A Time to Dance/A Time to Embrace

by Karen Kingsbury

  Tara could think of a hundred things she’d wanted to tell him. When the phone call came from the police department telling her they’d arrested Jake for felony vehicular assault and that he’d been racing at the time of the accident, she wished they’d arrest Tim, too. Hadn’t she told him? Hadn’t she warned them both that a car that fast was dangerous for a teenage boy? Just like she’d told Tim their marriage was worth fighting for, that by leaving for New Jersey he’d only lose everything that mattered most: the love they once shared, the son they’d raised, and the closeness in faith that had once been so important to them.

  She’d been right then, and she was right now.

  But when Tim approached her, his face a mask of agony and regret, it didn’t matter that she was right or that Tim was wrong. All that mattered was their son had nearly killed someone, possibly paralyzed him. And life would never be the same again.

  It was hardly the time to point fingers. In all the world at that moment, only one other person could understand the pain of what Tara Daniels was going through. And that person was the man standing before her. A man she still loved, even if it had been years since she’d liked him.

  “Tim . . .” She held out her arms, and he came to her, slowly, like a man stretching out his dying moments. His arms came around her waist, and hers moved around his neck. There—amid meandering petty criminals and empty-eyed drifters, with an assorted number of officers and jail clerks going about their business—Tara and Tim did something they hadn’t done in years.

  They held tight to each other and cried.

  Fifteen

  THE SWELLING ALONG JOHN’S SPINE STARTED TO RECEDE two days later.

  His doctor explained that until the swelling went down, it was impossible to know if John’s paralysis was permanent. So far, John was unaware of the possibility. Though he’d had visitors streaming in and out of his room around the clock since Saturday, he was mostly sedated. Too much awake time meant too much movement, and that could interfere with the respirator and trachea tube.

  It was early Monday afternoon, and Nicole and Abby were alone in a quiet alcove at the back of the waiting room. John was napping, so they’d planned to catch some sleep themselves. Instead they sat together, exhausted but wide awake, staring out the hospital window at the changing leaves in the trees that lined the parking lot.

  They hadn’t been there ten minutes when Dr. Robert Furin appeared. Abby and Nicole sat up straighter. Abby’s heart soared within her. The doctor’s smile could only mean one thing. John had moved his feet!

  She felt the corners of her mouth lift some, despite the exhaustion that hung on her like double gravity. “He’s got movement in his legs?”

  “Uh . . .” The doctor’s expression shifted. “No, Mrs. Reynolds. We’re still waiting to determine that. Could be sometime in the next hour.” He tapped the side of his pen against his pant leg. “I do have good news, though.”

  Beside her, Abby felt Nicole’s body react to the letdown. She must have been thinking the same thing about John’s legs. “Okay. We could use some.”

  “It looks like the trachea wasn’t severed like we thought originally. We were able to get a better picture this morning, and it seems to be intact. That happens sometimes when a person receives a severe blow to the throat.” The doctor paused. “The good news is we can take him off the respirator. In fact, they’re doing that right now. So the next time you see him he should be able to talk.” He shook his head. “It’s a miracle really. Anyone hit by a car traveling that fast shouldn’t be alive.”

  Abby was glad for the good news. It wasn’t what she’d been hoping to hear, but the doctor was right. God had delivered John from what otherwise might have been certain death. They had much to be thankful for.

  “When will we know about his legs?”

  “We’re taking him in for more X rays before the sedatives wear off.” The doctor gave a single shake of his head. “I’d say we should know something within the hour.”

  Within the hour.

  News that would alter their lives one way or the other would come like every other piece of information that had shattered their existence these past few days. By a single sentence, delivered as a matter of fact.

  “Thank you, doctor.” Abby smiled, but the action felt odd. “We’ll be here. Please let us know as soon as you have any information.”

  Nicole was quiet until the doctor left. “Did you bring the article?”

  “Yes. I’m not sure when I’ll show him, but at some point he’ll want to know.”

