Halfway to Forever

by Karen Kingsbury

  The girls were at the grocery store and Hannah was folding laundry in Grace’s room when the phone rang. She straightened a rag doll on Grace’s pink ruffled pillow and answered the phone in the office down the hall. “Hello?”

  There was a pause on the other end and Hannah rolled her eyes. Salesmen. They never came right out and gave you their pitch anymore. Instead there was an annoying three-second computerized delay. Hannah was about to hang up when she heard Edna Parsons’ voice.

  “I need to speak to you. Can I come by, or would you rather talk now, on the phone?”

  Inch by inch, Hannah sank into the chair near the phone. Her heart was in her throat. “Now’s fine.”

  The social worker sighed. “I hate to tell you this …”

  Hannah’s pulse quickened, and she struggled to breathe. What was this? It couldn’t be about Grace. Her mother was in jail, after all. They were just a few months from finalizing the adoption. “Just tell me. Please.”

  Again Mrs. Parsons hesitated. “I’ve been in conversation this week with Grace’s maternal grandmother.”

  Hannah’s stomach dropped. This wasn’t happening; it was impossible. Grace didn’t have a grandm—

  “It seems … well, she isn’t dead after all.”

  Hannah was falling into a dark and endless pit. She knew what was coming and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her grip on the phone tightened. “How … how do you know she’s telling the truth?”

  “The woman provided us with documentation proving she’s Leslie Landers’s mother. Apparently she gave Leslie a great deal of money and tried to help her purchase a house in Oklahoma.”

  Oklahoma? The woman lived in Oklahoma? Did that mean … Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the social worker’s explanation.

  “Instead Leslie took the money and ran to California. She blew it on drugs and told everyone, including Grace, that Grandma Landers was dead.”

  Hannah swallowed. “What does the woman want?”

  Another sigh filled the phone, this one heavier than before. “She wants Grace. She says she’s been like a mother to the child since she was born. The only stability Grace has ever known.”

  Until now, Hannah wanted to say. Until she came to live with us! The technicality of their situation didn’t matter; Grace was their daughter. Even if the adoption wasn’t finalized. “Don’t … don’t we have some say in this? Grace belongs to us now.”

  “Grace belongs to the state. She’s a foster child, a ward of the court.” Mrs. Parsons paused. “I had no idea this would happen. I feel terrible, Mrs. Bronzan.”

  Hannah’s mind raced for a solution. There had to be a way out. Maybe she and Matt and Jenny and Grace could pile in the car and head for Mexico. Maybe she could hang up and the entire phone call would be nothing but an unthinkable nightmare. Hannah rubbed her forehead and stared at the floor. Her heartbeat was so loud she was sure the social worker could hear it. “Does … does the woman know how happy Grace is? Does she understand?”

  “She wants her granddaughter, and according to California

  law she has the right to take custody of her as long as she’s fit. We checked her out and she’s a fine woman, Mrs. Bronzan. She’s flying here today from Oklahoma to take Grace home.”

  To take Grace home? There was a searing pain in Hannah’s heart. So that was it? Grace’s grandmother figured out where she was and now Grace would have to leave? As though she and Matt and Jenny had never been a part of her life at all? Tears spilled from Hannah’s eyes and she struggled to find her voice. “You’re taking her today?”

  “No.” There was a shuffling sound of papers in the background. “We’ll come for her tomorrow morning. Say ten o’clock. Her grandmother wants to come, too. She … she wants to thank you for helping Grace these past three months.”

  “Yes … I see.” Hannah mumbled a good-bye and hung up the phone. As she did, her eyes fell on a framed photograph of Grace and Jenny, their arms slung across each other’s shoulders; grins spread across their faces. Her face contorted as the sobs came. “No!” She shouted the word so it sounded throughout the empty house. “No, God! Don’t take her away!”

  Hannah reached for the picture and clutched it to her chest, weeping over the thought of telling Grace good-bye in the morning. There would be no time to prepare, no time to let her know how much they loved her. Not only that, but after tomorrow she’d be living in Oklahoma.

