Forgiven

  He was saying it again. “I’m so sorry, Ashley. We never meant to hurt you kids with this.”

  “I know, Dad. It’s okay.” She rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I love you. We’re all going to be all right. God will help you find him. I have to believe that.”

  Her father’s tears came harder, and Ashley understood the reason. Now, in addition to everything else ripping at his heart, he was feeling relief. All his life, he and her mother must’ve worried about how their kids would handle the news about their older brother if they ever found out. And now she was letting him know that nothing could tear at the soul of the Baxter family.

  Not even something this big.

  As she held him, Ashley was struck by the fact that this was what her parents had done for her seven years ago. They had held her and welcomed her and let her cry about the past. They had forgiven her. Now, in some ways, the tables were turned, and she knew what to do because it was what they would’ve done. What they had done. This wasn’t a time to push him or criticize him or force him into a decision he didn’t want to make.

  It was a time to forgive.

  The drive to the storage unit was a long time coming.

  Dayne had thought about going there ever since Katy had brought it up at the lake that day. The thought had been on his mind through the rest of the location shoot in Indiana and during the long days of filming back at the studio. Every night he told himself that the next day he would drive to the San Fernando Valley, to the rented space where his past was boxed up and locked away. The spot where one box contained the paperwork and documents associated with his adoption, along with a framed photograph of Elizabeth Baxter.

  But every day he’d found another reason to stay away. Too busy or too distracted or too much to think about. He was good at convincing himself that another day would work better.

  Now, with filming of Dream On almost completed, he had no choice but to go. He’d accused Katy Hart of running, but he’d been doing the same thing ever since he returned from Bloomington. Running from his relationship with Kelly Parker and from the shallow conversations on the set. Definitely running from the people at the Kabbalah Learning Center. They must’ve remembered his schedule, because the calls started coming a day after he returned home.

  “We know how anxious you are, Mr. Matthews,” one teacher told him. “We’re looking forward to having you in class. The upper world isn’t something you can reach without the teachings; you know that, right?”

  For the first few days, he answered the phone when they called.

  “Have you made the decision yet about your donation? About how much you’d like to give?” It was another teacher, one of the suited guys from his visit before the Bloomington trip. “I think we talked about passing through half the spiritual laws, you know, being free of the materialism and wealth of this world. Detaching from all impure thoughts.”

  Dayne stopped at a light and tapped his steering wheel. He wasn’t sure what it was about Kabbalah. The teachers who called weren’t saying anything different, but ever since talking to Katy, he heard it with fresh ears. Detaching from impure thoughts by writing a check? He wasn’t ready to chuck the entire thing, but he had doubts now—doubts where before he’d had only a strong desire to follow.

  What was that? How did something like that change?

  The light turned green, and he made a quick start. There were no paparazzi behind him now. In fact, they seemed to have laid off some, one of those things that went in spurts. He was still a major player in the gossip rags, but other scandals—a major Hollywood couple on the outs and a pregnant former teenage pop queen who’d left her unemployed husband. Yes, the magazines would always have something to write about.

  When he left home this afternoon, a guy in a Volkswagen had been parked outside his house. He followed Dayne for five blocks, but Dayne had lost him on the freeway. It felt good to be alone. The guy never would’ve known what he wanted to see at his storage unit, but he didn’t want anyone speculating.

  Traffic was busy on Ventura Boulevard, and Dayne was glad for his black-tinted windows. It gave him the peace he was always looking for, even for only a few minutes, because the public couldn’t climb in the SUV and read his thoughts or decide where he wanted to drive. They could know where he lived and whom he dated. Or worse, whom he couldn’t. But they would have to leave him alone in his black Escalade.

  Another red light. Dayne switched the radio off—nothing but commercials. Ahead was a billboard with Kelly Parker’s face twenty feet high. She was the new spokeswoman for a cosmetic company, a deal that doubled her income overnight. He looked at the ad and smiled. He was glad for her. She seemed more confident these days, less bothered with the press, less worried about what they thought. She wasn’t starving herself like before, either. Another sign she was doing well.

  But life with her was emptier than ever. He noticed a pack of gum on the console; and he slid a piece from it, opening it and popping it in his mouth in a single movement. He was pretty sure she was seeing Hawk Daniels on the side. The chemistry he and Kelly had to work at on camera seemed to come easily for Kelly and Hawk.

  She’d spent the previous night at a friend’s house, one of many recent girls’ nights out. Dayne leaned on his armrest and stared straight ahead. He didn’t care; she could do what she wanted. They were almost done shooting the movie, and then they could make decisions about the future.

  Or at least about their future.

  His future—as well as his past—well, he’d never had much say in that. Not about who his parents were or how they’d raised him. Acting was something he’d chosen, but he hadn’t planned on the public responsibility that went with it. His life was planned out for him by his agent and directors, the studios and marketing departments. He couldn’t cut ties and move to Bloomington. He couldn’t convince Katy that they might have a chance together someday. He definitely couldn’t make contact with the Baxter family.

