Ray of Light (24 page)

“Then that's settled,” Roman said with a grin. “As soon as possible, we're all going to go to Ohio.”

“We're getting married, Roman?” Regina asked hopefully.

“Yep. We're all getting married as soon as possible.”

There were so many more things to say. And so many things that would probably forevermore be left unsaid. But all that mattered was that moment.

Where they were all together. The three of them plus one shaggy dog.

And this moment would one day rest in her memories, tangled in a hundred, a thousand moments of her life. She'd remember the time Roman had appeared on the beach, loving her enough to give up everything.

At almost the same moment that she'd decided the same thing.

She'd remember the way the sand had felt under her feet, the way she spied the sun sinking low over the horizon. She'd remember the sharp smell of the ocean and the faint scent of Regina's faded sunscreen.

She'd remember feeling exhilarated and awake and so, so very alive. She'd remember feeling in love and happy.

She'd remember it all for the rest of her life.

Forever.

Roman had just leaned close to kiss her when the condominium manager called her name.

Surprised, Amanda turned to him. “Yes, Mr. Conway?”

“Amanda, we just got an urgent message for your beau,” he said as he came rushing out to greet them, seemingly oblivious to the way the sand he was kicking up was sticking to his dark slacks. “Son, are you Roman Keim?”

Roman strode forward. “I am. Is something wrong?”

“I'm afraid so. We just got a call from your grandmother. Your mother has just been admitted to the hospital.”

“What?”

“That's all I know.” He thrust a piece of paper into his hands. “But here's the phone number of the hospital. Your grandmother asked you to call as soon as you can.”

Turning to her, Roman's face was a study of disbelief and grief. “Amanda, Regina, I don't know what to say.”

“I do,” she said simply. “We had better see if Pioneer Trails has room for us on the next run to Ohio.”

“You're sure you want to go back right away?”

“I'm positive. I want to be there for you. I want us to be together.”

“What about Goldie?” Regina asked.

“We can put her in an animal carrier and she can ride the bus, too,” Roman said. “She won't like it, but she'll do all right.”

“I don't deserve you,” Amanda whispered.

“Of course you do. We all deserve each other,” Roman said with a smile. “We're a team now, you, Regina and I. Together, we'll be able to get through anything.”

Roman reached out for both of their hands. Then, the three of them started the long walk back, Goldie for once walking sedately at their heels.

Though so much in life could hurt and go so wrong . . . at the moment nothing felt more right.

Epilogue

This is how life goes, Lovina decided as she took a turn by Marie's bedside in the intensive care unit at the hospital. Some days it was wonderful. And other times? Not so much. Life was truly a series of hills and valleys.

Sometimes it was also downright scary.

The doctors said that Marie was going to be better soon, and Lovina hoped and prayed that was true. Currently, Marie had a number of tubes and cords attached to her, as well as a noisy machine that helped her breathe.

She'd woken in fits and spurts, but had been so drowsy and feverish Lovina didn't think she understood where she was.

The rest of the family was coping with her sickness the best they could. Aden and his family had come in from Indiana. Lorene and John had cut short their wedding trip and were back in Berlin, too. The house was as full as it had ever been, and the noise and commotion brought back memories of when their five children were still small.

As the machines beeped and blipped and Marie's slumber continued, Lovina stretched out her legs and let her mind drift.

First, she thought of happier times, such as when Roman and Amanda had returned to Berlin together and announced their engagement. Or how radiant Lorene had looked on her wedding day.

Oh, indeed, her daughter had looked so happy. So, so different from the last few years, when Lorene's demeanor had seemed so bleak.

Remembering that, of course, took Lovina to another time, back when she was simply Lolly.

When everything about her life had felt bleak and dark, too.

She remembered going to the market, her arms full of miscellaneous items for her mother. Near the checkout counter she'd seen Jack's parents, their steps faltering when they caught sight of her.

She'd ached to dart back down an aisle, but experience had shown her that hiding solved nothing.

Lifting her chin, she strode forward to meet them. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Kilgore.”

Almost reluctantly, they stopped. “Hello, Lolly,” Mrs. Kilgore said.

With a start, she noticed that Mrs. Kilgore's eyes were red-rimmed, and the lines around Mr. Kilgore's eyes looked deeper than she remembered. They both looked haggard. Exhausted, really. They also were staring at her. Glaring, really. Almost as if they were daring for her to challenge them.

Or maybe they were daring her to speak?

She felt thoroughly confused. “How are you both?” she asked reluctantly, feeling as inane as her words sounded.

Mr. Kilgore blinked, just like she'd managed to surprise him. “Lolly, have you not heard?”

“I don't know what you're talking about. Have I not heard what?” But of course, the moment she said the words, a curious buzzing started to ring in her ears.

And she knew.

“Jack is gone,” Mrs. Kilgore said through clenched teeth. “His helicopter went down over Saigon.”

Lovina blinked, hearing the words, but not fully comprehending them. “Went down, you say?”

“The helicopter crashed,” Mr. Kilgore said flatly. “Our boy died in Vietnam.”

Jack was gone. Gone, just like Billy. Just like their innocence. Just like all her dreams, and all the silly, too sweet dreams she'd had about her future.

Gone.

Her world began to spin.

“Lolly? Lolly!” Mrs. Kilgore exclaimed. “Jim, I think she's about to faint.”

Vaguely, she was aware of being helped to the ground. Next thing she knew, she was sitting on the cold linoleum of the grocery store floor, leaning up against a shelf full of canned tomatoes.

