One Tuesday Morning & Beyond Tuesday Morning Compilation (67 page)

S
EVENTEEN

Jamie stood with her face against the door until she heard Clay drive away. What had she done? Opening up to him in the dark foyer, practically begging him for a hug? How could she be so shameless? Here in her own house, the place she’d shared with Jake? And what did Clay think, now that she’d practically thrown herself at him?

She rubbed her hands along her arms. Dirty, that’s what she felt. Dirty and cheap and completely disloyal to Jake. It was one thing to invite Clay over, to give him dinner and play backgammon with him. But the hug at the end was over the top.

Even if she didn’t have Jake’s memory to protect, she’d acted too quickly. Still…that was the strange thing about Clay. He seemed so familiar, already so much a part of her life.

She drew a long breath, then made her way through the house turning off lights and locking doors—what used to be Jake’s nighttime ritual. Finally she pushed herself up the stairs to the bedroom. No matter if Clay felt familiar or not, she’d acted inappropriately. Guilt and embarrassment mixed in her gut and shot through her heart, leaving her cheeks hot.

While she brushed her teeth, she could only stare at her reflection. What was
wrong
with her? How could she have changed so quickly, let go of the past in a forty-eight-hour window? And what about Aaron? No one would ever understand her loss the way Aaron did. Because it was his loss too, they forever shared a connection. But Clay? He was sympathetic, of course, but he’d never known Jake, could never understand the relationship she’d shared with him.

It was all so confusing.

She rinsed her toothbrush and set it back on the charger. The best idea was to forget about both of them, Aaron
and
Clay. All she needed was God and Sierra and memories of Jake. That was more than enough to get her through life until she could be with her husband again. She would work at St. Paul’s, and when the new Twin Towers were built, she would apply for a position at the official memorial.

If she spent her life helping the victims of September 11, she would be honoring Jake’s memory and never—not ever again—would she suffer the horrible pangs of regret that jabbed her now. She gripped the bathroom counter and hung her head.
God…I’m sorry. I acted on my feelings, but it was wrong. I know it was wrong. Help me to live a life that would please You and Jake and Sierra. And help me keep my distance from Clay Miles.

She looked up and her eyes fell on a small wooden plaque, one that had hung in her bathroom since her first birthday after Jake died. It had been a gift from her friend, Sue Henning.

“I bought us each one,” she told Jamie at the time, “because there’ll be days when we can’t leave home without remembering the message written there.”

Jamie looked at it now, studied it, and a chill ran down her neck and arms. The words were from the Bible. They read,
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.
Beneath that it said,
Proverbs 3:5–6
.

Her path felt crooked, for sure, after the evening with Clay, after their hug. If she was honest with herself, she wanted to kiss him. But how
could
she, when in her heart she was still married to Jake?

The Bible words gave her a different perspective, a peace. Never mind about Clay or Aaron or any of the emotions churning up her soul. Don’t try to figure it out. Rather trust God. He’d take care of making her paths straight; that was His promise. That’s what He was telling her, wasn’t it?

She straightened and headed into the bedroom.

Tonight she needed more than a single Bible verse. She wanted to get lost in Scripture, to swim through the verses and chapters until she found the safe harbor she desperately needed.

Jake’s Bible was on the dresser—where it always was. She picked it up, dropped into the nearest chair, and flipped it open. Some nights she used a study guide and read specific parts of Scripture. Other times, like tonight, she flipped through until something caught her eye. Jake had read this Bible thoroughly, and nearly every book was replete with highlighted sections, underlined verses, and notes written in the margins.

Jamie started at the beginning and thumbed through the books of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, passing various highlighted areas. But as she passed over Deuteronomy, something caught her attention.

It was her name; she was sure of it. Her name in a part of the Bible she’d never read before. She flipped back, turning the pages until she saw it again, scrawled in Jake’s printing above Deuteronomy,
chapter 30
. Jake had drawn a line from her name to a section of Scripture that read, “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live.”

Next to the text Jake had written this:

Jamie, this is for you. If I could get anything into your head, your heart, it would be that one point. Choose life, Jamie. Whenever you have the chance, choose life.

Choose life?

She read his words again and again and one more time before her tears blurred the letters. Sweet Jake, still lending her his wisdom and understanding. But what did it mean? She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Then she started at the beginning of the thirtieth chapter of Deuteronomy and began to read.

Clearly the story was about God’s people on their journey to the Promised Land. Jamie remembered hearing a sermon series on the topic at church the year after Jake’s death.
Chapter 30
told the people that God was giving them a choice. Choose His ways, His truth, His leading, and they would be choosing blessings and prosperity. Choose their own ignorant, prideful ways, the ways of idols or false gods, and they would be choosing destruction and curses.

