© Copyright 2006
by Elizabeth Delayne

Faith That Weeps

Part III

Tyler heard the sound of rain, the hiss of air.

He blinked, stared at the spider web of cracked glass. The air bags had deflated and white fire-retardant gas fell from the vents.

“Tyler, Brad?”

He turned at Tonya’s voice just as Brad brushed glass from his hair, a little dazed. He, too, was just coming to, tiny cuts peppers his face.

“You okay, man?” Tyler asked.

“Yeah–“ Brad shook his head as if to clear it. “Just dealing with it.”

Carrie.

She was his next thought. He turned back, surprised at the pain that ran down his back. She stared at him stunned.

He dealt with the pain, reached back and grasped her knee. “You okay?”

She nodded, probably a little in shock.

“Tonya, Lisa?”

“We’re fine–“ Tonya answered, her face pale. “Ty–I can’t get any reception on my cell.”

“Me either,” Lisa added.

“Well, we can’t stay here,” Brad pushed his door, scattering shards of glass before he stepped out, the wind whipping around him. Tyler watched, disoriented. It took him a few moments to realize that they’d spun around and were on the same side of the road facing the opposite direction.

By then, Brad had walked down the road a piece and returned. He leaned into the car. He was already dripping wet.

“I see a light a few house down,” he looked to the back, “you guys think you can make it?”

“I don’t know, Brad,” Tonya said. “I think I did something to my ankle.”

“We’ll help.”

They all climbed out. Brad came around to the other side to help Lisa and Carrie gather their bags and support Tonya as she slowly drew from the car. Water poured from the sky, as thunder rumbled.

They trudged through wind and rain, Brad on one side of Tonya, Tyler on the other. Lisa walked ahead, her head bent against the rain. Tyler looked up. Enough hurricanes had come through the southern region in the last few years that he knew the danger. Hurricane bands brought tornados, hail. The sky looked dark, menacing. The sound was fierce.

Like something from a bad horror movie.

He grinned a little. He wished Jayce could see this. He would love to be at The Heritage with her tonight, with the wind and the storm. What a story she would weave.

He turned with a grin for Carrie–and saw the look on her face.

He left Tonya limping on with Brad, and stumbled against back toward her. He could still remember the night she’d called him–her father had been in an accident. By the time he’d made it through the storm to the hospital where she waited, her father was gone.

The look in her eyes had been so lost, so weak.

So like it looked right now.

Without speaking, he transferred his laptop from her shoulder to his, then slid his arm around her much as he had with Tonya. Carrie just leaned against him as they walked side by side in the rain. She was trembling, probably not just from the cold.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and felt the edges of his lips left in relief. They were both safe, was all he could think, and they were together. Things could have been so much worse. He said a prayer of thankfulness and drew her closer.

“Oh, we’ll fight, I have no doubt of it,” he said, but leaned back so he could see her eyes, “but not tonight.”

The door to the house ahead opened and a man and woman hurried out, both with umbrellas. Tyler breathed a sigh of relief and raised his eyes to the weeping sky.

* * *

John and Marie Anderson opened their home. Power lines were down and cell phone transmission was weak. They had all contacted anyone they needed to contact and had settled in to wait out the storm.

They were given dry clothes and hot food. The power was out, but John had a generator running to keep the refrigerator and stove working, and once they were dry, he hooked up a few fans. They laughed and talked over dinner, sliding into a comfortable dialogue, brought on by the storm. They knew Carrie’s grandmother, and when the rest slipped into the living room to discuss their project, she stayed behind.

She was wearing a pair of sweats two sizes two big. Her hair was pulled up into a rubber band, but thanks to her new style, it had halfway fallen out. She’d felt vain enough to dig out the only makeup she had in her purse, a two year old wand of mascara. She’d used it, suddenly nervous around Tyler.

He’d been attentive–his eyes cast on her in worry. It bothered her that he was there in her weakness, but not when she was strong, but then remembered Dani’s criticism. It was likely that her enthusiasm for the Heritage had pushed him away.

Maybe she was boring.

Maybe she did need to reevaluate her dreams.

