Second Chance Father

by Renee Andrews

  “Sure.” He nodded at his friend. “It was good to see you, Vincent. Sorry I couldn’t give you the answer you wanted.”

  “So all of the ten percenters, the ones you always cared about more than any other director in the industry, you’re okay with that many people losing a year’s pay?”

  “I’ve got to go film these kids,” Jack bit out, walking away.

  Elise exited the garage with Naomi on her hip. “She’s got to use the bathroom. Can she use yours inside?”

  In spite of his frustrations from the visit with Vincent, Jack managed a gentle smile for the little girl. “Sure, Naomi.”

  She grinned back, and then Elise continued past him and Vincent, while Jack tried not to think about how many people he’d be disappointing and focused on filming Cody and his friends.

  Chapter Nine

  Elise held the cabin door open for Naomi, who darted out and then practically ran down the front steps. “Be careful.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Naomi waved as she ran past the man leaning against the black car. “Hey, Mr. Jack’s friend.”

  He smiled, a nice, pleasant smile. “Hey to you.”

  Naomi rushed into the garage, while Elise also greeted the fellow who didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. “Hello.”

  “Hello.” He chanced a glance to the garage, where Elise could see Jack behind the camera shooting the boys as they took turns in the driver’s seat, and as Naomi climbed into the backseat. “It’s Elise, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t see any reason she shouldn’t talk to the man. Jack had wanted to speak to him in private, but he hadn’t acted as though the guy was any sort of threat. In fact, she suspected they were friends. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  He nodded. “So, I see Jack’s filming again here, even if it is on a lower scale than what he’s used to.”

  Elise wasn’t sure what to say, but she knew Jack wouldn’t want this man broadcasting his career to everyone around town. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who knows what Jack did before. He’s keeping it low-key.”

  The man slid two fingers across his forehead and tilted the gray cap away from his face. “But you know that he’s Jack Simon. You know what he did—what he does for a living. You know how important he is to the industry, particularly when it involves films of faith.”

  Elise nodded. “I do.”

  He slid his lower lip to the side as though debating how much to say. And Elise wondered whether Jack would be okay with her hearing it.

  “I should probably head into the garage too.” She smiled politely and started to leave.

  “A lot of people are going to be really hurting if he doesn’t show up for his press junket. Did he tell you that? In all honesty, I’m okay without a year’s pay, but the other ten percenters...well, I’d say they’ll have a blue Christmas unless Jack shows up for that screening the day after Thanksgiving. And every other scheduled appearance.”

  She didn’t understand, but the thought of people hurting at Christmas bothered her, especially if it was for something that Jack still had time to correct. “What is a ten percenter?”

  “Folks like me, his agent, and all of the director’s team, as they say. We’re called that because we get ten percent of a director’s earnings on a project. So if he forfeits his pay, we don’t get paid. Or, in this case, if he is in breach of contract, we don’t get paid.”

  “Breach of contract?” Elise wasn’t familiar with any of this.

  “As the director of the film, he’s contractually required to attend all activities on the film’s press junket. His first event is the screening on the day after Thanksgiving. Then he has several more scheduled before Christmas Day, when the film is set to release. Unless they postpone it again, since Jack isn’t on board.”

  “And if he doesn’t attend?” She wanted to make sure she understood correctly.

  “Roland Mooreland, the studio exec, already has the papers in the attorney’s hands. If Jack doesn’t show up, we won’t get paid.” He sighed heavily, looked toward the garage, where Jack had moved to the front of the car to film under the hood. “This isn’t merely about getting paid. He’s the best I’ve ever seen at bringing God to the big screen, and I don’t know how long it’ll take for another director to learn how to do that anywhere near as well as Jack. He’s got a gift.”

  “I agree. His movies mean a lot to everyone. They’ve...meant a lot to me.”

  He knuckled his hat and nodded in agreement. “His heart and his faith—or at least the faith he used to have—are conveyed right there, on-screen, for the world to see. God has used Jack in a big way, and to see him turn his back on the Lord, or blame Him for what happened...” His jaw twitched, and Elise wondered if he fought tears. “We just don’t need to lose a man like Jack in the industry.”

  “And if he doesn’t do the press junket things?”

  “He’ll never work in LA again. And the Christian film industry will take such a hit, it might as well be nonexistent. Jack Simon is the faith director. Without him, there’s really nothing else out there that glorifies God.”

  The hood of the Mustang snapped closed, and Jack suddenly peered directly at them.

  “Looks like I’ve been caught,” Vincent said, tipping his hat to his friend. “Listen, Elise, if there’s anything you can do to help me out, let me know. We need him at that screening. And we need him at everything else too.” He handed her his business card.

  Elise slid the card into her jeans pocket. “I don’t think I’ll do any good, but I’ll try.”

  “Can’t ask for more than that, I suppose. Unless you’ll pray too.” He winked, and Elise found herself smiling.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll do plenty of that.”

  “Kind of suspected you would.” He turned to leave but then noticed that Jack had been summoned by the kids to look at something in the car. “Elise?”

  “Yes?”

  “Where are all of these kids from?”

