Jim stayed busy by centering his attention on the church and his parishioners. Calling several meetings to decide how to move forward, they also issued a press release that offered their condolences. Cleanup continued but the blood stains remained visible no matter what they scrubbed them with. Finally, the decision to rip out the flooring and redo the entire worship room was agreed upon. Along with that came paint and new décor. How better to wipe away the horror that occurred there? All who witnessed the shooting, which unfortunately numbered in the hundreds, were candidates for future PTSD, so Jim thought by stepping in now and shutting it down before they entirely revamped it, he could allow everyone the necessary time to heal. Renewed, refreshed and remodeled; it was a common goal for all to look forward to.
But that left Jim with more time to indulge his errant, wandering thoughts. They vacillated between that Sunday, Kathy and Kayla. Freaking Kayla. He couldn’t get her out of his head no matter how hard he tried to forget her.
Then he decided to concentrate on his next sermon, what to say to everyone. What words could bring some kind of clarity, meaning, and understanding to this horrific event? The perfect words to start the healing. But it wasn’t so easy this time for Jim to find the right words to get there. For the first time, his brain was empty. It had nothing. It wasn’t working. No matter how much he thought about it.
He finally requested some time off. He needed to regroup. Maybe Kathy was right when she told him he suffered from shock and grief too—so no one expected him to lead or counsel others through it. Maybe they could manage to help him find a way.
Days later, Jim drove out to the Randall/Williams house. He hated himself for succumbing to the strange urge he had to go there. Though he and Kathy weren’t meant to be married, how would he know? Maybe they would have turned out all right. But Kathy was his source of comfort. His friend. Her clueless family had no idea they came as close to any family Jim ever had. They were the only family who was not dysfunctional that Jim ever observed. They embodied his ideal picture when he thought of family. Even if they didn’t particularly like him. But there was no better family than theirs, in Jim’s eyes.
Cringing at the truth, which Kayla saw before he did, Jim showed up at their house, his chess board in hand. That was the lame excuse he had when he knocked on the front door. He easily passed through all their fancy security, so his name was still on the approved list at least. Maybe Kathy hadn’t told her parents they broke up yet. It was probably her last concern after the shooting.
Karlee answered the door. A cool kid, her expression didn’t change at finding him there before letting him in. When he asked to see Eric, who was recovering there, rather than Kathy, she waved towards Rob’s former office. Upon entering, Jim found it turned into a temporary hospital room, featuring a rented adjustable hospital bed and all the amenities. Eric’s head was resting against the wall that held Rob’s Grammy. When Jim knocked on the door, his head swung around and to his surprise, he cheered up instantly.
“Oh, thank God, it’s you.”
“Well, okay… not usually the reaction I expect from you.”
Eric flinched then and peeked over Jim’s shoulder. “I thought it was Kathy bringing more oatmeal or soup or her seven-greens salad. She won’t let me eat anything that tastes good. But she feeds me a lot of smaller meals. I might throw up if I eat any more of her diet. I was dreading the next meal.”
Maybe this was why the asshole managed to steal his fiancée. Fun to be around, he could put people at ease, even as introverted and awkward as Jim. Feeling like an idiot while holding the chess board without any invitation, he wondered how Eric would receive him. Seeing how things went with Kathy and all, well, it could have gone much worse.
But hearing his desire to avoid Kathy and her diet made him smile as Jim shut and locked the door behind him. “I brought the chess board, if you’re interested.”
“Interested, yes, but I’ll probably suck at it. I’m not too intelligent, not like you.”
“You’re strategic. You’ve proven that a few times to me, and I think you have the ideal skills to excel at chess.”
“Well, hell… nothing else to do, so why not?”
“Yeah, why not?”
They started the first game and spent three hours playing it. Jim wondered how Eric would take to the game, but once he learned the rules and common strategies, they started playing like a couple of pros. Jim had to concentrate hard. They only discussed different moves or strategies and it wasn’t exactly too competitive yet, since Eric was brand new. Jim glanced at the time.
“I should go.”
“Yeah, it’ll be dinner soon. You best run far and fast before that disaster arrives. I smell things sometimes, like real food, but she refuses to bring me anything good.”
“I’ll bring some snacks the next time I come.” Jim almost winced at his assumption he would be asked to come back. But he kept his expression blank so Eric didn’t realize his gaffe in assuming they’d do this again. Were they becoming friendly? Ha. So lame to think that.
But Jim had no one else. That thought kept slamming into him. Hard. And he found it distinctly distasteful.
“Would you really? Some pop, please. And some candy. Any kind is fine. Oh. And please… come back soon. The chess is fun too. My brain is rotting here. Only so much internet surfing I can handle. Did you know about the photographer and the knitter who collaborated to make the most interesting pictures where the knitter makes sweaters and full outfits to
