Isle of Hope

by Julie Lessman

  “Your dad told me last week, honey,” she said quietly, determined to fight the sting of tears that threatened. “Everything—from kicking you out of the house to the hateful things he said about you ruining Jack’s dreams of seminary.” She blinked hard to dispel the persistent moisture that lined the inside of her lids, her words fading to an aching whisper. “Right up to his prideful delay in providing a surgery that just might have saved our girl.” Swallowing her grief, she lifted her chin in an effort to go on. “But as tragic as it was for me to hear, it bonded us in a way that allowed me to talk to him about God. Which is why he finally confessed his guilt to you last night at dinner.” Her eyes softened. “He’s given his life to Christ, Lacey, and that’s largely because of you and your faithfulness in forgiving him and seeking restoration.”

  A river of regret, and perhaps reverence and awe, flowed down Lacey’s face, but when she collapsed onto the table in a broken sob, Tess could no more stop from swallowing her up in a ferocious hug than she could stem the flow of her own tears. “Aw, honey, I forgive you for not telling me,” she whispered as she knelt by her side, “but were you ever planning to?”

  Tess felt Lacey’s shaky nod against her chest, her voice thick with nasal fluid and grief. “Eventually, y-yes, b-but not in the b-beginning,” she began, her violent shudders causing her words to stutter. “I’d p-planned to give the b-baby up. But when she was b-born sick, I … I j-just couldn’t let her g-go, so I decided to k-keep her. And I would have t-told you eventually, I swear. But then s-she d-died …” Lacey collapsed against Tess’s shoulder, her heaves racking both of their bodies.”

  “Shhh, sweetheart, it’s behind us now,” Tess whispered, gently rocking Lacey as if she were her very own. “And our precious little girl will greet us someday in heaven.”

  Lacey jerked away, her swollen eyes a tortured plea. “I planned to t-tell you soon, Tess, I promise, b-both you and Jack, b-but I was s-so scared you would h-hate me.” She swiped at the tears on her face while Tess rose to hand her a paper napkin from the caddy in the center of the table. Tugging a chair close to Lacey’s, she perched on the edge while Lacey blew her nose.

  “I w-wanted to re-establish our relationship first, b-before I d-did.” Lacey hiccupped loudly, the sound bringing a trace of a smile to Tess’s lips. “B-but now that Jack and I are b-back together, I’m s-so afraid it will ruin what we have.” More moisture pooled in her eyes as she clung to Tess like a lost little girl. “Oh, Tess, I’m so afraid he’ll h-hate m-me …”

  “Sweetheart, Jack loves you—always has, and although he’s likely to be shocked and upset and yes, even angry for a time like his mother …” She pulled away to cup Lacey’s face in her hands, tender affection warming her gaze. “He’ll get over it, just like I did when I realized how God has brought beauty from ashes when we put our hope in Him.”

  Lacey slapped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, giving an angry sniff. “But it shouldn’t have been like this,” she hissed with a slam of her fist to the table. “If I hadn’t tempted Jack beyond his control that night, and if Daddy hadn’t begrudged Mom and me from the beginning, Jack and I might be married now with a sweet little girl named Hope Olivia and heaven knows how many others.”

  She gouged fingers into her hair on either side of her head with a painful groan that revealed her intense frustration. “It’s just not fair! Because of me and my stupid, selfish sin, I triggered a chain reaction of death—first in my relationship with Jack, Cat, and my father, then in the death of my baby, death of your marriage and that of my parent’s, and finally the death of my mother.” She stared at Tess, wild-eyed. “The wages of sin is death, Tess, and boy oh boy, I earned a killer paycheck on this one.”

  Tess grabbed Lacey’s hands. “Stop it,” she whispered, an urgency in her tone. “You are not responsible for other people’s sins, do you hear? And you are certainly not responsible for the death of your child.” She clutched Lacey’s arms, stilling her with the intensity of her gaze, the caress of her thumbs. “Life is messy, darling, because human beings are fallible and prone to sin, all of us. Our sins are webs we weave that lock us in, trap us into the sticky and sinister world of guilt and shame.” Her chin lifted despite the barest trace of a quiver. “But our God has set us free.”

