God Bless the Broken Road

by Jennifer Dornbush

  “I can’t thank you enough.” Patti’s quiet words are few as fears feed on her imagination. Officer Brice makes the turn from downtown onto County Road 40, heading south out of Clarksville. He puts on his emergency strobes but keeps the siren silent. The whoop-whoosh of the wiper blades clearing the misty windshield fills the space between them. Within half a minute they are coasting at twenty-five miles per hour along the forested landscape just outside of the city. The pulsing blue-and-red glow of the strobes cast a spooky glow on the wooded area. Patti can’t imagine her little girl out here. Alone. Unprotected. She rolls down the window for a little fresh air. The cool night air somehow makes her feel like Bree is within reach.

  They travel for another mile. A truck speeds up behind them and then comes to a crawl behind the trawling squad car. Officer Brice waves it by, and soon the road is void of traffic again. Patti tilts her head slightly toward the open window, eyes on the pavement ahead, seeking out any sign of her granddaughter.

  The oncoming headlights of an SUV crest a small hill and dim as they pass. Patti’s eyes adjust to the darkness again and catch a flicker of movement.

  “What’s that?” She points up ahead as the squad car’s headlamps start to envelop something bumping along the shoulder.

  Straining his gaze, Brice sees it, too. He lets his foot off the gas and creeps the car along the shoulder until it comes to a stop.

  Patti can now make out the pink camo go-kart chugging over the pitted ground. “It’s her! It’s Bree!”

  “Will you look at that?” Patti detects relief in Brice’s voice. He presses a button once, and the siren makes a double warning chirp. Up ahead, the kart slows.

  “Bree! Bree!” Patti hangs her head out the window. “Stop!”

  “Ms. Patti. Please. Can you keep your head inside, please?”

  Patti unlatches her seat belt and reaches for the door handle.

  Officer Brice places a gentle grip on her arm. “Ms. Patti, I know you want to go to her. But I need you to stay in the car. Police protocol. Okay?”

  Patti nods, but she looks unsure as she takes her hand off the door handle. It’s the hardest thing she’s had to do all night.

  “You’ll have her in your arms soon enough.”

  Patti watches Officer Brice exit the car with his hefty Maglite. He illuminates a wide path along the shoulder to the kart. Patti can clearly see their interactions. She leans her head out the window so she can get every word.

  “Hello, miss. I’m Officer Brice from Clarksville. How are you tonight?”

  Bree’s inquisitive face peers out from the kart, squinting back at the officer. Patti exhales in relief. “Are you Breeanne Hill?” Officer Brice asks with a solemn look.

  “Yes,” Bree answers.

  “License and registration, please.”

  “I don’t have those things,” says Bree, making Patti want to giggle. “How fast was I going?”

  “Well, miss, I’m afraid this vehicle isn’t licensed for the road. I’m gonna have to ask you to come with me.”

  “Are you gonna take me home?” Bree’s face crinkles at him.

  “Your mom would sure like that.” Officer Brice plays diplomat.

  Patti is eager for her response, hoping it won’t cause trouble.

  Bree thinks about it for a second. “In that police car?”

  “Yes. Have you ever ridden in one before?”

  Bree shakes her head.

  “Well, it’s a lot of fun. You don’t wanna miss this opportunity.”

  Good angle, Brice. That’ll reel her in.

  “What about my kart?”

  “Not to worry. I’ll put it in the trunk.”

  Bree relents, and Officer Brice helps her out of the kart. He directs her to the squad car, and as Bree approaches, she sees Patti in the passenger’s seat.

  “Grandma?”

  Patti leaps from the car and grabs Bree in her arms. “Bree! My peanut! We were worried sick about you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” Patti can’t let go as she smothers Bree in affection. “Don’t ever do that again, okay?”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “No. No, honey. Not at all. You just gave us quite a scare.”

  Brice rolls up, pushing the kart. “Ladies, shall we?” He opens the back door for them.

  As Brice secures the kart in the trunk, Patti and Bree slide into the backseat together. Patti sends out a quick text and a tweet. We have Bree! Safe and sound.

