by Kim Watters
Ethan and Tony brought in another stack of dishes from the other room and set them on the counter. How many more dishes were there? And they hadn’t even started on the pots and pans yet. Holly let out a groan, but she wouldn’t trade Thanksgiving at Kristen’s for anything. Now she knew how the turkey felt, though, before her friend had put it in the oven. Full didn’t even compute in her brain.
“Almost done in there?” Ethan grinned at her before he turned away and headed back out the door.
Why had the air just disappeared from her lungs?
“Really?” Kristen rinsed off another plate. “I see the way he looks at you. And I see the way you look at him.”
“We’re just friends,” Holly protested. Maybe a bit too much by the looks of things. Kristen’s eyebrows almost touched her bangs.
“Right.” A smile split Kristen’s face. “You’ve got it all wrong and you’re lying to yourself. I can see you’re interested. He’s a good man. I think you should give him a chance.”
Holly’s fingers tightened around the plate until her knuckles turned white. Anger, denial, fractured by her confused feelings about Ethan, punctured her thoughts. “I’m not interested in replacing Jared, Kristen, and you know that. He was the love of my life.”
Kristen sighed and grabbed the dish towel from the counter to dry her hands. Then she placed them on Holly’s shoulders and squeezed gently. A frown furrowed her brows and concern laced her voice. “Holly, I know this is hard, especially around the holidays, but Jared is dead. He’s not coming back and you know it. You’ve got to move on.”
“Is it time for dessert yet?” Kristen’s niece, Molly, stuck her head through the kitchen door.
Without missing a beat, Kristen grabbed a pitcher and handed it to the ten-year-old. “Not yet, but if you help us out, we may get done that much sooner and then it will be time. Why don’t you empty all the water glasses and then water my plants on the back porch? And when that’s done, we’ll be that much closer.”
Holly’s reprieve ended when the girl sped from the room, full pitcher in hand. Despite having eaten too much of Kristen’s good food, butterflies still managed to find room inside. She had to straighten out her friend once and for all. “Look. I know you mean well, but when I’m ready, you’ll be the first to know, okay?”
“You’re never going to be ready. I know you. Hiding away and sitting home alone, focusing on Cameron or work, isn’t the answer.”
“But I promised Jared that I would love him forever.”
As Kristen scrubbed at the large turkey pan, water sloshed out of the sink. “And you will. He was your husband and Cameron’s father. Did anything Pastor Matt say last Sunday sink in? Our physical hearts may not be that big, but God gave our emotional hearts enough room to love many times over. I love my children. I love Tony. I love my parents even though they drive me crazy most of the time. I love you like a sister, which is why I’m being so hard on you. God has given you the ability to love a lot. He’s given you room. It’s up to you to decide what to do with it. Live again, Holly. It’s what Jared would have wanted. If the roles had been reversed and you had died, wouldn’t you have wanted Jared to find happiness again?”
“But—”
Kristen held up a soapy hand. “Don’t answer. Just think about it.”
Holly fell silent. What could she say? Kristen didn’t understand. None of her friends did. They still had their spouses, their happily-ever-afters. They didn’t know the pain of waking up in an empty bed and reaching out to feel the warmth but only finding cold sheets. They hadn’t experienced the loneliness of not being able to share news of their day, the loss of security or the hardship of raising a child by themselves.
Looking out the window over the sink, Holly watched Ethan play football with a few of the other men and the teenage boys. Cameron’s face lit up with the attention. She swallowed and held back her tears. Her son deserved so much more than she could give him.
“Ethan’s a good man. Look at the way he interacts with Cameron and the other kids. Don’t you think God might be taking an active role in this by bringing two lonely people together? Things don’t happen by coincidence. There’s always a bigger plan. We might not understand it at the time, but eventually we will. On His time and terms.”
Finished with scrubbing the turkey pan, Kristen rinsed it and handed it to Holly to dry. “Hello? Anyone home? I know you’re here because I see you, but I don’t think you’re really here. You always seem to withdraw at the mention of God lately. He hasn’t forsaken you.”
“Some days it feels like He has.”
“He hasn’t.” Kristen pulled her hands from the soapy water and wiped them on her apron before she put her arms around Holly’s shoulders and squeezed. “As a parent you know you have to let your child or children live their own lives and learn from their mistakes as well as their triumphs. As our Heavenly Father, God allows us to do the same, but He is always there when we need Him. Now, back to Ethan. Take a good look at him and open your heart to the possibilities.”
Through misty eyes, Holly continued to stare out the window. Maybe Kristen was right. Maybe it was time to let go of her past and live again. And possibly love. In only a few years, Cameron would be grown and off to college and Holly would be by herself. Lonely and alone. Is that what she wanted? Yes—no—maybe not, but could she allow herself to open her heart again?
Chapter Eight
Ethan’s first Thanksgiving back on American soil was turning out to be a good one—aside from the mention of Afghanistan over dinner. Great food, great company, and his favorite football team had won by scoring a field goal in overtime. Kristen’s family had come up with solutions to some of his needs at the sanctuary, and something had shifted between him and Holly. God was on his team.
