She didn’t want to leave. She had other things she wanted to ask him, other things she wanted to say. But her own emotions were too uncertain. It seemed the closer they grew together, the more afraid she became. The more vulnerable she became.
Could she let him go when the time came? Would it be sooner than she thought?
A light cough behind her made her spin around. Rick’s grandfather stood in the doorway, his coat folded carefully over one arm, his eyes on Rick.
She felt as if she were balancing on a precipice. She didn’t want to leave Rick with his grandfather, the man who didn’t appreciate his grandson. She didn’t want Colson to take Rick away. Not now. Not when she felt as if things were moving in a positive direction.
Help me to let go, Lord. Help me to think of what’s best for him.
“Will you come by tomorrow?” Rick asked.
Becky only nodded as a knot of sorrow thickened her throat. At the doorway, she glanced back. Rick was still looking at her.
And she sent up a quick prayer for the grandfather and the grandson.
Rick’s wrist was throbbing and it hurt to breathe. He should ring for the nurse to come and help him back into bed, but pride kept him in his chair. He preferred to face his grandfather sitting rather than lying down.
Colson sat down in the chair Becky had just vacated and laid his coat on his lap, fussing with the lapels, looking anywhere but at his grandson.
“I came as soon as I heard about the accident,” Colson said after clearing his throat. “You were unconscious the first time I visited.”
“Becky told me you came.” He angled his chin toward the fruit basket. Leanne and Colette had opened it and helped themselves at his invitation. “Thanks for the basket.”
“Yes, well, it is the thought, of course. Doesn’t look like you’re in much shape to eat hard fruit.” Colson smoothed his hand over his coat, then looked up at Rick. “How are you feeling?”
“Stiff and sore. The doc says I’ll probably be out in a couple of days.” Rick shifted his position, pain shot through his chest and he sucked in a quick breath through clenched teeth.
“Do you want me to ring for the nurse?”
Rick waved his offer away as he rode out the pain.
The usual awkward silence dropped between them like a chasm. Rick couldn’t help but compare this visit to the one with Becky’s family. Words and laughter flew around them like birds. It was never still, never quiet.
Now he could hear the swish of nurses’ feet on the floors outside his room, the murmured conversation that took place at the nurses’ desk, the creaky clank of a cart pushed down the hallway.
Colson cleared his throat, his fingers toying restlessly with a button on his coat. “So how is the magazine going?”
“It’s going okay.” Which was a lie, but he wasn’t going to tell his grandfather the truth. He still had time to turn the magazine around. Time to get himself out of his grandfather’s snare. He wished he had never taken Colson up on his challenge.
Even as the thought formed, he knew it wasn’t true. If he hadn’t come out here he wouldn’t have met Becky.
“That Becky girl seems like a nice person. Are you two getting along a little better?”
“Yes, actually. We’ve found a way to work together.”
The tension his grandfather usually generated in him slipped away at the thought of Becky. She was a strength to him—he who never thought he needed strength. She had become so much a part of him, he didn’t know what he was going to do when he had to leave.
“I’m not very good at this sort of thing,” Colson confessed, looking away from Rick. “Much more adept at business negotiations where the facts are laid out.” He stopped, cleared his throat again. “I’ve not done right by you. I know that.”
Rick said nothing, allowing his grandfather to navigate this new territory on his own. Truth was, Rick didn’t know himself where Colson hoped to end up.
“When I heard about your accident, I knew I had to come. To talk to you.”
He was quiet a moment and Rick kept silent.
“For the past few years, I’ve been trying to find out how to fix this,” Colson said quietly. Then, to Rick’s surprise, Colson laid his narrow hand on his arm and squeezed lightly. “Fix the mistakes with your mother.”
“What mistakes, Grandfather?” Anger edged Rick’s voice. “The only mistake my mother made was to fall in love with the wrong man. And maybe the next one was to come to you for help. You were ashamed of us.”
Colson nodded and withdrew his hand. “That is the unvarnished truth. I was ashamed. At first.”
“Was that why we had our own wing in the house?”
Colson stood and hung his coat over the back of the chair. “Your mother wanted it that way. And, I have to confess, I didn’t argue with her. It was shame, hers and mine, that kept you there. When she died, I thought God had punished me for what I had done to her.” He shook his head. “The mistakes I spoke of were the ones I made with your mother. I had done things so wrongly.”
“What do you mean?”
Colson slipped his hands in the front pockets of his suit pants, his back to Rick. “When her mother died, your grandmother, I was overcome with grief. It hurt so much and I didn’t want your mother to feel the same pain. I let her do what she wanted. Let her run around. She was a wild child and after a while I didn’t know how to control her.” He shrugged his shoulders and shot a pained glance back over his shoulder at Rick. “When I finally realized I should do something about it, it was too late. We fought over one of her many boyfriends. She left and only contacted me when she needed money. Four years later she came back with you. She didn’t know who your father was. That was why I could never find him like you had asked me to.”
