Stepping Into Sunlight (34 page)

Wednesday night, we went to the mission prayer service. Alex joined his throaty voice with Barney’s and added a deep resonance to the old hymns. Even more uplifting, Ashley slipped in after the service started and spent some time talking with Lydia afterward. Maybe Ashley would volunteer to help with the preschoolers. Maybe she’d also find deeper help for her soul than Dr. Marci could provide. The support group was a blessing, but counseling only held pieces of answers. Good pieces. After all, the right medicine helped Alex manage his depression. But God also gave the profound gift of himself to reclaim broken spirits.

Saturday morning, before my brother headed back to Texas, he came over for a breakfast of pancakes. Alex shoveled food into his mouth, and held up his plate for more. Bryan copied him, and my brother grinned. “So are you and Tom traveling to Wisconsin for Christmas?”

“We hope to. If he can get enough time off. What about you?”

His eyes clouded. “Maybe. I don’t want to make any promises. I hate letting people down.” He stood up and stretched. “I better hit the road. Thanks for letting me visit.”

“Thanks for helping me go back.”

“Glad I could be there for you.”

The second his car rattled away, Bryan tugged on my arm. “Jim-Bob and his whole family are going to the zoo and said I could go with. Okay? It’s a good idea, right?”

I knelt and faced him. “Sweetie, you didn’t invite yourself, did you?”

His eyes angled sideways, and his tongue poked out at an opposite angle. “I only said I like going to the zoo.”

“Remember what I said about how it’s not polite to beg for a bite when your friend is eating a candy bar? It’s the same idea. You can’t just ask if you can go along because it puts Jim-Bob’s mom on the spot.”

Bryan met my gaze firmly. “Jim-Bob wants me to go.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean his mom was planning on bringing extra kids.”

“But, Mo-om, they have real tigers.”

I sighed. “You’re missing the point.” I stood up and tousled his hair. “Let me call Jim-Bob’s mom.”

He beamed as I walked to the kitchen, dialed, and chatted with Laura-Beth. She assured me she was delighted to take Bryan along, and that if I didn’t mind her saying, I should try to get him to the zoo more often.

An hour later, I found myself alone in the house.

All the last boxes from our Wisconsin life were unpacked, and our new world was neatly organized. The rooms were tidy, and even the laundry pile was a foothill instead of a mountain. For a solid week, I’d stayed awake each day and slept through the night. Making a phone call caused only minor anxiety, and even short errands had become second nature again. In a few weeks, Tom would return, and I’d have something of myself to offer him again. He’d promised to love me through any struggle, but I was relieved to know I wouldn’t be a huge burden on him—that my fears no longer consumed all my energy.

I wandered into the living room and picked up my notebook. I’d taped the torn yellow cover back together and reattached it to the spiral binding. I might be past the worst of my PTSD, but I wasn’t abandoning Penny’s Project. There were other enemies in my life besides trauma and panic attacks. Life was full of temptations to isolate and withdraw. Earbuds shut the world out. Instant messaging and Internet chat rooms substituted for human contact.

I grabbed my pen and wrote
. Lord, you are substantial. Real.
Help me be more like you.

When I looked up, the clutter of Netflix movies caught my eye. Time to cancel that subscription. Nothing wrong with an occasional movie, but I needed to cut back and leave more time for human interactions.

I slid discs into their return envelopes and put Bryan’s scattered movies into their cases. As always, I came up with one extra disc. Silver, unlabeled, winking at me.

“Last try,” I whispered. “Please show me Tom’s last message.”

Today, the DVD sprang to life. Afraid any movement would cause it to cut out, I sat immobile on the edge of the couch and let it run from the beginning. I slowly relaxed, convinced the disc was done toying with me.

“Message five.” Tom glanced as his watch. “I just have a minute to get to a meeting, so it’ll be short.

“I want to tell you one more time. I love you.

“I loved you when we met in college, and you debated our PolySci prof. You have more determination than anyone I know. And no matter how many papers you had due, you always had a plan to keep them under control.

“I loved you the day of our wedding. When you walked toward me, it hit me that you’d chosen me, over every other guy. I knew God had given me the best gift He’d ever given a human on this planet.

“And I loved you when Bryan was born. Watching you in pain was one of the hardest days of my life, and I wondered if anyone could survive what you were going through. And between every contraction, you smiled and squeezed my hand and told me you were fine. I wish I had your strength.”

His sentences tumbled together.
Slow down, Tom. Let me savor
this.

He barely paused for a breath. “Tomorrow’s the day. My first deployment. Don’t know if I’ll be able to handle the things that come up. And, hey”—he leaned forward and stage whispered —“that’s for your ears only. As far as the chain of command knows, I am brimming with confidence.”

I giggled and rocked back. “I promise not to tell.”

“We’re both facing challenges. This time apart is going to change us both.”

He was right. Would I even know him when he came home? Would we feel like strangers?

He squared his jaw. “My love isn’t going to change. And when I come home we’ll catch up on the experiences we’ve had. We’re going to come out of this closer than before. So hang on a little longer. I’ll see you soon.”

He stood and stepped around his desk.

He couldn’t stop now. I needed more messages.

I caught one last flash of his sleeve as he stepped past the camera. Then the recording ended.

The couch cushions welcomed me as I sank back and closed my eyes. Instead of replaying the DVD, I reviewed the conversation in my mind. Emotions swam through me—tenderness, pride, yearning. Slowly, one thought flutter kicked to the surface.

