Love Story

by Karen Kingsbury

  The guy slipped the ring onto her finger and they held each other again. Just as the sun came up over the mountains behind them. The two kissed, lost in the moment.

  This was Cody’s chance to find another beach. He’d waited long enough, and now that the surprise was over he needed to leave. A few parking lots down, he found a spot by himself. He rolled down the windows of his car and stared at the ocean. He had four days to find her and change her mind.

  Open her heart to me, please, God. After the mess I’ve made of things, I can’t do this on my own.

  With Me all things are possible, My son.

  The words practically seemed audible. Cody loved when this happened, when God spoke to him in moments like this. Almost like a father. The encouragement made Cody more excited to go.

  He watched the morning beach come to life, the seagulls as they began their dive for fish and the occasional jogger running along the shore. Suddenly Cody remembered a Bible verse from his reading time yesterday. It was from Lamentations. God’s compassions are new every morning.

  Just like the beach. And working at Oaks Christian. Like his mother’s new life since she’d been out of prison. Everything had the chance for new life, because God’s grace and second chances were new every morning. Now Cody could just hope they’d be new for him and Andi.

  Ideally, sometime in the next four days.

  • • •

  THE ROAD WAS rough beneath the Humvee, making Cody’s job harder. He sat shotgun, his AR-15 loaded and ready. Insurgents were moving into the streets at the edge of the city. Cody and his fellow soldiers had orders to get there and clear the buildings, anywhere the enemy might be hiding.

  Cody looked around at his buddies, three of them across the backseat, and the one driving. They were his best friends. The five of them ate together and slept in the same tent together. Whenever they had a mission, they traveled together.

  But for some reason Cody couldn’t remember their names.

  He was about to ask the driver, when it happened. An explosion ripped through the jeep and suddenly blood was everywhere. Blood and body parts and screams, flying through the air, consuming Cody. He was still in the air, still spinning around above the desert floor, still surrounded by bloody body parts, and all of it was happening in slow motion. Only something was different now.

  Something was terribly wrong with him.

  Don’t look down, Coleman. Don’t do it. But the bodies of his friends cried out at him. Look what this war did to you, Cody . . . You have to look . . .

  And his friends were missing limbs. One of them no longer had a head. And finally their voices won out and Cody stared at the place where his legs used to be. They were both missing. The body parts flying around the air were his own. I have no legs! He screamed the words. Someone help me! Someone catch my legs and put them back where they belong. I need them!

  No matter how loud he screamed, no one listened. No one seemed to hear. So Cody tried to reach out and catch his legs himself. If I can just reach them, everything will be okay. He stretched out his hand for them, but his body wouldn’t cooperate, like his arms weren’t working at all.

  Again he heard the frantic voices of his friends. See what this war did to you, Cody. See what it did.

  Cody felt terror run through him. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know what had happened to his arms and hands. But he had no choice. He had to look hard through the blood still swirling around him, but as he did, he saw for himself.

  His arms were missing. Both of them.

  And then, with his own blood and body parts still spinning around him, Cody released a guttural scream like nothing he’d ever heard. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel his heartbeat, and then it occurred to him.

  He must be dead.

  God, how could this happen . . . I’m not ready to die. I was supposed to marry Andi Ellison. Please, God . . . put me back together. Please . . .

  “Sir?” The voice was pleasant, kind.

  Cody could still see the horrors of the accident, still see the faces of his nameless friends calling out to him, telling him the war was a waste of his time. Telling him it wasn’t worth it.

  “No!” Cody heard himself cry out. He jerked back and then opened his eyes. A flight attendant was looking straight at him. It mattered, the work they had done in Afghanistan. It did.

  The woman had her hand on his shoulder. “Sir . . . can you hear me?”

  Where was he? Cody sat up straighter, his breaths coming fast and hard, like he’d been running ten miles. “What . . . what happened?”

  “You’re on a flight from Los Angeles, sir. You were shouting out.” She looked concerned. “A dream, maybe?”

  He was on a flight. That’s right, he was headed to Louisiana to see Andi. In a quick move, he felt his arms and legs. They were still there, all but his lower left leg, which he’d lost in Afghanistan for real.

  Yes, he must’ve been dreaming. Another episode. A reminder that in some ways he would never fully leave Afghanistan, never be completely removed from the day when his convoy ran over an IED, killing everyone in the vehicle but him.

  All his friends from that time gone.

  Cody settled himself. Deep breaths. Take deep breaths. His mind turned automatically to Philippians 4. The way he’d been trained in counseling over the past few months. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus . . .

  He realized then that the woman was still watching him, still worried. “Are you okay, sir?”

  “I am. Thank you.” People in the rows ahead of him were turning around and looking his way. “I’m sorry. I . . . I must be really tired.”

  Cody’s racing heart began to settle down. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation . . . He turned and looked out the window and let the Scripture run through his mind again and again. It had been more than a month since his last bout. The episodes were unpredictable. He could never know when one would hit.

  He adjusted his camouflage baseball cap. The one he’d gotten while he was on active duty. Maybe he needed more rest. That could be it. Another thing he’d learned in the group meetings.

