Sunset: 4 (Sunrise) (21 page)

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Authors: Karen Kingsbury

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BOOK: Sunset: 4 (Sunrise)
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Katy laughed. “Probably. But one thing stands out. Even if the whole world thinks otherwise, you have to expect the best of the people you love. I knew Dayne. I absolutely knew him. But I let myself be tricked into thinking the worst of the man I loved. I’ll never do that again.”

Just for that moment, Ashley was glad Reagan wasn’t here. The fact was, she’d expected the best of Luke and he’d let her down. But even then there was something to what Katy was saying. In the process of forgiveness, people needed to think the best of each other also. Otherwise there could be no progress at all.

“In some ways I feel like you a little,” Kari told Elaine. “Because I had two love stories.” She gave a sad smile to each of her sisters and Katy. “All of you know about Tim and how that ended.” She turned her attention to Elaine again. “But I’m not sure you know about my past with Ryan.”

“Not really.” Elaine was caught up in the stories, gripped by the details that would now make up part of the fabric of her family life as well.

Kari explained how she and Ryan were childhood sweethearts and how after he went to college on a football scholarship, things grew distant between them. He was playing for the pros when he suffered an injury that nearly paralyzed him. What happened next involved a strange and sad set of circumstances. Kari went to the hospital. When she asked a nurse if she could go into Ryan’s room, the nurse said that his girlfriend was with him. “I thought the girl she was talking about was someone other than me. So I left and never looked back.”

After that, since she and Ryan hadn’t been talking much in the year that led up to his accident, they simply moved on with their separate lives. Ryan fought back to health and took a position coaching, and Kari fell in love with and married Tim. “The timing was so interesting, because Ryan came back into my life before Tim’s death. While Tim was still having the affair. But I knew with everything in me that God didn’t want me falling for Ryan while there was still a chance that Tim and I could work things out in our marriage.”

Eventually Ryan made a determination to stay in New York City, where he was coaching for the Giants. Even after Tim’s murder, Ryan came to visit Kari only once, when Jessie was born. After that it was nearly a year before God made it clear that the two of them belonged together.

“God’s taught me so much over this journey. I guess most of all that love is a decision. I didn’t give up on Tim, and he found forgiveness before his death. I’ll always be grateful for that.” Kari’s voice was thick with emotion. “But I also learned that I need to pay attention to God’s prompting, to the quiet, gentle way He speaks to us in our everyday life.”

Ashley was trying to figure out how to condense her story into a few minutes when suddenly it was her turn. “I was afraid to love; that’s what it came down to. Landon always knew it, and he loved me anyway. Something I’ll never understand.”

She drew a deep breath and started at the beginning. “I was rebellious and difficult. I dressed differently, acted differently. I went against everything the Baxter family stood for.” She had nothing to hide now, no reason to soften the reality of the story. “Landon fell for me in high school, but I thought he was too safe, too clean-cut.”

Her sisters knew her story, but Katy had never heard all the details and neither had Elaine, so she included every aspect of what happened next. “I went to Paris with sheer defiance in my heart. I connected with one of the top art galleries, with the goal to have them look at my paintings.”

But that never happened. Instead she’d met up with one of the premier French artists of the day. His interest in her had nothing to do with her artwork, and soon their friendship became an intimate and forbidden affair. “He was married.” Ashley’s voice was heavy with the pain that still came from remembering that time. “But in his circles married men had affairs all the time, so I let him convince me that our relationship was normal.”

When Ashley learned she was pregnant, he turned mean. “He told me he didn’t want to see me again and that the abortion clinic was down the street.” A shudder worked its way down Ashley’s spine, and goose bumps broke out along her arms. “I went there. . . . I almost did it.”

Quiet hung over the room, and Ashley could feel the love and support coming from everyone gathered around her. “Only God could’ve grabbed me out of that place and sent me back home.” Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her sisters. “I felt like my family could never accept me, especially Luke. But he came around eventually.”

Ashley explained that in the years after Cole was born, she was unable to feel or forgive herself, unable to fully love or find the energy to paint. But all that changed when she began working at Sunset Hills Adult Care Home. Helping the Alzheimer’s patients reminded Ashley of something she’d forgotten. Every day she was making memories that she would fall back on one day when she was relegated to a nursing home. She was especially touched by Irvel, a woman whose love for her husband continued in a very vivid way, despite the fact that he had died many years earlier.

