Never Say Goodbye

by Irene Hannon

  Jess sighed. “No.” Now it was her turn to gaze out over the lake. “They’re having a hard time understanding why I’ve let Scott back into my life. And frankly, so am I. I’ve hated him for four years, and yet I invite him to stay at my condo.” She shook her head, bewildered. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It might,” Reverend Young said mildly.

  Jess turned to him with a frown. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it all depends on whether the Scott you invited to stay at your condo is the same Scott who went to prison.”

  She looked at him thoughtfully. “In some ways, yes,” she said slowly. “But he’s changed quite a bit, too. For the better.”

  “Then maybe your invitation does make sense.”

  “Tell that to my parents,” she said with a sigh.

  “What do they think you should do?”

  “Tell him to get lost. They still hate him for what he did to Elizabeth—and to me.”

  “And what about you, Jess? How do you feel about him?” he asked gently.

  “I don’t know.” She rose restlessly and moved closer to the lake side of the gazebo, pressing her palms flat on the railing as she stared out over the water. “I used to hate him. But I’m tired of hating. And I—I’m not sure anymore that everything I blamed on him was all his fault, anyway.” She paused, trying to gather the courage to speak what had long been in her heart. “The thing is, I shouldn’t have let him drive that night,” she said slowly. “If I’d been behind the wheel, maybe Elizabeth and the judge wouldn’t have been killed. And if I’d been more understanding about his pressures at work, maybe he wouldn’t have turned to alcohol in the first place.”

  She was afraid that when she turned she would see censure and recrimination in the minister’s eyes. Instead, they reflected kindness and compassion.

  “Guilt can be a terrible burden,” he said quietly. “It can rob our lives of joy and hope and peace. We all do the best we can under the circumstances in which we find ourselves. Sometimes we make good choices. Sometimes we don’t. That’s part of being human. And we can’t spend our lives beating ourselves up over the bad choices. At some point we have to accept the mistakes we’ve made, forgive ourselves and move on.”

  “You sound like Scott.” She forced her lips into the semblance of a smile. “Or maybe he sounds like you.”

  Reverend Young chuckled. “The concept may have started with me—or, more accurately, with the Lord,” he admitted. “But Scott took it to heart, though he’ll be the first to admit that he struggled mightily with it. Sometimes it’s easier to forgive others than to forgive ourselves, you know. But in the end, he felt the healing power of God.”

  Jess looked at him wistfully. “I wish I could.”

  “You can. You just have to ask for forgiveness—and most important, be willing to follow His example by forgiving others.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Even if that leads into dangerous waters?”

  He eyed her shrewdly. “Anything that requires a leap of faith involves a certain amount of danger, Jess. That’s true of forgiveness. And trust. And love.”

  Jess turned and gazed out again over the placid lake, wishing some of its serenity would seep into her soul. She tucked her hair behind her ear and drew a steadying breath. “Can I tell you something in confidence?”

  “Of course.”

  “Sometimes I—I think I’m falling in love again with Scott,” she whispered.

  “Is that bad?” he asked gently.

  She looked at him in confusion. “I don’t know. It feels wrong somehow, like I’m dishonoring the memory of Elizabeth by accepting back into my life the man who caused her death.”

  Reverend Young studied her for a moment. “You know, Jess, I visited Scott regularly when he was in prison. We had a lot of long talks. Many of them about Elizabeth. And I lost track of the number of times he broke down and wept bitterly over her death. I can tell you with absolute certainty that no man ever loved his daughter more than Scott. Her loss was as devastating to him as it was to you. So I don’t really think there’s a conflict between your feelings for Scott and your love for Elizabeth. In fact, I believe that one of the best ways for you to honor the memory of Elizabeth would be to love her father—who loved her with all his heart.”

  Jess stared at Reverend Young. Could he possibly be right? she wondered in shock. Was loving Scott respectful of—rather than a violation of—the memory of Elizabeth? Or was the minister telling her this just because he was looking out for Scott’s best interests? Yet she saw only conviction and honesty in the man’s eyes. Dear God, she wanted to believe him! Desperately! Because if she did, there would be one less worry on her mind. One less obstacle to forgiveness. And she would be one step closer to making peace with her past.

  “You don’t have to make any decisions until you’re ready,” Reverend Young reassured her with an understanding smile. “Just think about it. Pray about it. And answers will come—in God’s time.” He stood and reached out to take her hand in a warm clasp. “I’ll keep you in my prayers. And now I’ll leave you to enjoy this beautiful spot in peace.”

  Jess watched the minister disappear down the flagstone path, then turned back to the quiet lake. Peace. Even the word had a lovely sound, she thought wistfully, savoring the echo of it in her mind. For four years it had been absent from her vocabulary. And from her life. In fact, she’d begun to believe that it had disappeared forever.

  But suddenly, for the first time in a very long while, she felt the stirrings of hope in her heart. Reverend Young’s comments had given her new insights and new options about how to deal with her situation. And if he was right, maybe she would find—through reconciliation—the peace that had been so elusive.

