Her mom studied her, as if trying to see her at seventeen as a high school girl, and at nineteen as a young mother. Then at twenty-two, self-sufficient, and raising her daughter on her own. And at every stage in between. Then suddenly her eyes lit up. “Wait!” She motioned toward the apartment. “Be right back!”
“Okay.” Ellie stayed there, leaning against the driver’s door as she watched her mom run lightly up the steps and back into the apartment. How could she ever have thought her mother didn’t love her? She remembered a time when the two of them had walked to the park when Ellie was maybe seven. A storm had come up, and they’d been forced to run all the way home, breathless and laughing. When they reached the house, her mom wrapped her in a towel and held her close for a long time. “You’re my greatest gift, Ellie. You’ll always be my little girl.”
The memory dissolved. Of course her mom had loved her. Every hour of their years apart. Ellie was crazy to have thought otherwise, no matter what the silence suggested. Her mom appeared at the door and hurried to the car, carrying a small brown bag. “I found this in the laundry room while you were at the store.” She handed it to Ellie. “In case you need it.”
Ellie opened it, and again she felt a connection with her mother that time hadn’t touched. “A garden shovel.”
“I used it to fill a pot once.” Her eyes locked on to Ellie’s and she hesitated. “In case you need it before you get on the highway.”
She held her mother’s eyes for a long moment. Then she opened the car door and set the bag on the floorboard, before turning back to her mom. “How can you know me so well?”
“I’m your mother.” She put her hand lightly on Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie, I didn’t finish the talk earlier . . . about Peyton.”
“That’s behind us. Your heart was involved; I don’t need to know anything else.”
“Still.” Caroline studied Ellie, looking deeply to the private areas of her soul. “I’m sorry. I have no excuses. What I did . . . it destroyed our family. It changed everything.” Tears made her eyes shine in the light of the street lamp. “Nothing was the same again for any of us. Not for you or your dad or me.” She paused. “Not for you and Nolan.”
“Mom, you don’t need to—”
“Ellie . . .” She gently touched a finger to her daughter’s lips. “I need to say this.” She wiped at a tear on her cheek. “If I had known I would lose you . . .” She trailed off, overcome by the emotion of the moment.
Ellie hadn’t expected this. Seeing her mother break down. It was one more picture of how much the missing years had cost them. She wanted nothing more than to stay here with her mom and spend the rest of time catching up.
“If I’d known he would take you from me . . . I never would’ve left the house.” Her shoulders shook. “I could’ve lived alone without love for a hundred years. I would’ve done anything to keep you.”
“I know.” Ellie wiped her own tears. “If only I’d gotten your letters.”
Her mom pressed her fingers to her eyes and tried to collect herself. “There’s something else.”
Ellie was grateful that, despite the years, there was no awkwardness between them. She waited, watching her mom, loving her for being this brave.
“I called your father. I’ve forgiven him.”
“You did?” It was the last thing Ellie expected her to say. “He wrote you a letter, right?” She’d forgotten about that. They’d been so busy talking about the past that it hadn’t come up.
“He did, and he apologized.” Caroline caught a few quick breaths, and her eyes filled with compassion. “Unforgiveness is the worst kind of sick. I taught you that when you were growing up.” She hesitated, looking for Ellie’s reaction. “Do you remember?”
“Yes . . . it’s how I’ve raised Kinzie.” She blinked so she could see through her tears. “She reminded me of that before we left San Diego.” She paused. “His house was our first stop as we left town.”
Her mom exhaled, obviously relieved. “So we have no more reasons to hate, no more bitter roots to feed.”
“No.” Ellie appreciated her beautiful mother more than ever. “I don’t know what happens from here. But we have forgiveness. At least that.”
“God knows.” Caroline smiled, and they hugged one last time. “Ask Him to show Himself, Ellie. Promise?”
“I will.” The coming month couldn’t go fast enough. “I don’t want to say good-bye.”
“Me, either.”
Ellie caught a quick breath. “I’ll call.”
They waved good-bye, and Ellie climbed into the car. Even with the gift of her mother’s shovel tucked against the seat, Ellie was pretty sure she wouldn’t go by the park. Nolan didn’t remember, so why bother? What point was there in digging up the old letters now? Whatever he had written to her no longer applied.