  More tears slipped from Lacey’s eyes. “I know,” she whispered, her nasal words trailing into pain, “but it’s not fair that everybody has to suffer because I messed up …”

  Tess enveloped her in a tender hold, stroking her hair with the soothing touch of a mother. “Unfortunately, darling, sin is never fair, but it is redeemable.” She deposited a kiss to Lacey’s hair and gently lifted her chin, smiling into her soggy eyes. “In a sinless world, Lacey, God’s perfect will would always prevail, which is what eternity is all about, but in a fallen world like ours where He’s given us free will?” She caressed the side of Lacey’s face with the tips of her fingers. “His permissive will takes over for each of us, allowing good and bad through the choices we make. Like it or not, people are attached to our obedience and our sin, and whether we choose life or death, blessing or curse, God’s way or the world’s—there is redemption and hope in His Name.” She tugged on Lacey’s ponytail with a smile. “Not to mention untold blessings that have a way of sneaking in the back door.”

  Lacey sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her wrist. She hopped up to wash her hands and snatch a Kleenex from Tess’s window shelf, then trudged back to plop into her chair, face and eyes all puffy. “Such as?”

  “Well …” Tess rose to fetch them both a tall glass of peach iced tea, smiling over her shoulder as she pulled the pitcher from the fridge. “For one thing, God redeemed your soul and then your life when He led you back to Isle of Hope—where, I might add …” She washed a fresh peach from a bowl on the counter and sliced a thick wedge, slitting and sliding it onto the rim of Lacey’s glass. “You get to enjoy, and I quote, ‘the nectar of the gods, bar none.’”

  That coaxed a misty grin from Lacey’s lips. “Definitely.”

  “And,” Tess continued, delivering both of their teas to the table, “He not only restored and deepened my son’s faith through you—a prayer of mine for years now …” Her lips trembled as she fought the rise of more saltwater, “but He also used you to redeem your father’s soul, Lacey, setting him on the path to be the man and father God always intended him to be.”

  Lacey’s face crumpled as more moisture dribbled down her cheeks.

  “Oh, honey …” Tess put her tea down to sweep Lacey into her arms again, her chuckle low against the young woman’s hair. “And you know what’s the biggest blessing of all?”

  Tess grinned when Lacey shook her head with a little-girl sniff. She kissed her wet nose, swiping away two giant crocodile tears. “You, sweetheart—a beautiful blessing to me, my family, my son, and your father. And all because our God redeemed a wrong choice your mom and dad made when they were not much younger than you and my son.” She caressed the damp jaw of this beautiful woman who would, hopefully, one day be a daughter in name as well as in heart. “Because you see, Lacey, not only does our God redeem and restore human beings, He redeems and restores the mistakes they make as well, turning tears of mourning into tears of joy.”

  Lacey lunged into her arms, luring another chuckle to Tess’s lips. “Oh, Tess, I love you so much, and I thank God every day for the blessing of you in my life.”

  Tess squeezed her tightly, pressing a kiss to her head before pulling back to smile with deep affection. “And I thank God every day for the blessing of you in my family, sweetheart, because I have a feeling that this time, it’s really going to happen.”

  The hazel eyes dimmed as Lacey gnawed at her lip. “ I pray you’re right, but I can’t help but worry that once Jack hears the truth about the baby, it might ruin everything we have.”

  Tess’s chest cramped as water swam in her eyes. “Oh, honey …” Her lip trembled, a mixture of joy, hope, and confidence swelli
ng in her chest. “When guided by love, the truth never ruins hope, darling,” she whispered, “it only sets it free.”

  Chapter Forty

  Jack’s lure sailed through the air for the zillionth time, soundlessly slicing into the moonlit water, definitely more of a mindless twitch than a skilled cast. The last time he was this nervous was when he took his final boards, his hope for the future shimmering brighter than the diamond ring in his pocket. “Thank you,” he whispered, gaze scanning the starry sky with more hope and joy than he ever believed possible, “for healing my heart of bitterness—first with Lacey and then with You.” His jawbone tensed almost imperceptibly. “And someday, God willing—with my father.”

  His phone vibrated inside his back jean pocket, and switching the rod to his other hand, he fished it out, almost fumbling it into the water when he read his mother’s text.

