A Time to Surrender (36 page)

“Jenna, you’ve heard this stuff your whole life from Nana.”

“Obviously I wasn’t listening.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I know what your problem is with Skylar.”

He stared at her.

“It’s so all about you, Danny. It’s about you being hurt by Faith Simmons eons ago. It’s about you being hurt by Skylar. It’s about you looking like a horse’s rear end because your girlfriend is in prison. You really need to quit wallowing in self-pity and get over yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. I admit it.”

“Good.” She abruptly pushed back her chair. “Kevin’s awake.”

“Huh? How do you know he’s awake?”

“The Holy Spirit?” She shrugged and hurried toward the exit.

He followed at a slower pace. The new Jenna had taken the old Jenna’s bossiness to another level. It was as if the princess had grown into queen and understood how to exercise her increased power to its fullest extent. She would be all right on her own.

He wondered how soon he could get on a plane.

Like a fly on the wall, Danny watched Jenna and Kevin’s reunion. He had hesitated but she had insisted he be that near.

He loved Kevin like a brother. He was a guy’s kind of guy. Athletic, funny, loyal. Danny had never understood how the man could fall for his sister until now. Maybe he had sensed the emergent woman beneath the pouting royal pain in the neck, the woman who would eventually stand by him through thick and thin.

Jenna practically melted into Kevin. “Hey, Kev.”

“Hey.” His voice rasped. “You really here?”

“Yeah.” She kissed him full on the mouth for an embarrassingly long time.

“Oh, man.” He chuckled. “My hallucinations never hit me like that.” His eyes strayed over her shoulder. “Danny?”

“Yeah. Hey.”

“Hey. Now I know this is for real ’cause you sure never showed up in my dreams.”

“I’m glad to hear that, buddy.”

Kevin struggled to move his arm, giving Jenna more space to scoot in close. “How you doing, pretty lady?”

“Good, Kev, I’m good. Now that I can see your blue eyes. We’re going to be all right.”

He touched her face. “I screwed up big-time.”

“Yeah, you did. But I love you more than ever.”

The scene blurred. Danny excused himself and went in search of a phone to call the airlines.

Sixty-six

W
ithin forty-eight hours of grasping his brother-in-law’s hand in a hospital in Germany, Danny was sitting on Bells Beach in southern Australia. A chill went through him as he studied awesome waves that bore little resemblance to San Diego’s typical surf.

Was he insane?

All things being equal, he had no doubt he could handle the challenge of the swells before him. He’d practically grown up on a board. He’d won local contests through the years. He’d surfed the monsters in Hawaii.

But things weren’t exactly equal these days.

He’d lost his first love. Not Faith Simmons. Not Skylar. No. It was the God he’d known since as far back as he could remember.

The surf pounded in his chest. Its roar filled his head.

He had left Jenna in a good space. Unlike ever before, his sister was running on all cylinders. She felt absolutely no trepidation about getting Kevin home. Her biggest concern was how to handle his mother, who would visit from Indiana. She was a difficult personality even Nana avoided.

Danny had flown to Melbourne, rented a car, driven to Torquay on the coast, purchased a surfboard, checked into a motel, and called Lexi. The only unmarked item on his agenda was to use the board. If Jenna was right, his wallow in self-pity had just swung into high gear. It was party time for the ego.

With his mind he understood that he had bought into his grandparents’ faith with few questions asked. Christ was real to them; He was real to Danny. They talked to Him in an ongoing conversation; he talked to Him in an ongoing conversation. They went to church; he went to church. The whole world should follow suit.

He’d always said the right words because he knew them, because he saw them work in Papa and Nana and in his own life. But his rational mind went into overdrive, especially—
yeah, yeah, okay.
Especially around the time Faith Simmons exited the scene
.
He needed to take the legalistic path, needed a way that provided an answer for everything and bypassed the heart.

But he’d experienced heart connections with the almighty God. He had . . .

As a tyke . . . Papa put him on a boogie board and told him in his booming voice to ride with the Holy One, the Creator of the wind and the seas, the One who put the curl in the wave just so, the perfect place for Danny to meld into the Father’s embrace.