“My heart was healing, and Landon had come back into my life, but I was so confused.” She sighed and laced her fingers over one knee. “Not until 9/11 did I really understand how much I loved him. And then . . . well, then the real struggle began.”

Once Ashley was able to identify her feelings for Landon, she convinced herself that he deserved someone better than her. “On top of everything else, I had a huge health scare, a misdiagnosed positive reading for an HIV test.” She dabbed her eyes. “I could never have put Landon through that.”

Finally, Landon returned from New York, and Ashley learned that her health was fine. “After that, there was no turning back. I’ll love Landon until the day I die. I pray that if God takes him before me, I’ll have the sort of beautiful memories Irvel had of her dear Hank.”

Kari wiped at the corners of her eyes too. “All of us were so grateful when you and Landon got married. I think Mom and Dad prayed about that every day for two years.” As soon as Kari mentioned their mother, she looked at Elaine. “I mean . . . that’s how strongly they felt about Ashley and Landon as a couple.”

“It’s okay, remember? You can include her when I’m around.” Elaine’s voice was calm and full of a sweet sense of peace. “Ashley’s story is beautiful, and it very much involves your mother. I believe God let her live long enough to see that wedding. It meant that much to her.”

Ashley’s throat felt thick, and she was quiet for a few seconds. Her emotions were high anyway, and now with Elaine showing such grace and understanding, it was all Ashley could do to keep herself from breaking down. She studied the woman seated across from her, the one who would soon marry her father. And before she might change her mind, she stood, crossed the room to Elaine, leaned down, and hugged her. When she could find her voice, she whispered the words pressing against her soul. “Thank you for letting us keep our mom . . . even when you’re here.”

Elaine stood. For several seconds she clung to Ashley. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Eventually the moment passed, and Ashley returned to her seat. Around the room came the sound of sniffling.

Finally Brooke faced Ashley. “You didn’t tell us what God taught you along the way.”

It took Ashley a few seconds to realize Brooke was kidding, and by then a chorus of laughter had begun and was building with contagious fervor throughout the room.

Ashley allowed her own joy to mingle with the others’. The lessons God had taught her were so obvious they hardly needed to be restated. In some ways it was the same lesson He had taught all of them, the one Ashley had read about in Psalm 130 two months ago. For by putting their hope in the Lord and His unfailing love, they had all found the redemption they’d so desperately needed.

Ashley maybe most of all.

 

Brilliant blue filled the sky outside John’s open bedroom window as he woke. It was early, just past six, but already there was the familiar sound of birds in the trees adjacent to the house. John squinted at the sunlight streaming into the room, the sort of bright sunshine that marked early summer mornings and new beginnings. Fitting, he thought, and as he did he slowly began to realize that this was Saturday, the day he’d looked forward to and in some ways feared since he proposed to Elaine.

Today was his wedding day.

He made no sudden move to get out of bed. There was too much to think through, too much to consider first. He breathed in deep and took stock of his room. This was the very last time he would wake up here. Tonight he and Elaine would leave for a honeymoon road trip, stopping at bed-and-breakfasts between here and northern Michigan, and when they returned home, they would begin life in their new house. They had closed on it three days ago, and already they’d purchased new bedroom furniture.

He stretched his arm to the empty side of his bed and ran his fingers over the smooth, cool sheets, the place where Elizabeth had slept beside him all those years. After today he wouldn’t wake up alone again, and suddenly he felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff about to free-fall into a vast and unknown chasm. How could he walk away from the home he’d made with Elizabeth, from the memories the old place held and from the bedroom they’d shared?

Then just as quickly his fears subsided. Last night they’d had a simple rehearsal, and afterward they’d gone to their new house, walking through the rooms deciding which of their existing sofas would look best against which wall, then going over the plans to have his kids help with the move once the honeymoon was over. They ended the night by sitting outside on the new glider they’d bought for the front porch.

Now John could feel his heart rate return to normal as he remembered the conversation from last night.

“It won’t be easy for either of us, starting over again.” Elaine’s eyes had given him a transparent look straight to her heart. “We’re going to need time to work through all the changes.”

