A Time to Surrender

by Sally John

  It was the only time she’d gone on what he and his group called “missions.” It was to have been her ticket to be his number one, his “moll.”

  Until she saw the night lit up with explosives and walls tumble down . . .

  Claire said, “Max told this man that you intend to plead guilty. He agreed to take your case.”

  “Oh, Claire. Max hired him already?”

  “Yes.”

  She pressed her palms against her eyes. “You all do too much for me.”

  Indio said, “This is what family is supposed to do. Deal with it.”

  Skylar moved her hands. “Deal with it?”

  “You heard me.” Indio giggled.

  It was a catchy sound. Skylar and Claire joined in, releasing tears of silliness.

  Claire waited in the parking lot, holding a shawl tightly about herself. The sun had set. It was Thursday evening, the first week in November. With rainy, cooler weather and Thanksgiving on the horizon, guests’ reservations had dwindled to one weekend for the month, a welcome respite considering the present upheaval.

  She watched the headlights of Danny’s truck approach and prayed for him and Skylar. He planned to talk with Skylar. Claire wished she could be a mouse beneath a chair as they spoke. She prayed for herself too.

  She’d feared Danny’s increasingly black-and-white attitude toward his faith would lead to his undoing. Either he’d turn into a wholehearted legalist or experience a major meltdown. She should be happy for the latter. It held promise of a rebuilding.

  Danny parked and climbed out. “Mom. You cutting me off at the pass?”

  “If that smart tone of yours continues, you can get right back in—” She closed her mouth. He was doing it, goading her, and she was falling for it. “Let me start over. Hi.”

  “Hi. I’m sorry. I’m on edge.”

  “We all are.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk a minute, before you go in to see Skylar.”

  “I don’t want to hear excuses for her.”

  “Danny, for goodness’ sake! Let me finish one thought, please!”

  He folded his arms, leaned back against the truck, and crossed one ankle over the other.

  She watched him for a moment to see if he’d stay put. Except for the jiggling of his top foot, he seemed still. “I’m glad you called to say you were coming up. I’m glad you’re going to address things with Skylar.”

  He gave a slight nod.

  “But it’s none of my business.”

  His foot stopped moving.

  “When your dad and I moved up here, and then Lexi and Tuyen soon followed, I really hoped that somehow you and Jenna and Erik would fit into life here too. He was in rehab; he needed a safe place to start over. Jenna had been so lonely without Kevin. You could do your work from anywhere. We could all live here. Why not? It’s a huge place, especially with the new bungalow and the mobile unit. We could make it work.”

  “The ocean is—”

  “Shh.” She scowled briefly. “It was my mama’s heart yearning to be near my babies. It didn’t matter how old you all are or if one of you needs to surf every day. The point is that’s how I felt. Irrational? Totally.”

  She shoved her hands into the pockets of her cardigan and looked around. A few stars twinkled in the darkening sky. The scents of pine and mesquite and cooling earth filled her. Floodlights bathed the sign, Hacienda Hideaway ~ A Place of Retreat.

  She fiddled with a key in her pocket. “I heard a sermon. I tried to ignore it, but you know how that goes.” She smiled. “The part I didn’t want to remember had to do with a mother and a son and a wild man. The wild man is locked up in a cage, the son is intrigued by him, the mother keeps the key to the cage under her pillow. It’s time for the boy to go off with the wild man and learn the mysteries of manhood. Will he have to steal the key, or will his mother give it to him?”

  Danny gazed at her, his face in shadows. “You haven’t held me back.”

  “I have.” Her laugh was uneven. “I just told you I wanted you to live here with us. I’ve also worried that you would fall in love with Skylar and she would break your heart. So here.” She pulled the key from her pocket and placed it in his hand. “I officially give you the key. Unlock the cage and go with the wild man.”

  He didn’t move.

  “I said go.”

  “What’s the key really to?”

  “I think a padlock on the barn. The fire burned the lock. Papa had an extra key.”

