The Chance: A Novel (48 page)

Hadn’t she said something about a basketball player? Ryan stared at his ice cream. Nolan had arrived, showered and changed, a few minutes ago. He chatted with Gunner and his parents, and beside him, Molly touched his shoulder. “They’ve made a new batch.” She nodded to the sundae bar. “Hot fudge.”

“What?” Ryan caught the glances from Gunner’s parents and even from Nolan. “Sorry . . . I was distracted.” He stood and nodded to the ice cream bar. “I’ll be back.”

The others laughed lightly, and even Gunner smiled. Still lost in the details, Ryan found the hot fudge and returned to the table. He took a few bites of his ice cream, then he set his spoon down. “Nolan, can I ask you something?”

Nolan leaned his forearms on the table. “Sure.”

The question might be crazy, but he had to ask. Ryan’s heart slammed against his ribs as he looked straight at Nolan. “Does the name Caroline Tucker mean anything to you?”

Nolan Cook had a reputation for being poised and easygoing, whatever question came his way. But here, in light of Ryan’s question, he simply froze. The color left his face, and he seemed unable to respond. Ryan wasn’t sure how much time went by. It didn’t matter.

He had his answer.

Gunner’s parents seemed to sense that something had changed around the table. They used the moment to take the boy to the restroom. Molly looked confused, but she slid closer to Ryan.

Nolan found his control. He uttered a single laugh. “How do you know Caroline?”

“She’s an old friend of Peyton’s.” He could feel Molly grasping the situation beside him. “I met with her when I was in Savannah.”

“Caroline Tucker and Peyton Anders? They were friends?”

“A long time ago.” Ryan couldn’t say too much.

Nolan flexed the muscle in his jaw, and again he seemed to struggle to find his next words. “What made you ask?”

Since Gunner and his parents weren’t back yet, Ryan shared what he could. “You mentioned the girl, the one you were going to marry. She moved to San Diego with her dad when she was fifteen.”

“Caroline told you about that?” His eyes looked sad. The shock seemed to make its way from his mind to his heart.

Suddenly Ryan remembered the basketball detail. “She told me her daughter had to leave with almost no notice . . . and that she left behind her friend, a high school basketball player.”

“She didn’t mention my name?”

“No.” Ryan pictured Caroline sitting across from him at the coffee shop, the way she had hesitated at that part of the story. “The girl you were going to marry . . . is her name Ellie?”

Slowly, gradually, tears appeared in Nolan’s eyes. He massaged his temples with his forefinger and thumb. Then he sat straighter, his determination evident in every movement. He dropped his hands to the table and nodded. “Yes. Ellie Tucker.”

Ryan felt for the guy. Nolan hadn’t moved on. He might’ve been only fifteen back then, but Nolan obviously cared for her still. “I’m sorry. I had to say something.”

“Thank you.” Nolan glanced toward the restroom. Gunner and his parents were still nowhere in sight. “Has her mother heard from her?”

“No. She’s sent letters—one a week, I guess. But she hasn’t heard anything.”

Nolan absorbed the blow. “She doesn’t want to be found. I’ve tried everything.” He closed his eyes briefly. “So what’s it mean?” He looked at Ryan. “You talked to her mom last week? Why would God put us together?”

“From the minute I went on tour, I felt the Lord was up to something.” Ryan looked at Molly. She knew better than anyone how strong the feeling had been. He turned to Nolan again. “Maybe this is it.”

“I have to think it through.” Nolan tapped his fingers on the table, his eyes narrowed, moving from one spot to another, as if trying to see through the thickest fog. “Caroline wants to see her, right?’

“Desperately. We prayed about it, that they would find each other . . . that God would bring healing.”

The news sparked something in Nolan. “She talked about her faith?”

Ryan felt tenderness in his smile. “Very much. She’s raising her son by herself and praying for her daughter. She hasn’t heard from Ellie or her husband since they moved.”

“So Caroline’s not married.”

Again Ryan was careful. Nolan was close to figuring out information that Ryan wasn’t privy to share. “She’s a single mom.”

“Hmm.” Nolan looked off, lost in thought again. “I have to find her. For me and for her mom.”

Ryan didn’t say anything. Molly reached for his fingers, and the two of them were quiet. Gunner and his parents were taking a long time. The boy mustn’t feel well. “Well . . . let’s pray. For Caroline and Ellie.” He looked toward the restroom. “And Gunner.”

“Yes.” Nolan Cook raked his fingers through his hair. He looked like nothing more than a college kid trying to figure out life. He bowed his head. “Ryan . . . please.”

Ryan breathed deep and held tighter to Molly’s hand. Then for the second time that week, he prayed for a young woman he’d never met, and that the two people who missed her so much would find her soon. And he prayed for Gunner, that memories of this day would get him through whatever was ahead. “We pray believing . . . we pray trusting. Thank you, God. In the powerful name of Jesus, amen.”

When he opened his eyes, Gunner and his family stood close by. Gunner’s dad had his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “We need to go.”

“Guess what?” Gunner looked pale, his cheeks sunken even as his eyes sparkled. “That’s exactly what happened. What you prayed about. I was sick in the bathroom, and all of a sudden I remembered playing that game with Nolan.” He stopped and grinned at his basketball hero. “And I didn’t feel sick!”

Ryan smiled. “Prayer is powerful.” He looked at Nolan. “Maybe that’s what God wants us to remember after today.”

