by Irene Hannon
Jared’s grandmother looked at the three people sitting across from her on the sofa, waiting for her decision. If two strangers were willing to go out of their way to give her boy the chance she’d always prayed for, how could she refuse their appeal to make one more attempt to contact Dara? Maybe her sister would rebuff her again. But maybe, just maybe, she’d listen this time. And with God’s help, they might even be able to recapture the closeness they’d once shared. Its absence had been a great sorrow in Grace’s life. Perhaps the woman from the Chronicle was right, and Dara’s attitude had changed. But even if it hadn’t, she couldn’t argue with Caroline James’s other comment. She didn’t have anything to lose by trying.
With sudden resolve, Grace clutched her Bible to her chest and took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll give my sister a call.”
As she voiced her decision, the looks of elation on the three faces across from her were almost enough reward in themselves.
Chapter Eight
“That was a very generous offer you made to Jared.”
As David merged into the traffic on the highway and headed west, he risked a quick glance at Caroline. “I want him to succeed. That seemed like the only way to make it happen.”
“Most people wouldn’t make such a personal investment.”
A rueful look settled over his face. “Nor does the board encourage it. This whole business with Jared has been risky from day one.”
“Yet you’re willing to take a chance on him.”
“Yeah. And for a guy who’s been risk-averse most of his life, it’s a bit unsettling. But I think Jared has a lot to offer, and I’d hate to see his talent go to waste. I assume that’s why you’re taking a chance on him, too.”
When she didn’t respond, David sent her an inquisitive look. She was staring out the front window, her face troubled. “What’s wrong?”
At his comment, she turned toward him. “I wish my motivations were that selfless. He is a very gifted writer and photographer, and I’d like to help him find his calling. But I also keep thinking about Michael, how a mentor helped him get his act together and develop his talent. And how Michael always wanted to pay back that kindness by doing the same for another young person. I guess, in a way, I feel like I need to do this for Michael, as a final tribute. And as an atonement for the part I played in his death.”
Her voice choked on the last word, and without stopping to think, David removed one hand from the wheel and reached over to touch her cheek. She turned to him in surprise, and he found his hand cupping her chin, her skin smooth and silky against his fingers.
Clearing his throat, he retrieved his hand and transferred it to the wheel, curling his fingers around it in a tight, steadying grip. “I feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice a bit rough around the edges. “I guess neither of us has purely altruistic motives.”
After that unexpected touch, it took her a second to refocus. “I—I suppose the important thing is that good may come out of it. And I think Michael would be pleased, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. Jared’s exactly the kind of kid he would have chosen to help if he’d had the opportunity.”
“Do you think his grandmother will have any luck with her sister?”
“Hard to say, since we don’t know what prompted the falling-out.” He consulted his watch. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I just grabbed a doughnut this morning at the meeting. Can I interest you in some lunch?”
The man was full of surprises today, Caroline thought, taken aback by the suggestion. She turned to him, noting the strong chin, the firm lips, the well-shaped nose revealed in profile. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he and Michael were brothers. There was little physical resemblance. And their personalities were just as different. Michael had crackled with energy, infusing those he met with excitement and enthusiasm. David was more steady, more solid, instilling trust and confidence in everyone around him. Michael had lived on the edge, carrying a whiff of danger with him; David resided on a firm foundation, and he made people feel safe and protected.
After their first meeting weeks before, Caroline had vowed to cut all ties to David. Being with him had dredged up unhappy memories and resentments. But as their paths had begun to cross—and would continue to cross throughout the summer if Jared ended up participating in Uplink—she’d come to see his warm, compassionate, caring side. And as she’d witnessed his deep faith and integrity, she’d found herself not just enduring his company, as she’d expected, but enjoying it.
So the idea of sharing lunch with him held a certain appeal. Besides, it might also give her a chance to ask a few questions about the rift between the two brothers, as her mother has suggested. Already her perspective on that had shifted, and she had a feeling that if she heard David’s side of the story it might shift even more. For reasons she didn’t quite understand, she was beginning to hope it would.
When the silence between them lengthened, David flicked her an amused glance. “If it’s taking you that long to decide, you must not be as hungry as I am.”
With a start, she forced her thoughts back to the present. And made her decision. “As a matter of fact, I am. Lunch would be nice. Thanks.”
For a brief instant, David seemed as surprised by her acceptance as she’d been by the invitation, but he recovered quickly. “Great. Any suggestions on a place? I’m too new in town to know the good spots yet.”
“How about Café Provençal, in Kirkwood? They have a great patio and the weather is perfect today for outdoor dining.”
“Sounds good. But you’ll have to direct me.”
She did so, and once seated at a wrought-iron table under the large awning, he nodded his approval. “I like this. Do you come here often?”
“No. I’ve been here for dinner a few times. But it’s more of a special-occasion place at night. During the day, it’s pretty casual.”
“I don’t know. I think a special-occasion place is defined more by the company than the ambiance.”
