Hearts Renewed

by Mary Manners

  So she’d let God take care of this entire situation with Sam that she’d gotten herself into. After all, He’d taken care every messy fiber of her life, hadn’t he?

  Izzy sighed and stiffened her spine as she secured the car and then crossed toward the field with arms loaded.

  She made it only a few steps before Sam was at her side.

  “Let me take that.” He gathered the cooler of drinks and a bag of fruit snacks from her arms.

  “Thanks.” Izzy’s shoulders ached, and she was thankful for the help. She’d had another long day at the station, and had barely made it on time to pick up Tucker and swing by the store for the snacks before heading this way.

  “You’re welcome.” Over the load, Sam grinned at her. He winked. “Hi there, Izzy.”

  In a flash, Saturday evening came crashing back. Izzy cringed inside. She’d acted like a fool, second-guessing Sam’s every move and intention. She was comfortable in the driver’s seat, but somehow Sam had taken the wheel from her. He’d done a mighty fine job navigating the stretch of difficult road between them, taking Izzy off-guard. She had expected an evening filled with clipped words punctuated by a variety of grimaces. What he’d given her was engaging conversation, laughter.

  Joy.

  And instead of returning the kindness, she’d thrown a heaping dose of cynicism in his face.

  He had every right to consider her half-baked, but he didn’t seem deterred by her behavior.

  Or her questions.

  Izzy comforted herself with the thought that, if she revealed her history to him, there was a good chance he’d understand.

  There was just as strong a chance that he’d run away as fast as his legs would carry him.

  Which proved exactly why she had no plans to share such history.

  So why were they here together? She believed there was a reason. She’d started out with a plan to help Sam understand forgiveness. That was all. Nothing personal. But that plan had fizzled the moment she’d laid eyes on him last Saturday night.

  In his suit. Looking more handsome than a man had a right to be. Smiling…at her.

  Why was this happening now…at this moment in time? The comfortable routine she’d struggled so long to build felt as if it had been swept to sea.

  The feeling was scary and invigorating all at the same time. She didn’t know whether to run and hide, or face it head-on.

  Stop beating yourself up, Izzy-girl. You know better than to question God’s plan. The past is the past and that’s where it shall stay.

  Sam’s shoulder brushed against hers as they crossed the field.

  “Hi, Sam.” Izzy returned his greeting with a smile. “How was work? Are you making a dent in the case?”

  “It’s coming along.” He nodded as they started back toward the team’s sideline. “I went in early this morning and got caught up, tied up a few loose ends, so there’s no need to return to the office after the game.”

  “Oh?” She knew he had a court date in the morning. He’d mentioned the case on Saturday, offering a brief timeline that had afforded her a glimpse into his world. “That’s good.”

  “I thought maybe you and Tucker would like to go to dinner. He mentioned how much he likes that pizza place on Cumberland…the one with the games.”

  “I’ll bet he did.” Izzy laughed. “And I suppose you agreed?”

  “I told him I had to check with you first, since it’s a school night.” He nodded. “I thought he might have homework. Do first graders get homework?”

  “He had a story to read, but we did that in the car on the way over here.”

  “Good.” Sam set the drink cooler down along the sideline, dropped the bag of fruit snacks next to it, and turned to her. “So…what’s the verdict?”

  Izzy couldn’t help herself. She liked the guy. A lot.

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Sam Holman.” She laughed. Suddenly inside she felt a lightness, a sense of freedom that filled her with happiness. “The kid-friendly pizza joint is nothing less than a madhouse after soccer games, and Tucker’s sure to throw a wrench in your arm by challenging you to never-ending free throws at the basketball hoop.”

  “I’m tough. I can do this.” Sam pumped his arms, miming a rim-swishing shot. “I played basketball in high school.”

  “Ah…another piece of your history.” Izzy grinned. “You’re an attorney—a prosecutor. You like jazz music and prime rib.” He’d devoured every bit of his at the fundraiser. “You played basketball in high school.”

