“Something I’ve learned about marriage.” She gave him a knowing look, nothing too serious, but a look only a mother could give.
“What’s that?”
“Once is enough.”
He nodded slowly. “I agree.”
“Just saying.” She smiled at him and returned to her canning. And that was that. Her way of telling him that whatever had brought him home, he needed to be sure before he stepped up to the altar and said, “I do.”
When they were done canning, Brad found his father in the TV room filling out sweepstakes forms. Brad sat opposite him, on the worn brown corduroy footstool they’d had for years. “Hey, Dad.”
“Son.”
Brad laced his fingers together. “I found her.”
His dad looked up. “I figured you would.”
“We didn’t get into it. Not completely.” He furrowed his brow, trying to imagine how the next day would play out. “I’m meeting her at Holden Beach tomorrow afternoon.”
“Finishing the chapter?” There it was. The only bit of concern his father had shown since he brought Emma up on the last visit. The question mark in his voice.
“Yes.” With his dad, he felt no reason to be falsely certain. Not when his heart was still wavering over having spent an evening with Emma. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “I think so, anyway.”
“You know what they say.” His father lowered his pencil, the sweepstakes forgotten for the moment.
“What’s that?”
“If you can’t finish the chapter, then there must be more to the story.”
More to the story. The thought terrified Brad. He wanted to have this time with Emma, tell her good-bye, and hurry home to his wedding. But what if that wasn’t how the next few days played out? If he found feelings again for Emma, could he really return home to marry Laura? He felt sick at the idea, but he had to face the possibility.
He patted his father’s hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He stood and smiled, more tired than he’d been in a long time. “I’m turning in.”
“I’ll be praying for you, Son.” His dad meant the words.
Brad leaned down and hugged him. “Thanks.”
He thought about calling Laura again before he went to sleep, but his mind was whirling with too many conflicting images. Laura’s face, the way she beamed when she talked about her wedding dress, and the grief that had marked her expression when he told her the truth in Central Park earlier this week. Emma, as she’d walked out to her car from her classroom earlier today, and the way she’d kept her sunglasses on through dinner this evening.
Could he spend the weekend with Emma, tell her he was sorry, and remember again the most painful time in his life without finding feelings for her?
Please, God … give me the strength.Help me know if I should be here.
Remember to leave the gift at the altar …
The answer was similar to what he’d heard earlier. Before he fell asleep, he reached for his Bible and found the verse about the gift. It was from Matthew 5:23 – 24, and reading it brought chills to his arms. He let the words wash over him like a soothing balm to his soul.
Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift.
That’s what this was about … it was why God had urged him to make this trip and why he had to see the visit with Emma through to completion. He was about to stand at an altar with the precious gift of Laura James. But he couldn’t make a commitment to her while Emma had something against him. And she did — he could tell by the look in her eyes. This trip would be about reconciling with Emma — the way he should’ve done years ago. Only then could he return to New York City, to the gift that awaited him there.
To his place at the altar.
L
AURA SAT IN HER BEDROOM AND
stared out the window at the expanse of grass that made up her front yard. Dusk was quietly giving way to night, and Laura planned to do little more than sit here and pray.
Her friends had been great. Offers had come in from three of them that night. Nelly invited her to dinner, and Megan called to see if Laura wanted to hang out, watch TV or play cards. Bella Joy knew a fellow dancer who had just joined the
Wicked
cast at the Gershwin Theater in Times Square. She had two tickets for the Saturday eight o’clock show, and she asked Laura to go.
“We can spend the day in the city, shop Fifth Avenue, and eat lunch at Tavern on the Green. We can even stop in at the Stardust Diner after the show. I know a guy who sings there,” Bella Joy told her. “It’ll be a blast.”
Laura thanked her, but declined. She didn’t want dinner or conversation, and she couldn’t concentrate on a Broadway play this weekend. Not when she had no idea whether Brad was staying up late on a beach somewhere talking to Emma or whether he’d even found her yet. He’d left a message, but Laura hadn’t called him. She hated the thought of sounding jealous, of asking the wrong questions. It was easier not to call.
