“We were going to talk about that last night. We’d decided to tell each other everything about the years that we were apart, and last night seemed the perfect opportunity to do that. Chad said it was important for me to know about what happened to him so I could understand how he felt about relationships now.”
“I think he’s right about that. He’s been through a lot and has shown himself to be strong through the storm. And Jess, it truly touched my heart how much he loves his daughter, regardless of her paternity. I’ve always thought a lot of Chad, but that proves that my judgment of his character was correct. He’s a good man.”
“I know.” She sipped the coffee and again found it a little easier to talk after feeling the warm, sweet taste on her tongue. “And he kept telling me how he wanted me to understand how much it meant to him that he could trust me.”
“And after he told you about everything he’d been through and how he’d been deceived,” her father deduced, “you decided you couldn’t tell him about Nathan.”
She blinked several times, trying to keep the tears at bay. She knew how much it hurt him to see her cry. He’d never been able to stand seeing her cry. “How could I tell him that I’d lied to him about something as important as his child, after he’d been lied to so much already? And after he’d just admitted that I’m the only woman he could ever trust with his heart.”
“But you both said you would tell each other about the past last night. Wasn’t he expecting you to tell him about your son?”
“Yes, but I was so upset about what Kate put him through, and about the way that he learned that Lainey wasn’t his, that I told him my past could wait. I said we’d been through enough emotional turmoil for one night, and I didn’t want any more sadness added to our time together.”
“Which was true. You two obviously went through a lot together last night just in facing Chad’s ordeal.”
“Yes, but I’m not certain that’s why I waited.” She’d been battling the real fact about why she hadn’t talked to him throughout the night, and she knew that she wouldn’t lie to her father about it. “It wasn’t because we’d discussed so much of his pain. There wasn’t any reason for me to wait. I should have told him. I was stalling because I didn’t want to tell him the truth.”
He sipped his coffee, placed the mug back on the table. “Honey, you do want to tell him the truth. That’s why you’re hurting so badly now. You want to tell him more than anything. What you don’t want to do is hurt him.”
She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and they pushed forward and dripped onto the table by her cup. Jessica reached for the mug, wrapped her hands around it and completely covered the smiling face. Then she forced herself to take another sip. The liquid was still sweet but was growing cold, and she put the cup back on the table.
His mouth flattened, and she could tell he was working hard to control his own emotions. He was being strong, the way fathers knew they were supposed to be strong, even though Jess suspected that his heart was aching as much for her situation as her heart ached for Chad’s. He released a deep breath and stood, moved to the kitchen counter and picked up his worn Bible. “You know, when your mother and I were married, the preacher at our wedding read to us from First Corinthians 13,” he said, “the chapter of love.”
Jessica watched as he thumbed through the pages and found the passage.
“When you listen to these verses, in theory, it all sounds pretty easy. But in practice, some of them can be rather tough.” His finger guided down the page until he found the part he was looking for. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Jessica immediately knew the portion of the passage that he was referring to—the part that was tough, particularly for her now. “Love rejoices with the truth.” She rubbed her thumbs over the wide smile on her cup and held them at the edges so that the grin became a frown. And the face looked more…like she felt. “I should have told him the truth last night. Putting it off is only going to make it harder, only going to make it worse.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t easy at that moment, after learning how deceived he’d been in the past. But Chad loves you, and you love him.” His eyes moved back to the Bible and he repeated, “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
“But he did trust, and I’ve betrayed that trust.”
“Love always perseveres,” her father said softly. “It keeps no record of wrongs.”
“But he doesn’t even know about what I did. There isn’t a record because I’ve never told him.” She was expressing every concern that had haunted her through the night, yet her father wasn’t swayed, ever determined to help her through a rough patch.
“You know, Nathan asked me to sing one of the songs from his Bible class with him last night before he went to bed. The one about the wise man building his house upon the rock.”
Jessica managed a smile. “He loves that song, especially when the foolish man’s house goes splat.”
Her father grinned. “I noticed. He screamed that part.”
“He likes to do that,” she said, visualizing Nathan slapping his hands together and yelling through the chorus.
“Well, if you think about that song, it really applies to most every aspect of life, don’t you think?” He cleared his throat. “One house was built on the rock, and the other was built on the sand. When the storm came, the house on the rock stood firm. The house on the sand fell flat.”
Jessica nodded, hearing Nathan’s sweet voice singing the familiar song.
“But, honey, the important part is that both houses had to endure the storm.” He closed his Bible, looked at her thoughtfully. “Nothing about life is easy, and love definitely isn’t. Everybody, every love has to weather the storms. Just because that wise man built his house on the rock didn’t mean he wouldn’t go through tough times. The storm still came.”
“But his house was built on a rock. It was on a firm foundation. Right now, my foundation—the foundation of my love with Chad—is on shaky ground. We’re on the sand, and I’m afraid we’re going to fall.”
“Love perseveres,” her father repeated. “You have to believe that. It isn’t too late to strengthen that foundation. I know it won’t be easy, but anything worth having is worth a bit of effort. Your love for Chad and the chance for you, Chad, Lainey and Nathan to be a real family is worth working on that foundation.”
