Page 26 of This Side of Heaven


  Under other circumstances, Thomas would have been heartbroken for the little girl—living with a new set of short-term foster parents and without a mom or dad to love and care for her. But Savannah wasn’t any other child. She was heir to a multimillion-dollar estate, and her very existence came with a stipend for care that would put to shame the typical monthly amount given to foster parents. It was a detail Thomas wanted CPS to keep secret from any potential long-term foster or adoptive parents.

  But mostly Thomas wanted CPS to keep quiet about the money because he had a different plan for Savannah, a plan he hoped God was orchestrating. Before he could say anything to Annie or Nate Warren, he wanted to make sure Maria’s case couldn’t slip through the cracks, that Maria wouldn’t wind up Savannah’s guardian again in a few weeks or a month.

  Now that problem had been solved for good.

  The phone call he just ended was from the social worker, with the best news Thomas Flynn had heard in a very long time. “Savannah Cameron is officially a ward of the court,” the woman said. “I thought you’d like to know.”

  “So”—he pushed back from his desk, adrenaline flooding his veins—“her mother’s rights have been severed?”

  “Forever.”

  Thomas closed his eyes. Thank You, God. . . . You’re doing this; I can sense Your presence opening the right doors. He drew a steadying breath. “So you’re saying Savannah Cameron is legally available for adoption?”

  “Yes.” The woman’s voice held an undeniable smile. “Let me guess. You have someone in mind?”

  Thomas grinned at the memory of the recent conversation. He picked up the phone and dialed Annie Warren— first her home number, and then her cell. Both times he left her the same message. “I have an update on the situation with Savannah. Call me as soon as you can.”

  It was lunchtime, and Thomas ordered chicken salad to be delivered to his office. Otherwise he might miss Annie’s call, and this was one connection that couldn’t wait. His eyes found the plaque on his desk and he was struck by the faithfulness of the promise. For indeed, all things had worked to the good for the people who loved God—Annie, Nate, Lindsay, and Savannah. Even for Josh, who was safe in heaven.

  Thomas was halfway through a slice of sourdough bread when his secretary alerted him, “I have Annie Warren on the phone.”

  “Thank you.” His throat was suddenly thick, and as he reached for the receiver, he thanked the Lord again for all that lay ahead, all the good that would happen now because of these recent developments. Most of all, he thanked God for hearing the prayers of sweet Savannah, a fatherless little girl Thomas would meet one day soon.

  And for loving her enough to give her a second chance.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Annie and Nate were by themselves this time. They’d arrived in New York late yesterday, and after lying awake most of the night, they were sitting in the waiting room at the Manhattan office of Child Protective Services trying to believe this wasn’t all some wonderful dream. Especially three days before Christmas.

  “I can’t believe she’s going to be ours.” Nate could hardly sit still. “I prayed for this, but still . . . Josh would be so happy, Annie.”

  “I keep picturing him, all those years wishing Savannah could be a part of his life and ours, a part of her cousins’ lives.” She couldn’t stop smiling. “Everything he wanted is going to happen.”

  She didn’t state the sad obvious—that Josh was the only one who would miss out. All that mattered now was Savannah. Annie leaned against her husband and remembered Thomas’s phone call. His question was a simple one. “Would you and Nate be interested in adopting Savannah?”

  Annie would always remember what she did next. Nate was sitting across from her at their dining room table, and

  Annie let out a happy cry as she placed the call on speakerphone. “Say it again. Please, Thomas.”

  And Josh’s wonderful attorney had laughed. “I said, would you and Nate be interested in adopting Savannah?”

  The question was a rhetorical one, of course. Annie had talked about pursuing a custody battle for Savannah from the moment Josh’s wishes became clear, after the conversation with Cody Gunner. But always the answer was the same—if the local Child Protective Services didn’t deem Maria an unfit mother, then no one could force her to let Annie have custody even one day a year.

