uncle Bran?”

            “Paula,” Bran blew his breath out slowly. “Not tonight. We just need to get to tomorrow. I’ll be thinking more clearly then. Start your homework.”

            “It’s Friday.” Paula reminded him, dumping her backpack in the closet.

            Bran nodded. “Right.”

            He walked into the living room with his briefcase and coat, trying not to linger on any one object. He had expected Kate to be his wife and moved in by the new year. How many times had they snuggled on the couch, thrown decorating ideas around?

            She wanted to have kids with me. Kids with my chin and her hair.

            He started as Paula wrapped her arms around his waist. “You can pick the movie tonight.”

            “Sounds good.” Bran said, hardly caring. But he would welcome the distraction.

After they changed into sweats and jammies, Bran popped in Jurassic Park. The phone rang, he didn’t answer it, and neither of them suggested popcorn. Bran just watched the dinosaurs eat everything, the characters talk about nothing, and Paula’s odd laugh at the lawyer’s death. Toward the scene with the brontosauruses, Paula scooted over and laid her head on Bran’s lap. Something she hadn’t done since she was eight and had stayed for a week over Christmas. That was the only time that Bran and his parents had been guaranteed to see her. Simon would show up every Christmas, or one summer day or on a wet March weekend… whenever his money had gotten too low.

“I’m sorry that Kate doesn’t want to get married.” Paula offered over the noise of the movie. Bran let out his breath slowly. “It’s not that simple.”

The movie played out for another minute or two. Then Paula shifted, finding Bran’s hand. “I wanted you as my dad. When Dad took me to those crack houses… I still smell the rooms sometimes.”

            Bran put an arm over his niece, an old anger at his brother rising. Their childhood had been wrestling matches and pranks in Sunday school. Good at math and sports, they had had the grades to get into college. But then, Simon got Paula’s mother pregnant- the same year that Bran had met Donna, his first wife. He married her when Paula was three, when her mother had had her first relapse with cocaine. Bran couldn’t say when she got Simon into drugs; or rather the people who distributed them. But it was early enough for Paula to know about and see it. The world that her mother had disappeared into… and the one Simon kept returning to.

            “If I closed my eyes,” Paula watched the screen, but her fingers squeezed Bran’s hand like a stress ball. “I pretended that you and Donna were my parents.” Her voice went lower. “That Zach was my brother.”

            Seven years and that name could still steal his breath. Bran swallowed. “You shouldn’t have had to feel that way.”

            But there were lots of things that they shouldn’t have had to feel. Bran shouldn’t have had to feel the loss of his wife and son in childbirth. His parents shouldn’t have to bear the murder of their own son. Nor fear for the stalking of their other son and granddaughter.

            “Does that make me bad?” Paula asked hesitantly.

Bran pulled her closer. “No, it makes you human; a kid. Exactly what you need to be.”

            Bran tilted his head back, like it might relieve the tension twisting his chest. Lord, give me something here. The pit’s opening again and I’d like to fall into it right now.

            Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

            Joshua. Ok, that was something. It was small, but the person who had spoken it, wasn’t. Bran repeated the verse to himself- among others- until the credits rolled and Paula was asleep. Bran picked her up, giving her an extra tuck as he put her to bed. He held onto what courage was left until he closed his own bedroom door. Then he sagged against it and cried.

~To Be Continued~