Mac chuckled and shook the man’s hand. Hopefully, for the last time, he thought.
“Goodbye, Mac Anderson,” Faust said, “be sure to take good care of yourself...” He smiled. “…and your family.” He walked away.
As Mac floated down the courtroom’s granite stairs, he thought back on all that had happened. As tragic as many of the twists and turns had been, he’d learned a few invaluable lessons along his crooked path. Each aspect of life was like a single domino. One of the tricks to keeping everything standing was to make sure that the dominos were spaced far enough apart. This way, if one fell then the rest didn’t have to come tumbling down along with it. It’s amazing, he thought. One single event, no matter how simple and meaningless at the time, can easily trigger a terrible chain reaction—a series of more events that can just as easily tear a life down to its foundation. The theory was simple. If one domino went down, then the best reaction was to concentrate on saving the others. Mac thought about his ancient car accident and shuddered. One twisted moment, all those years ago, spun my entire world out of control. Strangely enough, he still couldn’t recall the morning when he awoke to discover that all his dominoes were lying on the ground. We’re each hanging on by a thread, he decided. Inhaling deeply, he looked up at the baby blue sky. But I’m standing in the sunlight again…Thank God.
Chapter 18
Mac arrived at the Department of Social Services building at 5:30 p.m., a full hour earlier than scheduled. He was excited and nervous at the same time. M.J. Connell, the DSS caseworker assigned to the Anderson case, met him with a smile. Mac had three shoeboxes tucked under his arm.
“Aren’t you a little early, Mr. Anderson?” M.J. commented.
Mac smiled; it was bittersweet. “Actually, I’m nearly a year late,” he said.
M.J. chuckled, rubbing Mac’s arm in a display of compassion. She escorted him into a small conference room. “Why don’t you take a seat and try to relax,” she said. “The men’s room is down the hall on your left and there’s a soda machine right across from it, in case you get thirsty.”
Although Mac nodded, his focus was hardly on the kind woman; he was scanning the hall for his children. Rubbing his leaky palms on his pants, he took a few deep breaths.
Laughing again. M.J. kept her hand on his arm for a long moment. “Hey, don’t look so serious. You’re going to do fine.” She nodded. “Try to get comfortable. When your children arrive, I’ll bring them right in. Fair enough?”
“Better than fair,” he said. “Thank you.”
The woman glanced down at the three boxes. “New sneakers for the kids?” she asked.
“No, just three pairs of shoes the kids never saw me wear,” he said, offering no further explanation.
M.J.’s forehead creased. Mac opened one of the boxes. She peeked in, her forehead wrinkling more. She looked up at him for a second and then back into the boxes. Suddenly, she gasped for breath, while her eyes filled with tears.
He smiled. I just hope the kids have the same reaction, he thought, placing the boxes under the conference table.
M.J. patted his arm one last time. “You’re going to do better than fine, Mr. Anderson,” she said. “You’re going to do great.” She left, wiping her eyes and nodding as she went.
Mac sat alone—again. He spent the long minutes glancing at his watch, pacing the floor and sticking his head out the door to check the hallway. After a dozen or so cycles of this, he walked to the window and looked out again. Where are my children? he thought, a pang of nausea slapping the interior wall of his stomach. What if… he was just starting to think when he spun on his heels and caught the sight of Jillian, Bella and Brady standing in the doorway. He nearly dropped to his knees. Oh my God! He started toward them, spreading his arms wide for some long-awaited hugs.
The kids, however, looked frightened—and never budged.
“Jillian, Bella…Brady,” Mac said softly, “my God, have I missed you guys. Come give Dad a hug.”
Sluggishly, the kids started for him, clearly more afraid than excited.
Jillian was the first to offer a pathetic half-hug.
“Hi slugger, how have you been?” Mac asked.
Jillian didn’t respond, avoiding all eye contact.
“Jillian, I…”
“I’m here for them,” the teenager snapped, gesturing toward her younger siblings. “Not for you.”
Swallowing hard, Mac looked toward his younger children.
Bella took a half-step toward him before she stopped, choosing to stand firmly beside her older sister.
“Oh, princess,” Mac said, reaching out for her, “has Dad ever missed…”
Bella’s nervous smile quickly turned into sorrowful tears, halting Mac from embracing her.
Brady stood with M.J., half of his body concealed behind her leg.
M.J. bent down to address the small boy. “Brady, aren’t you going to give your dad a hug?”
The small boy began to hyperventilate until the real bawling began.
“Okay guys,” M.J. said, standing erect and gently facilitating the tense reunion, “it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, so why don’t you all take a seat at the table and try to relax.”
Panic—Mac’s old nemesis—struck his heart. At their young ages, he considered, maybe too much time has passed? He could feel the great distance that now separated them. He could also feel the weight of all the months they’d lost. What a waste, he thought. For a second, he didn’t know what to say. Jillian and Bella were staring at him like he was an apparition from the past and an unfriendly ghost at that. Mac wiped his eyes and took a seat at the table. He gestured for his children to do the same. “Let’s just sit and talk,” he said.
Reluctantly, each one sat. M.J. remained in the doorway, watching on.
