by Leah Atwood
“Just come back to me, Ryan. I’ll be waiting. As long as it takes.”
“I’ll be there. Love you, Ellie. See you soon.”
The line went dead. I looked up to see Nick and Maura sharing a sweet moment, their heads close together as they talked quietly.
Ryan was alive. And he was coming home. That’s all that mattered.
I bowed my head.
Thank you, Jesus.
Chapter 29
~~♥~~
Saturday, December 23
The next morning, I put in a call to the Editor-in-Chief of the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Being Saturday, and only two days before Christmas, I understood the chances were slim I’d get a response until after Christmas, if not in the New Year.
“Cleveland Plain Dealer. How may I help you?”
Startled, I hesitated a moment, unsure whether a “live” person was behind the voice or whether it was a recorded message.
“My name is Eleanor Franklin, and I’d like to leave a message for the Editor-in-Chief.”
As soon as I said my name, I could tell the call was patched through to another number from what must be an answering service.
“Hello, Miss Franklin. This is Aubrey Markham. I’m the Managing Editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer. I’ve heard the good news about your fiancé. Congratulations to you and Private Sullivan from all the staff here at the paper.”
“Thank you.” I inhaled a quick breath. “Ms. Markham, I have an idea to propose to you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve received several messages from one of your staff reporters, Jonathan Bell, asking for an exclusive story. I’ll give you that story,” I told her, “if you will agree to make prominent mention of Perchance to Dream. I’m not offering our story to anyone else. I’d prefer to keep it local.”
“Certainly, Miss Franklin. When do you have in mind?”
“I realize it’s very close to Christmas, but are you available to meet in two hours? I’m willing to come to your offices.”
“We can come to you—”
“I know where you are.”
Ms. Markham didn’t hesitate. “We’d love to get your story. Will you grant permission to syndicate?”
Even better. “That won’t be a problem.”
“Thank you, Miss Franklin. I’ll meet you in my office in two hours. Check in with the security guard at the desk on the ground floor. He’ll send you up to our floor, and I’ll meet you at the elevator doors.”
I smiled. “I’ll see you in two hours.”
~~♥~~
Late in the afternoon, I pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside Cade’s Corner Community Church. The sanctuary was open most of the time during the season of Advent and until midnight the week leading up to Christmas. The doors in the front vestibule leading into the chapel were open. I smiled at the sight of the beautiful rows of poinsettias lining either side of the raised platform. The festive and elegant holiday wreaths that Mom, Mary, Nick, Maura and I had helped to hang decorated the side walls.
“Fairest Lord Jesus,” I began to sing under my breath as I slowly made my way down the aisle. I don’t know why that hymn popped into my mind, but I’m not going to resist the inner prompting from the Holy Spirit. I’ve learned to listen.
Removing my coat, I unwound the scarf from my neck and then yanked my gloves from my near-frozen hands. I could hear the popping of static cling as I removed my knit cap. Ugh. With a frown, I slid the ponytail holder from my hair and shook my hair around my shoulders, smoothing my hands over it.
This is the church where I’ve grown up—dedicated when I was six months old, baptized when I was eight. The same church where Ryan and I will be married in two days.
“Thee will I cherish,” I sang. “Thee will I honor.” My voice faded as I dropped onto the same pew I’d occupied nearly every Sunday morning through the years. Sunday evenings when we still had an evening service (they discontinued it a number of years ago) and Wednesday prayer meetings. Blessed with good health, I rarely missed a Sunday, and neither had Ryan. His family sat across from us on the left side of the sanctuary. My gaze wandered to where he’d sit and make goofy faces at me as we rose for a hymn.
As I sat there on that pew, a vision of Hayley Kellerman came into my mind. A quiet girl, Hayley was in my class at school. Her family started coming to the church one September, not long after her diagnosis of leukemia—cancer of the blood, my dad explained. I didn’t know Hayley well, but her parents never allowed her to come to Sunday school. I never understood why. From what I knew, a person couldn’t “catch” cancer by sitting next to someone who suffered from it.
