Fireproof (27 page)

He stared at the clock in the meeting room, desperately hoping for the hours to pass quickly. He wanted to see her. Talk with her. Be with her.

“Captain?”

Caleb turned toward Lieutenant Simmons, who displayed a sympathetic grin.

“You're gonna stare a hole through that clock if you're not careful.”

Had it been that obvious? They had finished their duties for the day, and now their downtime seemed to tick by in painful slow motion.

“I can hardly stand it,” Caleb admitted. “It's killing me. I've never wanted to get outta here so badly in my life.”

Simmons looked around the station to make sure they were out of earshot, then turned toward his captain with a serious expression. “Sir, that's why I came to talk with you. With all due respect, you need to tend to your illness and head home for the night. I can take responsibility for the remainder of the shift.”

Caleb stared. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about Proverbs 13:12, ‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but desire fulfilled is a tree of life.' I'd say you need to go tend to your sickness, 'cause your symptoms are showin' all over your face.”

Caleb wasn't quite sure how to take this. Part of him wanted to find an excuse,
any
excuse, to go to his love. Was Simmons messing with him?

“Michael,” he said, trying to keep his tone balanced. “You know I can't do that. This may be a huge deal to me, but leaving for a reason like that would have to be cleared by the chief. I wouldn't know how to explain it to him.”

A big smile spread across Michael's face. “That's why I called him for you.”

“You did what?”

“I told him that you were showing signs of emotional distress, and that I believed an extra day off would do you some good. He agreed.”

In normal circumstances Caleb would've asked for more details, but at the moment nothing was more important than getting home.

“One more thing,” Simmons said. “I called Catherine, too, and told her I was covering your shift.”

As Caleb shot up out of the chair, he made eye contact with his lieutenant. “You are a true friend.”

Simmons waved him off. “Stop talking and get outta here. I got this.”

That was all Caleb needed.

CATHERINE'S CAMRY was in the garage when Caleb pulled up. He grabbed his duffel bag and found himself running toward the door.

Take it easy
, he scolded himself.
Be cool.

He took a deep breath and paused just outside the garage door, with the day's events still pouring through his mind. Catherine had come back to him. Not only that, she had seen a true change—a change he could've never made on his own.

Now she wanted it, too.

Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, Lord.

He reached for the doorknob and stepped inside. The first thing that hit him was the scent of her perfume. He'd been aware of it as they embraced in the bay, but now she had obviously sprayed it about their home.

The next thing was the music.

Soft, romantic, and calming.

With his interest piqued, he rounded the corner to the living room where a few candles provided the only light in the house, and scattered rose pedals formed a walkway to the master bedroom. It'd been years since Caleb experienced chills, but now they were racing over his arms, up his back, and across his neck. His heart rate kicked up a notch.

On the coffee table, a simple note sat next to their small kitchen fire extinguisher.

For my wonderful husband,
Use this if things get out of hand.
Love, Catherine

His bag thudded from his hand onto the floor. For a moment, his legs weakened. Not only had he tried to win his wife's heart back, but she was now taking care of his.

And apparently, she was enjoying it.

He followed the path of petals to the bedroom.
Their
bedroom.

That's when he saw her.

Many images in his life had permanently imprinted themselves in Caleb's mind—some good, and some bad. But a new one now took the top spot.

Catherine was beautiful. She stood by the bed with a soft yet hopeful smile, wearing the same garments she'd worn the first night of their honeymoon. They were his favorite. From the night-stand and dresser top, the light of seven candles caressed her skin. Her hair was in his preferred style, flowing down, resting lightly on her smooth shoulders. Her makeup was perfect.

The covers of their bed had been carefully folded back and the last few rose pedals adorned the pillows.

“Welcome home, my husband,” she said with a loving smile.

He tried to catch his breath.

Catherine walked up and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him gently on the lips, then on each cheek. As she gazed into his eyes, something happened that Caleb did not expect.

He began to cry.

It wasn't only that he was here with his wife, or that he now had a right relationship with God. Or that he'd experienced a much deeper understanding of what love really was. It was all of that—every lesson, every truth, every experience.

He had embraced these things with the same passion he now used to embrace his precious wife.

“Caleb, are you okay?” she said.

He smiled at her through his tears, wanting her to know his every thought, to know how overwhelmed he felt at this moment.

“I've never been better in my life,” he said. Then, he reached down and picked her up. “It was a good idea having that fire extinguisher ready. We might need it.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she cooed with a sparkle in her eye.

He carried his bride to the bed that was theirs again. He set her down gently and began kissing her with tender passion.

THEY HAD BREAKFAST together for the first time in months. Caleb had learned from Simmons at the station how to make some mean French toast, and Catherine seemed impressed.

After the meal, Catherine sat staring at him as if it were their first date.

“Tell me what happened to you, Caleb. I want to know everything.”

The door was wide open. He had prayed for such an opportunity to share his new faith with her, the same faith that had changed his father and mother, and his friend, Lt. Michael Simmons.

“Come with me.”He stood and reached for her hand. “I want to show you something.”

They strolled into the woods, Caleb sharing what had happened to him over the past few months. Morning rays gilded draperies of moss in gold and danced across the lake as Caleb and Catherine approached the cross together.

Hand in hand. Step for step. Husband and wife.

BACK INSIDE, SAFE from the bugs and the growing darkness, Caleb settled into the couch, with one foot propped on the coffee table. He could hardly contain himself. So much had happened in the last few months, and he needed time to let this day's events sink in.

First, though, Caleb knew there were two phone calls he had to make.

“Captain Campbell?”

“Caleb, is that you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How's my favorite son-in-law doing?”

Caleb's foot was bouncing on the edge of the table. He had great respect for this man who had gone before him not only as an officer with the Albany Fire Department, but also as the father of an intelligent and strong-willed young lady.

