“I’d like that.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“Good day for me. Anytime.”
“Parker’s going to meet me at The Vogue at ten thirty, but I’d like a few minutes with you alone first.”
“Sure. Ten fifteen?”
“Perfect.”
Allison and Richard arrived at the same time, and he held the front door of The Vogue open for her.
“Thank you.”
They both ordered white-chocolate mochas and wandered to the back of the coffee shop to find a seat. They settled at the same table where Richard and Alister had sat the day Allison first saw the journal.
“An appropriate spot, don’t you think?” Allison asked.
“Why do you say that?” Richard took a drink and studied her over the top of his coffee cup.
“Because this was the spot where it began, and this is the spot I suspect it’s going to end.”
“End?”
“Yes. This chapter anyway.” Allison let her sadness creep into her smile. “But before we get to all that, I want to tell you what’s happened since we last talked.”
“I’d love to hear all about it.”
She told Richard about standing up to Derrek and her reunion with Parker and how rich and confirming that was, and about the job offer from Micah and Sarah.
“And I spoke to the dry bones. They came alive. I’m beginning to remember who I am.”
“I’m happy for you, Allison. Truly.”
“Thank you, Richard, for everything you’ve done and been for me.”
Richard gazed at her with eyes radiating compassion. He offered a smile that spoke of great delight, then reached into the bag at his feet. Instantly she knew what was inside. Allison closed her eyes till she heard him slide a package across the table in front of her.
She opened her eyes and softly laid her fingers on top of it. “You know, don’t you?”
“What?”
“That the words in the journal are gone. That my time is up.”
“Yes.” He glanced at the package in front of her. “I thought I’d get you a new one.”
She opened the package and picked up her new journal. The Tree of Life was etched into this journal, just like the one she’d borrowed for a while. But the light brown leather of this journal was new. In time it would grow old and beautiful with nicks and scrapes and the oils from her hands. And she would fill it with words of truth and authenticity.
Allison put it back in the package. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She reached into a small bag at her feet and brought out the Seraph Journal and set it in front of Rick. “It’s hard to let it go, but it’s right.”
“Why’s that?”
“It was my final crutch.” She took his hands and squeezed. “I had to know who I was from the inside out. The journal told me who I was—and it had to, that’s what I needed—but in the end I have to know my worth regardless of anything else.”
Richard’s eyes grew kinder, if that were possible, and he gave a nod.
“Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around her cup and brought it to her lips. The coffee tasted richer, fuller, if that was the right word. Rich, full of life, as full as the rest of her life had become.
“You’re welcome, Warrior Allison.”
She laughed and they sat in silence for a time.
“I know who you truly are.”
“Oh?” A smile poked out from the corners of Richard’s mouth. “Did you talk with Micah and Sarah about me?”
“Yes. Sort of. Enough.”
“So you know what I am.”
“I figured it out. I’m not sure I believe it, but I do believe it at the same time. Does that make any sense?”
“Completely.” Richard sat back and folded his hands across his stomach.
“And from what Micah said, his friend Rick is going to be the one hiring our new company to build homes.”
“That’s true.”
“Richard. Rick.” Allison smiled and slid her finger around the rim of her cup. “It was right in front of me the whole time. I should have figured it out sooner.”
Richard just smiled.
“So which name do I call you?”
“Whichever one you like.”
“Okay.” She took a sip of her drink and peered at him. “If you’re going to be our major client, then you’ll be in my life for a while longer.”
“Indeed I will.”
“I got the paperwork from Micah for the partnership. The salary is far beyond what I expected.” Allison looked down at her cup and tapped her fingers on the sides. “I’ll be able to pay off the rest of Mom’s debt within eighteen months, even with the crazy interest we’re paying on the loan. If Parker gets a job, which I’m guessing he will, it could be even sooner.”
She went silent and looked down.
“Is there a problem?”
“Where will all the money come from to pay for the homes and my salary?”
“I’m not married. I don’t sleep. I have a good head for business. And I’ve been around for more than a few years. So I’ve built up a sizable bank account.” Richard paused and grinned like a little boy. “You can’t imagine what the four of us are going to do together with that money.”
“I can try.” Allison leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I don’t know if that’s allowed, but I don’t care.”
Allison glanced around the shop, seeing all the people oblivious to the being that sat among them.
“What would happen if I stood right now and shouted out who you are?”
“Feel free to try it.” Richard laughed. “Most people would glance at you, then look away. Others would tell their companions you’re crazy.”
“But you could do a miracle to prove yourself to them.”
“I could.” Richard laughed. “I’ve often thought that. But it wouldn’t convince them. People believe what they choose to believe. Most of those in here would explain it away. It’s a choice to believe, no matter what that belief is, and while many people believe in angels, finding one sitting in their favorite coffee shop would test the limits of their faith.”
“But you’re not just an angel, are you? You’re one of seven Seraphs.”