Unfortunately, Hayley’s cancer spread quickly. After she died late in the spring of the following year, I asked Jesus for the second time to come and dwell in my heart. Full of doubts, I wanted to be positive I’d be in Heaven for eternity in the event my “conversion experience” (Grandma Franklin’s term) didn’t really “take” the first time around.
All I know is that Hayley’s death scared me. How could we be absolutely sure we’d go to Heaven? I don’t think it was so much that I doubted God, but that I was afraid of the unknown. I definitely had a lot of questions.
Ryan caught wind of my doubts after I let it slip in one of our many conversations. We were waiting for our parents in the church parking lot, leaning against the Sullivan Big Red Monster, their fire engine red minivan.
“Sass, if you confessed to Jesus the bad things you’ve done”—a whole other topic, but really, how bad can you be when you’re a kid?—“asked Him for forgiveness, and asked Him to come live in your heart, you can’t lose your salvation. Ever.”
“Really?”
He gave me a look that clearly conveyed I was a silly girl with frivolous thoughts.
“But how do you know?” I said. “Does God talk to you directly?”
“Sort of.” His brow scrunched in the way it did when he was deep in thought. “I mean, it’s not like I hear this booming voice from Heaven or anything. It’s more like a whisper inside me or something.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s kind of hard to explain, but I think that’s what faith is all about. We believe that Jesus watches over us and takes care of us.”
A week later, Ryan came to our house with his Bible under his arm. I’d barely let him in the front door when he opened the Bible and started reading me verses of scripture.
“Whoa.” I held up one hand. “Hello to you, too.”
“Sorry.” Ryan’s cheeks flushed a light red color. “The answers to your questions are in your Bible, Sass. Can we go sit down in the kitchen or something?”
I gestured for him to follow and led the way. He started in again as he walked behind me. “There’s a lot of verses that talk about how if you believe in Jesus Christ as the substitute for your sins and received Him as your personal Savior, that’s the only requirement for salvation. Free and easy.” He made it sound as easy as picking up the one free sample item Keeley’s Market offered every week.
“Not everybody thinks it’s so easy,” I said with all the wisdom of an eight-year-old kid.
“Yeah, maybe.” Ryan plopped down on a chair and put the Bible in front of him on the table. “Can I have a glass of milk?”
“Sure. Want a fried egg sandwich?”
He frowned. “Depends. Who’s making it?”
“You’re looking at her. I can try, anyway.”
“That’s okay. Milk sounds good, though.” When I poured the milk and put the glass on the table in front of him, he thanked me. “Got any chocolate syrup?”
With a sigh, I returned to the refrigerator, pulled out the bottle, and then presented it to him. “Your chocolate flavoring, sir.” I sat on the chair beside him. “So which verse about eternity and salvation do you think is the most important?”
Ryan choked on a sip of milk. How he managed to do that, I’ll never know. “Sass, all of the verses are important.”
“I know that.” Shaking my hea
d, I scooted my chair closer to his, prepared to learn. “I’m just asking your opinion. Don’t get mad at me for the way I asked a simple question. That’s carrying this little Bible lesson a bit too far, don’t you think? I go to church, too, you know.”
Ignoring that comment, Ryan thumbed through his Bible. “John has several verses. The most famous one is John 3:16.”
“That’s the verse people print on those big signs and wave at the ballgames, right?”
“Right.” Zealous in his effort to prove his point, Ryan pointed out several verses from John—1:12, 3:36, and 5:24. Then he flipped over a few books to Ephesians. “This one. I think it’s one of the most important verses about how we know we’re going to Heaven.” He stabbed his index finger on the page. “Ephesians 2, verses 8 and 9. Read those.”
“Out loud?”
“If you don’t mind.” He sat back, prepared to listen as I dutifully read the passage.
“‘For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.’”