  “I was a forward.”

  “A forward…I see.” Izzy nodded. “And you keep your promises to a certain little boy.”

  “And his mother.”

  “Yes, I’ll give you that much.”

  “It’s a start, right?”

  “It is. We’ll see just how tough you are in the long haul when it comes to keeping up with us.” Izzy laughed. “But my answer is yes…a resounding affirmative in favor of going to dinner together after the game.”

  ~*~*

  Tucker didn’t head to sleep easily, but finally Izzy had him washed, changed, and tucked into bed while Sam settled into a loveseat on the front porch, waiting beneath a starlit sky.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he had simply stilled himself long enough to watch fingers of moonlight dance through shifting clouds.

  It was before Molly died. She used to grab his hand and tug him onto the front lawn, where they flopped in the grass and studied constellations. She was fascinated by them, and he’d given her an in-depth study guide on her thirteenth birthday. The worn, dog-eared hardback sat on a shelf beneath his living room coffee table now, unopened and forgotten.

  Sam sighed, almost hearing Molly’s voice as she pointed out a shooting star with childlike wonder.

  “Make a wish, Sam,” she’d whispered. “Before it disappears.”

  Though he knew it was an old wives tale, he’d gone ahead and wished, believing in that moment that Molly was right; some wishes did come true.

  The screen door squeaked along its hinges, shattering Sam’s thoughts.

  “He’s out like a light.” Izzy stepped onto the porch. Her hair curled over her shoulders and spilled down the length of her back as her eyes shimmered like polished gemstones beneath the starlight.

  Sam thought he’d never seen anything so lovely.

  She handed him a mug. Sam sniffed the contents. Coffee with a touch of vanilla.

  “No worries, it’s decaf.” Izzy sipped hers as she settled against a porch beam. “Thanks for indulging Tucker in so many games tonight. It wasn’t necessary, but he loved spending time with you.”

  “How about you, Izzy?” Sam scooted over to make room on the loveseat and patted the cushion. “Do you enjoy the time we spend together, as well?”

  “Yes.”

  But he noticed she didn’t move to join him on the seat. Her eyes were hooded, cautious, as her gaze connected with his over the rim of her cup.

  “Have you ever watched the stars, Izzy…I mean, really studied them?”

  “I’m not an astronomer, if that’s what you mean.” She moved to the stair opening for a better view. “But I enjoy looking at them.”

  “Scientists say the light we see is millions of years old by the time it meets the eye, so far is the distance it must travel.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that,” she murmured. “So Heaven must be far away, as well, if it’s nestled among the stars.”

  “Heaven?”

  “Yes. Do you believe in Heaven, Sam?” she studied him over the rim of her mug. “In God?”

  “I used to…before my sister—” He choked on the word, shook his head. “God’s gone, Izzy. He’s dead. At least to me.”

  “He’s not dead, Sam. He’s still right here…with us.” Izzy nodded vigorously, never more sure of anything in her life. “He’s with both of us, right now. Here.”

  “I’d like to believe that. I truly would. But I can’t.” As vigorously
as she’d affirmed, he now disavowed. “Not after everything.”

  “That’s when you should believe the most, Sam. When it makes no sense to believe. When every rational thought screams at you to turn away, to flee. But instead you lean into truth…and embrace it.”

  “What do you know about God?” Temper bubbled up at the thought of Molly, The stars seemed to mock him with their light. “You sit in a radio station surrounded by like-minded co-workers and soothing music. Your life isn’t impacted at every turn by ugliness, greed and deceit. You know nothing about death and the pain it wreaks. You’re sheltered and naïve and—”

  “How dare you judge me…who I am or where I’ve been. What I know or don’t know.” Izzy’s eyes turned to flames. “You don’t know anything about me, Sam, so shame on you for assuming that my life has been a bed of roses. That I haven’t been hurt. Or made mistakes and paid dearly for them. That I haven’t lost someone I loved.”