“Yes.” Richard’s face grew solemn. “I am.”
“One angel for each journal.”
“Yes.”
Allison sat back, stunned, grateful, astounded that she’d been chosen.
“Why me, Richard?”
“Why not you?”
“But there are only seven journals. With billions of people on this planet, how—”
“You think journals are the only way God can reach into a person’s life?” Richard grinned.
“I suppose not.”
“Sometimes he uses things even smaller than a journal. Sometimes bigger things, like a house.” Richard winked.
“Like with Micah.”
Richard only smiled.
Allison took another sip of her drink and spun through her memories of Richard.
“And do you think I’m walking alongside only one person at a time?”
“Again, I suppose you aren’t.”
Richard smiled the smile of a father.
Allison looked down at the journal. As she ran her fingers lightly over its surface, her heart filled with the images of how it had changed her life. Allison’s gaze flitted back and forth between the journal and Richard. She laid her hand flat on the cover and said, “What happens now?”
“You already know.”
“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Do I have to give it to someone in here?” She glanced around the shop. “Someone eavesdropping on our conversation, like I did to you and Alister ages back?”
“No, no. Anywhere you like. Anyone you like.” Richard leaned in. “Simply listen. He’ll speak to you, lead you to the right person.”
They both took si
ps of their drinks and savored the moment of shared silence the way only true friends can.
Parker arrived a few minutes later. She watched her brother as he ordered his drink, then stood at the counter waiting for it to be made. She kept her eyes on him as she spoke to Richard.
“My brother is a good man. I wish he could have you in his life at some point like I’ve had.”
A moment later Parker slipped some bills into the tip jar and scanned the room for her. They caught each other’s eyes after a few seconds, and Parker started to stride toward her and Richard. But after a few yards he came to a dead stop, his eyes wide. He stood that way for more than ten seconds before slowly shuffling toward them, giving tiny shakes of his head as he approached. When he reached their table, Parker plopped into the chair next to Allison and stared at Richard with a look of utter bewilderment.
Richard leaned forward and said, “It’s great to see you, Parker.”
Allison’s brain skipped a beat. Richard’s grin went wide, and Allison could tell he was fighting to keep from laughing. She glanced back and forth between Parker and Richard. “How do you two know each—”
“Wow, it’s so cool to see you.” Parker lurched forward, his eyes full of confusion. “But what are you doing here, Abe? How do you know my sister?”
“Abe? Like from your boat?” Allison said to Parker, then turned to Richard and sputtered, “He just called you Abe.”
“Yes.” Richard smiled. “He did.”
In unison she and Parker stared at each other and stammered, “How do you two know each other?”
They pointed at each other and said, “Jinx!”
Allison joined Parker in a brief bit of laughter, then sobered as she took in what this all meant. She’d wished Richard could be in Parker’s life? Wish granted. For the past two and a half months, that’s exactly where he’d been. He’d just told her he could walk with more than one person at a time. Proof now sat next to her in the form of her brother. The absurdity and wonder of it all coursed through her like a flash flood, and she burst into laughter.
Richard nodded and smiled wide.
“What’s so funny?” Parker asked. “Will one of you tell me what’s going on?”
“Yes,” Richard said. “Allison will tell you. Unfortunately, I must go.”
“Go?” Parker shook his head. “I just got here. We gotta catch up. You gotta tell me what you’re doing here.”
“You’re right, we do need to catch up.” Richard stood, and Parker joined him a second later. “Don’t worry. We’ll connect. Soon. After you talk to Allison about me, I’m sure you’re going to have a few questions. I’ll call you in a few days and we’ll talk through it.”
He wrapped Parker in a massive hug and didn’t let go for a long time. “I love ya, Parker. Stay true. Know your worth. Know who you truly are, yes?”
Parker nodded as the two men released each other, and Richard peered deep into his eyes. “You’re such a good man, Parker.”
Then he said to Allison, “I’ll let you explain it to him if that’s all right.”
She nodded. Richard gave each of them a wink, turned, and strode across the floor of The Vogue and out the front door.
Parker whirled to face Allison. “Tell me.”
Allison took her brother’s hands and grinned. “Richard, or Abraham, or Abe, or Rick, or whatever we want to call him . . . is an angel.”
fifty-three
THREE DAYS LATER ALLISON STUDIED the midsixties man who sat in the corner of Kopi Kafé, the coffee shop she’d frequented before she got divorced. The man sat under a classic black-and-white photo of men eating lunch on the I-beam of a New York skyscraper still under construction.
He was reading a newspaper—at least appeared to be—but he hadn’t changed the page in over five minutes. She couldn’t be sure from the distance, but she thought his eyes held a deep sadness.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him. Ages back, a few months before she and her ex parted ways, he’d spoken to her on his way out. She’d been alone, a novel held out in front of her, her coffee untouched. He’d shuffled up to her, stopped four feet away, and motioned as if asking if he could approach her table. She nodded. The man stepped closer, then smiled down on her with a look that spoke of understanding life’s highs and lows. He said, “This too shall pass.”
