Fireproof (25 page)
When she awakened again, she wasn't sure how much time had passed. A door clicked. With one hand clutched around her pillow, she opened her eyes.
“Hi,” Caleb whispered.
What did he want now?
She turned and saw her husband approach the bedside with a Chick-fil-A bag in one hand, and a to-go cup in the other. He opened the bag and set its contents on the nightstand.
“Uh, can you sit up for me?”
“Yeah.”
She watched his movements with sleepy eyes, trying to convey annoyance, but not putting much effort into it. She heard concern in his voice, and the truth was, his attention felt good. It fed something in her that had been dying.
She pulled herself up, supported by the pillows. Her hair was back in a ponytail, a few stray strands in her face, and she hadn't touched up her makeup since yesterday.
So, it all came down to him just doing his jobâ
“in sickness
and in health.”
Still, it felt nice.
Catherine gazed up, expecting to see a dull sense of duty in Caleb's green eyes. As she did, he leaned over and touched her forehead with the back of his hand. Their eyes metâtruly metâfor the first time in weeks. He wasn't looking past her, or simply at her . . .
He was peering
into
her, with an adoration she'd forgotten existed.
“You've got a fever,” he said.
He was right. Her head was on fire, and she felt light-headed and flushed. He left the room, and she heard water running in the bathroom. As she waited, she noted the thick and creamy chicken noodle soup he had bought her, along with the cold drink, pile of napkins, and box of cold medicine.
She sat up a little straighter, fiddling with her Kleenex. Caleb returned with a washcloth. He propped himself on the edge of the bed and reached forward. She lifted her hands to take the cloth from him, to see to this herself, but he was already pressing it lightly against her forehead.
The cool dampness soothed her. She relaxed, just a bit.
“Here.” Caleb opened the medicine. “You think you can take this?” He set two tablets in her palm, then passed over the drink.
She washed them down with lemonade through the straw, while he peeled back the plastic lid on the soup. The aroma of chicken broth and light seasoning wafted into the air, promising relief to her stomach and throat.
“Why're you doing this?” she said.
“I have learned . . .” He stretched his neck, then looked up at her. “You never leave your partner, especially in a fire.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Caleb, what's happened to you?”
He licked his lips and paused, as though mulling the best way to say this. She gave him no easy way out. She wanted him to tell her, in his own words, what had changedâif anything.
“Dad asked me,” he said, “if there was anything in me that wanted to save our marriage. And then he gave me something . . . I, uh, I could let you read it.”
Catherine reached beneath the covers and lifted into view a leather-bound notebook she'd seen in his room the day before. She hadn't been trying to be nosy, but it had caught her eye tucked between his bed and the nightstand, almost as though he didn't want anyone to find it. “Was it this?”
He blinked in surprise. “How long have you known?”
“I found it yesterday. So what day are you on?”
“Uhh . . .”
“What day, Caleb?” She should've known. His hesitation confirmed what she had suspected. Most likely, this was nothing to him but some silly exercise.
“Forty-three,” he said.
“Forty-three?”
He nodded, his eyes locked on hers.
“But there's only forty.”
“Well.” He shrugged. “Who says I have to stop?”
Those words seeped into her like water into parched ground. She pushed a quivering hand across her brow, covering eyes that were turning watery against her wishes. Why should
she
be the vulnerable one? He was the man. Let him make that first step.
And, the thing was, she really wanted him to.
Despite her hesitation and chilly exterior, despite everything they'd said and done to tear each other to shreds, she realized she wanted this more than anythingâto see him lower his guard in her presence and prove just what sort of man he could be.
“So, you've actually done all these things?”
“I've tried,” he said.
She brushed her fingers over
The Love Dare
, then fixed him again in a flinty stare.“Hmm. I guess I see it all now, looking back. But . . . Caleb, I don't know how to process this. This is not normal for you.”
“Welcome to the
new
normal.”
The new normal?
How ironic. Just a few days ago, she'd been thinking about divorce and its acceptability, its normalcy, in today's culture. Now here was her husband, describing the exact opposite.
CALEB HAD HOPED his words would bring about a change. He meant what he had said with his whole heart, and yet Catherine sat two feet from him with the notebook clutched to her stomach and her eyes still darkened by suspicion.
She said, “You didn't want to do this at first, did you?”
“No,” he admitted.
“I didn't think so.”
“But halfway through, I realized that I did not understand what love was. And once I understood that, I
wanted
to do it.”
“Caleb, I
want
to believe that this is real, but I am
not
ready to say that I trust you again.”
“I . . . I understand that. But whether you ever reach that point or not, I need you to understand something.”
Her mouth was set, her eyes questioning.
Caleb eased from the bed and slipped down to his knees. He didn't know what to say. He was a man, after all. He had nothing rehearsed.
This was unfamiliar territory and the idea of stepping out from behind his protective layers scared him in ways he could not describe. He would rather strip away every layer of fire gear and apparatus and go dashing into a blazing building than expose the things inside him.
He would rather die.
Sometimes, though, wasn't that what it took? It was time to put it all on the line. What were the words he'd just told her?
“You never leave your partner . . .”
“Catherine, I am
sorry
.” He took a deep breath to steady the trembling of his voice. He looked up into her eyes. “I have been
so
selfish. For the past seven years I have trampled on you with my words and my actions.” He could barely hold her gaze, over-whelmed by the depth of the damage he had caused.
His wife's hands were clasped in her lap. Silently, she began to weep.
He felt drops stream down his own cheeks. “I have . . .”He had to finish this, had to say it all now or never. He spoke each word with husky determination. “I loved other things when I should've loved
you
. In the last few weeks, God has given me a love for you that I've never had before. I have asked Him to forgive me, and I am hopingâand
praying
âthat somehow you would be able to forgive me, too.”
