Mulberry Park (20 page)

The thumb of his outstretched arm brushed across the brass plate that proclaimed Carl Witherspoon a loving husband and father, which was merely another reminder of how unfair things had been.

The Fairbrook Community Church had been packed the day of Carl’s funeral. If Walter had been the one to drop dead of a heart attack, instead of Carl, they could have just done away with the whole memorial. In fact, they could have just lowered the box into the ground and been done with it. No fuss or flowers would have been necessary, not when there wouldn’t have been anyone to cry or mourn.

“So why spare me, God, and not the others?”

Walter hadn’t really expected an answer. Nor had he expected a memory to surface that triggered the feelings he’d had for the only real mother he’d known.

He’d thought about Irene a lot over the years and realized that she’d probably loved him more than anyone else had. And that she’d been the only one who’d believed he would amount to something.

“Maybe you’ll grow up to be the president of the United States,” she’d told him once.

But when Walter had been about Trevor’s age, Irene’s health, which had never been good after her accident, began to fail.

She’d called him to her bedside and admitted she was dying. Then she’d taken his face in her hands. “But don’t you worry. You’ll be just fine. And you won’t be alone. God will always be with you. And He’s going to use you in a powerful way someday.”

Good thing Irene wasn’t here to see that Walter hadn’t amounted to much. Not that he’d done any serious jail time or been a complete loser.

“God has plans for you,” she’d insisted. “Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future. All you have to do is believe in Him and trust Him. And He’ll see you through.”

She’d said it like she’d had some kind of word from God Himself. Walter had kind of put it all out of his mind back then. But now, thinking back on it, he wondered if she’d known something he hadn’t.

Was that why Walter had been spared? First from the winter cold? Then from enemy fire? Because God had a plan for him?

If so, it was certainly difficult to see why. Or to understand what that plan was.

Had Walter somehow dropped the ball? Forgotten to do his part?

“You’ll hear God’s voice if you seek Him with all of your heart,” Irene had told him time and again.

Was
that
what had gone wrong? Had Walter merely asked for things and not stuck around long enough to listen for a response?

At a loss and unsure of what else to do, Walter bowed his head and removed his arm from the backrest so that he could clasp his hands together in his lap. “Here I am, Lord. What you see is what you get. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, and I have no business coming to you at all. But I’m tired of the pain, the sorrow, the loneliness. And I don’t want to go it alone. I’ll give you my heart and my life, what’s left of it anyway.”

The breeze swirled around him, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Walter sensed a spiritual presence, a connection, and he just sat there, taking it all in.

“Irene said you had plans for me, Lord. So if you’ll just show me what they are, I’ll try to keep my eyes and ears peeled so that I can get the job done.”

Walter wasn’t so bold as to press God into action, especially when he figured the Almighty was smart enough to know He’d better hurry since time was running out—for Walter
and
for Trevor.

“By the way,” Walter said, his head still bowed, his eyes still closed. “If you can spare a miracle, I’d be eternally grateful if you would heal that little boy.”

Claire didn’t know how Sam or Jake had managed it, but before the end of the day, Russell Meredith arrived at the hospital, accompanied by a prison escort.

In court, he’d worn expensive suits and ties like those of any sharp young executive. But now, dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a white T-shirt, his dark hair long and in need of a trim, he resembled an ordinary blue-collar worker, a man who did his own yardwork and took out the trash.

He stood in the doorway of the ICU waiting room, pain and worry etched across his face with sharp, bold strokes. His eyes bore evidence of a long, hard cry.

As he carefully scanned each occupied chair, Claire suspected he was looking for Katie.

When his gaze locked onto Claire instead, her heart ached for another grieving parent. Unable to do anything else, she stood and made her way to him. “Katie just took a short break. She’d been here since last night and went home for a quick shower. She’ll be back soon.”

“My attorney said that you stayed the night here, too.”

Claire glanced down at the clothes she’d been wearing for nearly twenty-four hours. A quick trip home and a shower would do her good, too. “Katie is pretty torn up. I didn’t think she should be here by herself.”

Of course, now that Russell was here, Claire had an excuse to leave—if she wanted one.

“Have you been able to see Trevor yet?” she asked.

