A Time to Surrender (37 page)

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Authors: Sally John

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BOOK: A Time to Surrender
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They walked along the narrow road.

“Jenna, dear heart.” Like before, the petite woman oozed compassion. “Tell me how you’re doing.”

“Better than the last time we talked.”

Beth’s eyebrows rose. “Despite all that’s happened.” It was a statement, not a question. “Then God has been drawing you to Himself.”

“He has.” Jenna shut her eyes briefly. Publicly recognizing God’s hand in her life felt less and less awkward the more she did it. Still, though, she had to fight down brief attacks of embarrassment. “I have a friend, Amber, who helps me see how God works in my life. Kevin and I have a counselor who is a believer. Kevin, like me, was always more on the independent side.”

“You had a nodding acquaintance with faith?”

“Exactly. Interesting how a trauma can kick-start you in a whole different direction.”

“I believe God lets us walk paths that are best suited to our own personalities. He knows what will sharpen our hearing to better hear Him.”

“He’s given us hearing aids, too, then.”
Thank You, Lord, for that.
“We’ve been through . . . Beth, I didn’t do it your way. I failed miserably. I-I cheated on Kevin.”

Wordlessly, Beth took her hand and held it as they continued strolling.

“I confessed it to Kevin.” The horror and pain of that moment haunted her.

“How is he?”

“Okay. The counselor wasn’t sure of the timing. How much more could my poor husband take after losing a limb? But our marriage is a major part of our learning to live in Kevin’s new reality. It had to come out. He cried. He’s angry. That’s lessening slowly. He’s struggling to understand forgiveness. He has moments of wanting to beat up the guy. He’s had extra sessions with the counselor. But he loves me. I don’t know why, but he does. He refuses to quit on us.”

Beth squeezed her hand. “He won’t quit. You won’t quit. And God won’t quit. You’ll get through it.”

Jenna nodded.

“Have you forgiven him?”

“For-for what?”

“For leaving you vulnerable. For getting injured.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“You will now. Trust God to give you the strength to let it all go. Do you remember the sycamore tree in your grandparents’ courtyard? The one with the black streak and the new growth?”

“Yes.”

“You have been scorched, but the new growth has already sprouted. May I come meet your Kevin before I leave town?”

“Really? I would love for him to meet you.”

Beth smiled. “I like to meet people I’ve been praying for.”

Prayers again.

Jenna didn’t want to consider where she’d be without them.

Seventy

I
ndio set her teacup on the table beside her rocker with a decided thump. “We’ve got BJ home, and Kevin. Now we need to get Danny and Skylar back.”

Claire sipped her tea and gazed out the window at the rain. Christmas was in six days. She had turned down guest requests to spend the holidays at the Hideaway. Not this year, she had told them. She wanted it quiet for her son-in-law, who’d been injured in the war. And besides that, she thought to herself, she was doing a little gathering. Danny and Skylar had used up all her surrendering energies for the year. She was reserving enough guest rooms for everyone to have a place to sleep overnight, including Rosie’s father.

She sighed. “Indio, I was doing just fine until you said that. I miss Danny and Skylar something awful. But there’s no way Skylar can leave prison. I haven’t even prayed for Danny’s return because he needs this time away. I can give that to him. Just let me enjoy the ones who will be here.”

Indio chuckled. “Hit a nerve, did I?”

“Yes, I guess you did. Why does that make you giddy?”

Indio laughed out loud. “Because it means God is at work!”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Let’s just slow it down for a bit, shall we?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Listen, I’ve been praying since Thanksgiving about our couples. I asked God to bring Danny home for Christmas, to shorten Skylar’s stay, and to give Jenna and Kevin a baby. Did you know they can have babies? That Kevin is, you know, functioning in that way?”

“You asked?”

“Didn’t you?”

Claire gaped at her mother-in-law.

“And I prayed oodles of blessings on the other couples. They’re all just so right for each other. Even that odd boy Hawk with Tuyen.”

“Amen. Can I get you some more tea or anything?”

“You’re changing the subject, dear. Now, pay attention. If God wants to send an earthquake to the detention center and break Skylar out of it, He will.”

