Redemption (16 page)

Read Redemption Online

Authors: Karen Kingsbury

The plan began to take shape in her mind, and she felt herself relax. Tim still loved her; he had to. He wouldn’t tell her no, especially if . . .

She crossed over to her suitcase and pulled out the pregnancy test she had bought the day before. Resettling on the bed, she reread the directions; maybe she
could
go ahead and do the test now instead of waiting for morning. She needed to know, needed to move out of her denial. If she
was
pregnant, she would be into her second month, and that meant she’d be showing soon.

Kari ran over the dates in her mind as she’d done many times since Tim left. She saw no way around it. If it did turn out she was pregnant, she would have conceived sometime in August, and that meant . . .

That meant Tim had slept with her when he was already in love with another woman. The timing made her feel dirty and used. Most of the time she tried to convince herself it wasn’t possible. That she had certainly not gotten pregnant in a moment that was nothing more than physical release for Tim. At a time when he no longer loved her.

She crooked her arm so that it covered her eyes. And as she lay there, the image of her and Ryan in the prayer room returned. What a welcome distraction it had been to see him again, to hug him. To remember again the way he’d graced her teenage years.

Years of thoughts and memories drifted in, and though she knew she should, Kari couldn’t summon the energy to handcuff them. Instead, she let them gather around the table of her mind, sipping Cokes and enjoying themselves.

The years had definitely dulled the pain of that harsh November day, the day of Ryan’s injury. The day she knew for certain that she and Ryan had no future together.

Was the medicine of time always that effective? Did it so easily soften the blows of yesterday, so strongly magnify the joys? Her thoughts of Ryan were growing in number, throwing a full-blown party at the table now, but Kari didn’t mind. She wanted them to be there, wanted to walk back through the years with them, swept up in the currents of yesterday’s river, back to a barbecue the summer she was twelve years old.

The first time she had ever laid eyes on Ryan Taylor.

Warren B. Taylor had served on the administration staff at Bloomington’s St. Anne’s Hospital the year Kari’s father began an internship there. The men were both in their mid-twenties and quickly became friends.

Kari knew from her father’s stories that busy schedules caused the two to drift apart for a while. But the summer Kari turned twelve, the Baxters moved into a five-bedroom colonial in Clear Creek, just three doors down from the Taylors. And that evening, Mr. Taylor invited their family over for a barbecue.

Kari was unpacking boxes in her new bedroom when her father poked his head in and grinned. “Take a break. We’re going down the street for dinner.”

She knew better than to complain, but at twelve years old she was more interested in getting her bedroom together than stopping progress for a social event. “Can I stay? I’m almost done.”

“Mr. Taylor’s a friend of mine.” The look her father gave her conveyed his answer more clearly than any words. “I want us all there.”

Dressed in white jean cutoffs and a dusty blue T-shirt and determined to get home as soon as possible, Kari led the way as her parents and four siblings headed down the street. A half hour later they were sipping iced tea on the Taylors’ back porch when a dark-haired, shirtless boy breezed into the yard. Kari set down her glass and studied him discreetly. He was tall and lean, with a V-shaped back and a football under his arm.

“Hey, Dad, I’m home. I’ll be out front.”

Mr. Taylor was flipping burgers. He shut the lid of the grill and looked pointedly at the family of seven seated around the picnic table, then back at his son. “We have guests.”

“Oh, sorry.” The boy raised a hand in the direction of the seven of them and did a double take as he caught sight of Kari. Their eyes met for a moment, and Kari remembered the way her stomach fluttered under his gaze. “Hi.” His tone was friendly and curious, his greeting directed at her alone.

Mr. Taylor cleared his throat, and Ryan blinked, the spell broken as he looked back at his father.

“We’re eating in five minutes. Go wash up.”

“Yes, sir.” Ryan nodded, but before he darted back in the house, he cast one last look at Kari. The moment he was inside, Kari noticed something she hadn’t before.

Her heart was gone.

Ryan sat across from her during dinner that night. Since Kari’s family had moved from Bloomington, she’d be attending a new middle school. Ryan tried to fill her in on everything she should expect.

