Maybe Kyle had just tried to stop it the best way he knew how. Maybe he thought that if he stayed away, he could stave off the inevitable. Maybe his running just took him farther and kept him longer than he could control. She would give him the chance to explain his side of things, because she wanted him to say what she needed him to say and because she was in no position to judge. She knew the feeling of wanting away from pain, of avoiding it. She’d avoided coming to Sunset even though Ryan had made it possible. And even when she’d come here, she’d still avoided this place that held so many tender memories. There was some reason Kyle had returned to Sunset, and Emily suspected she knew what it was. She’d let him tell her first.
She watched as the wind picked up the sea foam and blew it into the air, there one minute, gone the next. “We are but a vapor.” She could hear the verse in her father’s deep timbre, echoing in her heart.
“I will always miss you,” she said aloud. “And I hope you can see that I’m okay. And that I love the house. Thank you. I will use it well.”
She was walking down the beach in the direction of her house when she felt his answer return to her: Use it to go on with your life. She picked up her pace, a hopeful smile on her face as she walked toward her future.
Twenty-Six
July 20, 2007
It was fitting that she returned home to find Amber holding the plaque she’d brought with her, her fingertips tracing the words from Jeremiah 29:11. She looked up with a guilty expression when she heard Emily come in, nearly dropping the plaque back on the shelf where it had sat since she arrived.
“Sorry I was messing with your stuff,” Amber said.
Emily shook her head. “No biggie. You didn’t hurt it.”
“Do you believe that? What that plaque says?” Amber followed her into the kitchen and watched as she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long drink before answering.
“Yes, of course. I’m a preacher’s kid. Jeremiah 29:11 is one of the verses you have to have memorized by age ten.” Amber’s wide eyes told her she didn’t realize she was just kidding. “Kidding! I’m kidding!” She held up her hand and laughed.
“I guess it’s obvious I haven’t spent much time in church.” Amber gave a little forced laugh. “But I think it’s cool you have. You know a lot about Bible stuff, huh?”
Emily nodded. “I do.”
“And you think it helps? To know that stuff?”
Emily wondered how to respond. Did her Bible knowledge help her in life? Maybe if she relied on it like she should, reacting in truth instead of emotion, reciting scripture instead of running off at the mouth. She could do better at that stuff. Did it help in the face of loss? She wasn’t someone who grieved without hope because she had the hope of salvation. She could pray whenever she felt uncertain or worried or just grateful. She had the confidence that came from knowing she was never truly alone. She grinned at Amber. “Yeah. It helps.”
“Maybe you could teach me some of that stuff sometime.”
“What if I found you a place to live until your baby is born? A place where you could learn that stuff while you’re getting ready for him or her?”
A stricken look crossed Amber’s face. “You don’t want me here?”
“No, it’s not that. I just have to go back. This isn’t my home. I’m just here for the summer. I’ve got a job and a life, parents, at home. I have to get back there and I can’t just leave you here. I’m trying to get my father’s church to help me find a home for girls . . . in your situation to live.”
Amber slumped down in a chair at the kitchen table and dropped her head into her hands. “They won’t let me in there. I’m not . . . like them.”
Emily crossed over to stoop down in front of her. “You don’t have to be like them. You just have to be your adorable self.” Emily put her hands on Amber’s knees and tried to get her to look at her, but it was no use.
“I thought about getting rid of it. Like really thought about it. Like—” She looked up at Emily. “I made an appointment and everything. Even after we saw that ultrasound. I knew it had a beating heart and I still dialed that number.”
Emily refused to let on how shocked she was by Amber’s admission. She’d thought the girl had been determined to have her child from the beginning. “But you didn’t go through with it,” she said evenly.
Amber shook her head and covered her face with her hands, rocking back and forth. “But I knew if I got rid of it, I could hang on to him a little while longer. I was that stupid.”
Emily grabbed Amber’s hands and pulled them away from her face. Her heavily mascaraed eyes were starting to run because of her unspilled tears, giving her the raccoon effect. Her eyes were the color of a mountain stream she and Ryan had found on a weekend trip to Boone, the water reflecting the bright green algae below. “But you didn’t. You did the right thing. And you’re doing the right thing now. You care more for this baby than you care for yourself, and that is so very brave.”
Amber glanced over at the plaque. “Do you believe that even I have a hope and a future? Even with this?” She gestured at her stomach.
Emily smiled and wrapped her arms around the girl. “Oh, honey,” she said. “I believe we all do.” She pulled back and looked at her. “And I’m going to make sure you find yours.”
As she walked to the bridge that night she thought about hope and the future. She had known that verse all her life, had believed in it right up to the moment Ryan died. For a while it had seemed her future and her hope had died right along with him. It was really only as she’d been at Sunset—meeting Kyle, helping Amber, hanging out with Claire—that she’d started to feel hope and see a future without Ryan. She’d spent so much time convinced that Ryan had given her this house, but she hadn’t been thinking big enough. She’d lost sight of the fact that God had made all of this happen. This new place and these new people she’d found in the midst of her grief had been put in her life for such a time as this. The perfect time. She didn’t know how her conversation with Kyle would go, and yet it didn’t matter. If she believed what she’d said to Amber, then she could count on more to come. God loved her enough—more than Ryan ever thought about loving her—to make sure of it.
