by Lisa Heaton
Robin’s hand held to his tightly. He was reminded of the hours of prayer offered in the room where they stood, at the feet of the One he currently praised. How many times had he pleaded with the Lord for her happiness? All the while, He knew she would someday stand beside him in that very same room again. Singing and praising, he found His grace to be more overwhelming in that moment than even at the beach. He was given a second chance he didn’t deserve, but isn’t that what the grace of God is all about? His love and mercy shown to an undeserving world. As much as he would like to believe he could somehow be the perfect husband going forward, he doubted his ability. But he also knew that through the same grace God offered, He would make him to be what she needed.
After the service as Mike was speaking with Miss Allen, Tim took that opportunity to speak with Robin privately. Handing her a piece of paper, he said, “I think you will want to read this.”
Unfolding the paper, she saw that it was a newspaper article. There was a photo of Mike, and beside it read: In His Own Words. Scanning the article, she realized it was his admission of guilt and immediately tears sprang to her eyes. Unable to read it in a room full of people, she folded it and quickly tucked it away.
“It was on the front page. Everyone has seen it by now.”
“I can’t believe he did this.”
“I don’t think there is anything he wouldn’t do for you.”
She looked at Tim, truly comprehending how much he cared for Mike. “I believe that, too. Does he know you are giving me this?”
“Not yet, but I will tell him.”
“When did he do this?”
“Right after you left the last time.”
Nodding, she scanned the room looking for Mike. He was still talking with Miss Allen, who had him cornered, and was likely recruiting him for whatever event was next at the church. The sight made her grin. Turning back to Tim, she told him, “I am so glad you have been here for him.”
“I will always be here for him, for you, too.”
Mike was walking toward them. Before he was in hearing distance, she wanted Tim to know. “I love him, and I forgive him.”
“I can see that, and I can honestly say, I have never seen a man love a woman more.”
When Mike came to stand by her, she teased, “Are you already jockeying for the caramel apple table?”
Heaving, he grabbed for his stomach, feigning nausea. “Not funny.”
Sliding her arm around his waist, she asked, “Can we go home now?’
“Sure. You okay?” He was playing with a lock of hair draped across her shoulder. The way he felt at the moment, as she looked up at him with those big seductive brown eyes, he was not so sure they would make it out of the parking lot.
“Yes, but I am running out of time with you. You go back to work tomorrow, and I will miss you so much. Let’s spend the rest of the day alone, curled up in bed.”
Kissing her atop her head, he assured her, “I will miss you more. And you must have read my mind.” Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Being alone with you is all I can think of.”
The next morning, Robin opened her Bible. That was where she had tucked the newspaper article. Mike was gone to work already, and it was her first moment alone to read his words. Having told him that Tim gave her the article, he asked that she wait until he left before reading it. He seemed self-conscious about her reading it while he was home.
Looking at the photo of him, she smiled at the maturity in his eyes. For as long as she had known him, there was a sparkle when he looked at her. In this photo, however, in his eyes she noted such wisdom, something gained through years of walking with God.
In His Own Words
I have recently discovered what an injustice has happened in this town. For a town that knows the secrets of most every person, you have been blind or unwilling to see mine. No wonder you accepted me back after prison with such open arms. As much as I appreciate that, to know it is at the cost of my wife’s reputation is something I can’t allow to continue. She was an innocent victim, and I want each and every one of you to know that.
Not long after the death of our son, I began drinking. Even prior to that, I was having tremendous problems adjusting after coming home from Gulf. I was volatile and agitated already, until eventually, combined with the effects of the alcohol, I became abusive toward her. Because she loved me and valued our marriage, she told no one. Over the course of that final year, I hit her dozens of times, leaving her bruised and battered; still she remained silent.
That final night, I nearly killed her. What she did was in self-defense, no matter what she thinks, no matter the guilt she has expressed over it. That is the kind of gentle and loving woman she is, one who feels remorse over shooting a man who tried to choke the life out of her. Though what happened is still lost in a haze of drunkenness, I saw photos of the bruising on her neck and her face. Her nose and ribs were broken, her shoulder dislocated. After the damage I caused, and Lord only knows what more I may have been capable of, only He saved her that night. Knowing me now, I hope you can believe that I am a changed man. None of the chaotic thoughts or alcohol-induced rages threaten me or anyone around me. Because of that certainty, and because of the strength of the Lord, I am able to be open and honest about what happened. I can only imagine how some of you will feel about me after this admission, but defending Robin’s character is much more important to me than my own reputation.
Discovering how she was treated after I was sent to prison devastates and disappoints me. How could the victim be treated as the criminal? How could a town that knows so much keep so silent on the matter? The police knew, everyone involved in the legal process knew. How then was this kept such a secret?
I want all of you I know and love to hear the truth. I want you to get a glimpse of the woman who held me while we waited for an ambulance. In our final moments together, she led me to know the Lord Jesus, assuring me He would forgive me for all that I had done. How is that possible to have such love and compassion for the man who had just beaten you so severely you could hardly open your eyes to see?
