by Chris Fabry
Tears came to her father’s eyes. She reached for his hand on the bed. It was wrapped with tape that held a tube and needle in place. When she touched him, he opened his hand and grasped hers tightly and squeezed.
“Yes,” he said, and his face lit again. “I love that so much. Thank you, Hannah.” His eyes filled and his voice was pained. “I wish I could be there for you.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind coming here.”
Hannah pulled up a chair and held her father’s hand as they talked. She asked the questions she couldn’t ask before. Her father told her things about her mother she’d never heard. He even said he had a nickname when he was younger.
“Why did they call you T-bone?”
He smiled. “For some reason I thought eating meat before a race would make me faster. So just before every race I ate a steak. Some of my teammates heard about it and the name kind of stuck.”
The conversation was easy and it only felt like they’d been talking five minutes when Hannah noticed the sun was going down. She told her father she needed to leave but would come back the next day.
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” he said.
When she walked through the front exit, she looked at the bike rack. There was her old bicycle waiting and ready for the ride home. It felt like an answer to prayer.
CHAPTER 33
John and Amy ate lunch together as often as they could, and today they had things to talk about over sandwiches in John’s classroom.
Their conversation turned to Thomas, and John gave her the latest update. He was still in ICU, but doctors were encouraged by his response to medication.
“Any idea how much damage was done to his heart?” Amy said.
“They don’t think it was extensive.”
“So no surgery.”
John shook his head. “There’s no way he’s strong enough for surgery. With his kidneys not functioning and now his heart, it’s a miracle he’s still with us.”
“It’s almost like he’s hanging on for a reason.”
“More like God has kept him alive for a purpose. You should hear his prayers, Amy. He’s only been a believer three years, but the depth of his relationship with God . . . He’s not letting his circumstances dictate his faith, you know?”
Amy nodded. “Which is where we all are. The town, the school, your team—Ethan’s college prospects. We have to believe that God is going to use all of this. That He’s at work in spite of . . .”
Her voice trailed and John looked up from his lunch. She was looking past him at the door, which he had closed. It was open now and Hannah walked in and stood by his desk, a serious look on her face. It almost seemed like she was about to cry.
Before he could ask what was up, or even say hello, he recognized what she was holding. With both hands out as if presenting an offering, she held his wristwatch. It had been missing for so long. She placed it on a book on his desk and he stared at it, trying to put the pieces together.
He looked up at her and saw hurt and pain in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Coach,” Hannah said. “That day when you ran with Will and me, I saw this on the bleachers. I took it.”
John glanced down at the watch, then turned to Amy.
“If you need to report this, I understand,” Hannah said. “But I had to give it back.”
John stood. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The feelings inside were overwhelming. He touched Hannah’s shoulder and smiled. Then he gave her a hug and thought about Jesus’ parable, when the father embraced his son who had squandered his inheritance. The father had waited, watched the horizon for so long, and when his son returned, he was ready to forgive. That’s what this felt like. Hannah had not only given her heart to God, she was following through with her commitment.
Amy stood and hugged Hannah. When she pulled back, she said, “I’m so proud of you.”
Hannah grinned. She turned to John and said, “Every time you looked at your wrist, I felt guilty.”
“It takes a lot of courage to admit your mistakes, Hannah. You could have kept it.”
“I was reading the book of James, and there’s a lot I don’t understand, but it said, ‘Confess your sins to one another.’ This is the last thing of all the things I took.”
“So there were more items?”
“A lot more. And I knew I needed to give them back. All of them.”
John pulled up a chair and asked her to sit. “What else was there?”
She listed a few items.
“And how did it go when you returned them?” John said.
“Pretty good. Some not so good. Some people weren’t home, so I left a note. I knew I couldn’t just leave a note for you. I needed to tell you face-to-face.”
John smiled. “Not everybody will hug you when you apologize. Not everybody will forgive.”
“I know.”
“So why did you take all those things?”
“I don’t know, Coach. I didn’t need your watch. I had an iPod my grandmother gave me. But when I saw those things, something inside made me want them.”
Amy leaned forward. “I’ve worked with a counselor at our church. She told me that sometimes when people feel empty, they do things to fill that space.”
“Like drugs?” Hannah said.
“Sure. It can be a lot of things. But it sounds like for you, taking those things added something valuable to your life. You were trying to fill an emptiness that could never be filled with things. Does that make sense?”
Hannah nodded like she’d never have come up with that explanation. “I don’t want to do that anymore, Mrs. Harrison.”
“That’s clear,” John said. “You’ve returned everything. You’ve confessed it to God and asked His forgiveness. Anytime you bring sin into the light, God will help you. It’s painful, though. I’m glad you’re reading James—that’s such a practical book.”
“My dad suggested it. He said it’s really helped him.”
John sat up straight. “You’ve been to see your father?”
