She wanted to convince him he was still as pure as the driven snow. But right now, all she sensed was to keep her hands off his body. He was going through something profoundly challenging and needed more space. He wasn’t ready for her to convince him otherwise. She would show him how normal, healthy and good things were between them. She would, she vowed. After he got through this initial shock.
What he told her was alarming, but not the way he believed. She sorted out all the details and context. She picked one thing, the most important thing she could address right here and now.
“Jim, look into my eyes.”
His nostrils flared and his eyelids blinked rapidly. He swallowed and finally tilted his head up to her gaze. “My eyes are not full of disgust. Okay? If you look closely, you can see the sympathy for the boy you once were. For the terrible things you endured, the neglect and abandonment and the rejection. In seeking comfort and a sense of belonging, you became a pastor, which saved you from a dark path. I really believe that.” She kept her gaze pinned on him as she added, “But being a pastor cannot save your soul. Okay? There is nothing wrong with your soul. There never was. Yours is a perfectly ordinary, run of the mill, normal soul. Just like mine. Or Kathy’s. Or Eric’s. All humans make mistakes, your bad thoughts are neutralized by good ones and when you do kind, wonderful things. Your soul, the most innermost part of you, is not damaged or dark or lacking redemption. Do you hear me? See? My eyes are clear and I’m looking right at you and telling you the truth.”
He tilted his head and studied her face closely. Her eyes. Was he still searching for lies? Reading between the lines? His ancient belief that he was born bad and the Zavarians’ reaction to his father’s intrusive visit were the only barometer he had to gauge his value and worth. His sense of righteousness was inextricably tied to his early moral support, which made him think he was bad and perverted.
And then sex entered his life. It was normal for a young person, but Jim spent the last nine years or more trying to undo his past and redeem himself. Kathy was only a venue for him to do that with. It was pretty sad and pathetic. Heartbreaking.
“When did the alcohol start?”
“When I was a boy, I’d find it inside the rooms at the commune. I liked feeling dizzy and walking around like a sailor on a rocking boat. I had to be good though so I tried to stop completely.”
“Like with sex?”
“Yes.”
Right. That made sense in his screwed-up logic and linear way of thinking.
“It didn’t work though?”
“No. Not often enough. Sometimes, I’d just drink alone after I’d lock my door and shut the drapes because it wasn’t like having sex since no one else was involved. Just me. And after I did it, that was the end of the craving. Sometimes. Otherwise, I stayed sober and rarely drank.”
And he wasn’t sure if he were an alcoholic. Neither was she now.
Her head hurt from listening to his long story and the drama involved in it. The chaos in his brain was soothed only by God and his religion and his practice of it. The paths of right and wrong were so well defined that she could see why the linear, sensible nature of Jim’s mind found serenity. Deprived of any healthy relationships and proper examples of family, Jim was smart enough to recognize it when he saw it.
But he was stilted, awkward and totally off when he tried to apply himself emotionally in a real-life situation.
Like with her.
He could not deny the chemistry between them.
“And Jimmy showed up? What happened?”
“He came in and explained how he found me. Some garbage about this and that. Whatever he’d been up to, but the bottom line is he wants money and my public endorsement of him or he’ll spill all the things he knows about me. Lies. Most of it. Others maybe not. He found some land near Index where he plans to start his new ‘church.’” Jim shuddered at the word church.
“You can’t give him any money or endorse him.”
“No. Of course not. I’ll have to let him go through with his threat.”
“That’s why you were holed up getting drunk.”
He sniffed and nodded. She doubted he explained his actions, thoughts or deeds out loud too often. Simply because there had never been anyone to talk to besides her.
Kayla didn’t know what the fuck to do now. The solution overwhelmed her and her stomach knotted. She feared handling this wrong could send him into a dark place where she might find it hard to extract him from. Jimmy was a stubborn monster that would plague Jim forever if he could. Kayla had no answer. The town, the church, and his congregation did not need any exposure to Jimmy and his vile lifestyle. It had nothing to do with Jim Zavarian.
She touched his arm. “You don’t deserve whatever Jimmy plans to do to you. Understand that. You are not him. Your blood does not belong to a monster like him. You’re the opposite; you have a deep conscience and your sense of right or wrong is unparalleled. Something you developed all by yourself, living alone in the woods with no more than your books and alcohol. See that, Jim. You are nothing like him.”
He grabbed her and buried his face against her shoulder. She sucked in a breath and tears filled her eyes, hugging him back, and gripping him long and hard. She let him lean against her, rubbing, soothing and hoping to ease this moment for him.
So much was swirling in her brain. Way beyond her estimate of what the problem was. It was so much bigger and far-reaching than she could
