The photographs. That’s what he could work on now. John walked to the bookcase and removed the album, the one that contained so many photographs of Elizabeth. He carried it to the same chair where he’d sat earlier. Father, I’m going to need Your help on this.
This is for My glory, son.
Chills ran down John’s arms. The voice was familiar. Often when John was alone, talking to God, he heard a response. Words that appeared at the center of his heart, deep in his soul. But this time John wondered if he’d heard correctly. Cole’s project was for God’s glory? How could that be?
You’ll have to show me, Lord. But until then I just need Your strength to get through these next four weeks.
The truth was this: Many years had passed since John had gone back to the beginning. Since he’d allowed himself the luxury of reliving those days when he and Elizabeth met and fell in love. Telling their story would take him there again.
And once there, John wasn’t sure he’d ever want to leave.
4
It was all Baylor’s fault. Or maybe it was his own. Whatever the case, Cody couldn’t stop thinking about Andi Ellison. Not so much where she was or what she was doing. But how he had lost her, how he’d let her get away. And why he hadn’t done something to stop her from leaving.
Ever since the talk with his player, Baylor’s words stayed with him. Maybe it’s not too late with Andi. Maybe it’s not too late. The statement stayed with him even now, as he wrapped up the fifth day of spring training. Practice was going well. They were a week into it and already it was clear that next football season held promise.
But Cody wasn’t consumed with thoughts of rushing yards and passing percentages as he left the Oaks Christian field that Wednesday afternoon. It was Baylor’s words that filled his head. Maybe it’s not too late . . . maybe it’s not. Cody grabbed his bag from his office and flung it over his shoulder. He wore his sunglasses through the athletic building toward the parking lot.
He didn’t feel like talking today. Get home, get Riley, and take another run. That’s all he wanted. Time alone where he could talk to God and reckon with his wayward feelings. He walked with a purpose, and the glasses worked. Kids waved to him, but he got all the way to his car without a single conversation.
He took the 101 freeway two exits south and reached his townhome in ten minutes. Not until he had Riley on his leash and the pavement beneath his feet did Cody think again about the possibility. Another chance with Andi? The idea that she might even talk to him again? All of it was impossible. And now that he could hear himself think, he could easily understand why.
She had made the answer painfully clear when she broke off their second engagement. Cody didn’t love her the way she wanted to be loved. That’s what she believed. Cody was distracted and distant and whatever was causing his inability to connect with her, she couldn’t live with the loneliness.
Not for one more day.
Those were pretty much her words that day, the day they broke up for the last time. Since then Cody had run from the pain. Like he was running now. Whenever he thought about Andi, he replayed their last memory. It was over. She had ended things. Period.
So why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
Cody stopped near a stream and waited while Riley ran through the tall grass and sniffed at the trunk of a withered oak. The occasional break was for Riley’s sake. Dogs went crazy if they didn’t smell things, didn’t get a chance to explore. Cody uttered the slightest chuckle. Maybe that was his problem. He needed to leave here, explore more.
Get Andi out of his head.
Cody was still breathing hard from the half mile run from his townhome to this spot at the base of the mountain. His T-shirt was damp. But not as damp as it would be once he and Riley reached the top of the hilly path. Today Cody might just keep running.
Riley returned to him, his tongue hanging out, eyes happy.
“Good boy, Riley. Good boy.” Cody patted the top of his furry head. “You ready?”
They took off again, and this time every step seemed to draw him back. Which was just how Cody had hoped the late afternoon would go. He remembered breaking off their first engagement, and he remembered regretting his decision to do so. The fall and winter that followed had been crazy painful. He felt terrible, the way he felt now. Cody could remember thinking daily about Andi, where she was and why he had been so foolish to let her go. A few times after that first breakup he’d tried to call her but she never picked up.
Cody had made it through the holidays and into January without seeing Andi or her family. But then one Saturday morning in February, Cody had stopped at his favorite coffee shop and there she was. Andi Ellison. Sitting at a table by herself, her laptop open, headphones on. Long blond hair spilling down her back.
For the longest time, Cody had simply watched her, as the conversations and smell of fresh brewed coffee surrounded him. She looked more beautiful than ever. Still, something in her eyes was different.
Like the loneliness had hardened her heart a little.
After a minute, Cody walked up and took the chair beside her. She did a double take, and a quick gasp slipped through her lips. She pushed back from the table, removed her headphones, and stared at him. Her heart was beating so hard, he could see it in her throat. “Cody . . .”
“Andi.” He looked at her, quiet for a few seconds. Waiting until she seemed less caught off guard. “I saw you and . . . I had to . . . say something.”
Cody held on to the way he had felt that morning, and for a while he paused the memory right there. Riley was still padding along beside him, still loving the run. Cody, too. They reached the top, where the sun was sinking into the Pacific. Cody stopped just long enough for Riley to get his drink.
His memories were fueling him, so today Cody did what he wanted to do. He kept going. The trail ran along the top of the mountain range, so if Cody wanted a longer route, this was the way to get it. His heart returned to the memory. Andi and him that Saturday over coffee.