“Indio! You didn’t ask Him to—”

“No, not specifically. I’m only thinking of what He could do. If He wants to upset the entire penal system so the paperwork releases her this week, He will.”

“Skylar is adamant about serving her time.”

Indio swatted the air. “She has a thing or two to learn about grace. The point is, are you with me?”

“In believing God can do anything? Sure.”
Whatever. Just hit the brakes and end this crazy ride.

“Good.” Indio rocked, an expression of smugness on her face. “Let’s just sit here and expect God to do something.”

“Close enough to hitting the brakes,” Claire muttered to herself and went over to the oven to check on a batch of cookies. When the phone rang she froze, the cookie sheet in her hand.

Indio clapped. “That didn’t take long.”

Claire set down the pan and picked up the phone, surprised at a twinge of anxiety. The caller ID read
Private.

“Hello?”

“Mom, it’s me.” Danny.

Claire pulled out the desk chair and sank onto it. “Hi!” A giggle started somewhere deep in her chest. She held it in.

“Surprise! I’m in L.A.”

She grinned. “No way.”

“Yeah. I’ll be there late tomorrow night. I’m staying over here so I can . . . so I can visit Skylar tomorrow. They have Sunday visiting hours, don’t they?”

“Yes, yes they do. That’s great, Danny. I’m glad to hear that.” They chatted for a few minutes about mundane things. Claire said a silent prayer of thanks that Skylar had already—in faith—put Danny’s name on her approved visitors list.

She told her son good-bye and turned to Indio.

Her mother-in-law laughed and clapped her hands again. “All you had to do was ask Him.”

Seventy-one

T
he security rigmarole at the prison far surpassed any airport’s.

Understandable, Danny thought, but it threw him for a loop. What was he getting himself into besides the room for visitors?

At first glance, he didn’t quite recognize Skylar. Because the woman’s vibes struck him as familiar, though, he took a second look.

Her hair was short, its natural auburn color grown out to the very ends, which may have been three inches from her scalp. Her freckles were more pronounced, as if they’d come out to see for themselves the unusual surroundings.

“Hi.” Her smile wouldn’t stay put.

He felt his own slip likewise. “Hi.”

“Gotta ask something right off. Are you here to tell me to get lost?”

He shook his head. Odd choice of words.

“Do you think our conversation will lead to a hug?”

“I-it might.”

“Two are allowed per visit. One right now, one when you leave. I wouldn’t want to waste a hug.”

“Skylar.” He stepped to her and wrapped his arms around her. She felt smaller to him, but so solid. So blessedly solid. “Okay if I still call you that?”

She nodded. “I prefer it.”

Other people around them greeted one another, people in street clothes and women in blue denim. Hugs. Murmured words. Boisterous hellos. Children subdued.

Skylar took his hand and led him to a bench on a patio. Beyond it was a small playground where mommies in blue denim took the kids to play.

His time with Skylar would be short, less than thirty minutes. He didn’t want to waste one by looking around or asking her unnecessary questions.

They sat.

“Sky, I brought you a couple of books. They confiscated them. Said you would get them eventually.”

“Thanks.”

“They’re about Australia.”

She nodded, her clear green eyes never leaving his. Her hand still held his. Evidently hand-holding was permitted.

“I can’t believe you’re here, Danny. I made myself believe you would never come. That way I wouldn’t be so disappointed.”

“It was time. I should have written, but . . . I’m sorry I ran out on you.”

She huffed a noise of disbelief. “You didn’t owe me anything.”

“Except love. That’s all we’re to owe each other.”

“I should know what book that’s in.”

He smiled. “New Testament somewhere.”

“I’ll look it up.” She smiled back at him.

“Please forgive me.”

“Already done, dude.”

They used up several moments just looking at each other.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Great. Food is . . . mediocre. Guards are surprisingly cordial for the most part. I have a few new friends. I told your parents that their prayers have put angels in place. My experience is not like an ugly prison movie.”

Thank God. Thank You, God.

“The hard part,” she went on, “is . . .”

“What?”

