“And I only know three heroes altogether.” Daisy looked at Lindsay’s mother. “Your son is one of them.”
Lindsay shot a look at her mother and saw her confusion softened by a new tenderness in her expression. Her mom blinked twice. “He was a hero?”
“Because of the two girls and the dangerous story.” Admiration filled Daisy’s tone.
“Josh only told us the story when we asked.” Carl Joseph stepped cautiously past Lindsay and her mother and over to the fireplace. He picked up the photo of the teenage girls. “That was our best Saturday morning story, right, Daisy?”
“Yeah, because of the happy ending.”
Lindsay was starting to understand. These two must’ve come over on occasional Saturday mornings, and when they did, they would ask Josh to tell the story about the two girls—a story Lindsay only found out about a few minutes ago.
“What . . . story did he tell you?” Her mom followed Carl Joseph and stood beside him. Daisy and Lindsay came, too, and filled in the places on his other side.
“It happened on New Year’s Eve three years ago.” Carl Joseph pushed his glasses higher up on his nose again.
“In Denver.” Daisy gave a definitive nod. “Josh was towing cars and two girls had a question. They were two best friends.”
“Yeah, they were nice girls and they were trying to find the United States, I think, right, Daisy?” Carl Joseph cocked his head. “I think it was the United States.”
“No.” Daisy smiled and patted Carl Joseph on the shoulder. “Not the United States. They were trying to find State Street.” She looked at Lindsay. “Definitely State Street.”
“So it’s against the law to drive drunk but that’s what the other guy was doing.” He thought for a few beats. “And he had his head down, which is not the best way to drive.”
“Passed out.” Daisy shook her head. “Yeah, passed out. And Josh pulled the girls out of the way so they were safe.”
“And Josh got hit on the shoulder, but he wasn’t too hurt and the girls were safe.” Daisy’s smile was wistful as she remembered these last details. “So there’s a happy ending.” She raised her eyebrows at Lindsay’s mother. “That’s one reason why Josh was a hero. Because God used him to make a happy ending.”
Lindsay spotted a box of tissues on a nearby table. She gave one to her mom, who was holding the photo now, tears streaming down her face. “Why didn’t he tell us?” she whispered. The words were meant for Lindsay, not Josh’s neighbors.
But Daisy answered, anyway. “He only told us because we asked.”
Lindsay pressed her tissue first to one eye and then the other. These two kind strangers had asked Josh about the picture of the teenage girls, but no one in his family had taken the time to learn about his heroism or the deeper details surrounding the accident. She held the tissue to her nose and closed her eyes. Inside her chest she could literally feel her heart breaking for her kindhearted brother. At the same time, she didn’t want Josh’s neighbors to feel they’d done something to upset her and her mother. She opened her eyes and managed a teary smile. “Thank you for sharing that story with us.”
“I like the happy ending.” Daisy seemed a little nervous in light of the sadness in the room. “Right, CJ? It’s a happy ending.”
“Very happy.”
A happy ending? Lindsay stifled a series of sobs that threatened to drop her to the floor. Her brother had saved the lives of two teenage girls, yes, but he had suffered a life-changing injury that eventually killed him.
“See the little girl?” Carl Joseph carefully took hold of one of the other framed photos on Josh’s mantel. “Our good neighbor never told us that story.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose. “Not a happy ending, that’s what Josh said.”
“So . . . do you know that story? About the little girl?” Carl Joseph raised curious eyes to Lindsay’s mother, and then to Lindsay.
“Josh was right.” Lindsay took the photo gently from Carl Joseph. “That story doesn’t have a very happy ending.”
“I bought her a present.” Daisy looked slightly uncertain about her gift. She took the beach bag off her shoulder, rummaged through it, and pulled out a new Minnie Mouse headband. She looked to Carl Joseph for help. “You tell it, CJ.”
He looked at the mouse ears and then at Lindsay and her mother and once more he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Me and Daisy went to Disneyland.”
“Our favorite place.” Daisy smiled. “And we wore our ears. I had Mickey Mouse and Daisy had Minnie.”
Daisy set her beach bag down and held the ears up in front of her face. “With these ears, me and CJ had the happiest day of all.”
“A real-life happy ending.”
“So, I was at the store and I saw this new pair of Minnie ears.” Daisy’s shyness wore off as she got caught up in her story. “And I thought if I buy these ears for the little girl in Josh’s picture then maybe a happy ending would happen for her, too.”
Lindsay kept the tissue pressed to her face. This couple had clearly loved Josh. Everything about him mattered deeply to them. “So . . . you bought the Minnie ears for the little girl in the picture?” Lindsay lightly touched Daisy’s arm. “You know who the little girl is, right?”
“No.” Carl Joseph’s answer was quick. “Because Josh said that story could wait because it doesn’t have a happy ending.”
But Daisy looked at the picture a little longer and her eyes filled with a gradual understanding. “Well . . . she looks a lot like our good neighbor.”
“Yes.” Lindsay sniffed, struggling to speak. “That little girl is Josh’s daughter. Her name is Savannah.”
“Savannah?” Carl Joseph seemed stunned by the revelation. “He never said she was Savannah.”