Jamie stored the words in her heart as she finished the chapter. Yes, that’s what it meant. Life or death—the choice belonged to God’s people back then much as it belonged to every person born on earth. Choose God, choose life. Choose an alternate way, choose death.

Jamie, this is for you. If I could get anything into your head, your heart, it would be that one point. Choose life, Jamie. Whenever you have the chance, choose life.

Jake’s words had been aimed straight at her lack of faith.

An ache started in her chest and consumed her heart and soul. She hugged the Bible’s open pages close.

Jake had loved her with a love so great it could only have come from God. A love that left her to make her own decision. But not until she had a chance to read his Bible did she understand the angst she’d caused him. He prayed daily for her eyes to be opened, for his faith to become real to her.

That’s why it hurt so much now.

Jake died longing for one thing—the chance to share his faith with her. Yes, God answered his prayers. Through his journal, his Bible, through the confusion of trying to teach a stranger to be her husband, God answered Jake’s prayers. She found God and she would hold on to Him until her dying day.

But she never got to share Him with Jake.

The enormity of all she had cost the two of them had never been more clear. She’d missed the intimacy of praying with her husband, missed holding his hands and coming before their God with a single heart, single purpose. She’d missed looking into Jake’s eyes and seeing the love of Christ reflected there. Sure, she’d seen love in his eyes. Every time he looked at her, she saw love. But not God’s love, because she wasn’t aware of that sort of love. A deeper love, a bond that could only come through shared faith.

She’d missed all of it because of her stubborn pride.

Faith in Christ was the most important thing to Jake Bryan, and she’d missed the chance to understand that, to connect with him on that eternal level. She’d missed it and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

A canyon of sorrow cut through her heart. If only she could have one day to hold him again, look into his eyes, his soul, and tell him that she had done what he’d asked of her. She had chosen God’s life. One time to share the intimate bond of faith, an intimacy that would’ve made them even closer, more connected.

But it was a closeness she’d never know with Jake, and the truth of that pushed the canyon deeper until she could feel her heart breaking. For a long time she let the tears come, sadness that hadn’t taken the form of weeping for months.

Eventually her sobs subsided, and she blinked so she could see clearly. Then she lowered the Bible and read the underlined part once more.

I set before you life or death…choose life.

Choose life…

Bit by bit, realization formed. She’d made the choice for life when it came to Jesus. But what about the way she
lived
her life?

Images flashed at her, the days and months she’d spent at St. Paul’s, the conversations with Aaron about keeping the memory of September 11 fresh in the minds of people, helping the country to never forget. Then she heard Sierra’s innocent voice telling her she looked happy today, but not usually. Usually after her volunteer work she looked sad.

How could she have been so blind? She’d surrounded herself with death and destruction ever since Jake died. Talking about the dead, remembering the dead, commemorating the dead, honoring the dead. Reliving the destruction, imagining the destruction, putting herself next to Jake amid the destruction, staring at the place where the destruction happened.

It consumed her.

Not that working at St. Paul’s was a bad thing. They needed volunteers, and her time there had been a necessary part of her healing.

She closed her eyes. What was the prayer she’d said in the bathroom a few minutes ago?
Help me live a life that would please You and Jake and Sierra?
Wasn’t that it? Then she walks in, flips open Jake’s Bible, and reads a verse about choosing life?

Another chill worked its way down her spine.

Was it an answer from God? Was He telling her she’d spent enough time living in a cemetery, existing in a memorial? Was God giving her permission to move on, to choose life?

She read her husband’s words again and for a moment she could see him standing before her, smiling at her, running his thumb beneath her eyes to dry her tears. “Jake…”

His name hung in the air and the image of him faded.

All this time she’d volunteered at St. Paul’s so she could feel closer to him, closer to his memory. She’d done it to honor him and make him proud, because it was the sort of thing he would’ve done.

But not for two years straight.

The truth was suddenly clearer than air. Jake embraced life, lived it to the full without fear or doubt. He woke up each morning praising God and loving his family, and headed to work with a full heart. Always he had known he might die on the job, but the fact had never stopped him. The windy possibility of death had never so much as dimmed the brilliant candle that was Jake Bryan’s life.

Maybe she’d acted too quickly that night by hugging Clay; maybe it would be years before she was ready to fall in love with someone new. But if Jake were standing here now he would tell her it was time to step out of the darkness, time to turn away from death and destruction.

Time to choose life.

Now Jamie had only one question for God. How? She dug her elbows into her knees. Should she leave St. Paul’s? Invest her time somewhere other than memorializing the victims of September 11?