Her words gave him the greatest sense of relief. “I thought . . . I was the only one feeling that way.”

She smiled. “It would be easier for both of us to keep things the way they were, living out our lives in the comfort of the past.”

“But easier isn’t always better.” He put his arm around her shoulders, his eyes still focused on hers.

“Exactly.”

The conversation faded from his mind, and he eased himself up to a sitting position. Elaine understood. This morning she was no doubt going through the same mix of emotions, excited about the future and yet deeply aware of all that had brought them to this day. The closure that would come because of it. The heartache and loss they’d both survived was one reason they’d found a friendship in the first place, but today their overriding joy was bound to mingle, at least in part, with some of that same hurt.

The wedding would take place at four this afternoon, followed by a dinner reception at Katy and Dayne’s. The invitation list wasn’t quite fifty people—family and a few close friends. John had lots of time between now and then, and he already had his day mapped out. Breakfast and Bible time at the dining room table; then he would spend a few hours in the garden, tending to Elizabeth’s roses.

The buyer had closed on the Baxter house nearly a week ago now. John had until the second week in July before he needed to be completely out, enough time to move the furniture he was keeping into the new house, time to let his kids go through what remained in case there was anything they wanted. But it was important that he turn over the house in good condition with the rose garden and yards manicured and attractive, the way he and Elizabeth had always kept it.

Erin and Sam, who would move to town next weekend, had asked for the bedroom furniture, and John was glad. Even after so many decades, the old pieces were in great shape, and at least now the sentimental set would stay in the family.

Slowly John slid his legs over the side of the bed, and as he did his eyes fell on the photo of him and Elizabeth, the one that sat atop the dresser in the corner of the room. The portrait that had brought him such comfort in the months and years since her death.

Without warning, a sense of gut-wrenching betrayal dug its claws into his shoulders and refused to let go. He could never replace what he’d shared with Elizabeth, so why was he about to try? How could he stand in front of his family and friends and pledge a lifetime of love to another woman?

He stood and took measured steps across his room to the dresser, and almost in slow motion he reached out and took hold of the framed photo. Elizabeth’s eyes seemed to be looking straight at him, loving him unconditionally, bringing no judgment even today. “Elizabeth, darling, I didn’t want it to go this way.” His voice was so soft it barely made any sound at all. “I promise I still feel you here with me, as real as if you were standing at my side.”

For a long time, he studied the photo, memorizing it, allowing the image to burn itself even more deeply into his heart. He would keep the picture, the same way Elaine would keep photos of herself with her deceased husband. But would he ever have a moment like this again, where he could look at her eyes and long for her the way he did right now? Or would that be another betrayal, the kind that went against Elaine?

The weight of his emotions and the burden of responsibility that came with choosing to remarry pressed in against him from every side. He set the photo back on the dresser and opened the top drawer. This was where he kept his own copy of Elizabeth’s book of letters. After making one for each of the kids, it had taken little time to put one together for himself. Not that he’d leave it out on the coffee table at their new house, but he wanted it handy.

He pulled it out and tenderly carried it back to the edge of his bed. He sat down, the book on his lap, and opened the front cover.
I need to read something from her, something to help me shake the awful sense that I’m doing something wrong by marrying Elaine, that I’m somehow hurting her. . . .

John began flipping through the pages of the book. Many of Elizabeth’s letters had helped him over the years since her death, but right now he wasn’t sure where to turn, which page would contain the assurance he needed.

He took hold of a section of pages and stopped at a letter near the back of the book. Elizabeth had used floral paper, and the vividness of her handwriting stood out more sharply on this one than the others. His book did not contain copies of her letters but the originals. He ran his thumb over the page and with great reverence began at the top.

My dearest John,

He closed his eyes and willed himself to remember her voice, the songlike quality of her tone and the hope that rang out from her soul with every word. When he could hear it again, when her voice was so clear it was as if she were sitting beside him talking to him, he opened his eyes and continued.

Ever since I got sick again, I’ve felt more inclined to write to you. I bring this silly pad of paper with me so that when I’m hooked up to the chemo I have something to take my mind off the treatment. Whenever I place my pen to the paper, my heart turns to you. I’ve told you before that I believe with all my heart God will heal me. Eventually I will be whole and well again. I’m convinced. But I think you and I both know that healing can happen here . . . or it can happen in heaven.