  “Hey there.” The voice came from beside him. Cody was sitting in an aisle seat, so he looked up and saw a soldier in full fatigues, maybe in his late twenties. The guy was headed back to his seat, probably from the restroom.

  “Yes, sir?”

  The man took another step and faced Cody. “Army, right?” He nodded to Cody’s cap.

  “Yes, sir. Served in Afghanistan.” Cody reached out his hand. “I’m Cody.”

  “Beck.” The two shook. “I figured you had served.” He glanced at Cody’s prosthetic leg. “What with your injury.” The man looked straight at him. There was something otherworldly about his pale green eyes. “That dream you just had? It’s the PTSD, right? The nightmare just now?”

  “Yes.” This was one of the worst parts of PTSD. The inability to control the nightmares. He hated the question, but there was only one way to answer it. “They won’t leave me alone. Even now. Years later.”

  “You’re going to be okay. I wanted to tell you.” The soldier gave him an understanding smile. “Even if you still have episodes, God is with you. And they’ll fade in time. Really.”

  Cody nodded. “I’ve heard that. I’m going to a support group.” He sighed. “Praying God takes it away. The nightmares. The fear. They’re tough, for sure.”

  “Yeah, they are.” The soldier tipped his cap. “Keep praying. God has good things ahead for you.”

  “Thank you.” Cody watched the guy head back up the aisle.

  Strange, Cody thought. The entire conversation was as if God, Himself, had sent the guy. Just to give Cody a healthy dose of encouragement. Which he definitely needed. Because sure, the wicked dreams were exhausting and vivid. The
y made Cody feel like he couldn’t breathe. But the nightmares were just part of PTSD.

  It was the other part that made life hard. The part he had kept from Andi after they got engaged the second time. The way he couldn’t eat at a restaurant unless he had his back against a wall, or the way crowds sometimes made him extra quiet. Even the crowds at his own football games. The noise would pick up and all Cody could see were the people. Masses of people. And suddenly he would become keenly aware of his surroundings, and less aware of the people he loved.

  People like Andi.

  She’d been around him at moments like that, and he hadn’t explained what was happening. Why he was quiet or anxious or distant. No wonder she’d broken things off. Cody looked out the window again and thought about that second engagement. He could remember feeling how all of his life had led up to that trip to Bloomington.

  She thought they were having a birthday party for her mother. Instead Cody had been planning a surprise engagement party for Andi. He could remember feeling how all of his life had led up to that trip to Bloomington.

  Now all of his life led up to this one. The trip to Louisiana.

  He looked at the upsides of a hundred white puffy clouds. He could remember Andi asleep beside him. Back then, all he could think was how in seventy-two hours—on a Saturday afternoon—despite the struggles between them—he would ask Andi Ellison to be his wife. Again.

  And now he was praying for another chance.

  His last chance.

  He relaxed once more into the airplane seat. Now he could only pray she would say yes one more time. Andi, whose heart was pure gold. The girl who had slipped into his life like a summer breeze in the dead of winter, giving him hope like nothing ever had. They were survivors, the two of them. People who, because of choices and circumstances, had given up on their dreams of finding true love.

  Until each other.

  A rush of anxiety came at Cody. There was nothing sure about the days ahead, no way of knowing how Andi would react. She wouldn’t take his phone calls, after all. Odds were good she wouldn’t want to see him. But even so, he had to come, had to see for himself if there was even the slightest chance she’d hear him out.

  Cody drew a slow breath and tried to relax. God was here. He could feel that, too. I’ve made a mess of things, Lord. He lifted his eyes to the vast blue beyond. Through it all You never left me. You were always there, guiding me, providing for me. Making the answers clear.

  If Andi did talk to him, if she was willing to give him another chance, the situation would still be awkward. Who gets back together after two failed engagements? Cody tried to picture calling Andi’s father someday soon. They would talk for a few minutes about Cody’s football team, spring training, and how the coming season looked.

  But before long Cody would have to get to the point. Yes, he’d asked before, and yes, he and Andi had struggled through two broken engagements. Cody hadn’t meant to hurt her, he would explain. He had his reasons. But now he was convinced he knew better how to love her. Better how to handle the trauma that still plagued him.

  He’d never been more sure in all his life.

  Andi’s father would probably hang up on him, too. Or maybe not. Maybe he would actually be happy for Cody and Andi. The man had always loved Cody, and he’d said that he believed God had crossed their paths for this purpose.

  Months after Andi broke up with him the last time around, Cody had run into Andi’s father at Ralphs supermarket in Thousand Oaks.

  The conversation that day was as real now as it had been back then. Keith had come up to Cody just as he was about to enter the checkout line. “Cody Coleman.” His tone held an understandable hesitancy.

  Cody had turned around and there he was—the man who would’ve been his father-in-law. “Keith. Hey.” Cody shook the man’s hand. “It’s been a while.”

  “Too long.” He paused. “How are you? Really?”

  Cody stepped out of line so the two could talk. For several seconds Cody didn’t say anything. Things were too far gone for small talk. “I . . . I miss her.”

