Halfway to Forever (24 page)

And they would have been alive today.

If only Jenny hadn’t screamed.

She knew thoughts like that were crazy, but they came anyway. Now that Grace was gone, it made her wonder what she
could have done to prevent
that
from happening. Maybe if she hadn’t given her heart over so quickly, so completely … maybe if she’d allowed the precious girl to be nothing more than a welcomed guest … maybe then Grace’s grandmother never would have come looking for her and today she’d still be living with them.

Jenny dried her face with the edge of the sheet and turned onto her other side. This time she kept her words silent, allowing them to echo only in the most private places of her heart.

Lord, I know You can hear me. I have a favor to ask. Please, God, when You see my dad and Alicia today, could You tell them to pray? Have them pray for Grace. Because I don’t believe she’s better off in Oklahoma; I believe she needs to be here with us. And right now I need my dad and my best friend to pray for me. But You see, God, I can’t ask them, because they live in heaven with You. So please, God … ask them for me, okay? And when You do, tell them I miss them. Tell them I always will
.

The idea that she could ask God to give her dad and Alicia messages was one that always brought peace to Jenny’s soul. Despite nightmares about giant white pickup trucks or a little sister she might never see again living a thousand miles away, Jenny drifted off to sleep, resting in the arms of the only One who could keep her dad and Alicia—and now little Grace—alive in her heart.

The only One who could make them feel close enough to touch.

T
he next morning, nothing felt right to Hannah. She waited until Matt and Jenny were gone for the day, poured herself a cup of coffee, and curled up in a deck chair outside. The fog had settled in overnight, and the damp gray of the sea and sky fit Hannah’s mood.

When Grace was taken from them, she made a decision to handle it well, to show the world and her family how much she’d changed since losing Tom and Alicia four years ago. Losing Grace would not set her back a year, wouldn’t make her turn against God or renounce her faith. It would be painful, but she would survive.

At least that was the plan.

Instead she’d been short with Matt, distant from the Lord, and several times she’d canceled her volunteer work at the hospital so she could stay home and clean the house or take walks along the beach. Of course, she always wound up in Grace’s room, straightening her pillow and dusting her shelves. Jenny was the only one who understood. Poor precious Jenny was suffering at least as badly as Hannah.

The hot steam from her coffee warded off the chill in the morning air, and Hannah held the mug closer to her face. She took a careful sip, wishing the hot liquid could somehow burn away the anger and doubt and bitterness that had crept back into her heart.

She gazed across the water and bit hard on her lip.

Why?

Why did God bring Grace into their lives in the first place? And why had they agreed to take her? She was a foster-adopt child, after all. A child with risks she and Matt had agreed up front not to take. The reason was easy enough. Mrs. Parsons had convinced them. She had told them the chances were basically nonexistent that anything would disrupt Grace’s adoption. And so they’d agreed.

Many times in the past three weeks, she’d mentioned to Matt that someone ought to do something about the social worker, file a complaint against her or notify her superiors that she’d reneged on a promise. How dare the woman bring Grace into their home and give them time to fall in love with her unless she was absolutely certain that nothing would stop the adoption.

And what about Patsy Landers? How could the woman call herself a Christian, then without the slightest hesitation take Grace from the most stable home she’d ever had? How could she deny the girl a lifetime of love from two parents who cherished her?

Hannah’s eyes welled up. She wasn’t sorry they’d taken Grace in. The little girl had been worth every minute. The memory of watching her blossom into a talkative, confident little girl in the months they had her was something all of them would cherish forever.

But still it didn’t seem right. Mrs. Parsons should have checked Grace’s background better, researched to see if Grace’s mother was telling the truth about the grandmother in Oklahoma.

Hannah took another sip of coffee just as the door opened. Matt stepped outside and sauntered over, taking the seat beside her. “Hey.”

Immediately a ray of sunshine pierced the darkness around Hannah’s heart. “Hi.” Matt rarely came home in the middle of the day, and almost never in the morning. She situated herself so she could see him. “Did you get fired?”

“Nope.” His eyes twinkled. He leaned back in the chair and lifted his chin, letting the ocean breeze wash over his face. “I’m home for two reasons.”

“One …”

He reached for her hand and wove his fingers between hers. “One, I had something profound to tell you.”

She raised her brows, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. “Two?”

The corners of his mouth rose a notch. “Two … I forgot a file I need for a meeting this afternoon.”

“I knew there had to be a catch.” She dusted her thumb over the palm of his hand. “Okay, what’s so profound?”

Matt’s expression grew serious. He shifted his weight forward and met her gaze. “We need to talk.”

Hannah’s stomach tightened. “You sound serious.”

“I am.” With the fingers of his free hand, Matt traced her cheek. In his eyes she saw love, but something else. Concern, maybe. Or disappointment. “You’re doing it again, Hannah.”

His words hung together and formed something she didn’t recognize. “Doing what?”

“I know you don’t mean it—” he rested his forearms on his knees and studied her— “but ever since Grace left …” He met her eyes. “You’re angry again. Like you were after Tom and Alicia died.”

The hairs on the back of Hannah’s neck rose as quickly as her temper. How
dare
he accuse her of being angry! Who did he think he was, telling her how to feel? “I have a right to be mad.”

“Okay.” Matt leaned back in his chair. “At who?”

“At Mrs. Parsons … at Patsy Landers.” Hannah balled her hands into tight fists. “At myself for agreeing to take Grace in the first place. At you for not stopping me. I don’t know.” She released a loud huff. “I’m just mad! It wasn’t right what happened with
Grace. She was our
daughter
, Matt.”

Something about the calm in his eyes made Hannah even angrier. She raised her voice, her tone harder than she intended. “That was the profound thing you wanted to tell me?”