  Matt had brought the newspaper yesterday morning and showed them the story. It had a photograph of John’s truck, but not a bit of it was recognizable. Abby had covered her mouth with her hands when she saw it.

  The doctor was right. Truly, it was a miracle John was alive.

  The article said two teenagers had been arrested for street racing, including one who hit John’s car as he pulled out of the high-school parking lot. That information hadn’t come as a shock to Abby. She’d heard from the beginning that John had been the victim of an illegal street race. It was the names of the teenagers that took her breath away.

  Jake Daniels and Casey Parker.

  John’s quarterbacks. Good kids who had made a series of poor choices and would pay the price for the rest of their lives. According to the article, Casey was being charged with reckless driving, participation in an illegal street race, and being an accomplice to vehicular assault. He had been released on his own recognizance and was expected to plead guilty to several of the charges at a hearing sometime in the next month.

  Jake’s charges were far more serious.

  First, the district attorney’s office was determined to try him as an adult. If they succeeded—and chances were strong that they would— Jake would most likely wind up with a jury trial facing a handful of charges, including felony assault with a deadly weapon. The combination of crimes could send Jake to the state penitentiary for as many as ten years.

  “This town is tired of illegal street races,” the district attorney was quoted as saying. “If the people choose to make an example out of this young man, he could receive the maximum sentence.”

  Another quote came from Jake’s mother, Tara, who apparently was holding vigil for her son at the county jail. “Jake is horrified at what’s happened. He’s ready to accept any punishment given him.” The article went on to say that Mrs. Daniels hoped the district attorney’s office would be lenient with her son since he had no prior record.

  Abby didn’t know what to think about that. If the driver of the speeding car had been a different teenager, one she didn’t know, Abby could’ve ridden the district attorney’s bandwagon, hoping for the toughest penalty ever.

  But . . . Jake Daniels?

  The kid had eaten dinner at their house a dozen times, swam in their lake, and jumped off their pier. How could she hope for a boy like Jake to spend the next decade of his life in prison? Abby couldn’t picture him spending ten days there, let alone ten years.

  She glanced at Nicole. “Have you thought about Jake’s mother? How awful she must feel?”

  “She wants leniency for her son.” Nicole crossed her arms. “That’s the only part that stands out in my mind.”

  The bitterness in Nicole’s voice broke Abby’s heart. Nicole was never bitter, never jaded. All her life Nicole had been the first one to pray about a situation, the one who always had a bit of wisdom or Scripture or hope for a person in need.

  Bitterness did not become her.

  “Jake’s a nice boy, Nic.”

  Her daughter said nothing, and Abby let it go. She couldn’t imagine how awful the ordeal had to be from Jake’s mother’s perspective. How strange it was that just a few weeks ago, Abby and Tara Daniels had been talking about the very car that had nearly killed John.

  “What was Tim thinking, giving Jake a car like that?” Tara had said. “Do you know what that thing cost? Nearly forty thousand dollars. That’s outrageous! He could
have bought him four years of college for that. And all it does is tempt a kid like Jake to do something wrong.”

  Prophetic words, indeed. Jake, who had only recently made the decision to spend less time with the likes of Casey Parker . . . who had stopped teasing the Nathan Pikes at Marion High and started talking more frequently with John about his future. Jake, who might have earned a college scholarship in football . . . had made a decision that had altered all their lives. Forever.

  Rather than be there to love and support Tara in her most dire hour, Abby was living a nightmare of her own, and reading the details of the story from the newspaper, just like everyone else in Marion.

  Beneath a smaller headline at the back of the paper was a brief article about the bomb threat at Marion High. It mentioned that a student had been questioned after the football game and released to his parents.

  Abby clipped the article about the accident, folded it, and stuck it in her purse. One day soon, John would want to see it. So far, they’d had no discussions about the accident because John couldn’t talk. Now that the tubes were coming out of his throat, he would have questions.

  Abby prayed he would survive her answers.

