Ever After (8 page)

Justin didn’t hesitate. He took off his shirt and pressed it over the wound. Then he raised the girl’s leg and propped her foot up on his shoulder. He was talking to her, still applying pressure on the wounded leg as the paramedics arrived.

Once they’d wrapped her leg with sterile bandages, Justin took his bloodied shirt and returned to his place in the bleachers. Everyone in the stands applauded, and as Shane looked, he saw Lauren. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes full of awe for the young man.

“That looked serious …”

“It was. The slice was pretty deep, nicked an artery for sure.”

“I wondered.” Lauren touched his shoulder. “You might’ve saved her life.”

He shrugged and wadded his shirt in a ball near his feet. “I guess the team trainer was in the locker room helping another player, someone injured earlier.” An easy grin played on his lips. “I knew what to do. Anyone would’ve done the same thing.”

Shane gave Gary a look, one that said he too was impressed by Gary’s son. When the game was over, when PLU had won, 4 – 2, one of the coaches from the opposing team came over and thanked Justin. “Thanks for what you did. She was losing a lot of blood.” He looked sickened by the thought. “I don’t think the rest of us realized how serious it was, that an artery was involved.”

Again Justin brushed off the comments. He shook hands with the coach, but his eyes were already searching the field. Shane followed the boy’s gaze and spotted Emily jogging across the field toward them. Justin met her partway, and the two hugged for a long time.

Shane wasn’t sure where to focus his attention. On the way Justin Baker looked at his daughter, on the beauty of what the two of them obviously shared, or at Lauren. Gary and Carol were making their way down the bleachers, heading for Emily and Justin, but Lauren still sat there, watching from her place on the top row of the stands.

“He’s so … compassionate.” She didn’t blink, didn’t look away from the place where the two young people were talking and laughing. “Did you see that, Shane?” She finally shifted her gaze to him. “Did you see how he responded?”

Whatever was going on in Lauren’s head, he wanted to understand it. “Of course he reacted that way.” Shane looked from her to Justin, and back again. “He’s a trained medic, Lauren.”

“But I …” She bit her lip, and emotion welled in her eyes. “You’re kind that way, Shane. But that’s because I know you. Soldiers — the soldiers I’ve written about — are more concerned with taking a life than saving it.”

Shane couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing. Was that really what she thought? That Shane and his peers were nothing more than well-trained killing machines? “Lauren, that’s a terrible thing to say.”

Almost as soon as he uttered her name, her expression changed. She put her fingers to her mouth and shook her head. “Listen to me. How could I have thought such a thing? It’s like … it’s like I can hear myself for the first time.” She looked at Justin again. “Like that young man is the first soldier I’ve actually seen for myself. Without looking at him through the lens of my training, my experiences.”

Shane didn’t know what to say. He was still stunned that somewhere in her heart, Lauren had harbored such a warped view of soldiers. But saying so would be overkill, especially when she looked so shocked, almost angry at herself.

Whatever was happening inside her, Shane was sure God had used the actions of a very special young man to open Lauren’s eyes a bit. He took his fiancée’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go congratulate our daughter.”

“Yes.” They reached the bottom of the bleachers when Lauren turned and looked at him. She hadn’t ever looked more serious. “I’m sorry, Shane. For ever thinking that.”

“It’s okay.” He gave her a tender kiss. “Come on. Emily needs us.”

They met up with the others in time to see Emily pluck at Justin’s white T-shirt. “Good thing you had this on.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Otherwise the team would’ve been too distracted to play the rest of the game.”

Shane smiled, savoring the feel of Lauren’s hand in his. They made small talk, congratulating Emily on her game and her goal, and listening while Emily updated them on the condition of the injured player. “The other coaches heard word near the end of the game. She lost a lot of blood, but she’s been stitched up. She’ll be fine in a few weeks.” Emily held out her hands, her brow raised. “Whoever heard of slicing open an artery in a soccer game? I’m so glad she’s okay.”

Carol Baker put her arm around her son. “Thanks to Justin’s quick thinking.”

“Yeah — ” Emily grinned at him — “my hero.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Justin laughed and looked around the group. “Emily’s next game isn’t for a few hours. Let’s get lunch.”

Shane reveled in the feel of the group, the way his friend and he had so easily reconnected, how Carol and Lauren had found common interests. And now that he saw them together, he couldn’t help but be thrilled for Emily. Justin was the sort of young man he could only hope to see his daughter marry one day. The fact that the soldier was his friend’s son only made things better.

But none of that compared to what he’d seen in Lauren’s eyes as she sat on the top rung of the bleachers. Lauren presented such a strong front, an impenetrable fortress that refused any viewpoint but her own. She was absolutely convinced she knew the truth about issues involving politics or the war, and apparently about soldiers. Today, though, there was a break in that wall.

Shane could only pray that it was a beginning, and that one day very soon, the tender, passionate Lauren he had known and loved would find her way out from behind the wall. At the very least, he had something that day that he hadn’t had in months. He had hope.

And for now, that would have to be enough.

