Within Sight

By Verna Lloyd

The McCray family has been struggling since facing a devastating event three years ago. Now the man responsible for shattering them the first time has returned to finish the job. Strong family bonds and the kindness of a special stranger may be the only thing that can keep their tattered family from being destroyed altogether.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365618529

Book preview

Within Sight

Within Sight

Verna R. Lloyd

Copyright © 2016 by Verna R. Lloyd

All Rights Reserved - Printed in the United States

ISBN 978-1-365-61852-9

Within Sight

First Edition

For my Mother, who always encouraged me to use the writer within

-Verna R. Lloyd

Prologue

Sunlight filtered through the Favrile stained glass windows, playing a concerto of soft waves across her auburn hair. She didn’t see it, but she felt the warmth; though it didn’t touch her frozen heart. If someone were to ask her for her thoughts, she couldn’t tell them. That was the way it had been for some time now. Oh, the thoughts were there, but they were just beyond the grasping fingers of her consciousness. She couldn’t even keep up with them anymore - they raced and slammed and prodded through her head like little wrecking balls that left traces of evidence but little substance of what they were really about. Sometimes a particular thought or emotion would break through the barriers that her mind had long ago created and suck the very breath from her lungs.

Amazing, she thought now. The body continued to function well after the heart had given up. The heart goes first, freezing in place and completely unaware of any particular emotions, save pain, longing, and despair. Yet it continues to beat - painfully, dramatically searching for each new pulse, though it knows it’s only for survival and not happiness anymore.  Eventually, the same dark abyss that has sucked the heart into its painful clutches will drag the mind slowly into that same dark place, shredding it with a knife so clean and sharp that the person doesn’t even know what’s happening until it’s too late to save the tattered edges.

Fast, swift, without warning, she mused. When had this happened to her? When had her heart seized to beat with fervor and abandonment? When had it given up hope?

So lost in her dark thoughts was she, she didn’t hear her name being softly called. The gentle voice spoke again, slowly sliding a little closer into the only part of her psyche left that allowed her to function.

Can I help you with something, Miss?

She startled on the pew and turned her face up toward the gentle calling. The sun, shining in beautiful dancing songs that she long ago had forgotten to appreciate, speared through her beautiful green eyes. At first there was only a haze - a dark silhouette in the chaos of late afternoon sun that only the South could lay claim to. Wincing, she lifted a hand to her brow and focused her eyes.

His eyes were warm and compassionate, if not a little concerned. He was probably about the age that her father would be, she calculated quickly - though she really didn’t know anything about her own father. He had glowing silver hair curling just above his suit jacket, but it was well groomed and seemed to reflect the hues streaming through the stained glass. His kindly face was round, weathered and lined with the shows of his years of hard work, but his mouth was gentle and she could tell that it was quick to smile. His fatherly paunch of a belly strained his crisp white shirt that tucked neatly into his worn brown slacks and was held firmly in place by a tired leather belt. He sat down beside her, leaving a generous amount of room between them, but close enough that she could get a better look at his familiar face. Though she was looking at him through troubled eyes, she could tell that he was a kind and gentle soul and that he only wanted to listen.

Um… I’m sorry. What time is it? she stammered.

Recognition dawned on her as he smiled a fatherly smile and glanced at the faded watch that adorned his pudgy wrist. He was one of the deacons. What was his name? She scrambled through her hazy mind and was lost for an answer when he touched her arm lightly and smiled again.

It’s 3:30, dear. May I ask what you’re looking for? he asked gently.

Confused, she shook her head. Over two hours her mind had wandered and plastered her to this pew. Why? Was she more clearheaded than she had been before she had sat down?  No, she wasn’t; not at all. What had she been thinking of all that time? Time had slipped in and out of her head like the water that flowed seamlessly over the rocky creek beds of her hometown. She didn’t have any idea and supposed that it really didn’t matter.

Um… She smiled automatically, though it didn’t touch her eyes. I guess I really don’t know what took hold of me.

