by Lisa Heaton
Lucy was coming for Thanksgiving, and of course Tuck would bring her. What Chelsea recognized was that Lucy was desperately in need of a woman in her life besides her grandmother, so on more than one occasion, Chelsea tried to discuss it with Tuck. Always he waved her off, saying he didn’t have time for romance. From what Chelsea’s mother said, she’d never known him to date since having Lucy. And she should know; news as significant as Tuck dating would reach her mother’s ears even before he could open the car door on his first date. So for lack of a woman in Lucy’s life, Chelsea seemed to be nominated best-friend and standin mom. Secretly, she loved every minute of it. If she had a daughter of her own someday, her hope was that she would be just like Lucy. They shared some unusual bond that Chelsea could never quite grasp herself, let alone try to explain to her curious mother. Eventually, after months of an inordinate amount of time together, her family simply expected Lucy to be with Chelsea for family dinners. Many times Tuck joined them there too.
On Thanksgiving Day, Chelsea’s family was there early, so when Tuck, Lucy, and his mother arrived, no one was surprised. Enough talk had been going around town and church that they were back together. Most everyone was excited to hear it. Chelsea tried to stifle the rumor, but no one listened. While alone with Tuck, on more than one occasion, she made her feelings very clear and he assured her he understood. But she did love being with him and Lucy, and if things were different, she could easily see becoming a part of their family. As much as she once avoided it, being with them was just as natural as being with her own family. Ultimately though, no matter how much sense they made, her heart would always belong to John. If there was anything she was sure of, it was that.
Once they were all seated and the blessing said, she could hardly eat for missing John. Memories of their past Thanksgiving together hovered over her like a cold mist. She was confronted with an assault on her mind and heart that she could hardly bear. Recalling how she finally stood up to her family and how proud John was of her in that moment brought tears to her eyes. Quickly she rose, saying, “I better check the rolls,” and rushed into the kitchen.
Her mother, right on her heels, said, “There are no rolls in the oven.” She knew exactly what was going through Chelsea’s mind and heart. Since she was the only one who knew what really happened between John and Chelsea, and had been sworn to secrecy, Gail often saw pain in Chelsea’s eyes that others failed to detect. While everyone else speculated about her and Tuck, Gail knew better. What Chelsea felt for John was beyond any ordinary love, and certainly not one that would be so easily overcome. Always she knew it was pure lovesickness that kept Chelsea in bed those first weeks. And she knew it was missing John that caused her to jump from the table and run into the kitchen. After such a crushing breakup with Tuck, Chelsea deserved so much more than another broken heart. Yet there she stood, tears threatening to spill over her lashes while trying to pretend she was not teetering on the edge of an emotional breakdown.
Chelsea moved to the sink and began scrubbing a pot. “I will be out in a minute. Go eat. Really, I’ll be fine.” No matter her assurance to her mother, she knew it was far from the truth. Anticipation of the holidays had brought with it dread of facing them without John, and based on what happened at the dinner table, she had to believe it was only the beginning of more heartbreaking moments to come, many more.
Moving near her daughter, Gail whispered, “I’ll believe with you that he’ll come. Maybe if we both hope, he’ll come sooner.” Having seen the way John looked at Chelsea at Thanksgiving, and especially during Christmas, she knew he was as in love with her as she was with him. What they had was real and deep and meaningful. Not once had she considered the possibility that John was using Chelsea simply because she was young and beautiful. Standing in the home he purchased for her, knowing all the other things he’d done for her and her family, the proof of his love was secured deep into Gail’s spirit.
Turning, Chelsea fell into her mother’s arms. “I’m afraid he is alone for Thanksgiving. I’m even more afraid he’s not alone.”
Gail understood. Immediately she prayed for them both, that if God willed them together, then may it be sooner rather than later.
Tuck stood in the doorway, hearing Chelsea voice her fears. He found it to be one of those hanging by a thread moments for him. At times his faith in God’s promise was strong and secure, at others, moments like this, he could barely hang on. As sorry for her as he was for himself, he turned and went back out with the others. He knew exactly how she felt. Waiting was the worst.
John scooped helping after helping of potatoes onto each tray as the men passed before him. For every face that accompanied a tray, John tried to commit it to memory. After Thanksgiving passed, some faces would return and some would not, but for those who did, he wanted to make sure to remember them so that he could strike up a conversation. Over the past two months he’d been to the Harvest House to help feed the homeless at least a dozen times. No one there knew who he was or that he provided most all the food. On his first visit, he simply introduced himself as John and said he was there to help. Since then, he’d done most jobs around the kitchen, even scrubbing pots, which he found the most tedious. His favorite by far was serving. It gave him the opportunity to get to know the men. Most times, he attended the weekly preaching that was conducted by various pastors from churches around the city.
After his birthday, he did begin to read his Bible just as Chelsea had asked of him. At first, it was purely out of love for her that he did so, but soon enough, he started to feel something, a hunger to read more. It was certainly not overnight, but much of what he read became new to him. While he had read every story before in his younger years, as familiar as some of them were, he was seeing many of them with new eyes. The eyes and mind of a young man had little in the way of discernment or experience, but as an older man, he saw many truths in a different light. As if illuminated for him in a way like never before, a story that he could have told from memory became something that would touch his heart or sometimes cause a stirring of conviction within him.