It seemed to take Andi a full five minutes before the color returned to her face. But even then her eyes looked closed off. As if she had nothing but walls where he was concerned. Her hands had trembled and her voice hadn’t sounded like her own. That’s how shocked she seemed to be at the sight of him.
Cody did most of the talking.
“Andi . . . I’m sorry. I was wrong.” Cody hadn’t been sure where he was going with the admission. But if he never talked to her again, he wanted the moment between them to count. He leaned closer. “I never should have broken up with you. I think about you, Andi. Every day. And I pray for you.”
Cody hadn’t been sure what part of his statement resonated with her. But as soon as he mentioned praying for her, the walls slowly began to drop. She looked at him more intently. The hurt in her beautiful eyes was obvious. Enough to suck the oxygen from the room. “You . . . pray for me?”
His eyes filled with tears. Did she think he was completely heartless? “Every day.”
Neither of them said anything for a while. Andi folded her hands on the table and stared at her fingers. As if she was seeing the place where her wedding ring would be. Cody had known the conversation wouldn’t last long. Andi was too hurt to talk. That much had been clear. Cody struggled to find something to say. “I’ve called you.”
She nodded, but didn’t look up.
“So . . . you don’t want to talk? Not ever again?”
Only then did Andi lift her eyes to his. Tears pooled for her, too. “I can’t, Cody. Don’t you get it?” Anger flickered in her tone. “We were supposed to be married by now. I was going to be your wife.”
The defeat he felt in that moment was something he’d never forget. “I know that. It’s all I want, Andi. All I think about.”
She searched his face, as if she didn’t believe him. Couldn’t believe him. She gathered her purse and her laptop. “I have to go.”
“Andi, please.” Cody kept his voice quiet so they wouldn?
??t make a scene. He stood and walked with her to the parking lot. “Just hear me out. I said I’m sorry.”
When they reached her car, Andi turned and stared at him. “I can’t do this again, Cody.” Tears began to fall down her face. “Goodbye.”
As she drove away, Cody knew he should’ve felt hopeless about the situation with Andi. But that day he remembered something Andi’s dad had told him once. They were talking about two characters in a movie and Keith had said something that had stayed with Cody.
“The opposite of love is never hate,” he had told Cody. “Hate cares too much. The opposite of love is apathy. People who don’t care at all. That’s the opposite of love.”
Before running into Andi at the coffee shop that day, Cody had worried that she didn’t care about him. That she was apathetic and had moved on, determined to forget him. But that wasn’t true. Andi still cared.
Her tears were proof.
And for that single reason, the next day Cody called her. He didn’t expect her to answer, but he had to try. The phone rang three times, and just before Cody hung up, he heard her voice. “Why are you calling?” She sounded tired and maybe a little afraid.
“Because.” He closed his eyes, begging God for a chance. “I still love you, Andi.”
The memory froze there.
Cody was almost home from his run and he needed to get cleaned up. He had promised his mom he would stop by tonight after dinner. Maybe she would help him understand why a single player’s comment had set him back like this.
“Come on, Riley, boy.” He and the dog went inside. Cody poured fresh water in the dog’s bowl and took a shower.
An hour later he walked through the door of his mother’s small house a few miles away. She met him just inside and they hugged. “So good to see you, Cody. I thank God every time.”
Cody smiled. “Me, too, Mom.” He grinned at her. “Mmm. Chocolate chip cookies?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “I missed baking for you all those years when you were growing up.” She led the way into the kitchen. “I won’t miss it again.”
Cody’s mom had spent most of Cody’s childhood in prison for dealing drugs. But she’d been out for several years now. She was a cashier at Costco during the day and at night she attended a number of Bible studies. His mom once said, “I’m as addicted to God as I once was to drugs. Only with Him I can never overdose and no one’s going to throw me into prison.”
Their lives were proof that God alone could heal a person’s addictions. No matter the struggle. His mother’s drugs and Cody’s alcoholism. Both things of the past now.
They sat at the table with a plate of cookies and coffee. Cody ate one practically whole. “Mmmm. Still the best, Mom.”
She beamed. “Whatever you don’t eat you have to take with you. I sure don’t need them around here!”
After a few minutes, the conversation drifted to Oaks Christian and Cody’s football team. Whether it was his lack of enthusiasm about the upcoming season or something in his voice, his mom picked up on it.
She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”
Cody tried to feign innocence. “What’s what?”
“Something’s wrong.” She leaned back in her chair. “What’s bothering you?”
He didn’t want to trouble her, didn’t want her worrying about him. But he did want her opinion. “One of my players said something the other day. It got me thinking.” Cody paused. Then he told her about the boy’s comment and how he’d been wondering about Andi ever since. He narrowed his eyes. “I guess I don’t really know what happened after we got back together. Why we couldn’t make it work.”
For a long time his mother said nothing. Then she gave Cody a patient look. “She was right to leave. You were distracted, Son. You didn’t treat her like the gift she is.”
His heart sank to a new low. He’d been afraid she’d say this. “I loved her. I don’t know why I was like that. I mean . . . I really don’t know why.”
Again his mom watched him, taking her time. “Was it Bailey?” She hesitated. “I always wanted to ask you. Ever since Andi broke things off this last time.”
