Peter took hesitant steps toward the bathroom and found a roll of paper towels. The mess on his bed had to be cleaned up before he could try again to sleep. He shuddered as he swept the wet, disintegrating pills into a paper towel and threw them into the trash can. If they’d made it down his throat, he’d be dead by now. And what sort of example would that be for Maddie and Hayley?
His body was still calm, not shaking, so he had no reason to take a normal dose of pills. His next fix could wait until morning. Instead he washed his hands, climbed into bed again, and turned off the light.
When he blinked his eyes open the next morning he stared at the ceiling and tried to make sense of the thoughts in his head. Some kind of nightmare, maybe—that had to be it. Strange voices and tree branches scratching against his window. Whatever had been going on, it had all been a crazy dream. But as sleep wore off, the images grew more vivid, the bottle of pills, the strange evil voice countered by the intense, peaceful whispers. The half-empty bottle of pills on his bedside table and the mess in his bathroom trash can.
It hadn’t been a dream after all; it had been real and true, and except for a strange twist of fate he should be dead. He pressed his head back into the pillow. Something else had carried over from the night before. He was still missing Brooke and the girls, wanting them as if his next heartbeat depended on their place in his life, wishing with all his soul that they were in the next room, making breakfast and waiting for him to join them.
And then there was the strangest thing of all.
It was time for a fix, but he wasn’t shaking or anxious or in any kind of pain except one.
The hurt of missing his girls.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Christmas Eve Day in Manhattan dawned like something from a dream, and Ashley wanted to set up an easel and start painting it. Snow had stopped falling just after midnight, and by morning, sunshine shone across Manhattan, streaking down between the buildings and casting splashes of white and silver on the snowy ground.
Ashley stood at the window and studied the scene while she waited for Brooke to finish dressing Maddie. They should be leaving now, heading out for their meeting with Reagan and her mother, but Ashley couldn’t bear to walk away from the window.
Then she had an idea. She zipped across the room to her bag and pulled out her camera. Before a minute passed, she’d captured the scene a dozen times, all from slightly different angles.
“To help jog my memory,” she told Brooke, “when I sit down next week and try to re-create it on canvas.”
“Now you’ll have enough pictures for three paintings.” Brooke grinned and brushed the wrinkles out of her silk blouse. “Let’s go.”
That morning’s meeting had been planned for weeks.
Reagan had asked if Ashley and Kari and Brooke and their mother would meet with her and her mother at their home the morning of the wedding.
“You can each share your favorite Scripture with me, and the reason why it’s helped you in marriage or in life. Maybe share a story, something that will help me be a better wife to Luke or a better mother to Tommy.” Excitement had filled Reagan’s voice when she told the others about her idea. “Then I’d like you to pray for me and Luke, that we’ll always put God first and that we’ll find a way to grow stronger, more in love, as time goes on.”
At the same time, Luke planned to come to the Marriott and meet with their father and Sam and Ryan. The kids would stay with the women, and they’d all meet up again for a late lunch and to get ready for the six-o’clock wedding.
Ashley loved everything about the morning plan. Prayers and special Bible verses seemed so much more meaningful than anything else they could have done hours before the wedding. It was something she would’ve wanted to do if she and Landon had been able to move on with their plans, if her blood test had been negative.
Because it took more effort to transport Hayley, Ashley and Brooke and the children started out earlier than the others and were the first to arrive at Mrs. Decker’s apartment. Reagan answered the door, and Ashley could almost feel the warmth from her glow.
They talked for a few minutes about the snow and the wedding, and then Brooke excused herself to get Hayley set up at the far side of the room in her special stroller, where she could eat and watch the happenings around her. Unless she got fussy, at which point Brooke would have to prepare a dose of medicine for her and lay her in one of the back bedrooms.
Cole and Maddie stood nearby, watching Brooke work with Hayley, moving her limp arms and fastening the belt around her waist. Ashley was about to go to the children, offer them some other activity, when Reagan’s mother appeared from the kitchen. She smiled at Cole and Maddie. “Okay, you two, follow me! I have coloring books, crayons, and a movie all ready!”
Their eyes lit up and they started after her, but then Cole stopped and looked at Hayley. “You can come, too, Hayley.” His eyes lifted to Brooke. “Can Hayley come with us? She loves to color.”
Ashley looked at Brooke and winced. Very few times did her sister allow the pain of Hayley’s situation to show in her eyes. But in light of Cole’s innocent question, this was one of them. She walked up to Cole, tousled his hair, and gave him a sad smile. “Not today, honey. But one of these days I’m sure she’d love to join you.”
“Yeah,” Maddie looked at Cole. “Hayley’s different now.”
“Oh.” Cole looked from Maddie and Brooke back to his cousin strapped in the chair. “I think she’s the same old funny Hayley.” He took a few running steps toward her and patted her head. “I’ll color you a picture, Hayley, okay?”
Hayley opened her mouth and made a sound that seemed part moan, part laugh.
“Okay.” Cole nodded his head and looked at the others. “Hayley said she wants me to color her a Christmas tree.”