In early October, after reading that Jesus made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, John went to the Harvest House, determined to see what it felt like to make himself a servant. From the very first moment he was hooked. Over the weeks, he’d gotten to know many of the men and a variety of their stories. It was after the first week that he began to fund a program to help some of the men with alcohol recovery. Recalling how he’d turned to alcohol after Tracy died, he realized he could have easily become an alcoholic himself. He was only a step away from it when he finally put the stuff away. So his heart was filled with a surprising level of compassion for each man who battled the addiction. Their stories of loss of families and homes gave him a desire to see their lives restored. Once, Chelsea told him that what children need are parents who can parent. Without question, if he could help any of these men during recovery, the implications for their families would be monumental. This, too, he did through the company, keeping himself and his connection with Keller Industries under wraps.
So far, he’d not even told Mark what he was up to, though Mark knew something was different about him. Since he had been going to church regularly, he was slowly becoming less angry. The anger was not gone completely, but it was subsiding. Neither was the emptiness he felt over losing Chelsea. It was still a deep burning sensation within his chest. After so many months apart, he had expected some kind of relief, but it never came. Noticeable to others, he was less driven at work, especially since volunteering at the Harvest House. Irene commented on it on many occasions, asking where he was spending his time. He never told her. In the past two months he traveled less too. Shifting his focus from work to God and others brought about a surprising new quality in him, humility.
This Thanksgiving Day, as much time as he spent focused on the faces he encountered, he spent the equivalent amount of time thinking of Chelsea. He knew she was with her family, and h
e couldn’t help but wonder if Tuck was there with her. It had been seven months since they split, quite enough time for Tuck to make his move. And how could John blame him? Clearly Tuck was a stand-up guy. Even at such a young age he made an extraordinarily difficult decision based on what he knew to be right. Sure, he was the one who messed up to begin with, but at least he took on the responsibility of his child. John occasionally prayed for Chelsea to open her heart to Tuck again, only occasionally because he had to be in the right frame of mind to force such a prayer to cross his lips. More often than not, fear that she would love Tuck again caused the burning in his chest to grow stronger. Some nights his chest hurt so badly, he wondered if maybe he was experiencing heart problems. Once, tempted to go to the emergency room, he decided against it and by morning felt a little better, leading him to believe his only heart issue was simply that it was broken beyond repair.
By the end of the evening, after every man was served and the worship time concluded, John was off to the airport to fly out to his parents’ house. They all agreed on a day’s delay in Thanksgiving, and his parents were happy enough that he would be joining them that they had no problem with waiting.
Though he hadn’t been home since his birthday, he called often. Most times, he talked to his dad about something he was reading in the Bible. Since he knew no one at the church yet, and wasn’t exactly eager to get to know people, he turned his questions to his dad. Always, his dad either knew the answer or said he’d pray about it and get back to him. In the past months, he developed a deeper level of respect for his dad and a connection with him they hadn’t known since John left home. Things that once seemed trivial to him had suddenly become more important, and his dad seemed to be the expert on them. John could only regret that he’d not known this side of his dad over the years. It was certainly his loss, as his dad was a wise and godly man.
Once he was home and settled into his room, John was just about to go downstairs to visit with his mother. For some reason, though, likely the heartburn he felt at the moment, he went to the room Chelsea had stayed in and cracked the door open. When he closed his eyes he could hear her weeping, doing business with God. He still wondered what that meant. At least now he knew that it actually meant prayer, but he wondered for what specifically she prayed. Did she pray that he would change his mind? Even the possibility caused him to want to call her and beg her to come back to him. For some reason, though, he didn’t believe that was it. If it would have been, he would have seen hope or expectation in her eyes. Instead, when she came out and sat with him, there was more of a look of resignation in them. From then forward, it was as if they were already over in her heart. He sensed it.
Closing the door, he leaned his head on the wooden frame and whispered, “Lord, whatever she prayed for, I pray it, too.” There was something about those words that gripped his heart like a vice, and in that moment, he could neither inhale nor exhale. It was different than what he called tremors of something coming. It was more like the arrival of something, and whatever it was, it gave him the first moment’s peace he’d known in over a year. Since knowing Chelsea, especially since discovering how much he’d come to love her, he had known not one minute of peace, not one. Even when he was his happiest with her, there was no peace. Technically, he had come to equate loving her with chaos and upheaval. After she came into his life, nothing was the same, and finally he realized, it never would be again. He became a different man because of her, and since losing her, he was changing still. Small parts of him were better than before, much better, and he wished she knew him now, this new him that was emerging.
The following day, after lunch, John and his dad rode out to John’s ranch. Once alone, his dad asked many questions; especially what he was reading and learning. John must have answered him satisfactorily, because his dad seemed content. When they were on the way home, John asked a question that had always plagued him.
