Even Now

by Karen Kingsbury

  Sorrow and peace wrapped around her grief, and Lauren held tight to Shane’s arm. If only she could have another few weeks with him, another day. Maybe they could’ve talked about this healing her mother was talking about. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head on Shane’s shoulder. Daddy . . . I can’t believe you’re gone . . . just when we found each other again. The pain was so consuming it threatened to bring her to her knees. But if her mother was right, then it wasn’t all sad. It couldn’t be.

  Daddy had been healed in a way that still seemed unbelievable. And that brought about a sort of hope that held her up, kept her from falling. Next to her, Emily had her arm around both of them. Her daughter’s tears came harder now, but something was different. Now her sobs were almost joyful. She looked up at her mother and the connection Lauren felt between the two of them was stronger than ever. And suddenly Lauren understood the joy in Emily’s tears. She smiled at her daughter and felt the mix of sorrow and triumph in her own expression. Because her father wasn’t the only one healed of a broken heart that week.

  They all were.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  For all they’d lost and all they’d found, in the end they came full circle.

  Shane couldn’t get past that fact, not through Bill Anderson’s touching funeral or in the days that followed. Now it was Saturday, and as he stood near the ticket counter at Chicago O’Hare, Emily and Lauren at his side, Lauren’s mother and his parents next to them, the sad truth was glaring. They were right back where they’d left off nearly nineteen years ago — standing on the brink of good-bye.

  Shane’s parents’ plane would be the first one out. Lauren’s was next, and his was a few hours later. They walked as far as they could toward the security line, and then his mother turned to Angela. The two hugged and held on for a long while. When they pulled apart, his mother said, “Think about it, will you, Angela? I can’t believe God would give us another chance to be neighbors.”

  “Definitely.” Lauren’s mother had dark circles under her swollen eyes, and she looked gaunt from the grief. But for all of that, her expression held a supernatural peace. “We’ll have to get things in order and sell the house.” She looked at Emily, and the two shared a sad smile. “We’re ready to move. Emily wants to finish college on the West Coast, anyway. We don’t have anything keeping us in Illinois now.”

  Emily looked at Lauren, and Shane’s heart broke for her. His daughter looked like a lost little girl, caught up in more emotions and changes than anyone should have to go through in a week’s time. Emily gave Lauren a sad smile. “You can put in a good word for me at USC, right?”

  “Of course.” So far Lauren had made no promises to any of them, other than the obvious: she would keep in regular contact with Emily. Now she looked weary, buried beneath the weight of the good-byes that lay ahead. She put her arm around Emily and pulled her close. “They’ll be lucky to have you.”

  Shane stood on Emily’s other side, and he smiled at her. “Once you move out west, we’ll see each other all the time. LA is a day’s drive from Reno, and only an hour in the air.” He stroked the back of her head, her silky dark hair. Losing Bill had been terribly hard on her. Shane could feel how much she needed her dad now that the most important man in her life was gone.

  His parents added their approval. “We’ve missed so many years with you.” His dad held out his arms, and Emily went to him. “All we can do now is catch up.”

  “Yep.” Emily put her arms around Shane’s mother too, and a sad sort of quiet fell over them. His dad looked at his watch. “We better get going.”

  Shane stepped up and gave them each a hug. Though the mistakes his parents made hadn’t severed his relationship with them, as it had Lauren and her parents, there still was a sense of loss there, beneath the surface. It was something they never talked about. But that was going to change. Shane knew it. He could feel a new depth to their relationship. One more bit of proof that healing had, indeed, come to all of them. He stepped back beside Emily and held up his hand. “See you next week sometime.”

  Another round of good-byes was spoken and the four of them watched his parents head through a door and file into the security line. When they were out of sight, an ache settled in Shane’s gut. The hardest part lay just ahead.

  Emily was still clinging to Lauren, but she was looking down, as if she couldn’t face the moment just yet. Lauren held out her hand to her mother. Angela didn’t hesitate. She came and the three generations of Anderson women formed a tight knot of tears. Shane wanted to join them, but they needed this time — just the three of them, a picture of what a mother-daughter bond should be. He could hear their voices, and he let their words soak into his soul.

  “Do you forgive me?” Angela rested her head on Lauren’s. “I’m so sorry, honey. You’ll never know — ”

  “Of course I forgive you, but it was me too.” Lauren’s voice was raspy. Her shoulders trembled as she spoke. “I only wish I’d come home sooner.”

  “I’ll always see us the way we were in the family room that night.” Emily smiled through her tears. “Papa sitting there with his big smile, and all of us together for the first time.” She made a sound that was mostly laugh. “I have parents and grandparents, and a legacy of love someone should write a book about! I even have my special papa in heaven waiting for me. What could be better than that?”

  Only one thing, of course, but Emily seemed determined not to bring that up. Last night she had found Shane and Lauren seated on the living room sofa, talking. She plopped down between them and announced, “I think you two should get married.”

  “Is that right?” Lauren looked surprised, but she kept her deeper feelings to herself.

  “Yeah, I mean — ” she looked at him — “you already asked her.”