Winded from the physical activity of playing football with the guys, he leaned over, placed his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. He smiled at Holly as she looked at him through the kitchen window. Her serious expression put him on edge. He broke the contact and glanced in Cameron’s direction and saw her son approaching with a basketball. Everything was good there. A quick surveillance of the rest of the yard reassured him that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Something was wrong, but he had no clue as to its origins. Sometimes he just couldn’t figure women out.
“Can I ask you something, Mr. P.?” Cameron motioned him away from the other people in the backyard.
“Sure.” He glanced at the window again, but Holly had disappeared. Ethan righted himself and they headed toward the shed, where Tony had hung a basketball hoop.
Cameron took a shot, but the ball hit the backboard and dropped to the ground. Ethan retrieved the ball and bounced it between his two hands before he lobbed it into the air. The sensation felt strange at first, but he realized he didn’t need all his fingers to shoot a basket. The ball rimmed the hoop and dropped in.
Cameron retrieved the ball, took another shot and missed.
Ethan knew what he was going to do with the open spot next to the barn where the cement had already been laid. “Next time you’re at the farm, I’ll teach you how to shoot. I don’t think we have time today.”
Cameron missed another basket.
Ethan retrieved the ball again and lobbed it back to Cameron. “You’re not concentrating. What’s bugging you?”
“I don’t know.” He dribbled the ball with more force than necessary. “School. Everything. My mom.”
At the mention of Holly, the Thanksgiving meal became lead in his stomach. She had been rather distracted lately, and even today her attention had wandered during the meal. Her serious expression a few minutes ago bothered him more than it should. Was there something else wrong? “What’s up with your mom?”
“I know she’s lonely. She doesn’t laugh anymore, and all she does is work. I wish she’d be happy
again. Like she used to be.”
“What do you mean?” Ethan lunged for the ball before it slipped past him. Cameron’s aim needed work. This time, instead of giving the ball back to Holly’s son, he dribbled it himself, the steady beat keeping rhythm with his heart.
“She was always singing and laughing, and she told the most amazing jokes. She was always smiling and cooking and there for me—it’s just different now. I want my old mom back.”
“It can be tough. Losing someone you love can be very difficult, and everyone has a different grieving period. It takes longer for some than others.” The ball smacked against his palm until Ethan trapped it. He wasn’t in the mood to play basketball anymore and sensed the moment had passed for Cameron, too.
“But it’s been so long.” Cameron fisted his hands. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I exist anymore. That she doesn’t care.”
Ethan digested his words. “She loves you very much, Cameron. That’s why she works all the time. To make sure you have what you need. But I think there’s something else that’s bothering you. What is it? Maybe I can help.”
The boy kicked at some gravel littering the court. “I want another dad. Someone like you.” The color drained from the boy’s face. “I mean, I loved my real dad. Is it wrong that I want another one?”
Ethan’s heart contracted. If God had given him a son, he would have wanted him to be just like Cameron. While Ethan didn’t know what was in store for his future, he knew that somehow Cameron was involved. So were other boys at risk. He’d tucked away the idea of Pastor Matt’s Sunday sermon on hearts and loving for future reference but hadn’t thought he’d need it so soon. “I think God made our hearts so big so we could love lots of people that come in and out of our lives. Your dad will always have a special place there that no one can compete with, but there’s a lot more room.”
“Do you think my mom’s heart is big enough?”
Was it? Ethan had to choose his words carefully. He couldn’t speak for Holly. “I think your mom needs more time. When you love someone and have them taken away from you, there’s a healing process that needs to happen. She might not be ready yet.” Despite the late-afternoon sunshine, his day dimmed. Holly affected him more than he liked to admit.
“Will she ever be?”
“That’s up to her.”
Kristen rang the bell hanging from the back porch. “Dessert time. Last one in gets nothing but crust.”
“I’ll race you.” Cameron sprinted away before Ethan could react.
He let Holly’s son win, not because the boy was younger, but because Ethan was digesting the words he’d spoken to Cameron. He couldn’t deny any longer that he had feelings for Holly. He just hoped his advice worked not only on Cameron, but for himself, as well.
* * *
“Can you help me make something for my mom for Christmas?” Cameron turned away from Bear’s kennel after he finished feeding the dog the day after Thanksgiving.
“What did you have in mind?” The idea that Cameron had come to him for help lightened Ethan’s mood, yet concerned him because of the boy’s growing attachment. Despite the positive interest from Kristen’s family members and friends yesterday, another rejection for funds for the sanctuary had turned the promising day into one filled with more questions than answers. Sure, the check he’d already received was enough to complete the renovations on the barn and get the dog run ready, but he still needed food and supplies. The community was willing to chip in, but even their resources wouldn’t be enough in the long run.
Was he doing the right thing? He’d made a mistake in judgment before and it had cost five people their lives. He’d misjudged some of Cameron’s actions, like at the Fall Festival when he’d caught the boys smoking. Yet the boy had turned around, and something in Cameron’s eyes today made Ethan think that all was not lost. He had to let go of the past and remember that God was in charge and that things came about on His time, not Ethan’s. Things happened for a reason. Just the idea that he was brought into Cameron’s life when he seemed to need Ethan the most was something he couldn’t ignore.