“Definitely.” Nolan held his gaze for a few seconds. He stood and went to Gunner and hugged him one last time. While the boy was in his arms, Nolan peered at him and then
Ryan. “Our mighty God still hears us . . . and He still answers prayers.”

Ryan and Molly waited until after Gunner was gone before turning to Nolan. “We should probably go, too.”

“Wait.” Nolan looked from Ryan to Molly and back. “You didn’t tell me your story.”

“Oh, that . . .” Ryan laughed lightly and looked at Molly. “Molly and I were very close when we were younger. We hung out at a bookstore called The Bridge, but then Molly moved away and we lost touch. It wasn’t until something crazy and nearly tragic happened to the old bookstore owner that we wound up in the same place again.”

“I knew the minute I saw him. Like no time had passed.” Molly tilted her head, her voice pensive. “If there’s ever a reason you and Ellie might wind up in the same place at the same time . . . be there. Don’t miss it.” She slipped her arm around Ryan’s waist and kissed his cheek. “That’s my advice.”

“Yes.” Ryan turned to Nolan. “Don’t miss the chance.”

Long after they said their good-byes and reached the car, Ryan still thought about it, replaying the impossibility of the connection. “God’s doing something big. I’m absolutely sure.”

“Mmm.” Molly watched him from the passenger seat. “Wouldn’t it be something? Healing and restoration, brought about by God because you took this tour? Because you talked to Peyton?” She smiled. “I’m proud of you for contacting Caroline Tucker, for putting it together tonight. You’re showing everyone what Romans 8:28 looks like.”

Ryan smiled. “ ‘All things work to the good for those who love God.’ ”

“Exactly.”

A reverent quiet fell over them the rest of the short ride
back to the hotel. Were they front row to what could be a miracle? Healing from brokenness? Whatever God was up to, Ryan had the feeling as they drove down Jefferson Street that they were no longer in their old SUV, no longer participants in any ordinary moment.

They were on holy ground.

Chapter
Twenty

N
olan was the last one to leave Philips Arena. He found the spot—left side, three-point line—and sank the shot on the first try.
For you, Dad. Make sure he knows, okay, God?
He grabbed his bag and headed for his car. The day had been emotional enough, with Gunner’s visit and the Hawks’ comeback win. The way the team rallied around the sick little boy.

But the rest of the night was nothing short of a miracle. What if Molly hadn’t come along for the visit? What if her husband had been on the road tonight? How was it possible the man had been chatting with Caroline Tucker just days ago?

Nolan drove slowly, barely aware of streets and stoplights. When he got home, he went to the hutch in his bedroom again and stared at the photograph. Nolan and Ellie, frozen in time. Her mom had written her a letter every week and never heard a single thing back. Fear sliced through him and filled his blood with adrenaline. Didn’t that terrify her? Didn’t she wonder if Ellie was even alive? He opened the cabinet and took the photo from its place on the shelf. He ran his thumb
lightly over the frame, over the place where she looked back at him. “You would’ve found me, Ellie . . . I know you.”

His heart flip-flopped inside him. It was like Ellie had disappeared completely. What if she was no longer alive? Dead from a car crash or sickness?
Please, God . . . not Ellie. Please let her be alive somewhere. Help me find her.
Nolan took the picture to the edge of his bed and sat down. What hadn’t he tried? He had called the base years ago, trying to find Alan Tucker. But maybe . . . maybe Ellie’s father had a new position or a new job. Maybe if Nolan made a few phone calls tomorrow, he could figure out where the man worked and call him. If anyone knew whether Ellie was alive, it would be her father.

The man who had taken her away.

Calling her dad was something he could do, something other than thinking about her and missing her and counting down the days until June first. Only five days remained now. Five days until the date that, eleven years ago, had seemed a lifetime away. Molly’s words came back to him. If there was a reason to be in the same place at the same time . . . don’t miss the chance. It was as if she could read Nolan’s deepest thoughts. He breathed in slowly, his eyes on Ellie’s.
What happened to you, Ellie. . . . Why don’t you want to be found?

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but something deep within his being told him she was alive. Alive and hurting. A spark of concern became a sense of real and pressing alarm. He thought about Ellie often and prayed for her always. But now the urgency was different.
God? Is Ellie in trouble?

Pray, my son . . . pray without ceasing.

The message seemed to come from a voice deep within his soul. It was too real, too profound, to ignore. Wherever she was, whatever was happening in her life, Ellie needed prayer.
Nolan couldn’t wait another minute. Holding her photograph to his heart, he slid down onto his knees and bowed his head.

For half an hour—as if his next heartbeat depended on it—Nolan did the only thing he could do.

He prayed for Ellie Tucker.

T
wenty-nine letters into the box, Ellie wasn’t sure how much more she could take. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to open the box last night, but she hadn’t slept either. This morning she had called in sick, and after taking the girls to school, she came home and started reading. Now her eyes were red and swollen, and her heart would never be the same again. On top of that, the sky had been overcast all day—the June gloom typical for the West Coast had come earlier than usual. She was home alone, Tina at work, and the girls at school. A cool breeze sifted through the open living room window.

A shiver came over Ellie, and she wondered if she was getting sick. Maybe she would die from a broken heart. Literally too much pain all at once. Her fingers were cold and stiff, but she managed to open the next letter. The motivation to read another of her mother’s messages was too great.

She pulled out the single piece of paper and read the date. Her mom always included the date. Almost as if, deep within, she knew Ellie wasn’t getting her letters, and that if there ever came a day when she did, that detail would be important. The way it was now.