Sitting at my kitchen table, Ryan and I had a discussion about what it meant to be a believer in Christ. Taking my hand, he prayed with me. Afterwards, he asked me if I knew I was secure in my salvation.
I’d nodded. “I think the word ‘salvation’ is what threw me off. It confused me.”
Ryan bumped my shoulder with his fist. Only a little so that it didn’t hurt.
As Ryan left the house that day, he turned at the door and said, “We need to trust in the Lord, Sass. If we become missionaries and get killed or something, we’ll still know we’re going to Heaven. Don’t doubt your salvation.”
“Yes, we do need to trust in Him, but I’m not sure about the missionary idea.”
He grinned and tucked his Bible under his arm. “You can do that right here in Cade’s Corner. See you later.”
Chapter 30
~~♥~~
“Yes, Ryan,” I said into the silence of the empty church, “I do trust in the Lord. He takes care of us. He always has, and He always will, no matter what may come.” That sentiment means so much more to me now than ever before in my life. Another chopper carrying Army service personnel had gone down in the last few days. In that crash, however, there had been no survivors. Tears squeezed from my eyes and trailed a path down my cheeks.
“God, please be with those soldiers and their families.”
I lifted my eyes to the wooden cross behind the pulpit. Rather crude, it had been hand-carved out of maple by one of the now-deceased elders in the church. “Thank you, Lord Jesus,” I whispered. “Thou, my soul’s glory, joy, and crown.” I sang quietly in my slightly off-key voice.
Thank you.
Wiping the tears from my face, I started to rise from the pew. The hour was growing late, and I needed to go home and try to get a few hours of rest, if not sleep. I felt so mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, even my bones were tired.
My cell phone rang, the sound jarred me as it echoed around the silent sanctuary. I retrieved it from my purse and stared at the display. Nick Sullivan.
“Hi, Nick.” I don’t know why I lowered my voice since no one else was around to hear.
“Ellie, where are you?”
“At the church, but I’m getting ready to head home. Why?”
“Can you stay put a few more minutes? I’ll be there shortly.”
A pulse of alarm shot through me, alerting all my senses. “Ryan’s still coming home soon, right?” I started to tremble and moved my arm over my middle as I began to rock back and forth on the pew. I stared blindly at the card sandwiched between a Bible and a hymnal in the rack in front of me. Closing my eyes, I prayed under my breath there had been no new developments.
“Nothing to worry about, Ellie. I have a message for you from Ryan, and I’d prefer to give it to you in person,” Nick said. “Considering the sun is going down now, I’ll come to the church. Then I can make sure you get home safely.”
“I’ll be fine walking home. This is Cade’s Corner,” I reminded him.
“I insist. Stay put, and I’ll be there in ten minutes tops.”
“All right, Nick. As you wish.” No sense protesting.
Disconnecting the call, I twisted around and glanced at the pews behind me. Specifically, the pew five rows back. After Ryan and I became an official couple, we sat together on that pew. Some of the other kids even dubbed it “Ryan and Ellie’s Pew.” The only weeks we hadn’t sat together was during the time he dated Amber.
I’d once seen Kendall Lange chase away a new young couple by telling them that pew was reserved. Appalled that Kendall would say such a thing to visitors, I ran over to them with an overly enthusiastic welcome and practically pushed them down onto the pew. Not surprisingly, they’d never returned to the Church of Crazy People.
When I was eighteen, something Pastor Jon—seemingly the church’s youth pastor for all time—told us in our small group Bible study caught our attention.
“In First Timothy, the first chapter, verse 5,” Pastor Jon said, “it says this: ‘But the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.’”
Ryan and I had been growing closer physically—not anything dangerous—but we acknowledged the need to be careful when we were alone. Even sitting on a pew next to one another in church, we’d taken the arm and hand stroking a bit too far on occasion, prompting chastising glares from a few of the more prim and proper older ladies. I’d confessed my uncharitable thoughts to the Lord, but had they forgotten what it was like to be young and in love before they married? Did the passage of time erase that part of their memory?
