by Lisa Heaton
Threading his fingers through hers, he whispered, “As far as I’m concerned, we can spend the entire day nestled in this chair.”
Blinking tears away, she whispered in return, “As far as I’m concerned, we can spend the rest of our lives in this chair.”
Pulling her even closer, he kissed her head and sighed without responding.
Very quickly, it appeared as if there was an explosion at a wrapping paper factory. Paper and bows filled the floor, while her sister went around with trash bags picking up debris. The morning was amazing for the children and the parents, too. John went overboard with gifts, which seemed to take everyone by surprise but Chelsea. Considering he offered her a three-million-dollar condo, she knew a few electronics and toys was nothing to him. Of all the gifts, the most exciting was given to Preston. John arranged for flight lessons for him at an airfield in Tulsa. Chelsea was certain she’d never seen Preston more animated. It was strange to think that Preston might someday become a pilot just as he’d always dreamed of being, and it would be because John was in her life that Preston got his start.
When Tess handed Chelsea a small box, she turned to John and said, “I thought we agreed no gifts.”
“We did, but I bought this a while back and have been saving it. So it doesn’t count.” At her hesitance, smiling, he encouraged, “Open it.” Since purchasing the gift, he had been anxious for her to open it, hardly able to wait for Christmas. On more than one occasion he’d been tempted to give it to her early. It was the first piece of jewelry that he was certain she would love.
Based on its size, she could tell it was jewelry. Once she tore into the paper, she saw the Tiffany & Co. logo. Her heart began to pound in hopes that it was what she suspected. Glancing up at John, she found a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Removing the box and flipping open the lid, she found her silver locket glistening against black velvet. It was the one she had admired when they were in New York together on the way to Italy. As much as she wanted it then, she could hardly afford it. Even when John offered to buy it for her, she said she wasn’t interested. If he bought it, it would be something else she would have to leave behind when she left L.A., something that would break her heart to let go of. But since it was her Christmas gift, she would always keep it. Already she was trying to decide which of his photos she would use to place across from hers. There was something so sweet and sentimental about a locket. Her grandmother had one from when she and her granddad first married. It went to her dad’s sister, Linda, when her grandmother passed, and rightly so. Since then, Chelsea had always wanted one of her own. John could have given her no more precious gift.
Circling her arms around his neck, she buried her face and whispered, “It’s exactly what I wanted.”
“I know, baby.” Holding her tightly, he hardly noticed the roomful of eyes upon them. Certainly they were expecting some extravagant piece of jewelry based on the excessive gifts he had given them. If he thought she would like it, he’d have spent unlimited money on jewelry. He already had, but those things meant nothing to her. When she looked at the locket in the store, though, he saw a glimmer in her eye and then the clear look of disappointment over the price. At the memory of it, that sensation of burning in his chest resurfaced. Unfortunately, he would have to get used to such a feeling as it was what would come and likely remain when he had to begin life without her.
Eventually, John and Chelsea went into the kitchen to start breakfast, leaving parents and grandparents to open packaging and put toys together. With fourteen of them to feed, it took quite some time to prepare enough food. As they always did, they enjoyed being together in the kitchen. From breakfast on they were not often out of each other’s sight. Something new emerged out of the pain of their conversation the night before. There was a greater sense of closeness for sure, but also a desperate desire to cherish each and every moment they had remaining. Intentionally, the end was never mentioned again.
Just after lunch, Gail was cleaning the kitchen and putting food away. Everyone was scattered, some down for a nap, some outside playing in the snow, and some playing with new electronics. Chelsea and John, however, sat alone on the same swing they had the night before. Before bed, watching from her window, Gail saw that something significant transpired between them, and whatever it was, carried over into the morning hours. They were different this morning. There was some sort of sorrow that had settled upon them both. Certainly they were just as affectionate as before, maybe even more so, but there was still an undercurrent of unhappiness. Gail knew her daughter well enough to be sure of it.
Since they arrived, both she and Bob had watched the two in amazement. Never had they seen Chelsea as happy as she was with John. As for John, he was likely the most loving man she’d ever seen. Bob was always good to her throughout their years together, but never did he look at her the way John looked at Chelsea. John was kind and attentive, always holding her hand or caressing her cheek. There was something in the way they clung to each other, especially this day, that caused her to wonder about the desperation in their eyes. It was not simply her imagination; Caitlin had picked up on something too, yet neither of them could quite put their finger on it. Gail found that her prayers that day were often for Chelsea and John. She sensed they needed it.
Once the family was gone, Chelsea and John spent another day at the cabin before flying out to Montana. Chelsea found she liked being there in Montana with his parents almost as much as she enjoyed being with her own family. She and his mother talked and cooked together, reminding Chelsea of those similar times with her grandmother. This day, John was gone with his dad to his ranch, and she and Louise were upstairs in Chelsea’s room looking once again at photos of John when he was a young boy. Since the men had left recently, Chelsea knew they would be gone for quite some time more. While they were alone, even though she knew it was totally inappropriate to ask, she asked anyway. “Did John love Tracy?”
