One Tuesday Morning / Beyond Tuesday Morning

  “I don’t know. Maybe she overheard us talking one day, or maybe someone else told her. Anyway, that’s not the point. Katy’s right; I don’t blame her for telling Sierra the truth.”

  “Did Sierra ask about it?”

  “Yes.” Jamie opened her eyes, sat up, and slipped out of bed. She had nowhere to go so she stood there, unmoving. “She wanted to know why Katy’s daddy died in the Twin Towers and her daddy didn’t. And then she wanted to know about the helmets.”

  “Great.” Sue sighed. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. You don’t need this right now.”

  “It’s okay. I need it sometime and apparently God wants it to be now.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Tell her the truth.” Jamie took slow steps toward the tall dresser, the one that had been Jake’s. His Bible and journal sat on top, where she could easily find them when she needed to get lost in his heart, his mind, his faith.

  “Oh, Jamie, no wonder you want me to pray.”

  Tears stung at Jamie’s eyes, but she resisted them. She put one hand on Jake’s Bible. Beside her, within her, she could feel the Lord watching, standing guard, even though she hadn’t heard Him speak to her that night. He was there and He would see her through the next day. “Yes, that’s why.”

  “I’ll be praying the whole day. Call me when you’re ready to talk about it, okay?”

  “Okay.” Jamie ran her fingers over the Bible’s worn leather cover. “Thanks. And who knows. Maybe it’ll be the best thing for both of us.”

  They said their good-byes and Jamie clicked the off button. She tossed the phone back onto the bed and took Jake’s Bible from the dresser. With her eyes on the cover, on the smudged place where his engraved name had all but worn off, she backed up until she hit the rocking chair that had always been in their room.

  She sat down and opened the old book to a section of Scripture she’d read before. Philippians, the fourth chapter, thirteenth verse. Carefully she turned the pages, savoring the yellow highlighted sections and the precious notations Jake had written in the margins until she reached the right spot.

  Her eyes found the Scripture immediately.

  I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

  She looked out the window at the old elm tree outside. It was hidden in the shadows, but she could see its leaves rustling in the evening breeze. She’d been sitting outside watching Sierra play the first time she found that verse. Her mind savored the words again. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

  Once more she looked at the page, wanting to soak in the truth long enough to lean on it come morning. But instead of seeing the Scripture about strength, her eyes landed on verse four. Jake had highlighted the next few lines in blue, and Jamie couldn’t remember ever reading them.

  She squinted so she could see the words more clearly in the dim light of the room.

  Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

  It wasn’t one verse but four. Four wonderful, hope-filled lines of truth that breathed new life into her. The best part was that the Lord was near. Wasn’t that exactly how she’d been feeling while she was talking to Sue? That the Lord was truly near?

  And what were His words of advice for troubled hearts? Rejoice! Find a reason to be glad, and then don’t get anxious. Instead pray, and God, because He’s so good, will provide a peace the world knows nothing about.

  A thin dark line was drawn from that section of Scripture to a scribbled notation near the top of the page. This was her favorite part of reading Jake’s Bible. The words he’d added gave her an insight she hadn’t had when he was alive.

  She shifted so the light was better.

  God wants everyone to be gentle, even us tough FDNY guys. The reason? He is closer than we think.

  Jake was an amazing man, strong and gutsy and gentle in every way. But times like this she wished she could see him one more time, see him face-to-face and tell him how much it meant to her that he’d left a road map for her and Sierra to follow. Yes, Jake was right; God was closer than they thought.

  She closed the book and held it to her heart. Take…if only you knew how much I miss you. Tears came and this time she didn’t stop them. I know you so much better now.

  For a while she sat there, pretending Jake was beside her, lying in bed sleeping, ready for an early-morning shift. If only she could crawl into the covers and find him there one more time, his sweet breath warm against her face. Nights like this, if she thought hard enough, she could almost feel him stirring in his sleep, putting his arm around her and making her feel like the safest, most loved woman in the world.