“My dad had a shop in the shed behind our house. I used to go in there and watch him work sometimes. I want to use his tools to make something for her, but he always told me never to use any of them by myself. Obviously, I can’t ask my mom.”
Right. Jared had always talked about having his own woodworking shop one day, and he was glad that Cameron’s dad had made that dream come true before his untimely death. Jared would be happy to know that his son showed an interest in learning how to use his tools, and Holly shouldn’t mind because she hadn’t disposed of them, so she was probably saving them for Cameron when he got older. “Sure thing. How about if we do it on Saturday while your mom’s at the store?”
* * *
Holly heard the sound of power tools and voices coming from the large shed in her backyard when she stepped from her car. Not just any voices, but Ethan’s and Cameron’s. Normally she didn’t come home for lunch, but today she’d forgotten to bring the small gift for the baby shower that she was attending this afternoon, which left her no choice.
Awareness of where Ethan and her son were punched her in the stomach and left her nerves raw and exposed. Jared’s woodworking shop was inside. She hadn’t been in there since her husband’s death. She couldn’t face it. Her fingers clenched her purse strap and all moisture fled her mouth as she slowly crossed the yard. The open door beckoned, and drawn to it, she couldn’t refuse where her feet took her.
Guilt over the accident and the memories of Jared inside the shop were more than she could handle. Pain tore through her, ripping apart any thread of composure she had left.
Today of all days was the anniversary of Jared’s and Olivia’s deaths.
Tears poured down her face as her fingers gripped the threshold, the scent of cut wood filling her nose as she peeked inside. Nausea hit her hard. The aroma that she used to love made her tears flow faster. Through the haze, she spotted Cameron and Ethan bent over the workbench working on a cut piece of wood. She still couldn’t face it. “No.”
She barely heard her whisper or the guttural moan as she pushed herself away and stumbled backward. Her purse dropped to the ground right before her knees sank into the dead grass. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she curled up into a quivering mass of emotion. Her fingers squeezed her sides as if trying to release the blackness consuming her from the inside.
“Mom?” She heard Cam’s voice as if coming through a fog.
“Holly? What’s wrong?” Within seconds, Ethan was at her side.
“What are you doing in there?” Holly glanced up just in time to catch the stricken look on her son’s face. She tried to reach out but her arm dropped to her waist.
“We— Nothing.” Cameron shrank before her eyes. Her inability to control her fragile emotions had hurt her son. Moisture burned the back of her eyes again. The person she loved and who meant the whole world to her now had retreated back into the shed.
“Cam, wait.” Holly swatted at her tears, stood and stumbled after him. Once inside, she rubbed her eyes, trying to regain her composure. Her chin trembled as she inhaled a shaky breath and looked at her son standing behind the workbench where Jared used to make his masterpieces. How tall and proud he stood and seemingly so grown-up. She bit her bottom lip and tapped her hands against her mouth, fresh tears lingering in her eyes. Her pain refused to subside. Sawdust littered her son’s hair and stuck to his cheeks and chin. With a watery smile, she dusted them off as she used to do with Jared. The memory blazed another trail of tears down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I— It’s—just—this was your father’s place. I—I’m having a hard time, that’s all.”
Through a haze, her gaze swept across the small interior, and she remembered the love that Jared had put into making that space his refuge. Shelves lined the walls, the
cubbies and holders filled with every tool imaginable. He’d even built his own movable bases so that his saws and other necessary items could be positioned where he needed them. Countertops hid more drawers until every space in the area had been utilized to its fullest capacity.
“I used to love sitting in here with your father, watching him make his creations.”
“Mr. P. is helping me make something, but I can’t show you just yet.”
Jared had been the same way when he was making a gift for her. Like father, like son. Her lip trembled and her legs lost the ability to hold her weight. She collapsed onto the stool in the corner and buried her head in her hands. She knew she should have disposed of everything, yet she couldn’t. Not then, not now, even though the money she could sell it for would pay for quite a few things.
It would be like giving Jared up again.
Kristen was wrong. Pastor Matt was wrong. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t give up her dead husband like that and make room for someone else. Her heart wasn’t that big. She wouldn’t replace him despite her loneliness or any other emotion that snuck up on her.
She heard Ethan shift in the doorway. He’d only been trying to help her son, but he’d unknowingly entered a place that he didn’t belong. She couldn’t bear it. Not today. Not any day. She still felt Jared here as strongly as she did days before the accident. This spot was off-limits. It had to remain Jared’s. She glanced from her son to Ethan and then back. “I don’t want you in here, Cam. You, either, Ethan.”
“But, Mom.” Hurt and anger laced his expression. “You ruin everything.” Cam fled from the shed.
Holly stumbled from the stool and heard it clatter behind her. She tried to squeeze past Ethan, but he held her in place. “Holly, please. I’ll take the blame. I won’t come back in here, but don’t do this to Cameron. This was his father’s stuff. He should be using it. It’s what Jared would have wanted. Jared is dead. Despite how much you want it, or how much I want those five people in Afghanistan to come back, it’s not going to happen.”