As he spoke, Rick felt his tender dreams of his mother shifting, being brought out into the harsh light of reality. His grandfather was not a sentimental person, indeed he was starkly proud of his honesty. He could no more lie than a raindrop could fall upward. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked. “I didn’t know this about my mother.”
“When did we ever talk?” Colson turned to face Rick, the light over Rick’s bed casting harsh shadows over his sharp features. “I only knew that you loved your mother. She changed so much after you were born. Before she died, she said she found the Lord. Which I was thankful for. I also knew that I didn’t want to repeat the mistakes I had made with her. So I sent you away. I entrusted your care to professionals who knew better than I did how to take care of you.”
“But you were still ashamed of me.”
Colson shook his head. “At first. Yes. And in my mind the only way I knew to erase the stigma of your birth was to give you the best I could. And to try to keep myself out of your life so you wouldn’t turn out like your mother had.” Colson drew his hand over his face, his eyes closed. “I didn’t know what to do with you, but for many years I have not been ashamed of you, Rick. Quite the contrary.”
“Did you ever love me?”
Colson kept his hand in place like a shield and Rick felt a lingering, twisted pain borne of many older ones.
“I loved you to the best of my ability,” Colson said finally, his voice muffled. “I was not a good father. I didn’t think I deserved to be a grandfather. But yes, I loved you.” He lowered his hand. “I will always love you.”
And as he did, Rick caught the silvery glint of tears in his grandfather’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rick,” Colson said, making no move to erase the rivulets of moisture running down his wrinkled cheeks. “I know I did wrong by you. That’s why I sent you here. Atonement. You’d been running around the world, not settling down. I couldn’t give you family. Community. I knew the Ellison family would take you in. Through them I hoped you would see what a family was like. How it can work.”
Rick felt his anger slide away as he thought of Becky and her family.
“So the magazine wasn’t really all that important.”
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p; Colson shook his head slowly. “It was a means to an end. A challenge I knew I could give you that would keep you in one place for a while.”
Rick looked over at the ledge full of flowers. Thought of the church services he had attended. The times he’d spent with Becky’s family. All because of a deal struck with a man hoping for better for his grandson.
“What if it didn’t work?”
Colson pulled out a snow-white handkerchief and carefully wiped his tears away. “I could only pray, Rick. Pray that God would give me a second chance to let you see how love works.”
Rick thought again of Becky. Of their disagreements. Of their moments of closeness.
Of his growing feelings for her. Was that love? Did he dare think that he might have discovered that elusive emotion with her?
“Will you forgive me, Rick?” Colson asked quietly. “Forgive me for leaving you alone? And then for meddling too late in your life? For not being the grandfather I should have been?”
Rick closed his eyes as his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t moved from his chair, yet much had happened in the past hour. And again he thought of Becky and what they had spoken of.
How could he not forgive his grandfather when over the past few days he knew he had much to be forgiven of, as well?
So he looked up at the man he had spent so much time running away from and silently held out his hand. Colson took it and in that moment the simple, wordless gesture was enough.
Colson cleared his throat and released Rick’s hand.
“I should tell you I’m making arrangements to have you moved to a Toronto hospital.” Colson smoothed his hand over his coat, still avoiding his grandson’s gaze. “I was wrong to push you here. To issue ultimatums. I’m not going to hold you to it now. After you’ve healed, you’re free to do what you want with your life. I haven’t done well for you in the past. It’s foolish to think that I can do any more for you in the future.”
Rick felt as if his grandfather was holding open a door for him that he had yearned for since he came here. A chance to leave, to go back to the life and freedom he had missed so much when he first came.
A few months ago he would have jumped at the chance.
But now?
“I don’t want to move back to Toronto.”
“But you don’t have to keep working on the magazine. I realize now it wasn’t right of me to push that on you. It was a mistake.”
“Maybe. At first. But I want to finish what I started.”
“Why? I thought you would be thrilled to get away from this obligation. I know you weren’t happy with me when I asked you to do this.”
“I wasn’t. But it’s grown on me.”
“So what is holding you here?”
“I want to turn the magazine around. Right now it’s having some financial trouble-“
“Do you need some help?” Colson broke in.
Rick shook his head. “I want to see this through on my own,” Rick said softly, thinking of Becky. “I feel like I’m a part of something that has continuity. A past and a future.”
“And when you have brought this magazine around, would you stay?”
“I just might.” He looked up at his grandfather and a sudden thought came to him. “For now, though, I need you to do something for me. You set up a trust fund for me when I graduated. I have never touched it. I’d like you to do something with it now.”
“Just say what and when. I can arrange it this afternoon.”
“And one other thing. There’s a small photo album lying beside my bed. Can you bring that here, as well?”
Chapter 14
“I’ll be as discreet and truthful as I can, Jake.” Becky twirled the phone cord around her finger, praying Jake Groot wouldn’t change his mind. It had taken over an hour of talking, convincing and praying but they had finally come to a consensus on how the article was going to be presented.