“I can’t believe you’re only in seventh.” Ryan’s short, dark bangs hung in damp clumps off to the side of his face, and he was deeply tanned.

Kari could feel her face grow hot. “I look older.”

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Twelve.” Kari set her burger down and tilted her head. “You?”

“Fourteen. High school in the fall.”

Kari nodded her chin toward the football. “You play?”

“More than I breathe.” He grinned and pushed his plate back. “Want to go out front?”

She nodded and left most of her dinner untouched. They played outside, laughing and teasing and tossing the ball until the summer sun set and lightning bugs began flashing at the base of the trees.

It was then that Kari realized she could not possibly be the only girl in Clear Creek, Indiana, dazzled by Ryan Taylor. He was two years older, about to start high school, and she was just starting middle school. But she lived three doors down, and that had to count for something.

Fall came that year, and Kari saw far less of Ryan than she’d originally planned. She was involved with Clear Creek Community Church’s youth group and taking tennis lessons at the country club; Ryan was busy playing whatever sport was in season. But come June they seemed to drift together naturally, playing kickball with the neighbor kids, fishing at Lake Monroe, counting stars and talking out in the yard on summer nights. Fall came again too quickly, and later that year Ryan’s parents bought him a shiny dark-blue Chevy truck for his sixteenth birthday. After that he was almost never home, and though she thought of him often, Kari saw him only in passing.

But all that changed Kari’s first day of high school. She was a freshman at Clear Creek High School that year and had made the cheerleading squad. Practice was under way outside the gym that afternoon when Ryan and a handful of his teammates walked past and headed for the drinking fountain. He was well over six feet tall and by far the best-looking boy at school.

Ryan caught her eye and held it as he made his way across the quad. “You’re finally here.”

She smiled in a way that wasn’t overly eager. “Yep.” No matter what she thought of Ryan Taylor, she wasn’t going to become one of his groupies, following him around school, giggling and hoping he’d notice her. Not with Ryan’s varsity football player friends standing there.

The football players had finished their drinks and headed back to the field when Kari saw one of the guys whisper something to Ryan. She turned around and began one of the warm-up stretches, reaching an arm over her head. Mandy Morken, Kari’s best friend from middle school, had made the squad too, and as the boys filed by, she elbowed Kari and leaned close. “He likes you.”

“What?” Kari switched her stretch and leaned in the other direction. “Who likes me?”

Mandy released an exaggerated huff. “Ryan Taylor’s friend. The blond guy.”

Kari could remember the way her heart sank. Mandy turned out to be right, and that weekend after the football game, Ryan introduced his friend to her. His name was Josh, and he was nice-looking in a plain sort of way. The three of them made small talk for a few minutes, and then Josh joined the rest of the team. Ryan hung back and anchored himself a few feet from Kari, a lazy grin making its way across his face.

“All the guys are talking about you.”

Kari was grateful the stadium lights had been dimmed. The last thing she wanted was for Ryan Taylor to see her blush. “Yeah?” She jutted her chin out and tossed her dark ponytail.

His expression changed, and he suddenly looked more like the boy he’d been two years earlier. “You still know how to toss a football?”

She giggled and felt her facade melt. “Maybe.”

He picked up her bag, and they walked to the team bus together. Cheerleaders rode back to school with the players after away games, and this was the first of the season. Ryan kicked at her tennis shoe as they walked. “So, you like him?”

Kari let her gaze fall and she shrugged.
I like you
, she wanted to scream at him. Instead, her voice grew soft. They were almost at the bus, and she wanted to end the conversation before they boarded. “I don’t know.”

“He’s seen you before. At my house. I told him you can’t date until you’re sixteen.”

The surprise in her voice was genuine. “How’d you know that?”

“You told me once.” He grinned at her again. “I remember those things.”

It turned out that Josh was one of Ryan’s best friends, and the dynamic that had been established that first week of school remained for the next two years. She and Mandy often went out for pizza with a group of their friends after football games, and somehow she always wound up sitting near Josh, with Ryan across the table or at the other end. At times she could have sworn he was watching her, staring at her. But when she met his eyes, he would only wink and look away.

