“I felt that way, too, but Tara doesn’t believe me.” Tim tossed his hands in the air. “There’s no question we want to be together, but we can’t get beyond the past.”
Tim and Tara’s words could have been their own a year ago, when Abby’s father died. Without a doubt Abby and John knew that day that they still cared for each other, still wanted each other, but the mountain of hurt was simply too high to scale.
“After Tim moved away, he began dating.” The pain showed in Tara’s eyes. “Here I was grieving all we’d lost, and he’s out in New Jersey getting a new haircut, a new job, and a new girlfriend. Sometimes every few weeks. How could I compete with that?”
Tim turned his hands palm up. “Those girls meant nothing. I was running from the pain. Everything I did was my way of running. Even buying Jake the Integra.”
There was silence between them for a moment, and Abby drew a quiet breath. “May I say something?”
“Please.” Tim was quick to answer. “That’s why we came.”
Abby looked at John, silently asking him if it was okay to share the details of their situation. The peace in his eyes told her that he would have it no other way. She smiled and then shifted her gaze to Tara.
“When John and I were having trouble, he spent time with one of the teachers at school. She doesn’t work there anymore, and her name isn’t important. The thing is, it made me mad. Jealous, really. She was younger than I was, more professional. I figured I couldn’t compete with her, didn’t
want
to compete with her. I still felt angry and jealous even after John began doing everything he could to make things right between us.”
Tara nodded. “Exactly.”
“The thing I had to learn was this: Sometimes love makes a mistake. Even a series of mistakes. When I married John, I promised to love him in good times and bad. No matter what happened.” Abby kept her voice tender, but let her passion show, too. A passion she hoped Tara would hear. “John wanted to make things right between us, but I wasn’t willing to forgive him. And you know what? At that point he wasn’t the one breaking our wedding vows—I was. I refused to trust him, even after he’d told me time and again that he hadn’t had an affair. I wanted to punish him for even finding another woman attractive, for befriending her and being tempted by her. And because of that I could justify treating him—” she searched for the right word—“cruelly. Because my feelings had been hurt and I thought he deserved it.”
A quiet settled over them again. John looked at Tim. “Of course, I didn’t understand any of that. I just figured she wasn’t capable of forgiving me.”
There were tears in Tara’s eyes and she dabbed at them discretely. “How . . . how did you get past it?”
“Memories.” John sat back, his eyes only semifocused. “Our divorce plans ran right along the same time frame as Nicole’s engagement. It was wedding dresses this, and churches that, and what about our vows, Daddy . . .” He shook his head. “What else could we do but remember how it had been for us twenty years earlier.”
“How we fell in love as kids and how magical it was when we first got married.” Abby smiled. “Even then it wasn’t easy.”
“The memories came at us separately.” John gave a sad chuckle. “Neither of us knew how to approach the other about them, and because of that, we were ready to go ahead with our plans.”
“What stopped you?” Another tear spilled onto Tara’s cheek.
“God.” John and Abby said the answer at the same time and then looked at each other and grinned. John shot a pointed look at Tim. “God might as well have sent us a telegram.” John deepened his voice. “‘John and Abby Reynolds . . . do NOT get divorced. I made you for each other . . . forgive and forget . . . and move on in the joyful life I have for you.’”
Abby met Tara’s eyes. “Do you ever feel that way, Tara? Like God wants you to let go of the hurt and anger and simply love each other?”
“All the time.”
“Then why haven’t you done it?”
“Because. I’m afraid it’ll happen again.” She looked at Tim. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved, but when you left me, I hated you. And . . . and I swore you’d never break my heart like you did before. Even if you begged me to come back.”
“The problem—” John’s voice was gentle once more—“is one that’s gotten mankind into trouble since the beginning.”
“Which
problem?” Tim wrung his hands.
“Pride.” John smiled. “It’s why Adam and Eve took the apple— because they thought they were smarter than God. They wanted to be like God. And it’s why good couples—loving couples like the two of you or Abby and me—start going in different directions and wind up believing divorce is the only solution.” He took Abby’s hand. “When really, the only solution is to grab tight to each other, forgive, and go on.”