  She opened her eyes and looked out the window again.

  God had pulled her through every day since September 11; He would get her through the talk with Sierra. She set Jake’s Bible back on the dresser, brushed her teeth, and climbed into bed. Lying there, she did a quick inventory of the day: the trip to Chelsea Piers, how she had enjoyed sitting by Aaron.

  But as she fell asleep it was something else that made her smile.

  After tomorrow, Sierra would know the truth about Jake’s death; there would be nothing left to hide. She would simply tell their daughter what really happened and be there for her, whatever she needed.

  And best of all, God would be with her. Strength would come not only from the truth in the Scriptures but from the truth Jake himself had written. And that was almost like having him there too.

  NINE

  The beach was cold, just like Sierra thought. But it wasn’t rainy, and that was a good thing. Rainy days were better for inside, cuddled up near the fire with Mommy and Wrinkles. She didn’t care about the weather; just that Mommy would finally tell her about the weird thing Katy said about her daddy and his helmet. She was dying to make sense of it all.

  Mommy was driving. She turned the car into the parking lot, and Sierra sat a little straighter so she could see. Yep, it was their favorite beach. The one they came to last summer with Katy and her mommy. But it looked different with winter on it, not as blue and happy. The water was ice gray and the sand looked wet. “You sure it won’t be too cold?”

  “If it is, we won’t stay long, okay?” Mommy smiled at her. She reached out and took Sierra’s hand. “I’ve always wanted to come out here in the winter, before the snow comes, all by ourselves.”

  Sierra peered down the beach a ways. “There’s two people in chairs there, Mommy. And three over by the water.”

  Her mommy did a little laugh. “I don’t mean all by ourselves, exactly. I mean without the summer crowds.”

  “Oh.” Sierra wiggled her nose. She could already smell the seawater.

  The car stopped and Mommy squeezed her hand. “Okay, let’s go.” Mommy took the picnic basket and the big Bible, the one that belonged to her daddy before he died in the fire. She also took two chairs from the back of the van and a big, bushy blanket, the warmest kind they had.

  Sierra grabbed her pink Bible and pulled her coat tight around her middle. Out on the sand it wasn’t as cold as she thought. A medium sort of cold, but that’s all. Plus the sky was the bluest blue. The seagulls looked like white kites against that sky.

  She pushed her feet over the sand and kept up with Mommy. They already had a plan. Sierra would read something favorite from her Bible, and then Mommy would read something favorite from hers. Well, not really hers, but sort of hers. She always read the Bible that used to be Daddy’s.

  The more they got close to the water, the more Sierra started to remember. This was the place they came a year after Daddy died. They brought a balloon that day. Sierra squinted at the water. She gave butterfly kisses to the balloon and wrote something on it. A message for Daddy. Yep,
that was it.

  This was the same exact place.

  She stopped, and after a few steps, her mommy stopped too.

  “Sierra?” Her eyes had sun in them so she made a shade with her hands. “What’s wrong, honey? You need a rest?”

  It was a long way from the car to their spot near the water. But she wasn’t tired. “No.”

  “Okay, then…” Mommy sounded curious and maybe a little confused. “Come on. Let’s set up.”

  “I’m sad.”

  Her mommy’s face got melty. “Sad? Why, honey?”

  “Because this is where we sent the balloon to Daddy when I was in kindergarten.”

  A lonely breath came from her mommy. “Yes. You remember that?”

  “Mmhmm.” She started walking again. Her mommy did too. “I was just a little kid, but I remember a lot. Even now that I’m grown-up.”

  “Yes.” Her mommy bit her lip. “I remember too. And you’re right, honey. It is sad.”

  A few more steps and her mommy set down the chairs and basket. But not the Bible. Sierra helped her open the chairs. They sat down and Mommy spread the blanket over their legs. With their coats and the blankets, it was actually sort of snuggly warm.

  Sierra looked out at the water. “It’s kind of happy too.”

  “What?”

  “Being here.” She gave her mommy her best smile she could. “I think Daddy can see us in this place, all the way from heaven.”

