The Color of Hope

by Kim Cash Tate

  Libby served herself a helping of roast beef. “Wow. You would’ve been Mr. and Mrs. right now.”

  “Secret wedding, huh?” Marcus said.

  “I don’t know if it was secret so much as you weren’t invited,” Stephanie said. “Hold up . . . or me, for that matter.” She narrowed her eyes at Janelle and Kory. “How y’all gonna have a ‘just us’ wedding in this family? That’s not gonna work.”

  “Works just fine.” Libby was spooning potatoes. “I encouraged her to do it. We can celebrate with them afterward.”

  “You can celebrate with them afterward.” Stephanie pointed her fork at them. “I’ll be watching. And if I see the two of you and three little people sneaking off, I’m following. It’ll be a ‘just us and Stephanie’ wedding.”

  Janelle laughed. “At this rate, maybe we’ll be married by spring.”

  “What made you show up out of the blue today, Libby?” Marcus said.

  “Exactly what Janelle was referring to,” Libby said. “Everything that happened this weekend. She filled me in, and I was devastated. I had to come.” She looked at Marcus. “How are you feeling? I can’t imagine my life being threatened like that.”

  Marcus glanced at Charley, who was focused on her plate.

  “When I think about what happened with Sam,” he said, “I can get over a gun in my face. Not that I’m dropping charges. If nothing else, Skip Willoughby needs to learn he can’t go around bullying people.”

  “Oh my goodness, that reminds me.” Libby had forked up some food but set it back down. “Aunt Gwynn said back in the day, Skip Willoughby paid a visit to Todd’s granddad and made it known that there would be consequences if the relationship between Aunt Gwynn and Jim didn’t end.”

  “What? That’s the exact same thing he did with us,” Marcus said.

  Charley looked sick.

  “When did you talk to Aunt Gwynn?” Stephanie said.

  “Oh. Yeah. Haven’t filled you in yet.” Libby looked around Travis to see Stephanie better. “I spent an impromptu weekend in Jersey and really bonded with them. I’ll tell you more later, but, wow, I hadn’t put her story together with Marcus’s until just now.”

  “I know it might seem like a small thing,” Stephanie said, “but I’m still bothered by the flippant way he regarded Sam during the service.”

  Stephanie had shared it earlier with the others and filled Libby in now.

  Her frustration was palpable. “I mean, it was like she was nothing,” Stephanie said. “Makes me so sad when I think of how special she was and how no one seemed to treat her that way, even now. When people think of her, it’ll be about the girl no one knew or the girl in the video or the girl who committed suicide.” She sighed. “I don’t want her to be remembered like that.”

  “Then change the story,” Libby said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Libby sipped her lemonade. “We talk about it in our planning meetings. When people leave our events, we want them telling the story we want them to tell. So we supply the right touches that leave an impression.” She paused, thinking. “In this case, I could see you maybe writing about who she really was, an article for the school newspaper, a blog, anything. It would not only change the narrative that’s out there; it could be healing as well.”

  As her thoughts churned, Libby spoke faster. “Janelle said Sam went to Bible study with you all. It would be powerful if you brought Jesus into it that way—taking it to another level. You could honor her memory and also point people to Christ.”

  Libby got some surprised looks for that one too.

  Stephanie cocked her head on an elbow. “Okay, so that’s what you’ve been up to all this time you’ve been away? Getting deep and spiritual?”

  “I don’t know about deep,” Libby said, “but it’s probably time to share with you all that there’s been a definite change.” Libby took a breath. “I’ve committed my life to Jesus, and I started attending church in Raleigh. Came straight from there to here today.”

  There seemed to be a delayed reaction. Then everyone jumped up at once to hug her.

  Travis was last. He stood and spoke so no one else heard. Libby stared hard at him, then left an almost full plate and walked with him out the back door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  We’ve been here before.

  That was Libby’s first thought as she and Travis lowered themselves into the swing on the back porch. Nearly a year ago, when they’d gotten back in touch after more than a decade, they’d hashed out past grievances in this very spot.

  The swing swayed slowly back and forth as they stared in different directions. It was still light out, but cloudy and semi-cool, the intermittent rain having ushered in a slight breeze.