I’m not trying to be negative with this letter, but if God chooses that my healing doesn’t happen until heaven, there are some things I want you to know. First, that you’ve given me a life of love I never could’ve had otherwise. My greatest dreams about marriage pale in comparison to the decades you’ve created for the two of us. I understand that as you’ve looked to God for wisdom and leadership, He’s equipped you to be the man you are. Without our Lord none of this wonderful journey would’ve been possible. So let me just say here that I am grateful for the privilege of loving you, the privilege of being loved by you, and I will remain grateful as long as I live.

John looked away from the scrapbook page and turned his attention to the open bedroom window. The blue was deeper now, the rays of sunlight a warmer golden color.
The privilege was all mine, Elizabeth. All mine.
With her words filling his mind and heart, he truly could feel her beside him, sharing a morning together one last time. He looked back at the letter and found his place.

Secondly, I want to give you a very special gift, John. The gift of choosing life for yourself no matter what happens with me. I know I’ve written to you about this before, but I think it’s worth repeating. Deuteronomy tells us that God sets before His people life and death and that He urges us at every turn to choose life.

It was the same message John had seen in another of Elizabeth’s letters, the same Bible verse. God must’ve been making a great impression on Elizabeth to make sure he knew her heart, that she would want him to embrace life—even if that life didn’t include her.

You see, love, I’m choosing life right this minute sitting in this chair with the chemo dripping into my veins. I want to live because I want to grow old with you. I want to live to see the birth of our future grandkids and great-grandkids. I want to see the story of our children’s lives unfold in the decades yet to come.

The wording stopped there, but the ending felt strangely abrupt. Was it possible the letter continued on the other side? Typically Elizabeth used a second piece of paper rather than write on the back of a single sheet. But John had the sudden strange sense that this letter was the exception. He eased his thumb beneath the tape at the bottom of the page, and when he’d broken through it, he carefully lifted the page.

Sure enough, there was more to the letter on the back. John felt his breathing quicken as he rotated the book so he could read the writing. He began at the top.

But I also know that God might have another plan for me. If He does, then you must continue with the same fervor for life that we shared as a couple. What I’m saying is you must choose life. I would never want you to waste away in the shadow of all that was. Not if I’m no longer here to be a part of your life. In that case, you must embrace new adventures and new friendships, and you must follow where those friendships lead. If it means remarrying someday, then remarry. And do so with a full and whole heart, knowing that somewhere in heaven I’ll be cheering you on.

John’s breath caught in his throat, and he read that last section again.
If it means remarrying someday, then remarry?
He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was convinced he’d never read this letter before, not in its entirety. The book probably held more than a hundred notes and letters from Elizabeth, so somehow he must have overlooked the back of this one.

But to find it here . . . today . . . A shiver came over him, and he found his place once more.

I hope you understand the tone and intention behind this letter. I won’t give it to you right away but only if it seems fairly certain that God is planning to heal me in heaven and not here. Until then I will continue to choose life, and I will believe that you will do the same. Whether I’m here or not.

With all my love,

Elizabeth

With great care, John straightened the sheet of paper and closed the book. Then he did something he’d done often throughout his life when his desperate need for Christ was so pressing he could hardly draw a breath and when the realness of God’s miraculous presence was so strong he could do nothing but cry out in praise.

This was one of those times.

He dropped to his knees at the foot of his bed and buried his face in his hands. The oppressive weight of betrayal was gone completely, and in its place his heart and soul were filled with a joy that knew no limits, a joy that was supernatural.
God, my Lord, You are so faithful, so kind and good. I asked for a sign, and You answered me in a way that leaves me breathless.

My son, love is of God. . . . Anyone who loves is born of God and knows God.

John was overcome by the presence and Spirit of the Lord, sheltering him, surrounding him like a cloud of love and peace that was simply beyond anything he’d ever felt. The response was straight from Scripture, from 1 John, and in it was proof of God’s love for him but also of God’s endorsement of love between His people. Especially married love between a man and a woman, equally determined to serve Him.

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