  Shane’s eyes widened. “I did?”

  Emily poked him with her elbow. “Eighteen years ago, silly.”

  “Oh.” Shane gave Lauren a quick grin. “She has a point.”

  Emily’s eyes found Lauren next. “And you already said yes.”

  Shane had barely restrained a grin as he held up his finger. “Another point.”

  But Lauren only gave them both a wistful look. “If only it were that easy.”

  Emily hadn’t pushed the issue, but before she turned in for bed she pulled Shane aside. “I’ll never stop praying about it.”

  He winked at her. “Me neither.”

  So it was no wonder Emily was being quiet on the matter here, in the midst of good-byes. She’d done what she could. Now it was up to Lauren and God. Most of all, God.

  The group hug among the three women ended, and they pulled apart. Lauren looked over her shoulder at him and held out her hand. Shane took it, savoring the feel of her skin against his.

  Angela was asking, “Will you stay in Afghanistan?”

  “For now.” Lauren’s answer was quick, but it cut Shane deep. He tried to catch Lauren’s eye, but she kept from looking at either him or Emily. “I love what I do there.” She finally looked at Emily, her expression tender. “I can come back often.”

  Shane wanted to shout, “What about me? What about us?” But that would wait until they were alone. Instead he took a deep breath and looked at the faces around him. “I need to get going.”

  “Me too.” Lauren picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.

  “All right, then,” Angela held out her arms and hugged first Shane, then Lauren. She let herself linger with her daughter. “Be careful, Lauren. Please.”

  “I will.” Lauren rubbed her left shoulder, the one that was still healing. “Especially now.”

  It was Shane’s turn. He hugged Lauren’s mother, and then Emily. For a moment, he kept his hand along the side of his daughter’s face. He looked down into those dark eyes, marveling.

  “I’m so proud of the young woman you are.” Time would never come between them again, not the way it had before. The moment he’d seen her, held her in his arms, she’d become part o
f him. So much so that it was tearing at his composure to leave her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were growing up.”

  She covered his hand with hers and clung tight. “You didn’t know.”

  “But I do now.” He kissed her cheek and let his hand slip to her shoulder. “We’ve got a lot of good times ahead, sweetheart.”

  “Yep.” She hugged him again and their eyes held as he stepped back. She looked at Lauren next. “Mom . . . ”

  They came together in a last embrace that made Shane’s throat thick. There would be phone calls and e-mail and visits, God willing. But with Lauren in the Middle East, any good-bye could be their last.

  He watched the two of them, knowing they were too torn up to say anything more. Finally Angela put her arm around Emily, and the two of them waved. Then they turned and headed for the exit. Shane and Lauren watched them until they were gone. Then, without saying a word, Lauren fell into his arms.

  “I didn’t want the week to end.” She mumbled the words against his chest.

  “It doesn’t have to.” He kissed the top of her head.

  She said nothing, and after a few seconds he picked up his bag and the two of them walked through the door and got into the security line. They held hands as they walked to her gate. Lauren’s plane was already boarding.

  He faced her and lifted her chin with his fingers. “Did you hear what I said earlier? What I’ve been saying all week?”

  Her eyes held a sort of torment he hadn’t seen before, as if the battle inside her was far more frightening than the one she was going back to write about. She took a step closer, so their legs were touching. “Yes.” The word sounded strained. “Yes. I heard.”

  “So then . . . ” He kept his tone easy, his words slow. Even if it killed him to tell her good-bye after finding her again, there would be no last-minute sales pitch to convince her to stay with him. His heart hurt and he wanted to weep, but now wasn’t the time. Instead, he dug deep down and found a trace of humor. “Does this mean you’re breaking our engagement?”

  A single laugh burst from her throat, and she let her forehead fall against his chest. “Shane.” She lifted her eyes to his again. “Be serious.”

  He hesitated. “Why, Lauren?” He felt the smile fade from his face. With his eyes holding hers, he traced her jaw, her neck. “Would that convince you to stay with me?”

  She brought her hands up along the sides of his face, and with fresh tears brimming in her eyes, she kissed him. It was a kiss filled with finality, and when she drew back she was breathless, her emotions giving way. “I’ll think about it, Shane.” She shook her head. “I just don’t see how it can work.”

  He understood. As he searched her eyes, he prayed the way he’d been praying since their first conversation that week. Please God . . . show us how to make this come together. And in that instant he realized something. It wasn’t only their politics that were different. It was their faith. Without that in common, Lauren might be right. God we need You . . . she needs You.

  “What are you thinking?” Her voice was low, her eyes locked on his.

  He worked his fingers through her hair and kissed her once more. “I’m trying not to.”

  “Attention passengers — ” a tinny voice came over the loud speaker system — “this is the final boarding call for Flight 92 to Los Angeles. All ticketed passengers please proceed directly to Gate C20 for immediate boarding.”

  He took a step back and pain cut through him, as though his heart were being ripped in half. He caught his breath, forced himself to smile, to speak. “You better go.”