She laughed a little nervously, though it didn’t come from her heart; her frozen heart.

He nodded and leaned back on the pew, wincing slightly when his arthritic leg clicked into gear while he stretched it under the pew in front of them.

I thought as much. He sighed and looked at the beautiful young woman that shared his seat. I used to not know either, he said quietly.

Even more confused than before, she glanced up. Blue eyes, she noted. Small crinkles in the corner that told her that they had seen life and probably had enjoyed much of it. The blue of them, although not bright in themselves, held a light that danced into his gentle smile. Although peaceful, she sensed a sadness there, too. Like he had known a great pain, and suffered, but was now at peace. What was he about? What was she doing here? She quietly argued in her head.

I’m sorry, she mumbled, starting to stand. I guess I lost track of the time.

He pulled a piece of paper from the offering envelopes in front of them. Don’t be afraid to talk to someone, he whispered almost inaudibly as he wrote a phone number on the front.

Taking the paper, she wedged it in with her daily Bible verses. Awkwardly, she started toward the end of the aisle. Turning slightly, but just enough for him to see the tear that slipped nearly unnoticeably from her eye to trace down and cling to her small delicate chin, she smiled sadly.

Thank you, she murmured, but had no idea why.

Chapter 1

The scene was like any other day. She had the oven going and the phone ringing, all while she was juggling the two whirlwinds that hugged her heart.

Fourteen year old Alexis bounced into the kitchen, soccer ball in hand; school bag hanging from her thin adolescent shoulders with a look of defiance that only a young teen could muster.

I’m going to Cara’s now, she stated firmly.

Mary Beth sighed and glanced at her daughter. Oh, she was beautiful. Did she tell her that enough? Mary Beth didn’t think so. Her motherly heart had wanted to build her daughter’s self-esteem so high that an industrial bulldozer couldn’t break it down, but she also knew that modesty was a virtue as well - whatever that meant. So, no - she had always told her daughter how pretty she was, though pretty wasn’t the word for Alexis, but Mary Beth had always made the effort to subtly keep her daughter confident yet gently humble; although it was difficult to look at Alexis and not feel a surge of pride. Her large hazel eyes accented her young, but prominent cheekbones that, when combined with her dark complexion that she had inherited from her father, could give her a startling combination of being mysterious, austere and playful all at the same time. Her hair was long and just as dark as it was straight, and she had a slight dimple to the side of a full mouth that promised to drive young men crazy in the very near future. That part scared Mary Beth. Of course, she’d been called a beauty in her days, but her daughter - oh, her daughter. Alexis was the epitome of perfection in her eyes. Of course, what mother doesn’t think so?

When Mary Beth noticed that her daughter was still waiting for her reply she cleared her throat quietly and looked at her. You’re grounded, Ali, you know that. I’m sorry, but rules are rules, and this one happens to stick just now, she said carefully.

Alexis boiled over so quickly that Mary Beth had almost forgotten how strong her daughter’s temper could be, or how quickly it could enflame.

You can’t be serious?! Alexis shouted. You know that I have to get out of this house! The tone of Ali’s voice sent a chill through Mary Beth and she fought the urge to recoil.

I’m sorry you feel that way, Mary Beth said calmly while she took the deep breath that she often had to take when dealing with her volatile teen daughter. Rules are rules, Ali, she said slowly, You broke my rules, and you have to face the consequences of your actions.

She braced herself for the blow.

GOD, are you serious?! Alexis hollered back, Do you think you can go all ‘psychiatrist’ on me? You’re a complete failure as a mother, let alone a human being! You just want me to suffer so that I can be as miserable as you are!

Mary Beth felt the words like a blow to her heart. She tried to tell herself that words couldn’t break it anymore - it was long since broken - but her daughter’s cut straight through her nonetheless.

Again, I’m sorry that you feel that way, Ali, she said quietly, deadly, but I am still your mother. Like it or not, you are stuck with me. When you’re an adult, maybe one day you’ll realize what I’m trying to do for you; to protect you from.

