Forbidden Falls

“Was it terrible? Were they very upset?”



He saw her shake her head and there was only silence for a moment.



“Ellie,” Noah said, “did you get them back on time?”



She nodded. She bit her lower lip, looked down and didn’t say anything more.



“Did he give you any trouble?”



She shook her head. Then she said, “Well, there was the usual. He told them to go to their rooms, get ready for bed and stay there. Ready for bed, at four o’clock. But I made sure they had eaten before I took them back, so if he doesn’t give them dinner, they won’t be hungry. Then again, if he does give them dinner and they can’t eat it, there could be a different kind of problem. I couldn’t tell him, though…that they’d eaten.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “He seems to be always looking for ways to get to them and it would be just like him to give them a big dinner and insist they eat every bite, even though they can’t. But there’s not much I can do to control that. He’ll do what he’ll do.”



“You’ve been crying.”



“Some,” she admitted.



“Since four o’clock?” he asked, an ache creeping into his chest. When she didn’t answer him, he said, “I was worried about you. About you and your kids.”



“I never thought about that,” she said. “That you’d worry. I went to my friend’s house. Phyllis—the lady who owns the duplex. I just wanted to talk to someone who understood the whole mess.”



He gave her a moment. Where there is despair, let me offer hope…“That probably helped.” He saw her nod. “Would you like to talk about it now?”



“I’m pretty worn out.”



“Would it help to pray about it?” he asked. “I could—”



And she laughed a little, shaking her head. “If it’s all the same to you—”



“Sometimes it really does help,” he said.



“Not today,” she said. Then she sniffed. “Look, I’ll be fine in the morning. I just need some rest. I’m sorry if you were worried.”



“I didn’t mean to put that on you—I have no business waiting for you to get home. You’re an adult. I can’t explain—it’s just that I felt for them. The kids. And you—I just wanted to know you were okay.”



“Well, I’m okay, Noah. And the kids will get by. We talked about how we had to accept the way things are for a little while longer. We sang songs all the way to Redway in the car, just to keep their minds off things. I only had to put up with Arnie for three or four minutes, just long enough for him to tell me I’d better remember who’s calling the shots here.” She groaned in the back of her throat. “Maybe I should go back to him. Could I do that? Stay with him for the ninety days so I could watch over the kids? Then leave with them after the time’s up? Legally? Could that work?”



Noah felt a surge of anger rise up in him at the very thought of Arnie touching her, putting his hands on her, telling her what to do. In that instant he knew he’d lose his mind if she did that. “You can’t do that,” he said, and then he asked himself who he thought he was to tell her what she could do. “Arnie might trip you up somehow, make it worse. You’re doing what the court asked. Um, listen, I did some checking this afternoon—there’s a woman lawyer in town. Jack—the guy who owns the bar—his sister is a lawyer and she lives here.”



She sighed heavily. “I can’t afford a lawyer.”



“She might be willing to talk to you for free. If you explained. If you told her the cheapskate preacher doesn’t pay worth a damn. I mean, maybe she can’t build a case or go to court on your behalf without a fee, but—”



“Noah, stop. I’ve talked to lawyers…”



“I could give you a loan. Long-term. Interest free.”



She tilted her head. “Don’t do this,” she barely whispered. “Leave me some pride. I got us into this, I’ll get us out.”



“Ellie, there’s no shame in a helping hand….”



“I just need some rest. I didn’t sleep at all last night. Once I have some sleep, things will look better in the morning. I’ll be able to think straight.”



Noah pulled a rumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and held it toward her. “Well, sleep on this. Her name is Brie Valenzuela. I just met her. Very nice woman.” He shrugged. “According to Preacher, the cook, she’s been known to help neighbors. She helped him once.”



“But they all know each other.”



“Just take it. It’s Mel’s sister-in-law, Ellie.”



She took the paper and said, “You didn’t tell them all about—”



“I didn’t tell anyone anything. I just said I had a friend with a difficult custody situation that, as far as I could tell, was diabolical. I said I knew someone who could use some help.”



“They’ll all figure it out,” she said, her voice tired.



“That’s not the most important thing,” he argued.



“I have to go to bed now. So I can work in the morning.”



Helplessly, he said, “Is there anything I can do to help? Right now?”



“Yeah, boss. You can let me get up the stairs and shake this off. This isn’t your problem.”



Oh, but it was, he thought. It wasn’t that he took on pain and suffering like an addict. He barely knew her and yet he was completely enmeshed in this crisis; his throat ached from remembering the sound of the children’s voices when they were in his backseat. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry to get in your business. Sleep well.”



He walked around her and down the driveway. “That’s nice, though,” she said to his back. “Nice to have someone care. Thanks for that.”



Noah found himself wondering why Ellie hadn’t slept last night. He would have imagined having her kids with her, so close, all in one big bed, would have given her comfort, peace of mind. Was she completely wigged out with stress? Fear? Confusion?



