by Lisa Jordan
Kneeling on the wet grass in front of Dad’s headstone, Lindsey brushed away soggy leaves. The damp earth seeped through her skin. She reached out and traced the letters engraved in the cold marble.
Thomas Andrew Porter
Husband, Father, Friend
Loved by All
May ninth. The day her life changed. Forever.
While at college, she had missed sharing breakfast with Dad. That was their special time. She had decided to surprise her parents by coming home a day earlier than expected. She’d fix breakfast and attend church with them. Bacon fried and draining, she scrambled eggs, expecting Dad to walk through the door at any minute.
As the minutes ticked by, her anxiety had grown as cold as the eggs. Something was wrong. Dad always called if he was running late, especially on a Sunday morning. Always. A promise he made with Mom upon graduating from the academy. To keep her from worrying.
When Stephen knocked on the door, Lindsey knew she’d never see her father again. Tears glistening in his eyes, he asked Lindsey to wake her mother. After hearing the news that Dad had been shot during a routine traffic stop, Lindsey scraped their breakfast into the trash and hadn’t eaten the meal since.
“I miss you, Dad.” If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could dredge up the sound of his barrel-chested laughter from one of the locked corners of her memory. Or the way his arms felt around her. But she didn’t allow herself to indulge in that decadent pool of memories. For a while, after his death, she wanted to float around inside those memories and never resurface to reality.
The words on the headstone blurred. Lindsey thumbed away a stray tear and wiped it on the hem of her skirt. Crying wasn’t going to bring him back. She stood and brushed wet leaves from her clothes.
The wind picked up and she shivered. She rubbed her arms to generate some heat as she trudged to the edge of the cemetery, which overlooked Shelby Lake.
The bluish-green water of Shelby Lake bordered the horizon. On a cloudless summer day, the lake blended with the sky.
A splinter of sunlight fractured the cloud cover and reflected off the jeweled stained-glass windows of the Shelby Lake Community Church where Mom and Dad had been married. Dad’s funeral was the last day she visited the church.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing through the valley. Dark, threatening clouds lumbered across the sky, bullying the scant rays. Raindrops splattered as Lindsey dashed to her car. She slid behind the steering wheel and started the engine. She flicked the heat to high, hoping it warmed her frozen toes quickly.
Peering over her shoulder, Lindsey backed down the drive. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and stepped on the brakes.
A quick scan showed a child kneeling in front of a headstone. She shifted the car into Park, left the engine idling and hurried across the grass. A boy about six or seven years old pushed dark curls off his face, smearing dirt across his forehead. He picked up a bouquet of raggedy-stemmed wild-flowers, shoved them into a dirty quart jar and placed the flowers at the base of the headstone.
What kind of parent left a child unattended in the cemetery? And in the rain?
Seriously?
Raindrops stung Lindsey’s cheeks. The sky blackened. Someone needed to get this kid home. She called out to him, “Hey, it’s beginning to rain.”
The boy started. He jumped to his feet and brushed off his jeans. Pushing hair away from his face again, he turned as if to bolt faster than a baby jackrabbit.
“Do you need a ride home?”
He shook his head, mumbling a response.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”
“No, thank you. I rode my bike.” He pointed to the edge of the grass where a mud-spattered bike lay on its side. No helmet. Even better.
“You’ll get your sling wet if you ride your bike home in the rain. I can throw it in the trunk of my car and give you a lift to your house, if you want.”
How did he manage to ride the bike one-handed in the first place?
He shook his head, covered his left arm with his right hand and looked down at his shoes. He kicked at the grass with the toe of his muddy sneaker. “My dad says I’m not allowed to talk to strangers or take anything from them.”
“You’re smart to listen to your dad. You can use my cell phone to call him.”
The child thrust out his chin as he eyed Lindsey suspiciously. “My dad is a cop. And he said strangers will do anything to get kids to go with them.”
He said it with the same edge as if he was on the playground playing a round of “my dad can beat up your dad.”