Mac took a deep breath. “Guys,” he began, “I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”
“You left us,” Jillian roared, quickly speaking for them all. “We needed you and you left us!” The tears were clearly blinding her from trying to stare her father down.
Mac shook his head, fighting off the impulse to break down and sob. Although his carefully chosen words were garbled with emotion, he explained, “No Jillian, I never left you. This past year, I know there have been times when you needed me and I wasn’t there, but…” He paused, struggling to speak. “…but I swear, I never left you.”
All three children began weeping—tears of resentment, longing, sorrow, confusion and anger pouring from their eyes.
Mac took another deep breath, reached beneath the table and revealed three shoeboxes. On the top of each box, in big bold letters, were the names JILLIAN, BELLA, BRADY. He slid each box to its rightful owner. “Here,” he said, “I’m praying this helps you to understand.”
The kids looked at each other, confused.
“No guys,” he repeated in a whispered cry, “I never left you.”
Jillian was the first to crack the lid on her box. Her eyes went wide. She reached in and pulled out a giant pile of letters bound by an elastic band. She looked around and found Bella and Brady holding the same sized pile. Jillian began fanning through her pile, taking note of the different dates. She looked at her siblings again, and then at her father.
Before she could inquire for them all, Mac explained, “Once I got to the hospital to get well, I wrote you guys every day. At first, I sent them to the house, but when you never wrote back I realized Mom wasn’t letting you read them.”
“Mom kept your letters from us?” Bella asked angrily.
“No honey, it wasn’t like that. Believe me, I was angry at first too. But then I realized that Mom was doing the only thing she could do at the time—and that was to protect you guys. She didn’t know when I’d come back…if I’d ever come back.” His eyes leaked. “Your mom didn’t know that I was fighting to get
well…that I was fighting with everything inside of me to get back to the three children I love.”
Still entrenched in bitterness, Jillian pulled a bruised softball from the box and looked at it, confused.
Again, before she could utter a word, Mac explained, “This past season, first game in, you guys played the Tigers.”
The teenage girl swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
“In the first inning, you cracked the sweetest double I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said. “It hopped the fence and rolled into the woods.”
“Yeah, I remember,” she said, “the umpire stopped the game, but no one ever found the ball.”
Mac’s eyes filled to the point that he couldn’t see. “There was no way they could have, Jill,” he whimpered, nodding, “because I caught it.”
Jillian’s body began to convulse. Obviously trying to remain strong, she dove back into her box, only to pull out wrapped gifts and cards; it was everything she believed her father had missed. The entire box was filled with her dad’s love.
Bella removed two photos from her shoebox. “These are from my dance recital,” she said. “I remember a man taking these, but he…”
“…was wearing a funny looking hat and moustache?” Mac asked.
She nodded. “Oh, Daddy,” she whimpered.
“You smiled right at me, princess,” Mac said, “and you never looked so beautiful.”
Brady held up one of the treasures from his shoebox. He looked at his father.
Laughing, Mac told him, “That’s the program from your Spelling Bee, Brady.”
“You were there, Dad?” the boy asked.
“Of course I was, son. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He grinned through the tears. “And I also learned that you’ve been eating too many artificial snacks since I’ve been away.” He laughed, spelling, “C.H.E.E.Z.E.?”
Everyone laughed, especially Brady. He looked at his sisters. “Dad saw me too,” the boy squealed.
“And I was never so proud of you,” Mac added, beaming. “There’s nothing wrong with second place, Brady. I could tell that you studied hard to get there.”
From each of their boxes, the three kids retrieved items and began calling them out, excitedly—talking over each other.
“My report card…” Jillian said.
“Christmas presents?” Bella said.
Brady nodded. “And Easter candy!”
“More letters,” Bella yelled.
“And pictures of me,” Brady yelled back.
“And a birthday card,” Jillian concluded, choked up. Each box was a complete account of the last year of their lives. Jillian stood and approached her emotional father. “Oh Dad, I love you so much,” she said.
Mac grabbed his eldest girl, pulling her to him. He hugged Jillian tight, allowing her the opportunity to let out all the pain. The last thing I wanted was for my girl to sprint past her childhood, he thought.
Jillian bawled like a baby.
“I’m so proud of you, Jill,” Mac whispered. “You helped Mom take good care of our family while I was away. But it’s time for you to be a kid again, okay?”
She nodded, unable to respond through the sniffles.
Mac looked at them all. “I’m not sick anymore, guys. Dad’s back and I’m never going away again.”
Bella and Brady followed Jillian’s lead and swarmed upon their father, smothering him in hugs and kisses.
Mac cried openly with his children, weeping the same way he had on the days that each of them were born. He sobbed hard for the time they’d lost, as well as the opportunity they now had to start over. “Nope, I never left you guys,” he whimpered. “I was always with you. Always…” He slapped his chest and inhaled deeply. “…because you live right in here.”
The kids all slapped their chests before smothering their beloved father in more hugs and kisses.
Brady saluted. “Aye Captain, right in here.” He slapped his chest again.
Laughing and crying joyfully, they returned to their unbreakable huddle.