  Nicole turned to her, her body tense. “Can I talk to you about something? Not about the accident, but something else?”

  “Sure.” Abby reached over and took Nicole’s hand. “What’s on your mind?”

  There were delicate lines on Nicole’s forehead. Abby could feel her daughter’s tension as strongly as if it were her own. “It’s about the baby.”

  “Everything’s okay, right?”

  Nicole nodded. “It’s just . . . well, I wanted to tell you I was pregnant a few weeks ago, but I couldn’t.” She hesitated and her eyes lifted to Abby’s. “I wasn’t happy about it at first.”

  Poor Nicole. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about with John’s condition, she had her own to consider as well. “That’s very normal, sweetheart.” Abby shifted so she faced Nicole. “Especially when you weren’t planning on having babies for another few years.”

  “Four years.”

  “Right.” Abby waited, giving her daughter time to voice her thoughts.

  “I love children; it isn’t that.” Nicole’s face mirrored the struggle going on within her. “It’s just . . . I didn’t want them to come between me and Matt.” She stopped. “The way I came between you and Dad.”

  Abby sat back a little. What in the world was Nicole talking about? “Honey, you never came between your dad and me.”

  Nicole blew at a wisp of her bangs and leaned back against the vinyl hospital sofa. “Yes, I did. You might not see it that way, but it’s true. That’s why . . . why your marriage hasn’t always been what it could be.”

  “Nic, that’s not—” Abby couldn’t put her thoughts into words. Obviously her daughter was more aware of what had almost happened last year than Abby gave her credit for. But what was Nicole thinking? Their struggles had never had anything to do with the children.

  “Mom, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s been stuck in my head since Matt and I got married. I’ve always wanted to believe you and Dad had the best relationship in the world. But last year there were lots of times I knew that wasn’t true. Sure, I say you look like newlyweds, but that’s only because it’s what I want to believe.” She spread her fingers across her chest. “Deep inside I know you guys aren’t always happy.

  And I think it must be because you never had those years alone together. Without kids.”

  A small laugh slipped from Abby’s throat, and she covered her mouth. Nicole was perceptive, but her reasoning was completely wrong. So wrong it was almost funny.

  “Mom—” Nicole lowered her brow—“how can you laugh?”

  “Honey, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just . . . that wasn’t the problem with your dad and me. Not at all.”

  Nicole was quiet for a moment. “Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve been scared to death. Deep inside. Because there hasn’t been enough time for Matt and me to bond, to build the kind of marriage that will last.”

  “Oh, Nic.” Abby slipped her arms around Nicole’s neck and hugged her. “Having children will only strengthen what you and Matt share. It did for your dad and me.”

  Nicole drew back and her eyes met Abby’s. “Then what happened? I know you and Dad have struggled. You try to hide it, but sometimes it’s obvious.”

  “Have you noticed any problems lately? Say, since your wedding?”

  “Since my wedding?” Nicole worked free of Abby’s embrace and stared out the full-length window. “I guess not.” She spun around. “How come?”

  Abby stood and joined Nicole near the window. What exactly should she tell this precious daughter? How much should she say? “Because having you nine months into our marriage was never the cause of our problems.”

  “What was?”

  “In a nutshell, we forgot to dance.”

  Nicole squinted. “Meaning what?”

  A tired laugh slipped from Abby’s throat. “Meaning ever since your dad and I moved to the house we live in, we would go out back and dance on the pier. Not real dancing. Just a sort of swaying back and forth, listening to the sounds around us and remembering what was important.”

  “Really?”

  “Mmmhm.” Abby felt a lump in her throat. Had they shared their last dance? Was John really lying in a hospital room down the hall paralyzed? She banished the thoughts and found her voice again. “We . . . we would talk about you and your brothers, about the good and bad times with your dad’s job as coach, about the victories and tragedies life dealt us over the years.”

  “Did you talk about Haley Ann?”

