Indigo could add a few more things to the list, but these were the biggest ticket items, and among the most critical.
She read the list to Shelby.
“I could keep my wedding gown for Jamaica, and we could have a small backyard reception on November 15, to celebrate our nuptials. We could have the cake then. You know it will still be warm enough here in Texas, and we won’t have to worry about the summer humidity. That way, everything won’t go to waste.”
“Sounds interesting,” Shelby said. “But I don’t understand—why are you shifting plans this close to your big day? You’ve been dreaming about this wedding for a long time. Are you sure you want to give that up? If so, why? Isn’t your mom coming around?”
Indigo sighed. “Yes and no, Shel. She’s better, but she still hasn’t zeroed in on this wedding. To tell you the truth, I think she’s half wishing I’d put it on hold, to let everything else that’s going on settle down. That’s not something I’m willing to do, though. Max and I are ready to get married. We might change the logistics and the location, but I’ve promised him that I’ll become his wife in November, and that’s a done deal.
“My big question now is, can you and Hunt join us in Jamaica? Max’s sister and her husband say they will, and so will Reuben and Peyton, Max’s two good friends from college, and Nizhoni. They would be the other members of our wedding party.
“Nizhoni is such a great friend—she’s working on getting us reduced airfare with her airline employee discount. Finally makes me glad that she left us here in Jubilant to fly the friendly skies.”
Shelby’s silence unnerved Indigo. Was her best friend going to let her down and refuse to come?
“You know I’ll be there if I can, Indie,” Shelby began, but Indigo cut her off.
“If you can? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you’d let me finish talking, Miss Thang, I’ll tell you.”
Indigo had to laugh at herself. “Sorry for being rude. I guess since I’ve taken the pressure off Mama and Daddy, I’ve transferred it to you. You were trying to tell me something?”
“That’s more like it!” Shelby said.
Indigo knew her friend was getting a kick out of setting her straight.
“As I was trying to say,” she said and chuckled, “if I can get permission to travel internationally, and it’s safe, Hunt and I’ll be there to share your special day. You know we love you guys. You’re my other sister.”
Indigo laid her pen down and settled back in her chair. She crossed her arms and frowned. “Permission? Talk to me, Shel. You and Hunt okay? Everything at work going okay?”
Shelby chuckled. “Let me stop stringing you along. Girl, I am eight weeks pregnant. I need—”
Indigo’s shrieking drowned out Shelby’s words. She settled down to catch her breath and wondered if Shelby could feel her beaming through the phone. “Sorry, Shel. I didn’t hear anything you just said. I can’t believe I’m going to be an auntie!”
“I was saying, I need to ask my doctor if it’s okay for me to fly to Jamaica. I don’t want to miss your wedding, if I can help it.”
“You do what you need to do to keep you and the baby healthy. You know I’ll understand. I’m so excited!”
Indigo paused. “You are too, aren’t you? This is good news, right?” Indigo recalled Shelby’s ambivalence when they discussed this topic during their recent weekend in Dallas.
Shelby chuckled. “Yes, Indie. It’s all good. I’m very happy. Terrified, but happy all the same.”
“How are you feeling? How’s Hunt?”
“The morning sickness is finally going away, as I get closer to twelve weeks,” Shelby said. “Mine and Hunt’s. He’s been experiencing some of the signs of a sympathetic pregnancy.”
“You’re kidding,” Indigo said. Then she zeroed in on what she really wanted to know. “I mean, how are you feeling emotionally? Are you ready for this?”
“Oh.” Shelby said. “That. You know, Indigo, I just turned it over to God and asked him to lead me. I love my husband and Hunt loves me. I know that without a doubt. We’ve talked about my insecurities and his. We’re on solid ground. This baby is a gift. You and Max are going to make great godparents.”
Indigo wanted to cry. “I can’t wait, Shel. You just get to the islands for my wedding. We’ll have some amazing tales to share with our little bundle of joy. Or bundles. Twins would be nice.”
Shelby responded with a dial tone. Indigo gripped the phone in surprise. Shelby had hung up on her? She laughed.
Indigo would call her back shortly, to remind her to check on her passport status. She couldn’t get married without her best friend. If Shelby couldn’t travel internationally, maybe they could find somewhere beautiful in the States to seal their union.
With all she and her family had been through in recent months, Indigo was less concerned about the pomp and circumstance of a wedding and more focused on building a solid marriage. Max was already walking through some tough issues with her and her family. This was the stuff husbands were made of, not the great tux and wedding dance they had been practicing.
Besides, both of them were practical. If Max sold his rancher, they combined their personal contributions to their wedding that her parents weren’t covering, and added any additional savings outside of their emergency cushion, they would have a sizeable down payment for the house they both loved.
Max wanted to make as large a deposit as possible, to keep the mortgage payments in the range they had originally estimated would be manageable with their current careers and expenses. Scaling down the wedding would be worth it, long term.
And, Indigo had accepted that it would be stressful trying to pull off a festive event with Yasmin absent.