  * * *

  THEY PULL INTO the church parking lot to find Amber, Karena, and Bridgette helming the waiting search party, which has returned to greet them.

  “All these people were looking for me?” Bree asks Patti with a stunned look.

  “Yes, peanut. Everyone loves you a whole lot.”

  Patti opens the door for Bree and Amber scoops Bree into a big hug as she floods with emotions. “Bree! Oh, baby!”

  Patti climbs out of the car and gives Amber her moment. Joe and Cody help Officer Brice unload the kart. Patti gives Officer Brice a warm squeeze on the arm.

  “Thank you so much. Tell Angela I have a special MyWay gift coming for her and the girls. And you can expect a healthy donation to the police fund from me this week.”

  “I’ll do that. And thank you in advance, Ms. Hill.” Officer Brice starts for the door when Amber rushes to his side.

  “Thank you, Officer. Thank you so much.” She gives him a hug. “Bree, what do you say?”

  “Thank you, Officer Brice.”

  “You’re welcome. You’re a good little driver, Bree. But let’s keep that thing off the highway for now, okay?” Bree nods emphatically. “Get home safely, everyone. And have a good night.”

  The crowd murmurs their thanks and farewells as Officer Brice takes off. Amber pulls Bree aside from the crowd.

  “Bree, please don’t ever, ever, ever do that again. I was worried to death. Promise me. Okay? Promise me?”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. I was just very, very, very scared that I had lost you. And I can’t lose you, do you understand?”

  Bree nods slightly as Patti jostles in from behind and takes another turn at a hug. “We’re just glad you’re safe.” Patti catches Amber’s resentful stare.

  “Okay, Bree, it’s been a long night. Let’s head home.”

  Bree unfurls from Patti’s hug. She stands there, expressionless. Thinking.

  “Everything okay?” Patti asks.

  Bree shakes her head.

  “Do you feel sick?”

  “No,” she whispers.

  “Are you hungry?” Amber asks. “You must be starved.” Bree looks up at her mother with hollow eyes. “I’ll make you whatever you want once we get home. Come on.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?” says Amber. “No, you aren’t hungry?”

  “No, I want to go with Grandma.” Bree’s voice grows louder. Patti steps closer to Bree. What did she just say? She glances over and sees Karena and Bridgette and a few searchers turn their heads.

  “Honey, you’re not staying with Grandma,” Amber insists.

  “I want to live with her.” Bree nudges closer to Patti.

  Patti lights up at the thought. This is what she’s been trying for. Hoping for. For Amber’s own good. She seizes the moment.

  “Amber, we’re all on our last emotional nerve. Maybe it would be best for her to stay with me. A least for a little while.”

  “No, Patti. My daughter is coming home with me. End of story.”

  Patti braces. She knows enough to expect a fight. It would be hard to accept a daughter’s rejection. But now that Bree has opened Pandora’s box, she won’t back down. “Amber. Consider this the gift of some well-deserved time alone to get your house in order.”

  “A gift? How dare you?” Patti glances at the crowd, their attention drawn to Amber’s insistent tone. “Breeanne Hill, you’re coming home with me!”

  “No, I’m not going
with you!”

  Amber reaches over and grabs Bree’s coat, but Bree slips away and darts behind Patti. Patti instinctively protects her.

  “Amber, hey, what are you doing?” says Bridgette, stepping up and then quickly withering under Amber’s daggered look.

  Patti knows she’s stepped into dangerous territory, but she’s not going to back down when it comes to Bree’s well-being. She nods to Karena for help.

  “I think it’s best if everyone takes a deep breath,” says Karena, slipping from the tent to Amber’s side. She takes Amber by the arm and gently draws her away from Patti. Amber squirms.

  “Bree. What are you doing? Why are you running from me?”

  Patti blocks Bree from Amber’s view. “Go get in the car, Bree.”

  Patti sees the stung look in Amber’s face as she watches Bree run toward Patti’s car. She feels a twitch of pain for her daughter-in-law. But enough is enough. She is saving Amber from herself. And although it’s an ugly moment, it’s the right thing to do.

