“You always managed to get it in your hair when you were little,” Daddy said. “Even in your eyelashes!”
“I do remember the horrible task of trying to comb it out once we got home.”
“What did your momma always say?”
“‘But wasn’t it worth it?’”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, it was.”
We stopped and Dad pointed. In front of us was one of three stages at the fair. A local country band was playing it up with their fiddles and tambourines. “Remember this?”
“My first show.”
“Yep. Right there on that stage. I stood back and watched you sing your little heart out. No fear, I tell you. None. It was like nobody was watching, except you just kind of soaked up all that applause and it fired you up for another round. They loved you here. You got three standing ovations.”
I leaned against him. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“I guess so.” A moment passed. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Before I could stop him, he was hobbling through the crowd, practically parting it with the cane they’d given him since his balance had gotten worse. Probably saw one of his fishing buddies.
I stood there waiting for him, listening to the band, my emotions quavering between the joy of the day and the heartache that would soon come. The band finished up and Dad still hadn’t returned. I started getting worried. Had he fallen? Gotten lost?
Before I could worry much longer, I heard it. And I knew immediately it was no coincidence. “Someone to Watch Over Me” warbled through the old sound system that still hung by chicken coop wire from the small overhang I stood under.
What I didn’t expect, however, was for Essie Mae to walk out on stage, wearing a brightly hued floral dress that cinched at the waist and spun lightly against her legs as she walked. She looked stunning. The crowd cheered her on. Who didn’t love an old woman singing with that much charisma?
Suddenly Dad was by my side. He put his arm around me.
“You did this, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
I smiled. The music had never stopped for Daddy. I could see that. His eyes twinkled with light as if he were somewhere back in time with Momma.
His big frame, hunching over more and more, still towered over me. And when he asked, “Sing it for me?” it felt like an honor.
“Of course I’ll sing it for you,” I said. We both smiled through our tears, understanding this would probably be the last time he’d hear me sing it.
My legs carried me briskly toward the stage. Essie Mae met me at the edge, handing me the microphone. I gripped it tightly, like Momma had shown me, and held it a half inch from my mouth. The crowd enjoyed the exchange between Essie Mae and me, but they couldn’t quite understand the emotion behind it. Still, I knew they felt it, felt something special was going on.
I found Dad in the crowd. He was waving and looked like he might just break into a slow dance with someone nearby if his body could’ve handled it. I focused on him, sang it to him, gave him everything I had, enough to take him on to eternity. It felt good. It filled me deep in my soul, a place I’d barely acknowledged for years . . . the place where Momma’s voice was, whispering her love to me.
I closed my eyes for a moment, took it in, literally sang my heart out. I didn’t want this song to end, but I knew I had to find someplace deep within me to keep the music going. I knew it was what connected all of us, even across the chasm of death.
I found Dad again, and he locked eyes with me. I smiled, and he smiled too, but he kept nudging my gaze to my right, like there might be something over there I’d be interested in.
Momma had always taught me that there’d be lots of distractions on stage, and to keep my focus, even if I had to close my eyes. I wanted to, but Daddy seemed so urgent, as if the earth might collapse if I didn’t look over there.
I couldn’t imagine what would be so important, but I looked anyway.
And there he was.
62
LUKE
I WAS MORE NERVOUS than the first day I had to walk into that room with the SEC prosecutors. Maybe it was like those guys who propose to their girlfriends at a football stadium on the big screen. That takes guts. What takes more guts is knowing the person has hostile feelings toward you.
I kind of didn’t want to interrupt the moment. I hadn’t seen Faith sing like that before. She was a natural. She had the crowd in the palm of her hand. But this was my moment. My last chance.
So when she looked at me, like Calvin said she would, my eyes absorbed every minute detail of her face. Her frozen stare contrasted the small smile that turned into a small grin. I walked toward her and my heart was pounding like it thought it was drumming for the song. I extended my hand. It was shaking so badly I thought I might not be able to hold it out for very long.
To my great relief, she took it, and when she did, the shaking stopped.
“Dance with me.”
The crowd was clapping loudly. If they only knew what all this meant. If they only knew I could very well be slapped right across the face.
“You hate to dance in public,” she said, and that grin . . . oh, that grin. It still melted my heart.
“Not anymore.”
I don’t know who the little old lady was that suddenly appeared by our side, but as if on cue, she took the microphone, then pitched a thumb in my direction while looking at Faith. “Dance with him. Poor sucker looks like he could use a good dance from a hot woman.”
We both laughed, and I drew her into my arms. I guided her down the front steps of the stage and we danced right in front, on a dirt floor that probably hadn’t seen any dancing shoes for quite some time. A few other couples joined us, but at that moment, I felt like it was me, Faith, and the bright-blue sky.
Her face was nestled against my shoulder, right at the crook of my neck.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Because you are my wife, and I want you to come home.”
She raised her head, her face close to mine, her eyes shining with hope and tragedy all at once. “I can’t leave here and go back to New York.”
“I didn’t say New York,” I replied, placing her hand on my chest. Surely she could hear how loudly my heart was beckoning her. “I said come home.”
