She was a drug and he was forever addicted. He knew he would never feel this way about any other girl as long as he lived. But after that single minute he stepped back. It took a while before he caught his breath. “I . . . can’t. We can’t.”
Her heart was pounding as hard as his. Again, he could see it in the hollow of her throat. “I know.”
John took another few steps from her and moved closer to the groceries. “Let’s . . . let’s figure out dinner.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I’ll help.”
“Stay there.” He held up his hand. “Give me a minute.” His laugh was as much the sound of his body trying to cool down as it was his way of keeping the mood light.
They managed to make dinner and share a conversation about her parents and their many rules and John didn’t kiss her again. Not even when he dropped her off a few blocks from home later that night. After all, her parents thought she was at Betsy’s house. The last thing he wanted to do was shame her, even in the slightest.
Not just because it was the honorable thing to do. Though John would’ve spent the whole evening kissing her if he could’ve. But he also didn’t want her parents to see guilt in Elizabeth’s eyes. If they did, they might learn about him and find a way to break off what John and Elizabeth had just started. And that was a risk John simply couldn’t take.
Because he didn’t want Elizabeth merely for a night.
He wanted her for his entire life.
7
A shift had happened in Cole’s heart. Ashley noticed it halfway through the interview. At first Cole’s mood had been lighthearted. Curious of course, but the boy had no idea what a rebel his grandfather had been back in the day. Ashley had tried to tell him before the meeting today.
“Papa was very different in his early days,” she’d told Cole as they drove to her father’s house. “Just so you know.”
“That’s fine.” Cole hadn’t really registered the fact.
It had taken her father’s story to drive the point home.
Now Cole was quiet, pensive. He didn’t say anything as they climbed into their SUV and pulled away from her father’s small Bloomington house.
Ashley waited until they were out of the neighborhood before she interrupted the silence. “See, Cole? Grandma and Papa’s story is deep. There’s heartache in it, too. Coming up in the next few weeks.” She glanced at Cole. “I wasn’t sure how much he was going to share, if he was going to get into the specific details.”
Cole nodded, but he didn’t look at her. “I’m glad he did.” He kept his eyes straight ahead, as if he were seeing into the past, all the way back to the day Ashley’s parents first met.
One more try, she thought. “I learned things today, too. I mean, of course I knew their story. The basic facts. But this afternoon was very special for me. I’ll remember it always.”
This time Cole angled himself so he could see her. “Could we go by the cemetery? On the way home?”
Ashley felt her heart melt. “Yes, of course.” He had never before asked. Like most kids, he wanted nothing to do with death. Didn’t want to be reminded that life wouldn’t continue on in this wonderful predictable routine of days and weeks and seasons and years.
Death wasn’t something Cole had ever talked about. Especially after losing his Aunt Erin and Uncle Sam and their girls in the car accident a few years back. Ashley was sure that to Cole, cemeteries were creepy. Too much life to be lived to think about dead people.
But here was Cole wanting to spend a few moments contemplating a very great loss. One he probably hadn’t thought about since he was a little boy. One that might not have come to the surface at all if it weren’t for the photo. The one that gave Cole the idea for the project.
Ashley accepted the silence. Cole was so like her. His sense of adventure and his love for life, his passion for God, his determination with sports, and his propensity for the arts. The boy who had taken up drawing in the past year would always have a hold on her heart. The fact that after just an hour hearing her father’s love story, he was so moved he wanted to go to the cemetery.
Proof that Cole was deeper than most boys his age. He saw meaning in the mundane and now, what had started out as a school project had clearly woven its way into his soul.
They parked near the place where so many of their loved ones were buried. Without saying a word, Ashley walked beside Cole to her mother’s tombstone. The words were simple. Her name etched clearly for all to see that Elizabeth Baxter had been here . . . and she had gone, far too soon.
Cole bent down and traced his fingers over his grandmother’s name. He laid his hand on the dates at either side of the dash. “She died of cancer, right?” A quick look over his shoulder at Ashley. “That’s what happened?”
