A Time to Surrender

by Sally John

  Max breathed heavily at her shoulder.

  “I learned this trick from your mom. I also learned”—she eyed him over the rim of her glasses—“that we go with the flow or forget about trying to run a retreat center.”

  “No whining?”

  “None.”

  “That was Danny on the phone.” Max had just been talking on the cordless outside. “He already picked Jenna up from the hospital.”

  “Really? Hallelujah! I still can’t believe she spent the night in a waiting room. How is she? How is Amber?”

  “No change in Amber. Jenna, he said, is wiped out.” Max kissed her cheek. “They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

  Claire laughed. “Then we’ll make French toast, too, her favorite. After breakfast, we’ll tuck her into bed and hide all the car keys. She needs to stay put for the weekend.”

  “I suppose God had a hand in this.”

  “You think?” she teased.

  “Yeah. We tell guests not to come. We tell our kids not to come and look what happens.” He sighed dramatically.

  “They didn’t make it happen.”

  “Doesn’t matter. They’re boomerangs. Won’t they ever move away and stay there?”

  “Oh, I hope not.”

  He chuckled with her. Their remarks echoed recent conversations they’d had about surrendering outdated parental roles. What did it look like to let their adult children go and yet . . . not let go of them? Where was the balance?

  He said, “’Tis a quandary for the ages.”

  Claire smiled and pulled two more eggs from the carton. A vague feeling of happiness tugged at her again. She’d been trying to tamp it down since the hospital visit last night because it seemed sort of demented. The truth was she was overly happy that Jenna needed them. But her poor baby needed them because she’d gotten hurt. Huh?

  She beat the eggs and sent Max to search the freezer for French bread.

  The vague happy feeling snowballed into an onslaught of pure delight. She giggled and sighed.

  Maybe she was just tickled because Jenna was joining them for breakfast. And Danny. And Lexi. Tuyen as well. Skylar too, even. What was Erik doing that morning? A truly grand time would be if he came and brought Rosie with him. And Nathan, Lexi’s friend, who already seemed part of the family, might get a ride with them . . .

  Claire smiled. When she told Max she hoped the “boomerangs” would never leave for good, she only half teased. Yes, the kids needed to spread their wings and fly, but the thing was, her mama’s heart sang whenever one of them paid a visit to the nest. Arias resounded if they stayed overnight. Entire operas poured forth if all of them were there together at the same time.

  An opera couldn’t be bad thing, could it?

  They sat around the kitchen table on chairs and the L-shaped bench seat. Jenna snuggled against Claire, Skylar against Indio. Max refilled coffee cups. Danny appeared tired. Ben was gregarious, Tuyen quiet but not withdrawn. No one moved yet to clear the breakfast clutter.

  Lexi was talking about Nathan. “Remember that follow-up article he wrote about the fire victims?”

  Max said, “When you two started dating?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled in a dreamy way.

  Claire smiled too. Little Alexis had blossomed into a lovely young woman, counting more battle wins than losses against an eating disorder, falling crazy in love with a wonderful young man, and thanking God for it all.

  “Well,” Lexi went on, “he’s doing another article about where we all are now, a year later. He’s coming up today so he can file it before the actual anniversary date next week. The article is basically done, but I’m taking him along the escape route, sort of for ambience. Not that it’ll be the same with the sun shining.” She wrinkled her nose, her only negative expression about that awful night of the fire. “Mom, you don’t have to come along, but you’re welcome to. Same for you, Nana. Papa.”

  Claire froze. Images of thick smoke filled her imagination. She could smell it. She could hear the roar of wind, the crackling rush of fire. Her heart pounded.

  Ben startled her with a chuckle. “Thanks but no thanks, Lexi. Being able to hike up that path a year ago was a miracle, thanks be to God. I see no reason to ask Him to perform it again.”

  Indio smiled. “Amen. That trek was indeed a supernatural event. The good Lord will have to do a powerful lot of talking to my heart to get these old bones moving like that again.”

  Max said, “Physical abilities aside, I don’t know that you’d all care to relive that night in other ways. Lexi, are you sure you want to?”