Lindsey understood his hesitation, but the longer they stood in the rain, trying to keep him dry wouldn’t be an option. She pointed to the sky. “I didn’t make it rain so I could give you a ride home. If you’d rather ride your bike, that’s fine.” Lindsey shrugged and turned to head back to the car.
“Wait. What about my bike?”
Lindsey stopped. “I’ll put it in my trunk, but we’ll have to hurry.”
Thunder cracked like a gunshot. Lightning flashed, fingering the ground with charged tentacles. The boy trembled, his eyes as large as the bicycle tires. He darted across the lawn and retrieved his bike. He tried to wheel it to her car while keeping his left arm pressed against his stomach, but the bike wobbled and kept veering off course.
Lindsey kicked off her heels, tossed them on the floor of the front seat and ran over to help him. She lifted the bike and shoved it into the trunk. She wiped her muddy hands in the grass and dried them on her already-filthy skirt. They rushed into the car and slammed the door as the sky deluged the cemetery.
“Phew, that was close.” Lindsey laughed as she ran fingers through her soaked hair. Water dripped down her back. The heater blasted her face with hot air, warming her nose and cheeks.
The little boy snapped his seat belt into place and stared out the window. “So much for my flowers.”
“Flowers don’t mind the rain.” She longed to push the damp curls back from his face and give him a hug. He looked so sad and lost.
“What’s your name?”
“Tyler.”
“Do you have a last name?”
The boy hedged, then nodded.
“Will you tell me?”
He shook his head and rubbed dirt from his fingers.
Lindsey pulled her cell phone out of her purse. She turned it on and groaned. Dead battery. And she didn’t have the charger. “Listen, Tyler, my phone died. Do you still want me to give you a ride home? It’s getting dark. I’m sure your parents must be worried.”
Tyler stared out the window and shrugged his small shoulders. “If you were going to kidnap me, you wouldn’t ask, would you?”
Lindsey’s heart melted. “Nah, I’m not a kidnapper. In fact, I grew up here. I came home to visit my mom. My dad used to be a police officer in town.”
Tyler perked up. “He was? What’s his name? Maybe my dad knows him.”
She pictured her dad dressed in his neatly pressed dark blue uniform. Her heart squeezed with pain. “He died five years ago.”
“Do you miss him?”
“More than anything. What’s your address? Will someone be home? I don’t want to take you to an empty house.”
His expression was a mixture of sadness and wistfulness as he gave Lindsey directions to his house.
Following Tyler’s directions, Lindsey pulled into a private drive down the road from the cemetery. She braked in front of a spacious log home nestled in a grove of pine trees. The front porch spanned the length of the house and wrapped around the side. Small evergreen shrubs grew on either side of the wide steps. Hanging baskets of red and white geraniums swayed in the wind. Colorful maple and oak leaves littered the front yard like confetti after a party. A tire swing hung from a sturdy maple branch and spun in the wind, begging someone to come and play.
“I’ll set your bike by the garage. Let your parents know you’re home.” She still couldn’t believe his pa
rents allowed him to wander the cemetery by himself. Shelby Lake used to be a safe community where people left their doors unlocked. Things changed after Dad’s death.
Tyler raced across the yard, managing to splash through most of the puddles. Lindsey gazed after him, biting back the sigh that almost slipped through her lips.
She opened the trunk and wrestled the bike from its awkward position. It was easier to put in than to take out. Rain soaked her back and plastered her sweater to her body.
“Here, let me get that.” A pair of masculine hands grabbed hold of the bike frame and lifted it easily from the trunk.
Lindsey jerked at the sound of the familiar voice and smacked the back of her head on the edge of the trunk. Tears stung her eyes. She stood and rubbed the rapidly forming bump.
Stephen stepped back and set the bike in the grass. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”
Lindsey tucked her wet hair behind her ear and nodded.
Even with his hair slicked to his head and his shirt clinging to him like a second skin, his presence took her breath away. “Hello, Stephen.”
