“Let’s talk about what’s going on with you, okay?” he finally said.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Sixteen
Natalie swallowed hard. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, your mom told me most of the details, I think,” he said. “What I want to know is how you’re feeling about things. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m okay,” she muttered, staring down at the table.
“Define okay.”
She could tell that he was trying hard to put her at ease, but she couldn’t seem to find the words. She looked up at him and suddenly—though he still seemed more like a kind counselor than a father to her—what she saw in his eyes opened a door. There was a kindness there, an acceptance without judgment. There was love. Strangely, she found herself wanting to pour out everything. And maybe it wasn’t so strange. Nathan Camfield would leave in a few days, go back to Colombia halfway across the world. Maybe she could tell him things that she could never tell someone she’d have to face day after day. Maybe somehow he could take her shame and guilt with him when he left.
She took a deep breath. “If you want to know the truth, I honestly don’t know how I’m doing. I— I broke the law … did something totally stupid … and my best friend is dead because of it. I’m not sure how I can ever live with something like that. I feel like it’s—like it’s totally unfair that I’m sitting here in one piece, breathing and living.”
He shook his head slowly. “I guess I can understand how you might feel that way,” he said quietly. “But you don’t have much choice but to live with it. Right?”
“I guess. I mean, I’m not going to kill myself or anything.”
“Good,” he said. He cleared his throat. “From what your mom said, it sounds like you’ve done everything you can to make this right—”
“Nothing will ever make this right!” she cried.
He held up a hand. “I know … I know.” His tone became apologetic. “What I mean is that you’ve asked for forgiveness from everyone involved. And your mom said that they’ve all forgiven you.”
“What choice did they have?”
“Oh, they had a choice, Natalie. Nobody had to forgive you.”
“They didn’t have a choice—they’re all Christians—all of Sara’s family. They have to forgive me.” Jon Dever’s face came to her mind, and she wondered, had he forgiven her yet?
“Oh, Nattie …” Her father laughed softly, not unkindly. “It would be nice if forgiveness were that cut-and-dried—even for Christians. But it’s not that easy.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she waited, her gaze trained on the shiny table.
“Do you consider yourself a Christian, Natalie?”
She jerked her head up, taken aback by his question. “Sure. I guess … I mean, I believe in God and everything.”
He waited for more.
“I asked Jesus into my heart, if that’s what you mean,” she told him, “when I was four years old.”
“And is he still there?” He thumped his chest. “In your heart?”
“I guess so.”
“You need to know, Nattie. You can know for sure, you know.”
“Well, I— I never kicked him out or anything,” she smiled wryly. “And I know the Bible is true and all that stuff. I— I’ve never doubted that.”
Her father smiled back at her. “Then he’s there—in your heart. For sure. God promises he will never leave us or forsake us.”
She sighed involuntarily. “Sometimes it seems like it might be easier just not to believe in God at all. Maybe then this stuff wouldn’t bother me so much.”
“Oh, Nattie. Even if you didn’t believe, you’d still have a conscience. It’d be so much worse to have the guilt and not know what to do with it.”
She sat thinking about what he’d said. What had she done with her guilt? She’d said she was sorry. But that didn’t bring Sara back. Sorry seemed a pretty pathetic penance for the horrible, irreversible thing she’d done.
“I just wish God would have kept this from happening in the first place,” she said now.
“I do too, Nattie. I wish it worked that way. But belonging to God doesn’t mean we won’t ever have troubles. We’re human … We’re all going to make mistakes. And other people are human … They’re going to make mistakes that affect us. But belonging to God means that when we do come up against trouble, he’ll be right there with us, helping us get through. But you have to let him help you.”
He was quiet for a minute, and then he said, “You know, my friend David Chambers—the guy you saw in the pictures—had something a little bit like this happen to him when he was younger. He didn’t set out to hurt anyone, but things got out of hand and everything played out differently than he thought it would and—well, it’s a long story, and not really mine to tell—but when it was all said and done, David felt like he had ruined someone’s life. But his testimony now is that the thing that seemed so terrible at the time, ended up being the very thing that brought him to faith in God, brought him ultimately to Timoné. And he’s doing incredible work there now. Making such a difference in our little world.”
He looked down thoughtfully, and when he looked back up at her there was determination in his eyes—and something else. Sadness?
“I want to tell you something, honey.”
The way he called her honey made her feel warm inside.
“The hardest thing—” He stopped short, swallowed hard, and pressed his lips together for a moment before starting in again. “The hardest thing I’ve ever done was to give up your mother—and you. I … I didn’t think I could do it. It seemed impossible. And yet, God was more real to me during that time than he’s ever been. It was like—”
“Yeah, but you hadn’t done anything wrong,” she protested. “None of what happened was your fault. You—”
He stopped her with an upraised palm. “Hear me out, okay?”
She nodded, intent on his words.