  “How can I know when you refuse to share with me? You won’t even sit beside me here on the seat.” Sam set his mug down and spread his arms wide, imploring. “Why, Izzy? What happened in your past that you’re so afraid to talk about?”

  “I am not afraid.”

  “You’re more frightened than I am. And I thought I was the one who had trust issues…and had to learn to let go.”

  “That hurts, Sam.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why does it hurt? Because it’s true? That day on the radio, when I called in, you thought you were going to fix me. But I’m not the only one who can benefit from a little self-reflection.”

  “I think you should leave now.” Izzy set down the mug with a thunk. Coffee sloshed over the rim and splattered the rail. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

  “Izzy—”

  “No. This was a mistake, Sam, all of this.” She crossed her hands over her chest and backed away, toward the screen door. “You need to go. Now.”

  “I’m not going, Izzy. We need to talk this out. I care about you.”

  “You do? Well, you sure have a crummy way of showing it.” She retreated into the house, slamming the door behind her. Through the wall came a muffled voice. “Goodbye, Sam.”

  8

  Izzy disconnected with the caller and jabbed a button on her computer that would engage a lengthy music set.

  She sighed with relief. The track gave her time to stretch and refill her coffee mug.

  She’d pushed herself all morning, taking callers at double the normal rate in order to keep her mind engaged. The last thing she wanted was to revisit yesterday evening’s discussion with Sam.

  It was an argument, Izzy. No room for sugarcoating the obvious.

  Her heart still struggled to recover from the caustic words that had come out of nowhere. At least that’s how it seemed to her.

  Had she said something to provoke Sam?

  Now her mind reeled, revisiting the dialogue word by word. They’d been discussing the stars…Heaven…God.

  She stepped over to the coffeemaker and snatched the carafe from its burner as Sam’s words replayed through her memory.

  “What happened in your past that you’re so afraid to talk about?”

  Was she afraid…or merely cautious?

  “You’re more frightened than I am. And I thought I was the one who had trust issues…and had to learn to let go.”

  Guilt niggled. The words held some truth. Is that why they’d wounded so badly?

  Or was it Sam’s assertion that God was dead? The realization broke Izzy’s heart. She’d tried to get through to him, but she’d failed miserably.

  And she had to admit that he’d tried to get through to her, as well, and had also failed.

  It didn’t matter anymore. The chance, for both of them, was gone.

  Izzy filled her mug and returned the carafe to its resting place.

  “Hey, there.”

  The voice, ever so gentle, snapped Izzy from misery. She turned to find Sam in the doorway. His tie was askew, his suit jacket rumpled. From the shadows that had bloomed beneath his eyes, she doubted he’d slept any more than she had.

  She fought the urge to feel so much as a smidgeon of empathy, though the seams of her anger loosened.

  “What are you doing here?” The words left her mouth with a bite that held all of the emotion that had been churning inside her since she’d slammed the door on him last night.

  “I need to say something.” He drew a breath as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and leaned against the door jamb. “I’m sorry.”

  The words, so genuine, shook Izzy to the core. The lost and broken look in his eyes rent a hole in her anger.

  She took a step toward him. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “I’d like a chance at a do-over. I want to explain…”

  “I’d like that, and I suppose I have a bit of explaining to do as well.” Izzy closed the distance between them and placed a hand on his forearm. “I have half-an-hour left before I’m finished here. Would you like to stick around and see what the station’s all about?”

  “I’d love that.” He gathered a stray hair that had slipped across her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “Yes, I’d love to see what the station’s all about, and what you’re all about too, Izzy. I’m dying to know. It’s important to me. You’re important to me. Does that frighten you?”

  “Yes.” The word came easily now, and that drained some of the power from the fear.

  “That makes two of us.” He leaned in to place the gentlest kiss along her forehead. His touch stroked fingers of warmth along her spine. “So, if you’re willing, we’ll talk things out and we’ll just have to take it slow. We’ll figure things out together.”

  “That’s the best way, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed it is.”