“Yes.” Ashley felt tears in her eyes. “She was very young.” Without hesitating, Ashley lowered herself to the ground and sat cross-legged next to Cole. “At least to me she was. Barely in her sixties.”
Again Cole didn’t say anything. He stared at the tombstone as the springtime breeze fell, gentle against their faces.
Only her father could tell the heartbreaking details of their love affair. Her dad alone knew their early days, the story that was the foundation of the entire Baxter family. But Ashley could fill in details that surrounded her mother’s death. Especially since Cole clearly wanted to know. She took her time, letting Cole process whatever he was feeling.
When she finally spoke, she used a soft tone. They were the only two people in the cemetery, so there was no need to talk any louder. “Grandma lived long enough to see me get married. That was something we all prayed for.”
Cole smiled, but his eyes were sad. “That’s nice.” He sat down on the ground beside her and picked at a few pieces of grass. “But it’s still so sad, Mom. Like . . . she should be here.”
Tears stung at Ashley’s eyes again. She swallowed hard and waited until she could speak. “I know. I feel that way, too. God’s ways are not ours, Cole. That’s what Grandma used to say.” Ashley sniffed a few times. “Grandma wanted so much to live. She wanted to see all you kids grow up and graduate from high school and get married. No grandma ever loved her grandchildren as much as she did.”
A few seconds passed and Cole wiped a single tear from his cheeks. “I wish I could remember her.” He turned his teary eyes to Ashley. “That was the hardest part today, Mom. The more Papa talked about her, the more I wanted to remember her. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her how glad I was that she and Papa fell in love. I kept wanting her to be there, next to him.”
Ashley closed her eyes for a moment and then looked at Cole. The familiar ache swelled and filled her heart. “I wanted that, too.”
Years had passed since Ashley had wept over losing her mother. Really let herself feel the loss and remember the feeling of her mom’s arms around her. But Cole’s transparency brought the hurt straight to the surface. It was all she could do not to break down.
“Isn’t that weird?” He searched her eyes. “Seeing your dad with Elaine? After your whole life of your parents together with each other?”
Her answer didn’t come quickly. She exhaled and stared at the distant trees, the blue sky behind them. “It was weird at first, definitely.” She blinked and dabbed her fingers beneath her eyes. “I thought he should stay single the rest of his life. Or at least wait a lot longer.”
“Because after a love like he had with Grandma, how could he love someone else?” Cole looked directly at her, like he was genuinely trying to understand.
“Exactly.” Ashley could feel her tears ready to burst through. She breathed the sweet spring air, the smell of jasmine nearby. “I was the last one of the brothers and sisters to understand. It wasn’t until your little sister died that Elaine and I found our way to a friendship.”
The sun moved out from behind a passing cloud. Cole squinted against the light. “What happened?”
“Well . . . I wanted Sarah Marie’s life to matter. Even if she on
ly lived a few hours.”
“I remember being there at the hospital. Everyone singing around your bed and taking turns holding her.” Fresh tears filled his eyes. “I remember holding her.”
Ashley pointed to the adjacent tombstone. “She’s buried there. Beside your grandma.”
“I saw that.” Cole used his thumb and forefinger to wipe his tears. “I don’t remember what Elaine did that day.”
It was something Ashley would never forget. “She brought me a baby girl outfit. The sort of thing you would do for any other baby girl. But Sarah Marie . . . no one thought to bring clothes for her because they knew . . . they knew she wasn’t going to live.”
Cole looked at the grass for a moment and then back at Ashley. “I never thought about that.”
Ashley couldn’t fight her tears anymore. They trickled down her face as she remembered that day. “Leading up to her birth, I’d been thinking how all I wanted was my mother. I wanted her there beside me, to comfort me and tell me everything was going to be okay. My mom would’ve understood that I needed at least something normal to mark Sarah’s birth. Something other little girls would have. It was one of the hardest parts of that time, not having my mom with me.”
