by Gary Parker
“So Dad came home to die?”
“A forgiven man doesn’t fear death,” Chase said.
“The cross,” Allie said. “The one he buried.”
“Was your dad a believer?” Chase asked.
“Not that I know of,” Allie said.
“Maybe he became one.”
“It’s possible.”
Silence fell, and Allie wondered again if this was it—what her dad wanted to communicate to her. Somehow, in spite of all she’d learned, she still felt something missing, one more piece of the puzzle. If her father had died, what had killed him? He was only fifty-three, so even if he had a heart condition as the letter mentioned, that was still extremely young. Had his drinking made matters worse? That was possible, but she still didn’t feel satisfied. If her dad was dead, she wanted to know it for certain. And more than that, she wanted to know if he had indeed died at peace. But what else could she do? She faced Nu Than once more.
“I thank you for what you’ve told me,” she said.
“Your father a well-intentioned man,” Nu Than said. “I never feel no harm toward him. Billy Trotter’s death was accident of war.”
Allie stood, moved to Nu Than, and hugged her. Rose Linh smiled as Allie straightened and took her hand.
“Will you continue the search for your father?” Rose Linh asked.
“If I can.”
“If you find him, tell him again that we thank him for his kindnesses to us.”
“I’ll do that.”
She and Chase left then, Allie’s heart glad for what she’d learned but still confused and hurt that she hadn’t found her dad.
“What next?” she asked Chase as they climbed into the car to go back to the airport.
“I guess you better go home and get married.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
He started the car and pulled it onto the street. Allie wondered what Trey was doing, thinking, wanting. Although her quest for her dad had apparently ended, her problems had by no means concluded. She propped her head against the window and wanted to cry. A heavier rain began to fall. She felt hollow, like somebody had yanked her heart out with bare hands. Something wasn’t right, wasn’t right with Trey, wasn’t right with her dad. But what else could she do?
“Why did all this happen?” she said softly. “What was the purpose in it?”
“Some people believe that everything happens for a reason,” Chase said.
“So what’s the reason for the past two weeks? If it wasn’t to find my dad, then what?”
“You’ll have to answer that,” Chase said.
Allie tried to figure it out. Was it so she could meet Chase? But why? So she could discover something about Trey? But what—except that they had some things they had to straighten out before their wedding? What a mess!
Chase’s cell phone rang, and he picked it up from the console. “Yeah,” he said.
Allie stared out the window and tried to ignore the conversation.
“Wow!” he said.
Unable to stop herself, she faced him. His mouth hung open. She heard his dad’s voice on the other end but couldn’t make out what he said.
“Really?” Chase glanced at Allie; his face gave nothing away, but Allie’s heart roared anyway. Something told her that life had just changed—for better or worse, she didn’t know.
“You think we should come home or go straight there?” Chase asked.
Allie tried to hear but couldn’t make out anything. “Okay,” Chase said. “We’ll go immediately.”
He hung up and faced Allie. “You won’t believe it,” he said.
“What?” she demanded.
“Your father.”
“Yes?”
“He’s alive.”
Allie stopped breathing. “You’re sure?”
“My dad says so. You know he’s been checking around through the VA. Seems that a buddy of his, a doctor at a VA hospital in Atlanta, called an hour ago, said your dad was there.”
Allie’s mind bounced in all directions. She wanted to scream and shout and cry all at the same time. She closed her eyes and sought to steady herself. Chase pulled the car into a gas station lot and parked. Allie began to sob.
“Hey,” Chase soothed, touching her forearm. “This is good, right? No time for crying.”
“I just can’t believe it.”
Chase found a tissue and gently dabbed at her wet face. “It’s a crazy world,” he said.
Allie smiled at him, and her spirits lifted. “Should I go home first? Talk to Mom?”
“Dad seemed to think we best go to Atlanta pretty fast.”
“So it’s critical?”
“Sounded serious, yes.”
Allie considered her mom, then Trey. “Trey’s going to kill me,” she said.
“Not if he really loves you.”
“I need to call Mom,” she said, “ask her to meet me there.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
Allie wiped her eyes. “So we’re going to Atlanta?”
“As soon as a jet can fly us there.”
She smiled again. “I knew I’d find him,” she said.
“Almost makes you believe in miracles, huh?”
“I wouldn’t go that far yet.”
“But maybe someday?”
Allie tried to imagine the possibility. Did miracles really happen? Had God brought her to this moment? Or was it something much more coincidental—mindless chance, sheer undirected fate? It was the same question she’d asked since this started, but she still had no answer.
“Drive,” she said. “We’ll worry about miracles later.”
Chase chuckled and obeyed, and Allie’s heart soared higher than the jet they would soon take to see her father.
12
They caught the last plane of the day from St. Louis to Atlanta and landed at just past 1:00 a.m. It took almost an hour after they landed in Atlanta for them to rent a car and drive to the VA hospital. By the time they arrived, Allie’s emotions had taken enough back-and-forth trips to earn frequent flyer miles. Fear, joy, anxiety, hope, love, anger, fear again—all rolled through her heart over and over again.
