WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT KAREN KINGSBURY’S BOOKS
“I’ve never been so moved by a novel in all my life.”
—Val B.
“Karen Kingsbury’s books are changing the world—one reader at a time.”
—Lauren W.
“I literally cannot get enough of Karen Kingsbury’s fiction. Her stories grab hold of my heart and don’t let go until the very last page. Write faster, Karen!”
—Sharon A.
“Whenever I pick up a new KK book, two things are consistent: tissues and finishing the whole book in one day.”
—Nel L.
“The best author in the country.”
—Mary H.
“Karen’s books remind me that God is real. I need that.”
—Carrie F.
“Every time I read one of Karen’s books I think, ‘It’s the best one yet.’ Then the next one comes out and I think, ‘No, this is the best one.’ ”
—April B. M.
“Novels are mini-vacations, and Karen’s are my favorite destination.”
—Rachel S.
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To Donald:
Our family is so strong, so much closer than ever before. These are the years we dreamed about when we were raising our kids. A season when our adult kids would love God and each other, and when they would love spending a free Saturday night around the kitchen table—laughing and playing games and being best friends. These empty-nester years have been full of beautiful walks and meaningful talks, nights when we randomly jump into the car and spend an evening with Kelsey and Kyle and our adorable grandsons, Hudson and Nolan. We play tennis and Ping-Pong and hang out with our wonderful friends. And yes, we miss having our family all together every day. But when they come home the celebrating never ends. I loved raising our kids with you, and now I love this season, too. God has brought us through so many pages in our story. The Baxter family came to life while our kids were growing up. When the Baxters told stories around the family dinner table, we were doing the same. And when their kids auditioned for Christian theater, our kids were singing the same songs. Yes, our family is—and always will be—inexorably linked with the Baxters. Thank you, my love, for creating a world where our life and family and faith were so beautiful I could do nothing but write about it. So that some far-off day when we’re old and the voices of our many grandchildren fill the house, we can pull out books like this one and remember. Every single beautiful moment. I love you.
To Kyle:
You will always be the young man we prayed for, the one we believed God for when it came to our precious only daughter. You love Kelsey so well, and you are such a great daddy to Hudson and Nolan. I literally thank God every day for you and for the friendship we all share. You are strong and confident, humble and kind. You lead your family in a way that is breathtaking. Thank you for bringing us constant joy. We pray and believe that the whole world will one day be changed for the better because of your music, your leadership, your love and your life.
To Kelsey:
What an amazing season this has been, watching you be the best mommy ever for precious Hudson and Nolan. Both your little boys are so happy and confident, filled with joy and innocence and a depth that goes beyond their ages. They are bright and kind and they love Jesus. I’m beyond proud of you and Kyle for the way you’re parenting these angels. What a beautiful time for all of us! I’m savoring every day living so nearby to you and Kyle and the boys. As always, I believe God will continue to use your precious family as a very bright light . . . and I know that one day all the world will look to you both as an example of how to love well. Love you with all my heart, honey.
To Tyler:
I remember that long-ago day when you were ten and you said, “Mom, someday I’m going to write music and make movies. But I think I’m also going to write books in my spare time. Like you do!” And now that’s exactly what you’re doing. I can’t believe we’ve just seen the release of Best Family Ever: The Baxter Children. It’s hard to believe that we get the privilege of going back and telling the childhood stories of characters God gave me when you were a child. Really amazing, isn’t it? How good God is? I always knew He had gifted you with great talent. But I never would’ve imagined the ways He would work it all together. You’re still songwriting, still writing original screenplays and dreaming of making movies. And now you’re writing books in your spare time, too. I love it! Your dad and I are beyond proud of how you serve at church and care for others. It’s a privilege to be your parents. More than ever, God has great things ahead, and as always I am most thankful for this front-row seat. Oh, and for the occasional evening when you stop by for dinner and finish the night playing the piano. You are a very great blessing, Ty. Love you always.
To Sean:
I will always believe that God has great plans for you. These are the years when you choose who you’ll be, the years when you will make choices that will determine your future. As you go through life, I pray you remember your loving past, your roots of faith and the way you are so very much a part of our family. God is kind to give each of us the choice, the decision to become the person we want to be—in faith, in work and in relationships. You are a beloved son, Sean. I can’t wait to celebrate all that your life will be in the years to come. Stay in His word. I love you always and forever.
To Josh:
Way back when you were little, we always knew you’d grow up to be a hard worker, and you absolutely are! As our much-loved son, always remember that having a relationship with Jesus is the most important gift you will ever give your family. In the years to come, as you walk out your faith together, just know how much we love you. We always have. We believe in you. We are here for you always!
