Oceans Apart (Kingsbury, Karen)

by Kingsbury, Karen

  He slid his feet along the ground and stared at the sidewalk as he went, because he didn't feel much like looking up.

  Any day, Ramey had told him. Any day Mr. Ogle could work out the details and he would be packed up and sent to live with the Mollers. He told Ramey it wasn't fair. But it didn't matter what he thought.

  Yesterday night Mr. Ogle even came over and said a 'pology about the Mollers not wanting Buddy.

  “They liked you a lot, Max. I've talked to their friends and people in their family. I believe you'll learn to love them.”

  Max didn't think so. And if they wouldn't take Buddy, Max was sure he wouldn't love them. He'd be too busy missing everyone else. Mommy and Buddy and Ramey. And the Evans family.

  Thinking things made the walk go faster. His feet came up to Ramey's door lickety fast this time. He lifted his hand to knock, when he saw a strange sight. The door was open the smallest size, the size of his little finger.

  Max shrugged. Maybe Ramey left it open for him so she wouldn't have to get out of her chair. Getting out of her chair was harder for her every day, and sometimes that put a new spot of worry in his heart next to all the other spots of worry.

  He pushed open the door very quiet, and he was going to call out her name when he heard some voices. A scared feeling grabbed him by the neck and made his arms start to shake. Was it the Mollers? Had they already come to take him away?

  With silent steps he walked into the hall and saw Buddy. “Shhh.” Max gave Buddy a serious look. The dog walked up to him, licked his fingers, and lay down on the floor near his feet. That was when Max could finally hear what the people inside were saying.

  “Well, I made the call.” The person was Ramey, because her breathing was hard and plus it was her voice.

  “So … what did he say?”

  Max froze in place. Even his heartbeep didn't want to work for a breath or two. Because that voice sounded familiar, that's why. He almost thought it was the voice of Mrs. Evans, except that wasn't even possible since Mrs. Evans lived in Florida.

  “He called the Mollers while I was still on the phone.” Ramey chuckled some. “They weren't very happy at first, but then the truth came out. They didn't really want a boy at first, anyway. They wanted a girl. An older girl.”

  The woman who sounded like Mrs. Evans made a long breathy sound. “Oh, thank God, Ramey! That's what God was telling me all day yesterday. I knew I had to fly out here and see for myself if Max was supposed to be with them.” She stopped and a cracking sound came in her voice. “Or if he was supposed to be with us.”

  Max felt his heart beeping just fine now. Very fast and very fine. Because now he was sure as could be that the woman in the next room really was Mrs. Evans! She had to be. His feet couldn't stand there another minute. He dropped his backpack and raced speedy fast around the corner and yes. There she was.

  “Max!” Mrs. Evans turned and saw him.

  “I … I heard what you said.” His words were short and breathy because he couldn't believe what was happening.

  “Is that what you want, Max?” She sank down to the floor and sat on the backside of her shoes. “Do you want to live with us?”

  “Yes. I want that with all my heart. Buddy wants it, too.”

  Mrs. Evans held out her hands and said only, “C'mere, Max.”

  Tears filled up his eyes, but he didn't care. He ran to her and gave her the tightest, bestest hug in the world. When he pulled back he rubbed at his eyes so he could see better. “You mean it? You want me to be part of your family?”

  Long rivers of wet came from Mrs. Evans's eyes, but she smiled anyway. “Yes, Max. We want that forever and ever.”

  Max thought for a moment, and he remembered something. The rock for Ramey! “Be right back.”

  He ran into the room where he was staying and dug beneath his pile of clothes. There it was, shiny black with four snowy white stripes.

  His fingers slid around it and he ran it back to Ramey. “Here.” He opened his hand. “So you don't forget me.”

  Now wet was in Ramey's eyes, too. She took the rock and hugged him so hard her big arms made his breathing hard. When she let go, she rubbed his head and said, “I could never forget you, Max. Not as long as I live.”