  Amber tries to pursue her daughter, but Patti intervenes, blocking her path to Bree.

  “I’m not gonna force you, Bree. Please. Come home with me. Bree? Did you hear me?”

  No answer. Bree opens the car door and hops inside, slamming the door behind her.

  “She’s in good hands, Amber. You know that. Please, take all the time you need,” Patti says, trying to convince Amber. “She’ll come around.”

  “Amber, let her go,” says Bridgette, coming up from behind.

  “So, you’re both on her side?” Amber says bitterly.

  “Go home and get some rest,” says Karena. “You’ll see things differently in the morning.”

  Patti takes this as her cue and gets in her car. She can hear Amber’s weeping even over the sound of the engine.

  In the beam of her headlights Patti notices the rain picking up again. She pulls out of the parking lot, glimpsing Amber leaning into her van, wet hair matted to her head, jacket soaked, devastated as her daughter drives out of view.

  She glances over at Bree. Her head is resting against the leather seat and turned away from her mother’s view. As hard as this is, this is exactly what Darren would want. She knows it.

  “I’m sorry I made you worry.” Bree’s thin voice breaks into Patti’s thoughts.

  “I know you are. It’s okay now.”

  They head through the dark streets of Clarksville.

  “Do you have ice cream?”

  “I do, peanut. I do.”

  “Cookie dough?”

  “Yes. And chocolate chip.”

  Of course, if Darren were here, none of this would be happening.

  chapter sixty

  On Her Knees

  AS PATTI’S TAILLIGHTS vanish down the street, Amber’s misery morphs into anger. She rips herself from Karena and Bridgette and throws herself into her van.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” pleads Bridgette. “I can take you home.”

  “I’m fine.” She slams the door and peels out on the wet parking lot pavement. She knows everyone is still staring at her. And they’re probably talking about her, too. She has lost her daughter publicly and made an utter fool of herself in front of at least two dozen church members and friends. The labels fly around in her brain. Unfit parent. Widowed wreck. Pathetic waitress. Lost soul.

  After a few minutes, she finds herself in the middle of town. Thankfully, no cars are around as she blows through the flashing yellow stoplight. She keeps driving. Eyes traveling with the faded white line that keeps her inside the lane. She hits the edge of town, which leads away from everything familiar.

  Where am I going?

  Amber makes a wide U-turn right in the middle of the highway and circles back toward Clarksville, winding through several side streets until she stops dead in front of her old house. In that brief second, she forgets she doesn’t live here anymore.

  What am I doing here?

  She lets off the brake and coasts forward.

  Where do I live now?

  Her frazzled brain struggles for a second to recall the way to the cabin. Once it does, she tries to think of a reason to return. To do what? Sit there? Without Bree? The thought levels her.

  Where else could she go? Karena’s? Bridgette’s? Rosie’s? Of course. And they would gladly welcome her into their homes. But then what? It won’t shed the hollowness.

  Where do I belong?

  What if I am truly lost? A lost soul.

  Amber pilots the van back toward the highway heading out of town. She picks up speed, still unsure where she’s headed, steering past the church. The white steeple, lit up with several spotlights, looms large and expectant against the dark stormy sky.

  When you’re lost, come home. The words whisper to her spirit, stilling her wild mind.

  Amber slams on the brakes, skidding to a stop in front of the main entrance.

  This used to be your real home. Remember?

  Is her mind doing strange things? Or did God speak to her just now?

  Either way, it’s time to reckon with Him. She spills out of the car and charges up the front steps of the building.

  “First of all, God, I used to have faith. I used to believe You were good.”

  Neither the church nor the voice offers a response. She scans the dark and empty night. This is crazy. But she can’t stop. It feels good to yell at God.

  “Then, You did this to me. You took away my husband, my home, and now my daughter. I tried everything I knew how to do.” She pleads with the cross atop the steeple. “So why? What did I ever do to deserve this? I gave You everything! Hours and hours in that building. This is a pretty crappy reward for being faithful.”