  Hunched over, forearms on his thighs, Travis glanced at her. “Why didn’t you tell me about the change in your life? Before now, that is.”

  She stared at the slats on the porch. “It was personal for me. I was on a journey, reading the Bible, studying other resources . . . I didn’t want any interference.”

  He looked away, out into the yard. “Interference . . . that’s what I would’ve been?” He turned back to her. “We talked about this, Libby, at the reunion. Talked about committing your life to Jesus, but at the time you weren’t ready. I told you I’d be praying for you, and I have. Then you have this big spiritual awakening”—he gestured with his hands—“and I get to find out weeks later in a group announcement?”

  “Is something wrong with that?”

  Travis raised himself slightly. “If you want to know the truth, I’m a little hurt by it. I thought we had something more special than that.”

  “Why?” Libby gave him a bewildered look. “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t be friends. Why would you think I owed you anything?”

  “And why did I say we shouldn’t be friends? It was because I had feelings for you I couldn’t act on because you weren’t walking with the Lord. Then you start walking with the Lord . . .” He looked away, frustrated. “A phone call would’ve been nice.”

  “Every time I see you, you look rather happy with Trina,” Libby said. “I didn’t want to get in the middle of that.”

  He looked back at her. “Now Trina’s the excuse?”

  “Trina’s the reality.”

  He got up, sending the swing out of rhythm. Walking to the edge of the porch, he sighed and looked up into the clouds. After a long moment, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  He turned around. “I made this about me. Instead of focusing on why you didn’t tell me, I should’ve been rejoicing with you.” He leaned against the porch rail. “Like I said, I’ve been praying, and I thank God that He drew you that way. The little you described is awesome. I love that you dug in the way you did. It’s like . . . you discovered the treasure.”

  “That’s exactly what it was like,” Libby said. “I grew up hearing Bible verses, but suddenly they came alive to me, and they were like treasures.” Her eyes brightened. “I remember reading in the gospel of John—and I can’t remember exactly how it’s said—but it was about becoming a child of God, and it said being born, not of blood . . .” She stared off, trying to remember.

  “Or of the will of the flesh,” Travis said, “or of the will of man . . .”

  Libby finished it. “But of God.” She said it with awe. “How many times have I heard that? But that time, I was, like, wow . . . that’s what being born again is all about. When God does it. Then all these other verses about being ‘recreated’ came at me—like the verses in I John about being born of God.” Libby stopped. “I could go on and on. It was so good.”

  Travis was staring at her. “I’m standing here thinking that all these years I’ve known you, we’ve never once had a conversation like this.”

  Libby reflected on that. “I told Aunt Gwynn that my heart had been broken from the one relationship that was meaningful to me. But as I think about it, it’s like you said. We weren’t having conversations like this. So I wonder what I t
hought was so meaningful about it.”

  “I don’t think it’s so hard to figure out.” He joined her again on the swing. “There was always a spark between us—sometimes nearing explosion—and also a deep affection and caring. It wasn’t grounded in the right things, true. But the special connection has always been there.”

  She didn’t know if she wanted to know, but she had to ask. “You think . . . still?”

  “I know still.”

  “But like I said, Trina is your reality now, and—”

  “Libby, look around. Do you see Trina?”

  He paused for her answer, but she only looked down.

  “I actually invited her here today.”

  Curious, Libby turned back toward him.

  “Janelle invited me to dinner after church. Trina was also at church, and they’re friends, so Janelle said I could feel free to invite her too. And I did, but she said no.”

  “Why?”

  “She said she saw the dynamic last week when you were leaving and everyone but me went to greet you. She said that wasn’t like me, and that I wasn’t myself afterward—just like after we saw you at Mama Jay’s.” He paused. “I was really sorry about that, by the way.”

  Libby simply let him continue.

  “So she asked me pointedly if there was romantic history between us, which opened up a long conversation that ended with her saying I didn’t feel the same connection with her that she felt for me.” He hesitated, looking at nothing in particular. “She said I still had feelings for you.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I couldn’t say anything. I knew she was right. But I thought to myself, Great. I’ll never have a serious relationship if I can’t get over these feelings I have for a woman I can’t be with.”

  “It makes sense to me now,” Libby said. “We were in two different worlds. I was still in darkness. You were in the light.” The magnitude of it all struck her. “I understand why you couldn’t be with me.”