“When I went back to Colombia, I had to forgive a lot of people for what had happened. And I did have a choice. I did. And for a while—not very long, praise God—but for a while I made the wrong choice. I was hurt and angry and bitter, and I wanted someone to blame for the way my life had turned out. But I came to realize that even if I could blame someone—say I’d decided to lay all the blame on your mom—it wouldn’t change my circumstances. And in fact, all it would do was eat me up inside. When I made the decision to forgive—everyone, even God, for letting things happen the way they did—I was the one who was set free. And the most wonderful thing happened then.”
Natalie watched his face, and she could see by the faraway light in his eyes that he was remembering something from the past.
“I started to love all those people in a new way, a way I’d never imagined I could. I realize now that it was God loving them through me.” He shook his head, as though rousing himself back to the present. “Do you understand what this has to do with you?”
She shook her head, confused. “I— I don’t think so …”
“Natalie, you have been given the most precious gift. Not only has God forgiven you, but the people who were hurt because of the accident have chosen to forgive you for the part you played. That’s a rare gift. I’ve been in the position of someone who had to forgive when it was really hard to forgive. And because of that, I know that those people love you more today than they did even before this all happened. When you forgive someone, you kind of make an investment in them.” He looked at her, eyebrows knit as though he wanted to understand for her. “Does that make sense?”
She nodded, and tears came to her eyes as she realized how true his words were. She had been forgiven so much.
When he saw that she was crying, his voice softened and he reached out and put a rough hand over hers on the table. “I know that what happened was— Well, you didn’t do it on purpose. You didn’t mean for it to happen. But it’s probably a safe bet to say that you weren’
t asking for God’s direction when you went to that party and when you got in that car after you’d been drinking.”
He waited for her acknowledgment, and she nodded, her mind reeling with all he’d given her to think about.
“The result of your actions was something more terrible than you could have ever guessed would happen. It was the same with your mom back when—”
He hesitated for a second, and Natalie could see in his eyes that he was struggling with how much to say.
“She didn’t know I was still alive. She couldn’t have been expected to know that, but—” Again he paused. “I don’t know how much your mother has told you about what happened with us, Natalie—and maybe it’s not my place to tell you this—but Daria told me that she wasn’t asking for God’s direction when she married Cole. And the consequences for that were huge. Not just for her, but for all of us. But what made the difference, Nattie, is that she acknowledged her mistake and started asking what God wanted her to do to make it right. Like you, she apologized. But she went a step further: When people gave her the gift of their forgiveness, she accepted it. She was grateful. And I know—for me at least—it made me glad I’d offered her my forgiveness. It made it easier to complete the process of forgiving—made it easier to resist the temptation to pick up my unforgiveness and carry it around with me again.”
Natalie looked down at the burn-scarred hand that covered hers. There was an odd comfort in knowing that they had all managed to survive in spite of what had happened. She thought of Mom and Daddy and the deep love they shared. She thought of the man sitting across the table from her, and the joy and fulfillment she had seen on his face in the photographs they’d looked at just minutes ago. And for the first time, she could envision a future ahead of her—a future that might even include some moments of happiness and fulfillment. A tiny seed of hope cracked open, and a fragile sprout emerged.
Nate patted her hand, then in one smooth motion pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “Well, that’s probably enough of the lecture circuit for me tonight. I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds—”
“No. You … you didn’t,” she said, rising and moving toward his side of the table. “I— I needed to hear that. Thank you, Nate— Dad—” She shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t ever know what I should call you.”
“I liked that last one,” he said.
His hopeful smile made her heart soar. “Okay … Dad.”
Her father pulled her into his arms, and she let the tears flow freely.
With Dennis Chastain leading the way, Daria and Cole passed between the towering columns of the county courthouse and ascended the wide cement steps. Natalie walked between them, her head bowed, shoulders stooped. Daria fought back tears.
Their attorney opened the door and held it for them, but Cole held up a hand. “Hang on, Dennis. Could we have a moment?”
“Sure,” he said with a nod. “I’ll wait inside for you.”
Cole put an arm around Daria, and taking Natalie’s hand, he guided them to the side of the portico. “We’ll say our goodbyes now, honey, okay?”
Dennis had warned them that Natalie would be required to serve forty-eight hours of mandatory jail time immediately following the sentencing.
Natalie nodded, her chin quivering, but she didn’t break down. Cole bowed his head, and Daria wept silently.
“Father God,” Cole prayed, “we know you will go with us into that courtroom today—and after. We trust that what happens will be your will. Father, give Natalie—give us all—the strength we need to make it through.”
Daria heard the emotion in his voice and knew that Cole was struggling to continue. Finally he whispered, “Amen.” They embraced Natalie, and though she willingly accepted their hugs, she seemed stiff, wooden.
As they walked through the doors, Daria couldn’t help but remember another day long ago when they’d entered a different courthouse with equally anguished feelings about the verdict that would be handed down. Daria vividly recalled the warring emotions that had filled her heart as the judge had declared her marriage to Cole intact. She was glad and yet unspeakably sad that Nathan—her first love—had had to sacrificially and lovingly relinquish his rights to her as his wife and to custody of their daughter.
Today Daria, too, had—in her heart—given up her rights to Natalie, turning her daughter over to the heavenly Father, trusting that whatever he allowed, he would also give them the strength to bear.