“Thank you, Cole.” Brooke kissed him on the top of his head. “She’d like that very much.”
Cole nodded, grabbed Maddie’s hand, and skipped to catch up to Reagan’s mother. Ashley caught Brooke’s eye and understood the momentary pain there. No matter how well Hayley was doing, it was still heartbreaking to hear her big sister call her “different.”
Ashley sat on the living-room sofa next to Reagan and shifted her thoughts to the reason they were gathered this morning. No question her future sister-in-law was glowing. Whatever her dress looked like, however she styled her hair and did her makeup, nothing about her would rival her eyes today. Because in them, without a doubt, was the look of love and certainty and commitment.
The glow of a woman about to promise her life to the man of her dreams.
“You look beautiful.” Ashley took Reagan’s hand and gave it a tender squeeze. “Are you nervous?”
“No.” A blush came over Reagan’s cheeks. “I’ve been in love with your brother for a long time, Ashley. You know that.” She paused, searching Ashley’s face. “But before the day gets busier, I want to thank you.”
Ashley gave a slight shake of her head. “For what?”
“For telling Luke about Tommy.” She lowered her chin, her eyes dancing in the glow of Christmas lights from the nearby tree. “I sometimes wonder if we’d be together now if you hadn’t said anything.”
“You would’ve told him someday.”
“That’s just it; I kept finding reasons to wait because I was sure he wouldn’t want anything to do with either of us—not based on his life at the time and the fact that he was living with that other girl.” Reagan shrugged. “I might’ve waited years.”
“I guess.” Ashley thought of Luke, the way they’d been when they were children. “Luke is special to me.”
“Yes.”
Ashley felt warm at the thought. “I guess it was only right that I played a small part in all of this.”
The doorbell rang and Reagan excused herself. She greeted Kari and Erin and their mother. The group stayed by the door, chatting about the events of the day.
Ashley looked at the Christmas tree, at the star nestled
on top, and closed her eyes. God, I went out on a limb that day, telling Luke about Reagan and Tommy, but you led the way. And now . . . I’m awed at your faithfulness. Bringing Luke back . . . using me to bring the two of them together. It’s amazing, and it’s all you, God . . . but thanks for using me in the process.
Everyone had arrived, and Reagan’s mother pulled several chairs into a circle in the living room. When everyone was seated, Anne Decker explained again what they were doing, and then she offered to go first. She had her Bible on her lap, and she took a piece of paper from inside it.
“The verse I want to share with Reagan is one I’ve shared with her since she was a little girl.” Anne gave Reagan a smile that spoke of days gone by. She shifted her gaze to the others. “We raised Reagan with an understanding of Scripture, and from her baby days, her father and I prayed over her.”
Ashley watched the woman, mesmerized. How difficult the events of the past year must have been on her, yet clearly she’d come out stronger. A woman of faith had no other choice.
Anne Decker’s eyes shone and she looked at Reagan again. “The verse is your favorite, honey. Jeremiah 29:11. ‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ ” Reagan’s mother took a tissue from a box beside her chair and pressed it to the corners of her eyes. She gave a single laugh and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I told myself I’d at least get through the morning without crying.”
When she was more composed, she looked at Reagan again. “Your father and I prayed that verse over you several times a week from the day you were born, Reagan. And always we believed it was true, especially after you brought home a certain nice young man a year ago this past summer.
“Your father took the two of you to his office in the twin towers, and later that night, after the four of us went out, he told me he had a feeling about Luke.” She looked at Ashley’s mother. “That Luke was a kind young man, one who must’ve come from a good family.”
Reagan angled her head, clearly touched by her mother’s story. “I never knew that.”
“He didn’t want you to know.” Anne smiled. “You were his only daughter; he didn’t want to rush you.”
A bit of soft laughter came from around the circle, and Reagan gave her mother a half smile. “I can see Dad saying that.”
“Anyway, the reason I wanted to give you this verse is because there were times in the past year when I thought God had forgotten his plans for both of us. Your—” she held the tissue to her nose and hesitated—“your father’s death . . . your pregnancy . . . and then it didn’t seem like we’d ever see Luke again.”
Reagan had tears on her cheeks now. “I know.”
“But today, honey, today here we are.” A sound that was more laugh than sob worked its way up from Anne’s throat. “Here we are, and Luke has turned out to be exactly the kind of young man your father thought he’d be. The two of you have Tommy and each other, and a love for God that I’ve watched grow stronger every day these past months.” She gave a dainty lift of her shoulders. “God was right all along. In his time, the prayers we prayed for you really did come true. God knew the plans he had for you after all. And so . . . I give you this verse because no matter what happens between you and Luke, no matter where the circumstances of life take you, I want you to know it’s true. God knows the plans he has for you, Reagan, plans to give you a hope and a future and not to harm you.”
Ashley’s own cheeks were wet, and she looked around the room. Not an eye was dry. Reagan’s mother stood and handed Reagan the verse. Then Anne looked at Ashley. “Would you like to go next?”