  She nodded, too choked up to talk. She mouthed the words, “Bye, Shane.” And then, with a last look at him, she turned and headed for the Jetway.

  There were no desperate statements, no promises that she’d call or write or stay in touch. She just turned . . . and was gone. Swallowing hard, he stared at the terminal around him without seeing anything. Hoards of people pushed past, but he barely noticed. He just stood there, unable to take a step away from the gate, to be the one to put more space between them.

  Finally, his feet took over. He drifted toward the window and watched the plane back away, shift gears, and begin positioning on the runway. He could still see her face, her blonde hair and blue eyes. Could she see him too? Did she feel what he felt? That even though she was leaving, their hearts were still connected? Would always be connected?

  Father God . . . help.

  Things had worked out for everyone that week. Emily had her parents, and Bill had a place in heaven. His parents and Lauren’s had found friendship and healing, and none of them would ever be the same again because of it. Yes, things had worked out for everyone.

  Everyone except Lauren and him.

  He kept his eyes on the aircraft, watching the same window, the one where he was sure he could see her, no matter now far away the plane was. Finally the craft circled into place, and after a brief pause, barreled down the runway, lifting up through a hole in the sky.

  Taking Lauren with it.

  Only then, did Shane drop to the nearest chair, cover his face with his hands and let the tears come.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Lauren was one of the first to exit the plane. She collected her things and headed out onto the concourse, not really aware of anything around her. Her mind was consumed with Shane, with their time together, with all she’d turned her back on. How had she let things go so terribly wrong?

  For the past six hours she’d done nothing but relive every wonderful moment with him, weighing it against the reality of the life she had in Afghanistan. From Chicago to New York where she had to change planes, she’d asked herself the same question over and over again: it couldn’t work, could it?

  No. How could it? How could she believe the way she believed or cover the war the way she had always covered it, and spend her nonworking hours sharing a life with a navy flight instructor at the Top Gun facility. And what about their beliefs? He spoke about God at every turn, and she . . . well, she was still trying to forgive Him.

  She and Shane together? The idea was ludicrous. But by the time she reached New York she could no longer deny one very obvious truth. Letting Shane go now was even more so.

  When the plane taxied to the gate, she hurried off and talked with the woman at the counter. Yes, the woman told her. She could do this, and yes, they could see that her bags followed her. But she had just thirty minutes if she wanted to make the flight.

  Lauren paid the price, then pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the Los Angeles office of Time magazine. When she had her editor on the line she had to stifle a bout of giggles. “Listen, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Whatever you want, Gibbs.” She’d worked with this editor for three years. “We just hope you’re ready to get back to work. The magazine needs you.”

  “I’m ready.” She swallowed, not quite believing that she was doing this. “But I need time away from Afghanistan. I want a temporary new assignment, if that’s all right.”

  “Sure.” Her editor didn’t hesitate. “You’ve earned that much.” He hesitated. “Where do you want to go?”

  She closed her eyes and lifted her face. “Reno, Nevada.”

  “Reno?” A pause. “Are you crazy?”

  She smiled. “Yes.” Another giggle. “You know what? It’s wonderful!”

  With her editor’s promise to make the arrangements, Lauren ran from one concourse to the next, barely making her flight. Now, if the schedules had held up, her plane would land fifteen minutes before his.

  Her flight was quick, and before she knew it, she was walking out the door, into the Reno Airport. With each step, she picked up her pace, and with five minutes to spare she found a seat at the gate, his gate. One with a direct view of the Jetway. When she was sure she had enough time, she dug through her bag until she found it. The small cardboard box that was never more than a few yards from her.

  The whole week, every time she and Shane were to
gether, she’d wanted to pull it from her bag and share it with him. Because the moment she did so, he’d know. She’d never forgotten, not through the years of college, no matter where her reporting took her. But the moment had never seemed right.

  Now she looked at the faded, creased photographs and — careful not to damage the pictures in anyway, she took out the ring. It still stirred emotions in her, memories of a love that nothing in all her life had equaled. With deliberate care, she slipped the ring on her baby finger, closed the small box, and placed the box back into her bag. No, she couldn’t have brought out these things earlier. This way she’d had time to think it through. It was true, they wouldn’t have everything in common. But they shared what mattered most for now, and in time they would figure out if the rest would work or not.

  Emily’s face danced in her mind, and tears stung Lauren’s eyes. They had a daughter — their precious baby girl, all grown up and longing to be loved — and they shared a past and a romance that knew nothing of struggles with faith or political differences. She was pretty sure she believed in God, after all. And if He was real, well then, she and God had some mountains to scale. But mountains were meant to be climbed, right? And the politics thing, well, Shane had been right. If others could pull off a bipartisan marriage, maybe they could do the same thing.

  There was a rustling of activity behind the gate counter, and an aircraft pulled into view. Lauren’s heart beat so hard she thought it might burst through her chest. But at least it wasn’t broken anymore.

  She stood, her bag high on her shoulder, and watched the people file through the door. A mother with two babies; a group of businessmen; two couples, tanned and laughing, moving slowly and talking with their hands . . .

  And then he was there. At the doorway.