Kari wanted to ask why Brooke hadn’t felt the same way about Ashley’s baby, but that would only make the tension worse. Instead she waited a few beats. “Ashley’s not sure what to say to you, how to approach you now that she knows you’re right . . . about her baby.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Brooke’s voice told just how much the situation was hurting her. “I’ve always been here for her. She thinks I’m the enemy, but it’s not me.” She spread her hands across her chest. “I’m a doctor, and I know how impossible it is to have a faulty ultrasound reading with a diagnosis of anencephaly. And that makes me the bad guy somehow.”
“It’s not that.” Kari chose her words carefully. “I think she’s still remembering your initial suggestion. About the abortion.”
“Look—” Brooke faced Kari—“that doesn’t make me the bad guy either. An abortion is the preferred way of handling anencephaly because it spares the family the incredible grief of having a birth overshadowed by an almost simultaneous death.” Her tone was heavy with sadness. “Do you have any idea how hard that’s going to be on them? It could change them forever.”
Kari thought about that. She’d done online research on neural tube defects over the past few days. The baby could be born with a disfigured face, her forehead and eyes compromised because of the missing sections of skull. All told, Brooke was right about the trauma. The experience would be devastating. Ashley would welcome her daughter and bid her a gut-wrenching good-bye at the same time.
“But, Brooke—” Kari turned compassionate eyes to her sister—“all of life changes us. We go through the birth of a child, and we’re changed forever. The death of a mother—” she smiled even as tears welled in her eyes—“and we’re never the same again. We can’t run from the things in life that change us. Maybe we have to embrace them.”
Brooke’s expression closed off some. She nodded and gave Kari a guarded smile. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” She stood. “I told the girls I’d build a sand castle with them.” And with that she took a few steps, smiled again, and jogged down the beach.
Kari wasn’t sure if the conversation had helped, but it was the best she could do. Now, though, sitting at the picnic table with Luke, her father, Katy, and Dayne, nothing seemed to be going right. She could sense the tension between Dayne and his wife, but she didn’t feel like it was her place to ask them about it. The tabloids told the story, really. There were problems—mostly concocted, clearly, but problems all the same. She was praying for them. She wasn’t sure what else to do.
Her father was deep in conversation with Dayne, and at the far end of the table, Katy seemed lost in her own world.
“Do you see it?” Luke leaned close to Kari. Reagan was in a blow-up raft with Tommy and Malin. Every now and then Tommy would wave at them and shout about finding big water. Luke would wave and smile, but he seemed as distracted as the rest of them.
“What?” Kari couldn’t get comfortable. She put her hands behind her on the table and tried to lean back.
“Ashley. She’s hurting so bad, it kills me.” Luke’s voice was low enough that the others couldn’t hear him. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Hmmm.” Kari loved being around Luke, loved that he and his family had moved closer. His own marriage still had its rocky times, but at least he was willing to talk about his struggles. Kari stared across the picnic area. Ashley was sitting at the same type of table by herself. Landon and the boys were twenty yards away, working on a sand castle not far from the one Brooke was building with her girls.
“I mean, look at her.” Luke sounded beyond frustrated. “I hate seeing her like this.” He leaned forward and dug his elbows into his knees. “I tried talking to her earlier, but she gave me one-word answers. It’s like no one can get through to her.”
“What would Mom do?”
Luke cocked his head and thought for a minute. “She’d sit next to her and hold her hand. Or give her a hug.”
“Right.” Kari smiled at the memory. “Mom knew that sometimes words weren’t needed.”
He stood up and took a deep breath. “Then that’s what I’m going to do.”
As Luke left their table and headed toward Ashley, Kari felt the most brilliant ray of hope shining across her heart. Yes, these were troubled times. But they would find their way through them, and they would do so with faith and love, and sometimes—when words weren’t needed—they would do so with a hug.
Because that’s what Baxters did.