The storm was leveling off by the time she made her way upstairs to the room John and Marie had decorated for their three grandchildren. A pink and cream decorated bunk bed was on one, with a prissy little bed with a tiara-shaped headboard on the other. As she was there first, she climbed up onto the frilly top bunk and pulled the covers over her head.

Then, wide awake, she stared into the darkness. I’m empty, she thought.

I’ve been so empty these last few months, she prayed, then closed her eyes in weariness, or more then that. I turned to Tyler, turned on Tyler and not toward you. You’ve filled me and helped me in the last few months when I haven’t had him ... You’re love is sufficient. I have to believe that.

Still ... I miss him so much and I’m so confused. I have to turn that over to You. I don’t know what happened ... not exactly, and I don’t know what to do.

Minutes later, she was asleep.

She dreamed, she must have, of wind and rain and the heritage, of her ancestor Annabelle Grace Lindsey and the sounds of war. When she woke, the room was dark still, the rain was still falling—gently now, no longer raging with the wind and the storm. By the time displayed on the clock, it was late into the morning.

She climbed down from the bunk and looked at her temporary roommates. Tonya had fallen face first onto the bottom bunk and was dead asleep. Lisa slept on her back, like a poster child for Sleeping Beauty. She looked so peaceful and ... well, beautiful.

She slipped from the room, used the restroom as quietly as she could, then followed the sound of voices to the kitchen.

Carrie paused in the doorway. Tyler sat at the small breakfast table in the dimly lit kitchen, watching Marie Anderson at her stove. Their conversation was friendly, like a son to his mom.

He hadn’t shaved, and looked so ruggedly handsome in his jeans and a borrowed, untucked tee. She swallowed against the sudden rise of feeling. She didn’t know for sure what had happened to them. She just knew she wanted to go back to having him in her life.

With or without the Heritage pulling her down.

She didn’t know what that meant for her, who she’d be without the house, or what her dreams would become. She just knew it couldn’t consume her. If there was any miracle of a chance left for Tyler to come back to her, she couldn’t let the house stand in their way.

At least Dani would be pleased. She hated the house, all that it meant, and all that it drained from them.

Money, time ...

And a great deal of sisterly affection.

Just then Tyler looked over at her. Though he smiled, his eyes were hidden in the shadows of the dim room. He held out a hand to her, silently inviting her into the room, into the conversation, and back into the ease of being with him.

At least for now.

Carrie walked over and took his hand as she sat down in the chair next to him, surprised when he wove his fingers with hers. This was what she wanted. She didn’t know what his relationship with Lisa meant, or what had happened over the last several months. She just knew that this was exactly what she wanted.

* * *

The ease of the morning fell around Tyler like a old, familiar blanket. He’d prayed the night before, turning the situation over to God and asking for the wisdom to see it through. It was all he could do in the darkness of night as the storm raged.

And this time, he hoped he was doing it right.

He’d spent too much time giving God the problem, then letting it slide. It was time he put a little more effort into doing what he was supposed to do, knowing that somewhere in the midst the words were there for him to say.

Time. It would take time. And patience. He hadn’t had enough of either lately.

But one thing he knew, down deep in his heart. Carrie had been a gift to him. Her friendship had flowed like a powerful stream, even from the beginning. They’d fallen into love so easily and tripped into heartbreak without much of a fight on his part.

Tyler figured that God had been patient with him over these last few months, and if that were the case, then he could afford a good bit of patience and time for what mattered most.

First of all, his heavenly relationship.

Then, with Carrie.

So he prayed into the night, staring up into the shifting shadows and listening as the storm passed over leaving a quiet rain behind.

Now they sat in the comfort of the dark living room that was lit by the dim, grey light from outside. As they’d been up first, they’d eaten breakfast before the rest and now sat alone and listened to the muted conversation coming from the throng in the kitchen.

He still held Carrie’s had in his.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said at last.

“So have I.”

He smiled a little. He knew she’d been thinking. She was always thinking about something. “It was what you said, yesterday, up at the house ... about the house.”

“I’m sorry,” she tired to squirm away, but he held on, disturbed at the look of resignation in her gaze. “I do tend to ramble on about the house, the history ... the stuff that drives some people crazy.”