⧝
It was early autumn. Mac and his three children were adrift on the lake. There were no other boats on the water. Everyone was beaming with smiles. Life was good again, nearly returned to the way it had been a year before. Even Brady was wearing his tightly-fitted sailor’s hat.
Jillian cleared her throat. “Dad,” she said, “we got you something. A welcome home gift.”
Mac smiled.
Jillian turned toward her little brother. “Go ahead, Brady, give it to him.”
The young boy reached into his pocket, retrieved an old dirty bottle cap and handed to his father.
It’s the treasure we buried at the park, he realized, his eyes swelling with love. He lifted the bottle cap and peered into the eyes of all three children. “Thank you, guys. I’ll keep this good luck charm with me forever.”
Each of them beamed.
“Maybe it’ll help you on your big date,” Bella teased, making her sister and brother giggle.
“You guys are too much,” Mac said, joining in the laughter. “I’ve already told you, we’re only going out to dinner.”
“Sure, Dad,” Jillian teased.
“Yeah, sure,” Brady echoed.
Bella jumped in. “I don’t know, Dad. Mom bought a new dress and she’s been starving herself for two weeks to fit into it.”
“She has?” Mac asked, blushing.
The kids picked up on it. “Ooooh…” they sang in chorus.
Mac tried to return to seriousness. “Guys, don’t get your hopes up. A lot’s happened between your mom and me.” He half-shrugged. “I’m not sure…”
“But a lot more good things happened before you got sick, right?” Jillian quickly interrupted.
“Geez, I don’t know,” Mac said, at a loss.
“Come on, Dad, where’s your faith?” Bella asked.
Instantly, Mac’s breathing turned shallow, as his mind returned back to Presbyterian Hospital.
⧝
“Mr. Anderson?” Dr. Fiore said, waiting for Mac to return to reality.
“Huh? What?” Mac said. “Oh yeah, I’m sorry.”
The doctor smiled. “Looks like you were quite a ways from here. Where’d you go?”
“To where my kids are…or were anyway.”
The doctor picked up on the melancholy. “Can’t wait to get back to them, right?”
“I wish,” Mac said, sadly. “The judge took them from me and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able…”
“Whoa there,” Dr. Fiore said, cutting him off, “where’s your faith?”
“Faith?”
“Yeah, faith. You don’t honestly think this is the end of the line for you, do you?” He shook his head. “Oh no, this is just another starting point, Mr. Anderson—that’s all.” He nodded. “You’ll be with your kids again. Just by the look in your eyes, I can guarantee it.”
“You must know something I don’t, doc,” Mac said gratefully, “but I hope you’re right.”
“Sure, I’m right,” the man confirmed, smiling. “Besides, how can anyone take something from you when it lives right in here?” Dr. Fiore slapped his chest.
⧝
Mac looked up to find his three beautiful children grinning at him. Jillian patted him on the back, pointed to Bella, Brady and herself and said, “Yeah Dad, if we can start over, who says it can’t happen for you and Mom?”
Mac offered each of them a hug. His children had witnessed his return from the ashes, along with the countless hours it took to make that happen. What many people would see as impossible, they could now see as possible, even probable. At least Jen and I never fought apathy or indifference, he thought, grinning. The passion has always been there. He also knew he could only reclaim true happiness through forgiveness—by choosing l
ove over hate, peace over war.
All three kids awaited his reply.
“Nobody says, that’s who,” Mac said. “I suppose we’ve all learned that anything’s possible, right?”
Brady saluted. “Aye Captain, anything.” The young boy slapped his chest, causing the rest of them to do the same.
While Mac sat amazed at the many spiritual signs, his eyes swelled with love. “I love you three more than anything in the world,” he vowed.
“We love you too,” Jillian said.
As he struggled to regain his composure, he stood and began working the main sail.
“I hope you’re going to bring Mom flowers for your date?” Bella said.
Mac grinned. “I’ve been thinking about giving her a book mark instead,” he said.
The kids looked confused.
Mac allowed it. “Have you guys ever heard of a place called Gooseberry Island?” he asked.
All three children shook their heads. “No, Dad.”
Mac smiled. “Then let’s sail over there and discover it together.”
He and his children laughed well past the setting sun. Ours is a love that can never be destroyed, he thought, and with enough hard work, dreams really can come true.
Acknowledgments
First and forever, Jesus Christ- my Lord and Savior. With Him, all things are possible.
To Paula, my beautiful wife, for loving me and being the amazing woman she is.
To my children—Evan, Jacob, Isabella and Carissa—for inspiring me.
To Mom, Dad, Billy, Julie, Caroline, Caleb, Randy, Kathy, Philip, Darlene, Jeremy, Baker, Aurora, Jenn, Jason, Jack, the DeSousas—my beloved family and foundation on which I stand.
To Sue Nedar and Roland Dube for helping me breathe souls into these characters. It was the thrill of a lifetime to see these characters come to life on stage. And to the amazing cast, who played the original roles, your gift was priceless and will never be forgotten.
To Lou Aronica, my mentor and friend, for helping me to share this story with the world.
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