by Leah Atwood
“And you still haven’t heard anything more, so you felt the need to come and tell me now.” It wasn’t a question but more a statement of fact. No accusations, no anger.
Nick nodded silently.
“Do they know what happened?” That would explain why I haven’t received any text messages or phone calls from Ryan. I also knew Ryan didn’t take his cell phone on his missions.
“They believe the chopper went down in an area with a very rough, rugged terrain. There was a mayday signal, so that indicates a system or equipment malfunction as opposed to enemy fire. So, it’s entirely possible they parachuted out.”
“Is there a chance…?” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“POW? Yes, unfortunately, there’s always the chance they’ve been captured.” Nick breathed out a long sigh and rubbed one hand over his forehead, back and forth. “Honestly, Ellie, I don’t know which is the better option.”
I couldn’t dwell on that statement. Swallowing hard, I needed to push on. “I think, for now, we need to focus on the positive. Do they have any evidence of a crash?”
“No. The Army assured us they’re doing everything they can to find them. So far they’ve come up empty-handed. I guess it’s a tricky area to try and search without drawing undue attention. That’s hampering their efforts.”
“How are your parents handling it?” This must be torturous for them.
“As well as can be expected. There’s no rule book for something like this. Kind of hard to know what to do, what to think, what to do next. So, we’re going through the motions. Mom was going to come and tell you, but I offered.”
“I’m glad you did.” I smacked my hand on the arm of my chair with such force that Nick visibly jumped, and my hand stung. “I’m going to put this request on the prayer chain immediately, and I think we should get our friends and neighbors together tonight for a special prayer circle. That’s the first thing we need to do.”
Nick gave me a slow nod. “Sure. I think that’s a great idea, Ellie. Ryan would like it, I’m sure.”
“You and I both know the power of prayer, Nick.” What I wouldn’t say is that we both also knew that prayer couldn’t always bring people back who’d been lost to us for one reason or another. Prayer didn’t guarantee relationships would be reconciled, or that bodies would be mended. But prayer is the best thing we have. Always. I know God hears our prayers. Sometimes He chooses not to answer them in our time, but in His own perfect timing. Or in a way we can never expect.
Nick rose from the chair. “I’ll have Mom make a few calls. Come to the house at seven tonight and we’ll have that prayer circle. If you want me to come get you, I will.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m sure I can make it on my own.”
“You’re a strong woman, Ellie. I know that’s one of the many qualities my little brother loves most about you. You might consider going home until…”
Tears stung my eyes as I rose to my feet. “I need to stay in the house I’m going to share with Ryan. That’s my home. And you’d better get out of here now before I bawl all over the place and spoil your image of me. I can promise you, it won’t be pretty.”
Nick opened his arms and pulled me into his comforting embrace. “Ellie, I’m here if you need me. So is Maura, Mom, and everyone else.” He patted my back a few times like I imagined a big brother would do.
Sniffling, I nodded and pulled out of the hug. “Same here for you. We’re in this together. I just need time to absorb this information. Ryan’s got to be okay. I can’t believe anything differently.”
Nick tilted his head, surveying me, compassion brimming in his expression. “Did you drive? I can drive you home if you’d like.”
“No, thanks. You know how I love to walk, and I’ve never minded the cold.” Something about the brisk air and the snow energizes me.
“You sure you’re going to be okay until tonight?”
I forced my chin into the air with more courage than I felt. “No, but I have to be.”
“If I hear anything, I’ll call you right away. Keep the faith,” Nick said, his voice quiet.
“I plan on it. You, too.” My voice caught and a tear streaked down my face. “If he were gone, I’d know it in my heart, Nick. Ryan’s out there somewhere, and you don’t know how much I hate it that I can’t jump on a plane and go find him myself.”
Nick nodded. “I’m sure you would if you could, Ellie. I would, too.”
“I know.” We shared a nod of understanding.
“I’ll see you at seven tonight.” With a small salute, Nick turned to go. Then he looked back at me.