“Being locked up.” She shrugged. “’Course that’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“I miss trees and rocks. I miss cooking. I miss your family. I miss you, Wally Cleaver, something awful.”

He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. She used her other to brush tears from her cheeks. He wasn’t sure how to sit and watch her cry and do nothing.

He took a deep breath. “I miss you too.”

She eyed him as if she didn’t quite believe that.

“I didn’t want to, but I do, Sky. I do.”

She sniffed.

He pressed on. “Jenna told me I needed to get over myself. She was right. I’m so arrogant. I really don’t know why you ever hung out with me. So I went surfing. I told God I wanted to hear His voice, but for a long time I did all the talking. I told Him I couldn’t love you. Man, what would my friends think? When we got married, what would people we meet think? How would we tell the kids their mom was a felon? Of course we might be fifty years old by the time you get out, then I wouldn’t have to worry about that part.

“The real question was how could God do this to me? Set me up with the likes of a radical who changed her name and was arrested by the feds? Such an obvious black-and-white issue for the likes of cocky me. Dump the chick. She’s bad news.”

She gazed at him as if mesmerized.

“Waves in Australia are awesome. I got knocked around a lot. Got some of the hubris knocked out of me. Especially the time some other guys had to get me to shore.”

“Are you okay?” The concern in her voice was nice.

He touched his head. “Bruise has gone down. I was only out for a few minutes.”

“Danny!”

“No worries. I’m here, aren’t I? Eventually I reached a quiet space and started listening. I saw Him in the waves, in the sky, the coastline. I began to know like never before that He loves me. That I’m to keep focused on him, not the guy next to me. Or the girl.”

She waited.

“The girl next to me makes me laugh. She challenges me to do better, to think more, to give more. And now life seems pretty much boring and pointless unless I can share it with her.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“Nah. Just my heart. So, here’s my plan. I’m moving up here—”

“Danny, no. Don’t change your life for me.”

“Didn’t you hear a word I just said? I love you, Skylar. I want to be near you. For now that means visiting on the weekends. I’d rather not drive two hundred miles every weekend and stay in a motel.”

“‘For now’ means six years. Six, Danny! You can’t live your life around weekends, hours away from the ocean you love—”

“It’s not several hours, and why not?”

She didn’t reply.

“Laue, the guy working for me, is doing great. I did work some long-distance. I’ll keep doing that from up here. His percent of the profit has grown by leaps and bounds, but he deserves it. The only reason why I wouldn’t move is if you wouldn’t let me visit. If you wouldn’t receive the love I’m offering you. Why wouldn’t you receive it?”

She blinked quickly, but tears still fell. “I can’t take your life from you.”

“You’re not. I’m giving it.”

She took a ragged breath.

“So what do you say, Sky?”

“I say I love you,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes and his heart beat loudly in his ears.

“But.”

He looked at her.

“You have to promise me that when you need to surf, you’ll surf. When you need to see old friends, you’ll go. When you—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get the picture. Now promise me something.”

“Okay.”

“You won’t leave without telling me.”

A slow smile spread across her face. Her eyes sparkled in the old way. “I promise.”

He squeezed her hand. “What’s the kissing rule?”

“When you come and when you leave.”

“Next week we won’t waste that either.”

Seventy-two

M
ax, what is this?” Claire towel-dried her hair and eyed the tray he carried into the master suite. She saw her coffee mug, a toasted bagel spread with cream cheese, a linen napkin—and a ring-sized box wrapped in red foil and gold ribbon.

“You’re still wary about my gifts?” He smiled.

“I guess I am.” She put the towel on the floor, tightened her robe belt, and sat on the love seat. After thirty years of receiving gifts based on his guilt, it was difficult not to default to skepticism when she saw a jewelry box from him.

He set the tray on a table and sat beside her. “Just remember the gift I gave you a year ago Thanksgiving.”

It had been a note inside a small box. “You asked me to remarry you.” She smiled. “That was a good one.”

“And last Valentine’s Day?”

“Cruise tickets for our honeymoon. That was good too.”

“So get over it already. We are in healed territory when it comes to my gift giving. I am not working out any guilt via a gift.” He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“I don’t need anything, Max.”

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