“I just left him.” Russell’s eyes filled with tears. “Seeing him like that, hooked to a ventilator, his head bandaged, his blood pressure and oxygen levels being monitored…”

“It’s tough.” Claire hadn’t meant to remind him that she knew just how he felt—the helplessness, the worry, the fear…

“Do you mind if I talk to you?” he asked. “Just for a few minutes?”

Her heart skidded to a halt, then started back up again. Part of her wanted to say no, to find an excuse to leave. But she supposed it was time they faced each other. “Sure.”

“Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that accident and wish there was something that I could do to make everything all right. I wanted to contact you a hundred different times, but my first attorney adamantly advised me not to.”

She doubted she could have handled talking to him before. Could she now?

“You have no idea how sorry I am.”

Claire was sorry, too. Yet where there’d once been anger, there was merely shared pain.

“This may not be the best place or time, but if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to explain my side of the story. All of it. Not just the responses my attorney coached me to make.”

Somehow, she had a feeling this might be the perfect place to talk, so she pointed to a couple of seats against the far wall where they could have some privacy. Russell glanced at the escort, who nodded an okay.

As they sat side-by-side, one parent to another, Russell began his story. “A little more than four years ago, when my wife was diagnosed with an aggressive form of pancreatic cancer, I was the rising star at a new software company. I’d been working day and night to provide for my family, and her death just about killed me. I tried to gain control of my life and my grief by pouring myself into my work, and before long, I was offered a partnership. I knew Trevor was hurting, too, but since he never really cried, I assumed he was doing okay. But I was wrong.”

“The lack of tears isn’t always a sign that someone is grieving well.” Claire ought to know. She’d had enough counseling sessions in the past.

“I know that now. I picked up on Trevor’s depression during his visits to me at prison, so I read everything I could get my hands on about the subject, especially when it came to kids. Anyway, about a year after my wife died, I met Katie, who was a waitress at a diner down the street from my office. When I was with her, I didn’t hurt anymore, so I began to spend more and more time with her. I thought having a new lady in my life would be good for Trevor, too.”

Claire could understand why. In the time the women had spent together at the hospital, she’d come to realize how devoted Katie was to Russell and his son. “Katie loves you both very much. And she’s tried to take good care of Trevor while you’ve been gone.”

“I know. And I’ve grown to love her, too, but at first…well, it took a while to get over my wife, to let myself love again.”

Again, Claire knew what he meant. Some people found it difficult if not impossible to rebound after tragedy like that. And she was one of them.

Russell cleared his throat, then leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows on the armrest of his chair. “Three years ago, on a Sunday afternoon, I was driving home from the office. It had been two weeks since I’d allowed myself some time off, and I was mentally exhausted and growing increasingly frustrated by a problem we were having with a new software program the company was developing.”

Claire recalled one of Russell’s coworkers had testified that he’d been working that day.

“My cell phone rang while I was on my way home, and it was Katie, complaining—
again
—about how often she watched Trevor for me and how little time we spent as a couple. I’d been under more pressure than she could have possibly understood, and something inside me snapped. I blew up, telling her I was tired of her crap.

“Up ahead, I spotted a man and woman—you and your husband—riding bikes and passed them, just as the road made a turn. I swear I didn’t see a child with you.”

Erik had been riding in front of Claire and Ron. As the road curved, they’d momentarily lost sight of him, but she let Russell tell his side of the story.

“The glare from the setting sun had grown worse, and so had Katie’s complaints and the tone of her voice. I felt a bump, as though my car struck something, and I took a quick glance in the rearview mirror. All I saw was the movement of some shrubbery along the side of the road.”

Claire and Ron had just come around the bend in time to see Russell’s SUV strike Erik, throwing the child and his bicycle into the bushes. At that moment, their lives had slammed into a wall.

As if in slow motion, they’d quickly thrown down their own bicycles and climbed through the brush to find their son.

“When I got home, Katie was waiting on the front porch in tears. She apologized for not being more understanding. I was sorry, too, and we made up. I’d meant to check the side of my vehicle for any damage caused by the shrub, but it slipped my mind once we went inside.”

“Had you been drinking?” Claire asked.