  “I do.” She nodded. “I’ve thought a lot about it. I am totally ready now.”

  “Must have something to do with The Guy tagging along?”

  “Dad.” Lexi blushed whenever her dad teased about Nathan.

  While everyone else laughed, Max locked his eyes with Claire’s.

  Her heart’s mad thump slowed. Hearing her family’s reaction to the thought of retracing that night’s steps calmed her. Hearing Lexi proclaim that she was ready to face that demon encouraged her tremendously.

  Claire had faced it some time ago, taking Max with her along the escape route. They’d driven through a large portion of the estate’s rough terrain, parked, and then hiked up what she would have deemed impassable rocky hills. She’d even crawled into the hole when she didn’t have to . . .

  Yes, she’d relived it with her guy beside her. She understood now that the Lord had been there, too, singing songs of deliverance over her the entire way. It was finished.

  Claire turned to Lexi. “I don’t think so, hon.”

  “Been there, done that?”

  “Yeah.”

  Lexi smiled. She knew her mom’s story.

  “I’m glad you’re ready.”

  “Me too, Mom.”

  Danny announced he wanted to go along. He invited Skylar, who perked up at his request. Tuyen wasn’t interested, but suggested they call Erik. Jenna, her eyes nearly shut, asked which room she could sleep in. Max declared he was back to Plan A, which included no hikes, no guests, no family. Claire hushed him with a fierce glare.

  Ben cleared his throat loudly. “While we’re announcing plans to revisit the past, I have one to add.”

  All eyes turned to him. Voices quieted. Ever since Beth Russell’s visit, Ben’s old compassionate, confident self had reemerged, a change welcomed by all.

  Ben sat up straight in his chair. “Tuyen and I are going to Vietnam.”

  Claire felt her eyes go wide.

  He said, “She’ll show me BJ’s grave. Where he lived. Where he died. We want to go as soon as possible.” He snapped his jaw shut.

  He had no more words, nor did anyone. Long, silent moments passed.

  Then Indio sighed, a sound of release.

  Everyone began to speak at once. Finally Max’s voice rose above the others.

  “Dad, you won’t hike your own back forty but you’ll fly halfway ’round the world and somehow get to some obscure village up in the mountains during monsoon season?”

  Ben stuck out his lower lip and nodded.

  “Then I’m going too.”

  Claire exclaimed. “What?”

  “Yep.” Max nodded, still looking at his dad. “We’ll go. We’ll take care of it once and for all.”

  Ben gave another nod, quick and final.

  Claire met Indio’s gaze. The black eyes were inscrutable.

  Her mother-in-law sighed again. “It’s a good plan. Necessary, like Lexi’s walk. If we don’t revisit the past that haunts us and banish it, its control over us will never end.”

  Claire shut her eyes and thought of that tandem bike ride with her wild mother-in-law. Indio wasn’t steering this situation, but she might as well have been. Her respected opinion powered up the pedaling and jerked the handlebar. Claire felt as if they’d just rounded a curve and hit a pothole at full speed. The impact threw her equilibrium completely out of whack. The wind whistled in her ears.


  She knew what Indio meant. Claire had revisited her own haunting memories, from the night of the fire to childhood traumas to emotional affairs with other men. She’d received forgiveness and healing through Christ.

  Now, if she understood Indio’s wink, Ben and Max were headed down that rewarding but most difficult of paths: surrendering. They had to let BJ go once and for all.

  Claire looked around the table. Her eyesight felt different. She saw all of them letting go . . . Jenna of the life she had wanted with Kevin. Skylar of whatever it was that kept her from settling down. Danny of his prejudices. And Lexi now, in trekking up to the gold mine, would let go of the terror from that night of the fire.

  Perhaps even she herself would do some surrendering. The thought of Max being gone triggered old resentments from his many absences through the years. Why not let them go?

  “Claire.” Indio smiled at her. “We just pray, dear.”

  Okay. The matriarch prayed. She would. Just at soon as she let go of her fear that Indio was passing the tandem’s handlebars to her.