Alexis shoved into the table, knocking a glass to the floor that shattered at her feet.

No wonder everybody in this house is so miserable; you’re completely impossible! I can’t believe you have the nerve to try to act like a mother now – when it’s not wanted or needed! Alexis snapped, We should all just leave you alone to live your miserable, pathetic life! Alexis glared at her mother defiantly and added, I know Dad would be happier if you’d just leave already. As if you’re even really here to begin with.

Mary Beth turned slowly, so slowly, toward her daughter. Your father and I love each other very much, little girl, she began evenly. It was the first time she had used the term little girl in quite a few years, but her temper – every bit as strong as her daughter’s - was simmering and about to boil over. Taking a steadying breath, Mary Beth continued the fight for control.

My sadness has nothing to do with my relationship with your father, or you, or your brother, she said dangerously.

Mary Beth’s voice had gone cold. It was a trait that she had always had, and it only surfaced when she had been uncontrollably upset. But when it was directed toward one of her only loves, (her children or her husband of fifteen years), it bothered her just as deeply as it bothered the subject that it had been directed towards. At the same time, Mary Beth also understood that severe sadness and loss held an edge within her as well. An anger buried deep within that could cut more sharply than any other kind and was usually quicker to appear on the surface. Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t fix what was going on inside her, but by God she wouldn’t let it touch her family. This frozen heart wasn’t going to take over the small part of her that still held her family in the only warmth that she had left.  And that warmth, as small as it was within her, was a deep warmth, she suddenly realized, even as she spit nails through her eyes at her daughter. She loved them more than she could ever put into words. It was just too bad that she couldn’t describe that love and that, because of the loss of those words, they would never know that she would give her very breath for them all.

Mary Beth snapped back to the present when she heard her daughter’s thundering roar.

I had two brothers! Alexis spit venomously. Taking a deep breath, the raging teen threw her school bag on the kitchen floor and stepped menacingly towards her mother. You just couldn’t be a good enough mother for them both! she finished passionately.

The invisible fist slammed into Mary Beth’s helpless stomach before she could protect herself from the blow. Yes, her daughter, all of fourteen, knew how to hurt her, and how it hurt. Why did she feel a distance grow between them in that moment? Instantly, she saw the flash of sadness and apology in her daughter’s gorgeous, sad eyes, but it was covered almost as quickly by instantaneous rebellion and defiance. Her daughter, Mary Beth thought sadly. Her sweet, precious, vicious daughter; she was hurting, too.  Mary Beth knew it, even if Alexis didn’t.

It was really too bad that Mary Beth couldn’t see the tears streaming from her daughter’s face as the teen ran blindly from the house. It was equally sad that that same teen girl couldn’t see the hopeless tears that were pouring from her mother’s eyes as she watched her only daughter run away from her in blind rage and despair. 

***

An hour later, Detective Marshall McCray walked through his front door unaware of the scene that had played out between his wife and daughter just a short time ago.

I’m home, baby, he said throwing his briefcase on the sofa as he walked into the kitchen looking for his wife. He was almost afraid of what he’d find and he breathed a hitched sigh of relief when he saw Mary Beth standing over the hot stove. If he’d look close enough, he’d see the tracks of her tears - the deep loss and weariness that she had been feeling since their daughter had stormed out of the house in a rage that was, lately, all too familiar. Her rages could heat up more quickly than they would if she’d had TNT strapped to the laces of her soccer cleats, he’d thought before. They would also typically come to a painfully, for whomever her target happened to be, climactic end that was so classically juvenile,  if it had been something in a fictional novel it would certainly top the best sellers list for entertainment.

But he didn’t see any of the raw emotions that were splayed helplessly across his wife’s bleak face. He saw what he wanted to see, and what his tired heart needed to see: She was his lovely, still young after all these years, wife. Of course, that’s what he pretended to see. There was a sadness there that he tried constantly to deny. Sure, he knew subconsciously that it was there, but he couldn’t face it. He just couldn’t face the torrential pain that had overcome her and stripped her of her vibrancy and vitality.