For a while none of them said anything. Then John made one final point. “Remember, the devil has always been behind the sin of pride. He wants us to think we can’t forgive, can’t live humbly with each other. But the devil has an agenda. He wants us to be miserable.”
Tim stared at John. “And you think that’s all divorce is? Two people listening to the devil’s lies?”
“Most of the time, yes. When we say those wedding vows, the last thing on our mind is divorce. Isn’t that right?”
Tara and Tim nodded.
“For me, I was up there knowing Abby was the only woman I’d ever loved, the only one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
“That’s exactly how I felt.” Tim set his hand on Tara’s knee, and she let it stay there.
“So only a lie could change that, right? Otherwise the love I shared with Abby should’ve gotten better with each year.” There was regret in John’s voice. The regret Abby knew they both carried. A regret that realized the value of all those years they lost back when they were living separate lives under one roof.
“Instead—” Abby finished John’s thought—“we began thinking badly of each other. Pretty soon we were listening to the lie, believing we deserved something better than a life together.”
“When we really needed to stop running, forgive each other, and remember all the reasons we got married in the first place.”
Tara sniffed, her eyes dry now. “It’s all about forgiveness.”
“Yes.” Abby’s heart went out to the woman. “It is.” She felt a pang of regret. How awful it had been living on the other side of forgiveness. Holding on to bitterness and working to hate the man she’d pledged her life to.
John leaned back, more relaxed now. “The Bible tells a story about a man who was forgiven a great debt by the king. The moment he was free, he ran through the streets looking for his fellow servant. When he found him, he grabbed the man by the cloak. ‘You owe me, buddy,’ the guy said. ‘Pay up or I’ll throw you into debtor’s prison!’
“When the king found out what happened, he called for the man. ‘The debt I forgave you was far greater than the debt your fellow servant owed. Now, since you couldn’t find it in your heart to forgive the smaller amount, neither will I forgive you the large amount.’ And with that he threw the man into prison.”
Abby loved the way John could come up with an illustration from Scripture like that. He had always been a storyteller. It was what made him a good teacher, a strong communicator. But now that he was back at church with Abby every week, he constantly came up with stories like the one he’d just told.
Abby searched Tim’s and Tara’s faces and saw that they understood.
“God’s forgiven us—” Tara sniffed—“much more than we could ever need to forgive someone else.”
“Exactly.” John’s tone rang with compassion.
Tara moved to the edge of her seat. “Pray for me, will you? That I’ll find a way to forgive.”
Without hesitating, John did just that. When they were done, he looked at Abby. “Honey, take off my shoes, will you?”
She wasn’t sure what he was up to, but she liked his grin. With a light heart, she stooped down in front of him and slipped his shoes off. Then she returned to her chair and waited.
Tim and Tara looked at his feet, their faces a twist of curiosity.
“Watch.” John pointed to his toes. “There’s something I want you to pass on to that son of yours.”
Whatever he was about to do, even Abby had no idea. It was one thing that John’s toes had occasionally moved in some involuntary manner. But this . . . what was he up to?
Then, with all of their eyes glued to his two big toes, Abby saw it. The toes moved! Both of them. Just a little wiggle, but there was no denying the fact. Abby let out a cry and threw her arms around John’s neck. “It’s happening, John. I can’t believe it.”
Across the room, Tim and Tara looked stunned, like they’d just seen John levitate. Tim was the first to recover. “What . . . how did . . . John, does your doctor know about that?”
“Yes.” John pulled Abby over onto his lap. “It’s a form of spinal shock. Really rare. They’re operating on me next month. There’s a chance I’ll get full use of my legs back.”
“Oh my goodness.” Tara’s hands flew to her mouth. “Jake told me he asked God for a miracle. That you’d . . . you’d walk again someday.”
Tim looked at her. “He didn’t tell me.”
“It’s true.” Her eyes were still wide, still focused on John’s two big toes. “He thought God had told him that’s exactly what would happen. Coach Reynolds would get better. But as the months went by, nothing happened. Jake . . . he stopped talking about it.”
“Well, tell him to keep praying.” John grinned, his arm tight around Abby’s waist. “Miracles happen to those who believe.”