  “Willow’s Haven. It’s a children’s home a short distance away, down that path.” She motioned to the trail. “Jack is making a video that we’re going to use at area churches to try to find foster homes and adoptive families for the kids.”

  “Jack’s going to church again?” He didn’t disguise his surprise.

  “Oh, no, he isn’t,” she clarified. “And I’ll be honest, I kind of guilted him into it. He’s grown very close to one of the boys, Cody, and I told him this would be Cody’s best shot at getting a family. I didn’t lie. I do think it is.”

  Vincent grinned. “I believe you. And you know what else?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m fairly certain that God isn’t done with Jack Simon yet.”

  Elise watched him climb in his car and drive away, giving her another tip of his hat before heading down the gravel drive. Then she turned to see Jack kneeling near the front of the Mustang. They’d lifted the hood once more, and he had his camera tilted up to capture something she couldn’t see on the other side. He must have liked what he saw, because she could tell that he smiled as he filmed.

  Several of the kids were sitting inside the car when she walked past to see what held Jack’s attention.

  It was Cody, holding Naomi.

  “And what’s that?” She pointed to something under the hood.

  “That’s the alternator.”

  “What’s that?” She pointed to something else.

  “That’s the water pump.”

  The tiny girl must have thought “water pump” was something funny, because she started a belly giggle that made Cody laugh too. Then he tweaked Naomi’s nose, and she leaned her forehead to touch his, then laughed some more.

  “Oh, my. They are so beautiful together.”

  Jack finished catching the shot, then stood b
eside her. “I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t want to adopt them, do you? And look at Cody...he’ll be an amazing big brother.” His words were filled with gruff tenderness.

  She nodded, dreading the moment that she had to tell them goodbye. “Thank you for making the video, Jack. I know that will help so many of these kids, including those two.”

  “That’s what we want, right?” He said the words, but he sounded as though he might be thinking the same thing as Elise, that it would be very sad to have days that didn’t include these kids.

  “Elise?” Savvy’s voice called from outside the garage. “You in there?”

  Glad for the diversion, Elise started out. She didn’t want to think about leaving after that IEP meeting tomorrow. Didn’t want to think about leaving Cody. Or Jack. “Yes?”

  “Hey, I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.” Savvy grinned. “Did you leave your phone in your cabin?”

  Elise couldn’t remember where she had it last, and then she recalled sitting it on the counter in Jack’s house when she’d taken Naomi to the bathroom. “I left it inside.” She pointed to his cabin. “Did you need me?”

  “I just wanted to let the kids know that the Cutter Dude Ranch has the horses ready for one last ride before winter and invited all of the Willow’s Haven kids to come today. We’ve got a bus on the way to pick them up.”

  The boys and Naomi exited the garage in a rush.

  “We’re going to ride horses?” Naomi clapped her hands together. “Really?”

  Savvy laughed. “Really, but you need to get to Willow’s Haven and grab a jacket. It’ll probably be dark before we get back, and when it gets dark, it gets cold.”

  “Come on, let’s go get jackets and ride horses!” Cody rounded up the troop and led the way.

  “You want to come too, Elise? You can if you want.” Savvy laughed as Cody stretched out a hand for a high five as he passed.

  “Will you come ride horses too, Miss Elise?” Naomi asked, her sweet smile almost making Elise want to go.

  But this might be her last full day at Willow’s Haven. And her final chance to talk to Jack.

  “I don’t think so,” she said, more to Naomi than to Savvy, “but I’ll see you when you get back, okay?”

  “Would you read me a bedtime story?”

  “I would love to.” Elise enjoyed spending time with the little girl. Of course, all of the adults at Willow’s Haven enjoyed spending time with Naomi. She was so animated and happy. Every counselor, at one time or another, had read a bedtime story or two to the child.

  Obviously delighted with Elise’s response, Naomi ran toward her, arms wide, and Elise, used to this reaction, crouched down and accepted the heart-melting hug.

  “I love you, Miss Elise. Big as the sky, to the moon and back.”

  Did any words ever sound sweeter? Elise swallowed, glad that she’d get to have at least one more of these hugs tonight, after that bedtime story. “I love you too.”

  Naomi released her, then ran toward Savvy. “Okay, let’s go ride horses, Miss Savvy.”

  “Let’s go.” Savvy took her hand. “I’ll see you tonight, Elise.”

  “See you tonight.” She waited for them to start down the trail and then turned toward the man now standing on the porch. He wore a flannel shirt rolled up at the elbows, similar to the one he had on the first day she’d seen him when he’d sported that horrid beard. Odd, how the flannel shirt seemed to suit him in either capacity, rugged and bearded or clean shaven.

  Always heart-stopping.

  Would she ever meet another guy who made her feel as much as she felt toward Jack? Would she ever meet one so complicated, tormented, impossibly stubborn?

  Exactly the type of guy she shouldn’t want to meet.

  But Jack was so much more than that. He was also a man whose faith had been challenged and needed to be made whole again. His heart had been broken and needed to heal. His trust had been tested, not his trust in man, but his trust in God.