  He smiled, leaned over, and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Lord, I release him. Will You be his wild man?

  Sixty

  Skylar paced in front of the sala’s large stone fireplace. Huge logs burned brightly behind the screen, warming the room.

  She paced because Danny was on his way to see her.

  How often he had come under the guise of helping around the hacienda. His visits had increased in the three months since she arrived at the hacienda, but he never admitted to coming specifically to see her. She was sort of like the “oh, by the way” room. Oh, by the way, Skylar’s here. They might as well hike or ride the horses or talk into the wee hours by the fountain or kiss under the stars.

  He had held back, always keeping a part of himself closed off.

  As he should have. She’d warned him he did not know her. Well, now he did. And now he was coming specifically to see her.

  “Lord, have mercy on me a sinner,” she murmured the prayer Indio had taught her to say when she had no words of her own. When the fears and doubts overwhelmed, she was to speak simply to God, acknowledging His presence and her need of His mercy.

  What else was there?

  Skylar shortened the prayer, stringing the words together. “Lordhavemercy.”

  One of the heavy doors was opening. Skylar stopped midstride. Her heart thumped in her throat. She did not expect a smile or a hug from the guy whose smiles and hugs had become her greatest source of hope.

  Indio’s voice played in her mind. They had talked about her feelings toward Danny. “Dear, you know that God is your greatest source of hope, not Danny. My grandson is a hottie and what feels like hope is simply your drooling over him.”

  Skylar had nearly rolled on the floor in laughter over that one. Indio was a hoot, even more so since the truth had come out. She and Claire had been, if anything, even freer in expressing their love for Skylar. They held nothing back. They were Christ’s hands and speech to her. They were the ones she should look toward, not the grim, uptight Danny walking through the door.

  Evidently he’d lost Wally Cleaver somewhere on the trip up.

  “Hi,” she said, cringing inside at the hesitancy in her voice.

  He shut the door and turned back around. “Hi.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He held up a hand. “Let’s settle this one point. I heard you the first time on the phone Sunday morning. You don’t have to say it again.”

  Skylar bristled. “I just want that to be the premise of this conversation.”

  “Duly noted.” He walked toward the fireplace, not looking at her.

  That confirmed that no hug would accompany the no smile. She strode to the table, poured two mugs of tea from a pot, and carried them to where he sat.

  He accepted one from her. “Thanks.”

  She sat opposite him, in the other wingback chair in front of the fire. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I figured we—I—uh.” He cleared his throat. “Closure was needed.”

  Her stomach tightened. The finality of the word scared her. “Maybe some venting too.”

  He thrust out his lower lip and shook his head. “Hawk got that part.”

  “Lucky Hawk.” She paused. “It’d help me if you vented.”

  “It’d help me if you’d been truthful.”

  “I told you that you didn’t know me and you said you didn’t give a rip. What was it? ‘We are the sum of our past, mistakes and all. The sum that I’ve experienced in you is one that I care
for deeply.’ What was that? Hot air from the heat of a lustful moment?”

  “I could not imagine . . .” He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re going to prison.”

  “What did you expect, Danny? The usual? Sex, booze, and drugs? Would that have been acceptable to you? Sorry to be such a disappointment.” She pressed her lips together, her outburst ricocheting in her chest.

  He gazed at the fire, not saying anything.

  “What do you need for closure?” she asked.

  “Remember I mentioned to you about some old friends who influenced my judgment of you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There was a little more to it than that.” His eyes flicked in her direction. “Faith Simmons and I were close from kindergarten through high school into college. I mean, we were tight, totally connected on everything. We even went to church together and youth Bible studies. I kept thinking it was purely platonic. She dated others. I dated others. I loved her, though, but I couldn’t admit that even to myself until a few weeks ago.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She went flako. We were both just this side of alternative, you know? Music, movies, protests, et cetera, et cetera. Christians, but refused to limit Jesus. We explored His radical side and tried to put that into a contemporary setting.” He shrugged. “She dropped out altogether, rejected everything that hinted at God. Dyed her hair, then just shaved it off. Pierced so many body parts she looked like a cheese grater.” He paused. “Changed her name.”

