Marianna nodded and raced to her bedroom. Megan got ready quickly. She threw on a comfortable pair of capris and a T-shirt then packed an overnight bag. By the time she grabbed a few snacks, Marianna was already waiting at the door.
The ride home was a quiet one. Megan appreciated that her sister didn’t want to talk. All she could think about was her stepfather’s lack of faith. He’d hurt her. He and her mother. But the thought of him spending eternity separated from God made her sick to her stomach. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Even Clint.
The realization sparked a notion that maybe she could forgive. Possibly God had been working on her spirit bit by bit over the years to allow her a compassion for her past boyfriend and her parents she hadn’t realized was growing.
She couldn’t say anything to Clint. Couldn’t offer forgiveness. Couldn’t share her faith. He was gone. Died before she’d had the chance to emotionally heal from what he’d done to her. But she could talk to her mom and stepdad. The only dad she’d ever known.
Marianna pulled into the hospital parking lot. A fleeting thought that they should have gotten flowers flashed through her mind. No. He didn’t need flowers. He needed Jesus. He needed a Savior before he left this life and journeyed into eternity.
Marianna parked the car and then grabbed Megan’s hand. “We need to pray.”
Megan looked at her sister. The concern etching her brows mimicked what Megan felt. Her sister shared her worry for their dad’s salvation. Megan nodded, and Marianna spoke quietly and quickly. Her sister’s fervent pleas twisted at Megan’s heart, and she knew her sister’s burning desire for her parents to know the Lord echoed her own heart’s longing. The wrong they’d done to her was nothing compared to an eternity separated from God.
Marianna finished the prayer, and they jumped out of the car and rushed inside. When they reached his room, Marianna walked right in and grabbed his hand. Megan felt glued to the floor in front of the doorway.
She hadn’t expected him to look so sick. So frail. Tubes were hooked up to him everywhere. His skin was yellow. He looked more than gaunt. It was like someone had sucked all the juices from his body and left little more than a barely breathing corpse. How had he gotten so sick so fast?
Megan made eye contact with her mother who sat on the opposite side of the bed. The woman sat like a statue. No visible signs of hurt or worry. She’d stood strong when one man chose to leave her with two small children. Megan could tell she determined to stay just as strong when another left her, even if it wasn’t by choice.
Marianna’s voice squeaked when she started to talk. “Dad, you’ve got to listen to me. I’ve been praying all the way up here. We don’t have any time to waste. You need to listen now.”
Megan couldn’t move. She’d determined to walk confidently in the room, proclaim to her stepfather his need for the Lord. To be bold in her faith. To not take no for an answer from him. To not be concerned with the pain his words had caused in the past. The ugly name he’d called her. The accusation she’d lied.
She couldn’t move.
“God loves you, Dad. The Bible says He loved you so much He sent Jesus to die for you. You believe in Jesus, don’t you, Dad?”
Marianna’s voice grew stronger with each word, and Megan’s knees weakened. She needed to be in there beside her sister. Why couldn’t she move?
“The Bible says you’ve sinned. Done wrong. You know that, too. We’ve all done things we shouldn’t have done. All of us.”
From the door, Megan watched her father’s strained nod. The pain etched across his features ripped at her stomach. Did he hurt from the cancer only or also from the realization of the sins of his life?
She still couldn’t believe he looked so sick. It had been only a few weeks since he’d sat beside her in the bridal boutique. He’d tried to talk with her, and she’d been so uncomfortable. Still, he’d said he hoped she’d get the job. She’d gotten it. She should go in and tell him. He’d want to know.
She couldn’t move.
Marianna continued. “Just tell Him here.” She touched their father’s chest. “You don’t have to say the words aloud. Just tell Him you’re sorry for the sins you’ve committed. Ask Him to come into your heart. He’ll do it, Dad. He promises He will.”
Tears filled Megan’s eyes. The man who’d raised her since she was just a tiny girl could barely breathe. He didn’t even try to speak, but she knew he heard everything Marianna said by the expressions crossing his face. He didn’t have much time.
Megan watched him so intently she hadn’t noticed her mother stood beside her. “I’m surprised you came.”
Megan startled then looked at her mother. “Why?”
Vulnerability flashed across her mother’s features. “You hate us.”
Megan furrowed her brow. She’d never seen her mother so unsure. “I don’t hate you. Either of you.”
Her mother didn’t respond. A war raged within Megan. She should tell her mother she loved her. It was true her mother hadn’t said the words since before the fight that had been etched in concrete in her mind. But God wasn’t worried about what her parents did or didn’t do. He wanted Megan to forgive. She knew it to the depths of her soul. She couldn’t move on until she did.
Her mother straightened her shoulders. She lifted her chin and bore Megan with a look of contempt. “You should have obeyed us. We knew better. And you didn’t listen. And nothing has been the same.”
Megan sucked in her breath as her mother walked back to the chair beside her husband. No mercy. No compassion. If only Megan could take back that decision to go out with Clint against her parents’ wishes. She wished to the core of her being she had listened and obeyed.