With every step Luke remembered different times when Ashley had helped him. When he was little and fell off his two-wheel bike, and Ashley had run inside to get a washcloth and a few minutes later gently rubbed the rocks off his scraped knee. And when he was older, before she left for Paris, when she took a walk with him and told him to stay in school, to never give up on his dreams.
But the most vivid memory was the time when she’d sat him down on a bench on the campus of Indiana University. It was there, when Luke had been making some of the worst decisions of his life, that Ashley told him the truth about Reagan. She’d had a baby, and the baby was his. Luke’s child.
At that time, Luke had been living with a wacky woman he’d met in one of his communications classes. He’d thrown his beliefs to the wind and was openly living a life contrary to the one his parents had raised him to believe in. Then and there, with other students coming and going all around them, Ashley had called him on every wrong thing he was doing.
Because she loved him.
The memories flashed through his mind in a few seconds, and as he reached her, he could only hope that now—when she needed his support—he would know how to give it. Mom wouldn’t have needed a conversation or a solution to the problems Ashley faced. She would’ve simply been there. Breathing the same air. And that would be enough.
Luke reached Ashley, and this time he didn’t ask how she was or if she wanted to talk. He just took the seat beside her and sat close enough that their shoulders were touching. Together they stared straight ahead at the lake and at the kids building their sand castles.
Ten minutes passed before Ashley turned to him. “Thanks.”
“For what?” He grinned, trying to find that place with his sister where the two of them always connected, where the friendship they’d started back as little kids still grew strong.
“For being you.” She faced the water again. “For just being.”
Luke’s heart felt lighter than it had all day. This was what he’d been looking for, a chance to reach out to Ashley and let her know she was loved. No matter how dark the days ahead looked. If he were in her place, he wouldn’t want his family lined up with sad faces and apologies. He’d just want to know that somewhere down the road, when the sadness lifted and it was okay to laugh again, his family would still be there for him.
The way all of them would be there for Ashley. Even Brooke.
It took another few minutes, but Ashley began talking about past Independence Days. Before long they were both smiling, remembering last year, when Landon lost a bet and had to jump in the lake with his clothes on, and other times, a decade ago, when Ashley and Luke had built a homemade canoe in their garage and used the Fourth of July to test it.
“I think we lasted maybe ten seconds before it sank.” Luke laughed. “It was the world’s worst sailing effort.”
“For sure.” She wasn’t quite laughing, but her tone was lighter than it had been earlier. “You were always up for my crazy ideas.”
“What was I supposed to do? You were the great Ashley Baxter, and I was just your kid brother. I would’ve built a rocket and tried to launch it to the moon if you’d asked me to.”
They were quiet again for a few minutes.
“Hey, Ash . . . all those years of you asking me for things . . . ?”
“Yes?” There was a tenderness in her expression, a vulnerability.
“Can I ask something of you?”
She put her hand on his knee and smiled. “Sure, little brot
her. Want me to build a sand castle with you? shape it like a canoe or a rocket poised for the moon?”
“No.” He looked deep into her eyes, beyond her fear to the place where her sadness knew no bounds. “Can we all be there? When your baby’s born?”
She hesitated, and then her eyes flooded with tears. “Oh, Luke . . .” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on to him for a long time. Finally she gave him the answer he was waiting for. “Yes . . . yes, you can all be there.”
“Love you, Ashley.” He ran his hand along her back, willing her to feel his strength. “You can do this.”
“I know.” She sniffed.
For a long time they stayed that way. A brother and sister who through the years had ridden out life’s storms together. This time there was nothing either of them could do to change the outcome, but Luke would do what he could. He would be there.
And they would say their good-byes to little Sarah together.
Cody’s final ten days flew by the way Bailey had known they would. After his talk that day on their walk around the lake, she didn’t let herself daydream about the future. Instead she and Cody simply spent the days like a couple of kids—boating, tossing a football, and playing Ping-Pong late into the night.