“That’s so sad.” Cole reached for her hand. “I want you there for all those big moments. When I get married and when I have my kids one day.”
Ashley brushed away her tears once more. This moment was another way Cole was different from other boys his age. Deeper, sensitive. She drew a shaky breath. “So there I was, thinking how much I missed my mother, when Papa and Elaine walked into the hospital room.”
Ashley could easily remember the way she felt that day, how she’d been overcome with sadness until that single moment. “Elaine walked up and handed me a wrapped gift. Inside was the sweetest little pink outfit.” Ashley closed her eyes again, overcome by the memory.
Without saying a word, Cole put his arm around Ashley’s shoulders. For a while they sat there, side by side at the foot of her mother’s tombstone, and just let the sadness be. How kind of God to give them this time together. Time that clearly was important to both of them. Ashley needed this, a moment when she could just sit with her son and remember the losses of yesterday.
And the way they still hurt today.
Ashley leaned her head on her son’s shoulder. He was taller than her now, and becoming a man like Landon. Just the way Ashley had always prayed he would. Here and now she drew strength from him, just knowing that he cared about the things that hurt her. Knowing that they hurt him, too.
“That was a turning point with Elaine and me.” Ashley sat up straight again.
Cole stood and walked to the nearby tombstone. “Sarah Marie.” He looked back at Ashley. “She lived only those few hours?”
“Yes. Not even a day.” Ashley smiled through blurry eyes. “But what a full and rich life she had.”
Cole sat down beside her again and plucked absently at a few more pieces of grass. He looked deep into Ashley’s eyes. “So Grandma is taking care of Sarah Marie.” It wasn’t a question. “She’s not here with us grandkids on earth. But she’s with the girl cousins in heaven.”
Again it was hard for Ashley to see through her tears. “Exactly. And Erin and Sam. All of them together.”
“Like your painting.”
“Yes.” One of Ashley’s paintings depicted her mother and all the Baxter family who had passed on. It hung in the entryway of Ashley and Landon’s house. “Those already home in heaven.”
Cole nodded. He didn’t say anything for a minute or so. Then he took a deep breath. “I think I understand a little better.” He brought his knees up to his chest and looped his arms around them. “It’s just . . . at first as Papa told his story, I kept thinking how it wasn’t fair. She was the one he loved the most. His first love.” Cole stared at his grandma’s tombstone again. “She should still be alive.”
This time Ashley put her arm around Cole’s shoulders. “You understand a little better, why it took Papa time to agree to all this.”
“Definitely.” Cole brushed a few pieces of grass off the edge of the stone. “All this storytelling will make him miss her more. Maybe more than ever.”
“Right.” Ashley thought for a minute. “Maybe we should pray for Papa. That this won’t be too hard for him. We still have three more visits to hear his story.”
“True.” Cole looked at her. “You wanna go ahead?”
“Sure.” Ashley prayed that her dad would remember the details of his love story with her mom, but that in the process he wouldn’t get so lost in the sorrow that he couldn’t be happy today. “Elaine needs him, and he needs her, Lord . . . so please help Papa stay happy about the life he has now. Even as he gets a little sad about the life he lost when he lost Mom. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
A quiet fell over them. There was nothing more to say.
Cole helped Ashley to her feet and the two of them returned to the SUV. The afternoon was one Ashley would never forget. She would always remember these hours with Cole, and the way he had wanted to spend time at the cemetery with her. She could hardly wait to tell Landon.
On the drive home, Cole turned on the radio and almost at the same time Kyle Kupecky’s hit song “This Is Not the End” came on. It was Ashley’s favorite. Sometimes when she was alone in the car she’d sing it at the top of her lungs.
Like it was her anthem.
Cole loved it, too. He had a better voice than Ashley did and he knew every word. “This is not the end . . . the night is dark but the stars are shining . . . This is not the end, so keep your faith and trust His timing.”