But what he did was not her fault. She’d blamed herself for too long. Spent years trying to forgive Clint and her parents.
What about yourself?
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She didn’t even try to stop them. Had she ever forgiven herself? She’d been a foolish teenager caught up in the belief that Clint was the boy of her dreams. If she’d listened, that night never would have happened. But she didn’t. She’d messed up, and she was sorry.
Closing her eyes, she thought of God’s servant David. A man after God’s own heart. He’d messed up. Badly. Had sex with Bathsheba. Got her pregnant. Then had her husband killed on the battlefield. His prayer to God after the prophet Nathan confronted him slipped from Megan’s lips, “‘Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.’ “
She opened her eyes and looked at her father lying in the hospital bed dying. Her sister sat at his side, leading him to an everlasting faith in God. Megan looked up at the ceiling and whispered, “Restore the joy of my salvation. Give me a willing spirit. Sustain me.”
Forgive herself. She’d spent years trying to forgive others, but she hadn’t realized where the forgiveness needed to start. From within.
Her feet moved. She walked to her father’s bedside. Marianna still clung to his hand. His eyes were closed. He hadn’t spoken the whole time Marianna prayed with him. But despite the labored breathing, his countenance looked at peace.
Megan placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. She looked at her mother whose expression was deader than it had been when Megan and Marianna arrived. The woman needed the Lord. How could she get through this without Him?
Megan looked back at her father. He opened his eyes and saw her. A slight smile spread across his lips. He pressed the back of his head against his pillow and sucked in a deep breath. His words came out just above a whisper. “Forgive me.”
Megan gasped as a fresh set of tears washed down her cheeks. She grabbed his hand in hers. She didn’t have to think. The words slipped from her lips with a truth that was more than she felt. “I do.”
He smiled fully and closed his eyes. Only a few more moments passed before the laboring of his lungs slowed. He took one last gasp of breath. A smile spread his lips, and he was gone.
A sob es
caped her mother’s lips and Marianna jumped up, rushed to the other side of the bed, and wrapped her arms around their mother. Despite feeling unsure about what her mother might say, Megan followed her sister and hugged her mom.
Words she hadn’t said in more than eight years spilled from her mouth. They brought healing hope, and Megan knew she meant them. “I love you, Mom.”
Chapter 17
It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Justin placed the wrapped box on Megan’s desk. He fixed the bow once more then inwardly scolded himself for acting like such a whipped pup. What reason would he have for acting that way anyhow? He was simply getting a really good secretary a going-away present. Just because she’d still be there for over a month longer, and just because he talked his father and other colleague into spending more money than either ever would have considered—it meant nothing.
His dad crossed his arms in front of his chest and lifted his left eyebrow. Justin knew that look. He found Justin’s actions humorous and ridiculous. Sneaking a peek at Mr. Combs, Justin noted the eldest lawyer of the firm seemed oblivious to everything except the homemade cinnamon bun his wife gave him each morning. One look at the man’s expanding waist, and Justin wondered how long it would be before Combs would move into the next size suit. Again.
Justin took his handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed at the water that had spilled from the flower vase onto Megan’s desk.
“Son, it looks fine.” His dad’s voice was laced with humor and a touch of something Justin couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“I know.” Justin stood to his full height and adjusted his tie.
His father studied him. “Is there something going on between you and Megan?” He lifted his hands. “Not that I mind. It’s just that I didn’t know.”
Justin shook his head. “Absolutely not. Megan is a friend. Her sister is marrying Kirk. We go to Bible study together.”
His father harrumphed. He didn’t understand Justin’s newfound faith. Justin prayed for his dad and that he would be a living example of Christ before his dad. But Justin understood his father all too well. It would take time, and a miracle, for him to see that living a life filled with money and women was no life at all.
And yet living for Christ wasn’t easy. The girl from the gym still made advances at Justin. Brandy was gorgeous, and Justin knew how a night out with her would end. He couldn’t deny the temptation. But his relationship with Christ had shown him he wanted more. He wasn’t willing to compromise for less than God’s best in his life.
The front door opened, and Justin found himself smiling at the secretary’s surprised expression. Megan’s presence stirred something within him. It was a cliché statement—one too often quoted from a popular movie from the nineties, but the truth was Megan made him want to be a better man. He wanted to be more than himself. He wanted to be all that he could be in Christ.
He wanted to be worthy of her.
The thought caught in the back of his brain. His goal had been to work on his relationship with the Lord. To abstain from women who would distract his growth. He needed to stay the course, to find what God wanted from his life.
Megan, he realized, didn’t distract his growth in the Lord, but encouraged all those good things in him. He drank in her light blond hair that fell just below her shoulders. Her deep blue eyes spoke of a depth deeper than the ocean.
When had he fallen in love with her?
She smiled as she walked toward them. Justin realized the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She bent down and sniffed the rose and daisy arrangement then picked up her card. “What’s all this?”
Justin’s father put his arm around Megan’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “You’re going-away-slash-starting-a-new-career present.”
“I haven’t even written my resignation.”