  How would they survive? Any of them? The child had worked her way into the very fiber of their family, into the deepest crevices of their hearts. It would be like losing.

  Hannah couldn’t finish the thought. Her weeping grew louder, more desperate, and she collapsed over her knees, still holding the photograph. No, God … not again.

  The pain that wracked her body was as gut-wrenching as it was familiar. Hannah knew all too well what it was to lose a daughter, to receive the kind of news that destroyed a family in an instant.

  Her tears were not only for Grace and what tomorrow’s loss would mean. They were for Alicia and Tom and everything about that awful day when Hannah first understood how life could change forever in the course of a few minutes.

  The last day of summer. Four years ago, almost exactly.

  The events of that day were etched in a part of her brain where they would remain for moments like this, moments when drifting back was simply inevitable. And so, still clutching the picture of Grace and Jenny, Hannah was sucked back in time, back to a golden afternoon, the last day of summer vacation, 1998.

  She had busied herself that day readying for her family’s return from what had become an annual summer’s end camping trip. She remembered sneaking a look out the window every ten minutes or so as evening drew closer, impatient for their return.

  But time slipped away until they were thirty minutes late, and then an hour. Hannah was still staring out the kitchen window when the police car pulled up that evening.

  His exact message was jumbled in her mind, but key words stood out still. There’d been an accident, serious injuries, Tom and the girls were at the hospital.

  It was the beginning of a time when Hannah felt like she was walking underwater, as though everything she heard or saw was somehow muffled by a dense layer of pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  At the hospital Hannah was ushered into a small room where a doctor used kind, careful words to tell her the news. Jenny had injuries, but she’d be okay. The others weren’t so fortunate. Rescue workers had made a gallant effort, but both Tom and Alicia had died at the scene.

  Before the night was through she followed the doctor to a room where Tom’s and Alicia’s bodies lay, and at a time when they should have been laughing and sharing stories over dinner, Hannah bid each of them a final good-bye.

  Next she learned that the driver of the other car had been drunk. In fact, he’d been convicted of drunk driving several times before hitting her family.

  The news—all of it—turned Hannah overnight into someone even she didn’t recognize, someone angry at God and bitter with life, determined to make the drunk driver pay. Someone oblivious to the cost her revenge was exacting on Jenny.

  The memory faded and Hannah sat straighter in her chair. She looked once more at the photograph of Jenny and Grace, and though fresh tears swam in her eyes, she knew somehow she’d survive. The Lord would see her through. After all, He’d given her Matt, and with Matt by her side Hannah could survive just about anything.

  She thought about her tall dark husband and the way he’d made her life beautiful these past years. Matt, who had walked her through the year-long court battle against Brian Wesley, the drunk driver. Matt, who had represented the spirit of Christ at every turn, seeking not revenge but justice. Matt, who had been Hannah’s constant friend and supporter.

  It was no surprise, really, that she’d fallen in love with him.

  Not that the process had been quick.

  It started more than a year after the accident
, when Hannah acted on Tom’s dying wish. That day she walked into a prison meeting room, sat across from Brian Wesley, and forgave him.

  Afterward, when Hannah joined Matt and Jenny outside, something had changed. Hannah couldn’t place it at first, but in time she realized that forgiving Brian Wesley had removed ice from around her heart. With the cold gone, she was able to see Matt in a way she hadn’t before. In fact, for the first time since the collision she was able to imagine her future, to admit she still had one.

  For a long while she and Matt hid their feelings, each not sure the other was ready for romance. Hannah remembered the turning point.

  It was a few months later in late February and Matt had spent the day with her and Jenny. Though the sun was out, a cool breeze filled the air, and the three of them flew kites at a local park. When the sun set, they returned to Hannah’s house and Matt barbecued steaks.