  But he could leave Kelly Parker, and someday soon he would. He’d stayed with her because it was easier, better than a breakup in the middle of filming. A breakup like that would put him back on the front page, where he’d been last July after the arrest of the stalking fan. Wait and do it after, and it would be relegated to an inside story, half a page at the most.

  He laughed, but the sound was tired and defeated. See how he was? Measuring his time and days, his decisions in relationships by the response the tabloids would have to it. The situation was ridiculous, but he knew no other way.

  The storage place was just ahead, and he turned left into the parking lot. He had a key, so no need to mess with the front desk or any other person on-site. He pulled his vehicle up to the door of his own unit and cut the engine.

  Maybe that’s why he was here today. What had Katy said about the photograph of Elizabeth Baxter? That the way back has to start somewhere for everyone, right? He worked his gum as he climbed out and walked to the storage door. Nothing else in his personal life was working, so why not?

  He unlocked the door, went inside, and spotted the box right off. It was still in the middle of the unit, where he’d left it last time he’d been here, more than a year ago. He went to it and pulled up another box for a chair. Then he opened the one with the adoption documents inside, and there on top was her picture.

  She looked sweet and gentle, the same as she’d looked in the hospital that evening in Bloomington. He lifted the wooden frame carefully, as if it contained something of the woman herself. He rested it on his knees and studied her image. Bits of his conversation with her came back. When she’d understood who he was, she apologized to him. There, in the stuffy quiet, he could hear her voice as fragile and shaky as it had been that night.

  “We missed you. . . . You belonged with us. . . . I never stopped missing you, never stopped loving you.”

  When she had hugged him, he felt whole in her arms, all the questions answered, all the pieces in place. She’d told him that she’d tried to find
him, and he’d explained about the private investigator he’d hired. One of the best parts was that she didn’t know about his fame. He was just a guy who walked into her hospital room until he told her he was her son. Then that was the only part that mattered. She asked about his job, and she seemed happy that he was an actor. But not because she recognized him or knew him for his public persona.

  But those parts of the conversation weren’t the most distinct now. It was the last part, when she’d looked deep into his eyes and told him to find God. The same God who had taken so much from him. There she was, this woman who would’ve raised him if she’d had the chance, telling him basically the same thing Katy had told him: “Find God. Find your faith.”

  He held the photo closer, trying to remember every word. They’d spent an hour together, and she had talked about God from the beginning. Apparently she’d been praying every day for a miracle, that God would bring him to her. Her voice played again in his soul.

  “Things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to; we couldn’t all be together here. But in heaven we can all spend eternity together.”

  Dayne closed his eyes. What he would have given for more time with Elizabeth Baxter. She had loved him all her life; he believed that. Every birthday and Christmas and milestone, she’d thought about him and wondered about him. Same with her husband, John.

  Then there was the part he remembered more often than the rest, especially since his talk with Katy at the lake. Elizabeth had been grateful that her prayers were answered, that she could see him before she died. But when she learned that he didn’t share her strong faith, she’d grown misty-eyed.

  “I thought I wanted to see you because I needed to tell you I never forgot about you, never stopped loving you. But maybe it was so you could find a heavenly father in God.”

  He opened his eyes. There it was again, the same message. The hope that he might take his anger and confusion and frustration, his lack of privacy and lack of free will, and turn it all into a search for God.

  Dayne set the photo back on his knees and exhaled hard. “I’m not sure I’m ready,” he whispered. “I’m not even sure it’s what I want.”

  While he was speaking, he was turning the frame over, sliding his fingers beneath the metal fasteners at the back, working slowly since the frame was old and the back hadn’t been removed for decades. Finally, the black backing shifted and he eased it off the wooden frame. He set it on the box beside him, and suddenly there it was. Elizabeth had indeed written a note to him, in faded blue cursive, on the back of the photograph.

  His heart slipped into a rhythm he didn’t recognize, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. With great care, he lifted the photo out and ran his fingers over the lines on the back. Her handwriting was familiar to him in a way that didn’t make sense. He read it as easily as he read his own.

  Dear Son,

  I don’t know where you’ll be when you read this or if you ever will. You are hours old as I pen these words, wrapped in my arms the way I want you to stay forever. If you do find this, I hope you know that we wanted to keep you. You are a part of us, and you always will be.

  Dayne’s eyes blurred with tears. He blinked and found his place again.

  Your father and I made a mistake, but you, Son, are not a mistake. We have been forgiven, and wherever you are, I pray you, too, have been forgiven. Everyone needs forgiveness, and only Jesus can take care of that. If you find Him, Son, then one day you will find us too. Here or in heaven, it won’t matter. Then we’ll be together forever, just the way we are right now. And we’ll never have to say good-bye.

  I love you always.

  Mommy

  It was the last part, the last word that seized Dayne’s heart and broke loose a wave of sorrow. She had been his mommy, and someone had taken him away. Yes, his adoptive parents had been wonderful, but he never saw them enough, never felt like he was part of a family with them. Elizabeth, though, had wanted him all the days of his life—wishing for him, hoping for him, searching for him.