  Thirty-three

  After the family breakfast, Jenna wanted to join Lexi’s hike with the others. She wanted to be excited for Papa’s travel plans. But wanting did not supply the necessary energy. She went to one of the Hideaway’s guest bedrooms and crawled between cool, crisp sheets.

  They were blue floral.

  They reminded her of the small room at the hospital.

  She kneaded the pillow beneath her head and looked up at oak beams across the ultrawhite plaster.

  They reminded her of Amber looking up at ugly, gray ceiling tiles. Not that she could see them. As of a few hours ago, her friend still lay in a coma at the hospital.

  Jenna rolled onto her side. Outdoors the sun shone, making for a miserably hot September day. The old hacienda room was comfortable, though. Its thick adobe walls and shuttered windows locked in the previous night’s cool. Mingled scents of wood furniture and lavender sachets added another layer of serenity.

  Nothing like the antiseptic odors at the hospital.

  The guest room was at the farthest end of the courtyard, away from the family commotion taking place in the kitchen. She would sleep.

  Just as soon as she forgot about the hospital with its gruesome odors and the blue floral print wallpaper . . .

  Had she really kissed him?

  Jenna shut her eyes, but the mental video recorded last night rolled on . . .

  After talking with Joey in the middle of the night, Jenna laid her head on Cade’s shoulder. She did not cry more. Her tears had been all used up, shed while on the phone first with Kevin, then with Joey. Nor did she sleep. Her earlier nap on the couch in the waiting room had taken the edge off her exhaustion.

  What she did was move into a new space. All defenses and pretenses fell away, leaving her more real than she’d ever been in her life. As she had told Kevin, it was time to admit and to accept their current situation.

  Like writing a grocery list, she listed the elements with a cold practicality.

  One, Kevin was overseas, fighting in a war.

  Two, she was on her own, teaching, and befriending Amber. At long last she was embracing her role as a Marine’s wife, which meant, basically, that she lived day in and day out inside an emotional combat zone.

  Three, people offered their appreciation, privately and publicly, for her and Kevin’s sacrifice. They honored them.

  And they exploded bombs near them. Both of them. At home and over there.

  Four, damage was done. Physical, mental, emotional. Untold. Irreparable. Collateral.

  Five, steps were taken to ease the pain. Stitches were made, comas induced, phone calls exchanged, rules broken, prayers offered, courage summoned, comfort sought.

  The list was finished, its elements admitted and accepted. She understood that she was a casualty of the emotional combat zone in which she lived.

  Coherent thought fled, taking with it the ability to step back and coldly assess the damage. Pain crashed through her, physical, mental, emotional.

  She could take meds for her arm and for her head. For that deeper, unfathomable hurt she could only turn intuitively to the comfort close at hand.

  She tilted her face up toward Cade, her mouth centimeters from his.

  “Jenna.” The dim lamplight cast shadows over his eyes, but his tone was clear. It cautioned.

  But she didn’t move.

  He waited.

  She waited.

  He lowered his face. His lips grazed hers.

  Her hurt began to ebb away.

  And then she kissed him back . . .

  The mental video ended.

  In the safe harbor of her parents’ home, Jenna rolled to her other side, angling her left arm so that it would not be squished underneath her.

  Yes, Cade had kissed her and she had kissed him back. For long, sweet moments, the intimate contact eased her deep ache.

  Now, in the light of day, she saw it as the result of a glitch in the system. When a happily married couple was torn apart and thrown into the chaos of war, one or both could quite easily turn for desperately needed comfort to another.

  Like Uncle BJ did in Vietnam. Away from his beloved Beth Russell, he turned to a woman who comforted him, the one who would in time give birth to Tuyen.

  Jenna thought her heart stopped right then and there.

  That which she so feared had become her reality.

  Of course Kevin could—if put into Uncle BJ’s position—respond the same way. Of course he could. Danny kept saying it would never happen. But it could.

  And of course she herself, surviving a bombing and watching over a comatose friend, could respond in the same way. Had responded in the same way.

  Similar way, she corrected herself. Similar. Not the same. A few kisses of comfort from Cade Edmunds did not signify a thing. The physicality was morally wrong, yes, but also the result of a glitch in an unfair system.

