He knocked on Emma’s door, and he remembered hundreds of times when he’d done this very thing at her mother’s house — times when he’d ridden his bike to her front door and times when he’d driven to see her after he bought his ’65 Mustang the year he turned seventeen. Her red Cabriolet was parked in the driveway, so it was easy to feel lost in an old scene.
She answered the door, sunglasses firmly in place. She wore a short-sleeve sundress, one that flowed down around her knees but was completely modest. The way her long hair hung around her shoulders, Brad had to force himself to remember the reason he was there. He gave her a quick hug. “Thank you.”
“I’m not sure why I’m going.” She gave him a weary smile.
“Maybe we’ll know afterward.”
They said little as they rode in his Jeep to the church a few blocks away.
The place was made of red brick, small but friendly looking with large trees framing the grounds. Already people were milling about, children chasing each other and parents standing in small clusters of conversation.
“I can’t do this.” Emma held tight to the door handle. She removed her sunglasses and pleaded with Brad. “I don’t belong here.”
“Neither of us do.” Brad looked out at the people already there. “No one belongs here.” He smiled sadly. “I think that’s the whole point.”
“People will recognize me, Brad. Everyone knows me in this town.”
He hadn’t thought about that. “We’ll sit in the back.”
Again she reluctantly gave in. He climbed out first and held open her door. Together they walked in, exchanging greetings with several people as they moved inside the church building. “You know any of them?”
“Not yet.” Emma kept her eyes down, even after they found seats near the back.
Brad opened the church bulletin and the title of the sermon hit him with a force he hadn’t expected. Forgiveness — The Missing Peace. Only God could’ve done this … brought them here for a sermon that seemed written for them alone.
He nudged Emma and pointed at the title.
She read it, and he watched her eyes well up with tears. As the service began he had the feeling the room held just the pastor and the two of them. The message was from 1 John, chapter 1, and the words seemed to be for Brad and Emma alone. Brad took hold of her hand and wondered if she felt the same way about the message.
“If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteous ness.”
The purification process, the pastor went on to say, was where peace came from. “Forgiveness is the missing peace, the peace we’re all seeking.”
Beside him, Emma hung her head. Her tears slid down her cheeks and onto her dress, and Brad no longer had to wonder. The sermon was hitting her the same way. When the Service ended, the pastor talked to a dozen people and waited for the church to clear. The whole time, Emma and Brad stayed seated. Again, no one approached them, and Brad guessed it was painfully obvious that they needed their privacy. But when the pews were empty, the pastor walked back and stopped a few feet from them. Kindness marked his smile. “I’m Pastor Dave.” He held out his hand, and Brad shook it. “You’re new.”
Emma barely looked up, so Brad took the lead. “Yes, it’s our first time. I’m from out of town.” He looked at Emma, at the brokenness that emanated from her. “My friend here, Emma, she lives near the beach.”
“The next service doesn’t start for an hour. I can talk if you’d like.”
Brad had expected Emma wouldn’t want a conversation. She was clearly not crazy about being here, and the message had been difficult for both of them — even if it seemed directed right at them. But she looked at the pastor. “I have a question.” She wasn’t crying anymore, but her voice was laced with fear and sorrow.
“Ask it.” The pastor was in his late forties. His smile was warm and he didn’t seem the least bit judgmental. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Okay.” She tightened her hold on Brad’s hand. “Can God forgive anything?”
The pastor waited a few seconds. “Yes, definitely.” Compassion lightened his expression. “When a person confesses their sins, when true sorrow is expressed toward God, then yes. God will forgive. That’s why Jesus went to the cross.”
It seemed like Emma might add greater detail, but then she must’ve changed her mind. “If … I wanted to talk to someone some other time … not today, but later. A woman, maybe. Would there be someone you could recommend?”
“Several people.” His body language was open, inviting, his hands at his sides. “There’s a wonderful Christian counselor in town, and a few women’s support groups meet here. My wife’s another resource. She heads up the women’s ministry.”
Emma nodded. “I might … need to talk to someone.” She narrowed her eyes, her heartache spilling into her expression. “I want that peace … the peace you talked about.”
“It’s available. Jesus offers it to everyone.” He pulled a business card from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “What’s your last name, Emma?”
“Landon.” She moved to the edge of the pew and Brad sensed a new sort of strength inside her. “Emma Landon.”
If he recognized her as one of the teachers at the nearby elementary school, he didn’t say so. Instead he asked for her number. “I’ll have my wife give you a call. If you don’t mind.”
Emma hesitated, and silently Brad prayed for her. He was witnessing a breakthrough. Please God, don’t let anything stand in the way. Emma needs to be set free. We both do.
“Okay.” She looked quickly at him and at the pastor again. Then she cleared her throat and rattled off her number. Pastor Dave scribbled it on the back of another one of his cards. He shook Emma’s hand and then Brad’s. “Nice meeting both of you.”