But as she crossed town and headed for the freeway, she felt a pull toward the park. She’d waited too long for this moment not to dig up the box and take her letter. After all, she had planned to do that much even before she saw Nolan. The closure would be worth the time it took. Then, as she’d planned from the beginning, she could put Nolan Cook out of her life for good. With every mile, the feeling grew stronger until she was certain it would consume her if she didn’t stop.
It was only three thirty in the morning. But it was June first. If she didn’t go now, she’d regret her decision forever.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Ellie parked adjacent to the entrance and cut the engine. The stop wouldn’t take long, but her daughter couldn’t stay in the car. She grabbed the paper bag and tucked it beneath her arm. Then she stepped out, closed her door, and opened Kinzie’s. She put her hand carefully on Kinzie’s shoulder. “Baby girl . . .wake up.” Her whisper cut the quiet night air. “You need to come with me. Mommy has to do something.”
Kinzie took a few seconds, gradually blinking her eyes open. “What . . . what are we doing?” She rubbed her hands over her face, her light blond hair matted to her cheek.
“We’re headed back to San Diego like we planned. I just have to do something real quick first.”
“Oh.” Kinzie squinted as she stepped out of the car and took Ellie’s hand. “Why?”
“Well, this is the park. The one I used to come to when I lived here.”
“A park?” Kinzie looked confused. She blinked again, trying to wake up. “It’s too late to go to the park, Mommy.”
“We won’t stay.” Ellie smiled. Kinzie was awake enough to walk. The two of them headed for the park’s entrance. “I left something here. I need to get it.”
“In the park?” A hint of a grin tugged at Kinzie’s lips. “That’s funny, Mommy. If you left it here when you were a little girl, someone probably already found it.”
Her daughter had a point. “Maybe.” She smiled again at her daughter. At this hour, even the crickets and bullfrogs from the nearby pond were silent, and no breeze stirred the Spanish moss overhead. Ellie used her phone’s flashlight app to navigate up the curb and through the gate. As she walked, Ellie remembered what her mother wanted her to do. She didn’t believe, didn’t really see the point. But she had promised. God, if You’re real . . . please show Yourself to me. It matters, God. Thank You. They walked into the darkness toward the big oak tree.
“Is it okay to go in?” Kinzie stayed close, holding tight to Ellie’s fingers.
“Yes, sweetie. We’re fine.” It felt right to make good on her mother’s request. She had few expectations that anything beyond that would come from the prayer. But she had kept her word.
The pathways beneath the trees had grown over with weeds and brush, and the park looked different. But Ellie could still navigate her way to the largest tree. The changed look of the place only added to the sadness of the task at hand. The closure it represented. A closure that the fifteen-year-old she’d been had never wanted or expected. As they came closer, Ellie’s heart pounded in her throat.
“Are you scared, Mommy?” Kinzie whispered. “ ’Cause I
am.” She was jumpy for sure, walking so close she was practically attached to Ellie’s hip.
“Not at all. This is a safe place, sweetie.” Ellie realized her words weren’t entirely true. Her heart was breaking in half. Nothing safe about that.
A few more yards and they rounded a cropping of bushes, and there, behind another section of brush growing tall and wide from the ground, was the tree. The tallest one in the park. The spot where she and Nolan had practically grown up together.
“Are we close?” Kinzie was concerned.
“Yes, baby girl.” A series of sobs rushed at Ellie as the tree came into view. She stopped and choked them back. “Almost there.”
Kinzie stayed close as Ellie started walking again and the entire tree came into view. The canopy of branches and the moss that hung from them, the width of the trunk and—
“Mommy!” Kinzie whispered, loud and frantic, as she threw her arms tight around Ellie’s waist. “Someone’s there!”
Ellie turned off her flashlight and slipped her phone into her jeans pocket. She stroked Kinzie’s back and peered into the darkness ahead of them. Kinzie was right. A person was sitting against the tree trunk. From here, it looked like a man, but it was impossible to tell. Probably a homeless person, someone like Jimbo, down on his luck. Homeless people didn’t scare her. She bent low and whispered to Kinzie, “Stay here. I’ll take a look.”
