Returning Home

by Toni Shiloh

  Michelle held up her iPhone. “I downloaded a Bible app on my phone, so I wouldn’t hold you guys up.”

  Evan looked around the table. Jo and Chloe had Bibles open, thumbing through the pages, while Darryl had his phone out. He stared down at his iPad.

  Lord, please lead me tonight. “Once you guys get there, look at verse twenty-one through the end. I’ll read what it says.”

  He read in a clear, sturdy voice. When he was done, he set his iPad down and looked around the table. It was interesting to see the various looks on everyone’s faces. Darryl looked annoyed. Chloe smiled knowingly. Michelle looked confused. And Jo...well, Jo looked sad.

  “What do you guys think?”

  Michelle looked up and spoke to the group. “So, we’re supposed to forgive someone, no matter how many times they wrong us? Is that the gist of this?”

  “In a very simplified way: yes.”

  “But,” she sputtered. “What about someone who murders another person?”

  He felt someone stare at him and turned. Jo looked at him, moving her eyes toward Michelle and back to him. Evan didn’t know what was going on, but obviously this was important. Lord, please give me the words.

  “Even a murderer.” He answered softly. He paused to gather his thoughts. “Michelle, forgiving another person for such a magnitude of offense is humanly impossible.”

  “Then why does God ask it of us? It says He won’t forgive us if we are still holding onto grudges. What sense does that make if you say it’s humanly impossible?”

  Chloe chimed in. “That’s where the power of the Holy Spirit works in us and helps us to forgive. What I think Evan is trying to say is, without God, we can’t forgive another person. But when we trust in Him and surrender our burdens, He can bring us to true forgiveness.”

  Thank You for Chloe. “Christ has forgiven all of us for every single sin we will or have committed,” Evan stated. “It’s a done deal, His forgiveness. With that in mind, what sense does it honestly make to walk around not forgiving another person? Of course, most feelings aren’t about logic, but just think about the rationality of not forgiving someone who Christ has forgiven.”

  He looked around the table, taking a moment to look each of them in the eye. When he met Jo’s eyes, she looked down into her Bible. He wondered who she couldn’t forgive. Her mother? Or her father for dying?

  JO CLOSED HER EYES, thinking about her life. She’d been walking around with resentment and judgment in her heart all because of how her mother treated her. Yet, if Christ had forgiven her mother already for her actions, why was she holding on to it? What good was it doing her?

  She looked up and her eyes collided with Darryl’s. She sat back, startled by the depth of anger in them.

  Ask him.

  She froze at the Voice. It was the same one from the running trail. She hesitated, knowing she needed to proceed with caution. Taking a deep breath, she asked the question on her mind. “Darryl, do you think that anger helps you in any way? I’m asking, because it’s something I’ve asked myself.” Jo didn’t want all the attention placed solely on his shoulders. Besides, she knew she had to work through her own anger.

  The others turned toward Darryl, as if unaware of the anger coming off him like heat waves in the desert.

  “It...He...why would God forgive bad people?” His hands balled into a fist on each side of his phone.

  Jo knew how he felt. That overwhelming sense of injustice. Before she could speak, Evan did.

  “What is the definition of a bad person?”

  “What?” Shock rang out in Darryl’s voice.

  It echoed the one in her own head. What in the world did Evan mean? Everyone knew what a bad person was.

  “What is the definition of a bad person?” Evan repeated.

  “According to my dictionary app, one definition is ‘morally objectionable’.” Michelle stated, waving her iPhone in the air.

  “There you go.” Darryl said, gesturing toward Michelle. “If someone is morally wrong or ‘objectionable’,” he said using air quotes, “why would God forgive such a person?”

  “Read Psalm fourteen verse three,” Chloe interjected. “Go ahead, do it now, please.”

  They all reached for their Bibles and silence descended, magnifying the shuffling of pages.

  Gasps rent the air.

  “So you see, according to the Bible, there is ‘none who does good’.” Chloe stated it as a matter of fact, without judgment.