To EJ:
What a tremendous time this is for you, EJ. In just a few weeks you will walk across the stage at Liberty University, cinematic arts degree in hand! You are doing so well at school, so excited about the career in filmmaking you have chosen. And you are passionate about voice-over work! I really believe one day we’ll hear you talking in a national commercial. Someone has to be the next best voice talent—it might as well be you! I’ve also seen you grow into a confident, communicative young man, humble and kind, but still able to speak your mind. Isn’t it something how God knew—even all those years ago when you first entered our family—that you would need to be with people who loved God and loved each other . . . but also people who loved storytelling? I’m so excited about the future, and the way God will use your gifts to intersect with the gifts of so many others in our family. Maybe we should start our own studio—making movies that will change the world for God. Whatever the future holds, remember that your most powerful hour of the day is the one you give to Jesus. Stay in His word. Pray always. I love you.
To Austin:
It’s hard to believe you’re almost finished your junior year. One more year and you’ll be a graduate! At Liberty people know you as a very bright light. The friend people turn to for a real conversation and a shoulder to cry on. Always at the center of everything fun that brings people together. You are honest and kind and your heart is deeper than the ocean. Your faith has truly become your own and it’s so authentic and central to your life, it sometimes takes my breath. In addition to all that, you are a most
wonderful son—always praying for us and making that random FaceTime call when you’re wide awake in your apartment. I love that. You know how to invest in family and that effort always pays off. Our house is brighter when you’re home. Austin, you will always be our miracle boy. Our overcomer. You are the youngest, and no question the hardest to let go. At times the quiet here is so . . . quiet. Even with your dad’s jokes and little Hudson and Nolan running around. Just know that we have cherished every moment of raising you. I’m confident we will see you on the big screen one day soon! God is opening doors and making a way! We are your biggest fans and always here for you. We always will be. Love you forever, Aus.
And to God Almighty, the Author of Life,
who has—for now—blessed me with these.
THIS BOOK IS part of the Baxter family collection, but it can be read as a stand-alone novel. Find out more about the Baxter family at the back of this book. Whether you’ve loved the Baxters for a decade, or you’re finding them for the first time—Two Weeks is for you.
1
The cardboard box sat open on Elise Walker’s lumpy twin bed, a note from her mother tucked inside. Three pens, half a dozen No. 2 pencils, two spiral notebooks and a pale blue binder. Under all that an old, worn red scarf. The tag was still on the frayed end. Goodwill. $2.99.
She picked up the note and read it again.
Dear Elise,
You’re only eighteen, and I know you didn’t want to go. But it’s for the best. Randy’s still mad you left. He tells everyone who’ll listen. I think he would’ve hurt you if you’d stayed. Or worse. He’s crazy, that boy. You’re allowed to move on, baby. Even for a little while.
Your Bloomington school starts later this week. The least I could do is get you a few supplies and something to keep you warm. In case it snows. Plus, the scarf suits you.
Fiery red.
Don’t worry about being at a new place. You’re gonna do great, baby. It’s a good high school. Your aunt told me all about it. Nice part of town. Friendly kids. And they have an art club. Maybe you can join. Anyway, it’s just a semester. You can come home this summer.
I miss you, Elise. Call you soon.
Love,
Mom
Elise ran her thumb over the words, her mother’s writing. Why had she treated her mom so badly? Her mother wasn’t exceptionally beautiful or daring or smart. She had never been married. Elise hadn’t ever met the man who was her father. There had been no sign of him since Elise was born.
Still, her mama loved Jesus and she loved Elise. Loved her enough to work two jobs to pay the bills. The truth was, Elise felt treasured. Always.
You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, baby. The best thing that ever happened. Elise could hear her mom’s voice, hear the love in the melody of her words.
Even now. After all the ways Elise had come against her.
A sigh slipped through her lips.
Everything Elise had, her mother had scraped and saved and worked to pay for. So that when Hattie Walker came home each night at six o’clock between jobs she was exhausted. She had to be.
All for Elise.
The two of them had never been apart. Mostly because Elise hadn’t had the chance to leave. In fact, last summer Elise would’ve done anything to get out of Leesville, Louisiana. Because for all the good Elise could say about her mother, the woman was old-fashioned and out of touch. She didn’t understand real life.
Elise moved the cardboard box to the shaggy carpet and flopped down on the bed. Dinner would be ready soon, but she still had a few minutes. A sigh slipped from her lungs and she looked around. The walls were closing in. A million tiny pink roses wallpapered over every inch. Even worse were the heavy green velvet drapes that covered the only window.
As if light were forbidden here. The way it was from Elise’s heart.
A week ago, on her first day in this house, Elise had dragged a clothes hamper to the window to hold back one side of the curtains. She used the desk chair for the other side. When she saw what Elise had done, her aunt had given the setup a wary look. Under her breath she whispered, “This too shall pass.”
Which Elise assumed pretty much summed up how her aunt felt about having her here for the semester. Elise didn’t care. She felt the same way. She was a senior. She would be out of here soon.
