The Chance: A Novel (74 page)

That was when she noticed his face, the tears on his cheeks. Alan looked from Ellie and Kinzie to Caroline. “You can thank Nolan.” He looked at the young man next to him. “It was his idea. He flew me out.”

“Well . . .” Nolan’s eyes looked damp. He held Ellie closer, his arm around her shoulders. “I can’t have my dad here.” His
voice was strained. “So having you here . . . to watch us win the championship . . . that was the next best thing.”

Caroline wasn’t sure what to do first. John had his arm linked through hers. Before she could close the distance and introduce John to Alan, her husband made the first move. He walked over and held his hand out to John. “Hi. I’m Alan.”

“Sir.” John shook his hand, unaware of the drama playing out around him. “Nice to meet you. My name’s John.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Alan wiped at his cheeks and smiled. “I hope I have the chance to see you more often.”

“Yes, sir.” John smiled shyly and then headed over to Nolan. Ellie and Kinzie were already in conversation with him, and John joined in.

And like that, Alan came to her. It was the first time Caroline had seen Alan Tucker since he kicked her out of her own house two days before he and Ellie moved. But that man might as well have been a different one altogether. The man before her exuded a kind humility. His posture and demeanor, the light in his eyes. This was the Alan she had fallen in love with.

Not only that, but his transparent heart shone in his expression so she had no doubt. His letter was absolutely true. He looked broken, no question. Repentant and desperate to make things right. He stopped a few inches from her. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I can’t say it enough.”

“I forgive you.” Her words came slowly, soaked in a lifetime of meaning. “It was my fault, too. I’ll be sorry as long as I live.” She studied him; he still looked young and fit, but more than that, he looked gentle and compassionate. Like he cared about how she felt and what her life had become. “I can’t believe you came.”

“I’ve wanted to see you for years. But I thought you’d refuse me.” His eyes were dry now, more serious. “Like I deserve.”

“You know what I think?” She reached slowly for his hands, her heart full.

He seemed to feel the shock of her touch to his core. As if he’d never expected her to care about him again. His words fell to a whisper. “What do you think, Caroline?”

“I think tonight we’ll leave the past in the past.” She smiled at him. “We’ve all lost enough without looking back.”

He nodded slowly, almost in a daze. Like he was seeing something in her from decades ago. “You have it again.”

“What?”

“Your innocence. Your joy.” His eyes welled up one more time. “I thought I killed it.”

“It isn’t me.” She put her hand over her heart. “It’s Him. God almighty.” She looked around the room at Nolan and Ellie, Kinzie and John. Then she shook her head as she found Alan’s eyes again. “None of us would be standing here if it weren’t for Him.”

“So true.”

“You know what else I think?”

“What?” He looked a little more lighthearted now, if still cautious.

“I think after eleven years . . . I’d like to give my husband a hug.”

And for the first time in far more than eleven years, distance and anger and emptiness didn’t stand between them.

And maybe—if God let the miracle of grace continue—nothing ever would.

N
olan had never let go of her heart.

That was the only way Ellie could explain what had happened since June first. Nolan had won her heart when he was a boy, and he had never once let it go. She understood that now. In the meantime, in the years they’d lost, God had been shaping and growing him into a man who could love her and lead her. A man who was ready to share his whole life with her and Kinzie.

If only she’d known sooner.

Ellie took her place in the fourth row, center court, between Kinzie and her mother. On the other side of her mom was her father, and next to him was John. It would take time for the boy to get to know him, but what Ellie could see so far looked amicable. No telling where God would take her parents.

As if, suddenly, anything was possible for all of them.

If Ellie hadn’t believed in God after the first of June, watching her mom and dad hug in the executive dining room an hour ago was absolute proof. Grace and forgiveness like that weren’t possible in human strength.

The game started, and like old times Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off Nolan. The way he played the game. Even with all the hoopla and packed stands she had to remind herself that she wasn’t back at Savannah High.

They had a plan now, she and Nolan. She had called Tina and given a thirty-day notice, and she had found a salon in Savannah in need of a stylist. Tina had been thrilled for her. “Remind me to ask Kinzie to pray for my Prince Charming.” She had laughed, purely teasing. “No, really, Ellie. I feel like I’m watching the best ending to the best movie ever.”

Ellie smiled now, even in the midst of the frenzied game, remembering how true her friend’s words had felt.

On the court, Nolan hit a jumper from fifteen feet out. Atlanta by two.

“Go, Nolan!” Kinzie jumped to her feet and clapped big. She screamed over the roar of the crowd. “He’s amazing, Mommy!”

“Yes, baby.” Ellie had to yell to be heard. She gave her daughter a thumbs-up. “Very amazing!”

L.A. called a time-out, and Kinzie scurried down the row to talk to John. Her parents were laughing about something, tentative, cautious. But more together than Ellie had seen since she was very young. She let her mind drift again. Tina had offered to box her things and FedEx them to her mom’s apartment. There wasn’t much, really. Clothes and some photo albums. And the box of her mother’s letters. The furniture was all Tina’s except Ellie’s and Kinzie’s beds, which would cost more to move than replace.

In little time, the decision was made. Ellie and Kinzie didn’t ever need to go back to San Diego. They were home. Which was why, since the first of June, Ellie had spent every possible spare moment with Nolan. Not nearly as much time as either of them wanted—but then these were the NBA finals.

