A Time to Surrender (33 page)

“I figured we—I—uh.” He cleared his throat. “Closure was needed.”

Her stomach tightened. The finality of the word scared her. “Maybe some venting too.”

He thrust out his lower lip and shook his head. “Hawk got that part.”

“Lucky Hawk.” She paused. “It’d help me if you vented.”

“It’d help me if you’d been truthful.”

“I told you that you didn’t know me and you said you didn’t give a rip. What was it? ‘We are the sum of our past, mistakes and all. The sum that I’ve experienced in you is one that I care for deeply.’ What was that? Hot air from the heat of a lustful moment?”

“I could not imagine . . .” He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re going to
prison
.”

“What did you expect, Danny? The usual? Sex, booze, and drugs? Would that have been acceptable to you? Sorry to be such a disappointment.” She pressed her lips together, her outburst ricocheting in her chest.

He gazed at the fire, not saying anything.

“What do you need for closure?” she asked.

“Remember I mentioned to you about some old friends who influenced my judgment of you?”

“Yeah.”

“There was a little more to it than that.” His eyes flicked in her direction. “Faith Simmons and I were close from kindergarten through high school into college. I mean, we were tight, totally connected on everything. We even went to church together and youth Bible studies. I kept thinking it was purely platonic. She dated others. I dated others. I loved her, though, but I couldn’t admit that even to myself until a few weeks ago.”

“What happened to her?”

“She went flako. We were both just this side of alternative, you know? Music, movies, protests, et cetera, et cetera. Christians, but refused to limit Jesus. We explored His radical side and tried to put that into a contemporary setting.” He shrugged. “She dropped out altogether, rejected everything that hinted at God. Dyed her hair, then just shaved it off. Pierced so many body parts she looked like a cheese grater.” He paused. “Changed her name.”

Skylar didn’t know what to say.

“Sometimes I wondered if I was pressing in with you because I never took the chance with her. The resemblance was uncanny. Was I loving you or her? Or do I just have a thing for hurting females who are way out there?”

Now he was doubting that he cared for her at all?
Lordhavemercy.
“Why did she change so drastically?”

“Her father was a tyrant. I suspect more was going on than anyone knew. She had to break away. Why did you break away?”

Her memories were like wisps of smoke from fires she had not fanned in many years. She almost believed her mother was a dead drug addict buried in Ohio and that she did not know who her father was.

“My brother and sister seemed to have turned out fine. They’re regular-type citizens.” She shrugged. “I was the third, the unwanted runt. Ugly as all get-out. Uncoordinated. Sick all the time. Thumb-sucker and bed wetter until I was seven. We had money. We traveled. One time we were here in San Diego, at the zoo. I was eight. I got lost. They didn’t miss me until they were back at the hotel. It was dark by then.” She shook her head, shoving similar memories away. “My parents were ex–flower children. They gave up the VW bus but not the pot. They were glad to see me go off to college at eighteen and never come back. I only checked in with them now and then so they didn’t report me as missing and sic the cops on me. Waste of a calling card, I’m sure.” She wiped roughly at the tears on her face. “Sad enough for you?”

He rubbed his temple. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. No excuse—”

“It is. It is an excuse. Not for your choices, but for having been dealt nothing but junk.” He sounded angry. “The cards were stacked against you from the get-go. It wasn’t right or natural, Skylar. You can’t let your parents off the hook. Don’t wallow in the past, but go ahead and blame them for the beatings they inflicted on your psyche.”

“Shouldn’t I forgive them?”

“Of course. Forgive them and whoever hurt them. Just stop letting the past define you.” He exhaled loudly, as if he’d run out of steam.

The moments passed. Danny stood abruptly and threw logs into the fireplace. They thumped loudly, sparks flew. He jammed the poker against the logs. The fire hissed and popped.

Skylar wiped her nose and gulped tea. She hadn’t even told Indio or Claire the details she’d just revealed to him. He drew from her deep heart.

“Danny, I started praying in Illinois.”

He sat back down, his face red.

“And I know God heard me.” She tried to smile. “You’d get religion too if you were in my shoes.”

He didn’t respond.

“You helped me see myself as someone He could really love. Thank you.”