  Now she just needed the courage to follow her heart.

  “…heard the latest about Scott Mitchell?”

  “I knew he got out.”

  “That’s not the half of it. Get this…he and Jess are living together!”

  Jess stopped abruptly, hidden by a bank of greenery from the women whose conversation she had inadvertently overheard at the restaurant where she was meeting Scott for lunch. She recognized the voices—the wives of two of Scott’s former business associates with whom she and Scott had gone out socially on a number of occasions.

  “You’re kidding! Why in the world would she take up with him again? He’s an ex-con, for heaven’s sake!”

  “I have no idea. She could certainly do better than that. I mean, what can he offer her? His career is toast. Brian saw him planting flowers at an office building downtown. He must work for a nursery or something. Manual labor—do you believe it? Which probably pays dirt—pardon the pun.”

  The other woman chuckled. “Cute. Anyway, that’s probably all he could get. After all, who’d want to hire an ex-con?”

  “Yeah. So much for the good life. No more power lunches or country clubs or filet mignon for him.”

  “Not exactly the fast track.”

  “Not exactly any track.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe one day he could move up to shrubs. Or even shade trees. Or maybe Jess could support him.”

  Jess had become increasingly incensed as she listened to the conversation, but the two women’s laughter was what drove her over the edge. Without even stopping to think, she stepped around the greenery.

  “Hello, Jennifer. Susan.” It was a struggle, but somehow she managed to maintain a civil tone.

  “Jess! Why…we were just talking about you,” one of the women replied, clearly flustered. She exchanged a guilty look with her companion, and both women’s faces grew pink.

  At least they had the grace to look embarrassed, Jess thought, gritting her teeth. “I know. I couldn’t help overhearing. And I wanted to set the record straight on a few things. First of all, Scott and I are not living together—at least, not in the way you think. Second, Scott understands that material things aren’t really what life’s about—and that they have nothing to d
o with what a person has to ‘offer.’ So the amount of money he makes isn’t that important to him. It’s too bad more people don’t have their priorities straight,” she said, glancing pointedly at the diamond rings on the women’s fingers and the BMW key chain lying on the table.

  “As for manual labor,” she continued, “it’s a lot more honest than the backbiting politics of the corporate world. And finally, I would suggest you think about your attitude toward ex-cons. You know one now. So you ought to realize that they don’t all fit the same mold. Writing people off, denying them a chance because of a stereotype—be it race or gender or age or a prison record—is just plain wrong.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Enjoy your lunch, ladies.”

  Jess didn’t wait for them to reply. She simply turned and walked toward her table, her head held high. Only when she sat, her back to the women, did she realize that her legs felt like rubber and her hands were trembling. In-your-face confrontation just wasn’t her style, she acknowledged, drawing a shaky breath. She generally avoided it at all costs, unless she felt passionate about a subject.

  Which ought to tell her something, she suddenly realized with a jolt. Because her last two confrontations had involved defending Scott.

  Scott’s throat tightened with emotion and he moved farther back into the shadows as he watched Jess walk to her table. He, too, had overheard the conversation between the two women they’d once considered friends. Frankly, he was getting used to dealing with that kind of garbage. It rarely bothered him anymore. What did bother him was that their derogatory comments hadn’t been confined to him. By association, Jess had been tainted, as well. Which was something he simply hadn’t considered when he’d thought about them reuniting.

  Scott jammed his hands into his pockets as he studied Jess’s profile. She was clearly upset. He could see it in the rapid rise and fall of her chest, in the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, in her white-knuckled grip on her water glass. But intuitively he knew she wasn’t upset because of the women’s disparaging comments about her. She was upset because of what they’d said about him. Which made him feel good. And bad.

  On the plus side, her vigorous defense of him was clear evidence that her feelings for him were deepening—whether she realized it or not.

  On the minus side, today was only a preview of what she’d have to deal with if they got back together. Scott recalled her father’s comment a few days earlier. “If you cared for her at all, you’d leave her alone. You’d walk out of her life and never come back,” he’d said. Scott hadn’t believed him then. But suddenly a seed of doubt crept into his mind. Was it fair to subject Jess to the bias that would likely follow him the rest of his life? he wondered, a troubled frown furrowing his brow. He’d just seen the effect of it firsthand. Her righteous anger told him that she was able to deal with such prejudice publicly. But as he studied her now, he was also aware that it had bruised her heart. This time, on his behalf. But eventually she would feel the hurt for herself, as well.

  “Excuse me, sir…can I help you?”

  Scott turned to find a waiter at his elbow. “No, thanks. I’m just getting ready to join my party.”

  As the man disappeared, Scott took a deep breath. Hiding in the shadows wasn’t going to give him any answers. If he’d learned anything at all over the past four years it was to acknowledge problems and deal with them head-on. So, forcing his lips into a smile, he stepped into the sunlight and made his way toward Jess.

  She looked up as he approached and returned his smile, though he could still see evidence of strain on her face as he took the seat across from her.

  “Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” he apologized. “A long-winded customer.”