  Skylar didn’t know what to say.

  “Sometimes I wondered if I was pressing in with you because I never took the chance with her. The resemblance was uncanny. Was I loving you or her? Or do I just have a thing for hurting females who are way out there?”

  Now he was doubting that he cared for her at all? Lordhavemercy. “Why did she change so drastically?”

  “Her father was a tyrant. I suspect more was going on than anyone knew. She had to break away. Why did you break away?”

  Her memories were like wisps of smoke from fires she had not fanned in many years. She almost believed her mother was a dead drug addict buried in Ohio and that she did not know who her father was.

  “My brother and sister seemed to have turned out fine. They’re regular-type citizens.” She shrugged. “I was the third, the unwanted runt. Ugly as all get-out. Uncoordinated. Sick all the time. Thumb-sucker and bed wetter until I was seven. We had money. We traveled. One time we were here in San Diego, at the zoo. I was eight. I got lost. They didn’t miss me until they were back at the hotel. It was dark by then.” She shook her head, shoving similar memories away. “My parents were ex–flower children. They gave up the VW bus but not the pot. They were glad to see me go off to college at eighteen and never come back. I only checked in with them now and then so they didn’t report me as missing and sic the cops on me. Waste of a calling card, I’m sure.” She wiped roughly at the tears on her face. “Sad enough for you?”

  He rubbed his temple. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. No excuse—”

  “It is. It is an excuse. Not for your choices, but for having been dealt nothing but junk.” He sounded angry. “The cards were stacked against you from the get-go. It wasn’t right or natural, Skylar. You can’t let your parents off the hook. Don’t wallow in the past, but go ahead and blame them for the beatings they inflicted on your psyche.”

  “Shouldn’t I forgive them?”

  “Of course. Forgive them and whoever hurt them. Just stop letting the past define you.” He exhaled loudly, as if he’d run out of steam.

  The moments passed. Danny stood abruptly and threw logs into the fireplace. They thumped loudly, sparks flew. He jammed the poker against the logs. The fire hissed and popped.

  Skylar wiped her nose and gulped tea. She hadn’t even told Indio or Claire the details she’d just revealed to him. He drew from her deep heart.

  “Danny, I started praying in Illinois.”

  He sat back down, his face red.

  “And I know God heard me.” She tried to smile. “You’d get religion too if you were in my shoes.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “You helped me see myself as someone He could really love. Thank you.”

  “He loves everyone. I’ve always believed that.”

  “And He forgives everyone and asks us to do the same.” She leaned forward. “Will you forgive me?”

  “I forgive you.”

  She shut her eyes. Thank You, God.

  “Those are easy words for me to say. Maybe too easy. Too automatic.”

  She looked at him. “I’m not asking for anything more. The FBI could show up here at any minute and whisk me off to San Francisco. Then they’ll lock me up for a long time. That doesn’t leave much space for a relationship.”

  “Thanks for letting me off the hook.” Sarcasm laced his tone. “The truth is we both botched this from the beginning. We both pretended you were someone you weren’t. So.” He stood. “I plan to split too.”

  “What?”

  “Out of the country. Maybe I’ll surf my way around the world. Ireland. Portugal. Australia. I might even stop off in Baghdad and see old Kev.”

  Skylar couldn’t move. He was leaving his family? Work and friends? Her, for sure. She didn’t realize she was clinging to a slender thread of hope until just now. It snapped almost audibly. The falling sensation was so real she clutched the arm of the chair.

  He said, “I don’t exactly know how to say good-bye.”

  “Just go.” She was about to lose it, but refused to do it in front of him again.

  He held out his hand to shake hers.

