Page 104 of At Her Will

“No need to babysit me, Mistress. I be all right with her. I can see her heart, same as you.”

She trusted his take on it, but she still kept her eye on them. They sat caddy corner to one another on the dock benches, Rev listening while Cyn spoke. When he responded, she had a thoughtful air, but not a tense or unhappy one.

“She’s gone from evaluating him on your behalf, to accepting and wanting to understand him better,” Abby said. “It’s a good sign.”

“I always hope we don’t put them through too much to be part of this inner circle, but…”

“But they wouldn’t be who we want, if they didn’t embrace and meet the challenge.”

Abby pressed against Vera’s shoulder. The wind through the screened window lifted her hair, blowing it against her delicate cheek. Abby’s unearthly beauty sometimes added to Ros’s constant worry about losing her.

She looks like an angel who took a wrong turn and ended up here.

That worry had fortunately lessened, thanks to Neil and Dr. Maureen Whisnant, Abby’s wonderful psychiatrist and a fast friend of the TRA group.

“How do you do it, Abby?” Vera said, watching Rev. “Love Neil so much and not lose your mind worrying about him being where so many bad things could happen to him?”

“I’ve already lost my mind. Got the certificate and everything. So that box has been checked.” Abby slipped her arm through Vera’s. “Seriously, having practice dealing with unpredictability helps. I have superhero crisis coping skills. And what’s the alternative? Not love someone who’s offering me every part of himself? He’s the person who made me want to keep breathing, living, and dealing with all the bad shit in my head.”

She looked at Neil, who was having one of his quiet moments, leaning on the dock rail and gazing out at the water. Feeling her regard, the tall man glanced over his shoulder and gave her a half-smile, his slate-colored eyes fixed upon her.

“Makes my knees weak, every time,” she murmured, and shook her head. “When I let go of the fear and guilt about inflicting my crazy on him, I gained a new truth, and that truth was that he wanted to be with me through everything. He feels that desire and need as much as I do. The few minutes of peace and joy I have with him, whenever the world gives me that break, has proven to be enough to make it all worth it. Something I never would have believed before I experienced it.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Doesn’t hurt that he’s terrific eye candy, gives me fabulous orgasms, and is willing to care for me in whatever way I need.”

“Yeah, there’s that.”

Cyn rose. She put a brief hand on Rev’s shoulder and said something. From the softening of Cyn’s face, Vera thought she’d said something about the school shooting. Whatever it was helped, because it showed in his expression.

Cyn joined Mick, sitting in a deck chair, his feet braced on the unlit fire pit. Lawrence and Ros sat across from him. Cyn took the chair at Mick’s side.

Rev got up and moved down the ramp to the floating dock where Neil kept his boat tied. He gazed out at the water, his shoulders set.

Because she’d stood at that spot at other dinners, she knew the flowing current would mute the sounds of land. Facing the water at night, a person could imagine they were alone, except for the whispering cypress trees and pines, and the occasional splash as fish jumped, or frogs or alligators entered or left the water.

Rev would be listening to those sounds echoing through the open space between sky and water, the movement of the water a constant.

He’d be thinking about Mrs. Cuddy, Craig and the kids. Or the people at Laurel Grove he’d seen today. The weary but persistent staff and volunteers, the kids and mothers, the lonely teen with his music player, the little girl wanting a father to share a meal with. So many bruised and battered bodies and souls.

Was she so connected to him after such a short time, that her soul could reach out and feel all that from him? Understand how the most spiritually connected person could feel overwhelmed by all of it, not know what to tell someone seeking counsel on how to make sense of it? How not to abandon caring, giving and offering whatever was needed?

She didn’t know what he’d told Cyn, but her expression was more serene than usual. She was listening to a conversation between Ros and Mick, but then they stopped, their attention going toward the floating dock.

Tiger and Neil paused, and Skye turned around, straddling the rail, her sneakers propped on the bottom railing.

Rev was singing. He’d started out low, the melody drifting over the bayou. As his tone gained in volume, she recognized it.

“Jesus Loves Me.”

She left the kitchen and crossed the deck, the eyes of the others on her as she followed the narrow dock out to the boat ramp, her footsteps quiet on the boards. When she reached his side, she laid her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her, smoothing her skirt over her hip.

As his voice rose, she looked at the tops of the trees, where roosting birds would hear the notes. The song spread outward as well, into all the dark, moist corners where life was born, lived and struggled to survive. She thought it would soothe and elevate all who heard it. God, the Lord and Lady, every face of the Divine, had to be smiling.

When he finished, she stayed silent, waiting for the last echoing note to melt into the moving water, blowing wind, the ears of frogs and other nighttime creatures. She wiped away the tears on his cheeks, the heat and dampness of them a sacred anointing she felt deep inside.

“Why that song?” she asked.

“A little girl sung it to me today, to show me she knew a ‘Jesus’ song. She told me when her daddy pushed her down the steps and she broke her leg, she sung that to her momma in the hospital, so her momma wouldn’t cry so much. Said her momma sung it with her and promised she wasn’t going to let no one hurt her no more. Now her momma has a job, and they going to a new apartment next week, a real home where there’s no yelling or hurting. She says she thinks Jesus made that happen, because of her singing that song.”

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