S
EVEN

S
omething was changing in Lauren’s heart, and though she didn’t want to dwell on it, she was horrified at the realization she’d stumbled onto that morning. That she’d harbored ill thoughts toward all soldiers. Her attitude had been inexcusable.

But what did the experience mean? Would this change of heart go deeper, into the far reaches of her opinions? She wasn’t sure.

Not until talk at the pizza place turned to the war.

Back at the soccer field, Carol seemed like such a wonderful, rational person. But now … she was passionate about the United States’ commitment to finish the task in Iraq. “The thing people don’t understand is the good our troops are doing.” She looked from her husband to Shane, and then to Lauren. “Iraq is a different place today, a better place because of the sacrifice our military is making.”

Almost against her will, Lauren felt her defenses rising again. She opened her mouth and then closed it, casting her eyes down at the laminated menu.
What’s wrong with you, Lauren? It’s one conversation, let it go.
She gritted her teeth and tried to find a diversion. The license plates that hung on the wall. That could distract her, right? She studied them, forcing herself to steer clear of the talk around the table. Fifteen seconds, twenty, and the license plates weren’t doing it. Instead she made lists in her mind of the interviews she needed to conduct for her next
Time
piece. But it was no use. The conversation drew her like gravity until she couldn’t hold back a minute longer. Carol was still waxing on about the benefits brought to the people of Iraq because of the war.

Lauren sat up straighter and found a tight smile. “But the insurgents will only take over again as soon as the U.S. pulls out. So what’s the point?” She bit her tongue, but it was too late. Her words had escaped before she could run them by the filter in her mind, the one that was supposed to help her act with more social graces.

Shane shot her a look across the table. She softened her tone and managed a smile. “I mean, how much longer will it take?”

“There’s two ways to tell that we’re winning this war.” Justin took a sip of his root beer and set his cup down. “First, U.S. citizens have been safe on our own soil. And second, we’re building an infrastructure of freedom through trade and government that has never been known in the Middle East.”

Lauren nodded and turned her attention to her ice water. Why couldn’t she be more like them? And how could the young man across from her be so compassionate one minute, and so committed to what basically amounted to killing the next? It was one of those times when she felt like a fish flopping around on dry ground, crazy in need of a place where she might fit in.

She said little throughout the rest of lunch, but in the car on the way back to the soccer field, she looked at Shane and frowned. “I’m sorry. Again.”

“Whatever.” He smiled at her, but his eyes held frustration. “I thought maybe today, after your reaction to Justin’s rescue …” His voice trailed off. “I don’t know. I guess I thought you might see everything else differently too.”

“I sort of wondered about that.” If she could take back her comments at lunch, she would. Or she’d say it more carefully. But that didn’t change how she felt. “I’ll try harder the rest of the trip, okay?”

Shane sighed. He worked the muscles in his jaw. “That’s just it. I don’t want you to have to try, Lauren.” He looked at her. “Don’t you see?”

She did, and there was nothing more she could say. Instead she reached out and took his hand. Because as long as he was there beside her, as long as his fingers were woven between hers, she had proof that they were still together.

Even if good-bye was feeling closer every day.

Something was wrong with her parents.

Emily said good-night to Justin earlier than usual and stood at the window of her room, tears in her eyes.
God … they’re not getting along. I can feel it. Show me what to do.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass and remembered the conversation at the pizza parlor. Her parents’ politics were still coming between them. Which was crazy because they were supposed to have all that stuff worked out. A small circle of fog built up on the window, and she rubbed it with her fist.

Her mother needed to be more careful with what she said, that’s for sure. But her dad too. The couple of glances he gave Mom must’ve hurt her feelings. Emily turned away from the window and plopped down on her bed. Pam was out, probably studying with a few of their teammates down the hall. The solitude felt good; she needed to think.

If her parents didn’t start trying to understand each other a little more, then something tragic could happen. She let herself fall back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. All this time … all this time she’d been thinking everything was okay, that they’d agreed to disagree on the war, and that they’d found a peaceful way to handle their differences.

But if what she’d seen today was any indication, things between them were far from worked out. In fact, as they all left the pizza parlor, she could feel the tension between her parents. Emily let out a slow, painful breath.
God, they can’t fall apart now, not when they’re supposed to be planning a wedding. Please, God … whatever it takes, please help them work through their differences.

The war was a complicated issue. Emily might work at an army base and understand her father’s opinions, but she understood her mother’s too. Her mother had seen the harsh reality of war firsthand. Of
course
she hated war. Anyone who’d been through what she had would hate it.

Emily sat up and hunched over her knees. Her body ached from the soccer games that day, and there were more to come tomorrow. She needed to get to sleep so she’d be ready to play. But after she washed her face and climbed into bed, it was still another half hour before she fell asleep. When she did, it was with images of her parents filling her heart and mind.

And the certain belief that somehow God would close the gap between them.

For the next three days, Lauren alternated between cheering for Emily — whose team made it to the final game — and studying Shane and his friends. Gary and Carol were some of the nicest people she’d met. Much nicer than anyone she’d connected with in Fallon.

Even so, their views and hers were worlds apart.