Her parents were downstairs, and they’d been great about the whole thing. Her father, especially. Her mother had a harder time understanding why Brad needed to take care of his past now — right before the wedding. But both of them had given her the grace of having time to herself.
She stood and slid her bedroom window open. All her life everything had gone the way it was supposed to. Other than the usual petty differences between friends, high school had flown by with the sort of charmed memories she would smile back on as long as she lived. She’d dated, of course. There were prom dates and the occasional nights out to the movies. But she hadn’t fallen in love. The guys in her class were friends, nothing more. College had been the same way.
“What if I never find the right guy,” she’d asked her mother the summer after she graduated.
“You will, honey.” Her mom’s confidence had been reassuring. “God has someone out there for you. He wants you to be ready. Be strong in your faith and yourself. That way you’ll recognize him when God brings him along.”
Her mother’s advice turned out to be right on. Laura stayed close to God, and when she spotted Brad at her dad’s company picnic, she had the strangest feeling she’d seen him somewhere before. Like they’d known each other for years. Even so, she wouldn’t have made the first move. She didn’t chase guys — that had never been her style.
But when he talked to her that day, she had a feeling, a knowing. Their quick dialogue turned into a full-blown conversation — since neither of them had anything planned for the day, they spent the next two hours walking around the party together and pulling off to themselves as if they were the only people there. By the end of the day, Laura was starry-eyed and giddy — even if she didn’t show that to Brad.
A month later, after she and Brad shared conversations like that one every day, she told her parents about her feelings. “I think Brad’s the guy.”
They couldn’t have been more thrilled. Laura’s dad had never had a young ad executive as promising as Brad Cutler. He shared her faith and sense of humor, and in no time he was part of the family. “God must’ve known about the two of you from the beginning of time,” her mom would tell her.
Until a week ago Laura agreed, heart and soul.
Brad seemed to share her faith. He cared about getting his MBA and climbing the ladder at her father’s firm, and he made her laugh every time they were together. Sure they talked about their pasts. Laura’s was simple and straightforward. Her heart had never been tangled up with love and loss, so Brad was her first everything.
As for Brad, he admitted his relationship with Emma. “We were kids. We grew up together,” he told her. “Over time we grew apart.”
Laura had studied him, watched the look in his eyes. Growing up with someone was a powerful draw. “Why didn’t it work?” She asked the question in different ways on a handful of occasions when the topic of his past came up.
“We were different,” he told her. “We wound up with nothing in common.”
The answer always felt honest and truthful, and it always satisfied Laura’s curiosity. Emma Landon was a part of his past. End of story. By the time Christmas rolled around that year, Laura and Brad were a serious item. On New Year’s Eve, he told her something she would never forget.
“It’s not just the start of a new year,” he told her as they watched the snow fall outside her parents’ front porch. “It’s the start of a new life. Because I never want to live a day without you, Laura. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”
His words rang in her mind again now, but in light of the truth they seemed false, phony. She lifted her face to the breeze drifting through her screened window. He’d never loved anyone like her? That wasn’t true. In fact, he’d loved Emma with a sort of physical love Laura and Brad had never shared. Even if they’d grown apart, the truth was Brad had never loved anyone like he’d loved Emma Landon.
Laura had to admit that now.
She looked at the calendar on her wall. The end of May. In all her wildest dreams and imaginations about the weeks leading up to her wedding, she could never have imagined that she’d be in this situation now. No matter that they hadn’t called off the ceremony, their wedding was most likely not going to happen. Brad hadn’t come out and said he had doubts, but what else could explain the timing?
She glanced at her cell phone on the bed and saw a text message from Amy. She clicked her phone on and read what it said.
Laura … check out Psalm 119:81 … I read it today and thought about you.
Her phone had an electronic application of the Bible, so she quickly clicked to that verse.
I am worn out waiting for your rescue, but I have put my hope in your word.
