After she’d eaten Aunt Aggie’s cooking, the pall that had hung over Celia seemed to be lifting. Aunt Aggie sat across the table from her and Stan, and Celia just stared at her. “Aunt Aggie, there’s something I have to say to you,” she said.
Aunt Aggie touched her hand. “Say anything you want to.”
She breathed in a deep sigh. “Aunt Aggie, when I thought you were dead, I couldn’t even take comfort in knowing I’d see you again when I die, because we’re not going to the same place, Aunt Aggie.”
Aunt Aggie’s face changed.
“Aunt Aggie, I’m not gonna leave you alone until you love Jesus like I love him. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. You’re gonna have to get used to me harping on you all the time, because I don’t ever want to have to go to your funeral again and sit there despairing that you never knew him. And beating myself up with guilt because I didn’t work hard enough. God’s given me another chance, and if it kills me, I’m gonna use it.”
Aunt Aggie didn’t know what to say to that. “You do what you gotta do, darlin’,” she said. “Don’t mean I’m gon’ listen.”
“You’re a stubborn woman, Aunt Aggie.” She got up and went around the table, and hugged the old woman again. “But I love you. And I don’t want to lose you again.”
Stan couldn’t help smiling at the joy he saw on his wife’s face as she held her dear Aunt Aggie.
Aunt Aggie slept until almost noon the next day, so exhausted was she from the ordeal of the night before. When the doorbell downstairs rang, she pulled herself out of bed, slipped on her robe, and looked out the window to see who it could be. Had anyone found out that she was alive yet? Was it time for the party to begin?
And then she saw the Bradford’s BMW parked out front. She opened her door quietly and walked out to the staircase, listening. If they had any cross words to say to Celia, they would have her to answer to.
Instead, she saw something that surprised her.
Celia stood at the door, staring at her parents. “Mom? Dad?” she asked hesitantly. “Come in.”
Aunt Aggie thought that Celia was a better person than she was. She would have thrown them out the minute she laid eyes on them.
They came into the house and Celia closed the door. Stan was behind her in a moment, watching with anticipation.
Joanna’s face twisted with emotion, and tears came to her tired, puffy eyes. “Celia, we need to ask your forgiveness. We’re so sorry for the way we’ve treated you all these years. We want to explain, but there isn’t a good explanation. Not one that can make up for six years when we should have been there for you. Can you ever forgive us? He told us such lies…and we believed him. We believed all of it…”
Tears rolled down Celia’s face.
“We don’t have a right to your forgiveness,” her father went on. “But we need to ask. We had to let you know that we know David was guilty. We should have seen it.”
Celia wasn’t able to speak. She just put her arms around both of her parents, and they clung to her and wept.
From her place at the top of the stairs, Aunt Aggie wiped her own eyes.
“I’m gonna have a baby,” she heard Celia tell her parents.
“We know,” her mother said. “Aunt Aggie told us last night.” She let her go and patted her daughter’s stomach. “We’re finally gonna have a grandbaby. To think we almost missed it.”
“You didn’t miss it,” Celia said. “You’re just in time.”
Aggie watched, overcome, from the top of the staircase. Slowly, she sank down onto the top step and leaned against the post. What she had just witnessed was so different from what she would have done, and yet it was so sweet.
Was this something God had enabled Celia to do? Was this the empowerment Celia had spoken of? Was that what kept prodding Aunt Aggie now, ever since the funeral?
The battle is not yours, but God’s. Wasn’t that what Celia said God had told her that night in jail? And hadn’t it turned out to be true? If there was a God, he’d worked it all out. He’d won the battle, so Celia had won. But remembering their night in jail, Aggie realized that Celia had won before they’d determined David to be the killer. She had peace and joy, even in the worst of circumstances. How could that be?
She didn’t know, but she did know that it was too hard to admit she was wrong after so many years. She could fake it, she supposed, for Celia’s sake. She could go downstairs and tell Celia that she had accepted Jesus, that she had changed, that she would go to church with her now, just so Celia wouldn’t cry and worry.
But that wasn’t Aunt Aggie’s style. She may lie about death, but she wasn’t going to lie about anything like that. Still, she wondered if, indeed, there was a God, working on her soul right at that very moment, pulling her to him. She didn’t know if she had it in her to confess, to repent of all the things she’d never thought of as sins. She’d always fancied herself a good person. One who did the right things.
But if there was a God, then in his eyes, she must be an awful disappointment.
She got up and went back into her room, wiping away the tears. She hardly ever cried. Hadn’t done it in years before this whole mess had started, but in the last few days it seemed that the fountain wouldn’t stop flowing. Her tears were never going to end.
She sat down at the secretary in her bedroom, stared down at the wood grain. Was the Lord speaking to her? Was he the one putting this heaviness in her heart, this emptiness in her soul, giving her this hunger that she didn’t know how to fill? Was it him, or just the circumstances, the emotion, of the last few days?
She didn’t know. All she did know was that when she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t like what she saw so much anymore. She wondered what God saw.
And then she realized that, for the first time in her life, she was thinking of God as if he were real. She didn’t know how to take that.