The star – that’s what someone called me. I was never a star, shooting or falling. I was just a man who made a mess of his life and his marriage, a man who lost everything that ever mattered to him. Now, I am a man totally devoted to Jesus Christ. I depend on Him daily to help me walk out this life alone, without the woman I love. To Him, I am grateful for the brief, recent time of healing that she and I have come to know. Though all hope for mending our marriage is lost, our friendship has been restored. That is God’s sweetest gift to me.
So now you know. And I ask, if by some set of circumstances a miracle occurs and she comes back to this town to visit our son’s grave, or even to see me, that you treat her with all the respect and honor she deserves. She is a godly woman, with the highest character. For those of you who were too busy looking at me and never got to know her, you have missed out on the greatest person to have ever touched my life.
Robin sat, stunned by his words. The fact that he had so honestly and openly told the details of what transpired that night was shocking. Looking back on the day before at church, she more easily understood her reception. It was not as if she felt as condemned by her church family, many called and tried to see her in the aftermath of what happened. It was at her refusal they were turned away. But still, she had come to believe everyone hated her, so going to church had been just as frightening as if she were walking back into the bakery.
Sighing, she glanced at the article again. Some of what he said was untrue, even though it was what he genuinely believed. Her secrecy about the abuse, from his viewpoint, was something much nobler than her true motive. In the time to come, when they were settled in and beyond the point of the honeymoon phase, assuming that ever ended, she would share with him her determination that it was pride, rather, that kept her silent. Until that time, she would find joy in the things he said about her and find comfort in the fact that that night, God not
only saved her, but saved them both.
20
Early afternoon, Robin was in the kitchen cleaning up the lunch dishes. Mike had come home to eat as he usually did. They were easily sliding into a comfortable groove together. It was better than anything they had known before. Even in the early stages of young love, it was not like it was now. The transformation was easy to understand. This was the first time that the Lord Jesus lived in the midst of them. It was a stark contrast.
They had been home from the beach for two weeks, and each day she found something to fill her time. Having been gone so long, and having had a man in charge of the house, she found plenty to keep her busy. Eagerly, happily even, she cleaned baseboards and scrubbed floors. Slowly, it was becoming hers again. After so many years away, she had taken back possession of something she thought she never wanted to see again. Amazing how time could change a heart.
After finishing in the kitchen, she folded laundry and did a few other chores, ran to the market, and put groceries away. By late afternoon, she ran out of things to keep her occupied. Her mind had been cluttered all day, and she found it difficult to focus on even the most mindless of tasks. Mike even noticed how distracted she seemed during lunch. He was talking to her, but her mind was elsewhere.
She slid a chair out from the table and sat, looking apprehensively at Mikey’s door. Since coming home, she had yet to go inside, but over the past few days, she felt the Lord drawing her in. Sitting for a few minutes more, she prayed, “Lord, I don’t think I can handle what is on the other side of that door.”
“My grace is sufficient for you,” was what she heard in her heart.
“I love him so much still. Please make sure he knows.” Standing, she walked to the door and placed her hand on it. Leaning her head against the wood, she sighed. With unexpected and sudden courage, she reached for the knob and turned it. Swinging the door open wide, she stood in the doorway for a few minutes. It looked exactly as she left it seven years before. Not one thing was different.
When she was able to lift her right foot, she moved it over the threshold of the doorway. Then she lifted the other, and from there, it was a conscience and difficult process to walk over to Michael’s crib. Standing there, looking at the empty mattress, she smiled, remembering what he looked like when she would find him waiting for her, awake. When he would see her, he would grin, drool running down the corner of his mouth and onto his pajamas. Touching the mattress, she appreciated that in those memories of him, she was clinging to love. It was something she had done only in talking about him, but this day, she was living out her love for him.
Slowly, she turned and walked to the rocking chair. As she sat, she heard the slight squeaking that was so familiar to her. With each movement, there was a tiny little squeak. Dreamily, she closed her eyes and held out her arms, peacefully rocking her baby in her heart. In her mind, she could see his dark blue eyes peeking up at her as she nursed him and could feel his chubby little hand rubbing her chest. Without question, he was the sweetest gift, and for ten months she was the happiest mommy in the world. She would rather have those ten months with the pain than to never have known such love.
There, sitting quietly in Michael’s room, she heard Chris’ words that day they knelt together in his cabin. “The Psalmist said, ‘The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.’ He was there, Robin. No matter what it felt like, He was there.” As Chris had suggested, she tried again to see God that day so long ago. With all her heart she knew He was there, no matter what her eyes could see. Suddenly, for the first time it occurred to her, that day she was held in the shadow of His wings. That was why she could not see Him. He was wrapped around her tightly, just as she had wrapped herself around Michael. He was so close in fact, that she could not see Him at all. “I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.” Psalm 57:1b There was something about the revelation that settled the matter entirely. The one place she had remained so stuck, even after such strides in healing over so many other things, she was suddenly and unexpectedly released. Beyond her ability to fully comprehend at the moment, she knew it was something that would be transformative.