  And now it came down to this sweet, simple message.

  He read it again, and something began coming to life within him. When he was at boarding school in Indonesia, he and his friends would play basketball, sometimes when the rest of the students were sound asleep. One of the boys had a copy of the key, so they’d slip inside and turn on the lights. But then they’d sit there in the semidarkness waiting, because the gym lights didn’t come on quickly or instantly. They took time warming up, bit by gradual bit, until finally the room was fully lit.

  That’s the way he felt now, sitting in the storage unit.

  The words his mother had for him contained something he hadn’t considered before. He had been to the Kabbalah Center a number of times and heard teachers talk about impure thoughts and spiritual laws and having oneness with God. They talked a lot about reaching the upper world.

  But they never talked about forgiveness.

  His birth parents had obviously done something they were ashamed of. They had been a couple of innocent kids, madly in love, and intent on avoiding a sexual relationship until they were married. His private investigator’s research had told him that much. But they’d made a mistake, allowed themselves an opportunity, and Elizabeth had gotten pregnant.

  In her world, there had been consequences for that kind of problem, and so Elizabeth had been sent away. But here was the thing, the part that was still coming to light in his heart: Elizabeth wasn’t consumed with her parents’ role in what happened. She wasn’t caught up in anger and condemnation toward them, even though she could’ve been.

  She was more interested in being forgiven herself. Forgiven for going against what she knew to be real and true and right.

  He looked up at the white metal ceiling and saw her face again in his mind, the way she had looked in the hospital bed. Yes, she was sad and full of regret. She wanted more time with him, a chance to introduce him to the rest of the Baxter family. But she had an unwavering peace.

  In the face of death and sorrow and loss, she had a peace that he had searched for all his life. He looked at the back of the photo and read the letter once more. The lights were fully on now. Elizabeth had peace not because she had found oneness with God. Not because she’d written a check or dodged the impure thoughts.

  She had peace because she was forgiven.

  Dayne examined his life, the life he’d lived since his adoptive parents were killed in the plane crash. He’d gone to UCLA and studied drama, but his choices had been far different than they’d been at the boarding school. He had girls staying the night in his dorm from midway through his freshman year on.

  There weren’t enough hours left in the day to go through the list of people he’d used and walked on, the people he’d cheated or betrayed. Even now he was living a lie, sharing a bed with Kelly Parker when his heart and soul and mind were never anywhere near her.

  He’d lived a life contrary to everything his missionary parents had stood for, everything they’d lived and died for. He’d slept with married women and—in his early days—certain female casting directors just to get the edge on a part. Of course he didn’t have peace. Deep in his soul he’d always known that he was living wrong. But in his circle it was the way of life, a normal condition of Hollywood stardom.

  It was hot in the storage unit, and a drop of sweat slid down the side of his face. Whether he could live a life for God or find God, the way Katy and Elizabeth Baxter had talked about, he wasn’t sure. But in that moment he was convinced of a few things. He was done with Kabbalah. When he got home he would pack up everything he’d gotten from the center and toss it in the trash. There could be no oneness with God, no upper world, without forgiveness. He could see that now.

  That wasn’t all. When he got home, he would tell Kelly as gently as possible that it was over. He would remain her friend, the way people did after a Hollywood breakup, but nothing more. She was one of the few people he could still seek forgiveness from, and he’d do it befor
e the day was over.

  But the most important thing was this: he knew he wouldn’t have the peace he was looking for until he had complete forgiveness. Forgiveness for every wrong choice he’d ever made. He couldn’t go back and find all the people he’d hurt, all the women he’d used, and all the people he’d stepped on over the years. The only way to find forgiveness was to take it from the only one offering it.

  The very God he’d spent a lifetime avoiding.

  Dayne closed his eyes and tried something he hadn’t done since he was in boarding school, back when he was forced to do it. He lifted his silent voice to the heavens and prayed to the God of his adoptive parents and his birth parents. The God of Katy Hart. God, I need forgiveness. I’ve . . . I’ve made a lot of bad decisions, and I’m done with them, finished with them. I’m sorry, God.

  The sweat on his face became tears, and he held his breath, clinging to his composure. I need Your peace, and I need to see my parents again in heaven. I can’t do it. He spoke the next part out loud. “I don’t know how, God. So please . . . please forgive me.”

  A subtle wind blew across his soul. My son, I forgive you. I have loved you . . . with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.

  The words were so real, so clear that Dayne stood and turned a slow circle, staring at the corners of the storage unit. He still had Elizabeth’s picture tight in his hands, but where had the response come from?

  Finally he sat back down on the box and looked at her photo again. He’d been raised in the faith, hadn’t he? The response could’ve come from only one place. From the same God he’d been talking to. The words were from a Scripture verse he’d known a lifetime ago. He hadn’t given them any thought for twenty years, but now they were strong and real and vivid. Life-changing words.