Weeks that seemed an eternity ago, Natalie had stood before a judge and pled guilty to the charge of driving under the influence. Today she would be sentenced.
Dennis Chastain met them inside the door and led them down the long corridor and into the courtroom. They all followed him blindly, their footsteps echoing on the polished floor. Daria had never been so grateful for their lawyer’s reassuring authority. There were half a dozen people scattered throughout the large room, and Daria wondered vaguely what had brought each of them here.
Dennis stopped and pointed to the first row of seats in the gallery. Cole stood aside, and Daria started to slide into the narrow space between the rows, but Natalie turned to them suddenly, a look of desperation on her face. Daria thought her heart would break. At that moment, she would gladly have taken Natalie’s place beside Dennis, would have willingly faced the judge on her daughter’s behalf. But this was something no one could do for Natalie.
Daria reached out and ran a hand down Natalie’s arm. “It’ll be okay, honey,” she whispered.
Cole patted Natalie’s shoulder and turned away. Daria knew by the hard set of his jaw that he, too, was struggling to contain his emotions. Cole put a steady hand on Daria’s back and guided her to a seat in the gallery.
Dennis pulled out a chair for Natalie at a large desk in front of the judge’s bench. Alicia Barstow, the prosecuting attorney came into the courtroom. She and Dennis shook hands and exchanged sober greetings.
A few minutes later, Judge Sanders appeared through a door behind the bench. Everyone stood as he took his seat above them.
“You may be seated,” the judge said, looking out over the nearly empty room. He acknowledged each attorney with a slight nod of his head, then slid a pair of reading glasses over the bridge of his nose. For what seemed an eternity, he shuffled through a sheaf of papers that he’d taken from a folder.
Daria shifted in her seat, and Cole reached for her hand. Finally the judge looked up to address the county attorney. “Ms. Barstow?”
Though Dennis had informed them of how the proceedings would go, still Daria’s ears rang with humiliation as the charges against their daughter were read aloud. The prosecutor made her request for sentencing. As Dennis had predicted, her recommendations were mild.
The prosecutor took her seat, and Judge Sanders gave the floor to Dennis Chastain.
Dennis rose from his chair and stepped from behind the desk. “Your Honor, the prosecutor’s recommendations seem reasonable and prudent to us. We have no argument against them.”
Judge Sanders focused his eyes on Natalie. “Is there anything you wish to say, Miss Camfield? Or any evidence to present in mitigation of sentence before I pronounce the sentence?”
Daria couldn’t see her daughter’s face, but she could tell by the judge’s demeanor that Natalie was meeting his gaze. Natalie’s shoulders rose and fell, and Daria heard the deep intake of air before she spoke.
“Y-Your honor.” Daria could hear the torment in her voice. “I just want to say that I am very, very sorry for what I’ve done. I would give anything—” Natalie’s voice broke, and she shook her head, unable to go on. She turned to Dennis, and Daria saw that her face was contorted with pain, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Dennis nodded reassuringly.
“I’m sorry,” Natalie croaked out, her voice rising an octave. “That’s all … sir …”
Again, the judge studied the papers before him. Finally, he took off his glasses and raised his head to look directly at Natalie
. “Miss Camfield, I’m going to follow the recommendations of the prosecuting attorney—and the recommendation of the DUI Work Restitution. I sentence you to a fine of $500 and forty-eight hours in the county jail. You will serve a probationary period of one year, during which you will report regularly to your probation officer. And as per Kansas law, you will also be required to attend an alcohol information school. Do you understand the conditions of your sentence, Miss Camfield?”
Natalie nodded, and her breath caught on a violent shudder.
The judge closed the folder and looked from Dennis Chastain to the prosecuting attorney. “Custody of the defendant is hereby remanded to the sheriff for execution of the sentence. Unless there is anything further, that concludes this proceeding. This court is adjourned.”
Though Natalie’s sentence was one of the mildest she could have been given, still it was painful for Daria to hear these words spoken and realize that they were meant for her firstborn. Her little girl would not go home with them today. It seemed unbelievable.
And yet Daria and Cole both heaved audible sighs of relief when the sentence was delivered. The mandatory jail sentence was an alarming prospect, and Daria knew that Natalie was frightened. It would not be a picnic, but Dennis had assured them that Natalie would be safe during her stay in the facility. And it would all be over in forty-eight hours—a pittance compared to the weeks of uncertainty that had imprisoned them all since the night of the accident. Daria was so grateful that this terrible time was finally nearing an end.
With tears in their eyes, and gratitude mingled with sorrow, Daria and Cole went forward to thank Dennis. They went to Natalie then and each hugged her for a moment, weeping quietly.
She could not bear to watch as Natalie was led from the courtroom. She let Cole put his arm around her and lead her outside. They walked together through the parking lot, joined in their silence. Cole opened the car door, waited for her to slide across the seat, then closed it after her. He came around and got behind the wheel. For a long minute, they both sat, heads bowed, unspeaking.
After the Rains Page 14
