He knew how to do that. Jim was a natural spiritual advisor and born leader. He visited families in need at hospitals or even in their homes. He prayed with them and for them. He guided many of them through terrible situations, including terminal cases, unexpected illnesses, accidents and death. He prayed with a family who learned their son was a child molester, convicted to prison. Their horror and distress occupied many of his evenings, and he generously advised them with counsel and prayer.
But this time, when so many seemed to need him the most, especially his fiancée who appeared too stunned to move, Jim was speechless. No words came to him.
He was physically fine. But not otherwise. The overwhelming need to hold someone and feel a human connection obsessed him. Warmth. Life. It was so rare for him to have the desire to hug another.
A paramedic was speaking to Kathy, and Jim went closer to hear the woman ask to check her out. Kathy was still in shock and she instantly refused. Jim begged her to take their recommendation by promising to do the same.
He thought of the lost souls gathered on the fringe of the church, instead of being in the worship room. He looked at those conducting the investigation, and the subsequent cleanup. He winced. They would have to hire someone to clean.
What to do now? He should be taking the lead. But instead, he just followed Kathy into an SUV with black-tinted windows that Rob Williams used for security reasons. They drove to the hospital and awaited Eric’s initial diagnosis. Jim thought about leaning over and taking Kathy’s hand to reassure her that he was sure Eric’s injuries weren’t life-threatening. Kathy stared out the window, her body almost frigid as she seemed to recoil into herself. She never looked around, or at Jim, and never said a word. He sighed and waited it out. He quit trying to know what to do and just be. Doing what he wanted. It was too much for him to follow the usual social norms.
Finally, they pulled into the hospital parking lot and were directed to the waiting room for any news of Eric. Rob’s security entered in front and behind him. They were extra tight, and for once, Jim was relieved for that.
Dating the stepdaughter of a rock star was hard. It might have been pleasant for others, but not for him. There were constant interruptions. Sometimes Kathy got recognized and strangers would stop and bother them at dinner. That triggered her various bodyguards to react. Always a bodyguard. Jim resented them and found them intrusive and bothersome. But being with Kathy meant being surrounded by her security. It was a deal-breaker, and there was no Kathy without them. Rob’s lifestyle drew too much attention to his family, and the what-ifs kept Rob and Rebecca paranoid about constantly tightening the security.
Look how right he was. Jim was ashamed he failed to realize it until a bullet flew straight at him. And Kathy’s bodyguard leapt in front of the bullet to protect him. Jim never felt worse about being so wrong or so ashamed of his own short-sightedness. He was naïve to think the bodyguards were dispensable and never conceived how much risk they undertook. He would never complain about his privacy being intruded upon again.
Never mind that Eric James was the only one that Jim liked out of the bunch. Eric was easy to be around. Calm, cool, funny and he made Kathy relax. There was a distinct difference in Kathy when Eric was near.
Jim noticed it awhile ago. Without diving deeply into what it might mean or fully defining it, Jim simply ignored it like anything else he considered too rooted in emotional ambiguity or confusion. Jim preferred to read books, scripture, science, and all the things that were based on facts and logic. Even faith for him was logical. That set of beliefs never changed. Meanwhile, human emotions switched from breakfast to lunch and then back again before dinner. That was what Jim couldn’t handle.
They waited. Kathy paced and spoke softly to her family. Jim glanced sharply to his right when a body thudded down in the chair beside him.
Damn it. Not anyone he needed to see right now.
Kayla.
“You okay?”
He snorted as he gave her a side-glare, feeling a bit of a relief to do so. If any other warm body sat down beside him, he’d have given them a reserved, kind smile and said yes.
Even Kathy.
But Kayla? With her, he didn’t have to do that.
He had no idea why. He just didn’t.
Snarling, he said, “No. I was almost shot today. And another man is in the hospital because of me.”
Kayla rarely said anything kind or friendly or sympathetic to him so when she simply nodded and said, “I’m sorry. That was horrifying. For all of us. But you, especially, facing the shooter, and… You saw him?”
“Every blessed moment.”
“Yeah. I feared that.” She didn’t try to smooth it over or fix it. Instead, her expression twisted her mouth with concern, and she just sat there. Beside him as if she expected nothing. Not a damn thing from him. Not even a prayer. Or advice. Or an ambiguous statement to explain the unexplainable. No comforting words. No sympathetic aphorisms. Nothing. Kayla didn’t want those things from him.
And because she did not want any of those things, it was the first time in a very long time that Jim had to get those things from someone else.
He hated himself for his weakness.
Jerking to attention, and suddenly acting like a rod was rammed into his spine, Jim stood. No. He couldn’t be comforted by Kayla. It should have been Kathy.