His tone was conversational, but something in his eyes sent an odd tingle up her spine. Caroline was saved from having to respond by the appearance of the waitress, who recited the list of specials. As she departed, a man about David’s age, dressed in khakis and a golf shirt, rose from a nearby table and walked over to them.
“David? I thought that was you.”
At the greeting, David turned in surprise. Then he smiled and rose, extending his hand. “Chuck Williams! What are you doing here?”
“I’m on vacation, visiting my wife’s family.” He gestured toward a table in the corner, where an attractive woman was seated with an older couple.
“Chuck, this is Caroline James. Caroline, Chuck was an associate of mine at my old firm in Chicago until he switched companies about a year ago.”
After they exchanged a few pleasantries, Chuck turned his attention back to David. “So what are you doing in St. Louis?”
“I took a job here with a nonprofit organization almost six months ago.”
“No kidding? When you turned down that fabulous offer in New York right before I left because you didn’t want to disrupt your mom’s life by moving her again, I figured you’d be in Chicago forever. How is she?”
“She passed away a year ago. Not long after you left.”
Sympathy suffused the man’s face. “I’m so sorry, David. That had to be tough. I know how much she meant to you. And what great care you gave her.”
“Thanks. It’s been hard. But I have a new life now, doing something I love. It seems all things work toward God’s plan.”
“Well, I’m happy for you, then.” He turned back to Caroline. “It was nice to meet you. And good luck with the new job,” he told David.
“Thanks.”
As the man returned to his table and David took his seat agai
n, Caroline reached for her water glass, trying to buy herself a few seconds to digest the information she’d just heard. David had turned down a major promotion in order to remain in Chicago because he had felt it was in his mother’s best interest. It was yet another piece of information confirming that David hadn’t been selfish in his decision to put their mother in a nursing facility, as Michael had thought.
“You look a bit pensive.”
At David’s comment, Caroline tried for a smile. “I was just thinking about Michael.” That was true. Sort of. And it might give her an indirect avenue to ask the questions that were on her mind.
“Anything in particular?”
“About his passion for life. And his spontaneity. And how much he cared for the people he loved.”
“Yeah. I agree. I always admired him for his loyalty and his willingness to embrace life without agonizing over every little decision. I had a case of hero worship for him ever since I was a little kid. He always seemed larger than life, somehow. I tried to emulate him, but we were just too different. He was athletic, I was academic. He was the daredevil type, always looking for adventure, while I was the cautious one. Even though I sometimes cringed at his recklessness, I couldn’t help but admire his fearlessness.” A smile touched his lips, and the firm planes of his face softened in recollection. “I remember one time, when he was about ten or eleven, he was convinced that he could jump from the roof of our garage to the roof of the toolshed next door. So he put on his superhero cape and climbed up on the roof—a feat which, in and of itself, seemed incredibly brave to me at the time. Then he proceeded to attempt the jump.”
“What happened?”
“We all took a trip to the emergency room while he got a dozen stitches in his chin.” David chuckled and shook his head. “The whole incident seemed to bother us a lot more than it bothered him. By the next day, he was ready to try it again. And he would have, too, if my dad hadn’t threatened to pull him out of soccer if he did.”
That sounded like Michael, Caroline reflected, her own lips turning up into a wistful smile. “Well, you may have had a case of hero worship, but Michael also had great admiration and respect for you. He was always bragging about his little brother.”
That was news to David. Michael had never been the type to give voice to those kinds of thoughts. At least not to him. The love between them had been strong, but not often verbalized. “Thanks for telling me that. It means a lot. And that’s another way that Michael reminds me of Jared. Verbal communication wasn’t his strong suit.”
Caroline gave David a surprised look. “I thought he was very good with words.”
“Maybe he was with you. At least, I hope he was. An engaged woman has a right to hear what’s in the heart of the man she loves. But with most people, Michael kept his feelings to himself. He might have been willing to take chances physically, like the day he jumped off the garage roof, but he was a lot more cautious about sharing what was in his heart. That’s why it was difficult to talk to him about the situation with Mom.”
A perfect opening, Caroline thought. But she needed to proceed with caution. “He was very upset about that,” she ventured.
“I know. We both let anger get in the way of communication. I’m sorry we never resolved our differences. I’ll regret that until the day I die.”
With the tip of her finger, Caroline traced the trail of a drop of condensation down her glass, thinking how much it looked like a tear. When she spoke, her voice was soft and tinged with melancholy. “I have to admit that I resented you for a long time after Michael died. I felt that your argument with him was on his mind that day in the marketplace, that maybe it distracted him and made him less alert than usual. That if he’d been focused on the situation, he might have noticed something awry and stayed out of harm’s way. The fact is, though, suicide bombers don’t often tip their hands.”