“That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl.” Daisy’s eyes glistened with tears as she turned her face to Lindsay. “Why didn’t she live here with Josh?”
“Yeah, why only a picture?” Carl Joseph put his arm around Daisy. “Because that’s why no happy ending if she didn’t live here.”
Lindsay saw her mother look away from the photo and turn toward the patio door. Her shoulders shook from the quiet sobs washing over her. Lindsay dabbed beneath her eyes again and she cleared her throat. “That’s the sad part. Savannah lives somewhere else.”
“Oh.” Daisy let the Minnie ears fall to her side. But after a moment, she held them out to Lindsay. “Well . . . when you see her I still think she’d like these. Because if she has the Minnie ears she’ll have a happy ending, like me and CJ.”
Lindsay took the headband and held it to her chest. “Thank you, Daisy. I think she’ll like these very much.”
“It’s not Disneyland.” Carl Joseph shrugged. “But it’s close.”
“Also . . .” Daisy looked at her friend. “We’ll pray for Savannah. That she’ll come out of the picture and into your arms.”
Lindsay stared in awe at the young woman. Out of the picture and into their arms? What a beautiful way to pray for Savannah. She thanked Carl Joseph and Daisy once more and before they left she told them they could stop by any time in the next two weeks while she and her mother were cleaning out Josh’s apartment.
“And let us know if you need anything.” Lindsay’s mother was still crying, but she was more composed than before. “Thank you . . . for being Josh’s friends.”
Carl Joseph’s eyes filled with fresh tears. He crossed his arms firmly in front of his chest and stared at his feet for a few seconds. “Josh—Josh was a hero and a very good neighbor.”
Daisy nodded. “We miss him a lot. We tell God all the time, right, CJ?”
“Right.” He gave both Lindsay and her mother a quick hug, and Daisy did the same. The two of them left arm in arm, their heads hung, tears on their cheeks.
Lindsay watched them go and she fell into her mother’s arms. They stayed that way a long time, holding on to each other so they wouldn’t drown in the sea of sorrow churning around them. And they th
anked God for the gift of Carl Joseph and Daisy—a couple of handicapped adults who knew more about Josh than his own family did.
All because they’d taken the time to listen.
FIFTEEN
Annie was still reeling from the visit, but she needed answers. She pulled back from her daughter and searched her eyes. “The story about the girls? Is it true?”
“It is.” Lindsay walked to Josh’s computer desk and picked up a stack of papers. “I found these just before you got here. A newspaper article about the accident, and a couple of letters from the girls’ parents.” Lindsay’s voice was still thick with sorrow. “The story calls him a hero.”
“And we never knew?” Annie wrestled with a mix of emotions. She was proud of Josh but her pride was tempered by pangs of anger and hurt. She motioned toward the door. “He told strangers what happened, and he didn’t tell us?”
Lindsay’s answer was quiet. “They asked.” She handed the documents over. “Every Saturday, apparently.”
Annie hated the way she felt, like she’d missed some great and marvelous opportunity to connect with her son over something good in his life. And in his last years there had been little good. She looked at the headline spread across a page that included Josh’s picture and a photo of the two girls. Tow Truck Driver Hailed as Local Hero.
“He knew you didn’t like his job.” Lindsay didn’t sound accusing, just honest. “He probably didn’t think it would matter how he was hit that day or why. He was doing his job and it cost him his health. That made the job seem like a mistake, however the accident happened.”
Annie sank into the nearest chair, the clipping and the letters still in her hands, and she stared at her son’s face in print. Dear God . . . I need one more chance, just one more chance. Please. . . . If only she had the last three years to do over again. She would have asked more questions about the accident or come by his apartment and noticed the photograph on his mantel. Tell me about the girls, she would have asked him. And—as he’d done for his neighbors—he would tell her how he’d pulled the girls out of harm’s way and taken the hit instead.
But none of those closest to him heard about his act of courage.
Annie felt like bits of herself were breaking off and scattering around the room and she couldn’t do anything to bring them back together. She’d missed the chance to celebrate Josh within the family and among their friends, to share his act of courage and give him the credit he deserved. God . . . why am I finding out now, when there’s nothing I can do about it?
Ten more minutes, that’s all she wanted. Ten minutes to hug him and look into his eyes and tell him that she knew the truth about the accident, about what he’d done. Ten minutes to tell him she was proud of him and not disappointed, no matter how she’d acted in the past. Just ten minutes.
Lindsay seemed to understand that her mother needed time to compose herself. She touched her mom’s shoulder. “I’m going to finish going through his file cabinet.”
Annie nodded, but she didn’t look up. And as Lindsay set about the job of sorting through Josh’s things, a thought occurred to her. What else didn’t she know about her son? He’d been a hero, and she hadn’t known that. So what else? Suddenly, she knew how she was going to spend these next two weeks. Not in a fog of sorrow, boxing up what remained of Josh’s life. But in a quest to learn all she’d missed along the way.