She thought about her mother’s phone call this evening. She’d been happy to hear she was coming home soon for a visit. And, thanks to Marta, she’d heard about Amber and was making calls to find a place she could get in. “Marta says she’s just a lovely girl in a terrible circumstance,” her mother said, tsk-tsking as only she could do. “You know, you do have a spare bedroom at your house.”
“Mom, I’m not going to be fully responsible for this girl. She needs a lot more than I can give her.” In case you haven’t noticed, she refrained from saying, I’ve only been hanging on by a very slim thread. Let’s not put this girl at risk just in case.
“I guess you’re right. It was just an idea.”
“I’m not running a maternity home for unwed teens,” Emily quipped and her mother chuckled.
“Okay, I get it. I think I’ve got a lovely place she can go. It’s not far. You could visit.”
“That would be great, Mom. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, honey. I’m always glad to help.”
The time away from her parents had given her a fresh perspective on them too. When she got back she was going to thank them for standing by her the way they did, for being such wonderful, if imperfect, parents. She would tell her father some of what she’d learned about God during her summer at Sunset, share her insights about how He had been faithful even when she wasn’t. She sensed that her dad needed to hear that.
She walked across the bridge to the tender house, hugging the side of the road as close as she could in case a car came across. It wasn’t very wide and didn’t leave much room for pedestrians. She paused at the door and whispered, “Here goes nothing,” which was a type of prayer in itself. And then she knocked with a boldness and certainty she didn’t possess. But she was
learning that you didn’t have to have it to begin with. You just had to make a move toward it.
“I’m glad you came,” he said after he’d found her a seat in the tiny office area. The room was tidy and orderly.
“I’m glad you asked.”
“You were? I didn’t know how you’d feel. Claire certainly made her feelings known, and I didn’t know if that would scare you off.”
“Actually, Claire never told me about what happened before. After I got your note I made her tell me.”
He nodded, his face pensive. “And even after hearing from Claire you still came? Impressive.”
“It was what you said in your note. That you have a side too.”
He nodded again. “I do. It’s not a pretty side, but it’s a side.”
“So tell me.”
“I was a stupid kid who believed people who know how to make promises. I never intended to stay. I was like a gambler who goes to Las Vegas to hit it big and then come home. The problem was I kept saying, ‘Just one more hand.’ ”
“So you stayed longer.”
“Much longer. There was always another print ad they wanted me to model for. And then they started sending me out on auditions. The movie one was just a lark. It wasn’t ever supposed to be anything. And then one audition led to the next one, and the next one, and the next thing I knew I got the lead. Everyone called it a Cinderella story and—aside from the obvious feminine implications I didn’t care for—it was true.” He smiled and she smiled back.
“And what about Lily?” Emily couldn’t be certain because the lighting was dim, but she thought she saw him wince at the sound of her name.
“I loved her,” he said. “Yeah, sure, we were just kids and what did we know and all that. But I’m not a kid anymore. And I know how I felt about Lily. It was real. I know that now, more than ever.” He gave a little ironic laugh.
“Then what happened?”
“Well, the movie offer was good. Way more money than I’d ever see back here tending this bridge like my father and grandfather before me. I honestly thought that I’d do this one last thing, cash out, and head home. It’s why I changed my name, so I could come back here and just be Kyle again. That was always my plan, to come back. But then Lily got sick and I was under contract. They basically owned me. And I couldn’t get back to be with her. I guess Claire will never forgive me for that. Not that I blame her.”
Emily gave him a cryptic look. “You’re leaving out Xandra.”
He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Of course Claire had to include that. Not surprised.”
Emily made a get-on-with-it motion with her hand and he laughed. “You’re not going to believe this because no one ever does, but Xandra and I were always just friends. The press made a big deal out of us, and our publicists and agents thought it was a good idea to let them because it meant more attention for the movie. Xandra’s very hands-on, shall we say, the touchy-feely type, but no one knew that about her yet. And it made it look like we were together, I guess. The press will go with anything. So when they started speculating on the nature of our relationship, we let them. We knew the truth. And I figured as long as I told Lily what was going on and was honest with her, it would be okay. And it might’ve been if she hadn’t been sick. And had Claire constantly in her ear.”
“Did she ever know the truth?”
He reached over to the desk and tugged open a drawer, pulling a small velvet box out. “I brought this up here tonight in hopes you’d come and I could show you. Prove to you I’m not the guy Claire says I am.” He opened the box to reveal a huge diamond ring. Though Emily was not usually impressed by such things, she knew enough to inhale sharply at the sight of it. “All that time I was working, I was saving for this.” He thought about it. “And putting aside enough money to set us up in life. I figured if I played my cards right, Lily and I could have a nice life and I could still tend this bridge I love.” He looked at the ring for a moment and snapped the box shut. “I got it half right.”