“He loves everyone. I’ve always believed that.”

“And He forgives everyone and asks us to do the same.” She leaned forward. “Will you forgive me?”

“I forgive you.”

She shut her eyes.
Thank You, God.

“Those are easy words for me to say. Maybe too easy. Too automatic.”

She looked at him. “I’m not asking for anything more. The FBI could show up here at any minute and whisk me off to San Francisco. Then they’ll lock me up for a long time. That doesn’t leave much space for a relationship.”

“Thanks for letting me off the hook.” Sarcasm laced his tone. “The truth is we both botched this from the beginning. We both pretended you were someone you weren’t. So.” He stood. “I plan to split too.”

“What?”

“Out of the country. Maybe I’ll surf my way around the world. Ireland. Portugal. Australia. I might even stop off in Baghdad and see old Kev.”

Skylar couldn’t move. He was leaving his family? Work and friends? Her, for sure. She didn’t realize she was clinging to a slender thread of hope until just now. It snapped almost audibly. The falling sensation was so real she clutched the arm of the chair.

He said, “I don’t exactly know how to say good-bye.”

“Just go.” She was about to lose it, but refused to do it in front of him again.

He held out his hand to shake hers.

“I said just go, Danny. Just get out of my sight.”

“Yeah.” He looked at her for a moment, turned, and left the room.

Skylar’s angels found her, a messy heap on the braided rug in front of the hearth.

“Oh, child.” Indio patted her back.

Claire helped her stand. “Let’s sit on the couch. Nana’s knees aren’t up for the floor tonight.”

She sat squished between them, held upright by their shoulders. She laid her head on Claire’s shoulder. Indio held her hand.

“He’s so hurt,” Skylar sobbed.

Claire dabbed tissues on her face.

“I’m so sorry I hurt your son.” She tilted her head to see Indio. “Your grandson.”

“Well,” Indio said, “it was bound to happen. Better by someone we love than some hussy.”

Claire said, “His faith has mirrored Indio’s since he was a little kid. But somewhere along the way this dogmatic streak got hold of him. When Max and I had marital struggles, he practically disowned us. ‘Under no circumstances do Christians couples separate’ was his thinking.” Her sigh conveyed sorrow and resolve. “His inability to see grays was bound to undo him, but he has to work it out for himself. He’s so much like my brother. He’s not going to Alaska, is he?”

Skylar shook her head. “Australia.”

“Oh, Lord.”

Indio said, “He’ll be all right. God’s not going to let him out of His sight.”

“Can we pray for him?” Through her tears she saw the two staring at her in surprise. “What?”

Indio looked at Claire. “I told you. She’s growing by leaps and bounds.”

Claire smiled. “And how do we pray for you, honey?”

Skylar hesitated. Danny’s admonition had made it clear what she needed, but she didn’t want to go there. She really didn’t want to go there.

But . . . of course she had to.

“Danny said I need to forgive my parents for how they hurt me.”

Indio nodded and stroked her hand. “Danny understands.”

Claire hummed softly for a moment. Max had apologized to all four of their adult children for being an absentee father. “Parents can send signals to our hearts that name us in ways God never intended. When we forgive them, our hearts can heal. God can then plant His own signal in us. We can receive our true name from Him.”

Did that mean her true name was not ‘unwanted runt’? “What’s mine?”

“Precious, cherished daughter of the heavenly Father.”

Skylar closed her eyes. How she longed to hear those words spoken in her heart!

Claire and Indio prayed—for Danny . . . for her. And she knew they carried her to the throne.

Sixty-one

T
he computer screen shone brightly in the dark room. It displayed Monday flights to Australia. Under that window were others: client-related files, Ro-Bo Shop spreadsheets, bank accounts, and unfinished e-mails. The clock in the low corner read 2:21.

Danny had always been able to juggle countless thoughts and tasks simultaneously. A spur-of-the-moment checking out of life, however, was proving to be freaking impossible.

It was the emotions. An avalanche of
feeling
buried any clear-cut order.

All he had to do was click the “Buy now” icon, pack a pair of jeans, wetsuit, and board, hand off work details. He had enough money. He had a passport.

