Fireproof (28 page)

He found out John Holt had something else in mind.

“I'm getting to where I know this trail pretty well,” John said.

“You're welcome to walk it anytime, Dad.”

“I just might. I love Savannah, but we sure enjoy seeing you. And we're still praying for grandkids.”

“All right, all right. I get the message.”

“You're not getting any younger.”

“Hey, take it easy on me. Anyway, God knew we needed to get some things in order before going down that path.”

“You may be right.” Shrugging, John slipped his hands into his pockets. “But your mother made me promise that I'd try.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Figures.”

He wondered if her hounding would ever end. He could recall being a little boy, trying to chop wood on his own—to be a man, to do it just the way Dad did it. His mom had rushed out and snatched the ax away, frantic with worry. Since then, her every cautionary word and prying question had stirred that same irritation in him. Throughout high school, in particular, he'd lashed back every time she tried to butt in. Couldn't she just let him be his own person?

His father, on the other hand, had always known when to help or back off.

“I wanna thank you, Dad.
The Love Dare
has changed my life.”

“God's changed your life.
The Love Dare
was just a tool He used.”

“You know,” Caleb said, “I've already given it to one of my firemen.”

“Good. It's meant to be passed on.”

Caleb could only imagine the burden the forty-day challenge must've been for his parents. Whereas he and Catherine had only seven years of bad habits to unwind, John and Cheryl had incurred decades. The yelling. The silent treatment. It must've been daily torture to forge ahead with that much baggage.

“I, uh, I just can't tell you how grateful I am that you didn't give up on me, Dad. Or on Mom for that matter.”

John stopped walking and looked down. When he lifted his gaze again through his glasses, there was something purposeful there. “Caleb, I wanna be a godly man, and I'm learning so much. But there's something I haven't told you.”

Caleb tilted his head. Where was this going?

“I wrote that notebook in my own handwriting,” his father said, “because I knew you'd accept it from me. But I didn't do
The
Love Dare
on your mother. She did it to me.”

“What?”

“Son,
I
was the one who wanted to leave.”

Caleb winced. This wasn't possible. His father was the one who had held this thing together and been the good guy throughout.

John said, “God got ahold of your mother, and she prayed and loved me unconditionally. It was through
her
example that I came to Christ.”

Caleb took a gulp of air and glanced away. This changed everything. This upended the assumptions that had leveraged him against his own mother. “
Mom
did this?” He could hardly pose the question as his eyes began to swim.

“She did. She's such a blessing to me, and she's grown so much. I love her with all my heart.”

Tears pricked the corners of Caleb's eyes. “Dad, I . . . I have treated her so
wrong
.”

“Caleb, she deserves your respect.”

He knew his father was right. He'd heard the words before, yet this time he viewed them in a different light. How could he have acted toward her the way he had? He turned his gaze back up the trail, toward the house. How could he face her, knowing how far he'd veered from what was fair and right?

How could he
not
?

John gave him an affirmative nod, as though reading his thoughts.

Without another word, Caleb strode back the way he had come, kicking through the leaves and ground cover. He broke into a run.

CHERYL HOLT STOOD in black slacks, a mint-green sweater, and an onyx necklace. She folded a napkin and set it beside her son's plate. Across the table, Catherine was setting down iced drinks and a plate of deviled eggs.

Cheryl heard footsteps from the hall, but she was focused on her task and moved to the next place setting.

The footsteps neared.

Someone was running. In the house?

Suddenly, she recognized that rhythm: it was the cadence of Caleb's feet that had warmed her heart every school day when he got home, and struck terror into her every time he came in from the backyard—had he hurt himself, cut himself, or broken an arm?

Cheryl stopped what she was doing now. All those maternal fears came coursing through her, but—as always, as every mother must do—she turned.

Her son was crying.

Oh, Lord, what has gone wrong?

There was no sign of physical pain in Caleb's wet eyes, though—only tenderness like she hadn't seen in ages. And then he rushed to her, enveloping her in an embrace.

“Mom . . . Mom, I'm so sorry.”