  As soon as dinner was over, Jenny announced she had plans with a friend. Half an hour later she was gone for the evening, and Matt and Hannah had the house to themselves. They spent the first hour walking to the local high school and circling the track. For the first time none of their conversation centered around Tom’s and Alicia’s absence. Rather they talked about his dream of joining a law firm that fought for religious freedom and spending the next part of his career upholding rights that too many people took for granted.

  “I’m finished with drunk drivers,” he told her. Their steps were unhurried and every now and then their arms brushed against each other.

  “You met your goal. A drunk driver was convicted of murder one.” Hannah gazed at the treetops beyond the school. “I don’t blame you for wanting something new.”

  Matt shook his head. “It isn’t that. Murder one was the right conviction for Brian Wesley. But even that won’t keep it from happening again. Tonight, tomorrow … every night after that … someone will drink too much and climb behind the wheel. They’ll break laws and drive without licenses and kill people like Tom and Alicia and my friends.”

  Hannah angled her head, curious in a sad sort of way. “So, we should give up?”

  “No.” Matt slipped his hands in his pockets as they kept walking. “You should keep working for victim rights as long as you feel God wants you to. I think that kind of thing helps, especially with teenagers. There you are talking about your losses, showing pictures of Tom and Alicia. That kind of message is bound to stop some of them from drinking.”

  He paused for a moment and Hannah savored the peace that resonated in her soul when she was with him. He continued, his tone thoughtful. “But prosecuting drunk drivers doesn’t keep anyone from drinking and driving.”

  “It made Brian stop.” Hannah wasn’t being argumentative. She only wanted Matt to know how important his role was in seeing Brian sent to prison for what he did. Yes, she forgave him. But after numerous drunk driving accidents and convictions, after killing two people, Brian belonged in prison.

  It was the only way he wouldn’t kill again.

  “For now.” Matt shrugged. “But Brian won’t serve his whole term. And then we’d better pray he finds healing from his alcoholism. Otherwise, it could happen again. You and I both know that.”

  Hannah didn’t respond. The thought of Brian Wesley back on the street, possibly drinking and driving again, was too depressing to imagine. She waited for Matt to continue.

  “I’d like to invest my time where I could shape American law, set precedent for generations to come. Cases that would preserve freedoms for millions of Americans.”

  Hannah remembered her heart swelling with pride as Matt shared his hopes with her that evening. Their conversation shifted to his basketball days in college and she found herself wishing she’d known him then.

  “If you played with as much passion as you practice law, you must have been very good.” She smiled up at him. The sky was growing darker and without saying a word they shifted direction and headed back to Hannah’s house.

  Once inside, Hannah made coffee, and they continued their conversation over a board game Matt had given her. He was winning handily when he tapped her foot under the table and flashed her his cards, alerting her to the fact that he’d been cheating.

  “Matt Bronzan!” Hannah’s laughter rang like wind chimes in springtime. “Here I thought you were a man of honor.”

  “Well, let’s see …” He looked at the ceiling, pretending to be deep in thought while he calculated something. “You’ve beaten me the last five games. I’d say even men of honor have to resort to drastic measures now and then.”

  But as he finished his sentence, his elbow bumped the playing board, messing up the meticulously placed chips and putting an immediate end to the contest. “Aha!” Hannah snatched his cards from his hand. “Justice, again!”

  In his attempt to grab the cards back, Matt missed and took hold of her hand instead. The air between them changed, and their eyes locked. Both their smiles faded. Time ceased to exist as they stayed that way, his hand clutching hers, while they searched each other’s eyes and tried to think of something to say.

  He made the first move. Clearing his throat, Matt removed his hand, took hold of his coffee mug, and finished what was left of his drink. “I should be going.”

  Hannah was confused as much by his reaction as her own. Why was he upset with himself for holding her hand? Didn’t he have feelings for her? And what was this sudden ache in her heart? It was only eighteen months since losing Tom … Had she been so quick to fall in love with another man?

  She had no answers as she followed Matt to the front door. Though she planned to merely thank him for a fun day and bid him good-bye, she couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. The one that burned stronger in her with each passing day.

