One Tuesday Morning / Beyond Tuesday Morning

  He prayed they'd forgive him.

  But though he looked forward to being with them, he was torn apart at the thought of leaving Jamie and Sierra. That night as he and Jamie parted at the foot of the stairs and said good-night, Eric was tempted beyond reason to follow her. Just this one time. To lie beside her and hold her, love her and cry with her and wish that somehow they could keep the sun from rising in the morning.

  The thought left as soon as it had come, and he merely hugged her once more and kissed her on the cheek. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, and he spent the entire night dreaming of Laura and Josh. What if they didn't want him back? Maybe the damage he'd done wasn't something he could fix? Questions and strange bits of imagined conversations played in his mind all night.

  In what felt like five minutes, he woke to the sounds of Jamie and Sierra in the kitchen. She had told him he could wear one of Jake's outfits home. Other than that, he had nothing to pack. Everything he'd thought was his really belonged to Jake.

  Eric showered and shaved—surprised at how the scars on his face had faded. He still had to be careful with the new skin, but it appeared that the doctor had been right. Eventually, it would be almost impossible to tell what Eric had been through.

  Except in the private places of his heart.

  He made his way to the kitchen, and Sierra ran to him, the way she had done every day since he came home from the hospital. Jamie smiled at him from her place near the stove, and he gave her a quick wink before turning his attention to Sierra.

  “Daddy! Guess what?”

  Eric had to swallow hard to keep from crying. “What?”

  “Mommy's making blueberry pancakes! Isn't that great? It's my bestest kind of all!”

  He swept her into his arms and nuzzled his face against hers. God … watch over this child … and one day give her the father she needs. Please, God. “You're sure pretty today, princess.”

  “Yeah, but my hair's too straight, and Mommy says I get to play with Katy.” She pulled back, her chin lowered in a way that tugged hard at Eric's heart. “Can you curl it, Daddy, even though it isn't Sunday?”

  Eric blinked back the beginnings of tears. “Of course, honey. I'd love to.” He slid Sierra back to the floor and watched her scamper to her spot at the table. Then he went up alongside Jamie and leaned his head close to hers. “I don't know if I can do this.”

  She sniffed and raised her eyes up for a minute. “I've been up since four … talking to God.” The pancakes sizzled and she flipped them. Then she looked at him and smiled. Her eyes were dry, but he could see she'd been crying. “You can do it, Eric. We both can. And one day everything will all be okay again. God promised me.”

  They took their places at the table, and Sierra chattered happily about being in kindergarten the following fall and Christmas coming up and the fact that pineapple was her favorite fruit. Next to blueberries.

  When the meal was over, Eric cast a glance at Jamie. “Want help with the dishes?”

  “No, thanks.” She shook her head, her eyes glistening. “I think you have some hair to curl.”

  Eric followed Sierra up to Jamie's bedroom and plugged in the curling iron. It was a routine he'd learned weeks ago, and one that had given Sierra and him many special times to talk. Sierra bopped about along the bathroom counter, looking at Jamie's makeup and perfume bottles, completely unaware of the way her life was about to change.

  The curling iron was ready, and Eric clicked it a few times. His signal that Sierra needed to come to him and stand still while he worked. She did, turning her back to him and letting her long blonde hair cascade down her little back. Eric opened the iron and pinched it around one section of Sierra's hair. Then he rolled it halfway up her back.

  “So … you're going to Katy's today, huh?”

  “Yep.” Sierra held her chin high, careful not to move. “Katy's never seen my hair with curlies in it.”

  One by one Eric worked his way around her head until gorgeous curls surrounded her like a halo. Eric unplugged the iron and set it back on the counter where it could cool.

  At that moment, they heard Jamie calling to her. “Sierra … I have to run you over to Katy's house. Come on … it's time.”

  Sierra wriggled her nose at Eric. “Thanks, Daddy. No one does curlies like you.”