And Nolan wanted badly to win.

The Hawks stayed even with the Lakers through the third period, while Kinzie and John cheered at the top of their lungs. Time seemed to fly off the clock, and all at once there were two minutes left, Lakers up by four.
Please, God . . . let him do this. Give him Your strength. You know how much he wants this for his dad.
She smiled. Now that she had found her faith in God again, she was remembering how to pray. How
she could talk to God as a friend. The way she had when she was Kinzie’s age.

Fifteen seconds ran off the clock while L.A. passed the ball, and this time the Hawks called a time-out. Again Ellie prayed for Nolan, for his dream to be fulfilled. But in a much bigger way, they had already won. All of them. She no longer allowed herself to be constantly consumed by how much they’d lost. The years apart. Instead, she found herself grateful for what they’d found. What they’d all found.

Once in a while, she could still hear Nolan’s voice the way it had sounded that summer when they were fifteen. He had the tackle box, and they were about to write their letters, and she had just told him that eleven years seemed like a long time. His eyes had shone in the moonlight. For a single moment she closed her eyes, and she could hear him even now in the deafening arena. They had to write the letters, had to bury them in the tackle box.

Just in case. We’d still have this one chance
.

That was where Ellie kept her mind these days. Not angry about what they’d lost but grateful. Because through the love of Nolan Cook and God Himself, they’d all been given exactly what they needed—one last chance. A smile filled her heart and spread to her face. This much was certain, no matter what happened as the rest of their lives played out. Her heart was healed and whole. And she knew something else as well.

She would never, ever doubt God again.

N
olan could feel the victory; he could taste it.

Not because of his own abilities but because he could sense God’s spirit moving in him as tangibly as he could feel the ball
in his hands. The sounds of the arena, the shouts from the players, the ball against the floor. None of it could touch the quiet in his soul. The peace and certainty there.

One of the Lakers had cussed out the ref and gotten a technical foul with a little over a minute to play. Nolan sank both resulting free throws. Hawks down by two. A turnover at the other end, and this time Nolan spotted Dexter streaking down the floor. His bounce pass landed perfectly in his friend’s hands. Dexter palmed the ball with one hand and crashed it through the net with a dunk that brought the entire arena to its feet.

Time-out Lakers. But nothing could stop the momentum.
Let us shine for You, Lord . . . I don’t want it if it doesn’t glorify You
. They ran down the floor, and Nolan could see the ball with crazy clarity. He stole it from the Lakers’ famous guard and threw it almost full court to Dexter again.

The top of Dexter’s head reached the rim. Another resounding dunk. The crowd exploded, the noise deafening. Atlanta had the lead for the first time in five minutes. The final minute passed in a blur. But in that time, Nolan hit four more free throws. He watched the last seconds fall off the clock, watched it wishing only one thing.

That his father could have seen him win this game.

Maybe he has a way, Lord, a place where he can see this. If so, please . . . could you give him a front-row seat?

The buzzer sounded and Atlanta’s fans went crazy. They were the NBA champions. Nolan pointed up and held his hand that way, peering into the rafters of Philips Arena, looking for a glimpse of heaven.
All for You, God . . . all for You
. In a rush, the players joined at center court and began celebrating, chest-thumping and grabbing each other around their
necks. This was what they had set out to do at the beginning of the season. NBA champs in God’s strength, not their own.

Nolan looked up at Ellie. She was watching him, smiling at him, both fists raised in the air. The way she used to cheer for him back in high school. He waved at her, and fifteen minutes later, when he was awarded the series MVP, Nolan took the microphone and did what he had longed to do since the game ended.

“First, I’d like to thank my Savior for letting me play basketball. I also want to thank my coaches and teammates. I’m nothing without them. And, of course, my family.” His mom and sisters had flown in for the games in L.A., but they couldn’t make it to Atlanta tonight. One of his sisters was graduating from nursing school tomorrow morning.

Nolan’s voice stayed strong. “Thanks also to my second family.” He pointed to where they were seated. Then he paused and held tight to the trophy. His voice filled with passion. “I’m dedicating this game, this series, to two people. My father, a man who was my mentor and friend. My first coach. Dad, I hope you’re watching from heaven.” He paused, struggling, his heart bursting.

“And second . . . I dedicate this to Ellie Anne Tucker.” He smiled up at her, and for a few seconds, they were the only people in the arena. “I told Ellie when we were fifteen that I was going to marry her. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He held the trophy in her direction. “I love you, Ellie.”

He saw her mouth the same words to him from her place in the stands. Nolan could picture the couple from the Dream Foundation—Molly and Ryan Kelly. Somewhere, if they were watching, Ryan had the answer to why he was supposed to go on the road with Peyton Anders this year.

Another miracle.

Nolan stepped back and gave the platform to his coach. When the celebration died down, Ellie and her family joined him on the court, and he whispered close to her, “Now the whole world knows.”

“I love you, Nolan Cook.”

“I love you. That’s all I want to do the rest of my life. Love you.”

When they went to leave that night, for the first time since his father had died, Nolan didn’t take the shot from the left-side three-point line. He didn’t have to. The championship he had promised his father was finally his. Promise fulfilled. Instead, he left the arena the way he hoped he would leave it as long as he played the game.