Surprised by Chelsea’s question, Louise sat for a moment looking at her. Finally, she admitted, “No. I don’t believe he did. Why do you ask?”
Shaking her head, Chelsea said, “Just something he said to me recently.”
Louise wasn’t at all surprised that the conversation of love had come up between John and Chelsea. When Chelsea remained in John’s life through Thanksgiving and then Christmas, Louise had become convinced John loved her just as much as she loved him. She couldn’t see them together and not be sure of it. It was really quite amusing that John had spent the past decade avoiding any relationship at all only to find himself in love with a mere child. Glancing at Chelsea, her heart filling with satisfaction over what a sweet woman loved her son in return, she patted her arm.
As well as she was getting to know Chelsea, she sensed a distinct sadness just below the surface. “What did he say?”
“He said I’m the first woman he’s ever loved.” A lump formed in her throat at the memory of that night. The pain of it had seldom left her since.
“I believe that.”
Tears pooled in Chelsea’s eyes. “It’s not enough, though,” she choked out.
Taking Chelsea’s hand, Louise hoped to console her, “Give him some time.” Claude had told her what John said about never getting married again. And if he said it, she believed it. He was not one to make rash commitments. After the way things ended with Tracy, he likely never wanted to feel what he felt when she died. The guilt and remorse nearly killed him.
“There won’t be enough time, I’m afraid.” Before she knew it, she was filling Louise in on the details of their early arrangement, then real romance, and finally their end date. She told her what John said about her deserving to grow old with someone and how she’d hoped he would change his mind. “As much as I’ve prayed that he does, I don’t think he’ll change his mind.” Admitting this aloud caused Chelsea to begin to weep. Uninhibited in Louise’s presence, she allowed her tears to flow without embarrassment.
Reaching for her, stroking her silky blond hai
r, Louise said, “He knows what it’s like to be a young widower. He doesn’t want the same for you.” Louise’s heart broke for them both. For Chelsea, she could see how devastated she was at the thought of losing John. How could she not want such a wife for her son, no matter her age? As for John, there was a strong sense of pride that washed over her just knowing he was capable of such selfless love. Never had she seen that trait in him, at least not since he was a very young man.
“You want to marry him, I suppose?”
“Of course I do. I love him more than anything, more than I ever dreamed I could love.”
Louise looked at Chelsea, forcing herself to consider her as any other young woman she might give wise counsel to. She was determined to be objective, even if John was her only son. “Chelsea, does John walk with the Lord?”
Looking away, Chelsea shook her head, saying, “No, ma’am.”
“I know you know God’s ways. Is it wise to marry a man who can’t lead you in a godly home?”
Chelsea shook her head again, but this time said nothing. For as long as she’d loved John, she had intentionally pushed such thoughts and questions away, no matter how often they danced around in her spirit.
Louise had a thought. “If John is indeed the man that God has planned for you, He will only make the way when John is ready, when he can be what you need. If you were to marry now, it may interfere with the work God needs to do in him. God needs to make John His before he can make him yours.” Chelsea’s heightened tears at such words caused Louise to cry as well. “Honey, I’m seeing something miraculous happening already. I see God working in him. His willingness to let you go because he is certain that is what is best for you, is the first example of sacrificial love that I have ever seen from him. He never loved Tracy, and I’m pretty sure she never loved him. Instead of love, they were bound by success. The only thing I’ve ever seen him sacrifice as an adult is his life to business and others to his desire for more.
“I believe his love for you is so deep, that without you, he’ll have nowhere to turn but to God. Of course God knows that, too. It’ll be John’s first step in needing Him. Up until now, he hasn’t. He’s had all he’s needed, or at least he thought so. I’ve never known a man with so much, yet so little of what matters.
“If you were to marry him now, John may never turn to the Lord, and in that case, you would have a man who loves you, but one who doesn’t love Jesus. It would never be the marriage you want, no matter what you think or how you feel. The heart lies, Chelsea. Only a heart totally surrendered to the Lord can be trusted, both yours and his.” Pulling Chelsea into her arms, Louise admitted, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but if you truly love him, you’ll have to love sacrificially, too. Don’t interfere with what God might do.”
Weeping openly, loudly, Chelsea felt her heart twisting in agony at the prospect of letting him go without a fight. It felt as if it would soon come through her skin. Of course she loved him enough to let him go, enough to give God the time He needed to work inside of John. It was never even a question after Louise raised the idea. It was more a matter of easing the anguish that such a loss would cause. What could ever fill the emptiness that would come? Even the thought of it caused her to feel as if she might collapse from within, so what might the actual letting go do to her?
Louise rose to go and get Chelsea a glass of water. In the hallway, she found John rushing toward Chelsea’s room. The anguished look on her son’s face nearly caused her to retract all the things she’d just said. If his pained expression at merely hearing Chelsea weep was any indication of what would happen when he let go of her, Louise was not so certain she could watch the future unfold without pleading with him to marry Chelsea right away.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Standing in his path, Louise’s resolve remained firm. “Give her some time. She’s doing business with the Lord.”