  Eric caught the child's chin between his thumb and forefinger and looked straight into her eyes. “You know something?”

  “What?” Her little-girl eyes danced, the way they always did whenever she was with him.

  “I think Mommy would do an even better job at curlies.” Eric lowered his voice and glanced at the door. “Actually, she's the best curler in the whole world. She just doesn't want everyone to know.”

  Sierra's eyes grew wide. “Really?”

  “Really.” Eric could feel his heart breaking. “So this Sunday before church … I think Mommy should get a chance to curl your hair.” He forced a smile. “Okay?”

  “Okay! Can I tell her?”

  Eric gave a quick shake of his head. “Not yet. Not until Sunday, all right?”

  “All right.” Sierra took his hand then and led him toward the door. “We gotta go now. Katy's waiting.”

  Jamie was in the foyer, watching them as they walked hand in hand down the stairs. She spoke to Sierra but kept her eyes completely on Eric. “It's time to go. Say good-bye to Daddy, and we'll head over to Katy's, okay?” She took a few steps back, her eyes still locked on Eric's. He understood. She was giving him this time, this space to say one last good-bye.

  Eric worked the muscles in his jaw and sat back on his heels. He met Sierra's eyes for what would be the last time and whispered, “Come here, baby.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Bye, Daddy. Have a good day.”

  A sob lodged itself in Eric's throat, and for a full minute he couldn't say anything. Instead, he simply held her, stroking her back and begging God to be the father she wouldn't have after that morning. When he could finally speak, he pulled away some and smiled at her. “I love you, Sierra. You know that, right?”

  She giggled. “Silly, Daddy. A'course I know that. You love me better than pumpkin pie.”

  “That's right, honey. Much better than that.” Eric could barely breathe for the pain in his soul. He raised his eyebrows. “Butterfly kisses?”

  She clapped her hands and gave a quick nod of her pretty head. Then their noses met and brushed against each other three times. Next his eyelashes brushed against her cheek, and hers brushed against his. When they were finished, he took hold of her shoulders. “Bye, Sierra.” And in that instant he remembered something from Jake's journal, something he had always told Sierra whenever he'd left for a shift at the fire station. “Be good, honey. And don't forget to pray to Jesus.”

  “Okay.” She kissed him one more time and then spun around and skipped over to Jamie. With one final wave over her shoulder, she grabbed hold of Jamie's hand, and the two of them disappeared around the corner.

  Eric pulled himself up and sat on the third stair, his head in his hands. He listened as Sierra and Jamie made their way into the garage, Sierra chattering and giggling about the day she'd be spending with Katy. He heard the garage door open and the car back out and slowly drive away.

  Only then did the tears come, tears he'd been holding back since he'd learned his real name. He cried for Sierra who would find out that afternoon that her daddy had died in a fire, and for Jamie who would have to raise her by herself. But he also cried for himself, and for the piece of his heart that had just driven off with one very special four-year-old little girl.

  A girl he would never give butterfly kisses to again.

  ****

  Jamie had known for the past few days that the pain wouldn't really come until she told Eric good-bye. She'd been honest about her time with God, and the promise He'd made her that morning. She'd been lost in prayer and Scripture, reading Jake's highlighted verses, when very clearly she'd heard a whisper in
the center of her soul.

  I will neither leave you nor forsake you, My daughter … I know the plans I have for you … plans to give you a hope and a future, and not to harm you.

  All her life Jamie had stayed away from pat answers, from preachy people who seemed to have a Bible verse for every situation in life. But the words she'd heard that morning from God were nothing short of divine. They breathed life into her at a time when she surely would've suffocated from the heartache otherwise.

  After she dropped Sierra off at Sue's house, Jamie and Eric drove together to La Guardia. She knew it might be awkward, but she wanted to see Laura, wanted to watch Eric and her together so she could have closure on this time in her life. Two minutes into the drive, Eric reached for her hand and wove his fingers between hers.