Find someone new to share her life?

The options were overwhelming.

She stood and set the Bible back on the dresser. Maybe she should call Sue, ask her what she thought of the verse. It was late, but Sue was a night owl. She’d still be up. Jamie was about to pick up the phone when it rang. The unexpected sound of it made her jump back.

Caller ID told her it was from a cell phone. Clay Miles. It couldn’t be anyone else.

She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hi.” The smile in his voice sounded over the phone lines. “I know it’s late, but I had two things.”

“Okay.” She felt herself smile, felt her eyes lighten and the burden lift from her shoulders. “Tell me.”

“First, I got a call from one of the guys on the department. He had a bunch of Broadway tickets donated to the police force; they had three left for
The Lion King
, and I snagged ’em. It’s Friday night. I thought you and Sierra might want to join me.”

“Lion King?
At the Amsterdam Theater?” Four different times Jamie had looked into tickets for Sierra, but the show was sold out months in advance. “Are you kidding?”

“Serious. They’re orchestra level, ten rows from the stage.”

“Clay!” She did a light scream. “Sierra will flip!”

He laughed. “I had a feeling. How about we head into the city about five o’clock. That way we can get some pizza before the show. Sound like a plan?”

Jake’s words came flying at her.
Choose life, Jamie…whenever you have the chance, choose life.
“Yes, Clay.” Happy tears stung at her eyes and she swallowed against the thickness in her throat. “A wonderful plan.”

They made a decision to have lunch the next day, then hung up. Jamie stared out the bedroom window at the shadowy bare trees, swaying in the early winter night. The timing of Clay’s call was unbelievable. There she’d been, overwhelmed with the idea of choosing life, of moving on. What did it look like and where should she start? She smiled, the tide of sorrow waning. Most of her questions were still unanswered, but at least she knew what she was going to do first.

She would take in
The Lion King
on Broadway with Clay and Sierra.

God would show her what to do after that.

E
IGHTEEN

Sierra had barely enough time to talk to God when she got home from school.

Clay was taking them to
Lion King!
The real live
Lion King!
She bounced into her bedroom and found Wrinkles on her bed.

“Wrinkles, guess what?”

The cat yawned and stretched out his skinny arms. He didn’t look that interested. Sierra dropped down on the edge and rubbed the soft fur between his ears. “Clay’s taking us to
Lion King,
can you believe it?”

Wrinkles looked at her and blinked. Sierra did a big breath because maybe that cat was jealous. Or maybe he didn’t understand. But God would, so she closed her eyes super-duper tight and tried to be serious. Only instead a squeally sort of laugh came from her mouth, so she jumped up and danced around the room until she bumped into the wall.

Then she settled down.
Settle down
is what Mommy said when she had a little too much energy. “God…Clay’s taking us to
Lion King!
Isn’t that the bestest news in the whole wide world?”

Of course God didn’t talk to her like her friend, Katy, or like her mommy would. But she could feel Him listening all the same. She licked her dry lips and did a smaller, shorter dance. “I think I like that Clay, God. Thanks for letting him meet Mommy on the boat when he saved her life from the bad guys.”

She opened her eyes and gasped. She didn’t have a nice dress picked out yet, and Mommy said to hurry. The closet had six nice dresses in it, so she picked out the frilliest and prettiest one, the one with blue and white and ruffles and a big bow in the back. Then her white socks with the lacy tops, the ones Wrinkles wore the other day.

Speedy fast she was ready and running down the stairs. That’s when she stopped, because Clay was already there and he and Mommy were smiling at each other. Real quick she added a P.S. for God, because she had something else to say. But this time she said it in her head so Mommy and Clay wouldn’t hear her.
God…I know Clay lives in California, but maybe he could change his mind and live here. Because he would make a nice second daddy, don’t You think? A second daddy like James has? Please think about it, God. Thanks.

Clay looked up at her. “Don’t you look pretty.”

“Thank you.” She did a curtsy, the kind she and her mommy did when they played princess. “And you look like Prince Charming.” He really did. He was tall and he had blond hair and his eyes looked like Prince Charming in the movie.

Clay did a prince-type bow and smiled at her. “That’s very nice of you, Sierra.”

Her mommy covered her mouth and laughed. Then she made smiling eyes at Sierra and said it was time to go. The trip into the city was the longest in the world. It felt like the week before Christmas because it lasted forever. But finally they ate their pizza and took a cab to the theater and went inside. The theater was the prettiest place in the world, with fancy decorations on the walls and ceilings and even the floor and seats.

They walked down toward the front until Mommy said, “This is it.”