As a kid . . . his dad signed him up for surf camps.

As a twelve-year-old . . . Nana slipped him money to buy his first board.

As a thirteen-year-old . . . he entered his first surfing contest.

As a seventeen-year-old . . . he floated on a glassy sea, mentally connecting the dots for a Web site design that led him into a career he cared for passionately.

The connections always involved the surf and his grandfather’s words.
Ride with the Holy One.

The echo of Papa’s voice had faded. Just as well. Danny needed to hear another voice and meld again with Him. If there was a way back to his first love, it would happen on the water.

Sixty-seven

Y
ou all must be praying up a storm, right?” Skylar’s green eyes shone beneath her short auburn hair. “I mean, I’m surrounded by angels. The guards are polite and the inmates seem normal.” She laughed. “Normal to me, anyway, and you know how that goes.”

Max chuckled with her and Claire smiled. The girl’s attitude amazed her to no end.

“And you two. I can’t believe you flew up here for a twenty-minute visit through Plexiglas.” She touched the barrier between them as she spoke into the phone, their only audible connection.

Claire winked. “Max owed me a trip to San Francisco.”

He bumped her shoulder and spoke into the receiver they shared. “We would’ve come anyway.”

Skylar’s smile was sad. Claire fumed to herself. Marlie and David Rockwell, residents of the city, had not yet visited their daughter. Their excuse? The narrow window of opportunity to make it to the jail did not work for them. They would be at her hearing, however.

Skylar said, “Is Kevin on his way home?”

They had spoken on the phone since Jenna’s arrival in Germany, so she already knew the specifics of Kevin’s injury.

Max said, “Yes. They’re scheduled to arrive late tonight. We hope to see him Monday or Tuesday.”

Claire added, “Jenna sounds upbeat. She’s officially on leave for the remainder of the school year to be with him. If it works out in the spring, she can sub in schools on the base. She’s already an expert on amputees.” Claire felt a jolt of disbelief whenever she said that word. “Kevin’s mother arrived. She’s staying at the hacienda.”

Skylar chuckled. “Indio told me stories about the woman.”

Max said, “All true. I had to make my mother promise to be on her best behavior.”

“I can’t wait for Indio to try out her best behavior with my mom.” Skylar wrinkled her nose. “What about Danny?”

Claire waited for Max to respond, but he nudged her to do it. “Danny’s in Australia, surfing.” She shrugged. “He talked to Lexi and said he’d keep us posted on his whereabouts but not to expect him home anytime soon. I’m sure Lexi held back some of their conversation. They’ve always done that.”

Max said, “The bottom line is he needs time alone to sort through whatever. Jenna says he’s either having a late adolescent identity crisis or an early midlife crisis.”

“Max.” Claire admonished with her tone. He and Jenna could strip an oak clean of its leaves by the force of their sarcasm.

Skylar said, “He’s hurting. But he’ll be okay. He’s got you two for parents.”

Max chuckled. “You really don’t have to make points with us, Skylar. We’ll come visit again.”

“I’m serious. He has healthy roots in you and Ben and Indio. You’ve learned the balance of holding close and letting go.”

Claire still wondered about that. She supposed she had a better grip on it than Skylar’s parents, who never held their youngest close. Or Kevin’s mother, who held her son too close because his father had left the family.

Max said, “Is the lawyer working out?”

“Hector is great. He’s got
Law and Order
written all over him. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Where do things stand?”

“The plea bargain negotiations are almost done. The FBI inter viewed me. I have information they need to convict Fin and some others.” She blew out a breath. “In exchange they’ll reduce my sentence.”

“To what?” Max asked.

She shrugged. “Depends on the judge.”

“If it’s not enough, we’ll appeal—”

“Max.” Skylar smiled. “Chill. It’s in God’s hands. It’s only by His grace I don’t have to serve the maximum sentence. I am just so happy I get to plead guilty.”

Max shook his head. “You are nuttier than a fruitcake.”

She laughed. “Be serious now for a minute. I have a question. There’s a chance they could send me to a federal center near Los Angeles.”

Claire gasped. “Skylar, you’d be close to us! We can come visit!”

Tears glistened in Skylar’s eyes.