  It was, even, part of the whole abominable scene. She shuddered at the memory of the funeral, the explosion, Amber falling against her, both of them bleeding, the ambulance ride. The needles, the pills. Amber’s head swathed in white. Listening to men cry on the phone. Cade being there at that precise moment.

  Yes, Cade’s comfort was for the time of utmost anguish, a time that was past. She’d reached the other side of the glitch.

  Jenna succumbed at last to sleep.

  Thirty-four

  The pickup truck hit a rut at what would be considered full speed on a country highway.

  “Ouch!” Skylar clutched the side of the truck bed and bounced. Even with a thick layer of blankets beneath her, she felt every bone jarred loose.

  Danny’s arm rammed against hers. “Lexi always did have a lead foot. The story goes she almost outdrove the fire that night.” He half turned and banged on the back window. “Lex!” he shouted. “Slow down!”

  His sister and her friend Nathan rode inside the cab, Lexi at the wheel. They both looked over their shoulders at Danny and Skylar, cupping a hand at their ears as if they couldn’t hear.

  Danny turned back. “Two pods in a pea.”

  She raised her brows in question.

  “Lexi used to call us twins ‘two pods in a pea.’ I think the phrase applies to them now.”

  “You mean those moony, gooey-eyed lovey-doveys?”

  He grinned.

  Skylar couldn’t help but smile in return.

  Dog tired, guilt ridden, and spooked at the thought of her old acquaintance Fin being in the same city, she smiled. What was it about these crazy Beaumonts that got to her?

  Indio loved on her like she’d been hurt as badly as Jenna. Claire fed her and reiterated that she was not to cook or clean for others, no matter how many people showed up that weekend. Everyone accepted her at the breakfast table as if she were family. They talked freely in front of her about deep hurts and tragic events and their plans to address those things.

  Last night—

  No
. Smiling had nothing to do with last night and Danny’s holding her while she bawled. It had nothing to do with his concerned voice on the phone later when she had called him as promised after getting home. It had nothing to do with his invitation that she join them on this hike that began with a bumpy truck ride.

  For certain it had nothing to do with his dark eyes peering at her now from under the brim of his ball cap. Or the way his curls stuck out every which way. Or the mouth that really did have Wally Cleaver’s smile down to a T.

  He broke eye contact and looked toward the end of the truck bed. “We’ll be parking soon. The trail gets too steep and rocky for driving.”

  Skylar studied the rough terrain. Every shade of green vied with blacks and grays. New life was forging its way through death and destruction. But there was evidence of old-growth chaparral killed. Manzanita that looked from their breadth to be maybe a hundred years old lay broken. Thinking about the loss of vegetation and wildlife added weight to her heart already heavy with grief.

  “How did the fire start?” she asked.

  “Wind blew down a power line in an uninhabited area. Conditions were just right for one spark to take off before anyone spotted it. Actually it started several miles from here, going a different direction. Then the wind shifted.”

  “And Lexi, your mom, and grandparents were trapped?”

  “Yeah. Along with three firemen.” He looked at her again. “Let’s jump to the happy ending. They all got out safely.”

  “Where were you?

  “In some sort of limbo hell. There was no communication with them. Dad, Jenna, Kevin, Erik, and I got up as far as that lookout turnout along the highway. We could see entire mountains on fire.”

  “How awful! And they were out here, in the middle of the night, fire all around them, trying to escape?”

  “Yeah.”

  She shuddered involuntarily. “Why couldn’t they get out?”

  “There’s just the one road in and out, the driveway. The fire had circled around and felled trees across it. Hindsight says they should have left sooner, even though there was no direct threat.”

  “It could happen again.”

  “Sure. It’s happened often. The fires just never hit the house or barn. Papa grew up here, you know. He’s evacuated plenty of times. Nana, Dad, and Uncle BJ too. Based on past experience, Papa thought they were okay. I remember evacuating once when I was a kid staying up here for a couple weeks. We could hardly see the smoke, but Papa said he knew best.” Danny smiled wryly. “It’s one of the perks of living surrounded by all this peace and beauty.”