She soaked it in, uncertain where this was coming from but not pushing it away. Not after all these years. “It's all right, son.”

“I didn't know,” he mumbled into her ear. “I didn't know.”

But she did. Now she understood. She rubbed his back and felt her own eyes moistening behind her glasses. “It's all right.” Her voice quavered with emotion. “It's okay. It's all right.”

“Mom.”He backed away to look at her, cupping her face with both his hands. “Please forgive me.”

“I do, Caleb. You're forgiven. I love you.”

He pulled her close again. “I love you, too,Mom. I love you so much.”

CATHERINE WATCHED THE reconciliation between her husband and mother-in-law, sensing that it was a vital step in the healing of her own marriage. As the afternoon bore on, she didn't press Caleb for any explanations. She was learning that sometimes a man needed time to process things. And while women wanted face-to-face communication, men preferred side-by-side.

“Well, I s'pose you two lovebirds could use some time to yourselves,” John offered.“Cheryl, how 'bout joining me for a walk?”

She nodded. “Let's go enjoy the last of the daylight.”

“Just be back by seven,” Catherine said.

“What's at seven?” Caleb asked.

“You'll see. But none of you'll wanna miss it.”

“Well, we'll be here then.” Cheryl turned on her way out.

“And not a minute sooner,” John added with a wink.

Caleb slipped an arm around Catherine's waist, and she leaned back into him. He pointed out they had an hour to themselves. She shrugged and pretended there was nothing to do.

The pretending didn't last for long.

WITH THE TELEVISION tuned to WSWG Channel 44, Caleb and his parents waited on the couch. The onscreen guide told him they were about to watch a game show, but he had no idea why.

“Here we go,” Catherine said. “Turn it up.”

Caleb notched the volume in time to hear a studio audience cheer out:

“Wheel . . . of . . . Fortune!”

“It's Wonders in Wheelchairs Week,” the MC announced, “featuring men and women who would not let fate keep them from
our
Wheel.” The camera panned over three contestants, seated at their podiums on specially built platforms, smiling wide and ready to play. The MC continued, “Ladies and gentlemen: Pat Sajak and Vanna White.”

“Hey, did I just see your
mom
?” Caleb said to Catherine. “She passed the audition?”

“With flying colors.”

“I can't believe this. You acted like she didn't make it.”

John and Cheryl were listening in, elated at this revelation.

“Is she there right now?” Caleb asked.

“It was filmed weeks ago. Dad went with her to L.A. for the taping.”

“So, does she win anything?”

“Shhh,” Catherine said. “I'm trying to watch the show. Look, there she is.”

Mrs. Campbell appeared comfortable and confident, in a lavender blouse, with
Joy
on her name tag. Her hair was styled and colored, her eyes alive with wonder. By the first commercial, she had won $2,000 in a toss-up round. By the second, she'd taken a commanding lead with two puzzles solved and $8,600 in total earnings.

“Isn't she darling?” Cheryl asked as the last commercial came on. “I'm so happy for her. She looks like she's having the time of her life.”

“Oh,” Catherine said. “Definitely.”

“Look at her smile,”Caleb said. “And your dad looks so proud.”

“That was part of the deal, that he would spin the wheel for her.”

“She's done good so far.”

“It's not over yet.” Catherine squeezed his hand. “Just keep watching.”

By the game show's third commercial, Mrs. Campbell had steamrolled the competition and earned a total of $14,900. She was wheeled forward in the finale, as the bonus-round contestant who now had a shot at the big prize—as yet undisclosed.

The puzzle was
a thing
. It was two words.

Joy chose her three free consonants and a vowel—
F
,
K
,
M
, and
A
—to be added to the supplied
R
,
S
,
T
,
L
,
N
, and
E
. She was left with:

_ _ _ KST_RE _AFE

Using the electronic chalkboard provided by the show, she wrote two wild speculations, then, with only seconds left, made her final guess: BOOKSTORE CAFE.

“That's correct!” Pat Sajak said.

The audience went wild and Mrs. Campbell lit up.