My Lord . . . how could I have missed the fact that Josh saved the lives of those girls? What sort of mother am I? She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to pull the pieces together, to collect herself so she could set about her quest. Help me find out everything about him, Father. He was my only son. . . . I love him so much, but—but if I didn’t really know him, please let me know about him now. She covered her face with a fresh tissue and let the tears come. And could You do one more thing? Could You tell him I’m proud of him, God, please.
“Mom, look at this.” Lindsay walked over and handed her a full-page note in Josh’s handwriting. “It’s dated ten years ago, the summer after Josh graduated from high school.”
And with that, her tears slowed and she embraced the task at hand. She took the page and saw it was a photocopy of a letter Josh had written to Becky Wheaton. Annie looked at Lindsay. “Did you read it?”
“I did.” She sat back against the edge of the computer desk. “It’s heartbreaking.”
Annie stood and walked with the letter to Josh’s patio door. Leaning against the cool metal frame, she started at the beginning.
Dear Becky,
It’s been two weeks since you broke up with me, and I still don’t blame you. I need to get my act together, you’re right about that. Last night you called and told me you loved me and that you’re praying for me to figure things out. Well, I stayed up all night thinking about what you said, and I’ve decided to make you a promise.
I, Josh Warren, promise you, my first and forever love, that I will stop smoking cigarettes. I watched my uncle die of lung cancer, and I won’t be like that—dead before I’m forty, wasting my life on some terrible addiction. I also promise to stop drinking and get serious about my life. Whatever else happens, I want my college degree. I want to be successful so that one day I can marry you and support you and have a family with you.
Believe me, Becky, you deserve someone successful, and that someone is going to be me. I promise you here and now.
This summer will be hard, because I know you need some space. Maybe I do, too. Space so I can have the time I need to figure out these changes. But the changes will come, you’ll see. And one day you and I will have the life we’ve both dreamed about.
I’ll never love anyone like I love you, Becky. Pray for me, that I can be the man you need me to be.
Love forever,
Josh
Annie read the letter over again, racked by the sincerity of Josh’s great intentions, the tragedy of all he’d failed to accomplish. He had wanted to stop smoking, but that didn’t happen until four years later. The drinking with his buddies continued through that summer and the next. He tried college, but only because he wanted to impress Becky and Annie and Nate. His grades were weak his first year and dismal his second, and by then Becky was seeing someone else. Josh moved to Denver and took a job at the garage, and the years began to pile up.
“I need to meet with her, show her this letter.” Annie said the words more to herself than to Lindsay.
“You should.” Her daughter was sitting at the desk again, going through Josh’s files. She looked up and blew at a loose strand of hair. “I wonder what would’ve happened if Becky had been more patient.”
“Or if Josh had taken life more seriously.” Annie folded the letter and put it in a stack with the newspaper clipping and the letters from the girls’ parents. Nate would want to see everything she found today.
As the day wore on, Annie kept her resolve, that these two weeks would be about learning whatever she could about her son, everything she hadn’t known, good or bad. She especially wanted to find whatever she could about the woman Josh had been with in Vegas. Maria Cameron. And any documents or proof that would explain why Josh felt so strongly that the child was his daughter.
She and Lindsay found photos of Becky and Josh, and stacks of deposition documents related to the court case. The testimony ripped at Annie’s soul for the way the insurance company’s lawyers tormented Josh on the witness stand. After ninety minutes of reading through the transcripts, Annie was ready to call Thomas Flynn and ask him to file a second lawsuit—this one against the attorneys for harassment of her son.
She moved on to a broken-down box on the top shelf of Josh’s bedroom closet. There were old yearbooks and awards from his participation in football and baseball, and at the top she found a thank-you card from Keith, Josh’s best guy friend from high school.
Annie read the note written inside:
Hey, man . . . thanks for getting me those miles. You gave me something I would’ve missed otherwise—a chance to tell
my dad I loved him before he died. You’re the best, Josh . . . no one like you anywhere.
Keith
Again, Annie felt she was learning about a young man she’d never known. She remembered Keith’s father dying a couple years back, and she knew Keith and his dad weren’t close. The man rode Keith relentlessly about his sports, yelling at him in front of the other parents if he struck out. That sort of thing. When Keith was a teenager, he spent a lot of time at the Warren house, confiding in them that he was sure his father didn’t love him.
Though she and Nate made a few attempts to help Keith and his father reconcile, the efforts never seemed to amount to anything.
What she didn’t know, until now, was that Josh helped his friend with airline miles. Josh didn’t fly, so how in the world did he come up with enough miles to get Keith back home from Ohio before his father died? However it had happened, somehow Josh had found a way to help his friend, and because of his efforts, Keith had gotten a priceless chance to reconcile with his father.
You were a hero two times over, my precious son. And I never got the chance to know that about you. Never got to tell you how proud that makes me. She held the card to her heart and for a priceless moment she had the distinct feeling she was holding Josh instead, holding him close against her the way she had when he was a little boy, when his future was still one long trail of endless possibilities.
The search continued until Annie was too emotionally exhausted to look through another envelope or file or dusty cardboard box. They would pick up the job again later, and maybe then they would find some sign that Josh was right about the girl being his daughter. But Annie doubted anything would come of the matter. If she was his child, Josh would have found out definitively by now.
This Side of Heaven Page 16