Mr. Combs swallowed the last bite of his cinnamon bun and wiped his mouth with his fingertips. “Justin told us about your job as a music teacher in the fall. We’re very proud of you.”
Her eyes glimmered, but Justin noted a small hint of sadness behind them. She hugged his dad and then Mr. Combs. She turned toward him, and Justin sucked in his breath. It was his turn. He would get a hug. Hesitation washed across her features before she halfway wrapped her arms around him and patted his back as if he were a leper whose skin was falling off and who hadn’t had a bath in weeks.
His father looked at him, and his left eyebrow rose again. It took every ounce of restraint within him not to tell his father to buzz off. He didn’t need his humor-filled, knowing glances.
Justin motioned toward the present. “Open it.”
Megan looked at each of them. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
Justin’s dad pointed at the gift. “Open it. Combs and I don’t know what we’ve done.”
Justin’s face warmed. He didn’t want her to know the whole thing had been all his idea. He definitely didn’t want her to know that left to his father and Combs, Megan would have quit with little more than her last paycheck.
Megan grinned at him. She unwrapped the gift then gasped when she realized it was a laptop.
Justin opened the box and turned on the machine. “I had the clerk install several different kinds of music software programs. Stuff I thought might help you with your new job.”
“Very nice gift.” Mr. Combs patted Justin’s back. He grabbed Megan’s hand in his. “It’s been a real pleasure having you with us. We’ll miss you when you’re gone.” He pointed to his office. “But it’s time to get to work.”
With that, he nodded and walked away.
“I have to agree.” His dad grabbed Megan in a bear hug. “You’ve been the best secretary we’ve had. I’ll miss you.” He released her and held both her arms in his grip. “I mean that.”
Justin realized he did. Megan had not only been the ideal woman for him, but she was the perfect secretary for his dad as well. He couldn’t fathom how they would ever replace her. Again, he realized how much he didn’t want to let her go. And not just as a secretary.
Megan looked up at him, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears. “I can’t believe you did this. It’s more than kind.”
With the last words, a lone tear slipped down her cheek, and Justin couldn’t stop himself. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. To his surprise, she melted into him, and he had to hold her tighter.
“Thank you, Justin.”
The sound of his whispered name from her lips sent trails of delight through him. Feelings he’d tried to hold at bay.
A moment passed, and he felt warm wetness against his chest. The gift shouldn’t cause such tears. Something else was going on. He pulled her away from him and studied her expression. “Megan, what’s wrong?”
She inhaled a long breath. “My dad died on Saturday.”
“I’m so sorry.” He pulled her to him again.
“It was hard.”
She welcomed his embrace, and he tried not to think about how perfectly she fit against him and how he wanted to always protect her from pain.
She pulled away and grabbed a tissue from her desk. “But he accepted Christ. Just before he died. Thanks to Marianna.” She dotted her eyes, and her lower lip quivered. “Our relationship was strained.”
“When’s the funeral?”
“Not until Friday. His cancer moved so fast the doctors wanted to look at …” She stopped and shook her head.
“I’ll go with you.”
She looked up at him. “You’d do that?”
Justin swallowed. Never before would he have considered attending a funeral with a woman. Doing anything for a woman that would cause even an inkling of discomfort to him. But everything changed when it came to Megan. “Absolutely.”
Megan didn’t respond. Instead, she looked at her desk and pointed to the card leaning against the flower
s. “I didn’t see the card.”
She picked it up, and Justin took it from her. “It’s probably not a good idea now.”
She cocked her head. “What is it?”
With a sigh, he handed it back to her. She opened the card and pulled out the two tickets to the Lexington Opera House. Though it was something he’d never consider doing on his own, he thought she might like to see the Southern quartet that was performing there tonight. He’d bought them on a whim. Now he wished he’d simply stuck with the laptop.
She lifted the tickets. “I’ve never heard of this group.”
Justin shrugged. “Me neither. I just figured you’d like southern music, and when I saw them, I guess …” Justin cleared his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fumbled all over himself inviting a woman out for an evening.
She smiled up at him. “I think it will be good for me. I’m assuming the second one is for you?”
Justin nodded. “I’d like to treat you to dinner as well.”
Megan bit the inside of her lip, something he realized she did anytime she wasn’t sure of a situation. She nodded. “Okay.”
Justin sucked in a deep breath. It had been a long time since he’d been so excited about a date.
Justin leaned against his new black sports car. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “That show was definitely not what I expected.”
Megan doubled over and laughed for what seemed the millionth time that night. She stood back up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Your expressions to their jokes alone were priceless.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I like Gene Autry and Roy Rogers just fine. I just hadn’t expected …”
“The quartet was a lot of fun.”
Justin nodded. He had to agree with her. Dinner had been terrific, but the show had been an unexpected surprise.
She sobered as she let out a long breath. “I needed those laughs. Thanks, Justin.”
She had no idea how much her laughter, her genuineness, drew him. She was like no other woman he’d ever met. He didn’t want to take her home for a nightcap and an awkward morning. He wanted to take her home for good. The truth of it scared him.
Wedding Song in Lexington, Kentucky Page 14
