by Alana Terry
What else was there to say? It wasn’t as if Lacy were moving to go to college or study abroad where she could write or call whenever she missed him. She couldn’t promise to let him know when she arrived safely at her destination. Neither of them knew where she was going.
That’s the way it had to be.
Their hug was awkward at first, like two partners at a junior high dance. Then he rested his cheek on the top of her head, and she felt the rise of his chest as he inhaled. He ran his thumb across her cheek. She looked up at him. His lips were so close. So kissable. She shut her eyes as one of his tears dripped onto her face.
“Good-bye.” He stepped back. Lacy watched him leave, listened to the hollow sound of the door as it clicked and locked in place behind him.
Chapter 24
THE SILENCE WAS HAUNTING. Heavy. Relentless. Icicles of loneliness weighing down on her heart. Why had she let any of this happen? She should have never gotten in the car with Raphael last week. Never left Glennallen.
But then what? Wait to get killed by the man who followed him to Alaska?
Raphael. She would never see him again. She knew it just as plainly as if he had died from his injuries. Maybe he would die. Lacy saw the next few weeks stretch lifelessly before her. Checking the Alaska Daily News website, constantly reloading to see if there was any information of his passing. Would the media find it newsworthy enough to report? Would anybody else in the entire blasted state care? Would she ever know what happened to him?
She had been mad at God, angry at him for forcing her to choose between two men. She had grumbled. Complained. Now, he was taking both Kurtis and Raphael away from her. That should teach her for whining so much. Why couldn’t she have been content? Content working at the daycare, staying in Glennallen. The Fourth of July salmon feed was only a week away. She could have been engaged. Married Kurtis. Adopted Madeline. Added a few more kids to their family. Two weeks ago, that sort of a future seemed so confining. Restricting.
Lacy would do just about anything now to reverse the clock and change what had happened. Stop Raphael from coming to Alaska in the first place. She didn’t hate him for what he’d done. It was his fault, but she couldn’t hate him. She didn’t love him either, though, not like she had in the past. She loved his memory, wished it weren’t tainted by all the horrible mistakes he’d made. But she was no longer in love with him.
Maybe she had grown up in the past week.
Maybe she had become more like Jo than she originally realized.
She was hungry. Weak from the trauma of the day. The trauma of the past four years, really. How much could one person endure? “For I know the plans I have for you.” Was this some cosmic version of a practical joke or something?
Raphael had found peace in religion. Solace. He threw himself into his new zeal for Christianity the same way he pursued his art. The same way he pursued Lacy. He wore his faith on his sleeve but still kept on making one dumb choice after another. No overdose of spiritual fervor could offset his immaturity.
She thought about Kurtis, how she felt comfortable if he mentioned God and just as comfortable if he didn’t. He lived out his faith instead of parroting fancy church phrases, instead of thrusting his religion on anyone with a strong enough stomach to listen.
“For I know the plans I have for you.” Lacy wondered if God really did have a plan for each person’s life, or if it was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure story, where he knew all the possible outcomes but let everyone flounder around on their own to figure everything out.
Oh well. There was no use dwelling on any of this. What would it help?
The door burst open, and Lacy didn’t experience the repugnance she usually felt at Drisklay’s appearance. This wasn’t his fault, either. After Lacy had made such a big fuss about no longer needing his protection, he was here again, ready to whisk her away to someplace safe. She should feel grateful. Instead, she felt nothing.
Empty.
Like a black winter sky when clouds cover all the stars.
He took a sip from his Styrofoam cup. “Jo.”
She had spent so many years hating that name, that identity. She had been a fool.
He set his cup down, splashing a few drops of cold coffee on the table between them. “I didn’t expect to be back in Alaska so soon.”