Ashley’s eyes were dry now. The song, a reminder of a very powerful truth. Cole was still singing along.
“And if you fall . . . land on your knees, reach out to heaven and you’ll see . . . This is not the end.”
They were halfway home when the song ended. Cole turned down the radio and looked at her. “What about your love story, Mom? You’ve never told me what happened with you and my dad.”
Suddenly Ashley couldn’t draw a breath. She kept her eyes on the road, pretending to be too involved in driving to really hear what Cole said. No, Lord . . . please don’t let him ask this. Not now. Not after such a beautiful day together.
“Mom?” Cole made a sound that was more confusion than laughter. “Did you hear me?”
“What?” Ashley gave him a quick look. “Sorry. My story? Right . . . What do you want to know?”
“Well . . .” Cole raised one shoulder and let it fall again. “I’m not sure. Everything, I guess. I don’t want to be all old and one day my son’s in high school and he wants to do an interview and that’s how long I have to wait to know your love story.”
“Thanks, Cole.” She allowed a sarcastic laugh. “All old, huh?”
“Not you.” He chuckled, clearly realizing how he must’ve sounded. “I’m just saying. I’d rather know now. Family stories are important. They’re part of our legacy. Our history.”
“Like your assignment.” Ashley kept her voice cool, but her heart was racing. She never wanted him to ask this. Never wanted to go back to those days again. Please, God . . . not my story. Please, no.
“Right. But not for school, you know? Just you and me, talking about what happened with your story.”
Ashley gripped the steering wheel so tightly she wondered if it might come off. Panic wrapped its strong fingers around her throat. Ashley chided herself. This was ridiculous. Just because he asked didn’t mean she needed to break into the story here on the drive home. She forced her tone to sound casual. “Sure, Cole. We can do that sometime. Absolutely.”
“Really?” Cole studied her. “You seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Not at all.” She smiled at him and relaxed her grip on the wheel. “Maybe after you finish your project sometime.”
“Okay.” Cole seemed satisfied. “Maybe we can go eat somewhere and you could tell me then. I really want to know more.
The details.”
The details. Ashley shuddered. “Of course.”
With that, Cole turned up the radio again. It was another song Ashley loved. Francesca Battistelli’s “Holy Spirit.” A song about the Spirit of God being welcome in whatever moment might be happening.
Even a moment like this.
Where Ashley was practically having an anxiety attack thinking about telling Cole the truth about his father. What kind of man he had been. What sort of situation had led to Ashley getting pregnant. And how she almost . . .
She couldn’t let herself go there. And though the song spoke of peace, Ashley couldn’t shake the anxiety. Help me, God. I can’t talk about the past with Cole. I can’t do it. The panic consuming her was unrelenting. And as they pulled into the driveway she felt desperate for just one thing. The peace that passed all understanding, and the only source of that peace.
The Holy Spirit of God.
8
Cole had a mountain of homework to finish, but first he made time for their family dinner. His dad had cooked for them—the way he had promised to do every Thursday while Cole interviewed his papa. Tonight was spaghetti. Cole walked up to the pan on the stove and stirred the sauce. It looked a little watery. Nothing like his mom’s sauce.
But that didn’t matter. His dad was buttering the garlic bread, so Cole pulled the Parmesan cheese from the refrigerator. “Want help?”
“Sure. Just don’t let me burn the bread. I’ll never hear the end of it from Janessa.”
Cole laughed. “True.” His little sister Janessa loved garlic bread.
His dad waited by the oven, potholders on his hands, and looked at Cole. “Mom says you stopped by the cemetery.”
“We did. I needed to think about everything. Like why Grandma isn’t here when Papa loved her so much.”
“I know.” His dad seemed to let that sink in. “I wonder that, too, sometimes.”
“God’s ways are not our ways.” Cole felt the corners of his mouth lift some. “That’s what Grandma used to say.”