  “Thanks, Chloe.” Evan gave her a smile. “None of us are good; therefore, we’re all in need of a savior. The Savior. The One who forgave our sins as He was being nailed to a cross amongst men who were questioning His sovereignty.”

  Silence roared.

  Jo swallowed the lump in her throat. No one was good? What did it mean? She closed her eyes as the information sunk in. “If we are all bad by God’s standards, then we’re all in need of forgiveness. Am I right?” She looked at her friends.

  Chloe and Evan nodded and she continued. “So, correct me if I’m wrong. We should all forgive others to be more like Him?” Even though she asked it in a question, she knew the words rang true. She could feel the affirmation in her heart.

  “Exactly,” Evan said with a smile.

  They continued on for another thirty minutes hashing out their different understandings of forgiveness and why it was necessary. Evan ended the study with a prayer and Jo knew she was beginning to realize who God really was.

  As she walked toward the coat hanger, she felt a lightness in her heart that she hadn’t experienced in a really long time. It almost felt kind of peaceful.

  It must be a God thing.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Evan stared down at his left limb, noting the angry red lines. His prosthetic laid next to him on the bed. He knew there would be a period of adjustment, but now he was beginning to think it was something more.

  He rubbed his leg, wincing at the pain. Since it was Saturday, he’d have to wait until Monday to call the office. Hopefully the doctor would be able to tell him what to do to help his limb adjust. The folded-up wheelchair stared at him from the corner of the butler’s pantry. Should he use it tonight?

  No! Evan wanted to be standing when he took Jo out. He wanted to be able to gaze into her eyes, not crane his neck trying to look up at her.

  Lord, I pray that I won’t be in pain tonight. I want to enjoy Jo’s company. Please bring healing to my leg.

  He reached for the prosthetic to begin getting ready for his date.

  JO PICKED UP THE ROLLED carpet to toss into the waste bin outside. She glanced down, noticing the sweat and grime on her clothes. Date night, she gasped. The idea to work as long as possible to keep the nerves at bay now seemed foolish. Would she have enough time to be ready by five?

  She looked at her watch. Half past three. Maybe she should go home to get ready now. She still needed to find something suitable to wear and since denim and t-shirts constituted the majority of her closet, Jo wasn’t sure what she would find. What could she possibly wear?

  Michelle. Her friend would know the answer.

  After closing up the house, Jo stowed her tools in the bed of her truck and hopped in to head home. Progress on Evan’s renovation was finally moving smoothly. She loved all the changes. She could only hope...no pray, he would as well.

  Her face lifted in a slight smile. It felt weird to go from hoping and relying on fate to praying and seeking God. Did other people think it odd? I’m trying, God.

  She pulled into her driveway, parking next to Michelle’s car. Thank goodness the girl was already home. It was almost four. How did time pass so quickly from getting into the car to arriving at home? Freedom Lake was either bigger than she thought or the clocks weren’t using their full sixty seconds.

  “Chelle?” She stood in the doorway, listening for a reply.

  “I’m in your room looking through your closet.”

  Thank goodness. She rushed straight back to her room an
d stopped in amazement. Clothes had been strewn all over her bed while Michelle rummaged through the closet, resembling a mad woman.

  “Good grief, did you dump my whole closet onto the bed?”

  “Don’t give me that look.” Her friend snapped. “Your choice of clothing is atrocious. The majority of this crap is overalls and t-shirts.” She shook her head in disgust.

  “Well, they serve me well at work.” Who cared what she wore when she was ripping out walls and tattered carpet?

  “Yes, but what about when you’re not at work.” Michelle pulled out a blue maxi dress. “Is this the only dress you own?”

  “Well, I own a skirt too.” She grabbed her necklace. Maybe she shouldn’t have said yes to Evan.

  “You mean this sad thing?” Michelle held up a long black skirt that was frayed around the edges. “This should have been put out to pasture a long time ago.”

  “But the frayed edges make it kind of boho chic.”

