When they pulled into the driveway, the house looked exactly the same from the outside as it had when he left, except for the cars parked along the cul de sac and pulled up into the empty lot between the Dodds and the Sullivans. He got out and dusted off his pants and realized he was pretty nervous. He wondered if he would remember his speech and if he would embarrass anybody.
But as his mother walked him into the room, his breath caught in his throat. The room was full of friends, old and new, kids he’d gone to junior high school with, kids from the youth group, relatives from his mother’s side of the family, some of Steve’s relatives he’d met briefly, and the chaplains he’d worked with at River Ranch.
His mouth shook with the emotion rising up inside him, and he told himself that he had to be a man, had to keep his eyes dry and his hands steady, at least until he was alone in his own room tonight.
“Mark?”
He heard his mother’s voice at the front of the room. She was holding a navy blue sport coat with an insignia on the lapel. He studied it—the insignia was the picture he had drawn months ago of the father and his son. He had almost forgotten it, though it was packed with meaning for him—about his new heavenly father, and the fact that Mark was growing in his image, and was always on his mind.
“Come on,” she said. “Put it on.”
It was the robe, he realized. The robe from the Prodigal Son. He wove through the crowd to the front of the room and slipped his arms into the sleeves of the new coat. It fit him perfectly.
Everyone got quiet. His mother turned to the crowd, her eyes full of tears. “This coat represents something really special,” she said. “It represents Mark putting on Christ and the life that comes with that choice. And it represents his right standing in our family. In the parable of the Prodigal Son, the father brought out a robe and put it on his son so that everyone would know that he was an heir.”
She smiled. “I don’t have much of an inheritance to leave.” Everyone chuckled. “But I have a family to give Mark, and he’s one of us. And I just wanted him to know that he’s welcome back.”
And then she pulled out the ring that she had had carefully made for him with the same emblem carved in gold. “And I had this made for Mark, too,” she said. “Whenever he wears it, he can look down at it and remember how much his Father in heaven loves him, how much he searched the horizon waiting for him to come home, and how clean his slate is.”
Mark burst into tears, in spite of himself.
“Mark, you have so much ahead of you,” she said, as she slipped the ring onto his shaking finger.
The crowd parted, and Annie pushed through. She looked thinner, taller, healthier than she had before. Her face was more mature, more full of purpose. He’d never seen her more beautiful.
He met her halfway, and she threw her arms around him and began to cry. He buried his face in Annie’s neck. Then Rick came up behind her, and he hugged his brother with the same crushing strength.
Then Sylvia came up, and Brenda and Tory, and their husbands, Barry and David. One by one, he hugged Daniel and Joseph and Leah and Rachel, Spencer and Brittany. Even the baby Hannah, who was walking with the help of her parents, who each held a hand. He hugged Tracy, who was jumping up and down with excitement.
And then he came to Steve. He looked at him awkwardly. He had thanked him before, but he wanted to do it again. He just didn’t know how. Steve shook his hand, then pulled him into a rough hug.
The moment was broken when someone began tinkling a bell to get their attention. It was Rick, standing on the hearth.
“We have a few people who want to say some things,” Rick said. “The first one is from Dr. Harry. He sent it with Sylvia from Nicaragua. If everybody would listen, Mark, you especially…You need to hear what Dr. Harry has to say.”
They turned on the video, and Mark listened as Dr. Harry gave him a blessing such as he’d never received before. And then Rick got up to speak and said things about Mark’s childhood, how he used to skip and make everyone laugh. No one who spoke seemed to recall that Mark had once been arrested for stealing a car, for vandalism, for drugs, for distribution. No one seemed to remember his spending the past year in jail. Instead, you would have thought he was getting an award for feeding the homeless or saving souls.
He couldn’t believe the grace of it all.
Steve hadn’t yet spoken, but Cathy felt moved to say a few more words before he addressed the crowd.