She began to cry even harder, and put her wrinkled hands over her face, wishing that none of this had ever happened, that she’d never been convicted, that she’d never had to break her niece’s heart. She’d never planned to have to look God in the face, but she supposed if Celia was right, she would have to someday, when every knee would bow and every tongue confess. Wasn’t that what Celia always quoted? “Even you, Aunt Aggie,” she had told her once. Aunt Aggie hadn’t believed it then. Now, she thought maybe it was true. One day, her knee would bow. One day, her tongue would confess. It was her choice whether she did it too late.
Slowly, she got off her chair and got down on her knees. It wasn’t a comfortable place to be. She figured her bony knees would be bruised when she got back up, and she might limp for a while. But she stayed there, as tears rolled down her face, and she folded her hands together like a child in prayer and looked up at the ceiling.
“I don’t know who you are or what you want with me,” she said. “But I’m startin’ to think that maybe you’re really there. And if what Celia says is true about you, well, then I reckon I oughta listen.” Her voice broke and she sobbed against her hands. “I guess what you see down here’s a mighty wretched person. I can’t do nothin’ about the past, but I can tell you how sorry I am. And I can start from today. That’s what Celia says you do anyhow. Just start folks right where they are.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head as sobs tore from her throat. “Oh, Jesus, don’t ever make my Celia have to grieve like that again. Help me know you before my time really comes.”
It was at that moment that the gentlest peace she’d ever known in her life washed over her, and Aunt Aggie looked at the ceiling, frowning, wondering why in the world he would answer her prayer—the first one she’d ever prayed. But he had. And just as clear as she knew her heart was still beating, she knew that Jesus had accepted her prayer.
Something was different now. Something had changed.
She thought of running down to tell Celia what she had done. But some part of her wanted to be alone with him just for a little longer, to bask in that c
omfort and that peace, and especially that love. She had loved many people in her life and had received love from many others. But never had she experienced a love quite as grand as this. She wasn’t ready to break the moment. She didn’t know how this Christianity thing worked. She supposed she’d have to start going to church now to find out. But for now, she just wanted to bask in the love that God was showering over her. For now, she just wanted to spend a little more time with him.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Dan Nichols stood at the nursery window, looking in at the little baby with the sign that said “Branning” on its crib. His heart ached at the thought that his best friend had fathered that child. This tiny, fragile human being would be completely dependent on Mark and Allie to take care of him. Part of him longed for that kind of responsibility, that kind of a challenge. But another part knew it was never to be. Not Dan Nichols. He’d had poor parenting. He would probably make a horrible father.
That is, if he ever got to the point of marriage in the first place. This relationship with Jill had about done him in. He had decided long ago, when he became an adult and quit trying to please his parents, that he never wanted to be in a position of vulnerability again. He never wanted to allow anyone else he loved to hurt him. Therefore, he had tried not to love, and it had worked for most of his life. But over these last few days, he’d realized that Jill had made him vulnerable again. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Dan?”
He turned around and saw Jill standing behind him, as if his own mind had conjured her up. Celia and Stan were with her. Stan was in a wheelchair, and Celia pushed it toward him. Instead of greeting Jill, he went right to Celia, gave her a hug. “Celia, you look great. It’s so good to see you out.” He slapped hands with Stan. “Man, you’re looking good.”
“I could have walked,” Stan said, “but my wife insisted on the wheelchair. She thinks I’ve been overdoing it. I’m trying to humor her.”
“Yeah,” Celia said. “I appreciate it. Is this their baby?” She stepped up to the glass and looked in.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“We’re gonna have one of our own, you know,” she said, her eyes dancing.
“That’s what I heard,” he said. “You know, maybe if you go in there and talk to Allie, she’ll call them to bring the baby in, and you can hold him.”
“Do you think so?”
“Sure. If they let me, they’ll let anybody.”
“You held the baby?” Jill asked.
At last, he let himself look at her. “Yeah, I did.”
Electricity sparked between them, and he made himself turn away.
Stan didn’t seem to notice. “I hear you played a part in our little sting last night.”
“Yeah, without even realizing it. By the way,” he said, glancing at Jill, “you owe me fifty bucks.”
She smiled tentatively. “I sure do. I’ll write you a check before we leave.”
“No problem.”
Celia and Stan headed for Allie’s room, but Jill hung back, looking up at him with searching eyes. But he didn’t want her to see into him.
“You’re mad at me,” she said. “Is it about Lee Barnett?”
He frowned and shook his head. “No. Why would I be mad about Lee Barnett?”
“Because I was so short with you last night? And the time before that, when I saw you? And when I avoided you at Aunt Aggie’s funeral? I’m sorry, Dan, but I was having so much trouble with that lie about Aunt Aggie…I couldn’t look you in the eye. And the stress of the last few days…”
He raised a hand to stem her excuses. “No problem. I understand.”
“Look, I was hoping that maybe we could go out to dinner later. I could catch you up on everything. I tried to call you, but you weren’t home.”
He wondered if she thought he was a charity case or something. Poor guy. Throw him a crumb here and there, and maybe he won’t look so forlorn. He tried to harden his expression. “No, I’ve got plans for tonight.”