Pat waited for the cheers to quiet. “Well, let's see what you've won.”He opened the envelope in hand to reveal the prize. “A new boat!” he exclaimed.

The screen filled with the image of an impressive thirty-two-foot cabin cruiser. It was amazing. Caleb's eyes widened in appreciation of such a fine vessel. Then, as the camera returned to the winner and her reaction, Mrs. Campbell surprised everyone by spelling out a final message with her electronic stylus. She held it up for all to see:

4 U CALEB

CHAPTER 40

T
hey were all here at the campsite clearing. Catherine stood on the grass in comfortable flats, glowing in a shimmery gold dress with a matching shawl that draped her thin arms. She ran her gaze over the small, formally dressed group of friends and family, those who'd come to witness her and Caleb's special day.

This was really happening. A fresh start.

There were her parents, and Mr. and Mrs. Holt. Some of her coworkers were present—Tasha and Robin, Anna and Ashley. Farther back, the nurse who had treated Caleb's burns had made it, too.

Near the front, Caleb's crew sat tall and proud—Terrell, Eric, and Wayne, as well as Michael and Tina Simmons. Earlier, Catherine had been introduced to a tall man, a Marine, who had put himself on the line at the train tracks a few months ago. He was in the crowd now. And was that Chief Hatcher?

Nothing could keep her from smiling ear to ear as she faced the tan-suited man before her. Caleb was older now, with even a few hints of gray at his temples, but he looked more handsome than ever. Above his gold tie, green eyes were peaceful, filled with a love deeper than those first giddy moments of infatuation in a firehouse bay ten years ago.

Sparks were nice. No doubt about that.

But these flames between them now burned longer, hotter, richer.

“We've gathered here today,” the minister was saying, “to celebrate the reaffirmation of vows with Caleb and Catherine. And whereas this may be the second time they've made a commitment to this marriage, it is the first time they have done so upon a foundation of faith in Jesus Christ . . .”

Behind the minister, the moss-draped cross stood tall against the sun.

“It is the desire of Catherine and Caleb that their vows, from this point on, be a covenant and not a contract. For marriage is a sacred institution established by God, and one that is meant to last for life.”

A cool breeze swept up from the pond, rustling the leaves in the majestic pecan trees and stately oaks. Catherine couldn't imagine a more beautiful day.

She caught the minister's slight nod.

This was it. Time to seal this before all present.

She and Caleb stepped in unison toward each other. She wondered, for just a moment, if her hair was still in place and if she'd used the right color of lipstick for this setting—and then that all floated away as she locked eyes with her husband.

“Caleb,” the minister said, “in the presence of God and these witnesses, do you come today to freely and unconditionally commit to this covenant marriage to Catherine?”

“I do.”

“And, Catherine, do you come today to freely and unconditionally commit to this covenant marriage to Caleb?”

“I do.” She gave a bashful smile. “With all my heart.”

“Genesis 2:24 says, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh . . .'”

CAPTAIN CALEB HOLT liked the idea of becoming one flesh. He couldn't wait for their four-day, three-night stay at Saint Simons. Against his every compunction, he hadn't even asked about getting his new thirty-two-footer docked there somehow.

When it came to love, there were some things you just didn't dare.

The minister continued with the vows, and the gathering remained polite until the words Caleb had waited for: “You may kiss the bride.”

Catherine lifted her face to his. Willing and waiting.

Nothing had ever sent his heart into somersaults quite like that.

Down the grassy aisle they paraded, grinning amid the crowd's jubilation. They moved beneath the ornate ivory archway, past flowers on short pillars, to tables in the back of the clearing.

A punch bowl waited on one.

Good. Caleb was thirsty out here in the August heat.

On the other table, beside the guestbook, a picture of him and his wife showed them squeezing a stuffed, oversized Dalmatian between them. Towering over the display, a resplendent cake with buttercream icing waited for the first cut from bride and groom. Tina Simmons had done an amazing job on this. Even Caleb, a rookie in the ways of baking, marveled at the delicate rose petals carved into the frosting, interspersed by actual deep-red rosebuds.