  Travis stared at her for long seconds. “But that’s not the case anymore.”

  Libby felt his words deep in her heart, and at the same time, her mind was poised to reject them.

  “Travis, I’m not the woman you deserve. You changed right after college, but I’ve had another ten years of living in ways that . . . well, weren’t pleasing to God. You need a woman who’s—”

  “What, perfect?” he said. “She doesn’t exist. And if she did, she wouldn’t want me because I’m not perfect. What matters is we’ve both been changed by the grace of God.” His gaze penetrated. “You are more than I deserve. Just the thought that God would give me the one person I’ve been crazy about my entire life.”

  “Really?”

  “Are you kidding? I was crazy about you when we were running around in this very backyard, and you were telling me to stop bugging you.”

  “Yeah, literally.” Libby laughed faintly. “Chasing me with those stupid worms.”

  He took her hand. “Come here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He led her down the steps and into the yard.

  “But the grass is wet, Travis.”

  “You’ll live.”

  They walked beyond the main backyard over to a clearing and stopped at the water tower.

  “Remember this?” he said.

  Her mind traveled back in time. “That night you found me during hide-and-seek, and per the rules—rules you boys had changed up—the one seeking could pick one person they found and kiss them.”

  “And I picked you. But you would only let me kiss you on your hand. Like this.” He was holding her hand still and lifted it, kissing the back.

  Goose bumps danced up Libby’s arm. “I’m pretty sure it didn’t give me that feeling, though.”

  “You don’t think so?” He kissed the inside of her hand.

  “No. I’m certain.”

  He put his arms around her and brought her close, gazing into her eyes. “I’m just wondering if you have that same aversion to a real kiss right now.”

  She could feel his heart beating against hers. “It’s not like we’ve never had a real kiss.”

  “But like our conversation, I think this will be more meaningful too.”

  His lips brushed hers, and as the kiss deepened, she knew it was true. This kiss was more meaningful than any they’d had—because it was much more than a kiss. For the first time, she sensed hope and promise between them. She didn’t know where it would lead, nor did she fear where it would lead. Another first . . . she would trust God with the outcome.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Monday, October 4

  VIRAL FACEBOOK VID LINKED TO TEEN’S SUICIDE

  “Are you serious? Front page of the local section? Let me see that.” Stephanie took the newspaper from Marcus and leaned against the kitchen counter, reading.

  Janelle walked in looking harried, searching for her car keys, ready to run the kids to school. She did a double take at Marcus. “What’re you doing here on a weekday morning?”

  “We closed the school today,” Marcus said, “although I’m about to go in for a meeting regarding our response in terms of the media, grief counselors, etc. I got the morning paper and wanted to make sure you all had seen it.”

  Janelle looked over Stephanie’s shoulder and gasped. “It’s in the paper?”

  “I was shocked too,” Stephanie said. “Not that it’s strange for something like this to make the news. Given the facts, the headline wrote itself. But being such a part of what happened, it is strange to see it written up like this.” She pointed at a paragraph. “And look, it says Sam’s mother found her and called 911.”

  “They got one thing right, though.” Marcus poured a bowl of cereal. “It names Ben Willoughby as the one responsible for making and posting the video, and talks about his arrest.”

  “Wow, they even tie in that he’s the grandson of Skip Willoughby and reference his arrest this weekend,” Janelle said.

  Daniel came in. “Mom, we’ve been waiting outside. We’re gonna be late.”

  “We’re leaving right now. Tiffany and Claire are out there?”

  Daniel gave her a look.

  “Okay. You did say we. Let’s go.” She looked at Stephanie. “Save that so I can read the rest.”

  “See, this is what I’ve been saying.” Stephanie laid the paper down. “They covered everything in that article from cyberspace bullying to teen suicide statistics to the Willoughby family. But very little about Sam herself.”

  “I noticed that.” Marcus wiped some milk from his lip. “I’m guessing they rushed out the story before they could amass a profile of her.”

  The side door opened and banged close, footsteps moving quickly inside. It was Todd. “Hey, Becca said to turn to Channel 29. They said they’re about to cover a tragic story in a small town that’s left a community devastated, and they showed Sam’s picture.”

  “It made national news?” Marcus said.