by Kat Brookes
Reaching across the table, Jake covered her hand with his in a supportive gesture. “Addy,” he said, the huskily spoken word filled with heartfelt empathy.
“Don’t,” she said firmly, yet she didn’t pull away from his gentle touch. “I don’t want anyone’s pity.”
He nodded in understanding, having felt that way himself, more often than not, after coming home. That’s why he hadn’t told his family about the true depth of his inner pain. About the tremendous guilt he harbored over the death of his friend. He didn’t want their pity. But it was so hard to suppress the emotions hearing about the life she had lived as a child had stirred in him. He hurt for her, for the little girl Addy had been. Felt anger that instead of playing dolls with her friends, she’d been cowering in her car from those who more than likely had wished to cause her harm.
“Where did your momma go that she left you alone in that car to fend for yourself?” Jake asked with a scowl.
“She was never too far away from where our car was parked, but she would be busy, earning money by washing storefront windows, sweeping floors inside those stores, even the sidewalks outside,” Addy explained. “When there was no work to be had, Momma would sit on our corner and ask people passing by for their spare change. I would sit there with her in the afternoons, under the shade of the building’s overhang. When it got too hot, we would slip inside one of the nearby stores to cool off.”
Jake closed his eyes, trying to block out the image of Addy as a little girl, begging for coins on some street corner. The Good Lord had surely known what He was doing when He’d sent her to live with Mrs. Tully. When Jake opened them, looking to Addy, he noted the faraway look in her pale eyes. He recognized that blank stare. He’d seen it in the mirror many times since coming home. Addy was, no doubt, replaying the painful pieces of her past in her mind. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, needing her to know he was there for her. Even if only through silent understanding.
Blinking, she looked at him, and her gaze, although misted over, was far more present. “I did what I did,” she said, “because I didn’t want Finn to grow up like I did.”
Amazing how a brief conversation could so completely alter one’s way of thinking, bring about such an onslaught of emotions and make one so very grateful for the life God had bestowed upon them. “I’m thankful he didn’t have to. Thank you for being there for Lila when she needed you the most.”
Surprise lit her face at his response. “I will always be there for her,” she replied with a sniffle. “I’m sorry,” she muttered as she swiped at the tears sliding down her cheeks with her free hand. “I’m normally not a crier. This is embarrassing.”
“You have no reason to be embarrassed. Cry all you want,” he told her, his tone gentle and soothing. “I had no idea you’d had to live that way.”
“Very few people do,” she admitted. “Mama Tully knew when they sent me to her. I opened up to Lila little by little, eventually telling her everything. But it took years for me to share more than just bits and pieces of my past with her. It’s not something I care to talk about.”
He understood more than she could know. And he wasn’t surprised that Addy had taken a while to tell even her best friend about her past. What strength that must have taken for her to speak about that time in her life, to Lila or anyone. How she’d lived in a car, her and her momma scraping by to survive. A car. He couldn’t even begin to imagine having lived like that, having been raised by two loving parents in a house that offered security and warmth. There had always been food on the table and clean clothes to wear. He’d had siblings to keep the loneliness at bay. And he’d been brought up with a deep-rooted faith that had given him both comfort and direction.
Addy finally pulled her hand away and lowered her gaze to his plate. “You should eat before your lunch gets cold.”
Jake felt her pulling away, locking that raw part of her heart behind that emotional wall that had protected her for so many years. And that was okay. He’d give her the reprieve she needed. When, and if, she was ready to talk more about her past, he would be there to support her.
“Lunch can wait,” he told her. “Knowing you’re okay is far more important than eating pot pie.”
* * *
She was more important. Oh, how those words came to Addy like a balm for her aching heart. “Thank you,” she said with a soft smile.
“If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you,” he said. “I know I haven’t been the friend I should have been.”
“For good reason,” she told him.
“But I was so caught up in my anger toward you, and then after this last devastating mission trip, my guilt, I wasn’t emotionally capable of being the man my daddy raised me to be. Addy, I forgive you. I’m sorry it took me so long to do so.”
She fought back another surge of tears. Why was it so hard to hold it together when she’d been so strong all her life? As that question came and went, something Jake said took its place. My guilt. She looked up at him from across the table. “You were there serving the Lord. You did nothing to deserve that ambush. There’s no reason for you to harbor any guilt for what happened.”
“Maybe not because of the ambush,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “But I feel it deep for being the reason a fellow volunteer I’d befriended died that day.”
“Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry,” Addy replied. “Lila didn’t mention anyone having died.”
“My family doesn’t know the details of that day,” he admitted. “Like you, I decided it was a part of my past better kept locked away.”
“Talk to me, Jake,” she pleaded. “Opening up to you lifted some of that weight that had been pressing on my heart for so long.”