“Absolutely not.” It was a question Cody had asked himself. Whether Bailey Flanigan was somehow at the center of how he had acted, how he hadn’t cherished Andi. But every time his heart exonerated him. “No, Mom . . . It wasn’t that. I’ll always care for Bailey. I remember what it felt like to be in love with her. But those feelings changed.”
“Hmmm.” His mom gave a slight nod. “So what was it? Why didn’t you treat her right?”
“It’s complicated.” He sighed. “And now . . . well, now I guess I’m upset because we didn’t get closure . . . not like we should have. But she’s finished with me. She won’t return my texts. It’s completely over.”
“And you really don’t know why?” She raised her brow.
“I think I know. The PTSD came back. Every nightmare made me more closed off to her . . . to everyone.” He would always be upset with himself for how he’d handled that. “I should’ve told her.”
“Cody!” His mom’s face filled with concern. “You didn’t tell her?”
Remorse came over Cody again. His mom knew how his mind would flash back to the days when he served in the Middle East. The day the vehicle he was riding in hit an explosive device. The horrible afternoon when he lost his lower left leg.
He had never kept any of his struggle from his mother, and for a while he even thought they were gone. But not long after he’d asked Andi to marry him for the second time, the episodes came screaming back. No warning.
Cody waited several seconds. He’d replayed those days dozens of times. Even though the episodes scared him. Even though they took him back to his darkest hours, and even though he hadn’t wanted to burden Andi with them, always he came to the same conclusion.
He should have told her.
Whatever his reasons for hiding the truth from Andi, they were wrong. If they would’ve ended up marrying, he would have had to tell her someday.
He still prayed that God would take the PTSD away for good, so there would never be another night when he’d lay his head down on the pillow only to spend his sleeping hours in some desert village being shot at.
But if that never happened he would’ve had to share the truth with Andi. The way he would’ve wanted her to share her deepest fears and concerns with him.
Cody looked at his mother and shook his head. “I didn’t tell her.” He would’ve crawled over glass if it meant getting back to that time, back to the season when he still could’ve confided in Andi.
“Cody . . . no.” His mom’s expression was a pained mix of shock and hurt.
An angry frustration doubled inside him. “I thought I was being kind. Doing the right thing. I didn’t want to involve her in my nightmares.” He shrugged. Why did it always seem that his soul was hurting? “I figured she deserved more than that. I kept thinking . . . if I prayed enough it would pass and everything would be great with us.”
A sigh slipped from Cody’s lungs. “I know so much more now.” He had learned techniques for dealing with the episodes. Memorized Bible verses that brought peace, practiced deep abdominal breathing, and disassociation, where he forced his brain to think of a vivid memory of the beach or a sunrise every time the flashbacks started. Not that Andi would listen to any of that.
He didn’t blame her.
His mother reached across the table and squeezed Cody’s hand. “Here’s my advice. It’ll always be my advice when it comes to Andi Ellison.”
He expected his mother to tell him to let her go, to realize that it was time to completely and fully move on. He’d be thirty in a few quick years and it was time he thought about meeting other girls. Dating again.
Instead what she said practically dropped Cody to the floor.
“You go after that girl. You call her until she answers her phone and if you have to, go and fly to wherever she is. And when you find her, you tell her the truth. How the
way you acted had nothing to do with her and everything to do with you.” His mother paused. “Where is she, by the way?”
Cody had thought about that, too. He actually didn’t know exactly where Andi was. She worked for a disaster relief organization, but whether she was in the Midwest helping tornado victims or in the flooded plains of the Gulf States, Cody had no idea. He shrugged. “She’s off social media. It’s been a long time since anyone’s talked to me about her. I have no idea where she is, Mom.”
“Well then . . .” His mother stood and walked across the kitchen for the coffeepot. She poured them each a cup and then returned. As she sat down she looked straight at Cody. “Do what you have to do to find her, Son. You can’t move on until you sit down with her one last time and tell her how you feel.”
Again her words caught him off guard. He raked his fingers through his short hair. “She won’t talk to me. I already know that.”
“Only God knows.” She smiled. “That’s what a certain son of mine used to tell me.”
Cody let her words breathe life into the lonely deserts of his heart. After a few seconds, he nodded. “You’re right.”
“So you’ll try?” Her voice was gentle. It was clear she wasn’t pushing him to find his way back to Andi. She just didn’t want him to have regrets. “At least call her?”
“I’ll pray about it.” He stood and stretched. “I need to go. Riley’s waiting for me.”
“My grand-dog!” His mom was on her feet getting a bag for the cookies. As she filled it she laughed. “I have to bring him a bone this weekend.”
Cody took the bag of cookies and kissed her cheek. “That’s why he loves you.” He lifted the bag. “Thanks for these. Extra running this week for sure.”
By the time he reached his car he was thinking of Andi again, how he could look for her. What it would take to have one last conversation with her, the chance to tell her how he felt. Cody was sure she would turn him down and he would be left feeling worse than before. But his mom was right about one thing. He’d never know unless he tried. And there was one thing in the way.