“Why are you sorry about that? I find it quite ... endearing.”

“Dani told me it pushed you away.”

“No,” he sighed. “I love the house, almost as much as you do—because it’s part of who you are, it’s part of so much ... fuel for the imagination. Not just for Jacey.”

Carrie smiled a little. “Did it get a little spooky upstairs last night when the wind started up?”

“I’ve always wondered where Jacey got her stories. Now I have some idea.”

“She’ll be glad to hear that.”

“Anyway,” he shivered a little, remembering the creaks and moans of the old house in the beginnings of the storm. “It wasn’t you. Not in the real scheme of things. We have a few problems. I pushed you away. My laziness pushed me away. It was easy to just not deal with the sudden tension and the problems, then to fact it. To make the time to make it right.”

“You don’t find that I get ... crazy over the house?”

“No. I’ve never known you to be crazy,” he slid his arm around her and drew her close. “In fact, let me tell you what I noticed last night when we were talking with the Andersons. They’ve lived here their entire lives. For you and your family to restore the old house, continue to live in it and make it a home as well as a central part of the community, is important to them. It’s important to the community. It’s part of who you are. I love that part of you.”

“I was getting to be so ... tedious.”

“It was your focus for awhile when your father died. I don’t think any one thing should ever have control of our lives ... but we all make mistakes—and I made several. If the house was controlling you, then school was suddenly controlling me. I was getting lazy ... we weren’t talking. I didn’t put the time and effort into what we have. I told myself I could do it later, would do it later.”

“You said you couldn’t deal with me anymore.”

“No,” he reached out and lifted her chin with a gentle finger, “I couldn’t deal with the mess anymore, and knowing I had made the mess in pushing it all back and out of the way.”

He shook his head. “Anyway, back to what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday, to what you were saying about the Heritage. You know the stories of the good and the ugly, the inspiring and the repulsive. Still, there’s a legacy ... and it’s a lot like what a relationship is.

There will be dark parts that we don’t want anyone to know about, parts we’ll drudge through. Every relationship has them. But there will be good times to celebrate, joy and hope, memories ... all of that. We’ve been through a dark period, but I have to believe there’s more for us. We’ve had so many of the good parts already.”

“And Lisa?”

“What about Lisa?”

“Wasn’t there something between the two of you?”

“A project and far too much time in the same room. As far as I’m concerned, you never stopped being my girlfriend.”

She grinned over the silliness of the word girlfriend. “Really?”

“For an almost Doctor of History, you’re having a hard time dealing with facts.”

“I’m just an investigator at heart.”

“Hey–“ Lisa stood in the doorway, her hand on the hip of the borrowed pair of sweats. “Where have you guys been? Our ride’s here. You going to get ready or something?”

“Or something,” Tyler said, and as Lisa headed upstairs, he turned back to Carrie. “Ready?”

She smiled. “I’ve been ready for you my entire life.”

* * *

They’d driven back up to the Heritage later in the afternoon with her older sister to see what damage the storm had brought. They inspected windows and what they could of the roof, and breathed a sigh of relief when they found the structure intact.

Especially the second floor window. Carrie checked it herself. She stood at the window, overlooking what had been the gardens and traced the etching of glass.

My beloved Elijah.

The fragile glass ... the fragile memory ... was still safe, and still part of the old house.

She walked out and went outside to find Tyler. He slid his arm around her as they stood on the damp ground and stared up at the old house.

Dani was in the back, checking the space around the old garden. Carrie shifted her feet in the wet leaves, as they waited, looking out over the mess they had to clean up. Limbs littered the yard, a tree was down at the edge of the wood, but the house was still standing strong.

A legacy, she thought, remembering what Tyler had said. Still standing.

One day it would be restored. The grounds would look fresh and alive. She could almost see it, had always been able to see it—the beauty, the power. People would come, to see the antiques and paintings, hear about the history of the wallpaper and design, study in the library, and hear the stories.

And wonder about Annabelle Grace.

One day.

She just had to believe. She just had to have faith.

Right now, she had her own legacy to build. She looked up at Tyler, found his eyes on hers, and smiled.

HEY! and don't forget to e-mail me if you have a comment!







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