But now it was Sunday morning, and Cody was downstairs getting ready to leave. Bailey washed her face and slipped into a T-shirt and shorts. She was terrified about what the future held for Cody, but she no longer wondered whether he’d come back for her. He didn’t think of her that way, and that was okay. The truth had sunk in, and Bailey didn’t care.
As long as Cody came back alive.
Bailey hurried downstairs, and all through her mom’s pancake breakfast she couldn’t find the appetite to take more than a couple bites. She wanted a few minutes alone with Cody, and she wasn’t sure she was going to get them. They needed more time, another week or another day. She still had more to tell him.
The idea was still consuming her when Cody finished eating, rinsed his plate, and stuck it in the dishwasher. Then he turned to Bailey and nodded toward the back door. “Take a walk with me?”
Bailey was afraid she’d start crying right then, but she held back. “Sure.”
The boys—who were at the age when everything Bailey did usually caused a burst of laughter—stayed unusually quiet. They understand, she thought. This was their last day with Cody. There was nothing funny about that.
Cody opened the door, and she followed him outside. He motioned to the path that led along the side of the house and through the backyards of two of their neighbors and on into a wooded area.
He didn’t say anything until they were almost to the trees. “You’re thinking the worst again.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and gave her a crooked grin. “Aren’t you?”
She wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t find the strength. Her knees shook as she walked. “I’m trying not to.”
“I’ll be safe, Bailey. I told you.” His tone was lighthearted, easygoing, the way it was so often. “God’s got my back, and besides, I’ll have your letters to look forward to.”
“Yeah.” She willed her tears to stay put. Cody wouldn’t want her to cry. Not now.
“What?” Cody took a few steps in front of her and turned, walking backward so he could face her. “The ever-faithful Bailey Flanigan has doubts?” He made a funny face.
“Not really.” She laughed, even though she didn’t want to. “I know God’ll be with you, and of course I’ll write. I promised.” She felt her smile fade. “It’s just that . . .”
“I know.” He turned again and fell in beside her. “You’re not sure how you’ll go on without my charming presence around to bug you all the time.”
Bailey liked the way he was keeping things light. She didn’t want a dramatic talk right now. They’d had enough of those in the nights leading up to this moment, conversations about the war and whether it was necessary and talks about his anger toward his mother for never being there for him. But here, so close to good-bye, she preferred this Cody—the one who made her laugh. She kicked at his foot. “Yeah, Cody. . . . I won’t know what to do with myself.”
“You’ll find something. Tim Reed’s around this summer, right?” He lifted his chin. “You deserve a guy like him.”
Bailey laughed but only because she didn’t know what to say. Tim Reed was too busy for her, even if he was the greatest guy ever. And as for Cody, he’d made his feelings clear. He thought of her as a sister. But sometimes—in moments like this—she wondered if he was only lying to himself and to her. Because everything inside her told her that he had feelings for her. But maybe that was just because he was leaving today.
They walked for ten minutes, talking about her mother’s pancakes and how he probably wouldn’t have a meal like that again until he came back to visit on leave. After a while, he stopped and faced her. She had the same feeling she’d had that day on the path near the lake. That maybe, in some crazy moment of reckless abandon, he might actually kiss her.
“I’ll miss you, Bailey.” It was his first attempt at being serious this morning.
She didn’t want a good-bye scene, but they had no choice. This was why she’d wanted to have some alone time with him, after all. So she could tell him good-bye her own way, without everyone watching. She put her arms around him.
Cody had been very careful not to be physical with her. Though she’d seen him hand out hugs to his friends without a second thought, this was only the third time he’d hugged her.
And he did hug her. He put his arms around her shoulders and held her for a long time. As he released her, he kissed her on the cheek. “Stay the same, okay?”
Bailey allowed herself to get lost in his eyes. This wasn’t love, but it was the closest thing to it she’d ever felt. “You know I will.” The feel of his kiss on her cheek was making its way down her arms and legs. She wanted him to kiss her again, but she knew he wouldn’t. He had already told her how he felt, and he would stick to that. She was sure.