The night before the tournament championship, Emily pulled Lauren aside at the soccer field and searched her eyes.“Are you okay? You and Dad?”

A few seconds passed while Lauren caught her breath. “The two of us?” She made a silly face. “Of course, honey.”

Doubt remained in Emily’s eyes. “I’ve been watching you. It’s not like it was at Grandma and Papa’s house. Something … I don’t know, something’s different.”

Lauren thought for a moment and then decided. She needed to be at least partially honest with her daughter. Otherwise, if things didn’t work out, the girl would be blindsided. Lauren took hold of her hands and looked to the worried places in Emily’s soul.“We have a lot of differences, your father and I. Things we’re still trying to work out.”

Fear threw itself into the mix of emotions playing out in Emily’s expression. “But you love him, right?”

“Of course.” She soothed her thumbs over the tops of her daughter’s hands. Her tone changed. “But you need more than love, Em. Sometimes you need common ground.” She hesitated, and the familiar sting of tears poked at the corners of her eyes. “Your dad and I are still working on that.”

“So … how can I pray for you?”

Of course this was Emily’s answer. She’d spent a lifetime praying that she’d find them, and that if she did, they’d find love again together.

“Seeing Justin, getting to know him, that’s helped a little.” She gave her daughter a sad smile. “Just pray that God’ll give us a bridge, a way to understand each other better.”

Emily studied her. “You understand, right, Mom? That none of us want this war.”

“That’s what I keep hearing.” She refused to get into a debate with her daughter minutes after a soccer game.

“Well, it’s true. We don’t want war.” She pressed her hand against her heart. “We want a safe country, and we want the people of Iraq to be free. If it takes a war to make that happen, then we’ll fight to win.” She paused, seeming so sure of herself. “Can’t you see how that makes sense?”

Lauren wanted to dig a hole and hide from all of them. Shane and the Bakers, even Emily. How could she be so different from the rest of them? How could they not see that fighting was never the answer? A safer America? That could be accomplished through peace talks and treaties. Wasn’t that what parents always taught their kids — talk things out, don’t resort to violence? So why couldn’t the people she cared most about in the whole world see the situation in that light? Or why couldn’t she see it in theirs?

Emily was waiting, so Lauren pulled her close and hugged her, stroking her back. “You know what makes sense?”

“What?” There was such angst in Emily’s voice. She inched away, clearly still wanting answers.

“Why PLU gave you a soccer scholarship.” Lauren grasped at the upbeat tone, the one that felt more familiar, easier when it came to Emily. “Honey, you’re wonderful! It makes me so sad to think how many games I missed.”

Gradually, Emily’s expression changed until it was clear she’d made a conscious decision to let go of the previous topic. A smile replaced her concerned look and her eyes began to dance. “It doesn’t matter how many you missed. It matters that you’re here now.”

“And tomorrow’s the championship!”

“Exactly.” Emily leaned in and held her mother for a long while. “It’ll all work out, right, Mom?”

Her daughter’s simple words were like swords pricking the surface of her heart, allowing a pain that knew no bounds to slip free. “I hope so, sweetheart. I truly hope so.”

The topic didn’t come up again that night or the next day as they wished Emily luck before the championship. Again Lauren sat with Shane and the Bakers at the top of the bleachers. This time they didn’t talk about war or politics or the Middle East. They simply cheered Emily on.

Just after halftime, Lauren’s cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and felt her breath catch in her throat. Bob Maine, her editor. She stepped down from the bleachers and took the call several feet away. “Hello?”

“Lauren, tell me you’re at the airport.” The man’s gruff voice belied a heart as big as the magazine’s towering offices in New York City. “You haven’t answered my emails.”

“Because I’ve been busy working, Bob. Remember that? This is the first week I haven’t turned in a story.”

“But they’re stories anyone could write.”

“Thanks.” She kept her tone from getting too serious. This wasn’t the time to make a decision about returning to the Middle East.

“Lauren …” He gave a frustrated groan. “Okay, not
anyone
. You’re doing a great job reporting stateside. But we don’t have anyone like you over there, baby. We need you. Even just for six months.”

Six months. The thought bounced around her mind like an errant pinball. She could do that, couldn’t she? Make a six-month commitment, go overseas, report on the war, and maybe while she was there, try to look at things the way Shane and his peers saw them.

She turned and saw her group in the bleachers. Shane caught her eye, his smile as genuine as the summer sky. “Bob.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “I can’t make that decision now. I need … I need time.”

“How much time?”

“A month, at least.”

He sighed. “I’d like you there first of September. I’m serious, Lauren. Do what you have to do, but make it happen. That’s where you belong, and you know it.”

The conversation ended, and Lauren returned to her place next to Shane.

“Who was that?”

She kept her answer matter-of-fact. “Bob Maine.”

Shane rested his elbows on his knees.“Still bugging you about getting back to the Middle East?”

“He won’t let up.” She looked away and turned her attention to the soccer field. For the rest of the game, while Emily’s team won the championship and then on into the evening during the celebration at a nearby restaurant, she didn’t dare look too long into Shane’s eyes. Or Emily’s.