Times and Seasons

by Beverly LaHaye

  “Don’t be, yet,” Annie told her. “I might turn into a wimp and come running back home.”

  “And you might not,” Cathy said. “You might make a difference in a thousand children’s lives.”

  It was all she could do to let Annie go, and she stood on the other side of the rope as her daughter stepped across the threshold to the jet bridge all alone. Annie paused and turned back, looked at Cathy again, then swallowed hard and disappeared down the hallway.

  Brenda and Tory came to Cathy’s side, putting their arms around her while she waved good-bye. She felt Steve’s hands on her shoulders from behind.

  Annie was gone, but she was in good hands. God would get her there, and Sylvia’s arms would be waiting on the other side of the trip.

  She had to learn to let her children go and trust God to take things up where she had left off. He, after all, was a better parent than she.

  CHAPTER

  Sixty-Six

  Cathy couldn’t sleep that night. She put off going to bed, and instead, walked from room to room in her house, looking for evidence of her children. Rick was out late with friends, and the house felt empty. She went to the back window and peered out onto the construction work, on the foundation that had been laid weeks ago and the boards that were going up to form the framework of her new life.

  She tried to picture her new bedroom with Steve, him sitting in the rocker pulling on his shoes, combing his hair, shaving over the sink. It had been a long time since she’d had a husband. She wished she could just marry him and bring him into the family, with his strong hands of support, his broad shoulder to cry on when she thought of her empty nest. She wished she had Tracy’s little-girl laughter filling up the silence.

  But she couldn’t marry him yet. Not until Mark felt better about things.

  She went to the cabinet and found the old home videos that she and Jerry had made when Mark was just a little boy, and she chose one of Christmas when he was only three. She popped it into the VCR and sat down across from the television, intent on finding the little boy her son had once been, the little girl to whom she had just waved good-bye, and the firstborn who was preparing to move away in just days.

  She watched Mark skipping along, holding his father’s hand…and Jerry waving at the camera. That skipping had always made Jerry smile.

  She watched as the father picked up the child and put him on his shoulder, then acted as if he was going to buck him off. Mark screamed and squealed with laughter. Annie bounced up and down next to her dad.

  “Do me next, Daddy!” she cried. “Do me.”

  Rick, only seven, tried to act cool while awaiting his own turn.

  Then the picture changed, and Cathy saw herself at a younger age. She tried to imagine what she had felt like when she’d had a man in the home, a father for her children, an intact family unit. It had been a very long time.

  She put in another video, shot when Mark was a little older. Cathy studied it for his facial expressions, the bounce in his step, the smile in his eyes. He had stopped skipping when his father left. The twinkle in his eye had dimmed then, too. Was that where his life had turned? Had he been headed, ever since then, toward the prison that now held him? She couldn’t say for sure, didn’t even want to try. But he had lost his innocence a long time ago.

  At just after midnight, she heard the car door slam in the garage. She looked up as Rick came into the house and closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Mom, what are you doing up? You have to work tomorrow.”

  “I know,” she said. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

  He studied her as if he had caught her at something, then glanced at the TV screen. “What are you watching?”

  “Just an old video,” she said, “of when you and Mark and Annie were little. I was just watching Mark’s face. It’s hard to remember him that young and carefree.”

  Rick smiled at the picture on the screen. “He used to skip,” Rick said. “Do you remember?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “I was just thinking about that.”

  He sat down opposite her and regarded her for a moment. She recognized the concern on his face. “Why didn’t Steve come over tonight?”

  “He had to get Tracy to bed,” she said. “We talked on the phone, but he has to get up early, so he went on to bed.”

  Rick looked from her to the video, then back again. “You okay about Annie?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, Annie’ll be fine.”

  He sat there a moment, letting silence fall like wet dew between them. In a weaker, more doubtful voice, he asked, “You okay about Mark?”

  Her smile faded. She frowned slightly and looked at the video again. “I’m getting there.”

  He tipped his head and gave her another gentle look. “You okay about me?”

  She thought about that for a moment, then took in a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve told you how proud I am of you, Rick. I mean, with Annie going to the mission field and Mark getting a lot of the attention, I’ve just mostly been grateful for you. But I haven’t said it enough.”

  “Why? What did I do?”

  “You’re just a good kid,” she said. “I’m proud of the way you’re helping Daniel learn to drive, and how you got him that job, and how you’re mentoring him.”

  “Mentoring?”

  “Yeah, you know, the big brother kind of thing. He needed that, I think.”

  “Well, I just kind of felt like it was a way to help, since I couldn’t help Mark.”

  “I know,” she said. “It was a good thing. You’re a sweet boy. You’re going to make somebody a wonderful husband. And some day you’re going to be a great father.”

  He looked at her as if she were crazy. “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” she said. “I raised you. I know what you’re like. Why would that surprise you?”

  He shrugged and looked back at the screen. “Well, it’s not like I’ve had a great role model. For being a father, I mean.”

  Rick rarely said anything negative about his father, so the observation surprised her. “You don’t think so?”