  “You've been wonderful, Jamie.” He studied her, his eyes still red from the tears he must've cried after saying good-bye to Sierra.

  “Thanks.” She smiled and shifted her gaze back to the road ahead of her.

  The morning traffic was light, so the drive took less time than usual. They found a spot in the parking garage and made their way to the security checkpoint, where the airport had created a waiting area for guests, who since September 11 could no longer go all the way to the gate without a boarding pass.

  Jamie looked at her watch and led Eric to a quiet place near a wall of windows at the back of the waiting area. Laura Michaels' United Airlines flight was supposed to land in three minutes.

  They faced each other, leaning against the windows with less than a foot separating them. Jamie reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped package. The ache in her heart had spread to her arms, and the gift felt like it was made of lead. “Here.” She handed it to Eric. “It's an early Christmas present.”

  Eric took the bag and for a long time he looked at her, lost in her eyes. Jamie wanted to cry, but she couldn't. Not yet. She nodded to the package in Eric's hands, and finally he glanced down. He peeled back the paper and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Inside the package was a bound set of pages. Blue letters across the top page read only this: “In case you ever forget …”

  He opened the cover page, and Jamie heard his breath catch in his throat. She had copied dozens of pages from Jake's journal—key entries about the importance of fatherhood and the joys of being married to his best friend. At the back were another twenty or so pages, copies from Jake's Bible, complete with the shaded highlighting and scribbled notes in the margin.

  His eyes met hers again, and he needed no words. He clutched the bound document to his chest and pulled her close. “Jamie … I'll never forget you. Not you or Jake.”

  She lifted her head, desperate to keep from breaking down in this, their final moment. “You're so much like him, Eric.” Her smile was genuine, growing from someplace that, despite her sorrow, could understand the value all their time together had wrought. “One day in heaven the two of you will have to have a long talk.”

  A rush of people began to make their way past the security gate, and Eric turned. Jamie watched him, wondering if he could see his wife yet. Then he pointed, his voice thick. “There she is. Near the back.”

  He faced Jamie once more and their eyes held. This was it … in a few minutes he'd be gone from her life forever. “I love you, Jamie. I'm a different man because of you. Because of Jake.”

  She listened, still stunned by how easily he could've been Jake. She could feel the tears building within her, but she only nodded at him. “Go, Eric.” Jamie cast a glance toward the blonde woman, getting closer to the waiting area. “She's looking for you.”

  Eric nodded. “Do you want to meet her?”

  “No.” Jamie struggled to find her voice. “I'll leave quietly. Besides … the two of you have a plane to catch.”

  “Okay.” He worked the muscles in his jaw, his eyes still searching hers. “Kiss Sierra for me, will you?”

  Jamie gave a quick nod, and the moment faded. Eric hugged her once more, a long hug, the last they would ever share. Then, without saying another word, he turned to leave. Jamie watched him work his way through the crowd of waiting people, until finally his wife spotted him. The blonde woman hurried her pace, her mouth open in a kind of unbelieving shock. The two of them came together, and Eric swung her in his arms.

  Jamie felt something pierce her heart, and the tears came then.

  She blinked so she could see clearly, and she watched the woman kiss him square on the mouth. For a moment they spoke to each other, their faces inches apart, lost in the moment despite the milling passengers making their way around them.

  Then the woman linked her arm through his, and without looking back, Eric led her toward the security line where they would pass through before boarding their plane.

  “Good-bye, Eric … take care of her.” Jamie whispered the words and then slowly, her soul aching, she turned her back on the man she'd thought was her husband, the man who—because of Jake—had taught her to love God, and live without fear. The man who—because of Jake—had learned how to love again.

  She passed a hundred people and saw none of them. Every step took her farther from the delusion that somehow she could keep Jake alive, that by living with Eric she still somehow had a piece of Jake.