“One more person has a few things to say,” she called out, quieting the crowd. “But before he comes up, I just want to say how proud I am of my son.” She met Mark’s eyes. “I know that what you’ve been through in the last year has been really hard, Mark. And at the beginning, I was ashamed and upset, but today I couldn’t be prouder of you if you had cured cancer or invented some kind of modern gadget that changes the whole world. I love you.” She kissed her fingertips and blew it to Mark.
The door from the kitchen to the garage opened, and she glanced over to see who was coming in. She saw Jerry sticking his head slightly in, looking around with purpose…and anger.
Her heart crashed. How could he come here and make a scene, on Mark’s day? How could he ignore the joy and dig up only the things that affected him? Was he going to heckle Steve’s speech? Challenge his right to stand in the place of father?
Their friends and neighbors kept their eyes on her, as Mark did, so no one else saw Jerry. He backed out and closed the door. Great, Cathy thought—now he was out there like a ticking bomb, volatile and waiting to explode. Something was about to happen, and she couldn’t predict what it was. Her eyes met Sylvia’s in a moment of panic.
“But before we hear from Steve,” she said, “I want Sylvia to come up and say a few words. Ladies and gentlemen, our resident missionary who’s been mentoring my daughter for the last year—Sylvia Bryan.”
Sylvia looked surprised, but she rose to the occasion and came forward, weak and pale. As the crowd applauded, Cathy whispered to Sylvia, “Jerry’s in the garage. Stall while I calm him down.” Sylvia nodded and started to speak. Cathy hurried through the crowd, grabbed Steve’s hand, and pulled him toward the door.
“Jerry’s here,” she whispered. “He’s going to ruin your speech. Come with me to talk to him.”
They hurried out the side door.
Jerry was waiting in the garage, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “What are you doing here?” Cathy asked.
Jerry stiffened. “I’m his father.”
“So what are you going to do? Just come in here and tell everybody not to welcome Mark home, that he’s an ex-con and he doesn’t deserve any of this?”
The anger was clear on Jerry’s face, and he took a step toward Cathy.
Steve stepped between them. “Cathy, let me handle it, okay? You go on back in. Mark’s going to come looking for you, and we don’t want to upset him.”
Cathy drew in a deep breath, then lifted her chin. “All right,” she said, “but so help me, Jerry, if you mess any of this up, you’re going to pay. None of your children will ever forgive you.” With that, she went back into the house.
She tried to act as if nothing was wrong, but her hands trembled. Sylvia’s speech was heartfelt and spontaneous, and she realized that it was a God thing that she had let her friend get up. Sylvia kept talking until Steve stepped back in alone. Then she shot Cathy a questioning look. Cathy nodded grimly and started back to the front.
As Sylvia turned it back over to her, Cathy tried to swallow the tension in her throat. She drew in a deep breath, afraid of what was about to happen.
“There’s one other person who’d like to speak,” she said in a shaky voice. Everyone looked at Steve expectantly. He only looked down at the floor.
“He’s someone who’s had a huge impact in Mark’s life, someone who’s loved him and grieved over every step of this process. Someone who’s celebrating now, just like God is in heaven.”
She looked across the room at Steve and saw him shaking
his head. She frowned and started to urge him to come on, when the door opened and Jerry stepped inside. He took a look around at the crowd, his face reddening.
She started to launch toward him, but Steve held up a hand to stop her. He nodded that it was okay.
Slowly, Jerry pushed through the crowd.
CHAPTER
Eighty-Five
Mark slowly turned and saw Jerry moving to the front. His mouth came open, and his eyes looked so vulnerable Cathy thought they might shatter.
“Uh…” Jerry cleared his throat. “I feel kind of out of place in here.” He coughed nervously and looked down at his son. “Mark…just look at you.”
Mark slid his hands into his pants pockets and looked down at his new shoes.
“I’m not very proud…” He stopped and cleared his throat again. Mark brought his eyes back up, and Cathy moved next to Mark and touched his shoulder. “I’m not very proud of the way I’ve treated you over the last year,” he said. “Even though I’m your dad, I was mad, and I didn’t want you to think I would reward you for what you’d done. But I was wrong, Son.”