After his mother passed by, he stood there wondering what that meant, “doing business with the Lord.” Still he could hear Chelsea’s racking sobs, and his only thought was of going to her and of being of some comfort. Standing before her door, he reached for the doorknob but remained frozen there. If she was doing business with God, he better leave her alone, he thought. He moved to the wall near the door and leaned against it. Sliding down the wall, he sat with his knees bent and elbows resting on them. Whatever she was doing, he would wait.
In the meantime, his mother returned with a glass of water, went into the room, and then exited quietly.
“Now?” he asked.
“No. Give her some time.”
So John waited.
Sometime later, after at least a half-hour had passed, the door finally opened. He looked up and found her eyes red and swollen, but there was a surprising half-smile on her face. It wasn’t the bright smile he was accustomed to seeing, but at least she was no longer crying. Finding him sitting there seemed to cause it. When she stepped over him and slid down the wall to sit next to him, he asked, “What can I do?” He didn’t have to ask why she was crying.
Reaching for his hand, Chelsea laced her fingers through his. “Believe it or not, I’m okay. I needed a good cry, but now I’m better.”
John lifted her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckle. Looking into her big brown eyes, he whispered, “I love you so much it hurts.”
“I know, and I love you, too.” It was just as Louise said; God confirmed it in her spirit as she cried out to Him in prayer. She had to let John go. Finally, knowing it was what was best for him, she would be able to do it. Just as he was willing to let her go to give her a future, she was willing to let him go so that he might find what he needed most, more of God than he currently possessed. After that, she had to believe He would bring them back together.
Chelsea and John had been back in L.A. for just under two weeks. The winter semester had already begun, so Chelsea was covered up with schoolwork. Each night she and John spent the evening together at her place, working side by side. Since they returned, he had left work no later than six any night. As soon as he was done, he would drive to her house and they would cook dinner together. This night, though, they went out to dinner and to a reception that John was obligated to attend.
Afterward, John drove out to Santa Monica and they walked along the pier. He seemed different and had since he picked her up earlier in the evening. Quieter than usual, he was also more affectionate than she’d ever seen him. All throughout the evening he touched her hair and caressed her bare shoulders. Rarely was he involved in conversation with guests at the reception, no matter how many people tried to capture his attention. His only focus seemed to be her. She reached for his hand, saying, “You’re out of sorts tonight.”
They had stopped and were leaning against the railing overlooking the beach. It was early enough that the pier was packed with people. Banners along the railings indicated there was some sort of festival there earlier, and tons of people were still milling around, filled with excitement. It wasn’t exactly the quiet and romantic atmosphere he’d hoped for. He wanted to be alone with Chelsea but not really alone. Since he’d picked her up earlier in the evening, he could hardly keep his hands off her. Always she was beautiful, and always he desired her, but there was something different this night. With such deep longing in his heart, he could hardly trust himself to be alone with her at the condo. Though he would never try to get her into bed, he still felt it best not to be completely alone. It was safer that way.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her cheek, just below her ear. She was wearing his jacket draped over her shoulders; he found it helped to have her bare shoulders covered. With her in that little black cocktail dress, from the moment he saw her, he felt exactly as she described, out of sorts. On most occasions, he easily held himself in check, but some nights, he found he could think of little else but holding and kissing her. Grinning, he confessed, “I feel a bit crazy tonight.”
“Crazy?”
With her looki
ng up at him so innocently, for a moment John could hardly speak. Finally, he whispered, “You make me crazy.” Leaning down, he first kissed her cheek then gently trailed kisses to her lips. Sliding one hand behind her neck and the other around her waist, he drew her nearer and slowly and passionately began to kiss her. Lifting his head, breathless from the feel of her lips on his, he rested his forehead on hers. “It’s a rare moment when I feel I can hardly control myself around you. This is one of those moments.”
When he moved his fingertips to trace along her face, she reached for his hand and found it was trembling. John halfway blushed at the fact that she discovered him shaking; she moved his hand to her lips and kissed it. Looking into his eyes, she thought she caught a glimpse of what he was talking about. Never had she seen such longing in them. It seemed nearly painful for him. She had a sense, there in that moment; no one could ever possibly look at her that way again. Without him, she would never know this kind of love again.
For quite a bit longer they stayed on the pier. Once he told her he didn’t dare come up to her place, she knew that when they left the pier, she would have to let him go for the evening. So instead, hoping to extend their time together, they shared a soda and walked barefoot on the cool sand. Neither was in hurry to leave, so they simply walked and talked about little things.
Eventually, they sat together on the deserted beach. He watched as she dug her feet into the sand and began to cover them with more sand. There she was, looking so refined in that dress, yet humming softly as she played, a fusion of alluring woman and innocent child. Turning toward him, she kind of flipped her hair and grinned up at him, and instantly, he was set ablaze. He scooped her over onto his lap, and buried his face in her neck, hoarsely whispering, “I need you.” His heart burned so intensely he could hardly catch his breath. He’d never needed anyone or anything more than he needed her in that moment. There was a deep and penetrating emptiness he felt that he knew only she could fill, as if without her, he’d collapse within.