  “That’s okay. It gave me time to make a quick trip to the ladies’ room.”

  “That’s what I figured. The hostess said you’d been seated on the patio, but you were nowhere to be seen when I got here. So I waited under the grape arbor.”

  She shifted uncomfortably and glanced over her shoulder toward the table where the two women had been seated.

  “They made a fast exit after your conversation.”

  Her gaze swung back to his. “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough. And I’d like to thank you for your spirited defense.”

  Her face colored slightly. “I can’t believe the things they were saying! How can people be so…so…”

  “Unkind?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “I had a stronger word in mind.”

  A wry smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “I’m getting used to it, Jess. It goes with the territory of being an ex-con.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t.”

  “I agree. But it does. And unfortunately, the stigma is transferred to people who associate with ex-cons. Frankly, I don’t care what those women said about me. But I do care very much about their derogatory comments about you.”

  She looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?” she asked, confirming his suspicion that she hadn’t even noticed their snide remarks about her. He hated to call attention to them, but she needed to be aware of what she would face if the two of them got back together.

  “Their implications were pretty clear,” he said soberly. “You must be crazy to take up with an ex-con. It was beneath you. There’s nothing I could offer you. You might even end up supporting me.”

  She stared at him. “I heard some of that. Not all.”

  “Trust me, it was there. Ex-cons become very sensitive to those kinds of things.”

  She looked at him, appalled. “Do you run into this all the time?”

  He shrugged. “I was warned about it, so I was prepared. For myself, anyway. But not for you,” he replied, evading her question.

  She dismissed his concern with an impatient shake of her head. “I can handle that kind of garbage,” she said brusquely.

  “I know. I saw you in action. But I’d rather you didn’t have to. And unfortunately, if you hang around me you’ll have to,” he said evenly, his gaze locked with hers.

  Though his manner was outwardly relaxed, Jess could feel his tension. Clearly, he was deeply concerned about the scene that had just transpired—and even more concerned that it would likely be repeated in the future. Far more concerned than she. And he needed to know that. She returned his gaze steadily, and when she spoke her voice was filled with quiet resolve. “I’m not going to live my life to accommodate other people’s prejudices. If people are so shallow they can’t look past stereotypes, that’s their problem, not mine. And if they can’t accept me for who I am—the choices I make, the people I…” She had almost said “love,” she realized in shock, her breath lodging in her throat. She stared at Scott, who was watching her intently, and quickly changed direction. “The people I choose to include in my life—then I don’t want to have anything to do with them. And as for people like Jennifer and Susan—frankly, they’re not even worth wasting breath on.”

  Scott studied her, warmed and encouraged by her response. Clearly, her feelings on the subject were strong. But were they strong enough to stand repeated attacks? he wondered. Including those from her own parents? Would she eventually become disheartened—or would her convictions intensify in adversity? Unfortunately, Scott didn’t know the answer. He’d just have to trust his heart on this one, he realized—and pray that the Lord would offer him guidance.

  “Can I take your order?”

  Jess and Scott simultaneously looked at the waiter, then at each other.

  “I’m ready, but you’ve hardly had a chance to look at the menu,” Jess said.

  He glanced down and scanned it quickly. “Go ahead. I only need a second.”

  Jess turned back to the waiter. “I’ll have a chicken Caesar salad.”

  Scott looked at her with a frown. To get her to accept his invitation for this “thanks-for-your-hospitality” lunch, he’d had to overcome her protests that it was both unnecessary and too expensive. Though she’d finally capitulated, the cost was clearly still on
her mind. “Don’t you want something more substantial than that?” he said.

  “This is plenty, really. I usually just have yogurt for lunch, so this is a big meal for me,” she replied truthfully.

  For a moment Scott hesitated, but then he let it pass and gave his own order. “Actually, as it turns out, this lunch is not only a thank-you but a celebration,” he said as he handed his menu to the waiter.

  She looked at him in surprise. “How so?”

  “I have some good news. I found an apartment.”

  Jess stared at him. If his news was so good, why had her stomach suddenly dropped to her toes? she wondered. “Th-that’s great,” she replied, striving for an enthusiastic tone.

  “I stopped in to see it this morning on my way to work. I think even Karen would approve. There is one problem, though. It won’t be ready for occupancy for a week.”

  Though she quickly masked it, Scott saw the relief in her eyes—and suddenly felt the same emotion sweep through his heart. She didn’t want him to leave!

  “You’re welcome to stay on at my place,” she replied, confirming his assessment.

  He smiled at her, and the warmth that radiated from his eyes sent a flush of heat sweeping over her. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Thank you.” He reached over and covered her hand with his.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at his lean brown fingers resting on hers. It took a concerted effort to tear her gaze from their hands, but when she finally did the undisguised hunger in his eyes not only made her mouth go dry—it curled her toes.

  And made her wonder if she’d just made a big mistake.

  “Wow! Something smells great!” Scott called as he stepped through the front door. “I hope I got what you wanted. I had no idea ginger came in—”