  She’s on her way.

  The air in his lungs instantly clotted, as thick and humid as the sweltering summer night, in total contrast to the sudden sprint of his pulse. “For crying out loud, O’Bryen,” he muttered, ramming the phone back in his pocket before tossing the rod and reel onto the dock. “This isn’t the M-CAT here, so chill.” Grabbing the lighter sitting on top of the linen-clad table, he lit the staggered candlesticks in the center, his stomach jumping more than the flames that flickered in the summer breeze. He assessed the table with a critical eye—the gleaming china, polished silverware, and envelope-fold napkin his mother had devised, tucked with a Lindt truffle that Lacey loved—and deemed it perfect. He pulled an extra truffle from his pocket and slipped it into the fold with a satisfied smile.

  And one special one with a ring inside.

  “Oh my, Dr. O’Bryen … judging from the trappings of one the most elegant picnics I’ve seen since I was eighteen, am I correct in assuming you have ulterior motives?” Lacey strolled onto the ramp with a fold of her toned arms, looking luscious enough in a white strapless sundress to set off a whole new set of ulterior motives. His gaze slid from bronzed shoulders kissed by loose strands of silky gold, down a petite but curvy figure that had always driven him wild. A sudden breeze billowed her short flared skirt, showcasing some of the prettiest legs he’d ever seen on a woman.

  “Oh, you bet,” he said, voice husky as he hooked her close to nibble her ear, the scent of peaches kicking his hormones into overdrive. She squealed when he dove for her neck. “But first—we eat.”

  “Uh, that’s what I’m afraid of …” Chuckling, she squirmed away, palms flat to his chest, looking so adorable with that warning lift of her chin and schoolmarm smile that he wanted to forego dinner altogether and go right for dessert. Which was exactly why he’d decided he wasn’t waiting any longer to ask Lacey to marry him … not the second time around. He’d been in love with her for years, dated her for three, and was promised to her for one before he’d lost her the first time. As far as he was concerned, he wanted to get on with his life. A sudden swell of waves crashed onto the shore, as if in protest.

  Correction: their life.

  Beginning with a very short engagement.

  He kissed her nose and pulled out her chair. “Don’t worry, Mike—you’re not on the menu,” he said, nudging her into her seat before he scooted the chair in. He opened the sparkling grape juice from an ice bucket on the table while he gave her a smoky look that toasted her cheeks. “Although there are no guarantees for later.” A jittery laugh slipped from her lips, and for the first time he homed in on her off-kilter smile and skittish look, noting the red rim of her eyes while tiny beads of sweat glazed her brow. He set the bottle down and squatted to face her, features pinched in concern. “You okay, Lace?”

  “I’m fine, Jack,” she said, a trace of nasal hoarseness in a voice that sounded anything but, “just a little warm and very, very hungry, mister.”

  He gently brushed strands of her hair over her shoulder. “Good, because I have all your favorites, babe—chicken salad on croissants, sour cream ripple chips, and—”

  “Oreo overload?” The tension in her eyes gave way to a little-girl excitement that never failed to melt him into a puddle.

  His low chuckle merged with the sound of water lapping against the dock and crickets crooning on the shore. “Come on, Mike …” he whispered, eyes sheathing closed as he gently swayed his lips against hers. “I graduated med school—what do you think?” He nodded over his shoulder at the cooler stowed next to the storage chest.

  Her lip started to quiver. “Oh, Jack …” Lunging into his arms, she almost took them both down. “I love you so much,” she whispered, the raspy quality back in force while she clung as if she would never let go.

  He bent his head to hers, a tiny seed of concern sprouting over her rare melancholy mood. “Me too, babe.” Pressing a kiss to her hair, he pulled away, smile softening at the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Okay, are we going to have to start with a pre-dessert to cheer you up?” With a teasing shake of his head, he nudged the envelope napkin forward, his heart suddenly pounding harder than the breakers on the shore.

  With a swipe at her eyes, a tiny grin peeked through. “Pre-dessert?”

  Jack grinned. “Maybe.”

  She fished her fingers into the napkin pocket and immediately squealed. “Truffles—you remembered!”

  His brows slashed low in a mock scowl. “For crying out loud, Carmichael, give me a little credit, will you?”