Frowning, he said, “Corey and I were up on a scaffolding working together on one side of the schoolhouse. It was hot, and I was parched. I told him I needed to stop and take a break to grab a bottle of water and asked if he wanted one, too. He did and offered to take over the task I’d been working on while I went to get our drinks. I was only halfway down the ladder when shots rang out.” His eyes pinched shut. “He never made it out of the Congo.”
“Oh, Jake,” she groaned, hurting for him. Her stomach churned as she imagined what that moment had been like for him. The fear and the helplessness he must have felt.
“If I hadn’t offered to get us water,” Jake said with a slow shake of his head. “If I hadn’t switched places with him...”
“Then it would be your family in mourning right now,” she said softly. I would have been mourning your death, too. Addy could hardly bear the thought of how close she’d come to losing Jake. Losing his friendship was something she could find a way to deal with. But not to death. “I’m so sorry your friend died that day. My heart goes out to the family he left behind. But I’m so grateful you made it home to us.”
“Addy, I can’t stop thinking about that day. I should have died, not Corey,” he said, the words taut with emotion.
“Jake, neither of you should have died that day,” she told him. “And while it’s been years since I went to church, I know that when it’s our time to go be with God, it’s our time. The Lord had bigger and better things He needed your friend for.”
“I know that,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t make this any easier to deal with.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through something so devastating. Have you thought about talking to someone?”
“I am,” he murmured. “I’m talking to you.”
“I was referring to a therapist,” Addy clarified.
“I don’t need professional help,” he said with a frown.
“Lila and Mama Tully aren’t the only ones who knew about my past before today,” she admitted. “I went to see a therapist after I went back to live with Momma again. She and I even went together for a while as we worked toward mending the broken pieces of our relationship. There is no shame in s
eeking help. Doing so helped me to face a lot of my past. And if not a therapist, then consider talking to Reverend Hutchins.”
He was silent for a long moment before finally nodding.
“You will?” she asked, relief washing over her.
“I won’t count it out,” he told her. “To be honest, opening up to you about what happened has already eased some of that unrelenting pain and guilt I’ve been feeling.”
“I feel the same way,” she said with a smile.
“I’ve missed you.”
His admission had both surprise and joy surging through her. “You have?”
He nodded. “More than I wanted to.”
Her heart did a hopeful little flip.
“If you have time available while you’re still in town,” he went on, “and are still willing, I’d like to see about rebuilding our friendship.”
“I have the time,” she said, sending a silent prayer of thanks Heavenward. “And I’d love to find our way back to where we once were.”
He returned her smile. “So would I.”
Chapter Nine
“Another delicious lunch,” Jake said as Addy rolled him out onto the back porch and down the ramp into the sunshine.
“I’m glad you are enjoying my cooking skills,” she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
Jake glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Would you like to take a ride in the Gator?”
She set the brakes and stepped around his chair to face him. “I have a better idea.”
“Better than an ATV ride?” he said, pretending to seriously mull the possibilities over.
“Let’s just say I think we could have fun doing it,” she offered.
“You’re taking me skydiving?”
“Not in this lifetime,” she said with an adamant shake of her head.
“Because you’re afraid of heights?” he asked with a teasing grin.
“That would no doubt come into play,” she agreed. “But I think the more obvious obstacle here is the fact that you have a broken leg.”
He nodded. “I suppose that could make the landing part a bit rough. I guess that also rules out our going to a trampoline park.”
“Jake,” she said with a giggle.
He chuckled. “Okay, what’s the plan for this afternoon?”
“I thought it might be nice if we went over to the market and gave your momma a hand with things over there.”
His boyish grin sagged. “Addy, I’m stuck in this wheelchair and have one arm in a sling. How much help can I be?”
“There are a lot of things you can do to help her out,” she told him. “Like printing labels and seeing to some of the market’s accounting paperwork. You could even offer to have your momma place the heavier boxes on your lap and then push you to wherever she needs to restock in the store, instead of her having to carry them herself. Some of them can be pretty heavy.”
His frustration eased at her words. “I could do that,” he decided with a nod.
“You can do anything you set your mind to, Jake Landers,” she told him.
“You make me feel that way,” he said as they started across the yard.
Addy smiled, her heart soaking up his words.
“I’ve been so caught up in what I can’t do since coming home,” Jake said, “that I never stopped to consider what I could do. Like helping out Momma.” He sighed. “I should have thought of this myself.”
“You needed rest to help you regain your strength after you came home,” she reminded him. “But you’re growing stronger every day.”
“It does feel like I’ve turned a corner.”
Thank the Lord for that.