She nodded. Tears ran down her face.
“I’m sorry, Faith. I’m sorry for all I’ve done. My pride, my selfishness, my need to try to cover for myself rather than tell you the truth.”
“I shouldn’t have run.” She sniffled. “I left you in the middle of a big mess because I only wanted the fairy-tale part of it.”
“Well—” I smiled—“we’re definitely no Disney movie anymore, are we?”
We laughed and I pulled her to me. The music continued, and I managed to tune everything and everyone out, except one young, strong-looking guy, standing under an overhang, watching us. Somehow he didn’t seem like a stranger. Our eyes met, and a weird feeling shot through me, one of those times when you think maybe God talked to you, or maybe you’re just crazy. But something told me this guy had watched over Faith while I was gone cleaning up my messes. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his expression seemed resigned. He gave me a short, definitive nod that said I was right where I was supposed to be and not to ever forget it. Then he disappeared into the crowd.
“You hear that?” Faith said suddenly.
My attention returned to her. “What?”
“The music.”
“What about it?”
“It’s ours.”
I drew her in close, held on to her tight, danced her through the dirt and the sunshine. I glanced up once more to find Calvin smiling over us. He gave me a salute and a wink, then walked off in the direction of the stables.
My dad saved me. That dad saved our marriage.
I knew it now. Family grounded us, rooted us, nurtured us, and sometimes even saved us. In my life, they would never be taken for granted again.
63
CALVIN
I WAS SURPRISED when they told me it was the first day of spring. I was pretty sure I was going to kick the bucket sometime before Christmas. Weeks had passed that I’d barely been conscious for. That wasn’t how I wanted to live, with large gaps of time missing in my life.
“Wilma. Wilma!”
I heard her hurried footsteps. “Mr. Barnett, you’re awake!” I felt her grab my wrist, press her fingers into my veins.
I didn’t have the strength to take it away, but I gave her the best stink eye someone could give without actually opening the eye. Except, suddenly, my eyes were open. Everything was blurry. “I’m awake, so I’m pretty sure that means my blood’s pumping.”
I could tell Wilma was giving me the stink eye back. “So this was what your daughter was talking about. Said you’d be an awful patient.”
I looked closer at her, trying to make her out through the gray fog that had become my vision. Her voice was different. “You’re not Wilma.”
“I’m Dorothy. Wilma retired.”
“I’m outliving my hospice nurses?”
“Retired, not dead.”
“Same thing.”
It looked like she put a cell phone to her ear, then dropped it to her side when we heard the front door open.
“I was just calling you,” she said. “Calvin, your daughter Faith is here.”
“He’s awake?”
“Awake and talking and doing quite a bit of griping.”
I could hear the smile in Faith’s voice. “That’s a good sign.”
I couldn’t explain why I was awake, but I didn’t feel very much alive. My thoughts, my whole brain really, had seemed to shrink and shrivel, almost like I could feel it being sucked into a black hole of unconsciousness. But I was alive enough to know how much I hated having a big hospital bed in my living room. The girls thought it’d be nice, so I could hear the TV, get more sunlight. But it had to be an awfully imposing sight to walk in to.
I felt Faith’s hand in mine. I tried to squeeze it, to let her know I knew she was there, but I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer and I couldn’t talk, even though I wanted to.
“Daddy? Can you hear me? Daddy, I’m right here.”
“His vitals are dropping again,” Dorothy said.
“Can he hear me?”
“Yes, I believe he can.”
“He was just awake. What happened?”
“Sometimes,” Dorothy whispered though I could hear her fine, “right before someone dies, they’ll have a surge of consciousness. Open their eyes. Even talk.”
“Daddy, it’s Faith. I’m right here.”
I knew she was. I really wish she hadn’t been because I didn’t want her to see me like this. I didn’t want this to be her last memory of me. The girls had held an almost-constant vigil by my bedside, and that was probably half the reason I couldn’t get myself to shake this old body. I kept thinking if they’d go away for a while, I could slip out under the cover of darkness or something. But I was realizing I didn’t have much control over this.
Open your eyes.
I was a stubborn old goat, which was probably the other half of the reason I hadn’t croaked yet. I didn’t like anybody telling me what to do. Lee had told me at Thanksgiving I probably only had a few weeks left, so I had to prove him wrong just to say I could, even though it was really defeating the purpose because I would’ve been happy dying months ago.
I managed to open my eyes again. She was watercolor in motion right before me.
“Daddy! Hi. Hi there.” She lifted my hand, and it felt like she put it on a ball. “Can you feel him kicking? He’s kicking really hard. He’s very strong.”
A baby? I hadn’t remembered.
“We’ve decided to name him Calvin.”
I closed my eyes, hoped she saw a smile on my face. What do you know about that? Calvin! I hoped that name would serve him well. And knew his family would serve him even better.
“Silver’s doing great. We’ve been teaching Luke how to ride. He’s kind of a natural, to tell you the truth.”
Stubborn old mule. Knew he’d try to hang on longer than me. Wanted to see me out.