  Hands on her hips, Amber glares at the front doors of the church. Was the joke on her? One big, cruel, empty hoax? If He didn’t produce an answer, she could never step foot here again.

  “So? What are You gonna do? How are You gonna fix this mess? ’Cause I’m done. It’s on You now.”

  Amber pauses. The night remains still. Nothing stirs around her. She listens. Tiny tremors quake her knees. She bolsters her hope a second longer.

  “Yup. That’s what I thought.” She pivots, storming down the steps.

  And then . . . a flicker. The stained-glass window on the front of the church, right below the steeple, suddenly illuminates. Amber rises, gazing at the luminescent art. Jesus the Good Shepherd, holding the little lost lamb, a circle of children gathered at his feet. In all her years at the church, Amber had never really seen this. She studies the beautiful image.

  She is that lamb that Jesus has been holding in his arms. This whole time.

  The front door creaks open. Amber’s eyes travel from the window to a wheelchair rolling out. Nelson. “Thought I heard some yelling out here.” Behind him are Karena, Pastor Williams, Bridgette . . . and Cody.

  Nelson wheels up to Amber with a smile and reaches his hand out to her.

  “What are you all still doing here?”

  Bridgette takes her other hand.

  “Praying. For you,” says Cody.

  Amber glances at Pastor Williams and Karena, who are sharing a peaceful look. “Won’t you come in?” the pastor says.

  Cody holds the door for her.

  And Amber steps inside.

  chapter sixty-one

  What Happened That Day

  THERE’S SOMETHING THAT I’ve been wanting to tell you,” says Nelson as he positions his chair next to Amber. She sits in the front pew of church, exhausted.

  “I think I’m ready now.” Amber lifts her gaze to him.

  Nelson breaches the awkward silence as he locks his chair and fumbles with his footrest. “I just hope you can forgive me.”

  “For what?” Amber gives him her full attention. She recognizes that familiar lump forming in her throat. “It’s okay. Whatever it is. It’s forgiven.”

  “Sergeant Hill was the closest I ever came to having a big brother.”

  Amber nods, bracing
herself for the final puzzle piece to Darren’s death.

  “We were on patrol, and it was getting to be around dusk. We were in our Humvees on this desolate stretch of desert on this low road between several dunelike ridges. This one wise-cracking guy from Texas, Corporal Schaefer, was making us all hungry talking about the perfect barbecued ribs. And we were thinking about hunting one of those skinny little mountain goats they have up there in those hills.”

  Amber laughs a little.

  “I was begging them to stop talking about food, because my stomach was growling something fierce. Darren gave me his last protein bar. And then we started talking about how we’d all be home soon, and Darren said we should all have a barbecue cook-off to see who could make the best ribs.”

  “That sounds like him for sure.” Darren had a great love for his five-burner, cast-iron grill—a piece that was especially hard for her to get rid of when she had to sell it early on.

  “So anyhow, we kept going until we reached this one place. There was a burned-out car and all this debris. Clearly there had been a battle there before. It was that kinda eerie feeling you get, you know? Right before something’s about to go down?”

  Nelson looks away for a moment. An uneasy silence replaces their levity from just moments before.

  “Darren got real quiet and wouldn’t take his eyes off the road. When we saw that, we all turned real nervous. Then all of a sudden he yelled, ‘STOP! STOP!’ And we looked a few feet ahead of the truck, and there was this small metal object sticking out of the dirt right in our path.”

  “A bomb,” mouths Amber.

  Nelson nods. “Darren got out and went to the front of the Humvee. Schaefer and I jumped out after him, to cover. He went to the bomb and saw that there was a wire, and the Humvee was right on top of it.”

  “Darren yelled at the guys to get out of the truck. And that’s when we saw the insurgents. Above us on the ridge. But it was too late.”

  Nelson’s eyes rove to the front of the church and stare blankly at the altar. Amber waits, not daring to move.

  “The first hit knocked most of us to the ground. We scattered everywhere, and then everyone was firing at once. Darren wanted us to get to cover behind the second Humvee, about twenty feet away. He went first, bullets flying around him.