“Dad’s not going to make it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He barely made it through surgery, Jules. Barely.”
I caught a breath in the back of my throat. “He’s out?”
“They moved him to recovery after you left,” he said. “They’re not expecting him to make it through the night.”
“No,” I said, my eyes flooding with tears again. “No, Luke—”
“I don’t have the energy to do this, Jules,” he said, failing to restrain the tears he’d worked so hard to fight back. “I can’t do this. I’ve already lost her. I can’t lose him, too.”
I closed my eyes. The heaviness in my chest only sank lower as I sat and listened to the man I loved struggle to catch his breath. I couldn’t begin to know or understand what Luke was feeling in that moment. In spite of having lost both of my parents, our circumstances were nothing alike. My parents had died sudden, painless, unexpected deaths. Luke’s mother had suffered through cancer, chemotherapy, and a painful passing. And now his father lay in a hospital bed only one wing away, painfully fighting for his life.
I never watched my parents hurt. I never watched them suffer. I never got a chance to say …
“Luke, you have to tell him goodbye,” I said, now crying harder myself. “If this is it, if this is really the end, you can’t waste another second sitting down here in this chapel. You need to get up there.”
“He’s not awake, Julie,” he said, defeated. “He won’t hear a word I say to him.”
“Please,” I said, struggling for a breath of my own. I slid out of the pew and down on my knees, turning to him. With my elbows resting on his legs and my hands cupped at my face, I watched him through blurry eyes. “If there’s ever a silver-lining to watching someone leave this earth, Luke, it’s knowing that they’re leaving with peace. Tell him you love him. Make sure he knows.”
“He knows.”
“Listen to me,” I begged. “You said it yourself. At Christmas you told me that we have to embrace what time we have left and not to leave anything unsaid or undone. You can’t fear death, remember? Tell the people you love, that you love them. Make sure they know. Luke, go tell him goodbye. Give him peace.”
###
“Lonnie,” I said, drying the tears on my cheek. “Listen, I know you can’t hear me … or at least I don’t think you can. Either way, I have some things I wanted to say to you before … well, you know … just in case.” I wiped another tear and pulled a chair up next to the bed where Lonnie lay sleeping. He didn’t look anything like himself. Broken, beaten, bruised. He’d suffered cranial and spinal injuries beyond surgical repair, and the man in front of me looked nothing like the man I’d always known.
This was the end for him. There wasn’t a shred of doubt left. And while we were fortunate to have the night to say our goodbyes, I knew that having that last chance wouldn’t make letting go any easier.
“I guess what I want you to know most of all is that I’m not the tiniest bit sorry about hitting you that day at the diner,” I said, trying not to laugh through my tears. And I knew if Lonnie would’ve been conscious and able, he would’ve laughed, too. “You made me mad. You had that one coming.”
There was another deep breath, another slow count to ten … another steady stream of tears.
“I wanted to say thank you for giving Luke a chance, for opening up to him and allowing your family to mend what was broken. Whether you or Luke would ever admit it or not, you changed his heart. You gave him back the happiness he needed to move forward with his life. He loves you, just as I know you love him. And Lonnie … sweet, sweet, Lonnie … I love you.”
I took a deep breath and dropped my head back, looking to the ceiling as if that would somehow keep more tears from falling. It didn’t.
“I’ll make sure we fulfill the floral arrangements for the wedding just the way you planned,” I promised. “A thousand daisies, just because you said so. And Luke and I will take care of Grace and Rebecca, don’t you worry. And Zoey … she was so lucky to have you, Lonnie. We all were.”
The door creaked open, and Luke poked his head inside. His eyes red, puffy, and swollen from a long night of crying, he watched me quietly—not saying what I already knew. He was ready. He wanted his time with his dad.
I nodded, and Luke came in, letting the door close behind him. He stood still, his hands folded in front of him as I rose from the chair. I leaned over Lonnie’s motionless body and pressed a long kiss to his cheek.
“I love you, Lonnie Reibeck,” I whispered, kissing him again. “It has been the biggest honor of my life being your favorite daughter.”
When I finally stood tall, Luke stepped forward to take my hand. He pulled me close into a hug and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“Take your time,” I whispered. “I’ll be out there with the others.”
With a quick kiss to his cheek, I left Luke there to say his final goodbyes to his father.
Epilogue
It was barely eight o’clock in the morning when we got the news. Matt, Charlie, and Kara had joined us in the waiting room just an hour before the doctor came in to deliver word of Lonnie’s passing.
The devastation shook through that hospital worse than any tornado ever could.
Grace fell to the floor.
Matt held onto Kara, who held onto Charlie.
Luke couldn’t even pull himself up off the chair. His head dropped forward. Nothing else. Whether he’d already cried himself senseless or the news hadn’t yet settled in, I couldn’t tell. Either way, it was plain to see he’d fallen completely numb.
I knelt to the floor with Grace, trying to comfort a woman who couldn’t be comforted. She’d lost her husband.
The man I loved had lost his father.
I’d just lost a friend.
In the hours that passed after Lonnie’s death, very few words were spoken. Once we broke the news to Derek, the shock and emotion hit all over again … for all of us.
Looking back on recent hours, I couldn’t help but agree with everything Luke had said back at the chapel. He was right.
We think we have problems. The engagement is on. We’re still happily in love and making our way in the world. The wedding, though, is going to have to wait.
We lie. When I told you that I may accept another position elsewhere, I only told you it was West Bridge because I didn’t want to cause you an unnecessary pain.
We complain. This pouty, aloof Matthew Little isn’t you. And I’m sick of it, so I’m calling bull. You’re full of crap.
We overreact and overanalyze every little thing. Luke, you lied to me.
And while we were out there drowning in our so-called problems, lying to the people we love, complaining, overreacting and overanalyzing every tiny thing, we somehow always failed to realize one major detail: no matter how bad we thought we had it, there was always someone else who had it so much worse. Even we could’ve had it so much worse.
Along our merry way, a storm could hit. It could rip through our lives and rob us of one of the few great blessings we have, and suddenly … well, suddenly we’d give anything to have things as bad as we had it before. And then we’re left to wonder … how exactly do we start over after something like this?
The answer was quite simple. We don’t start over. Not right away.
Starting over required time, and we were going to need a lot of it.
###
For updates on the next book in the series, please visit www.traciepuckett.com.
A Little Beyond Time (A Little Beyond #2)
Available Summer 2015
Also by Tracie Puckett
Webster Grove Series
The New Girl (Webster Grove #1)
Under the Mistletoe (Webster Grove #2)
Secrets to Keep (Webster Grove #3)
Coming Out (Webster Grove #4)
All Good Things (Webster Grove #5)
Breaking Series
Breaking R
ules (Breaking #1)
Breaking Walls (Breaking #2)
Breaking Ties (Breaking #3)
Just a Little/A Little Beyond Series
Just a Little Series (Part One)
Just a Little Series (Part Two)
Just a Little Sequel
A Little Beyond Hope (A Little Beyond #1)
Coming Soon
A Little Beyond Time (A Little Beyond #2)
Running Scared (Letters From Morgantown #1)
l
A Little Beyond Hope Page 12