  “Always.” The lightness was gone from Abby’s voice. “But about three years ago we stopped meeting out there, stopped taking time to talk about life and our place together in it.”

  “Was that when Dad started being friends with Ms. Denton?”

  Abby nodded. “He wasn’t the only one making mistakes, though. I spent more time talking with an editor friend of mine than with your dad. That didn’t help. Pretty soon we felt like strangers.”

  “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

  “It was worse.” Abby paused. If she told Nicole the whole story now, she might forever be jaded toward their marriage. But if she didn’t, Nicole might not grow.

  “You never considered . . .” Nicole’s voice faded.

  “We did. Last year in fact.” Abby stared out the window. A pair of birds were sitting in the tree outside. “Remember the day you and Matt announced your engagement?”

  “Yes.” Nicole let her head fall back a bit. “We were supposed to have a family meeting, but Matt showed up and we surprised everyone.”

  “Us, most of all.” Abby turned and met Nicole’s eyes. “We had picked that day to tell you kids it was over. We were going to get a divorce.”

  “Mom!” Nicole backed up a step, her eyes wide. “No way!”

  “It’s true. When you made your announcement, your dad and I met in the kitchen and decided we had to wait. We couldn’t go through with it until you were back from your honeymoon.”

  Nicole grabbed her head and took slow steps back to the sofa. “It all makes sense now.”

  “What?” Abby turned and leaned against the window.

  “Every time I prayed, no matter what I was praying about, you and Dad were on my heart. I told Matt about it. He thought it was probably because you guys were under a lot of stress what with us getting married.” Nicole uttered a sad chuckle. “I always thought it was something bigger. But not this big.”

  “We were at the end of our rope, Nicole. All I can tell you is we felt your prayers.”

  “So you mean, when Grandpa was dying that day and we were all gathered around his hospital bed . . . you and Daddy were planning to divorce?”

  Abby nodded.

  “That’s unbelievable. I had no idea.” A sudden look of alarm filled Nicole’s features. “Did Daddy have an
affair?”

  For months she had worked to keep this information from Nicole and the boys. Now . . . now she knew that hiding the truth had been wrong. God . . . You want her to know, don’t You?

  The truth will set you free . . .

  Abby let the verse roll around in the basement of her heart. Of course! The truth wouldn’t only set Abby free . . . it would set Nicole free, as well. After all, Nicole was a married woman. She might have to face something similar herself one day. It was crucial that she see the truth here—that any marriage could be saved so long as both people were willing to hear God’s voice above their own.

  She drew a calming breath. God, help me say this so she can understand . . . “He came close. We both did.”

  Nicole stood and paced to the window and back. “I don’t believe it.” She stopped in midstep, her voice angry. “What happened? How come you never made the announcement?”

  “The night of your wedding . . . Dad had his things packed. He was going to move in with a friend after you and Matt took off for your honeymoon.”

  “Ms. Denton?” Nicole’s cheeks were pale, the dark circles under her eyes more pronounced.

  “No, nothing like that. By then Ms. Denton had moved away. Her friendship with your father was over.”

  “Then who?”

  “A divorced man, a teacher from the school.”

  “That’s terrible.” Nicole sank back onto the sofa once more. “So what happened?”

  “Sean and Kade went to friends’ houses, and after you left, your dad did, too. Or he started to. He got halfway down the road before he turned around and came back. God wouldn’t let him leave.”

  “What about you?” There were doubts in Nicole’s tone, but she looked less panicked than before.

  “I was angry and upset. Devastated, really. But too stubborn to stop him from leaving. I went upstairs and slipped on one of his sweatshirts. When I did, I found his journal.” Abby could still picture the moment as clearly as if it had just happened. “I didn’t even know he kept a journal until then.”

  “What’d it say?”

  “It talked about how sorry your father was for letting our marriage grow cold, how wrong he’d been to befriend Ms. Denton. How badly he wished things would work with me, but how certain he was that I’d never be willing to try again.”