She waited. Waited for his lecture about how dumb she had been to resume a relationship with someone from her past. Complain about how her and Raphael’s stupidity cost the program so many thousands of dollars for their new relocations. Remind her how crucially important it was to stick to the directives. Obey the rules. Never trust anybody. Never let anybody come close to learning about her past. Instead, he sat down with a groan. “You’ve had an eventful day.” He folded his hands on the table. “So, let me tell you what’s gonna happen from here.”
Lacy refused to think back to the night four years ago when she first met Drisklay and had a very similar conversation. She was a different person now. Older. Hopefully wiser. Whatever was going to happen to her, she would accept it like a mature adult. Drisklay was trying to help her, and she was going to jump through whatever hoops he laid out for her without complaining. Her life and future depended on it.
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
Chapter 25
DRISKLAY’S BRIEFING was just as long and involved as his first one had been back in Massachusetts. Apparently, he had an entire twenty-minute speech memorized where he talked about all the dangers that might befall a protectee who leaves the program. Scare tactics, really. Except Lacy didn’t need those anymore. She had already been terrified into compliance.
Her next stop would be to a safe house out of state. Drisklay didn’t tell her where it was, just told her she’d fly out with him in a few hours. She’d wait there for a week or two, however long it took the department to put together her new cover identity. She listened to it all as if she were a distant observer. A member of the audience watching a crime drama in a theater. Maybe a new minimalist musical.
Definitely not a comedy.
“Do you have any questions for me?” Drisklay asked, tipping his cup back to take in the last few drops of coffee.
She licked her lips. “How’s ...” Drisklay had been talking for so long, she couldn’t trust her voice. “How’s Raphael?
He frowned. “He took a lot of chances. You know there’s no way we can guarantee safety for someone like that.”
That wasn’t good enough. She’d spent four years wondering what had really happened to him that night at the North End. Even though she knew there was never going to be a future where she and Raphael ended up together, she refused to step into the next act of her life without knowing the full truth.
“What did the doctors say?” She tried to make her voice sound forceful but wasn’t sure she pulled it off.
Drisklay stared at his empty cup. “He didn’t make it. Too much blood loss.”
Lacy let his answer float in the air around her. Took in the truth a small breath at a time. He didn’t make it.
Drisklay made a move as if he were going to drink again but changed his mind. “I’m sorry.”
Didn’t make it.
Lacy knew at some point the realization would hit her full in the gut. Maybe on the plane with Drisklay, or maybe once she got settled in her new home in the Lower 48. All the sorrow, the grieving, the regrets — that would all come.
Later.
Now, she had a plane to catch. A safe house to reach. She hoped wherever they took her at least had some good movies. Her brain could use some mindless numbing.
“Well.” Drisklay stood. “I have a few details to oversee before we head to the airport. In the meantime, I think there was somebody who ...”
The moment he cracked the door open, Sandy shouldered her way in. She was carrying a backpack, a small duffel, and several shopping bags. “I’m here, sweetie.”
Drisklay squeezed past all the luggage and shut the door behind him. Sandy set the bags o
n the floor and hurried toward Lacy. They hugged. Lacy did what she could to mentally record the feeling of her mom’s hands around her back, wondering how long until the memory faded and dissolved.
“I’m sorry,” Sandy sniffed, laughing at herself. “I promised myself I’d be the strong one here.” She tilted her head and pouted at Lacy. Mascara dribbled down her cheeks. “I brought your stuff.” She gestured toward the bags. “That’s the backpack and duffel you had at the mission home. And I went to the store to grab some other things.” She pulled various items out of the shopping bags. New socks. A few cute hair accessories. Tampons and deodorant. “I got a couple books, too. I don’t know what you like to read these days, so I just picked out some that looked interesting. I didn’t know how long you’d be on your flight or ...” She let her voice trail off.
“Thanks,” Lacy mumbled.
Her mom sniffed loudly. “I’m so sorry all this happened, dear.”
“I know.”
“Some people would say something like Everything happens for a reason, or God won’t give you more than you can handle. But the truth is, God gives his people things they can’t handle every single day. It’s not fair. It’s not pleasant. It’s just life.” She sat in the folding chair, and Lacy caught a whiff of fabric softener wafting from the folds of her skirt. Could she remember that smell always?