“Not a drop.” Russell took a deep breath, then slowly let it go. “The next day, the newspapers and television stations ran a story about a hit-and-run accident that had caused critical injuries to a boy riding a blue bike. But it wasn’t until later that evening that I even heard about it. When I did, an uneasiness settled over me, and my stomach churned. Knowing that I’d traveled along that road about the same time the accident occurred, I went outside to check the passenger side of my SUV. That’s when I spotted the dent and the streak of blue paint.”

He hadn’t turned himself in until late that second night, about the time Claire and Ron had agreed to remove Erik’s life support.

“As soon as I realized what had happened, I called a criminal defense attorney, and he came over to my house. After we talked, he accompanied me to the police station, and I turned myself in.”

Erik had died the next morning, before Claire and Ron had learned the driver had finally come forward.

“You may not believe me,” Russell said, his eyes red from tears he’d shed before and filling with new ones now, “but I’m truly sorry for causing your son’s death. In my heart, I know that accident could have happened to anyone, but I’ll carry the guilt to my grave.”

Claire would be hurting until the day she died, too. But seeing Russell suffer, watching as his own child battled death, did nothing to ease her pain. And in fact, it seemed to make it worse.

“It’s taken me a long time to get to this point, Russell, but I forgive you. I’m also sorry that you’re in the same situation that I was once in. No parent should have to go through something like this.”

Russell nodded, then dropped his head and studied his hands. Claire wondered if he would be able to forgive himself. She tried to put herself in his shoes. What if she’d struck Trevor with her car last night? How would she feel if she were responsible for all of this?

She couldn’t even imagine coping with the guilt.

Something shifted deep inside, something that had kept the pain and grief lodged permanently in her chest, and a balm of peace washed over her.

Before she could fully acknowledge the freedom she’d been granted to live and love again, a nurse came to the doorway of the waiting room.

“Mr. Meredith?”

Russell stood, his eyes announcing his fear. “Yes?”

“Your son is awake and asking for you.”

C
laire checked the blue and yellow streamers that swooped across the patio, as well as the table decorations, one last time before her guests arrived.

In the past, she’d loved throwing parties, but there hadn’t been much to celebrate lately. However, a lot of things had changed in the three weeks since Trevor had awakened from his coma without any sign of brain damage—a miracle that had touched everyone who knew him.

As Claire straightened the vase of flowers that adorned the buffet she’d set up on the countertop of the built-in barbecue on the patio, she glanced at the chocolate birthday cake that rested in the shade. The bakery had done a nice job decorating it with buttercream frosting and piped roses.

Everything was ready for Walter and Hilda, the guests of honor, and the others Claire had invited. She’d even sent an invitation to Trevor and his family. With Russell out of prison, she hadn’t hesitated including them, but wasn’t sure if they would come.

Sam had promised to arrive early and help with any last minute details, and although Claire had it all covered, she was looking forward to seeing him. They’d had several dates already, each one nicer than the last.

Expecting him any moment, she glanced at the face of her bangle wristwatch to check the time just as the doorbell rang.

Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as she strode through the living room, opened the door and greeted Sam and Analisa with a smile. “Come on in.”

Sam brushed a kiss across her lips, and she stole a moment to savor his musky scent.

“Guess what?” Analisa tapped on Claire’s hip. “I made you something. See?”

“You did?” Claire took the paper the child handed her.

“It’s another picture for your fridge.” Analisa grinned and crossed her arms, while Claire took note of a brown animal, with a long tail and a yellow banana in its mouth.

“How cute is this? A monkey, just like the ones we saw at the zoo last week.”

“His name is Ralph. Do you want me to put him up for you?”

“Would you please? You’re such a good artist. You might have to make room for him, though.” Claire’s refrigerator was loaded with artwork these days, especially since she was still babysitting Analisa for Sam.

“That’s okay. I’ll move pictures around and put the newest ones in front.”

As Analisa dashed off, Sam lifted his arms, and Claire closed the gap between them, eager to share another kiss, this one deeper and more intimate than the one he’d given her when he arrived.

As the kiss ended, Sam continued to hold her close. “I’ve got dinner reservations for us tomorrow night at Antoine’s. And Hilda said she and Walter would babysit.”

“Those two are becoming quite a team.”

Walter had taken care of Hilda during her recovery, then came up with a plan that would work out well for everyone involved, especially since Sam had gone along with it.