Cathy covered her mouth against the muffled sob.
“I’ve missed a lot,” Jerry went on. “I haven’t been there for you. But tonight I’ve been standing outside the door listening to what the people said about you. To tell you the truth, I came here to confront your mother and Steve, who I thought was trying to fill my shoes. And standing out there, I heard all those great things that everybody’s been saying, and I realized that I’ve missed an awful lot. Not just for the last year, but for your whole childhood.”
Mark’s mouth twitched at the corners, and Cathy could see the Herculean effort he was giving to not falling apart. But Jerry was falling apart.
“Mark, I hope you can forgive your old man,” he said, “because when I look at you right now, I’m prouder of you than I’ve ever been in my life. I love you, Mark.”
Before he had a chance to say another word, Mark bolted forward and embraced his father. Cathy saw Jerry dip his head down and kiss Mark’s neck, just like the father had done to the Prodigal Son.
She watched father and son descend back into the crowd, watched the others patting his back and shaking his hand, watched Annie and Rick as they embraced their dad, celebrating the fact that he had come to do this thing for their brother.
Stunned, Cathy pulled back out of the crowd and stepped outside to calm herself. She leaned back against the garage wall, exactly where Jerry had been moments earlier. The door opened, and Steve slipped out.
He looked at her with worried eyes. “I hope you’re not mad,” he said.
“Mad? About what?”
“That I let him in, let him go talk in my place. Let him speak publicly like that to Mark.”
“How could I be mad?” she asked, wiping her tears. “It was exactly what Mark needed. It’s what he longed for all this time. Here I was thinking you were going to step up and make him feel so proud and bless him in a way that he needed so badly. But you did more than that. You gave him back his dad.”
He held her as she wept with joy for what her son had gained, when so many times before, she had wept over what he had lost.
And then the doors opened again, and David Dodd stepped out. They broke the embrace, and Steve whispered, “Why don’t you go on back in? I need to talk to David.”
Cathy went back inside to find her son.
David reached out to shake Steve’s hand. “That was very moving,” he said in a cracked voice. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
“It was your idea,” Steve said. “I appreciate it.”
“You know,” David said, struggling to control his voice, “what happened in there…all the symbolism, the coat you had made for Mark, the ring on his finger, that little insignia, and then watching Mark and his father embrace the way they did. It was a real good picture to me, Steve.”
“A picture of what?” Steve asked.
“A picture of God.” He rubbed his jaw hard, trying to cover the trembling of his mouth. “I just need to think about all this for a while.”
“I’ll pray for you, man,” Steve said.
David nodded. “You know, that didn’t mean a whole lot to me a while back, but I think I’m starting to see that maybe there’s some good to praying. It always seems to work.”
“Every time. Not always the way we want. But I have no regrets.”
David swallowed hard. “If Brenda comes looking for me, tell her I went home, okay? I have some thinking to do.”
“Sure, I will.”
And as David walked down the driveway and crossed the street, Steve prayed that David would see his own Father scanning the horizon, waiting for him to come home.
CHAPTER
Eighty-Six
When the party was over and all the guests had gone home—and Cathy’s kids had gone out for a bite with their father—Sylvia, Brenda, and Tory stayed behind to help Cathy clean up.
The kitchen was almost clean when Sylvia had to sit down. It was jetlag, Cathy thought, on the tail end of a couple of years of the hardest work of her life. Sylvia would rest, and they would take care of her, and by the time they put her back on the plane, she would be fine.
“You haven’t been taking advantage of one of God’s greatest gifts,” she said, bringing Sylvia a mug of coffee and sitting down beside her.
Sylvia sipped, looking puzzled. “And which gift is that?”
“Rest,” Cathy said, kicking off her shoes and pulling her feet up to the couch.