“Yes.” Matt shrugged. “And that I found something in the Bible today that might help you.”

His suggestion felt like a slap in the face. “My faith is fine, thank you.”

He studied her as though weighing what he was about to say. “You wasted a year hating Brian Wesley, Hannah. Where did it get you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t throw that at me, Matt. I had a right, and you know it.”

“Hey …” He reached for her hand, but she jerked it back. He hesitated, and she knew he was trying to maintain his cool. “You gave up your rights when you agreed to be a Christian, remember? The only real right you have now is to ask God for help in forgiving your enemies. Whoever they are.” He softened his tone. “Isn’t that what Tom’s last words were all about?”

The reminder tightened like a noose around her neck. Frustration multiplied within her, and she hissed her response. “That isn’t fair.” She stood and glared at him. “I don’t need Scripture or a lecture or a reminder about Tom’s dying words, okay?”

Matt cocked his head, his expression harder than before. “What do you need, Hannah?”

“I need Grace, okay? And I need you to leave me alone.” Before he could say another word, she stormed inside, through the kitchen and upstairs to their bedroom. There she slammed the door and flopped on the bed.

Fifteen minutes passed, and she heard Matt leave. She sat up and watched through the bedroom window as his car pulled
away, and regret welled up within her. She balled her hands into fists. Why was she taking it out on Matt? He’d coddled her fragile emotions since Grace left; it wasn’t his fault. Hannah exhaled through clenched teeth.

Still she was angry. Even at him.

Matt’s words came back to her.

You’re doing it again … being angry only hurts you more
 …

Was it true? Was this the same way she responded four years ago after losing Tom and Alicia? Memories moved across the screen of Hannah’s mind. The times when she shut everything from her mind except her desire to see Brian Wesley pay for what he’d done. Times when she asked Matt to stop praying for her, stop mentioning God, stop making references to Scripture.

She had been too angry to hear any of it.

Hannah crossed her legs and dropped her head in her hand. Since Grace left, she’d told herself that she was handling it better than before, especially when it came to her faith.

I still believe in You, God, don’t I? I haven’t turned my back on You
.

There was no response, no whispers of holy assurance …and Hannah realized it had been days since she’d prayed. She stared at the pattern on their bedspread. Maybe she wasn’t openly against God like before, but she certainly hadn’t gone to Him for help.

Tears spilled onto her ankles, and a mountain of discouragement settled on her shoulders. She hadn’t learned a thing about forgiveness. She was right back where she’d started all those years ago, back when she and Tom were kids growing up in the same neighborhood.

Hannah pictured the basketball game when Tom first noticed her problem. A boy from two streets over had beaten her at a game in Tom’s driveway. Afterward he turned to her and told her, “You play basketball like a girl.”

The comment infuriated her. Years later the same boy was in a class with Tom and Hannah, and she constantly fired rude comments at him.

“What’s your problem,” the boy shot back at her one afternoon.

Even now Hannah could feel the way her eyes narrowed at the boy. “I play basketball like a girl, remember?”

Tom had witnessed the exchange, and later that day he shoved her playfully in the shoulder. “When you’re mad you never let up, do you?”

Hannah remembered feeling somewhat embarrassed, but her ability to hold a grudge came up a handful of times in the years that followed.

Especially the year Tom began dating a girl at Oregon State University while he was playing baseball there. Some of the biting comments Hannah made about the girl were legendary even a decade later. Comments they laughed about, but comments that were wrong all the same.

At least for someone who professed faith in Christ.

Hannah had studied the Scriptures over the years and read verses about mercy being better than judgment and how anyone who judged another would also be judged. She read about forgiving a brother not once or seven times, but seventy times that. And still she struggled.

Of course the ultimate battle was really more of a war, one that had been waged against Brian Wesley, the drunk driver who killed Tom and Alicia. For an entire year Hannah could barely think about anything but her determination to see Brian Wesley punished. In the end it hadn’t been a conviction or a Bible verse or anything Matt said that helped her live again.

Rather, it had been Tom’s dying words.

She leaned over her legs and dried her cheeks on her jeans. It
had been three years since Hannah had looked through Tom’s Bible, the place where she kept the letter containing his last message to her. There had been no reason to dig it out during that time. And now … now that there was reason, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

She stared out the opposite window at the still foggy coastline, trying to convince herself she didn’t need the painful reminder of Tom’s last bit of wisdom to help her let go of Grace. But the more time that passed, the more she knew she was wrong. Hadn’t she kept the letter for this very purpose?

She moved from the bed into the hall closet and there, on the top shelf, pushed toward the back wall, was the leather-bound, cracked blue Bible that once had been Tom’s daily morning companion. Hannah took it down and stared at it a moment.
Thomas Ryan
was engraved in the lower right corner on the cover. She ran her fingertips over the name and hurt with a sadness that hadn’t crossed her heart in months.

Regardless of how happy and in love she was with Matt, a part of her would always miss Tom, the man she’d fallen in love with as a girl, the one she’d fully expected to share her life with. She pushed those thoughts away and carried the Bible back to her bedroom, holding it the way she might hold a bouquet of dried flowers. This time she found a chair and once she was settled, she took a slow breath and opened it to the page, halfway through the book of Proverbs, where the letter lay tucked inside.

Her name was scrawled on the envelope, but it was neither Tom’s paper nor his handwriting. He’d spoken those final words to a police officer at the scene of the accident, a man who failed to pass them on for more than a year because he didn’t think them logical.

Hannah took it from the envelope and remembered how the flood of emotion had been unleashed in her soul the first time she
read it. She opened it, and with eyes blurred by tears, she read it once more.