  “Know what, Ramey?” Max pointed to the rock. “Only God can make rocks like that.”

  Ramey smiled a special smile, the one she used only for him. “You're right about that, Max.”

  “So …” Max felt his eyebrows raise up. “I'm really gonna live with the Evans family?”

  “Yes.” Ramey smiled and two tears fell from her eyes. “You got your miracle after all.”

  Mrs. Evans reached out and took hold of his hand. “Let's get your things, okay?”

  And just then, Max could almost see his mommy smiling at him from heaven, because she was right, after all. God really did give second chances, because right then he knew he would never scoot along the ground again.

  Forever more, just like his mommy, he would fly.

  All the extra emotion wasn't really good for her, but Ramey didn't care.

  She wiped at her cheeks as she took in the scene, Max tucked safe in the arms of Mrs. Evans, a perfect picture of the one thing Kiahna believed most in.

  Love happens when people forgive.

  So what if her heart hurt a little. Love did that to a person every now and then, didn't it? Besides, she was too busy thanking God for sticking around that afternoon, thanking Him for doing the very thing she'd asked of Him. No, the thing she'd demanded, really.

  He'd given them a forgiveness miracle.

  And even if she lived only another week or two, she would go to heaven a happy woman. Because God had indeed given her a front-row seat to watch it happen.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Connor pulled into the driveway at four o'clock Sunday afternoon and made a mental note to himself.

  No more long trips.

  Even with the strain he still felt around the house, he hated being away from home more than a night or two. Besides, if he was going to work things out with Michele—and he was determined to do so—he needed to spend as much time with her as possible.

  He pressed the garage door opener and eased his truck into the space beside Michele's minivan. His body was more weary than usual, tired in a way that couldn't be explained by the long series of flights these past four days. He knew what it was, of course.

  It was Max.

  He missed the boy so much it was a physical pain, an ache that made him wonder if maybe people could notice a limp in his gait. The scene at the lake when he taught Max how to fish, the one on the big rock when the butterfly landed on Max's pole, the time in the recliner when Max had fallen asleep against his chest …

  The good-bye at the airport.

  All of it played over in his mind a hundred times a day, and no amount of prayer had done anything to dim the pictures. Time would have to handle that task. Or maybe he was doomed to relive the memory of the boy the rest of his days. Punishment for his mistakes, his unbelievably bad mistakes.

  He parked the truck, turned off the engine, and climbed out. His bag was in the back, but he could get it later. Right now he needed to see Michele and the girls, needed to know that God had left him with at least the family he'd betrayed. He loved them more than ever before, loved Michele for sticking with him. Her support was more than he deserved.

  The garage was cluttered, a job he could tackle in the morning. No doubt the grass needed mowing in the backyard, and tomorrow would be the time to do it. He had two days off before he had to fly again. As he stepped between the cars, another familiar thought came to mind.

  How was Max doing? Had he already gone home with the Hawaiian couple, and was he getting to know them? Did he think much of his time in Florida, or the way he'd wanted Connor to be his pretend daddy? Or was he mad at them, smothered in feelings of betrayal and abandonment by everyone who had made an impact on his life?

  Connor sighed and it sounded like it c
ame from the heels of his uniform shoes. Thoughts about Max would have to wait. Right now he needed to see his family, needed to feel their arms around him, the reassurance of their love for him even after all he'd put them through.

  He heard something coming from the backyard, voices of the girls and maybe even Michele. Normally he would go through the house, but he'd been gone so long this time. Why not go straight into the backyard and surprise them?

  The door stuck some, another project to add to the list. But on the second try he pulled it open and stepped down a single stair onto the grass below. The chimney stood like a barrier on his left, blocking out the view of the yard. He was about to move around it and catch the girls off guard when from around the corner something charged him.