Her phone call to Trey—made while she waited in St. Louis for the flight to Atlanta—hadn’t gone well. Although he’d said he was glad she’d found her dad, he’d also said he couldn’t join her in Atlanta to see him. Too many things going on, he’d told her, too much confusion for both of them to be out of town. She’d assured him she agreed with his decision but inwardly had felt hurt by it. What kind of man refused to join his fiancée the day she found her long-lost father? Was that the kind of man she wanted to marry?
Unable to convince Trey to join her, she’d called Gladys. To her surprise, her mom had taken the news more calmly than she’d expected. “I’ll come as quickly as I can in the morning,” Gladys had said.
“You want me to wait on you to see him?” Allie had asked.
“No, you go to him the second you arrive.”
Allie had agreed and hung up.
Now she climbed out of the rental car and made her way into the entrance of the VA hospital about seven miles east of downtown Atlanta. An attendant at the information desk gave her a room number and pointed her and Chase to the elevators. Stepping in, she faced Chase and held out her hands for him to see.
“You’re shaking,” he said, pointing to her fingers.
“I know.” She shoved her hands into her pants pockets. “Do you blame me?”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “It will all be fine,” he said. “This is what you wanted, right, what you set out to do—find your dad before your wedding?”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said.
“Sure you could, but I’m glad I was here anyway.”
The elevator dinged and stopped. Time seemed to halt as they waited for the door to open. Allie took Chase’s hand and held it in both of hers.
“You still think I’m the woman you’re supposed to marry?” she
asked.
He raised his right eyebrow. “Strange time to ask that,” he said.
“Strange time for a lot of things.”
“Yeah.”
She felt a sudden urge to be held and wanted Chase to pull her close and hug her tightly, but the elevator door opened before that could happen, and she dropped his hand and stepped out, her heart riddled with a mixture of guilt and excitement. Right now, however, she had no time to figure out what those emotions meant or where they might lead.
Chase halted as the elevator door closed. “You need to go without me from here,” he said.
Allie nodded, and Chase pointed to a sign that said “Waiting Room” a few steps away. “I’ll be right there,” he said.
Allie bit her lip. “Thanks,” she said. “For everything.”
“Go to your dad,” he ordered.
She smiled, then hurried down the hallway to room 312.
Allie entered the room softly, the door making only a light swishing sound as she pushed it open and then shut it behind her. Her dad slept in his bed, tubes and wires attached to him in a number of spots. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and for her heart to slow to a manageable pace. Her dad’s breath came in shallow gasps, and he stirred every few seconds. For what seemed like the millionth time in the last two weeks, Allie pondered the meaning of her search but once more reached no definite conclusion about its purpose. What good was it to see her dad if he was going to die within days, if not sooner?
Her dad moaned lightly, and she stepped closer and just stood there for several minutes, the only sounds those of his breathing and the monitors clicking around his body. Finally, when she didn’t think she could take it any longer, his eyes suddenly blinked and opened. Allie almost ran away, but something held her glued to the spot. Another minute passed while they just stared at each other. Allie wondered if her dad was conscious, if he comprehended anything. But then he spoke.
“Who are you?” His voice rasped as if dragging the words over sharp rocks.
Allie rubbed her eyes but couldn’t find her voice.
Her dad lifted a hand and motioned her closer. She obeyed, unable to do anything else. She stopped as his arm relaxed on his bed, the movement seeming to tire him. She studied his eyes, still fixed on her. Black eyes, like hockey pucks indeed. Black olives, onyx stones, coal—name the blackest object ever created, and the color of his eyes matched it.
His eyes widened slightly and seemed to light up at least ten watts. “You’re Allie,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she said, finding her voice.
“Is Gladys with you?”
“On her way.”
A smile briefly crossed his face. “How did you... find me?”
“It’s a long story, but I’ve been searching for you.”
“Why?”
She wanted to tell him the full tale but didn’t know if she had the time. “Let’s just say I felt driven to it,” she said.
He didn’t press her further. “I’m not sure... sure I want you here,” he said.
“Why not?”
“I... don’t deserve it.”
Her heart went out to him, and she grabbed a chair and sat down by the bed. They now gazed at each other from the same level. “Sure you do,” she said. “I know why you stayed away from us. I found Nu Than and Rose Linh. They told me everything. You’ve suffered enough for Billy Trotter’s death; it was an accident, the fog of war.”
He slowly shook his head. “I let it eat me up,” he said. “Let it become an excuse... drank... my fault for that. Guilt over... Vietnam, then guilt over... drinking, deserting you and your mom. It got worse... and I didn’t stop it.” He closed his eyes, obviously weary from talking.
“But you couldn’t help it,” she said. “Alcoholism is a disease.”
“That’s too easy!” he rasped, his voice stronger for an instant. “Drinking is a choice that becomes a disease, not the other way around! I wronged you, your mom, everyone who knew me.”
Allie wanted to argue more but figured it wasn’t the time. One of the monitors attached to her dad clicked. He spoke again. “I’m glad... you came,” he said. “Whether I deserve it or not.”