Sierra went down the row first, then Mommy, then Clay. She wanted to stand up and dance around a little because this was the real
Lion King!
Instead her stomach did the dance by itself, twisting and jumping and proving how much excitement she had inside her. Plus also her head and shoulders did some moving and turning and looking at the other people and then her knees got involved.

Mommy leaned close to her. “Sit still, Sierra. Young ladies sit still at the theater.”

Sierra already knew that because Mommy took her here to see
Annie
once. But because of
Lion King
getting ready to start, she forgot. “Okay, Mommy. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Her mommy smiled. “You’re excited.”

“I’m
so
excited, Mommy. My tummy and head and shoulders and even my knees are excited.”

Clay leaned over Mommy’s legs. “That’s exactly how I feel.” He gave a nice nod, then he looked at Mommy. “I might need a reminder about sitting still too.”

Sierra giggled, and just then the lights went out. A squeal started to come from her mouth, but she smacked her hand over her lips and looked at her mother with a quick look that said she wouldn’t squeal again. Promise.

But she definitely did a lot of gasps.

The giraffes came up the aisles around them, and the lions covered the stage, and painted people were singing in the trees, and more of them from someplace near the ceiling, and it was all so amazing she could hardly stand it. A dancing person started singing “Circle of Life,” and that’s when the most amazing thing of all happened.

In the corner of her eyeball she saw Clay holding Mommy’s hand. And that’s when she was sure she would remember this night all the way until forever.

The moment Clay arrived at her house, Jamie knew the truth. No matter what she’d told herself the night before about jumping in too quickly or being ashamed of herself for her attraction to him, seeing him in person told the real story.

There was no turning back.

If she was going to choose life, if she was going to embrace it, then she couldn’t berate herself for hugging a man whose company she enjoyed. Never mind whether they ever saw each other again after these three weeks, for now all she wanted was to be with him. When he walked through the door, their eyes met. They stood there, looking at each other. Then—almost in slow motion—they came together in another hug. Not the sorrowful hug of the night before, but a hug of friendship and promise and something that defied time and reason.

A hug she neither regretted nor wanted to end.

Conversation had been light and upbeat since then, with Sierra providing the main source of dialogue. From her perspective, everything about the city was super bright and super busy and super big. She talked about all of it right until they took their seats.

It was when the music started, when the fullness of it surrounded them and swept them away on the story, that Clay reached out and took her hand. At first she expected him to squeeze her fingers or pat them, his way of telling her he was glad they were getting a chance to see the show, glad they were together.

But then he eased his fingers between hers, and the sensation sent a tingling feeling all the way to her knees. She was afraid to look at him, afraid the emotions tossing her soul around would be too transparent. Instead she focused on the way her fingers felt against his, the warmth of his large hand covering her smaller one.

The play was amazing.

She’d heard people say that
The Lion King
was in its own category theatrically, that nothing compared to it, and they were right. The costumes, the singing, the sets, it was more than Jamie could’ve imagined. Once in a while she looked at Sierra, and always her daughter’s eyes were wide and dancing, her mouth slightly open. She neither talked nor fidgeted, mesmerized by the experience.

And through it all, Clay held her hand.

At the part where Simba, the young lion king, meets up with his old childhood girlfriend, Nala, and the two sing about feeling the love in the air that night, Clay ran his thumb over hers. Tears stung at Jamie’s eyes, though she wasn’t sure why. Whether it was because she and Jake had been childhood friends…or because that very night love, or something like it, was indeed in the air. And it had nothing to do with Jake.

Then when Mufasa’s memory spoke to Simba, Jamie felt tears again. The message was the same as what she’d read in Deuteronomy. What Jake had written to her in the margins of his Bible. Loss was part of the package of living, but the fighter remains. He fights the good fight, he gets back in the ring, he never gives up.

He chooses life.

Jamie’s heart almost broke when the play ended. Not because the story was so moving, so brilliantly performed. But because when the lights went up, Clay released her hand. Probably for Sierra’s benefit. The two of them hadn’t had time to talk about what was happening between them, let alone involve Sierra.

On the way home she was more aware of him, the way he walked beside her, his arm brushing against hers, how he sat next to her in the cab, their legs touching. Once in a while she’d catch him watching her. Their eyes would meet and hold, and she’d feel the tingling again, a floating sensation that made her look down to see if her feet were still on the ground.

Back at the house, they went through the nighttime ritual with Sierra, and this time Clay took her hand and Sierra’s and offered to pray.

“God, thank You for a wonderful night. Thanks for singing and music and drama.” He paused. “And stories that touch our hearts.”