Shelby’s announcement this morning had merely added a twist. Indigo picked up the phone to dial Max’s number and share the news, but a text from Shelby came through before she could begin dialing.
U sound like you’re in such a good space. So glad. & Reuben’s part of the picture 2? God does work miracles. Whatever you decide, your wedding day is going 2 B blessed. Luv u, Shel.
Indigo’s heart warmed. She accepted the blessing right here and now and sent up an arrow prayer on Shelby’s behalf. Her friend had made all sound well this morning. She asked God to make it so—her marriage, her career decisions, her baby’s health.
Right back at ya, Shel. Luv u much.
Both of them were on the verge of something new and beautiful and she couldn’t wait.
31
Getting here hadn’t been easy, and Reuben had to admit that his pride had caused unwarranted delays.
Today was his fourth session with Pastor Taylor, and already, he felt like he could be himself and not worry about being ridiculed or gossiped about when he left. Already, he felt better about who he was and where he fit into his family.
It was long past time for him to lose the guilt over surviving the car accident.
“Did you have time to read any of the material I recommended about post-traumatic stress disorder?” Pastor Taylor asked this afternoon.
It was Thursday around lunchtime, and the midday sun streamed in through the solitary window behind him, just over his left shoulder. They were sitting in Pastor Taylor’s home office, an expansive room built onto the rear of the house, with its own entrance and exit.
Reuben nodded. “I did, and I was floored. I can’t believe that nearly twenty years after my parents’ deaths, I could still be affected so deeply. I can’t believe that after all this time, the accident contributed to my panic attacks.”
Pastor Taylor leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. He made a teepee with his fingers. “Your panic attacks and your nightmares. Why not, Reuben? When we stuff pain inside of us, instead of dealing with it head-on, it can’t stay bottled forever. Pressure pops the cork.
“Happens to veterans of war all the time. There are men and women walking the streets of this nation, who went to the first Gulf War in t
he early nineties, who are still suffering from all that they witnessed and experienced. The same is true for soldiers who came home last year from Iraq or Afghanistan.
“You experienced a devastating loss at a pivotal age,” he said. “Not only did both of your parents die, you witnessed their deaths, and then you had to grapple with the fact that you survived. That’s a lot for an adult to handle, let alone a child. Simply because of the fact that you never got help then, you never talked to anyone, it makes perfect sense that the trauma would haunt you.
“Add to that the fact that you never grieved, and you harbored this promise you made to your mother that you feel you didn’t keep.” Pastor Taylor shook his head. “I’m amazed that the panic attacks didn’t come sooner.”
Reuben chuckled. “Seems like I was able to keep it all together until I fell in love and became a father.”
Pastor Taylor nodded. “Exactly. You’d been able to suppress sincere, authentic emotions until then. When you married Peyton and when Charles David was born, these overwhelming feelings of love and protectiveness began competing for the space that the guilt and fear held.
“You aren’t superman, Reuben, and no one is requiring you to be. You need to give yourself permission to grieve the very deep loss you suffered, and to accept that part of the reason you ran away and stayed away was to emotionally protect yourself.”
Reuben squirmed in his seat. All this talk of healing and surviving was a bit much. He felt safe talking to Pastor Taylor about it, knowing what he’d been through with his first wife, Farrah, but still, he felt naked.
Pastor Taylor sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I see the wheels turning in your head. What are you thinking?”
Reuben shrugged. “I don’t know. Just feeling . . . exposed, I guess. And wondering what’s next.”
Pastor Taylor chuckled. “Not used to sharing this much of yourself with someone else, right? I’ve been there.”
“Peyton knows most of this, but that’s different,” Reuben said.
“Yes, it is,” Pastor Taylor said. “She knows the vulnerabilities you’ve allowed to trickle out over your six years together, not the formal diagnosis for why you’ve been struggling. And it could be that you don’t know all that’s on her mind, because she’s holding back to protect you.”
Reuben frowned. Peyton wasn’t one to shy away from the truth. She was usually straightforward about her concerns and her desires. But he remembered how upset she had been the night he had returned home from his spur-of-the-moment drive. He told Pastor Taylor about it, and explained that during his panic attack, somehow he had tried to grab his cell phone but had instead dropped it on the floor of the kitchen. Peyton had found it later the next morning when she swept the floor.
“What was different about her that night?” Pastor Taylor asked.
Reuben paused and looked past Pastor Taylor, out of the window. “I don’t know how to describe it. I guess for the first time since I’ve known her, I saw fear in her eyes. I saw her in a weak moment. Being blind and in unfamiliar surroundings or situations never shake her confidence, but that night, she was frightened and helpless.”
Reuben looked into Pastor Taylor’s eyes. “It scared me, you know?”
“Why?”
“I think because for the first time, I realized that despite the fact that she’s so independent and self-confident, she needs me,” Reuben said. “She needs me to protect her, to love her, and to be healthy and whole for her.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Great, that on one hand, my wife is counting on me to meet these needs, but guilty on the other, because I know that unless I deal with the stuff that’s been tormenting me, I’m a burden to her instead of a hero.”