A lump formed in Emily’s throat. “Did she ever get to see it?”
He nodded and closed his fingers around the velvet, the box nearly disappearing inside his large hand. “She did. I came as soon as I could. Asked her to marry me right there in the hospital.” He paused and Emily knew he was remembering, as she was, standing beside a hospital bed, watching someone you love slip away to a place you cannot follow. He spoke again. “She was so sick by then, fighting to stay conscious.” He chuckled. “She turned me down.”
Emily twisted the ring on her left hand, around and around. “My husband died,” she said.
He nodded. “I know. I’ve just been waiting for you to tell me. When you were ready. Then I thought that maybe I should go first.”
She shifted in her chair, picked at a stray hangnail before looking back at him, a confession weighing on her in the midst of all his honesty. “Well, since we’re confessing, I wrote a note on the state site saying that I thought the bridge was a danger, after that scare with Amber that night. I was upset and I wanted to complain to someone. I—”
He smiled. “I know. I saw it. You left your name.”
She laughed. “And you don’t hate me?”
He shrugged. “You had a point. And that was only further proved when that house burned down.” He swept his arm to take in the room where they now sat. “It’s over. I accept that. You didn’t do that.” He gave her a serious look. “You’re not responsible.”
“But you’re out of a job.”
“Maybe I’ll go back to modeling.” He flexed and posed, making her laugh.
“Do you know what you’ll do? For real?”
He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s not talk about real life tonight. Tonight I want to take you on the ride of your life. Something very few people get to do.” He called down to the other guy who was working with him, Dan, and asked him to open the bridge.
“Now?” Dan called up the narrow winding metal staircase from the room below them where the equipment used to open the bridge was housed. He’d been politely making himself scarce while they talked. Kyle began pressing buttons on the control board and then ushered them outside. He instructed her where to stand and warned her to hang on. She obeyed, gripping the railing as the lights flashed, warning traffic that the bridge was about to open. But it was late and there was no traffic, and before she knew it the clanking, groaning metal indicated the bridge was opening. It moved slowly at first, then picked up speed as it began to swing outward, gliding across the water, making waves as the waters parted in the darkness. In the moonlight she could see his face as he stood beside her against the railing, see him smiling at her reaction. Together, they hung on tight.
“I’m absolutely not supposed to be doing this.” He laughed as they began to move.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble!” she protested.
He put his arm around her for a moment. Then removed it so quickly she was uncertain that it had really happened. “What are they going to do, fire me?”
She laughed as she felt the night air whoosh across her cheeks and then a slight jolt when the bridge got to where it was going and stilled. They stood watching the dark water churn underneath them and inside her, she felt her heart lift, and open wide. But this time instead of sadness coming out, she felt joy flowing in. She looked in the direction of where her dock was, thinking of these lights she’d stared at in the distance so many nights, never even daring to dream that anything like this could happen.
She looked up at him, and thought of that moment on the dock when she’d told him she wasn’t ready to kiss him. She didn’t know his sad story and he didn’t know hers, she’d said. And in a way, she’d been right to tell him that they needed to know each other better. Because their stories had shaped who they were. And she didn’t want to be involved with anyone who didn’t know about the love she’d had, and the love she’d lost. Ryan had changed her forever. And Lily had changed him. Later she would tell Kyle that when she and
Ryan used to talk about children, the name Lily was at the top of the girl names’ list. Somehow it just all fit together. She wouldn’t try to make sense of it. She’d just enjoy the ride.
She felt his hands on either side of her face, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up at him, the moon bright in the sky above his head, glinting on the dark water. They blinked at each other in the darkness, silent for a moment before he leaned forward, his mouth close to hers as he whispered, “I’m not going to ask this time” just before he pressed his lips to hers, cautious and tentative. They stayed that way, frozen for a moment as her mind reeled. She was grateful that she wasn’t the first to pull away.
“Was that okay?” he asked, sounding so uncertain she nearly laughed.
Instead she just smiled up at him. “It was very okay.” He hugged her, swallowing her up in his strong arms, making her feel that she could disappear there, safe and protected. The fear of losing played at the edges of her mind, as she suspected it always would, but she pushed it away. She couldn’t live in fear of losing. She just had to enjoy what she had without worrying about the future. She would cross that bridge if and when she came to it. She smiled to herself, there in Kyle’s arms. Bridge. It all came back to that.
When she got home she would talk to her father about all she had learned about bridges this summer. She would share with him what she’d learned about God too. She’d discovered that people don’t make good bridges. They were kind of like the old bridge—unsafe, unreliable, unstable. If you counted on other people to get you where you were going, you’d be disappointed. The only way you could safely get from one place to the other was to count on God to get you there. She would tell her father that losing Ryan had shown her where to put her trust, and to not be afraid of what waited on the other side. God had used this summer to link where she’d been to where she was going, as only a bridge can do. He’d given her a hope and a future, even when she’d given up on that ever happening.
The Bridge Tender Page 24