  “Yes.” Her mommy’s eyes got small. She looked out at the water. “Yes, Sierra, I think there must be windows in heaven. And I’ll bet you’re right; I’ll bet Daddy is up there smiling at us right now.”

  Heaven was a long ways away, but Sierra liked to try to see it. She made a shade over her eyes and stared straight into the blue. For a long time she just looked and didn’t say anything. The seagulls and the waves did all the talking.

  “Sierra?” Her mommy scooched her chair over closer. Now their arms were touching. “Ready to read your favorite verse?”

  “Yes.” She pulled her children’s storybook Bible out from beneath the snuggly blanket and turned to the story about Peter and his friends in the boat one stormy night. She was an excellent reader. That’s what everyone said. She looked at the first words and did a cough so her voice could say them.

  “‘One day Peter and his friends were in a boat in the middle of the night.’” She used her finger to follow along, but it wasn’t hard. This story was one she read to Wrinkles all the time. “‘A storm came up and Peter saw a man out on the water. “Who is it?” Peter asked. The man on the water said, “It is me, Peter.” Peter was very amazed. The man on the water was Jesus. “If it is you, Lord, tell me to walk on the water…”’”

  Sierra made a tired sound. She needed a little rest. A seagull landed close by because he wanted to listen to the story. She laughed out loud at the bird.

  “What’s so funny?” Mommy did a little laugh too.

  “That seagull.” Sierra pointed at him. “He wants to listen to the story.”

  “Hmmm.” Her mommy raised her eyebrows at her. Raised eyebrows meant Come on sillypants, get back to reading. “I’d like to listen to the story too.”

  Sierra looked out at the ocean and took a big breath. “I’m doing good, huh, Mommy?”

  “Very good. I can’t wait to hear the rest.”

  A big smile came on Sierra’s face, because Mommy was funny. “Okay, here it is.” She found her place on the page. “‘Jesus said, “Peter, come to me.” So, Peter went out of the boat and came to Jesus on top of the water. But when he saw the wind and big waves he began to sink. He held his hand out to Jesus. “Help,” he cried. Then Jesus helped Peter out of the water. He said, “Peter, you need to have more faith.”’” She closed her pink Bible. “The end.”

  “Nice job, honey. I like it.” Mommy was quiet for a little bit. “What’s your favorite part?”

  “The part about Jesus helping Peter out of the water.”

  “Why that part?”

  “Because sometimes…” Sierra closed her eyes and listened to the waves. She kept them closed, even when she started talking again. “I hate not having a daddy. No one to swing me around or give me horseback rides or curl my hair or anything.” She opened her eyes and looked at Mommy. “I hate it so much.” She leaned her head back so she could see the sky again. “Sometimes I miss my daddy so much I feel like I’m drowning. Just like Peter. But then I reach for Jesus, and He helps me be okay.”

  “I’m sorry, Sierra.” Her mommy’s voice was full of sad.

  “About what?” It wasn’t Mommy’s fault.

  “I’m sorry you don’t have a daddy. I can only tell you I miss him as much as you do.”

  “Probably more, ’cause you knew him longer.”

  “Yes.” Her mommy’s smile was still very sad. “Probably more.” The sound in her voice was like when sometimes she was going to cry. But her eyes were dry when she opened the big Bible and turned some pages. “This is a Scripture your daddy gave me, long before I even knew Jesus.”

  “You mean when me and Daddy used to go to church by just ourselves?”

  “Right.” Mommy made a frown. “Back then.” She looked at the pages and started to read. “It’s from Jeremiah 29:11. It says, ‘“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”’”

  Sierra nodded. “I’ve heard that before. I like it.”

  Her mommy closed the Bible but kept it on her lap. Then she put the blanket back over them. “I wanted to read that because you and I need to have a little talk, Sierra. I want to answer your questions from last night, okay?”