“You’re not alone,” she assured him. “I’m here; Mom will be soon.”
He coughed. When he spoke again, his voice sounded a touch better, like he’d gathered energy from some resource deep inside. “I need your forgiveness.”
“You have it,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s not that easy,” he said. “You’ve got anger, resentment at me; I don’t blame you. Forgiveness will take a long time, maybe years, but I need to hear that you want to do it, want to try.”
Allie’s eyes watered. “I do,” she assured him.
He closed his eyes again. His breath slowed, became shallower, then seemed to stop for an instant. Allie squeezed his hand but got little response.
“Dad?”
No response.
“Dad?”
His eyes popped open.
“Two more things,” he whispered.
“What?”
He held up a finger as if making a necessary point. “The Lord... that’s settled for me.”
“You’re a believer?”
“A sorry one, but... yes; that’s how I stopped... drinking.”
Allie wanted to ask what led him to faith but saw he didn’t have the strength.
“Another thing,” he whispered. “What’s killing me, you need to know it.”
“What is it, Dad?”
“Don’t know... details. Talk to the doctor. But you may... have it.”
“What?”
“It’s genetic, handed down. Some fancy name.”
“I don’t understand.”
His eyes bored into hers. “Talk to the doctor, he’ll tell you... get tested... it’s treatable if you find it early enough.”
“Okay.”
“Final thing.”
“What?”
He reached for her face, touched her forehead, ran his fingers down her nose, held her chin. “Your eyes... you’ve got your daddy’s eyes.”
He sagged back then, obviously spent. Allie wanted to ask him more but didn’t dare. As weak as he was, he might die before her mom arrived if she pressed him harder. The door suddenly swished open, and a nurse entered the room.
“I’m Ginny,” said the nurse, a thin black woman with a bright smile and straight teeth.
Allie quickly introduced herself.
Ginny motioned her outside the room. Allie kissed her dad on the forehead and followed her out. Ginny closed the door behind them. Allie started to ask about her dad’s disease, but Ginny spoke before she could.
“I’m glad somebody came to be with Jack,” Ginny said. “We asked him over and over if he wanted us to call any family, but he always said no.”
“It’s been a while since I saw him,” Allie said.
“I figured that.”
“He left home a long time ago.”
“We get a lot of Vietnam vets who suffered this way, took up drinking, drugs, after the war.”
“Thanks for taking care of him.”
Ginny smiled. “I saw your picture,” she said.
“What?”
“In his wallet; he keeps a picture of you and a woman I figure to be your mama.”
Allie’s eyes brimmed.
“I prayed you here,” Ginny said.
“You prayed me here?” The words sounded strange, like voodoo or something.
“Yes. I’m a believing woman, and I asked the Lord that if you and the woman in that picture were his kin, you would come see him before it was too late.”
“But Dad didn’t want us here.”
“A patient doesn’t always know what’s best, you know what I mean?”
“But you do?”
“The Lord does. If the Lord wanted you here, you would come. If not... so be it.”
“You really believe that?”
�
��Don’t you?” She looked at Allie as if asking a baby girl if she liked pink ribbons. The answer just had to be yes, but Allie wasn’t ready to concede that.
“I’m not sure what to believe.”
“How else you explain your being here?”
Allie tried to wrap her mind around the notion that her presence was the result of Ginny’s prayers. If so...
She pushed away the thought but reserved the right to bring it up again at a more opportune time.
“My dad said he had some genetic disease,” she said, changing the subject. “Told me I should get tested for it.”
“You best see the doctor about that,” Ginny said. “But maybe that’s reason enough for your coming.”
“How so?”
Ginny shrugged. “Maybe the Lord brought you here so Jack wouldn’t die alone or maybe so you could find out about this disease you might have.”
“Maybe both.”
“That’s a strong possibility. The Lord works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform.”
Allie rubbed her eyes—she had so much to consider. “Go on now,” Ginny said. “Let me do a couple things with your dad. You come back in half an hour.”
“He’s okay for that long?”
Ginny nodded, and Allie thanked her again, then turned and hurried to the waiting room to find Chase and wait for her mom.
13
Jack Wilson died two days later, at just past six in the evening, with Allie on one side of his intensive-care-unit bed, Gladys on the other. Trey, who had arrived just after dinner, sat in the waiting room down the hall. Allie and her mom stayed by Jack for close to five minutes after he breathed his last, neither of them speaking. They cried quietly as tears coursed down their faces. Finally Gladys eased to Allie and put an arm around her.
“I’m glad you found him,” Gladys whispered. “Glad he didn’t die alone.”
“Me too,” Allie said, dabbing her eyes clear. “So grateful we got the chance to tell him we loved him.”
“For him to tell us too.”
Allie stepped to her dad one final time and kissed him on the cheek. “Rest in peace, Dad.”
Gladys started crying again but also kissed Jack a last time. Then they walked out together.
“I’ll go find Ginny,” Gladys said.
“I best go see Trey.”