  “Why, Matt?” They were standing face-to-face near the open door, him filling the doorframe and her leaning against the wall as she studied his eyes for answers.

  He cocked his head, his tone soft. “Why, what?”

  “Why are you here with me? You could be dating a dozen different women, getting on with your life.” She hesitated and she could hear her heart beating hard within her.

  For a moment she thought Matt might laugh or launch into an explanation, the kind he was expert at giving. Instead, he moved closer and cradled her chin in his fingertips. Then he brought his lips to hers and kissed her.

  When he drew back, his eyes were glistening. “Because …” He kissed her again, his touch gentle and sweet, but burning with a thinly veiled desire. “Because I love you, Hannah.”

  The explosion of emotions within her that night was more than she could bear. Tears spilled from her eyes and she was speechless. She was in love with Matt Bronzan, and that meant she was healing. Though she had never expected to love any man other than Tom Ryan, here she was, kissing Matt and savoring the sensation of falling once more.

  Matt’s expression filled with subtle alarm when he saw her tears. He brushed them from her cheeks as his eyes clouded over. “I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s too soon. I just … I had to tell you.” He glanced at his feet and back at her. “I’m sorry.”

  A sound that was more laugh than sob came from Hannah and she wrapped her arms around his neck. When the hug ended, she found his lips again and kissed him the way she’d wanted to for months.

  The days after that were a blissful bouquet of moments that were almost impossible to believe. By the end of the week, Jenny caught on to what was happening between them. One night she was on her way out with friends when she winked at Hannah. “Tell your boyfriend hi for me.”

  Alarm sliced through Hannah’s happy heart and she held her breath. “Boyfriend?”

  “Yes, boyfriend.” Jenny laughed and Hannah’s body went limp with relief. “I kept wondering what was taking you guys so long. I figured this would happen months ago.”

  After that Matt and Hannah were inseparable, and on Easter Sunday he took her and Jenny to brunch and asked Jenny’s permission to marry Hannah. Jenny was so thrill
ed she clapped her hands like a little girl. “Yes! We’re going to be a family.”

  As the summer wedding date drew near, there were many conversations between Hannah and Jenny and Matt, acknowledgments that Matt could never replace Tom, but that what they shared would be every bit as rich. Maybe richer, since great love was often born of great loss.

  Though she would never forget Tom and the love they shared and the family they raised, Matt was her closest friend now. The bond they forged in Hannah’s time of grief was stronger than anything she’d ever experienced. She loved Matt with a strength that surprised her and made her grateful for every new morning in his arms.

  The memories grew distant, and Hannah wiped her tears. She stared at the photo in her hand. Matt had helped her survive the loss of a daughter once before. He would help her again, wouldn’t he?

  Hannah considered the strength of Matt’s love for Grace, the way the child ran to him each evening when he came home from work. Hannah gritted her teeth. How could she call him now and tell him it was all over? That their time with little Grace had ended before it even had time to really begin?

  Matt had helped Hannah cope with Alicia’s loss, but Alicia hadn’t been his daughter. He’d never even met her.

  It occurred to Hannah that this loss would be a different matter altogether. Grace wasn’t merely a sweet girl whose absence was bound to break Hannah’s heart. She was their daughter. Matt’s daughter.

  Help me be strong for him, Lord, the way he was strong for me. Help us survive …

  She prayed until there was nothing left to do but call Matt and tell him. As she dialed his office, her heartache grew. The news about Grace was bound to break off a piece of Matt’s heart, a piece that would be gone forever. And so Hannah prayed once more that somehow she’d have the strength to help him survive.

  The same way he’d helped her survive four years earlier.

  Fourteen

  Matt knocked on Tanner’s office door and let himself in before his partner could respond. “Got a minute?” Tanner looked up and nodded to a chair on the other side of his desk. “Sure.” He let his eyes fall back to the file in front of him. “What’s up?”