“Good,” he said. “Doing really good, actually. But, uh, I need to ask you something, Captain.”

“I'm all ears.”

“Well, I guess for a while there I got a little offtrack as a husband.”

“We all make mistakes,”Mr. Campbell said. “You might recall my own little detour in a fire, following a pipeline into the heart of danger.”

“I'll never forget it.”

“So what're you getting at?”

“Sir, I wanna ask for your forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?”

“Yes sir. I made a promise to love and cherish your daughter, but for the last few years I've not done a good job of it. That's changing, and I want you to know that she has become more precious to me than ever.”

“Caleb Holt, I've trusted you since that day you pulled me to safety. Just recently here you've played a big role in helping my wife with her medical equipment, and I thank you for that. For what it's worth, you're forgiven. Now, take care of my daughter with that same kind of intensity.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The retired captain gave a hearty chuckle. “Just don't forget the things I taught you on your way to earning your trumpets.”

“'Course not. You taught me everything you know.”

“Whoa. Hold on now, Caleb. That's not quite accurate.”

“What? But you promised—”

“Oh, I did teach you everything
you
know. I just didn't teach you everything
I
know.”

JOHN HOLT SAT at the desk in his book-lined study, the setting sun's warmth oozing in through thick curtains. He drew a breath as he answered the phone. He wanted to believe the best, but he knew a long journey still lay ahead.

“Hello, son.”

“Dad, it happened.”

“What happened?”

“We're back together. And what's even better, Catherine has given her heart to Christ.”

The news was like a shot of adrenaline to John's body, and he stood up from his desk chair. “When?”

“This morning. We went to the clearing and I led her in prayer. It was incredible.”

John turned and motioned to his wife. “Cheryl, Catherine gave her heart to the Lord this morning.”

Cheryl brought both hands over her mouth in amazement, then embraced her husband as they shared the phone between them.

“She and I are doing this together,” Caleb went on.“Dad, I know we still have lots to learn, but at least we're walking the same path.”

“That's right.”

“When it was all done, I got down on my knees and asked her if she would marry me all over again. We're gonna renew our vows to each other, before God and man, there in that very spot where you and I talked.”

“I do hope your mother and I are invited.”

“Of course,” Caleb said. “Dad, I want you to help me write new vows.”

John felt simultaneously humbled and proud. He pulled Cheryl closer. “I could do that, son. Why, yes, I could.”

THE NEIGHBORS WERE coming out of their house. Yep, here they came, through the garage. They always came that way, and Mr. Rudolph had to wonder whatever had happened to using the blasted front door. Just didn't seem practical to build things you had no intention of using.

From his patio swing, he watched the Holts' every move.

Caleb was holding the car door for that pretty wife of his, and she slipped into the passenger seat. Caleb looked over and caught Mr. Rudolph's eye.

Mr. Rudolph didn't even flinch. No, sirree. He'd lived here longer than any of these young whippersnappers, and he wasn't going to let them run him off. With his Sunday paper in his lap, and his wife beside him in hair curlers, he had every right to sit and watch the happenings up and down this street.

And Caleb Holt was as strange as they came—shattered computers, baseball bats, smashed garbage cans. And now, behind a great big smile, that young man was waving a Bible.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph.”

“Caleb,” Mr. Rudoph replied.

He and Irma raised their right hands in synchronized greeting. No smiles. No emotion. No reason to get too chummy with the neighbors.

Caleb climbed into the car and backed out of the driveway. The Holts were on the way to church, judging by their clothes, their Bibles, and this time of morning on a Sunday. Well, that was a new twist in the unfolding drama next door.

“Irma, I don't understand that boy,”Mr. Rudolph said.

She turned toward him on the swing. “After forty-eight years, I still don't understand
you
.”

“Hummph.”

He worked hard at maintaining his stoic demeanor, and his wife's remark made him want to smile in a show of victory. But, no sir, he had his image to protect, and he went right back to wearing his long-faced scowl.

CHAPTER 39

T
here were still two surprises to come. Reflecting back, Caleb knew he should've seen these things coming, but he had let his own assumptions blind him to the truth.

Wasn't that how it usually worked?

Nearly six weeks had passed, and Catherine and Caleb's reaffirmation ceremony was only a day away.

John and Cheryl Holt arrived for an extended visit, with plans to house-sit while the younger Holts spent a second honeymoon on Saint Simons Island, along the Georgia coast. In their car, they had brought floral arrangements and a rented ivory archway that would be assembled at the clearing.

Others would provide folding chairs. The lieutenant's wife, Tina Simmons, was making the cake. All parties involved had agreed to keep the focus on the couple's commitment instead of racking up years of additional debt and stress through purchasing “all the trimmings” that some felt must accompany a wedding ceremony.

“Why do so many marriages start that way?” Caleb inquired as they helped his parents unpack the car.

“All part of the fairy tale,” Catherine said. “For us girls, it's constantly being pushed on us—the style of our dress, the bridesmaids' gowns, the photographer and videographer. The list goes on.”

“And it all costs a fortune. Seems like starting a marathon with a pair of lead boots.”

She shot him a look. “Nice, Caleb. Way to make it sound romantic.”

“What? You'd look cute in lead boots.”

Another shot.

“Would it help if they were pink?” he said.

“Son, you oughta be thankful she's got her arms full,” John said. “Or I think you'd be in trouble.”

Catherine nudged by Caleb, a twinkle in her eye, and whispered: “Pink with black soles. Otherwise, no way.”

WITH CATHERINE AND Cheryl in the house preparing lunch and catching up on recent events, father and son headed for the now familiar wooded trail. Caleb figured they could spend a few minutes fine-tuning the vows his dad had written.