“It’s worth telling him the truth,” she whispered.
“Yes.” He took his mug, then picked up hers and took them to the sink. “You’ve already made up your mind to tell him, though, haven’t you?”
“I made up my mind about that the day Nathan was born,” she admitted. “I wanted Chad to know his son, and I wanted Nathan to know his daddy. But then he fell in love with someone else, married someone else. And I didn’t know when the right time would be to tell him the truth. I knew I still wanted to tell him, but I just didn’t know when.”
“How did you plan to figure that out?” he asked, rinsing the mugs and putting them in the dishwasher.
“I guess I thought God would help me to know. I prayed for Him to let me know. But what if I missed the time that I was supposed to tell him?” She turned the bowl of oranges as she spoke.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I nearly told Chad last night. Everything was right for me to tell him. He’d told me the truth about his past, even though it hurt him terribly to tell me, and then he’d expected me to tell him about mine. But I didn’t. I put it off.” She continued to turn the bowl, the orange slices shifting slightly as it moved. A short while ago, the pieces had all been together, one part of a whole. Complete. Now they were separate and couldn’t fit back together again. What if once Chad’s t
rust in her was broken it couldn’t be restored?
“You can tell him today,” he said. “It may have been God’s plan for you to tell him today, with Nathan by your side.”
Jessica wasn’t so sure. She’d felt certain she was supposed to talk to Chad last night, and she’d ignored the opportunity because she’d been afraid. Yes, she would see Chad in a few hours and would have no choice but to tell him, since he was bound to see the resemblance between himself and his son. But still…that didn’t seem like the right thing to do. What would he say when he realized the truth? And wouldn’t that be cruel, putting him in a situation where he couldn’t tell her how he really felt about her keeping the truth from him because he wouldn’t want to say anything in front of Nathan?
He wouldn’t want to hurt his son.
“I don’t think that was God’s plan,” she said. “I think that was my plan, to try to make it easier on me.”
Her father’s cell phone rang, and he withdrew it from his pocket and glanced at the front. “It’s your mom.” He pushed Talk. “Hi, honey. You and Nathan having a good—”
Jessica knew her dad well enough to notice the instant that his tone changed. Moreover, she caught the way his hand tightened on the phone and how his brows drew together and his body tensed.
Something was wrong.
Her father was a pillar, the one who held it all together in the worst of times. He was the sibling who was there for his brothers and sister when their mother passed on, the resilient one who held it all together throughout the funeral planning and then the emotional service…only to fall apart later at home. Jessica had heard him back then, his heart-wrenching sobs echoing from her parents’ bedroom. But before then, when he’d been meeting with the funeral home, writing the obituary for the paper and notifying family and friends, he’d been a rock—a rock to the rest of the world, that is. Jessica had known the entire time that he was working hard to hold it together.
And back then, when he was fighting the emotional torture of losing some he loved, he looked…exactly like he looked right now.
“Mom,” Jessica whispered. He’d looked at the phone and said it was her mother. Then he’d started talking and stopped, and now he had that look. That terrifying look. “What happened to Mom?”
Her father was still listening to the person on the other end of the line, a person who Jess suspected was not her mother. Who had her mom’s phone? And why?
The muffled echoes of the person’s words weren’t clear enough for Jessica to make out what the man was saying. But she was sure it was a man. The voice was deep and commanding, evidently informing—or maybe even instructing—her father about something. Something to do with her mother.
“No, I’m glad you got the phone and called. Thank you. And we’ll leave right now.”
Then it hit her. “Nathan.” Nathan had been so excited about going to buy that bread and those pencils and notebooks. And her mother had been so nice to offer to take him since Jessica had such a rough night. But what if—what if they’d been in an accident? “Dad? Tell me what happened.”
Her father closed his eyes and nodded to the voice on the other end of the line, his mouth clamped shut and his knuckles stark white as he clutched the phone. Finally, he disconnected, moved to the door and grabbed his keys from the wooden hook on the wall. “Come on, Jess. We’ve got to go to the hospital. They were in an accident, and they’re both banged up. The guy who called saw everything and called 911.”
She stood so fast her chair fell, but she didn’t bother picking it up. At once she was by his side and hurrying out the door. “What happened?” she asked, fear radiating through her at the possibilities. “And what do you mean by banged up? What exactly happened?”
“They were in the turn lane, waiting to turn into the shopping center, when a guy ran a red light.”
“He hit them?” Jessica jumped in the car, slammed her seat belt into place.
“Apparently, from what the guy on the phone said, he hit another car, and that car lost control and hit your mother and Nathan.” He quickly backed out of the driveway, pressed the button for the flashers and started down the street. “Jess, he said your mother’s going to be okay, that she has some cuts and bruises but that she was conscious at the scene. She gave this guy her phone and told him to call us, tell us to come to the hospital. She’s…she’s with Nathan.” He swallowed thickly, his jaw tensing as he pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
“What about Nathan?” Let him be okay. Please, God, let him say that Nathan is okay.