“Get out of here,” I whispered. “Please just go.”
With the saddest expression I’ve ever seen, he nodded. Nick hurt as much as I did, but I simply didn’t know what else I could say.
~~♥~~
I’d left the puppy dog Ellie had given me in the office. I reached for him behind my desk and rested my head on his plush fur, allowing my tears to flow freely. I sobbed, and it brought back the pain of losing my father. But this was a fresh pain, a new kind of pain. It hurt every bit as much, but in a different way.
Be still, child, and know that I am God.
The ladies at the nursing facility believe I’m strong. Nick believes I’m strong. My dad thought I was strong. My mom has always called me strong. Ryan knows I’m strong.
So, I was outnumbered. I needed to be…strong. I closed my eyes. “Lord, help me. I’m not sure I know how to be strong right now.”
Lay your burdens at my feet, child. I will carry you.
I lowered my head and prayed. Prayed as hard and as long as I’d ever done in my entire life.
Maybe it was a good thing that Maura was out doing her Christmas shopping or she might have been in the office with me, wrapping up the accounting work for this year. Part of me wished she were here. The other part of me was thankful for the solitude. I wouldn’t be good company right now. I was numb, and I didn’t know what to feel.
All I know is that I felt better after my good cry and then my time of prayer. I’d needed both for my heart, my mind, and my soul.
An hour later, I wasn’t sure where to go. I didn’t want to go home yet.
I walked through the streets of town and my steps, seemingly of their own accord, took me to the nursing home. I barely acknowledged the greetings of the staffers as they passed by me in the hallway. I caught some of the looks they exchanged, but I had a one-track mind as I made my way straight to Cora’s room. No way could I explain my mood (if they hadn’t already heard), and I’d break down if anyone expressed sympathy.
After closing the door (something I never did), I stumbled and collapsed into a chair. Without removing my coat, I scooted the chair to the side of the bed.
“Ryan’s helicopter has gone missing.” I heard myself saying the words as thought I were in a fog or a bubble hovering above Cora’s bed. I’ve never experienced such a weird sensation—like I was present but also not there.
Taking Cora’s hand in my own, I held on tight. Then I realized I was squeezing too tight and lessened my grip. “Oh, Cora. I’m so sorry.”
I smoothed the top of her soft blanket with my other hand. “Is this blanket new? Did your daughter bring it for you?” That was highly doubtful, sadly enough. I needed to keep talking. Anything to numb my brain from worrying about Ryan and dissolving into a puddle of tears.
“I’ve always loved this shade of pink in your blanket. My mom has a Murano glass conch shell she brought home from her trip to Venice before she married Dad. It’s this same color. So pretty.”
I blew out a long breath, feeling the urge to talk. “I might as well continue my story from last week.”
And so, I began.
Chapter 18
~~♥~~
For a couple of weeks after my father died, I moped around the house and cried a lot. My sisters cried on their boyfriends’ shoulders, and I cried all over Ryan. He must have thought I was disgusting
because I slobbered all over his shirt on at least three occasions, but he took it like a man.
Ryan’s house had a circular driveway which my mother considered the height of sophistication. She’d asked my dad a few times if we could have one made in front of our house. I never understood what was so great about it, but Mom never got her circular driveway. After Dad died, she bought a new BMW convertible in a gorgeous baby blue color with gray leather seats. In my opinion, that car was much better than a circular driveway any old day of the week. Who wouldn’t want a car with a heater that warmed up your seat in the winter?
Kara told me some of the ladies in church whispered behind Mom’s back that she’d squandered some of Dad’s life insurance money to buy the BMW, but it was her money to spend however she wanted. Sometimes people could be incredibly insensitive. If I were Mom, I’d have driven up and down the street in that shiny new car, waving like the queen, smiling like I hadn’t a care in the world with the top of the car down, and my hair flying in the wind. More power to her. She was only 47, and she’d lost her husband. She deserved everything life had to offer.