She looked disappointed. “Tomorrow?”
“No, I’ve taken a few days off. I’m going deer hunting.”
“Deer hunting? Oh…well, then, when you get back.”
He hesitated and looked at the baby again. “We’ll see.” His refusal to commit seemed to startle her, and she touched his arm. He wished that his pulse didn’t speed up at such a simple gesture. It made him furious at himself.
“Dan, you are mad at me.”
“No, I’m not, Jill,” he said. “I’m just busy.”
“Like I’ve been busy,” she said. “Look, I know I’ve been distant and unavailable, but I’ve been under so much pressure. I didn’t know which end was up. If I’ve been short with you or didn’t seem to want to spend time with you, it was because my friend was hurting so badly and I wanted to help her.”
“You did a good job,” he said honestly. “You really did. I’m glad she had you in her corner.”
“But?”
He couldn’t look her in the eye. “But I’m not the kind of guy who really hooks up with one woman very long, Jill. You know that about me. ”
She kept staring at him, and he wondered what was going through her mind. Was she buying it?
She looked down at her feet, swallowed. “Well…I’m not really one to beg,” she said, her voice quivering slightly. “I mean, if you’re not interested, you’re not interested. I just thought we had something going.”
She cut her words off, and he could see her mentally kicking herself, as if she didn’t expect herself to be saying such things. “Look, we’re friends,” she said quickly. “We don’t have to explain these things to each other. If we don’t want to date, we don’t want to date. It’s not going to ruin our friendship. Right?”
“Right,” he said, wishing she would beg just a little. They stood side by side, staring at the baby, because it wouldn’t do to look at each other. It was as if the sight of that tiny little life kicking in that crib had something to teach them, something about life that neither of them could understand. But Dan had a sinking feeling that it was not a lesson he was ever going to learn. Those lessons were for people like Celia and Stan, Allie and Mark…people who weren’t afraid to love and lose. People who had the stamina to risk rejection and come out on top.
The nurse came to get the baby, and holding its little wrist, made it wave bye-bye to them as she took him to his mother. He stole a look at Jill as the baby was taken away. Her eyes were misty, soft, and he wondered if the sight of that child did the same things to her heart that it did to his.
She began to dig into her purse, pulled out her checkbook, and wrote out a check. She tore it out and handed it to him. “There you go. I really appreciate your help last night. I thought Lee Barnett was the killer. When they arrested him for a barroom brawl, I thought our whole sting was over. We had to get him back out there so he would be free to make a move.”
“Whatever happened to him?”
“Oh, the judge figured he’d been through enough, what with all the ways David had manipulated him. He dropped all the charges against him and told him to go back to Jackson.”
Dan nodded but couldn’t seem to find his voice.
She looked up at him. “Well, guess I’ll go see Allie. I’ll see ya.”
“Yeah,” he said. “See ya.”
Dan watched until she disappeared around the corner. His heart felt like a broken balloon on the bottom of his chest cavity, yet part of him felt some relief at breaking those ties. Was it that easy? he asked himself. No, his heart told him it wasn’t. But he would get over it in time. It was his choice, after all.
In Allie’s room a few minutes later, Celia and Stan sat on the vinyl couch and held the baby that squirmed in their arms, his alert eyes focused on Celia. Stan enjoyed the baby, but he was more captivated by the look of pure joy and excitement on Celia’s face. “Oh, Allie, isn’t he a miracle? Isn’t he just the most wonderful thing?”
Allie’s smile was radiant. ?
??I’m so excited about your news, Celia.”
“Yeah, and to think I don’t have to go through my pregnancy in prison.”
Mark shook his head. “Man, that was the worst. Just the worst. And I’m so glad Aunt Aggie’s not dead, ’cause I really blew her funeral.”
“She called me this morning,” Allie said, “and gave me heck for upstaging her.”
They all chuckled. “You know,” Celia said, “I think Aunt Aggie’s coming around. I think the Holy Spirit convicted her through all this. I don’t know what will come of it, but I know God’s working on her.”
“He’s working on all of us,” Allie said. “Wouldn’t you say that’s true?”
Celia smiled and nodded her head as the little baby squirmed in her arms. She met Stan’s eyes and nodded. “Oh, yeah. We’re all just works in progress, aren’t we? Someday we’ll all be people God’s proud of.”
“Someday,” Stan said.
But he couldn’t help thinking that God was already proud of his wife.
Afterword
Why do people always let you down?”
One of my children asked this question after her heart had been broken, and I wanted to leap to the defense of the human race. “They don’t always let you down,” I wanted to say. “Some people are reliable and dependable. Some people are good and won’t hurt you.”
But I stopped myself, because I realized that this could be one of the greatest life lessons she would ever learn. The truth is, every human on the face of the earth has the ability to let someone down. Everyone is capable of breaking a heart. It’s our nature. There is no one who can live up to another’s expectations a hundred percent of the time.
No one but Christ.
So I told my child that we are not to put our hopes in people, but in Christ, who would never, ever let us down.
To some people, that’s good news.
To others, it’s like saying we can count on the tooth fairy. To them, Christ seems so far removed from reality, that they think reaching for him would be like reaching for thin air.