“God is good,” Sandy continued. “We can’t ever doubt that. And his Word tells us he’ll work things out for our good if we love him. But that doesn’t keep bad things from happening. All these horrible events that have happened to you, those are bad. Still, we got to hold faith that God knows what he’s doing. He can make good come from all these tragedies. He will if you trust him.” She sighed. “I wish I could tell you more, sweetie. Wish I could give you all the answers. But here I am, hardly a crumb of wisdom to my name, and you’re probably starving for a whole loaf right about now.”
“It would be nice,” Lacy admitted. They talked a little more. Lacy explained about how Kurtis grew suspicious about the car and drove down to Anchorage to check on her. How Raphael had been involved with everything from the start. How surprised Lacy was to feel so little at the news of his death.
“That’s because it hasn’t sunk in, sweetheart,” Sandy explained. “You see, God knows that some things are easier to take in little by little. Bite-sized chunks, if you will. Now, I know Raphael did you wrong, and I bet you feel like you should be angry with him. The fact is, you probably will be. That’s just a part of grieving, darling. And don’t you think that just because he’s the one who put you in all that danger that you shouldn’t mourn for him. I’d be worried over you if you didn’t. That boy was important to you. I remember you two together back in Boston. You had a chemistry. A bond. Might not have been the wisest or most godly of bonds, but that don’t matter right now. What matters is he’s gone, and eventually you’re going to have to process all that. Cry as much as you need. Nothing cleanses the soul like prayer and a good sob. And don’t feel pressured to get over him too soon either, hon. That’s the other mistake some folks make. Don’t rush the grieving period. I always like to picture my tears are the rain that’s gonna water the flowers God’s sending my way. He does that, you know, makes beauty out of our sorrow. Sometimes it takes longer than others. That’s why we need to ask him for patience.”
She reached out and stroked Lacy’s cheek as Drisklay’s voice carried into their room from the intercom. “Five more minutes, then we got a plane to catch.”
Sandy wrapped her arms around Lacy. “I pray for you every single day.”
Lacy wished she knew how to respond.
“Is there anything you want me to tell your dad?”
Lacy took in a deep breath. “Just tell him not to worry about me. Tell him ...” She faltered once before finding her voice again. “Just tell him I’m safe, and I love him a lot.”
“We both love you.” Sandy held her even tighter. She wiped her eyes. “I know this has to happen, sweetie. It’s for your own safety, but it’s just so hard.”
Lacy nodded.
“Now one more thing,” Sandy went on. “Let’s say down the road you meet some nice young man. Someone like that trooper friend of yours who wants to marry you. As long as he loves you and he’s a believer, you both have our blessing. Ok? He doesn’t need to dig around and investigate and call Carl out of the blue this time. Got it?”
Lacy tried to laugh along with her mom but couldn’t.
Sandy’s whole body sighed as they held each other for the last time. “I know I can’t ask you anything about where you’re going, and maybe you don’t know yet either. But wherever the good Lord takes you, honey, my prayer for you is that you’ll realize how much he loves you. Wherever you are. Whatever heartaches you’ve had to suffer. His love for you is greater than all of that. So you draw close to God, sweetie, and when you’re praying to him, feeling his big, powerful arms wrapping around you and holding you tight and keeping you safe, you remember your daddy and me are praying for you awful fierce. Those times you feel the Holy Spirit right there with you, comforting you, that’s gonna be God answering our prayers and showing you how much you’re loved.”
Lacy bit her lip. Maybe she could find those tears today after all.
Sandy took in a deep breath. “Now, I’m not gonna say good-bye, because good-byes are for people who don’t know Jesus and don’t have the hope we do that one day we’ll all be together again. You just hang on ‘til then, sweet thing. Brighter times are coming your way. I just know it.”
