The Chance: A Novel (55 page)

C
aroline needed to get to yesterday’s mail, but not yet. Bills and advertising could wait. For now, she and John were eating lunch and talking about this morning’s sermon.

“I liked what the pastor said.” John’s words were thoughtful. “We should be different than the world.”

“We should.” A flicker of guilt seared Caroline’s heart. A real Christian never would have had an affair. She dismissed the thought and smiled at her son. “That has to be our goal.”

John ate quickly, and after a few more minutes of conversation and a quick hug, he grabbed his basketball and ran out the door for the park. Only then did Caroline pick up the mail at the end of the counter.

She flipped past the electric bill and the Shell statement and two pieces of advertising, and suddenly she stopped cold. The next piece was a white envelope with her name written across the front. Her breath caught in her throat because at first she thought maybe it was from Ellie. Hundreds of times she’d sent a letter to her daughter without ever getting a response. If this were the first time, Caroline would have to go outside to catch her breath.

Just as quickly, she flipped it over and caught the name on the back. Alan Tucker. San Diego. Her heart flip-flopped in
her chest, and she slowly found a spot at the kitchen table. Why would Alan write to her now? After all this time? A cold chill came over her. Was this the divorce paperwork she had expected back when he first moved away?

She had never considered remarrying, never dated. She refused to contact a lawyer, unwilling to admit that she and Alan were really over. If there would be a divorce between them, Alan would have to make the move. Caroline dreaded the day divorce papers might show up in the mail. She would certainly lose Ellie forever—in a custody battle. But the papers never came.

Her fingers shook as she held the envelope, staring at her husband’s name, his handwriting. The papers hadn’t come until now. Alan had probably fallen in love and now he was ready to remarry.

She slipped her finger beneath the envelope flap and opened it. Inside was a card, one with a beautiful photograph of mountains and a stream. What was this? She leaned back, desperate to calm her racing heart. Inside, the card was covered in Alan’s handwriting, and it seemed to continue onto a folded piece of lined paper. Whatever Alan wanted to tell her, the message wasn’t brief.

The card contained no divorce papers.

Her eyes found the beginning of the letter.

Dear Caroline,

I should’ve written this letter a long time ago. But lately . . . well, lately, God has changed me on the inside. Changed me so that now I can see what a wretched man I’ve been, how terribly I treated you, and how I pushed you away.

Caroline felt the room start to spin. What in the world was happening? Was she dreaming, or was it a trick? A prank? The Alan Tucker she knew never would’ve written a letter like this. She leaned one arm on the table to support herself. No matter how badly he had treated her, Caroline had never stopped praying for her husband—at least every now and then—that God would get ahold of his heart and remind him of the man he used to be.

The one she had fallen in love with.

But she’d never expected this. She struggled to believe Alan had written it. She found her place and continued. He went on to talk about how he must have been a monster to destroy the joy in her eyes and heart. He admitted that he was wrong to berate her and control her.

Then he talked about her affair.

Caroline felt sick to her stomach, waiting for the condemnation and accusations. But they never came. Instead, he took full blame for what had happened. Gradually, a feeling of release washed over her, and she stopped dreading each sentence.

I knew it was happening. You were gone so often, home late at night . . . Now I can’t believe you didn’t leave me sooner.

He talked about being angry when he heard she was pregnant and wanting to do whatever he could to get back at her. Shame made Caroline’s cheeks hot. His feelings weren’t a surprise. There was no other explanation for his decision to pull up stakes and move without even a weekend to prepare. Of course he wanted to get back at her.

He wondered who she might be now and whether time away from him had helped her. He explained that he was leaving his contact information for her—just in case—and he asked for her forgiveness.

I wish I still lived in Savannah. I’d come find you and look you in the eyes and tell you how sorry I am. I’d take you in my arms and try to love you back to the girl you used to be.

The years of losses piled up and brought life to her tears. Tears she had stopped crying over Alan Tucker long ago. She couldn’t imagine being in his arms again; the thought was too frightening to consider. No one had ever talked to her with such venom as the man she had married.

She took a deep breath and finished reading. Her heart skipped a beat when she reached the part about him having an awful confession, something he could barely tell her. Even so, she never expected what came next. Three times she had to read his words to believe what had happened.

Alan had kept the letters from Ellie? All this time? She pictured herself sitting at this table early in the morning and late at night, on afternoons like this, with John outside playing basketball. Year after year after year. So many letters, so many words of love and hope and explanation.

Not one of them had actually reached her.

Caroline pushed the card away and covered her face with her hands. The devastation of that, the weight of it, crushed in around her chest and made her feel like she was underwater. Her poor daughter, all this time believing that her own mother didn’t care enough to contact her.