Where there is sadness, let me bring joy….



Noah realized with some embarrassment that he wanted to hold her and comfort her, whisper all the right words that would bring her peace of mind. He wanted to be the one to get her through this. To rescue her. To put his arms around her, protect her and bring contentment where there was fear and pain. Hope. He would show her hope where there was hopelessness. For it is in giving that we receive….



But this was not his job. He was not her minister. He was her boss.



He shook his head, trying to shake away the impulse that was all wrong for the circumstances. It was just that he’d been too alone for too long. It wasn’t just since Merry had passed, it was before and after that. There had been women, but nothing lasting, no one to whom he could really give himself except for that all-too-brief time he had his wife. He needed to get beyond that.



Ellie would probably be happier with a hundred-dollar bill than an offer to pray with him. Why didn’t he know that? He’d always known things like that! Anyone who could go to skid row with a Bible in one hand and a grocery sack full of peanut-butter sandwiches in the other knew when it was appropriate to offer spiritual assistance and when it was time to just be a friend.



He’d gotten himself in deep. And fast. Well, that happened to counselors, he knew that—it was a hazard of the profession. But he had fallen into her problems like a drunk into a shot glass. He took them on, worried them to death, worked at finding a solution. He liked happily ever after, even if he didn’t exactly have an acquaintance with it right now.



He would have to separate himself from this situation, be objective, remember his job, his particular skills, his role.



He’d better back off, before he did more harm than good.



Come Monday morning, Noah had a headache. He’d tossed and turned, suffering through deep thoughts that ranged from his spiritual commitment and his job here, to Ellie and her problems, to missing Merry. He wished he had a woman in his life, he thought. Talk about hopelessness. Nothing can keep you up all night like worry and self-pity.



But when he finally made it to the church office at eight in the morning, he heard movement and soft humming. When he went to the upstairs bathroom, he found Ellie painting away, the little bathroom almost done. She wasn’t wearing makeup this morning. Her hair was clipped in the back, but fell in a shiny curtain down her back—she’d straightened it somehow. Instead of her tight jeans, she wore some khaki things that tied right below the knees. And his painting shirt. She looked about fifteen.



She turned and smiled at him. “Morning,” she said. “Sleep in?”



“This is my usual time,” he said.



She laughed. “Yeah, I know. Just giving you crap. I slept like a dead woman last night and thought I’d get an early start.”



“You did?” he asked, rather stunned. When last he’d seen her, she was a crying wreck. He hadn’t slept. And she’d been part of the reason.



“I did. I was worn out. But then I woke up early and thought, why not just go for it. I didn’t bother fixing up at all—I figured no one would see me but you and the paint.” Then she smiled again.



“You seem in a very good mood,” he observed.



“So much better. Really, you can’t let yourself get tired out. It’s bad all around.”



“What kept you from sleeping the night before? Worry? Upset?”



“No,” she said, laying her roller in the pan. “Oh, I’m worried. I try not to let that take over, since worry isn’t going to help anything. But I had my kids with me.” Her eyes lit up. “I snuggled them all night, listened to all their sleeping noises, smelled them fresh out of the shower, and just couldn’t shut my eyes no matter how hard I tried. Knowing I wouldn’t see them for a week and probably wouldn’t get another overnight, I—” She shook her head. “Like a stupid ninny, I was up all night just holding them and watching them sleep. No wonder I wasn’t any good at taking them back on Sunday.”



And he thought, wait a minute! You have all the same problems! Nothing has improved just by sleeping! What the hell…?



“Are you all right?”



“I have a slight headache,” he said.



“Did you take something?” she asked.



“No. It’ll probably pass.”



“Then you must want to have a headache. Right?” she asked, lifting her pretty eyebrows.



“You actually look better without makeup. Without the big hair. And you’re not six feet tall, after all.”



“Please!” she admonished. “Nothing you say is going to make me look like some Amish woman. Besides, all that curly hair is mine—I’m stuck with it. Sometimes I straighten it, but it’s way too much trouble. And I know it would make your life easier if I was really butt ugly and asexual, but I’m here to work, not make your life easier.”



He tilted his head. “Excuse me, but isn’t the job of a pastor’s assistant designed to make the pastor’s life easier?”



“No, Your Worship. It’s to assist. And I am. And I will. And I will look good if I can, thankyouverymuch. So why the headache? Drink too much last night?”



“Think too much, more likely. Listen, you don’t have to tell me if it’s none of my business, but how are you so well adjusted after just a little sleep? You were kind of…kind of…”



“Messed up over the kids last night?” she finished for him. “Yeah, I know. I admit, it gets to me. And no matter how well I sleep, I hate it. This shouldn’t be happening to them. I mean, it shouldn’t be happening to me, either, but I can take about anything. It’s them hurting that tears me up. I think people who hurt children are going to burn in hell.”