  ~*~

  Sam settled into the rolling chair and watched Izzy in action. He was impressed by her gracefulness as she simultaneously juggled numerous pieces of equipment. Though the studio proved a flurry of computer software, telephones, notes and commercials, she never missed a beat.

  “How did you figure out this was what you wanted to do with your life?” he asked when she finally turned over the reins to the evening host half-an-hour later and they escaped together into the dimly-lit corridor.

  “I was studying communications when I got pregnant with Tucker. I had to finish my studies online, and during that time I was lucky enough to snag an internship at the station. The pay proved dismal, but the hours were good. One afternoon I was filing papers and making cold calls to set up remotes when a winter storm blew in. The evening host couldn’t make it, and I was snowed in here, so I gave the mic a whirl and filled in. The station manager was listening at home, and he was so impressed that as soon as the storm cleared, he offered me my own segment. I gladly accepted. The rest is history.”

  “Sounds like it was meant to be.” Sam took her hand as they picked up their pace to mark time against the beat of music that filtered through hallway speakers. Who knew inspirational music could have such a jam.

  “I think so.” Izzy snatched her sweater from a wall peg near the break room. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  “It’s not as easy as I imagined it would be. You have to be organized and efficient.”

  She’d cleared the phone lines by addressing four different callers in the course of half-an-hour. None of them were nearly as combative as Sam had initially been, and the thought pricked at his conscience. He had to get a handle on resentment that stemmed from the past before it crushed his future. But how?

  “Being a single mom has offered quite a bit of on-the-job training for that.” Izzy slipped her arms through the sleeves of her sweater as they wound their way toward the exit. “But Tucker’s worth every minute of hard work. So is my radio show. It’s more than a job to me, Sam.”

  “I get that.” He’d seen the joy in her eyes firsthand.

  A mild breeze washed over them as Sam led Izzy through t
he exit door into the parking lot. Only a few vehicles remained, and his SUV was parked beside her compact sedan.

  “Do you have to get Tucker?” Sam asked as he jangled the keys he’d tucked into the pocket of his slacks.

  Izzy checked her watch. “I have an hour or so before his school dismisses.”

  “Would you like to go for coffee?” Sam motioned to his SUV. “We never got to finish what you poured last night, and the coffee shop is just down the street. I’d like to make it up to you.”

  “We could walk if you don’t mind,” Izzy suggested. “It’s a nice day, and I could use a little exercise after sitting in the studio all morning.”

  “And a good walk would do wonders to clear the courtroom cobwebs from my head.” He tilted his face toward the sun, soaking up its warmth. “Perfect.”

  They started down the walk. Sam reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

  “About last night…” Izzy sighed. “I’m sorry I got so angry.”

  The sun turned her auburn hair to flames that danced over her shoulders. Her eyes, such a frightening stormy gray last night as her temper flared, had calmed to a gentle, mesmerizing forest-green.

  “You had a right. I was awful.” Sam let his instincts guide him. He humbled himself. “I’m so ashamed.”

  “You’re not the only one. We all have our moments.”

  “Some worse than others.”

  “It happens. It’s OK.”

  “No, it’s not OK. I need to explain.”

  “If you must…I’m listening.”

  “I had a sister.” The hairs at the nape of Sam’s neck stood on end as he gathered all the strength he could muster. He’d never discussed this before with anyone—not even his parents. The pain was so raw, so tender, that it festered without relief. He repeated the words, as if saying them again would make things easier. “Yes, I had a sister, Izzy.”

  “Had? Oh, Sam…” Izzy paused in her tracks. When she turned to face him, her eyes held such tenderness that he thought he might get lost in it.

  “Her name was Molly.” Even now, voicing it brought a heart-wrenching stab of grief that stole his balance, threatening to beat him down to the pavement. But the concern in Izzy’s eyes coaxed him to stand tall and continue. His voice cracked as the words came. “She was almost six years younger than me. Beautiful and sweet and so filled with an innocence that I can hardly fathom it. She loved the stars.”