No, whatever Dick Baker might say or do, it couldn’t compare to any of that. Faith steadied herself and waited for what was coming.
Her boss spun around and faced her. “The story I hear is that you bought the land where that Jesus statue stands. You contacted Bethany officials and paid ten thousand dollars for it so the city could avoid following the judges order.” His chuckle was bitter and filled with sarcasm. “Believe me, I’d like to look each of those reporters in the face and tell them they were wrong. Tell them there’s no way any anchor of mine would do a foolhardy thing like that. Especially when I’d already told her not to do anything of the sort.” He raised his voice. “But in this case, I had nothing to tell them.”
The man walked four slow steps toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. “Did you do it, Faith? Is it true?” He stopped in front of her and crossed his arms, his glare boring into her like a drill bit.
“Yes … it’s true.” Her voice was kind but firm as she felt the Scripture continue to work its way through her heart and soul. “I am an anchorwoman, and yes, I promised to be unbiased. But I’m a Christian first, and a citizen second. I have a right to purchase property like anyone else.”
Anger burned in Baker’s eyes, but he neither shouted nor stormed about the office as Faith had seen him do on other occasions. Instead he jerked his head up, sucked in a deep breath though his nose, and studied the ceiling. When he looked back at her, his words were matter-of-fact. “Very well. And now I have the right to fire you.”
I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength … I can do all things through … She forced herself to exhale so she wouldn’t pass out. Help me God. See me through. Faith knew there was no debating him on the issue. Instead, she endured the five minutes of paperwork in silence. Dick Baker gave her a final paycheck, then shook his head. “You could have been something special, Faith. The stars were all lined up in your favor.”
She could feel tears in her eyes, but it didn’t matter. Because in a part of her mind so close she could almost touch it, she could see her father’s face, hear him telling her, “Well done, honey. Well done.”
She gathered her dismissal documents and shook Mr. Baker’s hand. Meeting his gaze, she let a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “My life isn’t guided by the stars, sir. It’s guided by the One who made them. And whatever happens from here, He’s got it perfectly in control.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry about all this.”
Her boss didn’t seem to know how to take that, and Faith wondered what he’d expected. He scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “I have someone else filling in for you tonight. We’ll hire a new anchor within the week.” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Good luck, Faith.”
Fifteen minutes later she was on the doorstep of Joshua Nunn’s office, the same office he had shared with her father. Joshua appeared in his suit jacket, and Faith guessed he’d been on his way home. It was after six, after all, so she was surprised to catch him there at all.
“Faith, what is it?” There was a pained look in his eyes, and almost immediately realization settled over his face. “The station found out?”
It was a moment her father would have understood perfectly, but in his absence, Faith felt as though she had nowhere else to turn. Joshua held out his arms, and she took a single step forward, collapsing against him and giving way to the sobs that had been building since she’d first gotten to work.
“There, there, honey, it’s okay … ” Joshua stroked her hair as he pulled her into the office and closed the door. “Did they fire you?”
Faith took three quick breaths and tried to control her tears. “Y-yes. I want so badly to be strong, Joshua. But it’s too hard. I’m not as g-good at it as Dad and you.”
The feel of Joshua’s strong arms around her reminded her of her father, and Faith felt her tears start to subside.
“Sweetheart, there are times when I don’t feel good enough, either.” He smoothed her hair off her face. “But the truth is neither of us has to be like your dad. We can just be us, the way God made us to be. That’s enough, understand?”
Faith swallowed hard. “I hated being passive, sitting by while bad things happened around me.” She drew a steadying breath and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “That’s why I bought the land. It was something I could do, something I believed in.” She eased herself into a nearby chair, and Joshua took the one opposite her. “You know why I did it, right? It isn’t that the Jesus statue has some kind of magic powers or anything. It’s just a piece of rock, really. But it stands for something, for the freedom of the people of Bethany. Freedom to have a statue of Jesus Christ in our public park, freedom to worship Jesus and talk about Him and not have to live in fear that the government will one day take away our right to do so.” She lifted her chin and felt her strength returning. “Know what I mean?”
Joshua leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees, his eyes filled with compassion. “I know exactly what you mean.” He uttered a quiet laugh. “Faith, my dear, you’re more like your father than you think.”
She sniffed again and smiled. “My father was never unemployed.”
“No, but he would gladly have given up a job if it meant standing up for what was right.”
Faith studied Joshua for a moment and decided it was time he knew. “You know the attorney for HOUR, Jordan Riley?”
Joshua worked the muscles in his jaw. “I know him.”
Faith sighed and shook her head, running her fingers up through her bangs. “We were friends as kids.” She looked up again. “I thought you might want to know.”
Understanding passed over Joshua’s features. “Very interesting. I had a dream before I got this case … ” He pointed to the photos on the wall, one of himself and one of Faith’s father. “In the dream my picture was still on the wall, but your father’s was missing. In its place was a picture of an angry young man—a man who looked exactly like Jordan Riley.” Joshua eased back into his chair and stroked his day-old beard. “I’ve been praying for the young man, Faith. Why don’t you tell me about him? Maybe this is the answer I’ve been waiting for.”