When her vision cleared, she looked up at Jack's parents. The couple she'd imagined would one day be her in-laws. “I'm so sorry,” she murmured, just as tears started falling down her cheeks.

The couple, now looking like all the fight had filtered out of them, hovered ineffectually over her. Mrs. Kilgore was wringing her hands. “Lolly, dear. I am sorry we told you like this. I guess we should have thought to have given you a call. Or called
your mother. . . .” She continued to talk, with Mr. Kilgore adding something every now and then.

But it all sounded garbled to Lovina. She hardly understood what they were saying.

Well, perhaps she didn't remember it now, Lovina reflected as she returned back to the present.

Somehow she'd made it home. A couple of weeks later, she'd moved on and got a job working as a clerk at the local bank.

And then, one day, in had come Aaron. Looking so healthy and proud and Amish.

Looking so different from any man she'd ever known.

Then, of course, everything had changed. They'd started talking, one thing led to another . . . and she'd left all the pain behind.

Well, she'd thought she had.

“Lovina, I hope you're not worrying too much,” Aaron stated from the doorway. “Peter just spoke with the
doktah
. He said Marie's health is improving.”

“That's
gut
news.”

“It is
gut
, indeed. Marie will get better. She has to. Why, all of us are praying for her recovery.”

Once again, she looked at her husband. Thought about the trip they were planning to take to Pennsylvania in an attempt to finally put their pasts behind them. If they could find the strength to do that, why, she was sure that Marie could find the strength to regain her health.

Slowly, she got to her feet and met him at the door. “I was just sitting here, thinking about how time marches on.”

To her surprise, he took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “One day this, too, shall pass. Just like everything else.” In an obvious effort to cheer her, he said, “Why, it seems like not so long ago that we were corralling our
kinner
at the grocery store.”

The memory made her smile. It had been exhausting, trying to get five children anywhere on time. It had been fun though, too. “It was more like they corralled us,” she said. “Some days, I fell into bed feeling like I was the tiredest woman on earth.”

“They did have a way about them,” Aaron agreed, his eyes bright. “They were busy and rambunctious and loud.”

“So loud!” she agreed, remembering all the arguments and joking and giggles.

“But they turned out okay.”

“Better than okay,” Lovina said fondly. “I'm proud of them. They're
gut
people.”

“Soon, we'll be marrying off more grandchildren. Viola next.”

“And maybe Roman . . . ”

“Yes, and maybe Roman sooner than we realize.” He yawned. “Peter is outside, waiting for his turn with Marie. I think we should let him come in. Are you ready to leave?”

“Almost. I'll be there in a moment.”

He paused, almost looking as if he was going to say something else. But then simply nodded. “All right.”

Quietly, Lovina walked back to Marie's bedside and opened the blinds a bit. Let the sun shine into the darkened room, brightening things up.

And though Aaron was waiting for her and Peter was anxious to sit with Marie, Lovina sat down and watched the rays of sunlight stream across the sheets and blankets that covered Marie.

Little by little, the constant noise from the squeaks and pings of the machines drifted over her and faded into the background. Until she hardly heard them anymore.

When she was sitting in silence again, she felt peace settle over her. One that was as calming and sustaining as it was unexpected.

Here in the hospital room, when everything seemed so dark, she recognized the feeling for what it was . . . a glimmer of hope.

A chance for happiness that she'd almost forgotten existed.

Until recently, hope was something that she'd long ago given up on. Something that, over time, she'd twisted and turned and damaged . . . so much so that she'd even started to imagine that the emotion had never existed.

Or at least had passed her by.

But now she saw what it was. Hope was a ray of light in a life filled with regret and disappointment. It had always been there, lurking in the background. As perfect and as endearing as God's love.

“Light shines on the godly, and joy on those whose hearts are right,” she whispered.

Yes, all she'd had to do was open the blinds covering her heart a bit. Let in the light.

“I believe,” she whispered to the Lord. “I believe,” she repeated to Marie.

And then, carefully, she reached out and grasped Marie's hand and gently moved it to rest in one of the rays of light shining on the bed.

And felt the warmth of the sun cover both of their hands.

She closed her eyes and gave thanks.

And basked in its glow.

P.S.

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About the author

Meet Shelley Shepard Gray

I
GREW UP IN
H
OUSTON
, T
exas
, went to Colorado for college, and after living in Arizona, Dallas, and Denver, we moved to southern Ohio about ten years ago.

I've always thought of myself as a very hard worker, but not “great” at anything. I've obtained a bachelor's and master's degree . . . but I never was a gifted student. I took years of ballet and dance, but I never was anywhere near the star of any recital. I love to cook, but I'm certainly not close to being gourmet. And finally, I love to write books, but I've certainly read far better authors.

Maybe you are a little bit like me. I've been married for almost twenty years and have raised two kids. I try to exercise but really should put on my tennis shoes a whole lot more. I'm not a great housekeeper, I hate to drive in the snow, and I don't think I've ever won a Monopoly game. However, I am the best wife and mother I know how to be.

Isn't it wonderful to know that in God's eyes that is okay? That from His point of view, we are all exceptional? I treasure that knowledge and am always so thankful for my faith. His faith in me makes me stand a little straighter, smile a little bit more, and be so very grateful for every gift He's given me.

I started writing about the Amish because their way of life appealed to me. I wanted to write stories about regular, likeable people in extraordinary situations—and who just happened to be Amish.

Getting the opportunity to write inspirational novels is truly gratifying. With every book, I feel my faith grows stronger. And that makes me feel very special indeed.