Later that night, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa in his family room, Ryan and I discussed that verse of scripture. We agreed we both wanted those three things: a pure heart, a good conscience, a sincere faith.
“Are you saying we shouldn’t even kiss?” I said to Ryan. “Is that even possible?” I wasn’t pouting, really, but I wanted to hear how he’d respond.
With all the love in the world shining in those gorgeous blue eyes, Ryan shook his head. “No, I’m not saying that at all. We just can’t take it to the level we did last Saturday night. I’m sorry for getting too carried away.”
“Oh. That’s okay. You weren’t alone on that couch.” My cheeks colored at his honesty, but I fully understood his meaning even though his idea of getting carried away was nothing more than some serious deep kisses. “Ryan, I’ll admit I’ve sinned, at least a little bit, in my thought life about you and me. Does that make me a bad person? I don’t think God loves me any less for having those thoughts.”
Ryan shook his head. “He just wants you to talk with Him about it. Don’t act on those thoughts, but give them over to Him. I know He’ll bless us in the long run for being faithful to Him and each other.” Then he grinned. “When we’re married, feel free to act on those thoughts all you want.”
I’d half-laughed and half-groaned at the same time. I’m pretty sure my cheeks were flaming red. “Not sure that helps.”
From that point on, we’d been more careful. Of course, there were times when one of us would get a little carried away. Then we’d take a deep breath and pull apart. Somehow, by God’s grace, we managed to control ourselves. I can’t lie and say it hasn’t been difficult at times.
I smiled as I recalled the one time when Ryan whispered that he wished we could run away and get married that same night. “I can’t believe how much I want to be married to you, Ellie. Like right this minute.”
“That’s just your hormones talking,” I said, pushing against his chest with a firm but gentle hand. He’d been a little irritated by that comment, mainly because he knew that I was right. For one thing, sitting in his truck wasn’t the safest place.
“Nothing wrong with hormones, but I’m glad the Lord gave me you to keep me in check,” he’d said, raking the fingers of one hand through his hair.
&n
bsp; “Glad I can oblige. Right back at ya.”
Before leaving for his second tour of duty, Ryan sat beside me under the big sycamore tree in our backyard. I’d been going on and on about details for the wedding, mostly about flowers and table settings, and flipping through magazines. At one point, I stopped and caught his look of amused indulgence. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”
“It means a lot to you, so I care. But now it’s time to take a little break.”
With a sigh, I allowed him to take the materials from my hands and put them on the ground. Then he pulled me in his arms. “You are my beautiful girl,” he’d whispered. Cradling my face between his hands, Ryan’s gaze swept across my face, back and forth.
“What are you doing?” I bit my lower lip, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his scrutiny.
“Shh.” He ran his fingers with a gentle touch over my forehead, in a slow trail down my temples, over my cheeks, my jawline, lips, and chin. Like I’d seen blind people do in the movies. “I’m memorizing your face. To carry you with me when I’m gone.”
“You have my photo, Ryan. Several of them.”
He kissed my nose.
“And please don’t say things like ‘when I’m gone.’ You won’t be gone, Ryan. You’ll just be…absent. Temporarily.”
He shook his head with a smile that appeared rather sad although not melancholy. “Not the same thing. What I can tell you is that the Ellie sitting here now, smiling at me with her beautiful hazel eyes”—he brushed his thumbs over my cheeks—“this is the girl I will hold in my heart.”
~~♥~~
With a deep sigh, I glanced at my watch and shifted on the pew. What was keeping Nick? He should have been here by now. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned my head back on the pew and closed my eyes.
“Ryan, wherever you are, I love you and can’t wait to see you.” I glanced at my watch. Since I hadn’t heard more from him, I could only assume he was somewhere in the air between Frankfurt, Germany and Cleveland, Ohio.