But the flirtatious game playing that seemed to take up most of the school year fell away when summer arrived. This time they did more than play games and count stars together. They shared their hearts. Kari’s best memories were of the times they spent in a quiet, sunny cove on Lake Monroe.

“We’re so different in the summer,” Ryan told her as they fished together one Saturday afternoon.

“I know.” They were sitting side by side on a fallen tree at the lake’s edge, their bare feet hanging in the water.

“I wish we were like this all the time.” Ryan was quiet. “I can tell you anything.”

Their fathers were fishing a hundred yards away, but that didn’t matter. They were so caught up in talking with each other, confiding in each other, that Kari figured they might as well be on a deserted island.

That lazy, hot summer they shared their feelings on everything from life at home to their dreams for the future. Ryan was the first person Kari ever told about her academic insecurities.

“Brooke’s so smart.” Kari played with her reel and let out an extra foot of line. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever measure up.”

“That’s crazy.” Ryan spent the next ten minutes detailing her strong points, how kind she was and how genuine. How fun she was to be with.

There was only one topic they stayed away from, and that was their feelings for each other.

“Are you guys going out or what?” Mandy would ask when they’d talk on the phone every few days.

“No. It’s not like that.” Kari would laugh at her friend’s perplexed tone. “Don’t worry. If anything changes I’ll let you know.”

Nothing changed. But they fished at Lake Monroe almost every day and spent so much time together that her parents grew a little concerned. But they trusted Kari, and she had a strict ten-o’clock curfew. Besides, the lake was so crowded they were never really alone together—except that one afternoon when they ran for cover as a tornado siren rang through the still air.

Storm clouds had kept most of the lake-goers away that day. When the siren sounded, Ryan took her hand, and they ran to a clearing. Crossing the lake half a mile away was the whirling sliver of a waterspout.

For a moment they stared at it, mesmerized. Ryan was the first to react. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He pulled her from the spot and led her to a ditch not far from the beach. They lay there side by side, their hearts pounding as the small tornado made landfall, tore limbs off several nearby trees, and then dissipated before their eyes.

Next to Ryan that day, Kari had felt safe and protected—the same way she’d felt in the prayer room earlier this morning.

The only other times they were alone that summer were the evenings when they met in front of her house and sat on her parents’ porch swing—or at his house, where they’d sit in the bed of his pickup, staring at the stars and dreaming about their future lives.

One particular night stood out among a bouquet of memories from that summer.

She and Ryan were tanned and tired, worn-out from a day of record-breaking temperatures, and they sat side by side in the back of his truck with their legs stretched out and their heads against the cab. For two hours they shared whatever thoughts crossed their hearts.

“I’m going pro, Kari . . . you watch.” Ryan’s eyes shone with the reflection of the moon.

“I will.” She smiled at him and gazed up at the Big Dipper. “Every game.”

They were quiet a moment, staring at the sky. Suddenly a star shot across the dark canopy above. Kari uttered a soft gasp. “Did you see it?”

“Yep.” Ryan grinned at her. “A shooting star. You know what that means.”

“We get to make a wish.”

“No.” His eyes danced. “It means you have to answer one question, any question I pick.”

She clucked her tongue. “If you get to, I get to.”

“Okay, deal.” He glanced at her, and she noticed he was sitting closer than usual. “The guys were over yesterday, and one of them wanted to know whether you really liked Josh last year.” His eyes held hers. “Did you? Don’t worry; I won’t tell him.”

The streetlight shone in the distance, leaving them relegated to the shadows of the night, and Kari knew something was different. Something in Ryan’s tone. She decided to be bold. “No, I didn’t like him—not like a boyfriend, I mean.” She lowered her chin, suddenly more daring than ever before. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Shoot.”

“Which of the guys wanted to know?”

He turned to her, and their eyes locked—as they would do so whenever they met up in the years that followed. “Someone.”

Kari refused to look away. “Someone, who?”

Then in the slowest, dreamiest motion, he leaned over and kissed her tenderly, lightly on the cheek. In an instant he was on his feet, jumping from the back of the truck and heading inside. “I’ve got to run. See you.”

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