Long after Tim and Tara had gone, after John had gone into their new first-floor bedroom for a nap, Abby sat at the dining room table and stared out at the lake. John was right. Miracles did happen to those who believed. After all, Nicole had prayed for Abby and John. And Jake had prayed about John’s damaged legs. And now the boy had a sense everything was going to work out for John.
She sat there a long time, praying for baby Haley, talking to God and marveling at His plan for their lives. The more she thought about the discussion with Tim and Tara, the more convinced she became that whatever was happening with John’s legs, it was only part of the miracle Jake was about to receive.
The other part, Abby was almost certain, would happen any day now, when a certain couple just might walk through the door and announce that by God’s grace and forgiveness, Jake’s father was never moving back to New Jersey.
By Sunday afternoon, the baby had survived three days, which was more than the doctors had thought possible. She still struggled for every breath, but Nicole had recovered quickly and spent nearly every waking moment anchored beside the baby’s incubator. She was allowed to reach inside and run her finger along Haley’s small leg or arm. The opening was just large enough so Nicole could see her baby respond to not only her touch, but her voice.
There was a tap on her shoulder, and Nicole turned around. It was Jo, her eyes red and swollen. “Hi.”
“Jo, hi . . . sit down.”
Jo nodded and slid a chair over next to Nicole’s. “How is she?”
“Holding on.” Nicole studied the woman. Jo defined intensity. Whatever her mood, she played it to the furthest degree. But here, now, she was quiet, pensive. Defeated, even. “You okay?”
“Sure.” Jo’s eyes grew watery. “Where’s Matt?”
“At home getting some sleep. He’s barely closed his eyes since the baby was born.”
For a while they sat that way, watching little Haley, willing her small chest to continue it’s up-and-down struggle. After five minutes had passed, Jo drew a sharp breath. “Nicole, I have something to tell you.”
She turned her head enough to glance at Jo. “I’m listening.”
“Oh, brother.” Jo rolled her eyes and dabbed at her nose. “Never in a million years did I think I’d ever tell anyone about this. Least of all you or Matt.”
Nicole studied the woman. Whatever it was, the burden of it weighed on her like a diesel truck. “You can tell me, Jo.”
She cast Nicole a wary eye. “Don’t hate me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“See . . .” She huffed hard, searching for the words. “It happened a long time back, back when me and Denny were first married.” Jo wiped her hands on her pant legs and stared at baby Haley. “We were young and stupid, and just a few weeks after the weddin’ we found out I was pregnant.”
Pregnant? Nicole tried not to act surprised. Jo was right. Neither she nor Matt had ever heard this story. She waited for Jo to continue.
“We were scared, I mean really scared.” Jo shook her head. “Like a coupla fish at the end of a line. No matter which way we turned, didn’t seem to be no way out. You know?”
“I do.” Nicole hoped her face reflected the empathy she was feeling. It was exactly how she’d felt when she found out she was pregnant. The way she probably still would feel if God hadn’t changed her attitude.
“Back then . . . well, me and Denny didn’t have God. No one around us did, either. So . . .” Her voice cracked, and she hung her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can finish.”
A dawning of understanding shone across the landscape of Nicole’s heart. Had the woman done something to end her pregnancy? Nicole reached out and took Jo’s weathered hand in her own. “Nothing you could tell me would make me love you less, Jo. You don’t have to share this . . . but I want you to know that.”
Jo struggled to regain control. When she could speak again, she cast a quick look at Nicole. “I got an abortion, Nicole.” She nodded, giving a single loud sniff. “Denny drove me to the clinic and waited in the lobby. And back in one of them dingy rooms, this handsome man came to me and told me it was all going to be okay. All I had to do was lay real still and tell him if I felt any pain. The pregnancy would be gone in no time.”
Tears spilled onto Nicole’s cheeks, and her heart broke for Jo. She wasn’t sure what she should say, so she kept quiet.
“Isn’t that something? The pregnancy would be gone . . . as if there wasn’t any baby involved.” Jo wiped her eyes. “But it was more than a pregnancy. I was five months along by the time I went in and one of the nurses told me.” The words caught in Jo’s throat for a moment. “It was a girl, Nicole. A little girl like your Haley. Only instead of helping her live, I helped her die.”