Hilda had recently given up her apartment, moved in with Maria and would soon provide daycare for the Rodriguez children so Maria could go back to work. On the way to the office each morning, Sam would drop off Analisa at Maria’s. There she would have breakfast with the other children and play until Sam picked her up. Then, when school started in September, she would catch the bus and ride with Danny to Applewood Elementary, where they would both attend second grade.

Instead of heading to the park each day, as Walter had been doing in the past, he was going to help Hilda look after the little ones.

Sam ran his knuckles along Claire’s cheek. “You and I are becoming a good team, too.”

Before Claire could agree, the doorbell rang again.

“I’d better get that.” She slowly drew away from Sam’s embrace and answered the door, seeing that most of her guests had arrived together in Maria’s minivan. The kids dashed in first, followed by their mother. Hilda and Walter brought up the rear.

“It was so nice of you to throw a joint birthday party,” Maria said as she entered. “Hilda and Walter have really been looking forward to it.”

“I thought it would be fun to help them celebrate. Besides, we all have a lot to be thankful for.”

“That we do,” Hilda said, as she followed Maria inside.

Walter, who held the handle of the baby carrier and brought in the sleeping newborn, chuckled. “I just hope we don’t set the house on fire with all those candles.”

Claire laughed, then turned her attention to the newborn baby. “Just look at him. He’s so much bigger than the last time I saw him.”

“Isn’t he something?” Walter beamed at the child as though he were the grandfather. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he grew up to be the president of the United States someday.”

As Hilda and Claire began to ooh and aah over the infant, Analisa came running back into the living room, excited to see that her friends had arrived.

“Hey, guys.” Sam gathered the children together. “Let’s all go out in the backyard. If you want to play tag, I’ll be ‘it.’”

Claire realized Erik’s swing set would have come in handy today, but Ron had taken it down right after their son’s death. “I couldn’t stand looking at it,” he’d told her.

Ron would probably be glad to know she’d finally boxed up Erik’s things, most of them anyway, and placed them in the garage. She was going to have the Salvation Army pick them up one of these days. But she wasn’t procrastinating for any reason other than that she kept forgetting to make the call. Sam and Analisa were keeping her so busy she just hadn’t found the time.

“Walter?” Hilda caressed the elderly man’s arm. “If you’ll carry that little guy outdoors for me, I’ll keep an eye on him while the others play.”

“You betcha, honey.” Walter watched as Hilda made her way toward the sliding door that led to the patio, following Sam, Maria and the children, then turned to Claire. “Thanks for having the party. Hilda hasn’t celebrated her birthday in years, and it’s been even longer for me.”

“You’re welcome. It’s been fun.”

“I’m glad. It’s about time you started enjoying life.”

“Yes it is.” Claire gave him a one-armed hug. “And now that you mention enjoying life, how are things going for you?”

“Great.” His grin bore evidence that Claire hadn’t been the only one to experience a heart-healing, faith-renewing miracle that July day. “In fact, you might not know this, but I’ve been stopping by to see Trevor on Sunday afternoons. And guess what? I just found out that Russell learned how to play chess while he was in prison.”

“Sounds like a match made in Heaven,” Claire said with a smile.

“You’re right about that.” Walter’s grin broadened, happiness glowing in his eyes. “If my old buddy Carl could see me now, he’d sure be proud. I’m becoming the friend and mentor that he used to be to me. And that’s not all. Russ has been encouraging me to call my stepsons, and last night, I finally did. Blake was a bit reluctant, but Tyler’s willing to see me next week. I told him I couldn’t do anything to change the past, but I was a new man these days. And that’s the truth. God’s hand is surely on my future.”

And God’s hand was on Claire’s future, too. She’d already enjoyed lunch and a day at the spa with Vickie, which had been a long time coming. They’d even made plans to go shopping together next Saturday. But more than that, the wrongful death settlement from Erik’s accident would have a positive purpose.

Over the last two weeks, Claire had decided to utilize a portion of it to create a charitable foundation called The Heart of an Angel. The decision alone had done wonders for her healing process, and she’d already begun to gather some enthusiastic board members, including Sam, who was handling the legal details.

A knock sounded, followed by the doorbell.