  Before Connor could react, a yellow Labrador retriever bounced up and licked his hand. Connor stared at the dog, his brow furrowed. What in the world? Had the girls found a stray? That had to be it, but the dog looked familiar, somehow. Maybe he belonged to a neighbor or someone they knew, a house they'd visited sometime.

  Then it came to him. He looked exactly like Max's dog, Buddy. Max's best friend. The one in the picture, the one his son had missed so much while he was visiting. Connor leaned against the chimney wall for support and ordered his mind to focus.

  Of course this wasn't Max's dog; his mind was merely working overtime.

  “C'mere, boy. Let's see if you have a collar.” Connor held out his hand and the dog came closer. He had a blue scarf around his neck, and Connor had to run his fingers beneath it to figure out that yes, the dog did have a collar. And a tag, too. He twisted the tag to the top of the dog's back and leaned closer to read what it said.

  The tag held just one word.

  Buddy.

  “Buddy …” His heart slipped into an unfamiliar rhythm and with a burst of adrenaline he rounded the corner—

  And there they were.

  “Surprise!” The voices rang out in unison, and Connor took in the faces before him.

  Michele and Elizabeth and Susan—and Max —all running toward him with open arms. And there in the back, eyes locked on him, was his father. He was older, grayer, but seeing him now erased the eight years they'd been apart in as much time as it took to speak a single word. For an instant he remembered the car accident. If the man inside had been his father …

  God … thank You for giving us this second chance. Thank You.

  “Dad …” Connor mouthed the word, and across the yard the old man nodded his head and gestured toward the others. His turn could come later.

  “Oh, Daddy … you're home, and look who's here!” Susan and Elizabeth reached him first, and Connor swung them around. As he did he caught Michele's eyes in the back of the group. She was crying and laughing all at the same time.

  “Yes.” Connor looked at his son and stooped down to his level. It had to be a dream. The scene was too amazing, too wonderful, to be taking place in his own backyard. “Max …”

  The boy ran to him and jumped into his arms. “I'm back, Mr. Evans! Forever and ever. Mrs. Evans came to Hawaii and got me and Buddy, and Ramey called Mr. Ogle and said no, I didn't want to live with the Mollers, and now here I am. Isn't that a miracle?”

  Again his eyes found Michele's. She only nodded to him that yes, it was all true. He wasn't dreaming at all, because he could feel Max's hands around his neck. “Yes, Max.” He hugged his son tight to his chest. “It's the biggest miracle I could ever imagine.”

  Elizabeth yelled for the others to join her on the swings, and the children skipped off together. Connor didn't know what to do first, but he saw Michele motion toward his father. With his eyes fixed on the strapping man at the other end of the yard, Connor went to him and the two did something they'd rarely done.

  They embraced.

  His father placed his hand against the back of Connor's head and held him as if he were a little boy again, held him the way Connor had always wanted to be held. But before his dad could say a word, Connor drew back and searched the man's deep blue eyes.

  “I'm sorry, Dad. I … I didn't say it the other night, but I'm sorry.” His throat was thick, but he was too stunned for tears. “What happened between us … it was my fault.”

  In all his life he'd never seen his father cry. But now, tears fell onto his weathered cheeks, and when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Instead, while the kids played in the distance, he pulled Connor close one more time and held him as if he might never let go.

  When they pulled apart, Connor's brain began firing some of the questions that had been flash frozen in the shock of the moment. “I can't believe you're here … how did …?”

  His father only nodded at Michele. “She called me, Son. From Hawaii. She told me what was happening, what she wanted to do.” This time his father leaned close and kissed him on the forehead. “I told her I wouldn't have missed this for the world.” He paused. “Your son's beautiful, Connor.”

  He looked over his father's shoulder at the boy running in circles around Susan. “Yeah, he is, isn't he?”

  “But that woman”—his dad pointed toward Michele—“is beautiful inside and out.”

  “I know it.” Connor glanced at Michele. “I think I need to go tell her so myself.”

  His father patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, Son, I believe you do.”