“Excuse me?”
He offered a wink and a smile and a brisk wave of his hand. “Whatever it is you’re going through.”
“How do you know I’m going through anything?”
“It’s in your eyes.” He leaned closer and whispered, “But even more than that, you’ve been staring at the same page of your book for five minutes now, and I don’t take you for a slow reader.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“I watch everyone in here. The regulars, the first-timers, the only-timers. People are interesting. The pages of their faces often much more so than any book.”
He spoke the words as if Allison agreed, and he was right, she did. He nodded and repeated his opening line. “This too shall pass.”
With that he strolled off, then turned after he’d covered ten paces. He smiled again and mouthed the words, It will. It will.
He’d been right, and now his eyes held the same sadness hers must have held. Would he remember her? Probably not. She peered at him for a few more seconds. Time to find out.
“Excuse me.”
The man looked up, a puzzled look on his face. “Do I know you?”
“No.”
He gazed at her a few seconds before speaking. “I don’t think that’s true. I think we did meet, long ago. Yes?” He folded his paper methodically and set it on the table.
“We did.” Allison slid into the seat across from the man. “Very briefly. Here, in this coffee shop.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You spoke powerful words to me that day.”
“Did I?”
“You did.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the journal. “I have something for you.”
She slid the journal across the table and patted it. “For you.”
The man peered at the journal, then looked back at Allison for a moment, then focused back on the journal. With tentative fingers he reached out and stroked the leather.
“Beautiful.” He looked up. “It’s yours?”
“No, it belongs to a friend of mine.” Allison stretched out her arm and pushed the journal a few inches closer to the man. “But for a time, it’s yours. To write in. To immerse yourself in. To pour out the way you see the world.”
“Why me? Why give it to me?”
Allison stood and took the man’s hands in both of hers. “Because.”
She let go of the man’s hands and strolled away, a smile playing on her face. Without question, she’d made the right choice.
fifty-four
HOW LONG DID IT TAKE you to figure him out?” Allison asked as she stood with Micah and Sarah on the deck of their home four miles south of Cannon Beach. “Who Rick or Richard or Abraham was?”
“A lot longer than it took you.” Micah’s smile was melancholy. “That was a tough day when he left. We were on the beach at Oswald West State Park seven miles south of here. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. But then he showed up a few years later. Then again a year after that. The next time it was a month. The next, three years. He’s not predictable and there’s never any warning.”
“He changed my life.”
“I disagree,” Sarah said.
“Oh?”
“Yes, Rick helped you, pushed you, challenged you, gave you the chance to be standing right here in this moment, but you made the choice to believe all you’ve come to believe.” Sarah gave Allison’s hand a quick squeeze. “You wrote in the journal, you faced the truth, and you were willing to stand up to Derrek in the end. You.”
“I agree,” Micah said softly. “You were the one who stepped into who you truly are. You’re the one who chose to a
ccept it. You’re the one who decided to start living it out.”
The three of them watched the seagulls canter on the wind and took in the briny ocean air. After a time, Sarah wrapped her arm around Allison’s shoulders and said, “Are you sure you want to go on this crazy adventure with Micah and me?”
“Yes. No question.”
“Then we’re going to build some spectacular homes together.” Micah grinned. “Give them away to many, and watch the pages of their lives turn into stories far greater than they could ever imagine.”
A Note from the Author
Dear Friend,
This was a fascinating novel to write as it is the first time I’ve told a story where the main protagonist was female. (If it worked for you, thank my wife. If it didn’t, blame me.) But even though Allison is a woman, I still related to her since there have been many moments in my life when I haven’t stood up for myself and have regretted it deeply, and other moments I’m proud of, when I have had enough integrity to speak the truth even though it was difficult.
My prayer for you is that you step more and more into the freedom of standing up for yourself. And that you speak to the dry bones and discover the truth of who you truly are.
Also, it was a blast to write about Micah and Sarah Taylor once again. For those of you who have read my novel Rooms, you know Micah and Sarah quite well. For those of you who weren’t familiar with these names, they are the main characters in Rooms.
To bring them back for a few cameos in The Pages of Her Life, see what has happened to them, and discover what they’ll be doing in the future, was great fun. If you want to keep up with what’s going on with me and my writing, find encouragement for your journey, and receive the occasional free giveaway, you can sign up for my newsletter at JamesLRubart.com When you do, I’ll send you a free instrumental song that Micah wrote (really, me) years ago when he first went to his home on the coast. And you can always jot me a note at [email protected]. I’d love to hear from you.
Finally, thank you for taking the time to read The Pages of Her Life. You are the biggest reason I love to tell stories.
Much freedom,
Jim
The Pages of Her Life Page 30