“No!” Kinzie held tight to her arm. “Don’t go. Please, Mommy!”
Ellie was stuck. She had to get the box. She hadn’t come this far to turn around and walk away without her letter. “Baby, it’s just someone trying to get some sleep. Let’s go a little closer.”
Kinzie was hesitant, but she whispered loudly, “Stay with me!”
“I will, baby. I will.” They walked slowly, hidden by the shadows. Closer and closer until they were within ten feet of the tree and suddenly . . . the image of the person became clear.
Ellie gasped and then slapped her hand over her mouth. Nolan Cook? The person sitting propped against the tree trunk was sound asleep. He had a blanket around his shoulders, and it looked like the tackle box was on his lap.
“Mommy!” Kinzie clung to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Shh, baby. Nothing.” They had to leave. There was no understanding why he had come and why he was here. Especially at this hour. But Ellie couldn’t see him again. Life had moved them past this place, past all it had meant to the two of them. He must’ve wanted to read her letter—curious, probably.
But then he’d fallen asleep, strangely. Maybe he had set up camp just in case she came by? Could that be it? The idea seemed impossible. She had been convinced that he didn’t remember the significance of the date. “We need to go,” she whispered close to Kinzie’s ear. “The man’s sleeping. We shouldn’t wake him.”
“Okay.” Kinzie sounded grateful, as if she couldn’t get out of the dark overgrown park fast enough.
Moving as stealthily as she could, Ellie turned around and flicked her flashlight back on. Quietly, slowly, they began to leave Nolan behind them. But after only a few steps, she heard something behind her. She stopped and again flipped off the flashlight app.
“It’s too late, Ellie.” He was coming closer, making his way along the overgrown path. “I see you.”
She froze, and once more Kinzie grabbed on to her. “Mommy!”
“It’s okay, baby. I know him.” Ellie faced Kinzie and dropped down so she could speak straight to her daughter’s eyes. “It’s my friend Nolan Cook. Remember him?”
Kinzie relaxed a little. “Nolan?” She stepped away and turned to face him. “You’re Nolan?”
“I am.” He was stepping carefully along the dark narrow pathway. When he reached them, he crouched down next to Ellie and faced her daughter. He held out his hand. “You must be Ellie’s little girl.”
Kinzie grinned, tucking her chin close to her chest the way she sometimes did when she felt shy. “That’s me.” She shook his hand. “I’m Kinzie.”
“Well,” he waited a few heartbeats, “hello, Kinzie.” He shifted his eyes briefly to Ellie’s, then back to the child’s. “I like your name. Nice to meet you.”
Ellie’s world began to spin. Had that really just happened? He still knew her so well. In the space of a few seconds, he knew exactly where Kinzie’s name had come from. She wanted to run, wanted to protect her damaged heart before there was nothing left of it. But she couldn’t move. Not with him this close.
Kinzie looked from him to Ellie and back. “Did you mean to meet here?”
“Sort of.” This time Nolan kept his attention on Kinzie alone. “We made a plan a very long time ago.”
“Oh.” Kinzie stared at Ellie. “Why didn’t you tell me that, Mommy?”
“Because.” Ellie finally turned to Nolan, wondering if he could see her heartache, her determination to keep this short. “I wasn’t sure Nolan remembered.”
Slivers of moonlight were enough that she could see his expression fall, and his voice with it. “Of course I remembered.”
Kinzie yawned. “That’s a ginormous tree.” She looked all the way up, taking it in. “Can I go sit on the blanket?”
They’d come this far. He’d already dug up the box, so if she was going to see the contents, she needed to take a few more minutes. “Yes, baby. Go ahead.” She turned her flashlight on once more and walked beside Kinzie to the tree trunk.
Her daughter curled up in the thick blanket and closed her eyes. “I’m not really tired. I’ll just rest here. Tell me when it’s time to go.”