Laue, the young guy he mentored, had been chomping at the bit to take on more. He even had a rapport with clients. As far as the shop went, Hawk ran it by himself with a few hired college kids. Tuyen no longer needed his computer lessons; she had a job in Santa Reina.

So why did he hesitate?

He needed to talk to someone.

His roommate, Hawk, would laugh and say, “Welcome to the club, dude.” The guy was head-over-heels with Tuyen, a match Danny still couldn’t fathom.

Erik? Ditto. There was a sense of permanency about him and Rosie.

His dad? His hero, the guy he wanted to be a clone of? He’d sold his business last year to make hot chocolate with his wife for retreat guests.

His pastor? He’d point him to God.

Danny knew only one person who could hear him, give him new eyes, and make him laugh at himself.

But she was going to prison.

He clicked the icon.

Sixty-two

S
peechless, Jenna listened to Danny on the phone. He was leaving the next day for Australia?

“You can’t.” She walked down the hall, into her bedroom. “You just can’t.”

“Give me a break, Jen.”

“Oh, I don’t really mean it. But still.” A fresh wave of abandonment washed over her.

“I gotta get my head on straight.”

“Good grief, how old are you anyway? You were supposed to do this when you were in high school! Lexi will have a fit.”

“She didn’t. She has Nathan now. Moving right along, how are you doing?”

She huffed and sat on her bed. “Fine.”

He waited.

“Better. I have made conscious efforts to sit still and talk to God. Three times. For about a minute and a half.”

He chuckled. “Each?”

“Yes. I think I’m almost to the point of believing He’s close enough to listen.”

“That’s great progress.”

“And I’m throwing a barbecue even as we speak. Marine wives and children. Amber’s here too. Joey left yesterday, so she’s bummed.”

“The benevolent princess gathers her kingdom.”

“Shut up.”

“Bye, sis. I’ll be in touch.”

A lump filled her throat. She whispered, “Bye.”

She turned off the phone. Why did he have to go too? The brother she counted on to pray for her, even when she wasn’t interested.

Maybe it was her turn to pray for him.

“God, if You’re listening, please screw his head on right and keep him safe.”

J
enna, I really think you’d like my church.” Amber pushed the automatic ice dispenser button on the refrigerator door. The machine cranked into gear and ice cubes plunked into the bucket she held. “Wow.” She raised her voice above the noise. “You sure scored with this fridge, didn’t you? Niiiice rental.”

Jenna paused in tossing a salad and narrowed her eyes at Amber until the racket stopped. “Which question do you want answered first?”

Amber smiled. “I only asked one. Don’t get bent all out of shape. The church comment was a comment.”

“You’ve never made such a comment before.”

“Hmm. Must not have been time until now.” She set the ice bucket on the countertop. “You have mentioned how your parents’ church is too small and traditional and Danny’s is too big and odd. Mine might be just right, Goldilocks. But I really am impressed with this fridge.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Fair enough. You will—know when you’re ready, I mean. You’re welcome anytime. I’ll take this tray outside.”

“Thanks. Be there in a minute.”

Everyone was in her backyard. She could hear their laughter. The house was perfect for entertaining with its gas grill, patio table, and a grassy area for a wading pool that Jenna had bought for the kids. Not to mention the automatic ice dispenser.

With Danny she had teased about the one and a half minutes with God. In truth, she had been sensing something different most of the time since they had talked Wednesday night.

Maybe it had something to do with Kevin’s two e-mails since then, his expressions of love.

Maybe it had something to do with caring for others. Preparing for the barbecue with her new friends had energized her. Having them in her home calmed her.

Maybe it had something to do with confessing her adultery to God every single day. She didn’t know if it would ever “take,” if she would ever be relieved of the shame, but whenever she prayed, there were slivers of light in the darkness. It was enough to keep her functioning one day at a time.

The phone rang. She picked up the cordless and noticed the caller ID. It blurred except for one word:
Govt.

No, no, no!

“Hello.”

“Is this Mrs. Jenna Mason?” It was a female voice. “Wife of Sergeant Kevin D. Mason?”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Your husband has been injured.”

The world careened off its axis.