  Elise was certain she’d witnessed the “old Jack” over the past few days, as he interacted with Cody and the other children. He’d been at home behind the camera, and she’d witnessed him laughing on more than one occasion. She’d also seen him cry once, or she’d thought she saw a tear slide down his cheek when he filmed the kids having the afternoon devotional yesterday at the fire pit.

  That Jack didn’t need to fade away into oblivion. Like Vincent said, God wasn’t finished with him yet. He’d sounded so sure.

  And Elise was too. But how could she convince him to have true faith and trust God again in spite of the past pain?

  He didn’t waste time asking what he wanted. As soon as she approached his side, he asked, “So, what did Vincent say?”

  * * *

  Jack had known when Vincent didn’t readily leave that his friend/agent had a plan. It’d taken only one look at him talking to Elise to see what that had to be.

  Vincent wanted to use Elise to get Jack to change his mind. He’d done that with Laney a few times too, but Jack was always onto him. So was Laney, for that matter. They’d often laugh and joke about Vincent’s conniving, especially when he wanted to come along on a particular shoot. And they didn’t blame him; he wanted a free vacation. Most folks did. Plus, they liked Vincent, so they typically let him have his way.

  But this time, Jack wouldn’t budge. And the quicker Vincent—and Elise—realized it, the better.

  “Elise,” he repeated brusquely, “what did he say?”

  She filled him in on her conversation with Vincent, emphasizing what she learned about the ten percenters not getting paid if Jack didn’t follow through.

  Amazing, how much she’d learned in one short conversation. “Okay.”

  “Is that true, that they won’t get paid?” Her brow knitted and that beautiful mouth turned down at the corners.

  Jack wished he’d never kissed her, because it only reminded him of what he’d never do again.

  “Jack, is it?” she repeated.

  “Yes. It’s true.”

  “How can you do that to those people? If you don’t follow through with your end of the deal, they don’t get paid. And really, that’s not even the big picture, is it? This isn’t about the money. It’s about you, turning your back on your talent.”

  “I filmed the kids for you,” he reminded her, trying to keep the bite out of his voice. “So I haven’t turned my back on it completely, now have I? They’ll have a Christmas appeal video that will be guaranteed to show people everything these kids have to offer and why they’d be crazy not to adopt them.” In fact, although he’d never admit it, Jack had been moved to tears filming those precious kids. “They simply need someone to love them.”

  They’d been standing a few feet from the porch, and Elise moved to sit on the middle step, and then she put her elbows on her knees, clasped her fingers and bowed her head.

  Jack didn’t know if she were praying, crying or both. He took a deep breath, let it out and then sat beside her. She’d be leaving tomorrow. He’d made it this long without getting too close. He should tell her to go to Willow’s Haven, then to Birmingham and then to have a nice life. Away from here.

  Away from him.

  In his head, he planned to say, “You should probably go,” but then his traitorous mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Elise, what’s wrong?”

  She looked up, and her eyes were swimming with unshed tears. “You, Jack. Vincent wants you to promote the movie. I do too. But it really isn’t about the money. It’s about your faith, and the fact that you didn’t trust in it to guide you through the tough times.”

  “I lost my family. While they were on the way to a film that I clearly made for God. I’d call that more than tough times.”

  “That film, The Journey, do you know how
many people you touched with that movie? And do you even remember the story? I mean, you directed it, right? Produced it? Whatever.”

  “I remember the story.” How could he forget?

  “Do you?” she questioned. “Because I do. And I’ll tell you what I remember. I remember a movie where the opening scene had a man ready to end his life. He stood there, glaring at the light of an oncoming train. Then the light filled the screen, blinding the audience, until finally...we saw the moment his baby girl was born. We saw him hold her for the first time...at the moment his wife took her last breath.”

  Jack’s throat clenched tight. He’d shot that scene countless times, until he’d clearly captured the pain in that new father’s face.

  “Then we watched that same man lose his job, fight to keep his daughter when his in-laws wanted to take her away forever. And then he lost her. Lost custody. Lost a connection. And he’d turned to alcohol. And drugs. The man so alive and excited and overjoyed with the birth of his newborn daughter...lost it all.”

  She depicted the storyline with the same depth of feeling that Jack had intended upon filming.

  “And then, after we followed him through one tragedy after another, you brought him back to that white light, to the oncoming train. Until, at the very last second—” she paused, looked at him with her eyes still glistening “—what happened, Jack?”

  “His daughter saved him.” Even as he said the words, he knew they didn’t ring true. And so did she.

  “Who saved him, Jack?” she asked. “Who really saved him? Because it wasn’t her, was it? He thought about her then, visualized her growing up and getting married and having a baby of her own. And then he saw her searching to find him and the two of them reuniting. And he felt love. Forgiveness, when he forgave his wife’s family. And peace.”

  She swallowed, touched his face. “Who saved him, Jack?”

  “God did.”

  Her head moved in a slight nod. “You portrayed that so beautifully, how we can lose everything and still know that God cares, still let Him keep us safe from the storm.”

  She was right; he’d portrayed that on-screen. But directing a film about a man who lost it all was one thing. Losing everything he loved in the world was something else entirely. And Jack knew God had the power to do all things. He had the power to keep that plane in the air.