But it was never Kathy.
Jim liked Kathy so much and he respected her more than everyone. Especially more than Kayla. Kathy was so good. No one was as genuinely good as Kathy Randall. Jim saw it the first time he ever spoke to her. That truth never once wavered in all their times together. But crap. She was impossible to tempt or persuade although she didn’t have to work at it, and it didn’t seem to stress or confuse her.
Not like Jim.
So how could he share his doubts, stress, issues, or dark thoughts with her and ask her advice on how to deal with those things? He couldn’t. Kayla, however, allowed him to be imperfect because she saw him that way. That was messed up. He couldn’t fall into that. He shouldn’t find comfort with her, of all people.
Rubbing his eyes, which were aching, he tried to shake the annoying thoughts away. They didn’t matter now. Not here of all times. The waiting room of a hospital where the man who took a bullet for him was receiving emergency surgery.
Kayla rose to join her family who circled around Kathy. They hugged and talked and comforted each other in the glow of familial love.
Whenever they did that, showing their love for each other, Jim was excluded. He didn’t know how to fit in. He never saw a family share affection and love so easily, giving it so unconditionally. It wasn’t something he ever experienced. The intensity of it heightened his discomfort in their presence because he wasn’t included. It made him feel slightly hurt that he was her fiancé but not good enough to be part of the family. But he also knew why he could not join their family. There was no easiness between him and Rob. No friendliness. No back and forth. And Kathy’s mom, Rebecca, wasn’t much better. They exchanged a few painfully polite and formal interactions that left both of them fidgeting nervously and making excuses to get away. No doubt, her parents thought he was odd. He knew they did.
Jim was hyper sensitive to his shortcomings in their eyes, which others might have considered attributes. He invariably retreated into logic when he was with Kathy’s family, which often resulted in them taking what he said too seriously. In his discomfort, he frequently came across as being harsh and judgmental when he was merely trying to make conversation. But with this family, Jim never managed to be successful.
Except with Kayla.
They fought and sparred from the very start. She did not shine a light on his good side or draw out any redeemable personality traits (for he did have some), but she evoked an honesty through his anger and annoyance with her, voicing it bluntly, which he could not do with anyone else. Jim was stiff and awkward with the rest of Kathy’s family but abrasive and confrontational with Kayla. Sometimes he liked to snap at her, taking out what he wanted to do with someone else but for whatever reason, had to refrain. Kayla lived to provoke him. She was a master at pressing buttons. She loved to see people’s reactions, especially Jim’s. He wasn’t wrong about that, and he felt free to react. Perhaps Kayla provided that outlet for him.
Except for this time, Jim was raw and hurting. He felt like he’d been gutted and his innards were left exposed. He needed to take control and realign himself, but he couldn’t find the strength and didn’t have the know-how. Lost and floating, he gazed at Kathy and her family support, thinking how valuable it was right now. For the first time he could remember, he wished they would support him too.
But of course, having never cultivated that kind of emotional reciprocity with anyone, especially not them, he dared not ask for it.
Not even from Kathy.
Jim stayed quiet. His head down, he had no one but himself and no idea what to do. He didn’t know how to respond anymore.
He felt numb or catatonic. How long before that passed? He didn’t know. Staring down at the gray swirls in the linoleum, he wished he were anywhere but there. A hand touched his shoulder, jolting him from the uncomfortable place where he found his dark thoughts.
“Jim?”
Kathy? She came to him. After her family maybe, but at least she came.
He needed to touch someone or something to prove he was still here. Alive. Appreciated. Would anyone have really cared as much if he were the one who got shot? Would they all have cried like they did for Eric? The whole family liked Eric. A lot. Hell, Jim liked Eric a lot. But he did not know how to inspire friendly feelings towards him in others. Not even from his fiancée’s family. Sighing, in his own soul, Jim knew he couldn’t accomplish that.
But Eric could. Jim saw it on Kathy’s face the moment he crashed down.
It only confirmed what he sensed all along.
Grabbing Kathy in a deep, long hug surprised Jim as much as it did her. She became rigid in his arms for a moment, longer than an eager fiancée in love would be. Obviously. He now fully understood that.
“Jim, it’ll be okay.” Her words were soft and meant to comfort him.
But he felt more lost, almost unhinged from the earth and God. That rarely happened. Jim’s faith always carried him through his past crises. Prayer and the right words captured the feeling and connection to his faith that always reassured him. Sometimes, it was the only real connection he had. But it seemed absent now. And that scared him more than anything else.
“Will you come pray with me?” Jim asked, nearly falling to his knees and begging Kathy. He knew it was selfish to ask. The last thing sweet, good Kathy wanted now was to pray with him. No way. She wanted to stay with her family and wait for any news of Eric. Right there to be the first to hear it. Her Eric. The