It’s going to be a long semester. Elise relaxed into the bed. She didn’t blame her aunt Carol and uncle Ken for not quite embracing the situation. Elise barely knew them, and still they were nice enough to take her in. Their two daughters—Elise’s cousins—had finished college. Successful. Married. Never got in trouble.
They were nothing like Elise.
She looked out the window. Streaks of pink and blue colored the sky. What about her? What was she doing here in Bloomington, Indiana? A million miles from Leesville? This morning she’d overheard her uncle Ken talking low in the kitchen.
“Exactly how wild was she, Carol?” He was a serious man, tall and thin. Wire glasses and the same gray suit every day. He sounded like he couldn’t decide if he was angry or worried. “She can get in trouble here just like back home.”
“She won’t get in trouble.” Her aunt hadn’t sounded quite sure. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Their words had stayed with her all day. Elise stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t wild. Not really. No matter how everyone else saw her, that wasn’t it. Until a year ago she’d been one of the good girls. Did her homework, stayed home Saturday night. Church on Sunday morning in the spot right next to her mama.
But two things happened midway through her junior year. Things that had changed her forever.
First, she became absolutely sure about what she wanted to do when she was older. The minute she graduated she would move to Manhattan and start classes at New York University. And she would study the only thing that stirred her soul. The one thing she wanted to spend her life doing.
Painting.
It wasn’t that Elise wanted to be an artist when she grew up. She was an artist, born that way. She was most alive poised in front of an easel, brush in her hand. Bringing a scene to life, from her heart straight to the canvas.
Elise didn’t see art as a pastime. It was her existence. Her future. Everything that mattered. And the night she figured that out, she had no choice but to tell her mother.
Midway through a dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, her heart missing beats, Elise had pierced the tired silence. “So, Mama . . . I know what I want to do when I’m out of school.” Her voice sounded happy, upbeat. This moment would be a time of celebration.
Her mother narrowed her weary eyes. She was between shifts cleaning floors at the hospital and working as a 911 operator for the local police department. “You’re a little young.” She sipped at a spoonful of soup. Her eyes looked nervous. “You know . . . to have all the answers.”
“I thought I knew a long time ago what I wanted to be.” She had watched for her mother’s reaction. “But now I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Her mother’s smile seemed uncertain. “What is it? You wanna be a doctor or a lawyer, baby? A schoolteacher?” She stared at her still full bowl, moving her spoon through it. Anxious. A quiet, defeated laugh came from her. “Please tell me you don’t want to clean hospital rooms.”
“No, Mama.” Elise looked at her mom for a long minute. She shook her head. “I don’t want to clean anything.” Her resolve grew. “I’m an artist. I want to paint.” Fear tried to stop her, but she kept going. “After school, I’m moving to New York to study. Gonna enroll at NYU.” She paused. “I’m good, Mama. I can make a living at it one day.”
Her mother lifted her eyes and looked straight at Elise. “An artist?” The tips of her fingers began to tremble. “Baby.” She shook her head. “You don’t get paid to paint pictures.” She didn’t wait for a response. “You’re smart. You can do anything you want. Be anything.”
“I know. You always told me that.” Her mom’s disappointment ra
n through Elise’s veins like a bad drug. “Which is why I want to be an artist.”
Her mom got up and paced to the kitchen stove. When she turned and looked at Elise, her eyes filled with tears. “Baby, I can’t afford New York. You know that.” She hesitated. “We’re simple folk. Any college would be a stretch. But NYU?”
“I can get scholarships, Mama.” Panic choked off Elise’s voice. “This is my dream.”
Her mom was quiet for a minute. Then her expression gradually grew hard. “Tell you what, baby. Let’s just settle this right now.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “You will not be an artist. Period.”
“Mama!”
“No.” Her lips closed tight together. “You will go to community college and be a teacher. Or a doctor. Some thing respectable.” A final shake of her head, and her mama’s eyes were cold as ice. “But you will not be an artist. Is that understood?”
And in that moment Elise felt something inside her turn to steel. No matter what her mother said, Elise would go to New York University. She would get the training she needed and she’d open her own studio. Somewhere near Manhattan’s action and art scene. She’d wait tables until she could make a living selling her work. Maybe rent a flat in Chelsea, where other artists lived.
Whatever happened next in her life, Elise made herself a promise that day. She wasn’t going to talk to her mother about it. No more. She would go after her dream by herself. From that moment on.
Every day her resolve grew, and with it a distance between her mom and her. Something the two of them had never known before. Elise stopped going to church, and less laughter marked their dinners. Her mother definitely noticed. She would set her fork down beside her plate and look at Elise. Just look at her.
“How was your day?” she would ask. Same question every night.
“Good.” Elise would keep eating.
Two Weeks Page 1