Her eyes closed as she allowed herself to drift, allowed the hands of time to unwind, to take her back to the days when she and Jordan were barely teenagers, to the winter his mother got sick. As the images took shape, she told the story for the first time in more than a decade.
“Jordan was the kindest boy I’d ever known.” She smiled. “A grown-up in a thirteen-year-olds body. He never knew his father, but he had the instincts of a dad, especially after his mother became ill. He made sure his sister, Heidi, was in before dark, helped her with her homework, and cooked dinner for their family.”
She opened her eyes and blinked back fresh tears. “He was a wonderful boy, really.”
He smiled. “It sounds like it.”
Emotion filled her throat. “We were best friends, and when his mother got sick we spent hours talking on the porch, sitting side by side, sharing our feelings. That was when I told him about Jesus. Before long, Jordan and Heidi and their mom began attending church with us. They read the Bibles Mom and Dad gave them.” She swallowed, letting her head fall back against the chair. “Oh, Joshua, in those early days—before we knew Jordan’s mother was dying—it seemed like new life had been breathed into him … into his home.”
Faith wiped at a trail of tears on her right cheek. “I always knew he wanted a father. But until Jesus became part of his life, Jordan’s world revolved around his mother and Heidi and me. After finding that faith in God, it was almost like his life was complete. He had the three women he loved and a Father who would never leave him, never give up on him. A Father who would love him into eternity.”
Faith hesitated. Should she tell Joshua about Jordan wanting to marry her? Immediately, she knew the answer. Telling Joshua would be like telling her own father. Besides, she needed to talk. She’d talked with her mother on the phone, of course, a
nd Mom had been very supportive when Faith explained that she’d been fired from the station. They’d prayed and even cried together, and her mother told her how proud her father would be of the stand she was taking. And yet … for all that the call had helped, she needed to talk to someone face to face.
“Jordan wanted to marry me.” She smiled through her tears and made a sound that was part sob, part laugh.
Joshua’s eyebrows raised. “Jordan Riley?”
“We were so young back then. I think we both thought we’d live next door to each other and go to church together and grow up that way forever. It seemed only natural that at some point we’d get married. We—” she swallowed back another sob—“we had very strong feelings for each other.”
She shared in detail the terrifying day she’d found out Jordan’s mother was dying. How she’d overheard her parents talking and crept closer to the wall, still out of sight, so she could pick up every word.
“She isn’t going to make it, Bob. The doctors told her this morning.” It was Faith’s mothers voice—and she was crying.
Faith’s father had taken a long time to respond. “We need to pray for a miracle. That’s all we can do.”
Her mother wept then, her voice strained with sadness. “But … if she doesn’t make it … what’ll happen to those kids, Bob? It isn’t right.”
Most of the time Faith’s father was upbeat, full of life and enthusiasm and had an answer for every dilemma. But that afternoon he released a heavy sigh, one Faith could still hear to this day. “We can’t let them be separated, even if it means we take them in to live with us.”
The whole conversation had scared Faith to death. Why Jordan and Heidi? Why their mother, when she was all those kids had? And what if she did die? Did that mean God wasn’t listening to them? That He hadn’t heard their prayers? Would Jordan and Heidi really come and live with Faith and her family? How would that make Jordan feel? He loved his mother with all his heart …
Faith sat back in her chair, the memory of those feelings making her uncomfortable and more than a little confused. As strong as her beliefs were, as devoted as she was to Scripture, as strongly as she loved her God, a God she related with personally, the questions remained. There were no more answers today than there had been back when she’d first felt them rise up in her heart.
“Jordan rode out to that statue every day. Every single day.” Faith felt the sting of tears again and gazed out the window, remembering how Jordan had been singly determined to pray his mother back to health. “He’d ride his bike out to Jericho Park and fall to his knees, face flat to the ground on behalf of his mother. He’d pray and pray and … sometimes I’d join him. I’d kneel down in the wet grass beside him and hold his hand, and we’d pray together. Begging God to spare his mother.”
Joshua shifted his position and leaned his elbows on the arms of the chair. “She didn’t make it?”
Faith reached for a tissue from the desk that had been her father’s and headed off the streams of tears making their way down both sides of her face. “No. She died before Christmas.”
At the service, Heidi had grabbed onto the casket and wailed for her mother. Only Jordan had been able to pull her away, wrapping his arms around her and comforting her so the minister could carry on with the eulogy. As far as Faith could remember, Jordan never broke down in front of his sister. He saved that for his time with Faith.
“What happened to Jordan and his sister?”
At Joshua’s question, Faith frowned. “They lived alone in the house next door for a while, maybe two weeks or so. No, it had to be less time than that. Three days, maybe four. Anyway, every evening following the funeral, I’d sit beside Jordan on his front porch and let him talk.”
She could still hear his agonized cries today. “Why, Faith … why’d He let her die? Doesn’t He love me? How can I look after Heidi on my own?”