It killed him to see those hot streaks on his wife's face. Each one represented pain he had inflicted upon this woman he'd sworn to cherish.
God, show me mercy.
“Catherine,” he whispered, barely able to get out the words, “I do
not
want to live the rest of my life without you.”
HEART READY TO burst, Catherine soaked in her husband's confession. There was no doubting his sincerity, and even though she hadn't paid much attention to spiritual things since her senior year in high school and that one really bad relationship, she'd seen God's hand move in other people's lives.
Maybe, now, even in her husband's.
That did not, however, erase their history of harsh words and distrust. Some things simply didn't wash away in a bucketful of tears.
“Caleb.” She brushed her hair back over her ear. “I'm supposed to give those divorce papers to my lawyer next week. I just, um . . .” She turned away, then decided it was best to look him in the eye, since he had been willing to afford her that courtesy. “I need some time to . . . time to think.”
Behind a brave smile, he nodded. “You can have all the time you need.”
Catherine watched him retreat down the hall, out of sight. She was on her own, with the midday sun coming through the blinds and splashing across her arm, with the aroma of the soup promising to make her feel better in no time.
She wanted to believe. She really did.
Weeks earlier, though, she had made a decision to move on, and she refused to go stumbling back into the past without a good reason. If Caleb's sincerity proved to be short-lived, she would have only herself to blame. She needed to knowâ
really
knowâthat his heart was in this for the long haul.
She wiped the moisture from her face and touched the cover of the leather notebook. He had done everything in here, and still she was not convinced.
C
aleb sat on his bed in Station One's sleeping quarters, the bedside lamp aimed at the Bible opened in his lap. Though he didn't like to make a show of his new reading habits, neither did he try to hide them.
Terrell trudged into view, his mouth turned down. “Cap'n?”
“Hey, Terrell.”
“You got a moment?”
“Sure.”
Terrell perched on the next bed with a sheepish look. “I've been talking to Michael over the last coupla shifts about my, uh . . . It's about a personal issue. He said maybe I should just come see you.”
“Okay.”
“I never even wanted to say anything around the guys, but, um . . .” Terrell pursed his lips and looked off at the wall clock. “Man, it's been tough. Lauren moved out, and I just don't know what I need to do.”
Caleb nodded in thought.
“It won't affect my work, though, Cap'n. I promise you.”
“I know that, Terrell. I've always been able to count on you.”
The stocky black man waved a dismissive hand. “You know, I shouldn't even have brought this up. Forget about it.”
“No. No, that's not gonna help, is it? I've been in the same boat with
my
wife recently, and I've been learning a lot through the process.”
“Yeah, Michael said that.”
“What?” Caleb acted upset. “You guys're talking behind my back again?”
“Well, I'd be lyin' if I said I hadn't noticed something different about you.”
“I guess I'm glad
somebody
noticed.”
“Yeah, man.” Terrell folded his arms. “I hear what you're sayin'. When it comes to me and Lauren, I tried, but she ain't interested in makin' this thing work. Tells me she's done.”
Caleb held up both hands. “Listen, it sounds like you and Lauren have been going through the same stuff we have.”
“You and Catherine?”
Caleb shrugged. “I've made some mistakes.”
“But . . . You two?”
“Yeah. Well.”
“Guess there ain't no one that's safe.”
“Terrell, how much are you willing to work on your marriage?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“All right.” The captain slid the Bible onto his bed and reached for the nightstand drawer. His hand closed around the journal's worn leather. “I, uh . . . I've got something that may help you. It's nothing magical, no quick cure or anything. I mean, Catherine's still not even sure she wants to be with me.”
“Hate to hear that, man. I'm sorry.”
“The thing is, this is more about
you
. I've changed because of doing thisâfor the better, I hope. You and Michael seem to think so, anyway.”
“So what is it?”
“I'll tell you,”Caleb said, “but you're not gonna like it at first.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, it involves God.”
“What? Man, I've been an atheist all my life.”
“I'd be an atheist, tooâif it wasn't for God.”Caleb wore a wry grin. “Seriously, though, if you're not even open to the possibility, Terrell, then what I have really won't help you much.”
Terrell weighed that. “Well, I'm . . .
open
to the possibility.”
“I'm not guaranteeing it'll fix your marriage. Life's not that simple. But the real question is, how far will you go to work on it?”
“With God?”
Caleb shrugged. “That's sorta the key to it all.”
“Hey, man . . . I, uh . . . Sure, whatever it takes.” Terrell's eyes snapped to the left and the right. “Just don't tell Michael.”
“Okay.”
“Or Wayne.”
“If you say so, Terrell. I'm not trying to twist your arm or anything.”
“Okay, okay. So, just tell me what the deal is.”
“It's not a deal, really,” Caleb said. He pulled the notebook from the drawer and handed it over. “It's more like a dare.”
CATHERINE COULD JUST imagine the look of delight on her mother's face. She had been planning this surprise for months, and now at last she would be able to divulge the secret. Joy Campbell would beam through her speechless lips. Her eyes would dance with pleasure.
First, however, Catherine had to be sure that her mom was outfitted with all the necessities for the trip.
She approached the receptionist's desk at RMS Homecare. Her steps were bouncy, and her brunette hair bobbed on her shoulders with new honey highlights. She'd determined to set aside her temporary confusion caused by Caleb's transformation and to move ahead. She found herself warming up to him, but fear was keeping her heart at arm's length. She was staying focused on her careerâsimpler that way, uncluttered.
“Hello,Mrs. Holt,” the receptionist said.“How're you today?”
“Fine, thanks.”