  “No. I’m disappointed in him,” Rick said. “The way he’s acting toward Mark. I just don’t get it. I think he might just not want to be bothered. And he’s acting funny to Annie and me, too. He doesn’t want us to bring up Mark’s name because he knows we’re going to hound him about visiting. And then he didn’t even show up today to see Annie off.”

  “She told me they said their good-byes last weekend,” Cathy said. “It is kind of awkward, you know, having the ex-husband and ex-wife there alongside each other.”

  “Get over it, Mom,” Rick said. “That’s the way things are. You’ll both be at our weddings. When my first kid celebrates his third birthday I’m going to invite both you and Dad. You’re going to have to learn to get along with each other.”

  “I know,” she said, “and I will.”

  He stared down at his feet for a long moment, and she wondered if he was trying to picture it. His own home with a wife and children. His mother and father standing across a birthday cake from each other. “Why don’t you go to bed, Mom?” he asked finally. “You’re going to be wiped out in the morning.”

  She nodded, clicked off the television, and wearily got up. “Guess I will.”

  She kissed him good night. As she stepped into her bedroom, she heard him turning on David Letterman. The bedroom felt big and lonely and cold, and she longed to have Steve there beside her, helping her to relax in the safety and security of his arms, knowing she wasn’t alone, that someone who loved her dearly was there beside her and would be there when she woke up.

  She got into her bed and lay on her side for a moment, knowing sleep wasn’t going to come easily. She looked at the phone and thought about calling Steve, just talking to him into the night, as if they were teenagers in love. She knew it would wake him up, and that wasn’t fair. But the longer she lay there, the lonelier the room became.

  Finally, she picked up
the phone and dialed his number.

  He answered with a hoarse, groggy voice on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “I woke you up,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  She heard sheets rustling, as if he was sitting up. “Cathy. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Just lonely for you.”

  “You sure, for me?” he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Not for Annie, or Mark?”

  “Them, too,” she whispered. “But mostly you right now.”

  “Then I’m glad you called.”

  “You sure?” she asked. “Because it was really selfish of me, waking you up. I should have just laid here and toughed it out.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” he said. “You never have to tough it out again, Cathy. Your lonely nights could come to an end real soon. All you have to do is marry me. Then you can just turn over and nudge me in the side, and I’ll wake up.”

  “I know,” she whispered. She turned on her back and pulled the phone with her. “I was just watching videos of Mark, thinking back to when he was a little boy. Trying to figure out where the road turned.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself, Cathy.”

  “I had to remember,” she whispered. “I had to see it, so I’d know I hadn’t just made it up in my mind.”

  “I love you, Cathy. I wish I could give you back all the years Jerry took away from you.”

  She smiled. She knew he would do that if he could, no matter the cost. Just the knowing made her feel better. “You’re a good man, Steve Bennett. I’m going to let you go back to sleep now.”

  He sat there a moment like a teenaged boy who didn’t want to cut the connection, and finally he whispered, “Good night. Call me back if you need me, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “‘Cause I’m just seven digits away. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, and quietly hung up the phone.

  The calming balm of Steve’s voice helped her fall asleep, and she rested despite the images of her kids as young children, skipping and begging for their turn…

  What was Mark thinking right now?

  Had Annie landed yet?

  She thanked the Lord that one of her chicks was still in the nest, even if he wouldn’t be there much longer. The knowledge that someone was in the house gave her great peace, and finally she drifted into a restless sleep.

  CHAPTER

  Sixty-Seven

  Annie’s stomach tied itself in knots as her plane touched down in Managua. For the last few weeks, her life had revolved around her preparation for getting here. She hadn’t given much thought to being here. She tried to swallow the knot in her throat as she clutched her duffel bag and stood in the aisle, waiting for the passengers to move off the plane.

  Spanish conversations were exchanged all around her. She’d heard them all the way here, and it had seemed like a novelty at first. Now she realized that she was the foreigner, in a country where she didn’t speak the language. She should have paid more attention in Spanish class. Or at least bought tapes and brushed up before she came.

  A tear dropped to her cheek, but she brushed it away. She thought of little Miguel and the other children she would get to know. She didn’t feel much older than they. What on earth did she have to offer them?

  She followed the passengers up the aisle and off the plane. As she walked through the jet bridge, she wondered what she would do if Sylvia wasn’t waiting for her? How would she call her? How would she get to León?

  But as soon as she entered the terminal, she saw her favorite neighbor across the crowd, laughing and waving as if she bubbled over with delight at the sight of her. “Annie!”

  Annie’s fears melted away, and she ran to Sylvia and threw her arms around her.

  “You’re here!” Sylvia cried. “Bless your heart, you’re here!”

  Annie’s tears vanished as her purpose returned.

  When Sylvia pulled her car up to load her bags, Annie thought she was putting her on. “Sylvia, this is not your car!”

  Sylvia gave an amused look at the beat-up Fiat they had bought when they’d first come here. “Sorry, but it is. I told you there were no frills here.”

  Annie tried not to look shocked as she pulled on the passenger door handle. It stuck.