Jamie was supposed to have her eyes closed, but she couldn’t. She kept them open just enough so she could watch Clay, the way he bowed his head and prayed so easily, with a heart for God alone. She’d missed this with Jake, the praying. The thought shot a quick burst of pain into her heart, but it faded as Clay continued.

“You have a plan for each of us. A good plan. Help us keep our eyes open so we won’t miss it. Thank You, Lord. Amen.”

Her heart skipped a beat.
Help us keep our eyes open so we won’t miss it?
Was he talking about her, the two of them? She didn’t ask, and a few minutes later they were downstairs fixing snacks.

The atmosphere remained easy, uncomplicated throughout the evening. They watched country music videos and played backgammon—with Clay winning five out of seven. Jamie told him that Wanda had called her the night before. Joe finally had a chance to meet her children, and when he saw her little boy he broke down.

“I guess he looks exactly like the boy they lost.” Jamie bit her lip. “The kids went upstairs, and Joe wept. The thing was, Wanda didn’t know what to do with him. She hadn’t drawn comfort from him when their son was killed, and now she didn’t know how to give him comfort.”

Clay frowned. “Tough for both of them.”

“But get this.” Jamie dropped the dice she’d been fiddling with, her eyes locked on his. “Joe apologized. He sat her down and even through his tears he told her he was sorry for walking out, for not being there for her when she needed him most.”

“Wow.” Clay crossed his arms. “God’s doing something between those two.”

“Definitely.” She looked at the game board. “But I guess he left with things still awkward. Wanda asked me to pray for something to happen, something that will help them break the bonds of the past so they can find a new way to relate to each other.”

The conversation switched to the carjacker Clay had to shoot, and a handful of other calls—gang fights and domestic violence and drug busts—runs that had taken all of his training to pull off.

It was the first time Jamie considered the danger of his job. Just as dangerous as Jake’s had been—more so, in some ways.

Her reaction was proof she was different now; she wasn’t afraid for him. Whether he remained her friend or something more, she would never again live in fear for the safety of someone she cared about. Besides, like Jake, Clay loved God. And that was enough. Every day when he hit the streets he put on two kinds of armor. His bulletproof vest, and the armor of God.

Fear couldn’t add anything to that.

He closed the game board and dug his shoulder into the back of the sofa. “So tell me about you, Jamie. Other than St. Paul’s and playing dress-up, what do you do? Hobbies? Sports? Jester training?”

She giggled. “Definitely jester training.” Her smile eased. The question was harder than it seemed. What did she do with her time, after all? “I like to jet ski.” An image of Jake and her flying across the water filled her mind. She willed it to disappear. “And I used to take a ceramics class. You know, pottery, painting little statues, that kind of thing.”

“Not anymore?” Clay angled his head, his expression mildly curious.

“No.” She made a slight lift of her shoulders. “I haven’t gotten back into it, I guess.”

“What about the jet skiing?”

She looked at her hands. He wasn’t probing, really. Just learning more about her, maybe learning more about how far she’d come since losing Jake. Her eyes met his again. “Not as much as before.”

A knowing filled his eyes. “It was something you did with Jake?”

“Yes.”

He winced a bit. “Sorry…I wasn’t…I didn’t mean to bring up something that…”

“Something about Jake?” Her heart hit another level of respect for the man across from her. On top of everything else, he was compassionate.

“I guess.” He exhaled through pursed lips. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She hesitated. “For the rest of my life Jake’s name will come up. It has to; I shared twenty years with him.” Her voice softened. She was letting Clay see a part of her that few people saw. “At first, after September 11, I couldn’t talk about him without breaking down.” She tucked her feet beneath her. “What happened to Jake will always be sad, but I can talk about him now.” She lifted the corners of her mouth. “Time does that to you.”

“You loved him very much, didn’t you?” He set the game board on the floor and slid closer.

“Yes.” She shifted her gaze to the chair across the room, the one that had been Jake’s. “His memory is always with me.” A Shania Twain song came on the television, a love song that lent an intimacy to the moment. She looked at him again. “And you, Clay? What hearts have you broken?”

“Not many.” He chuckled and shifted so his back was against the sofa. Only a few inches separated them. “The LA girls I’ve met don’t have hearts; just brains and beauty.”

“New Yorkers can be that way too.”

“I’m sure.” His laugh was slow and easy. “Actually, there was one girl, someone I met in high school.”

She studied him, the way his eyes didn’t change when he talked about the girl. Whoever she was, Jamie guessed she no longer had a hold on Clay Miles. “Did you date her?”

“No. We were friends. In fact—“ his light chuckle made her smile—“she married my brother.”

Jamie raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yep.” He sounded comfortable, as if whatever pain had been involved no longer hurt him.

“Did it make things hard between you and your brother?”