  Ironically, when it came to establishing paternity, the courts didn’t care if Josh had been denied access to his daughter. Savannah was his heir and with the exception of only the rarest cases, nothing would change the court’s mind. But when Annie talked about seeking visitation rights or custody, those same facts worked against them. Thomas had explained that since the girl had no prior relationship with Annie and Nate, no one could force her to have one now.

  Up until the call from Thomas, it looked like their family wouldn’t see Savannah again, at least not until she was an adult. Even then there would be the matter of finding her. Annie folded her hands in her lap and tried to keep from giggling out loud. Those days were behind them now. Thomas had worked quickly, filing the right paperwork and requesting a rushed adoption.

  Even Thomas was surprised when the judge overseeing the adoption agreed, under the circumstances, to sign paperwork on Monday afternoon. There would be a home study conducted and other paperwork to complete in the months ahead, but the documents she and Nate would sign later today would give them temporary custody until then.

  Annie remembered Josh’s funeral service and the words of the song played at the beginning and the end. Great is Thy faithfulness . . . Oh, God my Father . . . there is no shadow of turning with Thee. . . .

  The words were true, after all. His mercies really were new every morning. Today was tangible proof. And no matter what happened from here, Annie would never doubt them again. God’s good plans for Josh, His faithfulness to her youngest child, had taken him straight to heaven, to a better life than this one. And now Annie and Nate would care for his daughter all the days of their lives.

  Annie tapped one toe on the dingy carpet that covered the waiting room floor. She wished the social worker would hurry. It was hard to think of Savannah in a room behind the closed door. After all she’d been through in the past few months, she needed the love of her grandparents more than ever. She thought about the other details Thomas had shared with them. He expected that sometime before the end of the year, Annie and Nate would be named coadminstrators of Savannah’s settlement. In light of all they now knew, they told Thomas they would only take the monthly stipend if Savannah needed it for clothing or a car when she was a teenager. Otherwise, the money would wait for her—the way Josh intended.

  Annie stared at the brand-new pair of Minnie Mouse ears sticking out of her purse. She hadn’t brought them the first time they’d come here to see Savannah because she couldn’t have faced Daisy with the sad ending. Daisy, who had prayed every day that Savannah would come out of the picture and into Annie’s arms.

  But now . . .

  Annie heard the sound of a door handle, and she and Nate looked up at the same time. The social worker opened the door and smiled at them. “Mrs. and Mr. Warren?”

  “Yes?” Nate was on his feet.

  Annie stood at his side. “Is Savannah ready?”

  “She is.” The woman motioned to someone in the other room, and after a few seconds Savannah appeared in the doorway holding a small worn plastic Little Mermaid suitcase. The zipper was broken on one side.

  She set the bag down and put her fingers to her mouth, her chin tucked against her chest. In her eyes was the same shy uncertainty she’d had the last time they met—nearly two months ago. This time Savannah wore jeans that were an inch too short and her rumpled white sweater hung on her skinny frame. Someone had placed a blue bow in her hair, and the effect made her look closer to six years old than almost eight. “Savannah”—the social worker put her hand on the child’s shoulder—“you remember your grandparents?”

  “Hi, honey.?
?? Annie gave her a little wave. “It’s Grandma Annie and Grandpa Nate. Remember us?” Only then did Annie realize that the look in Savannah’s eyes wasn’t shyness or uncertainty. It was a hurt, borne from feelings of abandonment and betrayal. With her eyes, Savannah seemed to ask, “How can I trust you again? You left and look what happened.”

  Nate must have recognized the look, too, because he got down on one knee and held out his arms. “We’re very sorry, Savannah. About what’s happened to you.”

  She searched his face, and then she lifted her eyes—the eyes so familiar to Annie. Gradually, like the break of day, a sparkle came to life in her eyes, and when she couldn’t hold back another moment, she ran to them, ran for all she was worth, and flung herself into their arms. They circled her, holding her close and giving her the security she’d never had for a single day in all her life.