Mike stood in the doorway watching her. The look on Robin’s face was tranquil and tender. Her arms were extended, cradling emptiness. She was rocking his son, and his heart broke at such a sight. Moving quietly, he knelt before her in the chair. “Baby, are you all right?”
Her head was resting on the back of the rocker. Without opening her eyes, she smiled. “Yes. I am all right.”
“Are you rocking our baby?”
“I am.”
“Should I give you a few more minutes alone?”
Lifting her head, she quoted, “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”
He was not exactly sure what to say. She had been acting strangely for a few days, and now, he was getting a bit more concerned. “Tell me what has been bothering you. I want to help you through this.” Drawing her hand to his lips, he kissed it, whispering, “Please don’t pull away from me, not again.”
Reaching out, she touched his cheek. It was rough and rugged. He was devastatingly handsome and hardly seemed to know it. She blushed at the flash of memory of their first night back together, making love. “You were not quite as careful as you thought.”
Shaking his head slightly, he was confused even more. “What do you mean?”
Reaching for his hand, she placed it on her stomach. “I am a few days late.”
Lowering his head onto her lap, he cried and laughed all at the same time. Kissing her stomach, he whispered, “My baby.”
“I have not taken a test, so maybe you shouldn’t get your hopes up yet. But if I am not, we can sure begin trying.”
Scooping her out of the chair, he began to twirl her around the room. Holding on to his neck, she allowed him all the happiness he deserved. In all the years of her grief, it was easy to lose sight of the fact that he lost his son, too. All that time she was holding on to Michael’s death, Mike was holding on to his love for him. He wanted to share that love with another child, and she withheld that from him. Never again.
The past few days of pondering and waiting for her cycle to begin, a million feelings and emotions bombarded her. Certain that one time without protection would not have gotten her pregnant; she refused to believe it at first. But finally, even without a test, she knew. She felt it deep within her. Instinctively, her immediate reaction was one of paralyzing fear, but the verse she quoted was what ultimately brought her peace. The Lord knew His timing. Just as with Michael, the Lord had determined this baby’s time to be conceived. His purpose would prevail.
Dizzy from his excitement, she suggested, “You do remember a little thing called morning sickness, don’t you?”
He stopped spinning. “Let’s go get a test right now.”
Tightly, she squeezed his neck, pressing her face against his. “Are you excited?”
“More so than you could ever know. Are you? Are you scared?” His unease from the previous days rushed back over him, causing him great concern. The one thing she did not want, since the moment of Mikey’s death, was another baby. He should have been more careful or waited even. “You said you weren’t ready. I’m sorry.”
The look of concern on his face reminded her how much he loved her. “I am not scared, and I just thought I wasn’t ready. I’m ready.” Pointing up over the doorway, she explained, “I want to paint Michael’s name there over the door and put wings beside it. And you know the verse that says, ‘…and they can no longer die; for they are like the angels.’ I want to paint that under his name.” While she knew he was not an angel, the thought that he was there in heaven with and like the angels was a tremendous comfort to her. He was waiting there for her, and she would see him again someday.
“I think that is a great idea.” He lowered her to the ground and pulled her close, relieved, excited, and humbled
. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of this.”
Holding him tightly, she corrected him, “You do. You deserve all the happiness you are feeling right now. Please believe that.” Raising her head, she looked at him. “Mike McGarrett, you are the kindest, gentlest…” Resting her head on his chest again, her eyes filled with tears, and she could hardly go on. Overcome by happiness and gratitude, it took her a moment to find her voice again. Finally, she finished. “You are the godliest man I know, and I am so thankful you are mine.”
She thought of Chris for a moment. Mike had become so much like him. Since she had been home, she discovered how much he had been pouring himself into others. Not only at the church, but with at-risk youth, and who knew what else she might discover about him. As his life without her unfolded, she found herself in awe at the level of transformation in him. And she was determined not to be the reason any of those things ceased. Just as he did, she wanted to reach out to others, and so far, her mind was set on his mother, Kathy. Different than they were before, she wanted to live a life outside of just them.
After dinner, they drove to the same pharmacy where her birth control pills were purchased. The irony was not lost on either of them, yet neither mentioned it. Their new life together would be filled with such moments, ones that served as a reminder of how lives and a marriage without God at its center would inevitably become unbalanced. Filled with excitement though, any lingering memory faded. All that mattered to either of them was what the test might reveal.
Back at home, they discovered they would once again become parents.
21
Standing on the dock, looking out at the water she used to consider her escape, Robin thought of the painting that depicted this exact location. In the gathering room of the inn, Chris’ canvas hung over the fireplace. Painted his first week there, it was what he captured after he saw her dive into the water for the first time. In his final days there, he gave it to her, sharing how he could never draw her into the scene. Having pondered the reason, he determined it was because she never belonged there. It was her place to run, never her place to be. What he said that day was the first seed planted that God would use to draw her home.