“Most days after practice, I ride my bike over and sit with him. I’m going over today after school to do homework and talk. I never knew talking could be that much fun.”
John glanced at Amy and she looked shocked by the news.
“I’ve forgiven him,” Hannah said. “I told him that and I think it helped.”
“I’ll bet it did,” Amy said. “For both of you.”
Hannah smiled. “I thought I was doing it for him, so he wouldn’t feel guilty. But it actually made me feel so much better.”
“Forgiveness will do that,” John said. “It’s a gift you give others that comes right back to your own heart.”
“So you know your dad’s health took a turn,” Amy said.
Hannah nodded. “He’s hoping to go back to his regular room today. I think he’s going to be okay.”
John shook his head in amazement. “So you opened your heart to your heavenly Father, and you got your earthly one back too. You’ve taken some huge steps, Hannah.”
“Yeah,” she said, her face beaming. “I think everything’s going to work out fine now.”
CHAPTER 34
Hannah read a section from her biology book to her father and he listened with interest. He admitted he hadn’t been the best student in school, but he said he was proud of her for taking her studies seriously.
She read him a poem she had written for English class. It was titled “Meeting My Dad for the First Time.”
Meeting my dad for the first time
Was like meeting a stranger.
Gray hair, gray beard, and eyes that can’t see.
A big smile. A nervous laugh.
I didn’t say what I wanted and neither did he.
So we tried again.
I forgave him for leaving.
It feels like he came back from the dead.
“Wow,” her father said when she finished. The words seemed to take his breath away. “That’s heavy, Han
nah. And really good.”
“Yeah.”
“What grade did you get?”
“I didn’t turn it in.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready for everybody to know . . .”
“Ah, you mean you’re not ready for your grandmother to know.”
She nodded.
“Hey, you have to talk. I don’t know if you’re nodding or shaking your head.”
Hannah laughed. “Yes, you’re right about my grandmother. She doesn’t see all of my schoolwork, but there’s a parent-teacher conference coming up, and you never know. I don’t want the poem getting back to her before . . .”
“You probably need to tell her about coming here, don’t you think?”
Hannah nodded, then said, “Yeah.”
There was silence between them and Hannah studied his face, trying to gauge if now was a good time or not. He’d said she could ask him anything.
“Can you tell me something about my mother?”
His eyes wandered. “Sure. What else do you want to know?”
“Tell me again what she was like.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “She was like a cool breeze on a hot day. Now that sounds like poetry, but it’s true. She lit up the room when she walked in. She had a laugh—oh, she could laugh and it would melt your heart. And smart? Unlike me, she’d know exactly what that biology book was saying. Prettiest thing I ever saw. It was like there was a light inside that streamed out of her. I could go on and on about your mother. There aren’t enough words. What else do you want to know?”
“Did you want to get married?”
“She did. When she found out you were on the way, she suggested we elope. I was different back then, Hannah. I only thought of myself. So I made excuses. Told her it was too soon, not the right time, I needed a steady job, that kind of thing. Truth is, I didn’t want the responsibility of being a husband and father. I wanted to have fun.”
“Is that why you took drugs?”
His face clouded, the past sneaking up through her words.
“You said I could ask anything, right?” she said.
He smiled sadly. “Absolutely. So the drugs. I hope this is never something you experience firsthand. The drugs took away all the problems I had, but only for a little while. They made me feel good when I felt bad.
“I heard a preacher on the radio who described my problem. He was talking about sin but I changed sin to drugs. It goes: ‘Drugs will take you farther than you want to go, keep you longer than you want to stay, and cost you more than you want to pay.’ That’s what happened to me. Unfortunately your mother paid the biggest price. I had no idea how many people my decisions would hurt. But every day I wake up and wish I could go back and take a different path.”
“But you can’t.”
“No, I can’t change the past. And God, in His kindness, has forgiven me. But I’ve promised Him that I will use every breath I have left to praise Him and tell others about His grace.”
Hannah closed her book and put it in her backpack. “It’s getting late. I need to go.”
“Hannah, these visits mean so much. I look forward to every day now. I know I can’t make up for the time I lost, but having you here is a dream come true.”
She hugged him. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
“I look forward to it.”
She unlocked her bike and rode home thinking about the forgiveness the Harrisons had offered her. What she had dreaded doing had drawn them closer together. The time with her dad, asking hard questions, had been the same. She felt like she was floating home as she pedaled over the hill and put her bike inside the gate.
She had enough time to get inside before her grandmother got home. She walked in and locked the door behind her.
“Where’ve you been?”
Hannah jumped and turned to see her grandmother sitting in the living room, glaring at her.
“You scared me,” Hannah said.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so I came home early. You weren’t here. Mrs. Cole didn’t know where you were. You want to tell me?”
Hannah was frozen by the door, unable to move, unable to look her grandmother in the face for more than a second or two.
“Hannah, I want the truth.”