“Maybe not. But I’ve always felt guilty about it, anyway. Still, I don’t know what I’d do differently. When you visited at Christmas, Mom had a couple of good days. But right after that, she went downhill so fast that even I had a hard time believing it. And it had to be much more difficult for Michael to grasp the extent and swiftness of her decline from thousands of miles away. Within weeks, I was afraid to leave her alone for even a few minutes. Once, on a Saturday, I left her in the kitchen for less than three minutes and came back to find that she’d turned on all the burners on the stove and put empty pots on each one. Another time, I took her to church and when I stopped to talk with a friend, she disappeared. Ten frantic minutes later I found her wandering down the middle of the street.”
Taking a deep breath, David raked his fingers through his hair. “To make matters worse, I was having a harder and harder time finding reliable help during the day. Since night help was even more difficult to arrange, I started sleeping at her house. I cut down on my business trips as much as I could, because it was almost impossible to find anyone to stay with her for extended periods. I know Michael wanted me to wait until you came home for the wedding before taking any action, but there was no way I could do that. I didn’t want to break our promise to Mom any more than he did, but for her own sake, she needed round-the-clock supervision. There just wasn’t any other option. Michael wouldn’t—or couldn’t—accept that. And, to be honest, I resented him for abdicating his responsibility in dealing with the issue. He left it all to me, then got angry when I addressed the problem. It was a bad situation all around.”
As Caroline listened to David’s explanation, her heart began to ache for him. Until now, she’d never realized the weight of the burden he’d carried. It also became clear to her that despite Michael’s angry assessment, David’s decision hadn’t been arbitrary. It had been born out of necessity. Distance had insulated Michael from the harsh reality of their mother’s condition. And perhaps he simply hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, as David had implied. It was hard to come to grips with breaking a promise to someone you loved, even if it was in their best interest. Yet David had had the courage to do that, to handle the heart-wrenching situation alone in a way that reflected deep love and great integrity. Earlier in the day she’d admired his generosity for the offer he’d made to Jared’s grandmother. Now her admiration grew yet again. Respect and esteem for this special man filled her heart, easing out any lingering resentment.
The waitress delivered their food then, and Caroline searched for an appropriate response to David’s story. She settled for something simple. Reaching over, she laid her hand on his. “Thank you for sharing that with me, David. It gives me a different perspective on the whole situation.”
Startled by her touch, David looked at her—and his lungs stopped working. In her hazel eyes he saw kindness and caring and empathy—and no trace of the wariness or resentment that had lurked in their depths until today. For the first time she was seeing him as a unique person—not as a future brother-in-law, not as an enemy, not as a business associate. But as David Sloan, the man. The individual. And it just about did him in.
Swallowing, he dropped his gaze to her slender fingers, delicate and pale against his sun-browned hand. And a sudden yearning swept over him—a yearning to touch her, to hold her, to let her warmth fill his life and chase away the loneliness that had plagued him for the past couple of years, when his first sight of her had awakened a hunger in him for all the things he’d been missing by putting love on the back burner.
As she removed her hand and turned her attention to her lunch, David forced himself to do the same. But he knew that the hunger inside him, the empty place in his heart, could never be satisfied by the chicken salad sandwich on his plate.
* * *
Grace Morris reached for the phone, then let her hand drop back to her lap. She’d had to do a lot of hard things in her life. Bury her husband. Watch her one child, her beloved daughter, die of a drug overdose. Do menial, physical work that left her bone-weary
. Raise her grandson alone. But calling Dara ranked right up near the top.
Reaching for her Bible, as she had during many of the hard times, Grace opened it to Matthew, to the passage that had given her comfort and sustained her in her darkest days. Once more she read the familiar words. “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart—and you will find rest for your souls.”
Closing her eyes, Grace added her own prayer. Lord, please help Dara find it in her heart to understand. Please help her to see the truth, to know that I love her and would never do anything to hurt her. Help us to be sisters again. But even if that can’t be, please fill her heart with compassion for Jared so that he can have a better life. Amen.
Once more, Grace reached for the phone. This time she tapped in the number. Though her hand was trembling, she felt steadier inside, her courage bolstered by her prayer. When her sister answered on the third ring, she forced the words past her tight throat.
“Dara? It’s Grace.” Holding her breath, Grace waited for a response, praying that it wouldn’t be just a hang-up. Please, Lord, at least let her talk to me.
Several seconds of shocked silence passed. But at last the other woman spoke in a cautious voice. “Hello, Grace.”
“Thank you for not hanging up on me.”
“I’ve gotten past that, I guess.”
That was a good start, Grace thought. “It’s been a long time since we talked.”
“Yes. It has.”
“I’m sorry for all the misunderstanding between us. I’ve missed having a sister.”
After a few seconds, Dara responded. “I have, too.” Her quiet admission surprised Grace. As did her next comment. “I even thought about calling you once or twice. But I could never bring myself to do it. The fact is, I should never have gotten angry at you. It was just easier, somehow, to blame you than to accept the fact that George was...that he wasn’t the most faithful husband.”