  “Okay.” Sierra’s stomach did a somersault. ’Cause this was the big answer, actually. Mommy’s voice was serious, only that didn’t make sense. Because Katy didn’t know that every person has a time when they die. At least that’s what Mommy said. So that meant Katy’s daddy had September 11, and her own daddy had another day. That’s all. She squiggled her toes in her shoes and waited.

  “Whatever we talk about here, I want you to remember that Bible verse, Sierra. God has a plan for you and He has a plan for me. Sometimes strange things happen and God can make them into something good, all right?”

  “Yes.” Sierra held tight to the arms of her chair. “Can you tell me now?”

  Her mommy nodded. “Let’s pray first. That way we can end our Bible study.”

  “Okay.”

  She took hold of Sierra’s hand and looked out where heaven was. “God, we are so glad You’re always there for us, that when we fall, You pick us up. Even when it feels like we’re drowning.” Her voice sounded sad again. “Right now I ask You to be with Sierra, so she can understand what I’m about to tell her. Give me the right words. Be with both of us, Lord. We need You. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  When she was finished she looked at Sierra. Her eyes were the same as they were last summer when Sierra woke up one morning and Mommy told her some sad news. That their old dog Brownie died in her sleep. Yes, her eyes were the same now. Sierra liked the way her mommy’s hand felt around her smaller one. “I’m ready now.”

  “Okay.” Her mother took in a long breath. “Sierra, Katy is right about Daddy. He did die in the Twin Towers, just like her daddy.”

  Sierra frowned. She stared at her mommy. Why would she say that? The pieces of her heart felt all mixed up.

  Mommy looked a long time at her. “After the towers fell down, Captain Hisel was walking around and he saw a man who looked like your daddy.” She stopped and looked up. Then she whispered, “God…help me. This is harder than I thought.”

  That was a problem. Whenever Mommy prayed in the middle of talking it was a problem. She swallowed. “It’s okay, Mommy. I want to know.”

  “Anyway, they took that man to the hospital, and told me it was your daddy. He was hurt and he had bandages on his face, but he looked…he looked exactly like your daddy, Sierra. Exactly. But
he wasn’t Daddy. He was a man named Eric Michaels. A man who—”

  “That’s not true!” Sierra pulled her hand away from her mommy and crossed her arms tight. “He was so my daddy! He gave me horseback rides and curled my hair and made me blueberry pancakes.” Her tummy hurt very bad now. “He was my daddy, Mommy. Maybe you got your story wrong.”

  “Sierra…” She had a strange sound this time, like she was scared. “I promise I’m telling you the truth. You thought he was Daddy, and I thought he was Daddy. I was shocked when I found out he wasn’t Daddy. But, Sierra, Daddy died in the Twin Towers. That man—Eric Michaels—was from California. He only looked like Daddy.” Tears broke into her voice and made it scratchy. She did a few sobs and covered her face for a long time. When she looked up she was more sad than Sierra had ever seen her. “Can you believe me, honey? Please?”

  She had to think about this, actually. Before she could answer her mommy’s question, she needed a little time for her brain to work. “I want to walk for a minute, okay?”

  “Okay.” Her mommy sat back in her chair. New tears were in her eyes, but she didn’t sound as sad.

  Sierra pushed the blanket off, set her Bible down, and walked down the little hill to the water. It was colder there, but she didn’t care. How could it be true? How could Daddy have been someone else for all that time? She scrunched down the way they did in gym class sometimes, sort of sitting but not touching the sand with her bottom. Her head felt all swishy inside, but Sierra knew one thing.

  Mommy never lied to her. She might wait a long time to tell the truth, but she never lied.

  Never.

  So if Mommy wasn’t lying then it had to be true. The daddy who came home from the hospital wasn’t her daddy. Sierra felt sick, the way she felt when they served tuna casserole for hot lunch. Even if it was true, her head was still all mixed up.

  She stood and walked up the hill, careful not to get sand in her tennis shoes. When she got there she put her hands on her hips, because this was very serious business. “The man who lived with us in the downstairs bedroom? He wasn’t Daddy?”