“Sure.” Ashley made a quiet sniff. She had written the verse she’d chosen on a card, and she pulled it out now. It had taken several days before she’d settled on the right Scripture. In the end, it wasn’t a conventional verse, one people quoted often or tacked at the bottom of artwork.
But it was the verse she and Reagan had most in common.
Ashley looked at the bride-to-be and prayed that the girl could see her heart, hear it in what she was about to say. “Reagan, you and I have something very precious in common, something the rest of our family might not understand.” She hesitated, her hands trembling. “Their names are Cole and Tommy.” Ashley allowed a sad smile. She and Reagan had never talked about this before. “You and I know what it feels like to do something outside the will of God, something that grieves his heart. We know how it feels to be the black mark on our family’s name, and we know what it’s like to wind up with the gift of a miracle child on the other end.”
Reagan nodded, her expression tender.
“But maybe the thing we know most of all is the grace of God, his forgiveness. Because after the choices we made, his forgiveness was sometimes all that kept us going.” Ashley accepted a tissue from her mother. “The verse I’m giving you is from Colossians 1:13-14: ‘He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.’ ”
In the corner of her eyes, Ashley caught her mother taking a tissue for herself.
“Redemption.” Reagan smiled. “That’s perfect, Ashley.”
“And the thing is, you’ll need it all your lives. I really believe that. Through the mountains and valleys of life you’ll always come out okay if you and Luke can remember how God rescued you from darkness, rescued all of us from darkness, really. And how he’s given you redemption through his Son. God’s redemption is why Cole is such a blessing, why he loves the Lord and wants to live for him. And redemption is why you and Luke found your way back together again, and why I’m convinced your lives will be a beautiful thing forever.”
Ashley’s mother went next. She started by smiling at Reagan and waiting, massaging her throat the way she often did when she was too choked up to speak. Finally she said, “I’m giving you a verse I’ve given my children often through the years.” She looked briefly at Erin, Brooke, Kari, and Ashley. “It’s sort of the Baxter family mantra, I guess. And all my life I’ve never offered it to anyone but my children. But today you’ll be taking my son for your own, and . . .” She bit the inside of her lip and closed her eyes for a brief moment.
“And I want you to know that I refuse to see today as losing my only boy. Instead . . . instead in my heart I’m taking you on as a daughter, Reagan. One of my own. And because of that I want to give you our family’s special Scripture.” She made two short sniffs and unfolded a piece of floral paper. “It’s kept us together when times were tough, and it’s reminded us that we are called to be one, called to love. It’s from Colossians 3:12-14:
“ ‘Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.’ ”
The words to the verses pushed Reagan over the edge. She hung her head for a minute and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she stood and crossed the circle to Ashley’s mother. “Thank you for loving me, Mrs. Baxter. After today—” her words were muffled, lost in the embrace—“after today I’ll have two mothers. And the words of those verses will be a part of our family forever, too.”
Kari was next. While Reagan returned to her seat, Kari slid her fingers beneath her eyes and drew a slow breath. “Well . . . no one told me not to wear mascara this morning.”
Her comment gave the group a chance to laugh, to release some of the emotion in a way that lifted the mood. When the group quieted down again, Kari took out a note card and met Reagan’s gaze. “You don’t know me that well.” She smiled. “Something I’m sure will change as we share our families in the years ahead.”
“Yes.” Reagan crossed her legs and leaned forward, connecting with Kari across the circle.
Kari’s smile faded some. “You have something in common with Ashley, but Reagan, you also have something in common with me. The reality of a loss few people can grasp.” Kari sniffed. “At the most difficult times of my life, this Scripture kept coming to light. In sermons, in conversations, in sympathy letters I received. And truthfully, I didn’t want to hear it. Something about it sounded too predictable, too plastic.”
Kari exchanged a quick look with their mother. “But the truth is, God wanted me to own this Bible verse, take it to heart and look for ways it was playing out in my life. Because it was.” She opened the card and let her eyes fall to the words inside. “It comes from Romans 8:28: ‘And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.’
“See . . .” Kari looked up, her eyes a reflection of her heart. “It’s that last part people forget about when they use that verse. Things don’t simply work for the good. They work for the good of those who have been called according to his purpose. In other words, things work to the good for those who don’t fight life’s ups and downs, but roll with them, allowing God’s purpose to be bigger than all their hopes and expectations combined.” She knit her brow. “When God’s purpose is the main thing in your life, all things will work to the good. Every time. Does that make sense?”
Reagan gave Kari a sad smile, her eyes locked with Kari’s. “Definitely.”
Kari stood, hugged Reagan, and gave her the card. “Welcome to our family, Reagan.”
Erin took a piece of paper from her purse and held it up. “I’ll go next.”
Reagan shifted her gaze in Erin’s direction. “Okay.”
“I brought you three short verses because for me, when it comes to marriage, they can’t be separated. My sister Kari taught me that.” Erin looked at Kari and then back at Reagan. “You may not know this, Reagan, but Sam and I nearly walked away from each other last year.” She hesitated, holding the piece of paper against her heart. “Somehow after we married, we forgot about a simple miracle formula that every married person must remember.”
Rejoice Page 22