He didn’t want to. It hurt too much and it made him a failure of the worst sorts.

He’d failed to protect her from the worst of demons, and what man that truly loved his wife as much as Marshall did, could forgive his own soul of that particular sin?

Shrugging off his dark and dangerous thoughts, he stooped to kiss her frail cheek.

At six foot three, he towered above her five foot one delicate frame that had dwindled down in the past few years, making her appear nearly childlike. He was amazed that they fit together so well. She was so tiny and had glowing pale skin with piercing green eyes that could still melt him into a gooey puddle when they smiled at him. Her hair was a dark auburn that was so incredibly soft, that it somehow seemed to bleed that very softness right into her creamy smooth skin.

He, on the other hand, was towering, and as dark and masculine as she was pale and soft. His strong jaw and sharp, straight nose was the biggest, most prominent testament of his Italian lineage. His hair was midnight and just starting to show a peek or two of the silver he had earned during his thirty eight years. The corners of his hazel eyes were just starting to show the fine lines of his age and the stresses of his work and life, and they had a hint of dark gray in them that flashed dangerously when he was angry. He knew it, too, and often used those eyes to wear down the perps in his interrogation room.

How had they come together? He thought now. He knew the answer.

It had been a deep and undeniable love nearly from the beginning. A whirlwind romance full of unbridled passion that made his heart feel so full it could have exploded if one small thing had entered its domain. Mary Beth had been just finishing her second and final year at City College of New York with her associate’s degree in Marine Biology and was looking at prospective universities to pursue an advanced degree. Marshall had graduated two years before her with an associate’s in criminal justice, and he had been just starting as a New York street patrol officer. They had met when her tiny apartment had been broken into. Marshall had arrived at Mary Beth’s apartment to take the report and had been shocked, he remembered now as he gazed at his wife of 15 years. Instead of being scared, her green eyes had sparked with fury and he had had to threaten physical detainment, only half joking, if she hadn’t stopped insisting that she would find the perpetrators and take care of them herself. He had fallen in love with her on the spot and from that day on she had filled his heart so completely that he’d known: he would never love anybody else so passionately.

His heart had grown, though, with the birth of their children. Amazing how it had grown as he never knew that it could. He had never been one to fantasize about having a wife and family - not that he didn’t want that - but he just had never put much thought into it as he was working so blindly towards the only thing that he had ever truly wanted: to be a police officer. But when Mary Beth had given him his children, he began to realize how much he loved being a father and how much he had really wanted it all along. His heart had been so full, he remembered now. Although, recently, he thought bitterly, it had shriveled and was no longer large and loving, but sad and unsure. He hadn’t realized that loving so deeply could cut so deeply at the same time. He still loved his wife and children, no doubt about that, but the last few years had taken their toll on him emotionally. Marshall was beginning to wonder if he would ever feel lighthearted again.

And his wife… Mary Beth suffered too, he knew. He desperately wanted to heal her, protect her, but he couldn’t even help himself and that was his downfall.

Here and now in their kitchen, fifteen years after he had promised her the world and still just as madly in love with his wife as he had been then, Marshall put his strong arms around Mary Beth and sniffed at the stove over her shoulder.

What’s for dinner, honey? he asked hungrily.

She didn’t answer right away, as her own mind had been as clouded with the past and the present as much as his had been.

Mmm, she murmured, pot roast.

She lifted the lid off of the pan to show him one of his favorite meals to come home to.

He smiled and was relieved that she had been able to force herself into the kitchen to make a real family dinner instead of the frozen meals she’d been tossing at them lately. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the immobilizing pain that had kept her in bed so frequently over the last few years. Hell, he didn’t feel like he could get out of bed himself some mornings. But he’d missed his wife. She used to spend so much time in the kitchen baking, grilling and measuring. She’d taken such joy out of feeding her family her culinary creations. Nowadays, she did her best and usually managed one or two homemade family dinners every week. She still managed to get the laundry done and still made sure the kids were taken care of and went where they needed to go, but as for her own personal life, she didn’t seem to have one anymore, and worse, didn’t seem to want one.