“You’re right,” Tory agreed. “Rest is a gift.” “One of many,” Brenda said. She set her mug down on the coffee table. “Think where we were a year ago, when Cathy thought everything had come crashing down.”
“But it hadn’t,” Cathy said. “Look what came of it.”
“It’s been a full year,” Sylvia said. “A year with a lot of good moments. One of mine was when Annie got off the plane in Managua and saw the car I drive.” She threw her head back and laughed. “You should have seen her face, Cathy. It was priceless. She was trying not to laugh, but then she fell against the car and laughed until she cried. Wish I’d gotten a picture of that.” She sighed. “We loved having her there. It was a good time.”
“But I’m glad you brought her back,” Cathy said. “I missed her. But I have noticed that she’s appreciated driving my little car. Not one complaint.”
“That’s just because it has real windows instead of duct tape.”
“She said you were so tired from pedaling your car,” Cathy said, and they all laughed again.
“So what was your best moment in the last year, Brenda?” Sylvia asked.
She thought a moment. “Mine was getting Daniel his car,” Brenda said. “It’s probably not a whole lot better than yours, Sylvia, but it suited him fine.”
“Mine was the date with Barry,” Tory said, “when he arranged the sitter and took me dancing.”
“The wedding was nice,” Cathy said, feeling that sense of well-being that comes in the wake of joy. “The marriage is even nicer. Best moment? When Mark told me he’d found Christ.”
Sylvia nodded. “When Annie understood that Christ was better than food.”
“When David was so moved today by the picture of the Prodigal Son,” Brenda whispered.
Tory swallowed and drew in a cleansing breath. “When I understood that life’s family joys are more important than my pride.”
“Oh, yeah,” Cathy said, relating too well. “Or when Jerry understood that.” She dropped her feet and leaned up, as if amazed all over again. “The look on Mark’s face when his dad told him he loved him.” Her heart ached with that sensitive joy that always comes with tears. “That was the best moment,” Cathy whispered.
“You’re right,” Brenda whispered. “It was.”
“Yeah,” Tory said as tears rimmed her eyes. “I’ll never forget it.”
“Neither will he,” Sylvia said. “What a precious gift.”
CHAPTE
R
Eighty-Seven
That night, Mark enjoyed settling back into his messiness, as he had not been allowed to do at River Ranch. He took his shirt off and threw it over the basketball hoop on his door, then pulled on a pair of jeans, relishing the feel of them in place of his Cat-in-the-Hat pants.
He plopped down onto his bed and stretched out on the thick mattress.
And then he thanked God that he was out of jail, that he wasn’t the stupid, stubborn kid who went in, that his family had welcomed him back…
He had never expected to feel this sense of well-being again, but tonight all seemed right with his life.
Cathy woke up in the middle of the night and reached over to touch Steve’s chest. He slept soundly, with that rhythmic breathing she had come to depend on. Carefully, she slipped out of bed and walked barefoot across the plush carpet in their new bedroom. She went into the living room and down the hall to Tracy’s room. The child slept with four stuffed animals and a nightlight on. Her hair lay like a blanket across her face, and Cathy pushed it back from her eyes.
Quietly, she slipped out of the room and went up the stairs. Rick’s door was open, and she stopped in the doorway and saw him buried under his covers. He was almost too big for his bed, she thought. She hadn’t noticed it before. But she supposed there was no point in getting him a bigger bed when he had such a small bed in his dorm. She stepped close to him and saw the perspiration on his face. He was too hot. She’d have to adjust the thermostat.
She went back out and stopped at Annie’s room. Her daughter had already fallen into her habit of cluttering her room with clothes and shoes and makeup, as if she’d waited a solid year to spread out again. Photographs of the children in León were already framed and placed around her room. Cathy stepped close to the bed, where Annie lay like the little girl she had once been, all innocent and sweet and full of life. She was still that girl, Cathy thought with gratitude. Annie was tangled in her covers, with something clutched in her hands. Cathy looked to see what it was.
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