  “Uh, no. It’s frayed because it’s so old. Where is he taking you again?”

  “Marcelli’s.”

  “What?”

  The look on her friend’s face would have been comical if the girl wasn’t in such a panic. Who was going on this date anyway?

  “Okay, we’re going to my room to see if you can fit into any skirts or dresses I own. No jeans for you. He always sees you in jeans.”

  “You know I don’t think he minds me in jeans since he did ask me out. Besides, I don’t want to wear anything too tight or revealing.” She stifled a groan as she followed Michelle down the hall. The girl acted like she couldn’t hear her.

  “Everyone dresses up for a date. He’ll be expecting you to as well.”

  “I wore slacks on my last date.”

  “And that was when again?” Her friend arched an eyebrow, arms folded in front of her. Her high heel tapped out a steady rhythm against the wood floors.

  “A few years ago,” she muttered. Five is more like it. Who wanted to date men her mother shoved at her? She collapsed on the bed. Okay, maybe she needed to wear something nicer.

  Michelle smirked and then tore her closet door open. Once again, she resumed her frenzied rummaging while muttering under her breath. Jo could barely make out the “no, no, no” as she slid clothes from left to right, one after the other. She watched in bemusement.

  “You know we don’t wear the same size, right?” How on earth would she fit into something of Michelle’s? Last time she checked, Michelle wore a size two, a four on her “fat” days. She shook her head. Jo had never fit into those sizes. A steady eight had been her go-to since high school.

  “I know we don’t. I have a bunch of clothes from when I collected designer dresses to re-gift to those who needed something. You know that charity I did in Kodiak.”

  “I forgot about that. You actually still have those?”

  “Yep, you never know when someone needs the perfect outfit. And I think I just found yours.” Michelle pulled a deep purple, sweater dress out of the closet and looked at Jo with a foolish grin on her face.

  Jo stood up, taking it in. The color was gorgeous, but she usually stuck to red.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  “I kind of like the neckline. It’s like a loose turtleneck.”

  “It’s a cowl neck, JoJo.”

  Whatever. “I’m just not sure about it...”

  “It’s fantastic. You’ll look cute and be warm. Don’t you have some boots that would go with this? Maybe even a pair of black tights?”

  She nodded as the dress slowly grew on her. “I think I may have the perfect ones. But what size is this?”

  “It’s an eight. Is that good?”

  “Perfect.”

  After getting out of the shower, Jo put on the sweater dress. It fit perfectly, cinched in at the waist by a black belt, then flared out and fell just below her knee. She pulled her black scrunched boots over her tights. At the sound of a low whistle, she turned toward her bedroom door.

  “You’re going to knock his socks off.” Michelle waggled her eyebrows.

  “I certainly hope so.” She swallowed as her stomach did the tango. “Thanks for the dress.”

  “Sure, glad to help. Do you have earrings? And not studs, dangling earrings would go much better. And are you going to wear your hair down?”

  “Yes, to all of the above.”

  Jo grabbed her purple-and-sterling-silver ball earrings and put them in. Her father gave them to her for her sixteenth birthday. In fact, that was probably the last time she wore them. She smiled as the memory warmed her heart. Last, she parted her hair to the side and swept it back over her shoulders. She had added soft waves to it with the curling iron. It wasn’t half bad.

  The doorbell sounded.

  “I’ll go answer the door for you. Make sure you come out after a minute or two,” Michelle said with a smile.

  She nodded and nervously smoothed her hands down over her clothes.

  Um, God, it’s me again, Jo. I’m super nervous about tonight. I mean, do I even want to take this beyond business? I’m just worried he’ll turn back into Mr. Hyde after I’ve taken the chance to share part of myself.

  Jo bit her lip then quickly stopped, afraid to ruin her lip gloss. I guess what I’m trying to say is, please don’t let this date be a mistake. I want to enjoy tonight, but if it turns out we don’t click, please help us stay friends. Um, Amen.