  Six minutes later she walked out of the airport and into her new life—the one where she would only have Jake's words to remind her of a man whose love would stay in her heart a lifetime. A love that no terrorist attack could ever take away. One that had continued to live within her, growing her and changing her. And not just her, but Eric Michaels, as well. A love that would live on long after the rubble from September 11 was cleared and hauled away.

  A love so great it lived even now.

  Jamie drove with the window open, and the breeze mingled with her tears and stung at her cheeks. She allowed herself to grieve the loss of not just Jake, but Eric and the tangible presence of her husband's love—even as it had played out in the life of a stranger.

  She had to find Sierra now, had to tell her that her daddy was dead. The words she was about to say would be the most difficult in all her life, words she knew would've killed her if not for the time she'd spent with God that day, those past months, hanging on to Him for dear life. Her strength came from Him alone, from the truth she'd gained by reading Jake's Bible.

  A truth she could hear Jake whispering in her heart even now.

  She pulled up in front of the Hennings house, parked the car, and forced herself up the sidewalk. In the end it had been the right decision, keeping the truth from Sue and everyone else. Accepting it had been hard enough for her and Eric. And telling anyone would've opened up potential situations neither of them wanted to deal with. Not that Sue would've called the newspapers. But word would've gotten out, and then what? That wasn't what they'd wanted. And by keeping the news to themselves, they'd been able to focus on what was important—helping Eric find his way home.

  Jamie ordered her feet to climb the Hennings' porch steps. In some ways she couldn't truly grieve Jake's death until now, when she could share it with everyone else who made up her world.

  She knocked on Sue's door and took a slow breath. Give me the strength, God … please.

  The door opened and Sue appeared. Her smile faded as soon as the two of them made eye contact. “Jamie … what is it?” Sue's voice was breathless, her eyes filled with fear.

  Jamie only held up her hand and swallowed back another sob. “Give me … let me talk to Sierra first. Okay?”

  Sue hesitated for only a moment. Then she hurried back into the house and returned with Sierra. The child stopped, her eyes wide when she saw that her mother was crying. “Mommy, what's wrong?”

  Jamie held out her hands and picked Sierra up the way Jake had always done. The way Eric had done. One day, when she was old enough to understand, Jamie would explain about the man who had lived with them after the attacks on New York City. But for now, the simple delayed truth was all the child would understand.

  ??
?Baby … Mommy has some sad news to tell you …”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  DECEMBER 5, 2001

  Eric hadn't stopped talking since Laura met him at the airport. The whole way back to Los Angeles, he caught her up on all that happened to him since he woke up in the New York hospital.

  Laura was dumbfounded by the story. “So you really thought you were this … this Jake Bryan?”

  “I didn't know any different.” Eric took hold of her hand, and she tried not to look shocked. How long had it been since he'd held her hand? Laura couldn't even remember, but she dared to hope that maybe … just maybe he'd had a change of heart living with this Jamie woman.

  He launched into another chapter of the story, the part where he'd found the dead man's journal and Bible. “For two weeks all I did was read that thing. I memorized everything about what it meant to love my family and care for the people around me.”

  Laura wasn't sure what to say. “Jake was a great guy, huh?”

  “Better than great.” Eric looked around as though he were searching for the words. “He loved God so much, Laura. So much. And everything about his life and his family was a reflection of that love.”

  Constantly throughout the conversation, Laura had to remind herself she wasn't dreaming. It was one thing to have the shock of finding out Eric was alive. And another altogether to dare to dream he'd become the man of her dreams while living the life of a man she'd never met.

  They were crossing Arizona by the time Eric finished the story. “So what I want to say, Laura, is … I'm sorry.” He drew close to her and kissed her slowly on the lips.

  Again she had to convince herself that the moment was real. Eric never kissed her like that, not in years. He pulled back some and studied her eyes.

  “I remember now, and I know how awful I've been.” His eyes narrowed, and the pain there was something he'd never let her see before. “And I remember Sarah.”