“What are you doing with my kid?” Stephen leaned against the car, and folded his arms across this chest. The rain didn’t seem to bother him. A passerby would have thought he was chatting casually, but his clenched jaw, narrowed gaze and flared nostrils revealed the truth.
“Tyler is your son?”
Stephen nodded, but remained silent. He watched her with eyes as hard as gemstones.
She stared at the door where the child disappeared. The small boy who tugged on her heartstrings a few minutes ago was the same child she’d resented for so long. An innocent child who was not responsible for the consequences of his parents. Still, if he hadn’t been born, she may have been married to Stephen by now and had her own family.
A tremble started in her ice-cold toes and shimmied its way up the rest of her body. She needed to get out of here. Away from Stephen. Away from his adorable son. Away from Shelby Lake.
“I have to go.” Lindsey swept past him to open the driver’s side door.
Stephen grabbed her elbow before she could open the door. “You haven’t told me why you had my son. Running, Lindsey? You’re good at that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You took the easy road. You’re the one who hightailed it out of town. And left me cleaning up the mess. And now, you breeze into town after five years and end up at my house with my kid.”
“Easy road? Are you kidding me? You’re the reason I left, you jerk.” Lindsey pulled her arm free from his grasp and poked him in the chest. “I had no choice. Not if I wanted to have any kind of life. You deserved to clean up the mess, considering you’re the one who created it in the first place.”
Her voice rose with each syllable. Her chest heaved as adrenaline pulsed through her limbs. She saved his kid from potential danger. He should be thanking her, instead of treating her like some kind of villain. “But this has nothing to do with me. He was wandering the cemetery by himself. Anyone could have snatched him. What kind of parent doesn’t know where his own kid is?”
“The kind that’s been freaking out for the past hour.” Stephen rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. The creases around his eyes deepened. His shoulders sagged as he shoved his hands in his front pockets. He looked as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Maybe he did.
“Tyler left without my permission. I was talking to Dad and Ty was supposed to be doing his homework. When I came into the house, he was gone. I searched the woods for him. I was about to get in my SUV when you pulled in. Why am I even explaining this to you?”
She lowered her voice. “What was he doing at the cemetery?”
“Visiting his mom. He’s been asking to put flowers on her grave for days, but with the constant rain, we couldn’t. He must have gotten tired of me saying no and slipped out when my back was turned.”
Flowers. For his mom.
Losing someone she loved was one of the worst feelings in the world. But she was an adult. But a kid…and his own mother…how did he cope with that kind of loss? The fight drained out of Lindsey. Fatigue burrowed deep into her bones. She dragged her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”
Stephen spanned a hand over his eyes, swallowed hard and exhaled. “No need for apologies. I couldn’t handle losing Ty, too. I owe you my gratitude.”
The raw emotion on his face coupled with his ragged voice pierced her heart. She blinked back tears. “You don’t owe me anything.” And she meant it. She didn’t want anything from Stephen. Except for him to leave her alone, for her own self-preservation.
Stephen towel-dried his hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Wiping the wetness from his face, he stared at his reflection, seeing someone who was tired of trying to keep his ducks in a row all the time.
Tyler’s disappearing act had scared him senseless. Even though this single-parent gig wasn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy, he could not cope without Ty. The kid was his life. His reason for getting out of bed every morning.
When he came in the house and found Ty gone, he swore his heart stopped beating for a second. Then when Lindsey pulled in the driveway, he wanted to drag her out of that ugly blue car and kiss her senseless. He owed her. Big-time.
Instead he’d blasted her.
Way to go, dude. Score points with the girl by yelling at her. Yeah, that’s how it’s done.
A monster of a headache pounded behind his eyes. Stephen gripped the edge of the sink. With Tyler to think about, he had no time to wallow in the past. To wonder about what may have happened. His life was different now.
Lord, give me strength. I can’t handle this on my own.
A quiet knock sounded on the bathroom door. “Dad?”