Max said, “What’s the question?”

It took her a moment to respond. “Claire answered it. I was hoping it was all right if we asked for that. Visitors can come on weekends and actually sit in a room together. Hugs are even allowed. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to come or anything, but . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Claire dug in her pocket for a tissue.

Max said, “Skylar, you know us better by now, right? You know we love you.”

She nodded. “It’s unconditional, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” he said. “Totally.”

Sixty-eight

S
eated beside her attorney Hector, aka Perry Mason, listening to the swish of the judge’s robes and muffled coughs of spectators behind her, Skylar could have sworn she was on a movie set. The scent of old polished wood reminded her, however, that the situation was for real.

Her parents had opted to visit her the previous evening and skip today’s high-profile public hearing. No big deal.

She sighed to herself. Yes, it was a big deal. Hector had told her it was a big deal. Claire and Max had told her with their expressive eyes that it was a big deal. Her heart told her that it was a big deal.

God, are You here?

She slowed her breathing and imagined Jesus standing behind them, one forearm on Hector’s shoulder, the other on hers, speaking softly about how He had everything under control.

The big deal lay not so much in her mom and dad’s absence, but in her recognition that they had indeed hurt her beyond measure most of her life.

At the jail last night they had been allowed to sit with her for a short while. Their hugs had been stiff, their teasing silly, their sage advice even sillier.

“Annie,” her dad said, “you got a good one. Hector Laredo has a solid reputation. You’re cooperating with the FBI, right?”

“Completely.”

“That’s the sensible thing to do. You understand why we can’t be here tomorrow? I do a lot of work with the city.”

She had nodded. “Maybe I can change my last name before things get started. Again. Officially this time.”

“It’s already in the papers.” That was her mother’s astute observation.

Talk about a disconnect. Their conversation never made it beyond that level of skimming the surface. But then why should it after all these years?

Skylar began to see them as two hurting souls. They had aged. The years of alcohol abuse and pot smoking had caught up to them. A sadness settled into her heart. Indio would probably clap with glee and tell her she might as well start praying for her parents now. It was going to happen eventually.

She didn’t. Not yet. Maybe after the hearing.

In the courtroom now she strained her ears to hear what Jesus was saying. Maybe that He loved her?

She glanced at the profile of the solid man beside her . . . at the wise-looking, silver-haired woman judge . . . at the federal prosecutor’s smooth face . . . at the FBI agent’s teddy-bear appearance . . .

She most definitely was not on a movie set. Too much kindness pervaded the place. Too much tilted in her favor.

Mercy.
Yes, that’s what it was. Mercy, sweet and thick as molasses, protecting her soul. No matter what they all decided was her future, nothing could take that away.

Sixty-nine

T
he day they buried Uncle BJ’s remains in the military cemetery in Pt. Loma, Jenna attended the memorial service by herself. As much progress as her strong husband had made in five weeks, the long day and rough terrain would have been too much for Kevin.

Except for Skylar, he had caught up with the family. Erik took Rosie to meet him; Lexi took Nathan; Papa and Indio took Tuyen. He’d always loved the Beaumonts and thought the new additions perfect. He seemed more than ever able to receive the love they poured onto him. His first visit from the hospital would be the hacienda. Her mother already promised to cook his favorite meal.

A clear, blue December sky and a tangible sense of release mitigated the sadness of the occasion. The Navy did their whole bit with the missing man flyover for a fallen pilot.

Tuyen stood proudly and received the flag that had draped the coffin. Papa had one arm around his Vietnamese granddaughter and one around Nana. Max and Claire cried through it all. Beth Russell was there with her husband, who seemed like a really nice guy. Danny was still in Australia. Lexi and Erik were there with Nathan and Rosie, both all but members of the Beaumont family. Skylar, of course, couldn’t come, but Lexi had been to see her, and she’d sent her prayers.

Everyone was talking about prayers.

After the ceremony people lingered. It was a beautiful setting overlooking San Diego Bay and the downtown area. Jenna had driven herself in order to return to Kevin as soon as possible, but she needed a private moment with Beth Russell, the enigma who had tried to tell her how to make it.