  It felt like they were the only two people in the store. Keith nodded. “She misses you, too.”

  That had shocked Cody. “She . . . hasn’t taken my calls.”

  “Andi’s hurt.” The man seemed to stand a little straighter, the way any daddy might when his daughter’s heart was involved.

  “I handled everything wrong.” Cody hadn’t known what to say. “I’ve never . . . been more sorry in all my life.” He shifted, uneasy. “If I could do it all over again, I would.” And the two of us would be married by now, Cody had thought to himself. “How is she?”

  “She’s fine. She enjoys her work.” Keith hesitated. “Keep trying, Cody. She does miss you.”

  Okay, so Andi’s father still cared about him. Still wanted to see them together. At least he had back then. Cody looked across his seatmates at the vast blue outside the window. He didn’t like to think about the terrible broken engagements between them.

  None of it had been Andi’s fault.

  Now if only he could find her and explain himself. He would tell her about the terrible dreams and strange episodes. The way he had wanted to protect her from the realities of his postwar trauma. At least then she would know that his distance toward her wasn’t because of anything she had done.

  He was in love with her then and he was in love with her now.

  Cody felt overwhelmed. What if she turns me away? How am I supposed to go on without her? He closed his eyes. And suddenly the words of the soldier—Beck, right?—came back to him. You’re going to be okay . . . God has good things ahead for you. Yes, that’s what he needed to believe.

  God was on his side, and he wasn’t going to let PTSD stand in the way. Sure, he might have episodes. But he’d learned new ways of coping, and Andi would only help. Andi’s face and voice filled his heart. She cared about people in pain. That’s why she was making her living working in disaster areas.

  Please, God . . . help her to see me in a new light. Let her listen to me, please. He missed her more than ever, with every breath. And something else . . . something Cody knew he would never find with any other girl. Andi Ellison made him feel ten feet tall.

  Now he just prayed that Beck’s words were right.

  That God did indeed have good things ahead.

  15

  By the time Cody landed in Louisiana, rented a car and set out toward the flood zone, it was late afternoon. Still enough daylight to find her, but not much. Cody didn’t care. He would’ve walked a hundred city blocks in the pitch-dark if it meant seeing her tonight.

  As soon as he hit the edge of the disaster area, Cody felt his stomach turn. The torrential rain and flooding had been swift and certain. Entire neighborhoods were wiped away. Even now, with waters clearly receding, there were stacks of debris everywhere. Cars flipped on their sides, pieces of houses tangled up with broken trees and trash.

  A police officer had given Cody the address of a temporary shelter. No guarantee Andi was there, but it was the first place Cody intended to look. As he drove, on either side he could see people helping each other. Many of them had shovels, and they worked to collect the piles of wood and garbage and broken belongings from what once must’ve been manicured lawns. Enormous bins sat in the streets and people everywhere were doing their part to fill them.

  He had heard on the news that most of the workers were volunteers from local churches. Those leading the cleanup were mostly from Christian relief organizations like the one Andi worked for. All of it made Cody thankful for the church. The Bible commanded people to be the hands and feet of Jesus, to help the poor and serve others.

  The scene playing out on either side of him as he drove was exactly what God must’ve imagined. Cody wished he could get out and help. But he had to keep going. Had to find her before the next few days disappeared.

  Andi wasn’t at the first evacuation center he went to, or the second. Then someone told him about
the temporary animal shelter. The man thought Andi might be working there. Cody’s heart pounded as he drove to the address and stepped out of the car. He stood there a moment, studying the place. It was an oversized aluminum shed packed with crates and cages.

  The door was open and Cody could see people moving around.

  Then he saw her. She was working in the shed. A tall blond girl whose graceful movements could only mean one thing. He had found her. Cody straightened and felt his courage double. I need You, God . . . help me do this.

  Clouds had gathered overhead and everything around him was soaking wet. The heavy branches from the nearby trees, the muddy ground, and the shed. All of it was drenched. Cody wore a navy blue rain jacket, which he pulled tight around himself.

  The whole time he never took his eyes from her.

  For a moment he paused as she brought a puppy to her face and nuzzled it against her cheek. Cody couldn’t hear what she was saying, but watching her was enough. She loved animals, so working here was perfect for her. He was about to call her name when another worker, a guy, came up to Andi and stood close to her, the two of them admiring the puppy.

  Cody took a step back. What was this? He watched another minute until the guy went back to whatever he’d been doing before. Were the two of them more than friends? The way they laughed and looked at each other, it almost seemed like it. Rocks filled Cody’s gut. Maybe he should turn around and head to his hotel. Think this through before he made a fool of himself.

  But then he remembered the words the Lord had whispered to him. With Me all things are possible, My son.

  Yes, that’s right. Nothing would ever be impossible with God on his side. And God was on his side. Even now. That didn’t mean he’d get the answer he wanted, but it meant he had to try.

  He was too committed to leave now.

  The shed was only ten yards away, and as Cody took a few steps closer, Andi must’ve heard him or seen him from the corner of her eye. Whatever caught her attention, she turned and faced him. And then she froze in place. After several seconds she set the puppy back in its cage and came out to meet him.