She kissed Lacy’s cheek and with a flourish of her long French braid and rustling floral skirt, she was gone.
Chapter 26
– ONE WEEK LATER
Tired. Lacy was so tired. Tired of the Texas heat. The safe house had air conditioning, but it hardly made any difference. The whole town had gathered for their little Fourth of July parade two blocks over. She had listened all morning to bagpipers warming up across the street.
She had forgotten how many movies she’d watched since Drisklay dumped her out here. She’d breezed through all the historical and romance novels Sandy bought, even though none of them had really interested her. Sometimes she wondered if this was what certain believers imagined purgatory would be like. A lot of waiting. Some sorrow. Disappointment. Occasional anger. Fear. Loneliness.
And not a whole lot else.
Lacy sat on the safe house couch with her legs tucked beneath her. Drisklay had taken her phone so she couldn’t access her Bible app, but Lacy had found a worn New King James Bible on a bookshelf at the safe house, right next to a nine-year-old Cosmo magazine and a Jehovah’s Witness publication. She hadn’t been reading Scripture systematically like Carl did, starting at the beginning and working his way through to Revelation. She usually just flipped around until something caught her eye. She’d spent a lot of time in Jeremiah lately.
“For I know the plans I have for you.”
She was glad someone did. Drisklay would be here in an hour or two with more information, but right now all she knew was she was going to South Dakota. She’d spent a lot of time praying her new home wouldn’t have as many mosquitoes as Glennallen. She also would prefer to work somewhere where she didn’t have to change a dozen diapers a day.
“For I know the plans I have for you.”
Lacy had already decided that once she got to her new home, she would find a church there. Maybe even work up the courage to join a Bible study or prayer group. She didn’t want South Dakota to turn out like Alaska, where she only knew one or two casual acquaintances. No wonder she had felt so lonely there. Things had got a little easier once she met Kurtis, but ...
She spent most of her waking hours trying not to think about him. She couldn’t let her past life poison her future like she had before. She had come to Alaska still pining for Raphael, still mourning his loss, grieving to the point where she could never move on with her life. In South Dakota, she couldn’t live another four years wishing for thing
s that would never be. She remembered what her mom told her about breaking up with her doctor boyfriend. He was an important part of my life for a season. We had fun memories.
That’s what Lacy wanted to hold onto when it came to her relationship with Kurtis. The memories. Memories of cuddling together on the couch while Madeline put on impromptu ballet shows. Of driving to Anchorage together, holding hands and enjoying the quietness of each other’s company. Of helping Madeline build her very first snowman or take her first step on ice skates.
Those were good memories, and she was trying desperately not to sully them with the sorrow of this move. Sometimes things just didn’t work out. It didn’t mean Kurtis was a bad fit. It didn’t mean the two of them weren’t compatible. It just meant life had gotten in the way of what could have been.
In some ways, Lacy was glad to be starting over. Glad she didn’t need the constant reminder of how foolish she’d been to waste four whole years agonizing over someone like Raphael. With him, it was easier to confine his memory to a distant point in the past. They had been good together back in Massachusetts, but everything after that had been a waste of energy at best. A nearly fatal mistake at worst. If only she had realized that sooner.
Sometimes she would look back and dissect those two and a half years she’d spent with Raphael. Were there signs? Could she have known what sort of jeopardy he’d drag her into, how much pain a few years of carefree spontaneity with him would cost? Lacy had finally begun to experience something new when it came to Raphael, something she had longed for during those four agonizing years in Glennallen.
Closure.
She couldn’t change the past, couldn’t take back those years they’d spent together travelling the East Coast in his Saab. She wasn’t even sure she’d want to. Of course, she’d happily reverse time and never drive with him to the pier, but if Raphael was making such bad choices, they were bound to catch up to him eventually. It could have been worse. She could have been killed. Even if Raphael’s contact hadn’t gotten murdered that night in the North End, what would that mean? A life on the run with someone who offered fun and excitement but absolutely nothing by way of security.