“While you get that,” Walter said, “I’m going to take this little guy outside.”

Claire smiled as she watched him go, then opened the door and found Trevor, Katie, and Russell on the porch. “I’m
so
glad you could make it. Come on in.”

It was heartwarming to see Trevor healthy and whole again, a bright-eyed smile dimpling his cheeks.

Claire gave the boy and Katie each a hug, then reached an arm out to Russell. As they shook hands, she noticed that he’d had his hair cut, and that his face bore a bit of color, suggesting he’d spent a lot of time outdoors lately.

“Thanks for inviting us.” He released his grip, and his voice softened. “And thanks for the money you sent. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” Claire had thought it was only fair to return part of the settlement money to Russell. That way it wouldn’t be so hard for him and Katie to start over. “Consider it my wedding gift.”

“All right, I will.” Russell slipped his arm around Katie and drew her close. “When Jake dropped off your check, he told me you were creating a foundation to help disadvantaged kids.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do and a good way to perpetuate Erik’s memory.”

“If you need a Web site designed, or if there’s anything at all I can do to help, just let me know.”

“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be taking you up on that.” Claire offered him a genuine smile, one straight from the heart, then pointed to the sliding door. “Everyone’s outside if you’d like to join them.”

Trevor, who’d been standing between his father and Katie, inched toward the lamp table and picked up a silver-framed photograph of Erik standing beside his bike. “Hey! How do you know this kid, Mrs. Harper?”

Claire wondered if the boys had met, but couldn’t imagine how they could have. “That’s Erik, my son.”

Trevor’s eyes grew wide. “Are
you
his mom?”

Claire’s gaze ping-ponged from Trevor, to Russell and Katie, then back again. “Yes, I am.”

Trevor showed the picture to his father. “This was the kid I told you about.”

Russell’s brow furrowed as he studied the photo, then he looked at Claire. “After Trevor came out of his coma, he insisted he’d met God.”

“You met
God?
” Analisa, who apparently had spotted Russell’s car and raced in from the yard to greet Trevor, entered the living room and approached her friend. “For
real
?”

“Yeah, it was Him. He didn’t have to tell me. I just knew who He was.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because there was so much love in His eyes that I couldn’t even see His face. And His robe was made out of weird threads of light or something. Then He showed me these green fields with tons of flowers in all kinds of colors I’d never even seen before. And there was a stream there, with water that was as clear and sparkly as blue diamonds.”

Claire didn’t know what to say. She’d heard stories of people having near-death experiences. And the doctor had said they’d lost Trevor on the operating table—twice. He certainly seemed sincere. Could he have really seen those things?

“There was a boy with God.” Trevor pointed to Erik. “
This
one. He talked to me and said, ‘Tell my mom that I’m happy here and not to worry about me. Let her know that I’m going to see her again someday.’”

Tears filled Claire’s eyes, and emotion clogged her throat.

“The boy, I mean Erik, was telling the truth,” Trevor added. “I could tell he was super-happy because it was so cool there. I
really
wanted to stay, but God told me I couldn’t. He said I had stuff to do before I could come back.”

While Claire was at a complete loss for a logical explanation, in her heart she knew Trevor had seen Erik. She bent down and gave him a hug, holding him close, just as she’d once held her son. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

In the past few weeks, Claire had come to believe that Erik was in Heaven. But now she’d been blessed with confirmation.

“Do you want to go outside and play?” Analisa asked Trevor.

“Okay.”

As the kids headed toward the sliding door, Analisa asked, “Do you know what I’m going to do?”

“What?”

“I’m going to write another letter to God and thank Him for letting you see Heaven and a real live angel.”

“You don’t have to write letters. All you have to do is talk to Him. When I was in Heaven, it was like His heart already knew exactly what mine was feeling, and I think it’s the same way when we’re here.”

Claire stood in awe at what she’d just heard. Trevor had been in the presence of God and seen a glimpse of Heaven, something most people would never witness and live to tell about.

Yet in her own way, Claire had experienced God, too.

She’d learned that His voice was a whisper in the breeze and a sense of peace within a storm. And that His biggest miracles occurred when a heart listened and obeyed.

For those who believed, Claire realized, death wasn’t the end.

It was merely…

The beginning.