  “I said just go, Danny. Just get out of my sight.”

  “Yeah.” He looked at her for a moment, turned, and left the room.

  Skylar’s angels found her, a messy heap on the braided rug in front of the hearth.

  “Oh, child.” Indio patted her back.

  Claire helped her stand. “Let’s sit on the couch. Nana’s knees aren’t up for the floor tonight.”

  She sat squished between them, held upright by their shoulders. She laid her head on Claire’s shoulder. Indio held her hand.

  “He’s so hurt,” Skylar sobbed.

  Claire dabbed tissues on her face.

  “I’m so sorry I hurt your son.” She tilted her head to see Indio. “Your grandson.”

  “Well,” Indio said, “it was bound to happen. Better by someone we love than some hussy.”

  Claire said, “His faith has mirrored Indio’s since he was a little kid. But somewhere along the way this dogmatic streak got hold of him. When Max and I had marital struggles, he practically disowned us. ‘Under no circumstances do Christians couples separate’ was his thinking.” Her sigh conveyed sorrow and resolve. “His inability to see grays was bound to undo him, but he has to work it out for himself. He’s so much like my brother. He’s not going to Alaska, is he?”

  Skylar shook her head. “Australia.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  Indio said, “He’ll be all right. God’s not going to let him out of His sight.”

  “Can we pray for him?” Through her tears she saw the two staring at her in surprise. “What?”

  Indio looked at Claire. “I told you. She’s growing by leaps and bounds.”

  Claire smiled. “And how do we pray for you, honey?”

  Skylar hesitated. Danny’s admonition had made it clear what she needed, but she didn’t want to go there. She really didn’t want to go there.

  But . . . of course she had to.

  “Danny said I need to forgive my parents for how they hurt me.”

  Indio nodded and stroked her hand. “Danny understands.”

  Claire hummed softly for a moment. Max had apologized to all four of their adult children for being an absentee father. “Parents can send signals to our hearts that name us in ways God never intended. When we forgive them, our hearts can heal. God can then plant His own signal in us. We can rec
eive our true name from Him.”

  Did that mean her true name was not ‘unwanted runt’? “What’s mine?”

  “Precious, cherished daughter of the heavenly Father.”

  Skylar closed her eyes. How she longed to hear those words spoken in her heart!

  Claire and Indio prayed—for Danny . . . for her. And she knew they carried her to the throne.

  Sixty-one

  The computer screen shone brightly in the dark room. It displayed Monday flights to Australia. Under that window were others: client-related files, Ro-Bo Shop spreadsheets, bank accounts, and unfinished e-mails. The clock in the low corner read 2:21.

  Danny had always been able to juggle countless thoughts and tasks simultaneously. A spur-of-the-moment checking out of life, however, was proving to be freaking impossible.

  It was the emotions. An avalanche of feeling buried any clear-cut order.

  All he had to do was click the “Buy now” icon, pack a pair of jeans, wetsuit, and board, hand off work details. He had enough money. He had a passport.

  Laue, the young guy he mentored, had been chomping at the bit to take on more. He even had a rapport with clients. As far as the shop went, Hawk ran it by himself with a few hired college kids. Tuyen no longer needed his computer lessons; she had a job in Santa Reina.

  So why did he hesitate?

  He needed to talk to someone.

  His roommate, Hawk, would laugh and say, “Welcome to the club, dude.” The guy was head-over-heels with Tuyen, a match Danny still couldn’t fathom.

  Erik? Ditto. There was a sense of permanency about him and Rosie.

  His dad? His hero, the guy he wanted to be a clone of? He’d sold his business last year to make hot chocolate with his wife for retreat guests.

  His pastor? He’d point him to God.

  Danny knew only one person who could hear him, give him new eyes, and make him laugh at himself.

  But she was going to prison.

  He clicked the icon.

  Sixty-two

  Speechless, Jenna listened to Danny on the phone. He was leaving the next day for Australia?