“And don’t get a boyfriend.” He released her shoulders and took hold of her hand. “You’ll be too busy with school and Bible studies for any of that.”
“Oh, really?” Bailey grinned at him.
“Yeah.” Cody started walking again, still holding her hand. “My good girl doesn’t have time for boys.”
He was teasing her, and after a few steps he released her hand. They were quiet until just before they left the woods. “I want you to know something.” He looked at her, his pace slower than before.
“What?” She could tell from his tone that whatever was coming next, he wasn’t joking anymore.
“If anyone could make me change my mind about enlisting, it’d be you. Being with you lately has been . . .” He looked up through the trees to the sliver of sunlight beyond. “It’s been different from anything else in my life, different from any friendship ever.”
There it was again. Friendship. Bailey refused to let herself be discouraged by the word. She smiled at him. “I’m honored.”
“I mean it. You and your family are what I’ll miss the most.” He looked at his watch. “Come on, Bailey. Your ankle’s fine, right?”
“Right.” She loved this, that he was closing their time together with the silliness and laughter that had marked most of the last few weeks.
“Okay, then race me back to the house.”
She didn’t give him time to signal a start. Instead she set out as fast as she could, as if by running like the wind she could escape the painful good-bye. He wasn’t giving it his best effort, because he lagged a few feet behind and never once sounded out of breath.
At the end, when she touched the back door first, Cody only shrugged. “See? I always knew you were better than me.” He was joking with her; he had to be. But his eyes looked deeper than they had all morning.
That look was all Bailey could think about as they went inside and the series of good-byes began. Cody started with the boys. They gathered around him, giving hi
m hugs and high fives.
“Get the bad guys, Cody!” Ricky saluted him, and then he ran and grabbed Cody’s duffel bag.
Shawn and BJ and Justin kept their words quiet. Even Connor—usually the life of any Flanigan moment—only hugged Cody and then uttered a soft-spoken good-bye.
Her parents were next.
Bailey had thought she could get through this moment, but that idea went out the window when her mother came into the room with Cody’s pillow beneath her arm and tears in her eyes. “You almost forgot this.”
Dad had been watching from a few feet away, but now he came up beside Mom and pulled Cody into a long hug.
Bailey felt the first tears then.
“You’ll always be a son to me,” she heard her dad whisper. “Watch yourself. Stay safe.”
As he pulled back, there was the sound of a car horn from the circle out front. Cody’s ride was here.
Bailey crossed her arms and willed herself to be strong. But her tears came regardless. She rocked onto her toes and tried to believe that in just a few minutes they wouldn’t see Cody again for a year or more. Maybe not ever.
God, keep him safe. Hold him in Your arms. She sniffed, and Ricky noticed her tears. He looped his arm around her waist.
Her mother hugged Cody next. The tears had already choked out her voice, so she gripped his shoulders as she pulled away. “Come back, okay?” The whisper was all she could manage.
Cody didn’t face Bailey all this time, and she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. This had to be hard on him too, but he was staying strong so far.
Before they walked him to the door, her dad held his hands out. “Come on, everyone. Circle up. Let’s pray for Cody.”
In that moment, Bailey saw the truth. Cody wasn’t as strong as he pretended to be. His face was scrunched up in knots, his eyes squeezed shut against the sadness.
Her dad was the only one who could talk, so he led the prayer. “Dear Lord, we release Cody into Your care. You brought him here for a reason, and You take him from us now for an even greater one. Please let him know that, like all soldiers who serve the United States, his sacrifice of time and energy and service will not be in vain. Let him know that Americans everywhere live in debt to him and those like him.” His voice was heavy with sadness. “We ask that You keep Your angels around him and keep him safe. And we pray that he would feel Your love and ours every step of the journey ahead of him. Thank You for Cody, Lord. We won’t forget the time he’s had with us, and we pray for many visits in the future. In Jesus’ name, amen.”