  Connor left his father with the children and pulled his feet through the grass to where Michele stood, not far from the patio door. She still had that sheepish grin, the one that told him yes, everything was exactly how it looked. She had done it all while he was gone on his trip.

  “Michele … how did you …?” He shook his head. His thoughts formed a logjam in his heart, and he couldn't make himself voice even one of them.

  She came to him then, slipped her hands along his sides and wrapped them around his lower back. Her lips met his, but the kiss was a quick one, promising more later on when they were alone. She drew back and placed a single finger to his lips. “Shhh. We can talk about it later.”

  “But how did you—”

  “Later.” She smiled at him again, her eyes swimming. “First there's something you have to tell that little boy.” She looked beyond him to the children playing near his father. Buddy was frolicking at their feet, thoroughly enjoying his new home. “The girls already know you're his daddy. I told them Thursday morning.” Her eyes met his again.

  “Were they … were they okay? The girls, I mean?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a look that silenced his fear. “They're fine. Now it's time for you to tell Max.”

  What? His heart was beating so hard he expected it to burst from his chest and do flips across the yard. Was she serious? Right now? Thirty minutes ago he was trying to figure out how he'd live the rest of his life missing a green-eyed little boy with a face like his own, and now … He gave a shake of his head and forced his mind to think straight. What had happened to her in the past few days? A miracle, no doubt, but why?

  “Michele …” His heart broke for all she'd been through, the price she'd paid for his selfish decisions one night an ocean away from her. “I'm so sorry. Do you believe me?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was tight with emotion, but her smile was as genuine as he'd ever seen it. “And I forgive you, you know why?”

  He had no idea. “No … I guess I don't.”

  “Because love happens when you forgive.” She held her finger to her nose and made a sound that was more laugh than cry. “Max told me that.”

  Once more he looked at her, but she only nodded toward the children. “I have dinner ready inside. I'll bring everyone else in. That way you and Max can be alone for a few minutes.” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Okay, guys, everyone inside to wash hands.”

  His father must've been in on the plan, because he looped an arm around each of the girls and whispered something to Max. Connor watched the boy grin and look straight at him. Connor nodded and used his finger to call Max to his side.

  As soon as
they were alone together, Connor begged God for the right words. Don't let him hate me for not telling him sooner. Please, God …

  “Max … I have something to tell you.” He sat back on his heels, ignoring his dry mouth and the way his throat kept tightening.

  “Can you believe it, Mr. Evans?” Max raised his hands high in the air and hooted. “I get to stay forever, and Buddy, too.”

  “I know.” He gave his son an impulsive hug, and then tried again. “What I want to tell you, Max, is that—”

  “And guess what!” The boy was vibrating with excitement. “You get to be my pretend daddy now, Mr. Evans. Isn't that just the bestest thing you ever heard?”

  “Max.” Something in his tone made the boy settle down and catch Connor's gaze.

  “Yes, Mr. Evans?” A worried look flashed in his eyes, and Connor had to hold back a smile. He needed to get the news out fast, before the boy misunderstood.

  “Remember how your mommy told you that maybe one day you'd find your daddy somewhere out there?”

  “Yes.” Max's eyes were wide, his breathing still fast. “I remember.”

  “Well, Max … Mrs. Evans and I found out something you should know.”

  “Okay, but guess what?” Now the boy's eyes were almost full circles. “I don't want that daddy anymore, Mr. Evans. I want you.”

  “Good.” Connor allowed the smile to fill his face. “Because we found out I'm your daddy, Max. The one your mommy told you about.”

  For a long time, Max only stared at him, searching his face as though maybe this was a joke or perhaps he'd heard wrong. Then he did a giant gulp and his voice fell to a whisper. “You're … you're my daddy? My real daddy?”

  “Yes, Max.”

  “So you mean …” Max did a little laugh. “You mean God answered all my prayers, every single one?”

  Relief spilled across Connor's soul. The boy wasn't upset with him. “Yes … and I know why, too.”