Faith remembered struggling for the right words and usually failing. The best she could do was offer him her hand and once in a while her arm around his shoulders when the questions grew too great and there was nothing left but the quiet sobs of a brokenhearted teenage boy. A boy she had come to love.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
“I was outside the day the state workers came to the house … ” Faith sucked in a deep breath. “They came in two cars, and I stood off in the distance while the first worker explained the situation. Jordan and Heidi were to pack their things in separate suitcases. Clothes, a few toys, special pictures. Anything they wanted to save. They would be going to different foster homes—” her voice caught, and she cleared her throat—“until the courts could find a way to get them back together.”
Joshua stared at her, his stunned expression mirroring her remembered emotions. “They separated them?”
She nodded. “But not without a fight. Heidi panicked. She kept crying, refusing to go with them, to leave her brother.” The way the girl had screamed and thrown her arms around Jordan’s waist was as vivid a picture in Faith’s mind today as it had been that fall so many years ago. Heidi’s agonized words echoed through her again.
“No. I won’t leave him! Mama wants him to stay with me. We have to be together … No! Nooooo!”
Faith closed her eyes and pushed her wet tissue against the bridge of her nose. She took several seconds to compose herself before continuing the story. “My parents weren’t home when the social workers came. Maybe, if they had been, things would have been different somehow. I don’t know.” She swallowed hard. “In the end, Heidi’s crying didn’t change anything.”
Left with no choice, Jordan and Heidi had done as they were told. They filled a couple of suitcases with all the belongings they would ever have from the place that had been their home. The social workers promised them that soon, very soon, they could come back home and people would help them get their other things—their beds and books, belongings that wouldn’t fit in a suitcase.
“When they finished packing, they stood on the front yard clinging to each other, waiting while the workers whispered together. I crept up behind the adults and came alongside Jordan.” She’d known from the look on his face that Jordan wanted to hug her, to pull her aside and ask her to pray for him or to promise her that he’d be back. But Heidi needed him, and all he said was, “This is only for now. We’ll get it all straightened out, I know it.”
Faith had nodded and kept her distance, giving Heidi the time she needed with her brother. After a few minutes, the first worker turned to them and held out his hand. “Heidi, why don’t you come with me? We’ll get you settled tonight, and by tomorrow we’ll probably have the whole thing figured out.”
“No!” Heidi had screamed at the man, clinging to Jordan, sobbing, much as she’d done at her mother’s funeral. “I won’t leave him!”
Faith remembered Jordan’s pale face, how he’d looked decades older than his thirteen years. He seemed too terrified to cry, too shocked to do anything more than respond as an adult, the way he’d been responding ever since his mother had gotten sick. “Heidi, it’s okay.” He put his face close to hers and forced her to look at him. “It’s just for a few days. They’ll bring you to me as soon as they find a place for both of us.”
Her screaming subsided, and she studied his face, her eyes wide with fear, her fingers clutching tightly to the sleeves of his sweater. “I d-d-don’t want to go, Jordan. I need you.”
Jordan had pulled her close, running his hand along her back. “Shh, Heidi, it’s okay. Pray to Jesus … ask Him to work it out so we’ll be back together soon.”
The sound of Heidi’s sobbing changed then and even at that age Faith could tell the fear was gone. In its place was a sadness that could simply not be measured. “I’m going to m-m-miss you, Jordan. I love you so much … ”
The memories were devastating, and Faith fell silent, not even wiping away the tears coursing down her cheeks.
“Faith, are you all right?”
She met Joshua’s concerned
gaze and nodded, grateful for his care. “I’m fine. It was just a terrible time. Even the social workers were crying before it was over. Jordan kissed Heidi on the top of her head and on both her cheeks and promised, no matter what, that they would be together again. In the end, he had to walk her to the worker’s car and hold her hand through the open window, clinging to her fingers until the car began to pull away and their hands came apart.”
Faith closed her eyes and she could see them as clearly now as she had back then. Jordan, sobs jerking his shoulders as he reached out to his sister; Heidi, her arm still sticking out, reaching back to her brother, tearstained face pressed against the back window as the car drove out of sight.
“It was one of the most awful things I’ve ever seen.” Faith opened her eyes and stared sadly at Joshua. “Something I’ll remember as long as I live.”
“What happened to Jordan?”
“After Heidi was gone, he fell against me, and I almost believed he might die from the grief. He kept asking me, over and over, if I believed they’d let Heidi and him be back together.”
“What did you say?”
Faith shrugged. “The only thing I could say. I told him to pray that God would bring Heidi back to him. He just had to trust and pray.”
She gazed at Joshua through another wave of tears. “You know what, though?”
Joshua bit his lip, and Faith saw that his eyes were wet too. “No one ever brought her back?”
Faith shook her head and glanced out the window once more. “He never saw her again, not once.” Her eyes found Joshua’s. “That boy prayed for his mother to live—I mean he prayed, like I’ve never seen before or since, Joshua. He prayed, and she died anyway.” She swallowed hard. “He prayed that way for Heidi, too … that’d he’d see her again, grow up with her, and look after her the way he’d promised his mother. But to this day he has no idea where she is or if she’s even still alive.”
She clenched her fists. “Maybe that’ll help you understand Jordan Riley a little better.”
A Kingsbury Collection Page 85