Hannah hung her backpack on the hook. She wanted to talk with her grandmother about how God had forgiven her, about the blue box and her father. Sometimes the people closest to you are the most difficult to tell such things to.
She sat on the floor in front of her grandmother without a clue where to begin.
“I met him.”
“You met who?”
“My father. Thomas Hill.”
Her grandmother’s mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about, girl?”
“He’s alive, Grandma. He’s not dead. That’s where I was today.”
Her eyes flashed fire. “Did he come looking for you?”
“No, Coach Harrison was over at the hospital and—”
“Coach Harrison?”
“Yes, he met my dad and found out I was his daughter. He’s really sick, Grandma. He’s blind now and he has to have dialysis because his kidneys—”
“Back up,” she said, interrupting. “I don’t understand. Are you saying your coach introduced you?”
Hannah hoped the more she explained, the more her grandmother would listen and accept the story. But the look on her face made Hannah suspect things weren’t going to get better.
CHAPTER 35
Barbara had stewed all afternoon waiting for Hannah to arrive. She’d asked Mrs. Cole, their neighbor, where she thought Hannah might have gone on her bicycle. The woman didn’t know and said Hannah had taken off on her bike after school each day that week.
The sick feeling she’d had at work felt like the flu. But this was worse. Hannah wasn’t just taking things that didn’t belong to her; she was sneaking around and who knew what trouble she was into. Barbara’s mind raced with all the possibilities. She turned the chair toward the door and planted herself. She’d wait as long as it took.
When Hannah arrived, Barbara opened the floodgates of her anger and the girl sat on the floor like she used to do as a toddler, playing with her dolls and horses. This time, however, she wasn’t playing make-believe—she was telling a story that Barbara had never imagined she’d hear. Barbara had spent fifteen years making sure Thomas had no access to Hannah. He’d taken Janet from her, the dearest person in the world. Barbara would never let him near Hannah. That was the vow she had made.
And yet, here he was, sweet-talking her, answering questions, no doubt telling Hannah how awful Barbara had been. Hannah had gotten partway through the story when Barbara heard the magic words. How had Thomas made contact? He’d used the coach at her school. That sent her over the edge. She’d trusted that place. She’d trusted that coach.
She got her purse and car keys and pointed a finger at Hannah. “You are not to go out of this house—do you hear me?”
“Grandma, why are you so mad? I don’t understand—”
“Of course you don’t understand. You’re too young to know what I’ve been through. I will not go through this again, you hear? I ought to run over that bike of yours!”
“Grandma, no!”
“You set foot out of this house while I’m gone, and you’ll see what I’ll do.”
“Where are you going?”
“Never mind where I’m going. You get in that room and you stay there. You understand me?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
Barbara got in the car and was ready to speed away before she realized she had no idea where to go. She stormed back into the house, slamming the door behind her, and opened the Brookshire directory she’d stashed in a kitchen drawer.
Barbara found the number and address. She recognized the street. It was about fifteen minutes away. She slammed the house door, slammed the car door, and noticed Mrs. Cole on her front porch with a wo
rried look.
Ten minutes later, after ignoring the “Drive like your kids live here” signs, she parked on the tree-lined street in front of the Harrisons’ home, a nice two-story that had all the marks of privilege. Big yard. Concrete driveway with a basketball hoop. They probably had a pool in the back.
She had her speech ready. It was locked tightly somewhere in her heart. She flew across the lawn and up the front steps and rapped hard on the door. Coach Harrison opened it and recognized her.
“Mrs. Scott,” he said, looking shocked to see her.
“I need to speak to you,” she said. It was all she could do not to unleash on him right there on the front porch. Better to get inside and let them both hear so she didn’t have to repeat it.
“Come on in,” he said.
His wife joined him in the living room and offered Barbara something to drink. They asked if she wanted to sit. She stood instead, trying to control the volcano bubbling inside, glancing at the nice furniture and nice pictures on the wall and the nice life they led. Everything neat and tidy.
“This won’t take long,” she said, planting her feet on the shiny hardwood. “I come home early from work, expecting to find Hannah there. And two hours later she walks in having ridden her bike to the hospital, where she has been visiting the one person I vowed she’d never meet.”
Amy kept her eyes on the floor, like a scared pup seeing a rolled-up newspaper. Coach Harrison at least looked her in the eyes. As her anger seethed, Barbara felt she was doing a good job restraining herself.
“Then I find out you two connected them!”
“Mrs. Scott,” Coach Harrison said with a conciliatory tone. She’d heard that tone before. Some clerk at a store telling her to settle down when she’d been overcharged.
“I am not finished,” she snapped, raising a finger. That shut him up. She stared at him, then glared at his wife with fire in her eyes.
“She’s been going there while I’m at work and not telling me. I didn’t know he was back in Franklin. And I don’t care what shape he’s in!”