“I’m going to go ahead and call Olivia,” I heard Dorothy say. “His blood pressure is dropping pretty . . .”
Words faded. Light faded. In their place, I heard the strong, majestic chords of the organ and the words to my favorite hymn, “How Great Thou Art,” being sung by what sounded like a million voices, all belonging to me. I’d never heard anything like it. I wanted to be nearer to it. I wanted to sing it too. I desperately searched for a way to it.
Father, release me from this world.
I somehow managed to look up. I reached out.
And then there He was. And right behind Him, she was there too.
About the Authors
RENE GUTTERIDGE is the author of nineteen novels, including Misery Loves Company, Possession, Listen, and the Storm series from Tyndale House Publishers and Never the Bride, the Boo series, and the Occupational Hazards series from WaterBrook Multnomah. She also released My Life as a Doormat and The Ultimate Gift: The Novelization with Thomas Nelson. Rene is also known for her Christian comedy sketches. She studied screenwriting while earning a mass communications degree, graduating magna cum laude from Oklahoma City University and earning the Excellence in Mass Communication Award. She served as the full-time director of drama for First United Methodist Church for five years before leaving to stay home and write. She enjoys instructing at writers conferences and in college classrooms. She lives with her husband, Sean, a musician, and their children in Oklahoma City. Visit her website at www.renegutteridge.com.
JOHN WARD has over twenty-five years of experience in the film industry on both sides of the camera, in projects ranging from large studio blockbusters to independent films to cutting-edge emerging media.
He began his show business career at age twelve when his little sister, Jennifer, became Drew Barrymore’s photo double for the film Firestarter. Within a few weeks of shooting, Drew moved in with the Ward family, and John was thrust into Hollywood. Catching the acting bug, John appeared in twenty-seven feature films and television episodes including Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Sleeping with the Enemy, and Matlock, to name a few.
While continuing his acting, John attended the University of North Carolina, where he began screenwriting and directing films. While in school, he wrote and directed Go West, which was nominated for a Student Academy Award.
John wrote, produced, directed, and starred in Enchanted, which was sold to the Showtime and Starz networks. It also garnered John’s admission into the Directors Guild of America as a director member at the age of twenty-five.
By the release of Enchanted, John had sold his screenplay Cindy: A Cinderella Story to Lakeshore Entertainment (maker of Million Dollar Baby, Runaway Bride, and Underworld). He continued his relationship there, writing an additional seven screenplays on the Paramount lot.
With a desire to return to film production, John began work on the Liquid DVD series in 2006. He wrote, produced, and directed the seven-film series for Thomas Nelson. The films parallel books of the Bible, giving them a modern context and feel. All seven DVDs (The Ten: 1-5, The Ten: 6-10, Money Talks, Live at Five, Mirror Image, Fork in the Road, and Crossing) debuted worldwide in September 2007. To date, Liquid films have been experienced by over 2 million people.
In 2009, John wrote, directed, and starred in his first faith-based feature film, titled I AM. The movie portrays the Ten Commandments, unknowingly lived out by ten different characters as their lives intersect on the streets of Los Angeles. Released by 20th Century Fox in October 2010, I AM made history by premiering on 10/10/10 to over 2,500 churches on six different continents to an estimated audience of 1.5 million people.
John currently serves as president of Bayridge Films, where he creates feature films and television as well as consults on fiction and other multimedia communications.
He and his wife, Christy, reside in Newport Beach, California, with their two children, Cali and Jack.
Discussion Questions
Faith and Luke leave their families in different ways. Why do you think Faith felt she needed to pull away from her family? Why did Luke? Was it necessary for them to leave?
How do you feel about Luke’s brother, Jake, and his outbursts against Faith throughout the novel? Do you think his initial assumptions about Faith were justified? By the end of the story, has Jake redeemed himself for his previous behavior? If so, what is his saving grace?
Faith, feeling betrayed by Luke, returns to the familiarity of her hometown. Have you ever felt overwhelmed by your circumstances and wanted to run to something comfortable? Do you see this instinct as positive or negative?
After his arrest, Luke must fight to put together the broken pieces of his life. He finally turns to his family, particularly his brother, to help him through this rough patch. Did you agree with his decision to go to Jake? When faced with personal disarray, who do you turn to?
Faith, the symbol of the prodigal daughter, returns home to find her sister managing their father’s life. How does Olivia’s treatment of Cal differ from Faith’s? If you were in Olivia’s position, how would you feel about Faith’s homecoming?
There are many different kinds of betrayal in this story. Between husband and wife. Between sisters. Between brothers. Could you relate to the characters’ thoughts and emotions in these situations? How do you react when faced with the betrayal of a friend or loved one?
Calvin, Faith and Olivia’s father, decides against treatment for his disease. How do you feel about this decision? Have you or your loved one ever faced a similar choice?
During the last moments of her life, Catherine vacillates between fear and peace, between fighting for her life and trusting that God has a plan. Have you ever found yourself in a similar struggle, where you felt unsure of God’s plan? What was the result?
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