I was the most blessed woman on the planet.

“Thank you, Lord.” I reached for my notebook again. This prayer needed to be written down so I could share it with Tom when he got home.

Thank you for Tom and his beautiful messages. Thank you for sending
support every time I needed it. Thank you for staying beside me in the
darkest places, and walking with me to places where the sun rises again.
Amen.

I paged back. Tom was right. This experience had changed me. I could read the change unfold on paper and ink. I held the notebook open at my goal of being in the Thanksgiving play. I’d blown that chance. I’d let Bryan down. But maybe there was still a way to serve the school and bring my son a little joy. A new idea sprouted to life, and I began to scribble, a grin growing across my face.

Tom came home in the afternoon. A brilliant, cool, amazing early-November afternoon.

We’d agreed I wouldn’t stand on the dock with the crowds, because he still had responsibilities, and my presence would distract him as he provided reintegration care to the men and women from his ship.

Mary Jo called and let me know when the ship docked. From that moment I began to pace the house. Bryan was still in school, and the quiet made each minute stretch.

Using a curling iron on my hair one strand at a time filled an hour. By the time I finished, the spirals on the first side were straightening already. A futile effort, but it gave me something to do. My reflection blinked back from the bathroom mirror. Did I look the same? My eyes definitely had more life in them than back in September when Tom left.

I checked the roast I’d prepared and added a few more potatoes and carrots. The pan was ready to pop in the oven an hour before supper. I put candles on the table and stared at my watch. Each car that rolled by found me pressing my nose against the window, heart racing so much, I feared triggering another panic attack.

A distraction was in order. I flopped on the couch and picked up my little notebook. Somewhere in these past months, God had not only healed the effects of the crime, He had kindled love in my heart again. I lost myself in memories of friends and strangers, of smiles and moments of comfort. My days had filled with small efforts, sometimes wrenched from the deepest places of my soul, but always guided and supported by God’s hands.

A car door slammed in front of the house. The notebook fell from my hands, and I sprang to my feet.

Suddenly I couldn’t move.

Had he changed? Would there be an awkward gulf between us after so much time? Would we be strangers?

The door opened.

Tom shouldered his way forward and then tossed his heavy bag to the side.

His cheeks were windburned, ruddier than I remembered. His shoulders seemed broader, filling the entryway. He gave the room a quick scan. Bryan’s bright handmade sign hung on the living room wall. Clusters of balloons dangled in each corner.

His smile acknowledged the decorations, but then his eyes locked on mine. “I’m home.” The words were so low I almost didn’t hear them, more a sigh of relief than a greeting. He took a step forward and paused. I realized he felt the same first-date shyness that gripped me.

“Penny?” He stared straight into my heart. All the swirling deep of oceans pulled me into his eyes.

I leapt across the few feet still between us.

Finally, finally, my husband’s arms wrapped around me again. I clung to him and burrowed my nose into his shoulder as if I could be completely absorbed by him—his strength, his love.

“I missed you so much.” My words were muffled against his shirt. I wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle of tears.

He gave another squeeze, then eased me back and coaxed my chin up.

I met his gaze, unafraid to let him see my smile. Confident, strong, and utterly in love. “Welcome home, Chaplain Tom.”

He kissed me, and I tasted coffee and smelled briny ocean breezes on his skin. His tenderness deepened to something more urgent, and his hands moved over me, leaving me breathless.

“What time does Bryan’s bus get here?”

I glanced at the clock. “We’ve still got an hour.”

Tom’s smile grew, and he buried his hands in my hair and captured my lips again.

Several weeks later, I wrestled the squirming python in my belly into submission and stepped onto the Jackson Elementary School stage. “Good evening.” The microphone hummed softly, and then my voice lurched up in volume as someone adjusted it. “Thank you to everyone who joined in our food drive. I’m happy to report that we were able to fill twenty baskets that the New Life Mission will distribute to families in our community who need extra support.” The effort of squeezing the words out left me breathless. I forced my arm to lift toward the stage-left wings, trying to beckon Lydia forward with a graceful gesture. It probably looked more like the flail of a drowning swimmer.

Lydia marched out to join me and grabbed the microphone from the stand. “Y’all are welcome to come to our prayer service any Wednesday night. Don’t know anyone that doesn’t benefit from a little prayin’, right? Thanks to all of you for givin’ from your hearts. And thanks to Penny for organizing this project. Now let’s get on with the play.” She stuffed the microphone back into the holder and gave me a warm hug. Applause rose through the gym while she whispered in my ear. “They don’t know what this took out of you. But Jesus does. And I’m thinkin’ He’s good and proud of you.”

“I’m glad I thought of it. All it took was a few flyers and phone calls.”

I caught sight of Bryan in the wings. His grin caught the light, and he gave me a thumbs-up sign.

Lydia released me. “A few phone calls and a bucketload of courage.” She pointed her chin toward the handsome man in the third row, applauding more fiercely than the rest. “I’m thinkin’ he’s proud of you, too.”

Six-foot-one of handsome Navy chaplain with fair hair and sea-flecked hazel eyes, Tom pushed out of the metal folding chair to lead a standing ovation. Warmth swelled under my sweater, stretching the cable-knit stitches. It was still hard to take in.
Tom
is home. He’s home!