The adventure had probably exhausted her. She’d been woken out of a deep sleep, after all. Ellie adjusted the blanket so part of it covered her daughter’s shoulders. The trunk was wider than three of the other oak trees. With Kinzie resting, Nolan picked up the tackle box and motioned for Ellie to follow him around the other side. Two oversize roots made for perfect benches. They sat facing each other.
“She’s perfect.” He looked through Ellie, as if searching for the familiar connection. “She looks just like you.”
“Thanks.”
For a long time he only looked at her, as if he wanted to understand her but wasn’t quite sure where to begin. Again, Ellie felt her anger rising. If he was going to sit here and judge her, try to figure out the reasons why she’d run or the reason she hadn’t lived up to her plans, then she and Kinzie could leave. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Why are you angry?”
His question caught her off guard. She leaned her shoulder into the familiar rough bark. She worked to keep her voice low so Kinzie wouldn’t hear her. “Because . . . you feel sorry for me.”
“For you?” He rested his forearms on his knees and studied her again. “Not at all. I feel sorry for me.”
“What?” Confusion slammed her heart around. The moon shone just enough so she could see the hurt on his face. “What do you mean?”
“It took eleven years to find you.” He shrugged, his eyes never leaving hers. “And now you treat me like this.” He lowered his voice. “I would’ve found you sooner if I could’ve, Ellie. I never stopped trying.”
Ellie could feel her arguments unraveling, feel everything she’d believed about Nolan turning upside down. His eyes were so deep that here in the dark of the oak tree, it was hard not to feel fifteen again. Her walls began to crumble. Was she wrong about him? About who he had become and how he would judge her? Could that be possible? The kindness in his eyes was the same as it had been the last time they were together.
He opened the tackle box and pulled out the first folded sheet of lined yellow paper. “Maybe if you read this.” A depth rang in his voice, his words quiet and sure. He handed the letter to her. “Go ahead.”
She didn’t want to read it, not here in front of him. They’d written the letters back when they were kids. How could they possibly apply here, now? But he wasn’t going to change his mind. She felt herself losing the fight. “Okay.” Maybe if she read it, they cou
ld remember the past, acknowledge it for what it had been, and finally move on. She held the letter in one hand, her phone in the other. The flashlight app lit up the entire page. She opened the paper and found the beginning.
My best friend, my girl, my everything . . . my sweet Ellie.
She got only that far before the tears came. He had thought of her as his girl back then? He’d never said that to her, so the wording took her by surprise. She brought the hand holding the letter to her face and used her wrist to dry her eyes. He was watching her, caring for her. She could feel it. Don’t break down, Ellie . . . just read the letter. She found her place and continued.
I can’t believe your dad’s moving you to San Diego tomorrow. I feel like this is some crazy, terrible nightmare, and any minute my mom’s going to wake me up and it’ll be time for school. But since I can feel the tree beneath me, I know it’s not a dream. That’s why we had to write these letters.
I’m only fifteen, Ellie. I don’t know how to drive, and I don’t know where you’re going exactly. That pretty much terrifies me. So we definitely had to do this. In case we don’t find each other, we’ll have at least this one chance.
More tears, but this time Ellie didn’t try to stop them, didn’t bother to dab at them. They slid down her cheeks, a constant reminder of the sadness of the situation. Not for a minute did either of them think back then that eleven years would go by before they saw each other again. His letter wasn’t long, just one page. She kept reading.
Here’s what I have to tell you. You think I’m kidding when I say I’m going to marry you. You always laugh. Only I’m not kidding. I love you, Ellie. I’ll never love any girl like I love you.
Quiet sobs came over her, and she wondered if her heart would ever be the same. She had never expected this . . . this beautiful letter. Not even back then. And why did he want her to read it now? When they had gone and grown up and their feelings had long since changed? She blinked a few times so she could see through her tears.
See, Ellie? That’s how I feel, but I can’t say so right now, even though you’re leaving tomorrow. Because I don’t want you to laugh this time. That’s why I had to write it in this letter. Oh, and don’t worry about the eleven years. I’m sure by then we’ll be married and living in a big house near the Atlanta Hawks. You know, ’cause I’ll be playing for them. But just in case, I couldn’t let you leave without telling you how I feel. I’ll love you forever, Ellie.
The Chance: A Novel Page 25