  Sobs came over their granddaughter, the same heart-rending sobs that had marked her when they’d said goodbye back in early November. Annie pressed her face in close to Savannah’s. “Oh, honey. We’re never going to leave you again.” Annie felt tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t cry—not with the joy consuming her. Still, for all the good ahead of them, Savannah needed to cry, needed to grieve all she’d lost before she could embrace all she was about to have.

  Annie and Nate stayed that way, knees on the floor, their arms around Savannah, and they let her cry. The whole time, Annie couldn’t stop thinking about Josh and how she had held out unrealistic expectations for her only son. Every mistake she ever made with Josh she promised herself and God she would never make with Savannah. Whatever the girl wanted to do when she grew up, Annie and Nate would love her and encourage her. They would tell her they were proud of her as often as they had the chance. The way Annie had failed to do with Josh.

  The social worker left the room. The legalities had been cleared and they could take Savannah whenever the three of them felt ready to leave. After a few minutes, Savannah dragged her fist across her face. “Can I have a tissue, please?”

  Nate hurried to the receptionist’s desk and snagged several from a flowered box. “Here, sweetie.”

  “Thank you.” She dried her face, blew her nose, and then stood and dropped the crumpled tissue in the trash can. When she came back to them, she put one hand on Annie’s shoulder, the other on Nate’s. “I’m glad you came back. Know why?”

  Annie ran her thumb ever so gently beneath Savannah’s eye, catching one last wayward tear. “Why, honey?”

  “Because remember how my daddy is on that side of heaven?”

  “Yes.” Nate was completely enamored of their granddaughter. He soothed his hand over the back of her head.

  “Well”—she looked at Nate and then at Annie—“since I can’t go there yet, I need you both to tell me stories of my daddy. So I can know everything about him.” She sniffed. “Okay?”

  The tears Annie didn’t plan to cry came unbidden. What would her answer have been several months ago? If Josh’s daughter had asked for stories about him, Annie would have treated the question the same way she treated the inquiries from people like Babette. She would have had to work to find something good, and stretch the truth to keep from dwelling on all the bad.

  But now—now she could spend the rest of her life telling Savannah about how her daddy had rescued two girls from certain death, and how he’d told the hurting people in his life about Jesus, and how he could find friendship with a person even if they were handicapped or too old to drive to the market. How he would go the distance so a buddy might have a final conversation with a father he’d never connected with. How he’d helped a friend find Jesus. All that and so much more.

  Annie brushed the tears from her cheeks with her fingertips and smiled at Savannah. “Actually, honey”—she coughed to clear her voice—“I’ve learned a lot about your daddy since he died.” She fought her emotions so she could finish her thought. “He was a hero, did you know that?”

  “Really?” Her eyes danced. “So he was a Prince Charming and a hero?” She grinned. “I bet that’s a really good story, Grandma Annie. The kind with a happy ending.”

  “Yes.” Annie breathed in sharp through her nose to keep her control. And in that split second she knew, with everything in her, that one day she would write Josh’s story, even if no one but her family ever read it. She sniffed again. “Yes, a very happy ending.” Savannah tilted her head and patted Annie’s hair with the softest little-girl touch. “I’m glad you can tell me about him. Because those stories about my daddy are all I’ll have. Those and my picture of him and the letters.” She smiled. “I still have the letters. They’re in my Mermaid suitcase.”

  Annie pulled the Minnie Mouse ears from her purse. “Here.” She handed them to Savannah. “These are from some friends of your daddy’s. You’ll meet them soon.” Annie felt her throat tighten again. “They’re a special gift.”

  “They’re pretty.” She turned them one way and then the other.

  “Want to wear them?”

  “Okay.” She handed them back to Annie. “I never had a pair of Minnie ears before.”

  Annie steadied her hands and slid the headband into place. “There. You look beautiful, Savannah.”

  “Thanks.” She felt lightly against the ears. “I think I’ll like Daddy’s friends.”