“Isn’t that taking it a bit far?” Ryan said when I made the mistake of telling him my revenge fantasy. He’d looked up the price of the car and made me mad when he made it sound like he didn’t approve. It wasn’t his business, and it was no one’s business but Mom’s.
“Stop being so goody-goody all the time,” I’d said to him. “Not to mention cheap.” In a huff, I walked away and didn’t speak to him for an entire week. Childish yes, but I had a point to prove.
Our house was always in need of repairs to the roof, the appliances, back porch, the patio, and any number of things. Maybe I noticed them because I didn’t have a father to fix the things that were broken anymore. Or maybe it was more that Mom ignored them and didn’t address the issues. About a month after Dad’s death, the Sullivan men, Ryan and Nick’s dad included, volunteered to help us around the house.
So, in the name of friendship and Christian charity, the Sullivan men dutifully traipsed over to our house every other Saturday afternoon to see what needed to be done. In my opinion, Mom lapped up the attention and created things for them to do. She’d never admit it, but I suspected she was lonely. And to their credit, I never heard them complain.
Without wanting to be an obvious tagalong, I sometimes helped Ryan when he was working at our house. I missed his company, and I sensed we were growing apart in some ways. He treated me the same as ever, teased me like always. Even though only a year separated us in terms of age, I felt as though Ryan was somehow leaving me behind.
In addition to being a star athlete at school, Ryan held down a part-time job at Cade’s Corner Hardware a couple of nights a week. How the guy earned stellar grades was beyond me with all he did.
I knew Ryan had started dating (and going to proms and maybe other dances) even though he never said anything to me about it. I didn’t want to think about it. Brandon Harrison started dropping broad hints that he wanted to date me, but I told him my Mom wouldn’t allow me to date until I was older—like 30—and that took care of that. If I were honest with myself, I didn’t want to date anyone. Not that Ryan was perfect, but for better or worse, all of my teenage daydreams involved Ryan.
One afternoon, I walked home from a drugstore on the outskirts of town, my twice-a-week, one-mile walk when I’d buy a roll of Sweet Tarts and one of those silly teen fan magazines (“mags” as those in the know call them). My route home took me past Ryan’s house. As I walked closer, I spied Ryan leaning against his red Ford F-150 truck, his pride and joy. He wasn’t alone.
Slowing my steps, I tried not to stare, but my curiosity was killing me.
Great. Carli Jenkins. I thought I’d be sick right then and there.
Carli was gorgeous, and every guy in school wanted to date her—curvy cheerleader with pretty, long blonde hair who wore her sweaters two sizes too small and had “legs that wouldn’t quit” according to the boys. I hated that expression, especially since I’m vertically challenged. Honestly, Carli was too sweet for me to hate, but I detested how she stared adoringly at Ryan with big google eyes. Gag me. As if he could do no wrong. As if he was the most handsome boy on the face of the planet.
He kind of was, actually. Senior. Star athlete. Great student. Perfect guy.
“Sass, what’s your problem?” Ryan said the next Saturday afternoon. He’d come over to the house to repair something or other. I can’t remember what it was, but Mom always had a running list. Sometimes I think she took advantage of their generosity. It’s not like Dad didn’t leave us financially secure, at least from what I knew. Unless that BMW cost way more than I realized.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” For once, I walked away and ignored him until he cornered me a few minutes later on the back porch.
“I think you have a problem.” Ryan’s grin was too smug for my liking. “Admit it. You’re jealous that I was talking to Carli.” Crossing his arms, Ryan blocked my way when I tried to get past him.
“Do you mind?” I gestured for him to move.
“Yeah, I kind of do. We need to talk about this.”
“Fine. Talk.” Mirroring him, I crossed my arms and pushed my long hair (I’d been growing it out, and it reached almost to my waist) behind my shoulders. “I am not jealous. But I know you can do better than date a girl who has zero ambition.”