“Jess, he’s unconscious,” he said, and a thick tear slid down his cheek with the words. “Evidently the back of the car spun around and hit a light post. Even with his seat belt on, he was jostled hard. Or that’s what the guy on the phone said. We’ll know more when we get to the hospital.”
The back of the car spun around and hit a light post. The back of the car. Where Nathan, her precious little boy, was sitting.
Her father’s phone rang again, and he handed it to Jessica. She didn’t recognize the number but assumed it was someone from the hospital. God, let him be okay. Please, please, God, let him be okay.
“Hello.”
“I was trying to reach Bryant,” the voice on the other end said. “Is this—is this Jessica?”
She recognized Brother Henry’s voice. “Yes, it’s me,” she said, barely aware that she was speaking, her senses were so consumed with fear for her son.
“Mary just called. She was coming home from shopping and thought she saw your mother’s car—” he said, hesitating.
“They were in an accident,” Jessica confirmed. “We’re on our way to the hospital.” Then she added, “Brother Henry, please pray for Nathan. He’s—the back of the car was hit hard and he’s unconscious. And I’m—I’m so scared. Please pray.”
“I will,” he promised. “And I’ll call the phone tree. We’ll have the entire church praying, and I’ll meet you at the hospital. I’m leaving now.” He disconnected and so did Jessica.
“He’s calling the church to pray for him.” A piercing sob pushed from her throat, and she couldn’t stop the tears. “I can’t lose him, Daddy. He’s my world.”
Her father pressed the pedal harder, and the car jolted through the familiar neighborhoods that now became a blur of houses, trees and sidewalks. Jess couldn’t make them out at all through her tears. Her head started throbbing, pulsing against her eyes, and her stomach pitched, threatening to lose the only thing it held, that one cup of coffee.
“Oh, God, he’s so precious. And he’s so happy.” Jess could see Nathan, telling her all about the notebook and pencils he was going to get and squealing about how much fun he was going to have at the park.
The park!
Chad.
Jessica’s gasp was so loud that her father took his eyes off the road to see what was wrong.
“Jess! What?”
“He doesn’t know. Chad doesn’t know about Nathan and now…now Nathan’s hurt…he’s unconscious, and I don’t know what’s wrong. And Chad doesn’t know. Oh, Daddy, what am I going to do?”
More thick tears slid down her father’s cheeks. “Call him, Jess. You have to get him to that hospital. He needs to be there. Nathan is hurt. His son is hurt, and he should know. He should be there.”
She pulled her phone out of her pocket while her father turned on the street leading to Claremont Hospital. The building ahead looked ominous and cold, not at all the type of place for a five-year-old boy. Not at all the type of place where Nathan should be. A huge red sign reading Emergency centered the entrance on their left, where her father steered the car. Her son was in that hospital, in that emergency room, and he was unconscious. Her son…and Chad’s.
God, be with Nathan, she prayed. And then, pressing Send on the phone, she prayed, God be with Chad, and please, dear God, be with me.
Chad hadn’t been with the guys since October, when their fall baseball season had ended. The men’s team from Claremont was c
omposed primarily of guys in their mid-twenties to early thirties. Young enough to remember how to play the game but old enough to know they weren’t invincible. Case in point, Chad had thrown out his shoulder last spring, and he’d merely been warming up. He’d had to take a good deal of heat from them over that…until Mitch Gillespie broke his foot attempting to slide into second base. Then all the attention, jokes and “old man” terminology turned to Mitch. Guys would be guys.
The day was absolutely gorgeous, with enough of a breeze to keep them cool in spite of their exertion and enough warm sunshine to remind them that spring—and baseball games—were just around the corner. Which meant they needed this practice.
Practice, particularly the first practice of the season, for the team was extremely-low key. Mainly, they were getting the feel of the game again, working the muscles that hadn’t been used nearly enough in the winter and attempting to burn off the extra pound or two that they’d accumulated during those Thanksgiving and Christmas meals. During a real game, they got down to business and concentrated on the main event. At this practice, however, they were more focused on having fun and catching up.
Chad listened as the ones who had kids talked about what their little guys and girls were currently doing, and he naturally joined in with Lainey’s latest adventure of losing his phone. Then they all chatted about their wives or girlfriends, as the case may be. Chad didn’t offer anything toward that conversation, thinking he’d merely wait and bring Jessica to meet the group when the time was right. But Claremont was too small a town for his secret to go unnoticed.
“Hey, Chad, Jana said she was sure she saw you last night when we were taking in the light display at Hydrangea,” Mitch said, grabbing his glove from the bench and then taking a big sip of Gatorade before returning to the field. “I couldn’t tell, but whoever it was in that gazebo had a really pretty brunette by his side and looked like he was having a fairly intense conversation with her.”
Adam Finley, the third baseman and leadoff batter, heard the comment and cocked his head toward Chad. “That so? You found something serious, Martin?”
Her Valentine Family Page 13