Pastor Taylor picked up his Bible and thumbed through it, until he found what he was looking for. “It’s interesting that you used the word ‘hero,’ Reuben. Do you really think Peyton wants you to be her ‘hero,’ or does she simply want a healthy helpmate? We men like to add that extra level of machismo, but I’m almost certain that your wife isn’t looking for you to scale mountains on her behalf; she just wants you to climb them with her. You can relax a little.”
Reuben sat back in his chair and grinned. “Yes sir.”
Pastor Taylor extended the Bible toward him and pointed to a passage that was already highlighted—Ephesians 2:8–9: For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. Reuben read the passage, then looked at Pastor Taylor for help to decipher it.
Pastor Taylor closed the Bible and smiled. “Repeat it after me, Reuben: ‘For it is by grace that I have been saved, through faith— not because of anything I’ve done; it is the gift of God—not my works, so I really can’t boast.’”
Reuben repeated the passage as Pastor Taylor recited it, and for the first time, felt the words sink into his spirit. He had been baptized as a child, and in recent weeks, he had been attending the Wednesday night Bible study, but today, this particular Scripture resonated deeply enough to penetrate his core.
“You get it, son? I paraphrased the New International Version here, because I want you to understand it. You can’t do any of this by yourself; you weren’t designed for that. Your job is to love God, to trust God, and to build a solid relationship with him so that he guides your path and gets glory from every aspect of your life. You don’t have to earn his love and his mercy, he gives it to you simply because you’re his child.”
The power of that revelation was overwhelming. It released Reuben—finally—from all that he’d been holding inside or fleeing from or trying to fix. In two Bible verses that he’d never read before, he found the freedom to be okay.
He opened his mouth to share what he was experiencing, but found that he couldn’t speak. The lump that had formed in his throat was too big. Instead of words, tears erupted, and he couldn’t stop them.
Reuben lowered his head and wept. He cried for Mom Meredith and Dad David, and for the little boy he used to be before the accident and their deaths traumatized him. He cried over the decisions he had made from his impaired state since then—going away to college and never coming back, getting married without inviting his family, uprooting Peyton from her native Seattle in the effort to heal himself.
As each scene from his life flashed before his eyes, he sobbed harder.
Pastor Taylor rose from his seat and pushed a box of tissue to the edge of his desk so that Reuben could reach it when he was ready. He came around the desk and patted Reuben’s shoulder on his way toward the door.
“Let it all out, young man,” he said. “You’ve kept those tears inside for too long. God is counting them for you and putting them in a bottle. You let go and give it all to him. You’re going to be alright.”
Pastor Taylor left the study and closed the door behind him.
When he was all alone, Reuben fell to his knees and bowed his head. He stayed in that position until the tears subsided. Then he spoke to God with a respect and reverence for him that had been absent since his parents’ death.
“God, forgive me for being angry with you all of these years, and for not understanding that you didn’t cause my pain—you were there to walk through it with me.” Reuben choked out the prayer just above a whisper, and his voice quivered.
“Forgive me for hurting the people who loved me most. Please heal me and help me make it up to them, especially Mama and Daddy and Indigo. And please help me help my sister Yasmin.”
And then, he was quiet. He sat there on his knees and rested his head on the chair, and let God’s love envelop him. Tonight he was going to sleep well. The nightmares had no more space to call their own.
32
Mama and Daddy might not be ready to hear the truth, but Reuben had decided it was time.
His sessions with Pastor Taylor were giving him clarity, and he needed to own his role in his family’s unbalanced dynamics.
He and Peyton invited his parents to join them for dinner, and after feasting on the meal Peyton had prepared, the five of them, including Charles David, were relaxing in the family room, forced at the boy’s insistence to watch cartoons on Nickelodeon.
Peyton won him over by offering a treat—the chance to watch his shows from his parents’ bed. Charles David dashed into the master suite before she changed her mind.
That left the four adults to themselves, and Daddy didn’t waste time in picking up the remote and turning to ESPN.
Reuben watched golfing highlights with him and toyed with how to broach the subject he intended to address tonight before Mama and Daddy left. He could have kissed Peyton when she opened the conversation right where they needed to start: on Indigo.
“What do you guys think about the latest wedding plans?” Peyton asked.
Daddy lowered the TV volume and turned his attention to Peyton. “What do you mean? Indigo and Max’s wedding?”
Peyton nodded. “They’ve gone from planning a big church ceremony to considering getting hitched in Jamaica to maybe hosting a ceremony on the beach in Florida. That last option was put on the list of possibilities just a few days ago.”
Mama was floored. Reuben was stunned by her surprise.
“Haven’t you been talking to her at all, Mama?” he asked.
Her stuttering and sputtering were answer enough.
“Mama,” Peyton said. A mountain of disappointment dripped from that single word.
“Indigo needs you too, you know,” Reuben said. He walked over to the sofa and sat next to his mother, who was flanked by Daddy on her left. “She needs both of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daddy asked.
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