“I have to confess, talking about Kerra was the last thing on my mind when I agreed to this interview.”
“God moves in mysterious ways, Jake. I think this might be an opportunity for redemption for you and Kerra.” Becky toyed with the tape recorder in front of her, surprised at how events had transpired. Surprised and thankful.
“Dilton is having kittens thinking about the consequences, but it’s been a good incentive for him to find Kerra before your magazine hits the stands.”
“I’ll pray you do, Jake.”
“Thanks, Becky. Whatever happens, we’ll keep it quiet until your magazine comes out. It’s the least I can do for you.”
“You take care, Jake. And like I said, I will be praying for you.”
“You’re a good person, Becky. I hope the best for you, as well.”
Becky said goodbye, then hung up the phone, dragging her hands over her face. The call had drained her emotionally, but as she made a few quick notes on the paper in front of her, she knew she had done the right thing.
That Jake had done the right thing.
Becky only wished she could have done it face-to-face, but Jake’s and her schedule didn’t allow for it.
It had taken some time for Becky to come around to Rick’s way of thinking. The truth needed to be told, but in a way that freed Jake from his secret. Told in a way that built up and encouraged and at the same time was honest in its dealing with the subject matter.
As she turned back to her computer to type in what she had written, she thought again of Rick. Of his sorrow. Of the shame his mother had had to endure, being a single parent.
She composed on the fly, images of Rick and Jake intertwining in her mind. The child of an unknown father and the father of an unknown child. It was precisely these images she’d kept in mind when she’d spoken to Jake and convinced him to let her take a different direction with the article.
Now she mined these same images, reaching for the right words, the correct phrases, the proper imagery. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as the words poured out of her. She read, corrected and reread, moving inexorably on to the end.
When she finally got there, she felt a momentary sense of disorientation.
Then she blinked, looked around her office with weary eyes and frowned at the numbers on her clock—1:15 a.m.
Her shoulders ached and her head was tired, but a sense of elation filled her. She didn’t reread the piece, but instinctively knew that this was one of the rare and priceless times that she had taken an ephemeral idea and faithfully transferred it to words on paper.
Painters must feel this way when a painting they’ve created matches the image in their head, she thought, stretching her stiff arms above her head. She had stepped out of her own comfort zone, pushed herself into an unknown place and this article was the result.
As she lowered her arms, she caught sight of a travel brochure she had, on a whim, picked up from the travel agency. It was a typical tropical scene. Waving palm branches above an azure ocean. Tanned, fit couples lazing on the beach, doing nothing productive.
So tempting.
She had canceled a lot of meetings to spend time with Rick. To be by his side as often as possible. And it hadn’t been as hard as she had thought. People had filled in. Tasks she thought could only been done by her had been completed. This afternoon, she got a call from one of the mothers of the youth choir. The minister had told the mother about Becky’s “boyfriend” being in the hospital and she was volunteering to help out in the interim.
Rick was right. Saying no wasn’t as hard as she thought it was. And though she still had to battle her own guilt, at the same time it had given her an exhilarating sense of freedom. It had given her empty time. Time that she could choose to fill.
Something she hadn’t had in years.
And she had given someone else the opportunity to serve.
She backed up the file to the cloud, turned off her computer and trudged out of the office to her car. She took a short detour, past the hospital on her way home, wondering what Colson had told Rick.
Wondering what Rick was going to do now that his grandfather had come.
Would he change his mind about going back to Toronto? The magazine was going further and further down financially. It was looking so bad, she doubted if the article they had just done on Jake would be enough to turn the sales around.
It was out of her hands completely.
As she drove home, she sent up a quick prayer for peace for both herself and Rick.
Becky phoned the hospital the next morning to tell the nurses to notify her when Rick was going to be moved. She wanted at least to say goodbye before he left. The nurses said they hadn’t heard anything about him moving just yet but that they would call her as soon as they did.
She handed in her copy and went over the layout of the issue with Cliff Anderson and his assistant. Trixie had some problems with payroll that needed straightening out and she’d had to cover for Rick on an appointment to discuss a potential advertising account with the magazine.
Each time Becky’s phone rang, her heart stuttered.
She pushed and prodded and worked through her lunch, but in spite of it all she wasn’t done until eight o’clock that evening. She hadn’t had time to eat and had managed on sweetened coffee all day. Her head was buzzing by the time she locked the office door behind her.
She made the trip to the hospital in record time, her palms slick with sweat. What if the nurses hadn’t told the new shift that she needed to be called? What if he was gone already when she got there?
She tried to stifle the momentary panic that gripped her, but by the time she made it to the station where Rick was, her mouth was dry and dread pushed against her throat.
She pushed open the door to his room and ice slipped through her veins. His bed was neatly made up. She walked farther into the room as if to verify.
The room was empty.
He was already gone.
A Place in Her Heart Page 19