  Annie smiled. “You will.” She gently patted her arm. “Ready to go home, Savannah?”

  “Really?”

  Nate rose to his feet, grabbed her pink suitcase, and reached out his hand. “Really.”

  “Forever? Until heaven, I mean?” She tucked her fingers into his. She still looked wary.

  “Yes, honey.” Annie took hold of her other hand. “You’re our little girl now.”

  Savannah smiled and nodded. “I’m ready.” The three of them headed for the door, and even before they reached the sidewalk, Savannah was talking about Josh again. “Maybe you could tell me the hero story on the subway. We are taking the subway, right?”

  Annie cherished the full feeling in her heart. What more could God have given them in light of all they’d lost? The chance to know that Josh was with his Savior, and the opportunity to raise his daughter with the love and acceptance she deserved. And most of all the great privilege of teaching Savannah everything she could ever want to know about her daddy, her Prince Charming.

  This side of heaven.

  Already Savannah loved her grandma Annie and grandpa Nate more than anyone except Jesus and her daddy. They had wonderful stories about him, and on Christmas morning Aunt Lindsay and her husband and her two kids came over and everyone sat around the tree and Grandma Annie read to them out loud.

  The letters her daddy had written to her, every single one of them.

  She knew so much more about her daddy, because Grandpa Nate found lots and lots of pictures and so now she didn’t just have her favorite one with the wooden frame, she had a whole stack of books with pictures. Her daddy was handsome and happy and he loved Jesus. He also loved her, because he said so in the letters a hundred million times.

  Savannah still couldn’t wait to meet him, one day on that side of heaven. She had seen a few videos of him, and she was pretty sure she’d know him right away because she would recognize his laugh. And of course he would look like a Prince Charming, which he was.

  But in the meantime she felt like Snow White, living out a fairy tale. Because all those years when she prayed to find her daddy, she was never really sure if she ever would, and so she didn’t know how her own story was going to end. But now she knew, because she had so much love, more than she could believe. She had new friends, Carl Joseph and Daisy and Mr. and Mrs. Gunner, and a pair of Minnie Mouse ears prettier than any she could have dreamed about.

  But most of all she had Grandma Annie and Grandpa Nate and Aunt Lindsay and Uncle Larry and Ben and Bella, who were like built-in best friends. All that, and one day heaven, and a Prince Charming daddy who was a real-live hero.

  And what could be a happier ending
than that?

  Dear Friends,

  I’m not sure about you, but having just finished This Side of Heaven, I have tears streaming down my face. I long for the chance to hold Savannah in my arms and love away all her sorrow and loneliness, and I would pay dearly for a front-row seat to see that far-off reunion between her and her daddy, her Prince Charming who loved her so much.

  My characters always feel real to me. That’s why my husband can catch me at a moment like this and temporarily feel a great sense of alarm. Why in the world would his normally happy wife be sitting at her computer crying her eyes out? It’s why he teases me that one day I’ll make a very interesting old lady—when I can no longer tell the difference between my kids and my characters, and I pester him with questions about how come Carl Joseph hasn’t been by to borrow eggs in a while.

  Yes, the characters feel real to me.

  But in this book, the characters, the story line, the haunting sorrow, and the bittersweet triumphs were very close to home. You see, This Side of Heaven was inspired by the story of my brother, Dave. Like Josh, Dave chose to forgo college to become a tow truck driver. And like my main character, Dave pulled two teenage girls out of harm’s way and took the blow from a drunk driver one cold, wet New

  Year’s Eve seven years ago. The story line about Maria Cameron is entirely fictional.

  After that, the lines blur between Dave’s real story and the one that came pouring from my heart and into the pages of this book. In the real story there was no major settlement, no multimillion-dollar windfall. The lawsuit and depositions in Dave’s case all amounted to nothing more than so much extra heartache. And rather than my mom, it was I who wondered about Dave’s life—whether he had sold himself short and settled for mediocrity when he could have really been something.