  She peeled the paper from the copper-colored ball first like he knew she would—peanut butter, her favorite—then popped it in her mouth with a sassy smile. “You keep this pampering up, O’Bryen, and I’ll be giving you way more than credit …”

  Jack fought a gulp, his throat going bone dry.

  “Mmm …” Her lids flickered closed, a low moan escaping as she savored the chocolate while Jack savored her. The glazed look she gave him when she opened her eyes made him grin. “Oh, yum, Jack, I forgot how much I loved these things—haven’t had one in years.”

  He squinted. “Seriously? Why? You used to love ’em.”

  “Yeah, a little too much as I recall.” Her smile turned dreamy. “Along with the boy who first gave them to me,” she said softly, more moisture glimmering in her eyes.

  “Well, then, you have some catching up to do, so one more now and the rest after dinner—atop an Oreo overload, okay?”

  Her watery gaze twinkled as she scooped up the second truffle. “Deal. Mmm … white chocolate, my second favorite …” Fingers deft, she wasted no time untwisting the cellophane outside wrapper while Jack jumped up, pretending preoccupation with pouring the grape juice. Tongue tucked into the corner of her mouth, she started to peel the gold foil while he held his breath. All at once, her brows dipped. Slowly rotating the chocolate ball with her fingers, she examined it like a specimen under a scope, confusion puckering her features. “What the heck …?” She sniffed, obviously noticing the hairline split, then rolled it and sniffed again, finally parting the fissure ever so carefully. The whites of her eyes expanded in slow motion as something clunked on the table, covered with white-chocolate goo. When moisture brimmed in her eyes, he knew it had clicked, everything falling perfectly in place.

  Just like their new life.

  Hand trembling, she picked up the tiny bag to gently finger it, water streaming her cheeks. “Oh, Jack …”

  “No, babe …” He rose from his chair and moved to her side of the table, immediately dropping to one knee. “The proper response, Alycia Anne Carmichael,” he whispered, removing the ring from the bag and holding it aloft, “is ‘Yes, Jack.’”

  She hesitated too long for comfort, the tears in her eyes flowing too freely now for a woman about to say yes. Only she didn’t. Instead she clutched quivering arms to her waist, while his ring—and his heart—remained suspended in air. She lowered her head. “Oh, Jack …”

  Not the reaction he was looking for.

  “Lace?” Ring in one hand, he lifted her chin with the other, heart rate careening into an irregular beat. �
�Babe, what’s wrong? You do want to …” He swallowed the fear in his throat while he gently kneaded her arm, Adam’s apple ducking hard. “Marry me, don’t you?”

  The look she gave him was more of a woman in pain than a woman in love, and for several ragged beats of his pulse, his world dangled as precariously as the ring.

  She peered up beneath lids weighted with grief. “More than anything in this world,” she whispered, her voice shrinking into a mournful sigh. “But first, I need to tell you something.”

  A brain freeze swallowed him whole, as if the clench in his chest was privy to some vile news he didn’t want to know. Placing the ring on her plate, he stood without a word and reclaimed his seat, carefully leaning back in his chair with a tight brace of arms. “Whatever it is, it won’t affect our relationship.” His words sounded a whole lot more confident than he.

  “I hope not,” she said quietly, the quiver in her voice icing his skin. She avoided his eyes while she traced the ring with the tip of a shaky finger. “Or at least I pray not.”

  The muscles in his gut constricted. He was not a man prone to anger. Not unless something posed a threat.

  To the woman he loved.

  To family.

  To friends.

  To a child.

  “For crying out loud, Lacey, spit it out,” he said too sharply, rattling the dishes when he slammed a fist on the table in an uncommon show of temper. One of his mother’s wine glasses goosed in the air before it rolled off the table and crashed on the dock, breaking into several jagged pieces.

  Her body jumped, hand recoiling like the ring had singed her finger. Palm to her chest, she stuttered, words tumbling forth as if the crash of his fist had jolted them loose. “Okay, J-Jack, then, h-here it is—I d-didn’t leave eight years ago because I d-didn’t love you enough …” She sucked in air as if gorging all the strength she would need, “I left because I loved you too much.”