  “I’ll get it,” Sylvia said. She got in on the driver’s side and gave the passenger door a good kick. It jolted open. “You just have to know how.”

  Annie stood there a moment, looking into the car as her dignified older neighbor ducked slightly in the front seat to avoid the dented roof. She struggled to get her feet back in front of her.

  Annie didn’t mean to, but she started to laugh. She tried to stop it, tried to get serious, but the harder she tried, the funnier things seemed. Sylvia began to laugh, too, and Annie leaned against the car to support herself.

  “You used to drive a Cadillac!” Annie screamed with laughter. She took a deep breath and tried to stop. “I’m sorry, Sylvia. I just can’t picture you driving this.”

  “You’re about to, honey.” Sylvia wiped the tears her laughter had produced and came around the car. She picked up Annie’s suitcase and crammed it into the backseat. “You should have seen me when Harry came home with it. I laughed, too. Thought it was one of the best jokes he’d ever played on me. Then I cried, until I realized it really was all we could get. And it runs okay. We haven’t had many problems with its engine.”

  Still laughing, Annie tried to help her wedge the suitcase behind the seats, but Sylvia had some bags piled up, and they were in the way. They fell against each other laughing.

  Sylvia let go of the suitcase and put her arms around the girl. “Oh, it’s going to be good to have you here. Harry and I need more laughter.” She let her go and shoved at the suitcase again.

  Annie sighed and let her laughter die. “What’s all this stuff?” she asked.

  “Bags of beans and rice,” Sylvia said. “I picked some supplies up before I came to the airport. It should get us through a few days. I wish I’d had more room. I thought of tying some on top but I was afraid we’d have to do that with your luggage.” She pulled the seat back. “There. It’s in.”

  Annie eyed the car again. The thought of riding in it didn’t seem quite as amusing as it had at first. “Will this get us all the way to León?”

  “It’ll have to,” Sylvia said. “Don’t worry. It has every time before.”

  Annie got into the car and stuffed her carry-on bag in front of her. She sat with it at her feet, trying to get comfortable.

  “That door may not close well once you get it open,” Sylvia said. “Here, let me do it.”

  She came around and slammed it several times, trying to make it click. When it finally did, she warned her not to lean on it. She got in and started the car, then looked over at Annie. “I told you it’s not like Breezewood.”

  Annie just grinned. “I was about to say that the bags and the suitcase are keeping you from seeing out the back window…but you can’t, anyway, with the plastic taped on like that.”

  Sylvia chuckled and started to pull out into traffic. Annie felt as if she needed to swing her body forward to help give the car some pickup. “That window was one of our biggest frustrations the first few months we were here. Someone smashed our window to steal something out of the car. We ordered a replacement window, but it never came. Still hasn’t come, to this day.” She patted Annie’s leg. “It’s no Cadillac, but it gets us where we need to go.”

  “So the place where you live, is it kind of like the car?” Annie asked, bracing herself.

  “Oh, no, honey. Don’t worry about that. We have a nice place to live. We make our sacrifices where we have to, but sometimes they’re not required.”

  “Thank heaven,” Annie said, leaning her head back on the torn seat. “I was picturing an adobe hut with plastic windows duct-taped on.”

&
nbsp; Sylvia burst out laughing again and patted Annie’s hand. “No, our windows are real glass,” she said, “and they’re all in one piece so far. It’s not Cedar Circle, but it’s home.”

  They chattered all the way to León, about Mark and Rick and Daniel’s accident and Cathy and Steve.

  But as they reached the city of León, Annie got quiet and looked around at the red-roofed houses up on the mountains on one side of the town, and the lush green vegetation coloring the landscape.

  “We’re not going straight to the house,” Sylvia said. “We have to go by the clinic to let Dr. Harry see that you made it okay, then we’ve got to go over to the food distribution center and start cooking for the evening meal.”

  Annie shot her a look. “People are coming tonight?”

  “You bet they are. They heard I was getting fresh supplies in Managua, so there’ll be more tonight than usual. We’ve been real low on supplies lately, and we’ve had to turn people away.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “I know,” Sylvia told her, “but we’re working on selling the house, and as soon as we do, we shouldn’t have that problem anymore.”

  Annie got quiet.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “Well, it’s just my mom. She’s lost an awful lot lately. I hate to see her lose you, too.”

  “She’s not going to lose me. Heavens. She’ll never lose me.”

  “Well, I know, but your house sitting there was kind of a symbol of you. Once you sell it, it’s not going to be you anymore. I don’t know how she can handle that on top of everything else.”

  “Well, as soon as you write home and tell her about all the great work you’re doing with the money we make on the house, she’ll know it was the right choice,” Sylvia said.

  They ran by the clinic, and Dr. Harry made a big fuss over Annie, taking her around to meet all the people who worked there with him. Then they got back into the car and headed over to the food center. Since it was in a building adjacent to the orphanage, several of the orphans helped to cook the evening meal.

  Annie’s heart broke when she saw the real faces of the children she had only seen in pictures. Again, she wished she’d spent more time trying to learn their language.