“Yeah, right. Carli’s the prettiest girl in school, and that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Besides, you can’t know whether or not she has ambition. Don’t go making judgments.” He stepped closer, making me back up a few steps. “I hate to break it to you, but not every girl wants to be Amelia Earhart.”
“I never said I wanted to be Amelia Earhart.” I raised my chin in defiance. “I said I wanted to make a difference.”
“Whatever.” Ryan shrugged in that annoying way he had of doing. He knew that was a word that riled me as much, if not more, than any other. It signified apathy and indifference, which I hated with a passion. We’d had an entire discussion about that word.
“Okay, I can admit Carli’s pretty.” Could he possibly understand how magnanimous I was to acknowledge that much? “I’m not judging, but is she a Christian? As I remember, you gave me the big speech about how you’d only date Christians.”
He frowned. “I’m working on that.”
“Ah, so now you’re missionary dating?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t start with me, Ellie. That’s between me and God.”
“Shouldn’t it be between God and me?”
“What are you talking about?” His eyes sparked with fire and his agitation was obvious.
“You put yourself first. And grammatically—”
Ryan’s lips thinned. “Ellie, get off your high horse and leave me alone.”
“You disappoint me, Ryan.”
“Yeah? Well, you’ll get over it.”
I pushed past him, and he let me go.
That wasn’t the first time I’d cried over Ryan Joseph Sullivan, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. More than anything, I hated being mad at him.
That night, I made a pact with God. Well, not really a pact. More like a promise. I told the Almighty that I’d settle for friendship with Ryan if that’s all He wanted for us. “Please help me not to push Ryan away with my pettiness, Lord,” I prayed. “We both have tempers and say things we don’t mean sometimes. I’m sorry, and please forgive me.” I hesitated. “And be with Ryan. Help him to know I care about him, and I don’t like it when we’re not speaking.”
Two weeks later, we’d still barely spoken to one another except in passing at both school and church. I was miserable, but I figured by his silence that Ryan couldn’t care less. He’d obviously moved on. I was just that jealous little girl from the other side of the street.
I’d found raking to be therapeutic. Heaven knows, we have a lot of tall trees in our backyard. Enough to keep me busy for a long time. The only down
side was that my thoughts always seemed to focus on Ryan while I was working.
Ryan marched up to me one evening after dinner when I was raking leaves in our backyard. The crunching of the leaves warned me of his approach. In his official letterman jacket and jeans, he made quite a handsome picture.
Be still my heart.
“Give me that.” Yanking the rake from my hands, Ryan started his task with determined strokes. Ryan was a hard worker, but this was ridiculous.
“Hello to you, too. What’s gotten into you?” I tugged off my gloves and offered them to him. “Here, take these. I wouldn’t want those gifted hands to get blisters, or it might affect your ability to catch a pass. A football pass that is,” I added. What a snit. Why couldn’t I learn to control my tongue around Ryan?
“Thanks for thinking of my welfare.” Taking the gloves from me, he pulled them on. Then he started raking again with even more fervor. When Ryan seemed unwilling to talk, I set off for the garage to grab the box of leaf bags and another pair of work gloves.
We worked together in silence for at least 15 minutes. Smoke curled from the chimney of the house next door, and I breathed in deeply. I’ve always loved the scents of the fall season.
“Just so you know, I’m not dating her.”
“Who?” I continued to gather leaves and avoided glancing his way.
“You know very well who. Carli Jenkins.” I could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Doesn’t matter to me.” I shrugged my shoulders and refused to look at him although my heart was doing a little dance. Where this conversation would lead was anyone’s guess.
“Oh, yeah, I think it does.” Tossing down the rake, Ryan stomped over to me. As he started to yank off the gloves, he frowned when he had trouble with the right one.
“Need a little help?”
“Very funny. I’ll get it.” With a grunt, he pulled off the offending glove.
I stopped my leaf-gathering, and my heart pounded so loud I knew Ryan must surely hear it. “What’s your problem? And why bother asking me when you seem to know all the answers?” My sarcasm was going to get the best of me, something Staci liked to remind me of quite often.