Laura read it again and tried to believe that somehow God’s Word would rescue her. The promise soothed her hurting soul, even if she couldn’t imagine how it might apply to her. Was it really possible that God’s Word would be her rock? She hoped so, because she wouldn’t get through this otherwise. But right now His promises seemed written for someone else. She saved the verse to her bookmarked page, then she moved back to the text message and tapped out an answer to Amy.
I read it. Thanks, friend.
That’s all. She didn’t want a long conversation, not with Amy or anyone else.
I want Brad, the way things used to be, God … how can any of this be happening?
Remember, Daughter … the verses in Luke?
Laura blinked the soft response away from her heart. She would delve into her Bible study notes later — especially the part about forgiving. The heartache she was feeling now had her a long way from forgiveness. She wasn’t even sure Brad was coming home after all. God’s divine rescue, that’s what she needed. Nothing short of a miracle.
She was about to lay down, crawl under the sheets and cry the way she’d done on the nights leading up to this weekend. But before she could make a move, there was a knock at her door. “Come in.”
Her mother entered the room slowly, tentatively. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She smiled. Even now, when they knew the truth, Laura didn’t want to look or feel like the victim. That’s why no one but God had seen her cry these last few nights.
“Can we talk for a few minutes?”
“Sure.” Laura patted the spot on her bed next to her. “Come sit.”
Her mom looked more tired than usual. Gone was the excited peppiness that had marked her countenance since Laura and Brad had announced their engagement. “You’ve been up here most of the night.”
“Thinking.” Laura pulled one leg up onto the bed and angled herself so she could see her mom. “Not sure what happens next.”
“I can imagine.” Her mother covered Laura’s hand with her own. “I keep praying. That’s all I can do.”
Laura thought for a while. “Bella Joy invited me to see
Wicked
tomorrow in the city.”
“You should go.” Her mom’s tone was laced with sympathy.
“Really?” She pictured a day in the city, the brilliance of the show, and the fun she always had when she hung out with Bella Joy.
“Sitting here can’t be helping much.” Her mom tilted her face, her eyes hopeful. “A diversion might give you some perspective. Clear your head so you can get through the weekend.”
Laura was quiet, considering the possibility. She had to admit, the idea sounded appealing. She hated being the victim, the jilted bride. “Maybe you’re right.” She sat straighter. A person could only stay sad for so long. This was Brad’s doing, not hers. If his actions were going to result in a cancelled wedding, in a called-off marriage, then at least she could go to Times Square with Bella Joy and have fun for a night.
“I was thinking.” Her mom kept her hand over Laura’s in a way that seemed to give them both strength. “I know you’re worried about the wedding, but … well, Brad’s not saying he’s changed his mind. He wants to have things in order first.”
“I understand.” Laura waffled back and forth between hoping nothing more than for Brad to come home and for the wedding to go on as planned, and being angry at him for waiting until now to handle this. Tonight she leaned more toward anger. “I keep picturing him spending this weekend with her.” She met her mother’s gaze straight on. “Why a whole weekend? Wouldn’t it be enough to find her and tell her he was sorry?”
Her mom didn’t look away. “The more I think about what’s happening, what Brad’s doing, the less I feel it’s about this old girlfriend of his.”
“What then?”
Her mom tilted her head, her eyes softer than before. “The baby.” She breathed in deeply and folded her arms. “I’ve done some research online, about Post Abortion Syndrome. Brad and this woman made a choice that ended the life of a child.” Her mother’s eyes welled up. “Have you thought about that? About what Brad might be feeling?”
“Some.” Laura felt her heart sink. “Maybe not to that extent.”
“When you have a minute, look it up this weekend. Read about what people go through after having an abortion.” Her mom looked intent. “Some people who’ve taken part in an abortion have trouble committing to another person until they find healing. Even if years or decades go by.” She bit her lip. “I really think, Laura … Brad needs to do this. He should’ve done it sooner, but he would’ve been wrong to marry you without going back. The situation is that serious.”