Stephen tossed the brown-and-white striped towel in the hamper and then opened the door. “I’m done. Let’s get you in the tub.”
Tyler stood in the doorway, bracing his left arm against his chest. Mud splatters covered him from head to toe. He kept his focus on the beige carpet outside the door.
“What’s the matter?”
Tyler lifted his red-rimmed eyes. His lips turned down. “IknowI’mnotsupposedtoridewithstrangers.” He paused to fill his lungs. “ItwasthunderingandlightningandIwasscared. Shewasniceandsaidshewasn’takidnapper.”
Stephen knelt on the floor in front of Tyler and put his hands on the child’s shoulders. “Whoa, slow down. You’re talking so fast that I can’t keep up.”
Tears slid down Ty’s cheeks. He buried his face in Stephen’s shoulder and sobbed.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I promise I won’t ride with strangers again.”
Stephen sat on the tiled floor and pulled Ty into his lap. He leaned against stone tile around the corner spa tub and rubbed his cheek against Ty’s soft curls. “Ty, my man, leaving the house without my permission was not cool. Especially with a storm coming. You could have been hurt really bad.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I was so scared when I couldn’t find you. I’m thankful Lindsey was able to give you a ride home. You hate storms, so what made you disobey me like that?”
Tyler wiped his nose with the ribbing of his sweatshirt. “I picked some flowers for Mommy. With all this yucky rain, I thought they would be pretty for her to look at. She could look down from Heaven and know I’m missing her. I didn’t know how dark it was getting until that lady talked to me. She scared me, but not in a bad way. I didn’t hear her coming. She was nice…and pretty.”
A smile lifted Stephen’s lips. The kid had a point. “Your heart was in the right place, pal, but you still disobeyed me.”
Tyler picked at the frayed hole in the knee of his jeans. “I hate the rain. I hate not being able to play soccer. I hate not having Mommy here. Why did she have to die? I miss her.”
“I know you do, buddy. I miss her, too. I guess God decided it was her time to be with Him.” S
tephen pushed the curls off Tyler’s forehead.
“God is selfish.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He has so many other friends in Heaven. Why did He need Mommy, too? Don’t you think we needed her more?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Or what you think. God loves us so much that He gave up His only Son. Does He still sound selfish?”
Tyler shrugged. “I guess not. I still wish I knew why He took Mommy to Heaven now. Why couldn’t he have waited until I was all grown up?”
“We don’t know why God allows certain things to happen. He knows what’s best for us. He has a plan for each of us, but we need to trust and have faith in Him at all times, even when bad things happen.”
“Do you hate God for taking Mommy?” Ty chewed on his bottom lip.
“No, I don’t. And neither should you. When Mom was sick, we didn’t know what she was feeling or how much pain she was in, but God knew. Maybe Mommy was in so much pain that God knew by taking her to Heaven that she wouldn’t have to suffer. Heaven is a great place, and I know Mom is happy there.”
“Why didn’t God heal her? I prayed and prayed for Mommy to get better. Why didn’t He hear me?” Tyler’s voice choked. Burying his face in Stephen’s chest, Tyler gave in to a new surge of tears.
Stephen rocked the kid in his lap while blinking away his own rush of tears. “I don’t know, Ty. God heard all your prayers, but He had to do what He knew was best. God is smarter than you and me. Our hearts hurt because Mommy isn’t with us anymore, but remember she’s not sick in Heaven. And someday you will see her again.”
“I love you, Dad. I hope God doesn’t need you for a long, long time because I need you more.” Tyler looked at Stephen with watery eyes. Wrapping his arms around Stephen’s neck, he squeezed hard.
Stephen blinked several times. He waited a minute to talk because if he spoke now, he’d lose it. He tightened his hold and whispered in the kid’s hair. “I love you, too. And even though I’m a grown-up, I still need you. Don’t forget that.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah?” Stephen loosened his grip, but still kept Tyler in his lap.