Dear God, why?
She couldn’t cry, couldn’t move. The idea that Ellie hadn’t heard from her since moving to San Diego was more than she could bear.
Lord, help me . . . I don’t think I can take it. I’m not strong enough. Please, Father . . . help me.

I am with you, daughter. You will not fight this battle alone.

The words sounded so loud that she peered through the cracks between her fingers and looked around. As if maybe a burning bush had sprouted in her apartment living room.
If you’re with me, then help me, Lord. My daughter must think I hate her. All this time . . . Father, all this time. What am I supposed to do next?

The suffocating feeling remained, but a thought occurred to her. One that brought hope. Ellie hadn’t responded because she’d never gotten the letters. But Alan said by the time Caroline was reading his letter, her daughter would have them. Once and for all, they’d be in her hands.

Two things sparked life in Caroline’s soul.

First, Ellie hadn’t been ignoring her letters the way she’d thought. She hadn’t been reading letters from Caroline and tossing them in the trash. And second, she was finding out that she’d been loved and cared for, no matter what she’d come to believe over the years.

She went to the window and watched John drive to the basket and make a layup, watched him celebrate with his friends. How much she had missed with Ellie. So many years. But maybe everything was about to change. The fact that Alan was sorry was already more than Caroline had ever imagined.

The bigger issue was Ellie. Caroline spread her fingers on the warm window. If Alan had given Ellie the letters, then he knew where to find their daughter.
Wherever she is, God, let her
know how much I love her. Help me reach her. Until then . . . I trust you, Father.

When she finished praying, she didn’t hear a response, like she had earlier, but she had a sense that hadn’t occurred to her for many years. As she missed Ellie and loved her and wished for the two of them to reconnect, one thing was true, especially in light of this bittersweet news.

God loved her more.

A little over a week ago, Peyton Anders’s guitar player had shown up out of nowhere and prayed for Ellie. And now, after so many seasons of heartache and loneliness, something miraculous had happened.

Ellie had gotten her letters.

Chapter
Twenty-three

T
he timing was too crazy to be a coincidence.

That was all Nolan could think as he threw a bag of clothes together in his Atlanta house. They had two days off before they needed to be at the Hawks’ facility every day, leading up to the finals. Two days—the last day of May and the first day of June. If the front office had given him a calendar this year and asked him to pick two days he absolutely had to have off, those would be the days.

Nolan had talked to Ryan Kelly again, and the man had given him Caroline’s work number and address. Her office was the first place Nolan planned to go tomorrow once he arrived in Savannah. She might not know anything, but it would be good to see her. Good to let her know how badly he wanted to find Ellie.

Of course, he still had no way of knowing where Ellie was or what she was doing. Whether she was out of the country or married or no longer alive. But if he had the next two days off, this much was certain: He was spending one of them at Gordonston Park, beneath an old oak tree.

Just in case she remembered.

T
hey were an hour away from Savannah, and Ellie was exhausted. Kinzie slept seatbelted in the backseat, the way she’d been sleeping since they left Birmingham at six that morning. Ellie’s shoulders ached, and her eyes burned. The drive had been harder than she thought. So many hours, so many miles. But she wouldn’t trade it. The time with Kinzie had been wonderful. They listened to her
Adventures in Odyssey
CDs—something her daughter had been given at church. The stories were nice. Ellie couldn’t count the number of times her daughter had laughed out loud.

As she drove, time and again Ellie had been struck by an undeniable truth. Kinzie was a truly happy child, undamaged by the world around her. No telling how long that would last, given her family tree. But for now Ellie was grateful. In the rearview mirror, she watched Kinzie stretch and turn one way, then the other. A yawn came over her, and she sat up and opened her eyes. “Are we there yet?”

“Not quite.” Ellie laughed quietly and glanced at her daughter again. It was easily the most asked question of the trip. “Another hour.”

“That’s all?” Kinzie blinked, still sleepy. “An hour’s nothing, Mommy. That’s how long church lasts, and that always goes by really fast.”

“Well, then, we’ll be there really fast.”

Kinzie giggled. She looked out the side window. “It’s different here. More greener.”

That had been true for most of yesterday and all of today. The feel and sight of the South made Ellie realize how much she’d missed it. How had she waited this long to follow her
heart? To get in a car and simply erase the distance back home? “How was your sleep?”

“Good.” Kinzie yawned again. “Know what I dreamed about?”

“Tell me.” Ellie focused on the road.

“Okay.” Kinzie sat a little straighter and took a big breath. “It was a long dream, and you were in it, and I was in it. We were in Savannah, and my grandma Tucker was there, and all three of us were going to church together.” She smiled at Ellie. “Isn’t that the best dream?”