  EVAN BARELY GLANCED at Michelle as she held the door open for him. He couldn’t believe how nervous he was. He’d been praying all day that the date would go well.

  “How are you?” He looked around, hoping to spot Jo.

  “I’m good. Jo’s finishing up. She should be out in a moment.”

  “Great.” He stared at the back hallway, then realized he was being rude. He slowly turned to face Michelle, being careful not to fall. He wasn’t great at pivoting on his prosthetic yet and the pain made it more difficult. “Sorry, I was being rude.”

  “I understand,” she said, her hazel eyes twinkling at him.

  He nodded, feeling his face warm under her scrutiny. He prayed she kept her mouth shut and didn’t make any jokes. Footfalls echoed on the hardwood floor. Great, now I have to turn back around. When he did, he knew that it had all been worth it. His heart stilled at the sight of Jo.

  She was gorgeous.

  He didn’t know what was more shocking, her wearing a dress or the way her hair cascaded around her shoulders in waves. He never realized how thick and long her hair was. All he wanted to do was touch the soft-looking waves.

  He stepped forward, his eyes never leaving hers. “Right about now I wish I had my wheelchair to hold me up.” His eyes did a slow perusal. “At least I know which leg won’t buckle at the sight of your beauty,” he said with a wink.

  Her laugh mesmerized him. “Laying it on a bit thick aren’t you, Evan?”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet, JoJo.” He grinned at her.

  Tonight would be a great night.

  On the drive into the city, silence enveloped them like a canopy of trees. Except, all it did was increase his nerves. It would be better if he could drive. Instead, Jo did. He gestured toward the radio.

  “Is it okay if I turn it on?”

  “Sure.”

  Soulful notes of Miles Davis filled the air. He glanced at Jo out of his peripheral vision and noticed she toyed with the silver-rope chain around her neck.

  “How long have you had that? I don’t remember you wearing jewelry that often.”

  “I’ve only been wearing it since my dad died. He never wore rings or anything because of his job, but he always had the chain on underneath his shirt. It was a sign to my mother that he loved her and would stay faithful.”

  She paused and he glanced at her again. She inhaled, her brow wrinkling in the moonlight. It was evident the death of her father still grieved her.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “I asked him why a rope chain and he said a ‘three strand cord isn’t easily bro
ken’.”

  “That’s awesome. I didn’t know your dad was a Christian. I don’t remember seeing him in church when we were younger.”

  Jo cleared her throat and he concentrated on her voice. “How did you know he was a Christian?”

  “The three strand cord phrase is in Ecclesiastes from the Old Testament. It’s part of a passage that explains why two is better than one.”

  “Do you believe that? That two is better than one? What if the two aren’t compatible?”

  “How boring would it be if they were? Now, I’m not saying people should be different in, say, their beliefs. However, what people mistake as incompatibility of personality is the beauty of a complementary relationship.”

  “I never looked at it that way. I always wondered how my parents got together, because they’re as different as night and day. My dad told me he knew from the moment he met her that she was the one for him. He wanted to be able to make her laugh and lighten up. And he always did.”

  Her voice faded as if she had been caught up in the memories. His mind raced as he tried to figure out a way to turn the conversation to prevent the downward turn of her mood. Think!

  “What do you think about us? Do you think we’re compatible or complementary?” He wanted to take back the words as soon as they left his mouth. What if she didn’t want to look that far ahead? He stole a glance out the corner of his eye.

  A look of concentration settled on Jo’s face. “I don’t know. We used to get along great until high school, and then you stopped talking to me. Now, it’s like I’m discovering who you are all over again.”

  “So what have you discovered so far?”

  “You love getting to know God more. You have a positive outlook on life, despite losing part of your leg. You love your parents and you’re a good friend.”

  “I’m not sure if my outlook is completely positive, but God and I are working on it.”

  “I have been curious about one thing.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “What have you been doing since you graduated high school? I’m assuming you went to college and got a job, yet you never talk about anything from that part of your life.”