Sounds wonderful, he said now, I guess it’s done, now that it’s on top of the stove instead of inside the oven?

She glanced sideways, cutting those green eyes toward his day old traces of a dark and circumstantially otherwise sexy shadow of a beard.

Yes. She answered, and then winced, I don’t think Alexis will be joining us tonight, she added quietly.

He frowned, forming a deep line that ran between his dark eyebrows.

Another tangent? he asked, irritated.

She leaned into him slightly. You know she’s going through a rough time honey. Just let her be.

He stepped back. Dammit, I don’t understand why she’s so angry all the time! his voice rose, "What the hell am I supposed to think when she doesn’t want anything to do with her family? Her family!"

His strong voice nearly broke with the deepness of his passion, fear, and deeply rooted, absolute love and devotion that went unnoticed by the slight teenager that thought it didn’t exist at all and the frustration in that he knew it.

She’s a teenager, Mary Beth spoke softly, although she wasn’t sure herself, she turns sadness into anger. We all do. We just don’t know how to handle...

But he cut her off. Enough! he shouted. I don’t need to think about the facts to know that she’s in trouble! It doesn’t do any good! Dammit, Mar, we need to let it go and forget it! I can’t live this way!

She jolted at his sudden rise in anger. God, she felt it too. Why couldn’t they talk about it? Why couldn’t they relieve it so that they both felt comforted? They were too much alike, she knew. They were both too full of pride to realize that they needed something from the other. Instead, she pulled from deep well of anger that only hurt can create and spun on him.

I can’t do this tonight! she shouted back. Maybe you think you could deal with her better than I, but I’m her mother! she exclaimed, wincing as she thought of what those words meant to her. Nobody can understand her pain if I can’t. And if you can’t understand that or support me in it, Marshall McCray, then I don’t know why we still exist under the same roof!

Marshall sobered at the thought of not having this woman, the only woman he’d ever loved, out of his life. It wasn’t possible. His voice softened.

Mar, he started quietly, I just don’t know what to do. It’s bad enough that we’re so…so…, he didn’t know how to finish it. So, upset.

She spun around faster than he would have ever thought possible. Upset? she screeched. "Upset! Is that what you call this? Nice choice of words, McCray. Real nice for you if you can chalk this up to being upset."

He’d had it. Enough was enough. It had been three years for crying out loud. When would this end so they could all get back to normal? He wasn’t an idiot, he thought bitterly. It wasn’t like he was demanding that they not feel any pain at all or any sense of longing, but living in this dark abyss was slowly killing them all. The whole family was succumbing to this monster of anger and bitterness that had been slowly turning their hearts black. He was tired of watching it happen, tired of not knowing how to fix it, and tired of fighting with his wife whom he loved so much it hurt.

As pride would demand, and he had no shortage of it, he stalked from the room.

Eat your own dinner, he muttered, knocking a picture from the wall as he flew by. He was too angry and she was too shattered to realize that the picture was of the family - their family before it had all happened; split, right down the center.

***

The next afternoon, Mary Beth finished folding the towels and walked slowly into the bathroom, gently laying them in the closet just inside the door. The kids were both at school, getting ready to finish out the school year in just about a week, and she was looking forward to it. Soccer would be ending a few weeks after that, and Mary Beth was looking forward to the reprieve from both. She was certainly proud of both of her children’s athletic accomplishments; they’d both been stars on select leagues since they were old enough to try out, and she’d loved the rush of pride that she felt as she watched them on the field. Equally talented in the classroom, both Alexis and Levi had frequently earned various academic achievement awards between the two of them, and Mary Beth often wondered what she had done to be so blessed with her amazing children.

But she was so tired. Some mornings, Mary Beth wondered how she would get it all done; carpools to school, housework, errands, bills, homework, soccer practices, dinners, and finally, the tense and quiet evenings alone with her husband after the kids had