Addy pushed the chair up onto the market’s porch, using the handicap access ramp, excited to be getting Jake to be more involved in the family business. She knew how much he’d missed contributing to it during his recovery. Stopping just outside the door, she stepped around the chair and knelt before him. “You are here to help now,” she said softly. “And your momma is going to be so excited to have you working with her. So stop wasting your energy on woulda, coulda, shouldas. Lord knows we both have done far too much of that, because wishing it so isn’t going to change the past.”
Jake’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are when you’re determined to get a point across?”
Pretty? Jake thinks I’m pretty? Shaking her head, Addy said with an embarrassed smile, “No.”
“Well, now you have.”
Addy fought to control her reaction to his unexpected compliment, seeing as how she suddenly felt as giddy as a schoolgirl inside. Maybe Lila was right in her assessment of Addy’s heart. She took in the man seated in the wheelchair before her. Although temporarily laid low by his injuries, Jake Landers was still a man of strength, tall like his brother and broad-shouldered. And quite handsome.
“Uh, do I have something on my face?” Jake asked with a grin as he took a swipe over his mouth with his free hand. “Mayonnaise from my sandwich, maybe? I did have a little trouble using the squirt bottle with my less dominant hand.”
Addy pulled her gaze away from his face, feeling her cheeks warm as she straightened. “Your face is just fine,” she answered as she turned to open the door.
“I thought you’d never notice,” he muttered behind her.
Addy didn’t have to see his face to know that Jake was grinning from ear to ear. She felt a tug at her own mouth as she reached out to open the market’s front entry door.
It opened on its own, startling Addy.
“Well, hello, you two,” Mrs. Landers greeted them with a delighted grin. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
“Addy suggested we come over and lend a hand for a bit this afternoon,” Jake told her.
She looked to Addy. “That was sweet of you.” Her gaze swung back to Jake. “But are you sure you’re up for it? You’re welcome to just visit if you like. We’re slow today, so I’m working on restocking some of our fall products.”
“I’m not here to visit,” Jake told her, exchanging a glance with Addy. “I’m here to help with whatever I can.”
Addy smiled, hearing the newfound confidence in his tone. She had helped to give him that and it made her feel so good inside. Not to mention how proud she was of Jake for pushing past the darkness that had been swallowing him up and taking this step toward getting his life back.
“Well, come on in,” his momma said, stepping aside so that Addy could push Jake’s chair into the building. “I was just running over to the house to box up those pies I made last night. The ones Mason carried over for me this morning are nearly gone.”
“I’d be happy to go get them for you,” Addy offered.
“You two just got here,” Mrs. Landers said. “I’ll run over. I want to grab my sweater anyway. It gets a bit chilly in the market with the air on. I forgot to bring it over with me this morning. Be right back.”
Addy then turned to close the door behind his momma. When she swung back around to face Jake, she found him staring off into the market as if he’d never seen it before.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’ve always taken this place for granted, because it’s been in the family for as long as I can remember. To think it took nearly dying to realize how much the orchard and this market really mean to me.” He shook his head and added with a bit more of a pull to his voice, “I came so close to never being here again.”
“Thank the Lord you are,” Addy said, his reminder of how close she came, they all came, to losing him, bringing a sting of tears to her eyes. To think that he might have died without knowing just how very much he meant to her.
When he fell silent, Addy glanced Jake’s way. “Speaking of God, your momma told me you haven’t been going to church with them. Is it because of Core
y?”
He frowned. “It was a senseless death. Corey was there to serve God. So, yes, I’ve not been in a good place since coming home when it comes to my relationship with God.”
Just like her own momma. Yet not. Jake had been raised with a strong Christian family and beliefs. Her momma hadn’t been. For Addy, not going to church was something she’d accepted for her momma’s sake. But for him to turn away from the Lord filled Addy with so much sadness for him.
“Jake,” she said gently, her voice filled with compassion. “God isn’t to blame for the evil that happens in the world.” It was the same thing she’d said to her momma after they’d been reunited, but words couldn’t change her momma’s way of thinking. But Jake, coming from the family he did, had to know it for the truth it was. “That’s something I learned attending your daddy’s Sunday services when I lived here. Church is a place to find healing. To find comfort. To find hope.”
He looked up at her, one lone brow lifting. “If you feel that way in your heart, why haven’t you been attending services with Mama Tully during your visit here?”
The question took her aback, even though she’d just pressed him about the very same thing. Lila had been trying to convince Addy to get back to church ever since she’d reconciled with Mason and renewed her own faith that past summer. “Did your momma say something about my not going?” Worry filled her. Had she disappointed Mrs. Landers yet again by not attending Sunday services?
“Not Momma. Finn,” he answered before she could finish her question. “He was talking about the windows at the front of the church because they were all different colors, but that his aunt Addy doesn’t visit the Lord’s house. She prays at home instead.”