“Dad, how has this always been enough for you? I know you flew in the Air Force and often said you wished you could’ve traveled more. So why did you settle for this life?”
Not too awfully surprised by the question, Claude scratched his chin, pondering how best to answer. Ever since John was just a young man, Claude sensed it was a question that was ever on the tip of his tongue, yet he’d never dared to ask it before. “Well, for one thing, your mama was here waiting. Then soon enough, you came along. I had the ranch to run and a family to feed. I s’pose I really didn’t think about such things as enough. I don’t guess I had to; you two were enough for me. Still are.”
Feeling ashamed of how he had looked down on him for so many years, for the first time, John understood that it was never lack of drive or ambition that pacified his dad, but rather love that satisfied him. They, his family, were what drove him. His love for them kept him going, even though he missed out on things that mattered to him. There was John, fifty years old, and the first time he ever loved anyone was just a year before. And in that love he was a complete failure, every aspect of it. Because he failed to prevent himself from loving her, or more accurately, allowed things to develop as they did, he hurt Chelsea. So technically who was the better man? There was no comparison; the better man was definitely his father.
“I honestly didn’t know how selfish I was being with Chelsea at the time. Well, until you pointed it out.” John grinned wryly at his dad. “But even after you did, I was too selfish to walk away earlier. I should have. At least that would have saved her some of what I’ve put her through.”
“Who said anything about walking away? I meant you ought to marry her.”
“That would hardly be fair to her.” One night, alone at the office, he called his dad, just to hear a familiar voice. Within a few moments, John found he was spilling the entire story to his father, even their inappropriate beginning.
“I think it was hardly fair to her either that you broke her heart.” Claude knew enough from Louise that Chelsea was completely devoted to John, so much so that she was willing to let him go if it was what was best for him, spiritually speaking.
John fell silent. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
“Son, if you would have married her, well, this new man I’m talking to, you would have loved her until your last breath. That would have been enough for her. Who’s to say she’ll ever find someone to love her the way you do? Who’s to say she’ll ever love again like she loves you? Seems to me you took her voice away in the matter? That was what was unfair. You should have allowed her to decide. But like everything else, you thought you knew better.” Claude reached for John’s wrist. Squeezing it, he assured him, “Son, you’re a smart man, but you don’t always know better.”
Thinking of all the things his father said, John camped most on the fact that he had taken her voice away. From the very beginning, that was what he said he wanted to help her find, her voice. Each time she’d spoken up or out on any matter, he found he was so proud of her. But when it really mattered, he gave her no opportunity to tell him what she wanted or felt. That day at the beach, he guilted her into promising to let him walk away.
The more he thought of what his father said, one thing puzzled him. “What do you mean, if I was this new man?”
“I mean the man who is at least seeking God. The man you were before didn’t deserve her. I realize how harsh that sounds, but the truth is, a girl like her deserves a godly husband, one who believes what she believes. You were not that man then.” Reaching out, patting John’s shoulder, he added, “I see you gettin’ there though.” Not one to normally be caught up by such sentiment, Claude’s eyes filled with tears. Just the thought of John setting out to find God was enough to allow him to die a happy man. Over the years, he’d come to doubt he would ever see such a thing.
As were most of John’s nights, this night was fitful at best. Finally, sitting up on the side of the bed, he moved another few feet, coming to rest on the floor. On his knees for the first time he could recall since being a small child, he asked a
simple question. “I was never good enough, was I?” For a moment more he knelt and then added, “No wonder I had to give her up.” John could clearly recall the moment he heard the voice of God within him. It was the first night he spent with her family at Thanksgiving, almost exactly one year before. Just after her dad said if Chelsea married him, she would have a geriatric husband and would become a young widow, John clearly heard in his heart, “She deserves better.” It was one of the most defining moments of his life. If God had ever spoken to him before, he’d missed it. But that night, he was certain it was the voice of God. And from that moment on, even though he wavered on occasion, he knew he would eventually have to give her up.
In that moment, there on his knees, John finally grasped the source of his lingering anger. It was never that Chelsea deserved better, in the sense that she should marry a younger man as he believed it to mean at the time. Instead, it was that she deserved a better man entirely. Once again, he found himself not good enough; that was what had so infuriated him. The one thing he had set out in life to prove was that he was good enough, but he found the one circumstance where he would never be. And it was the one thing that mattered most to him.
Even more so than she anticipated, the holidays proved to be terribly lonesome, even while surrounded by so many people who cared for her. The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas dragged by excruciatingly slowly. All she wanted was for it to be over. Everyone around her was excited and busy, but she intentionally shut herself off from all the festivities. Her family was concerned, especially her mother. Tuck and Lucy often stopped by unannounced, but most often Chelsea wasn’t up for company, so after visiting for a few minutes, she would make an excuse about having something else to do and send them on their way. It was never a lie; she did have something else to do, sleep. Just as when she came home from L.A., she slept her heartbreak away. It was hours of blissful release to close her eyes and wake only to find an afternoon was gone and it was close to actual bedtime, which brought with it eight to ten more hours of relief.