“Thanks.” Brad released Emma’s hand. “We needed to be here.”
“It’s that way with all of us.” He hesitated. The small church was empty except for the three of them. “Would you mind … if I prayed for you?”
Brad looked at Emma, at the way she still seemed nervous and uncertain. It truly was a miracle that she’d even stepped foot in a church after so many years. He didn’t wait for her approval. Instead he cautiously nodded at the pastor, and he slipped his arm around Emma’s shoulders. “We’d like that. Thank you.”
“Okay.” The pastor smiled. “Let’s pray then.” He put one hand on Emma’s shoulder, the other on Brad’s. “Dear Father, these two young people are hurting. I can see that and certainly You can see that. I pray that whatever path has led them here, You would help them believe that this is where they’re supposed to be. Every moment in all their lives has led to this one, and You, Lord, are calling them, asking them to step into Your loving embrace.” He paused, his prayer unrushed. “You alone offer the healing we all need, Lord. The peace we all seek. You know the story of these two people. So please let this be a beginning for Brad and Emma. Where forgiveness is needed, let there be forgiveness. Where confession is required, let them confess. Be with them, Father. Let Emma find a point of connection with the women of our church, and let her feel Your love in this place and as she leaves here.” His smile sounded in his tone. “Thank You, Lord, for You are the Life-giver. You alone. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Pastor Dave thanked them again for coming, and he promised Emma that someone would call her soon. As they left, he looked deeply at her. “You’re going to be okay, Emma. Now that you’re here, you’re going to be okay.”
Emma didn’t say anything, but she stepped away from Brad and hugged the pastor. In a tortured whisper, she uttered the only words that seemed appropriate. “Thank you.”
Brad had no idea what to say to Emma as they left. He somehow felt silence was stronger than any words he might add to the pastor’s prayer.
When they reached the car, Emma turned to him. “I want to show you something. Do
wn on the beach.”
“Now?” He wore long pants and a short-sleeve dress shirt. His shoes still had sand in them from his earlier walk. “I have other clothes in the Jeep. Maybe we should change and meet at your house in half an hour.”
Emma agreed, and the ride back to her house took place in reverent silence. Something was happening — and Brad hoped it was the healing he’d prayed for. Whatever it was, Emma was different than she’d been that morning or yesterday. Stronger somehow. He smiled at her when he pulled up in front of her house. “I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” She held his eyes for a long moment. Then she climbed out and ran lightly up the stairs to her front door.
Brad found a café in town with a restroom where he switched into his khaki shorts and a navy blue T-shirt. He bought a bottle of water and drove through town, killing time, thinking of what Emma might want to show him. The hour passed quickly, and Brad returned to her front door. She opened it, wearing white Capris and a red shirt. She looked beautiful, though he wasn’t about to say so. She had something to show him on the beach, and he prayed they might talk about the sermon, about her thoughts on God and what came next in their healing. He had to stay focused.
“Come in for a minute.” Her dog was beside her, and she smiled down at him as she rubbed behind his ear. “Riley’s a good dog.”
“Hi, boy.” Brad patted his head. He’d been too distracted to pay Riley much attention the other night. “He’s huge for a lab.”
“It’s all muscle.” She laughed, giving the dog a hearty side rub. “Right, buddy? You’re all muscle.”
Brad liked seeing this, a happy part of Emma’s new life. “You run with him, right?”
“All the time.” She looked at him, and the transparency in her eyes took his breath. Whatever distance had built up between them over the years, it was gone now. “Go sit in the living room. I need to let Riley out.”
He did as she asked, finding his place on the floral sofa, the place where they’d cried in each other’s arms the day before. When she returned, she was carrying a cardboard box. She sat down and put the box on the floor in front of her.
Brad wanted to slide closer, take a better look at whatever was inside the box. But he held his ground, maintaining the slight distance between them. In some ways this was dangerous territory, here alone with Emma Landon. He was enjoying himself, enjoying the way he felt beside her. He reminded himself to keep his heart in check. Today there was a sense of urgency, a determination to make the most of the time they had left. Brad was pretty sure they both felt it. “I thought … you wanted to show me something on the beach.”
“I do.” The sadness that was a part of her now was back. “I found this box after church. I wanted you to see a few things in it.”
Brad angled himself so he was facing her. The first thing she pulled from the box was a weathered teddy bear with a pink ribbon around his neck.
“Remember this?” She handed it to him. “You won it for me at the fair the summer before you started high school.”
He touched the worn fur and a rush of memories came back. “I told you to sleep with it every night through eighth grade. Until we could be at the same school again.”
Emma carefully took the bear from him and cuddled it close, in a way that made her look like a young girl again. “I slept with it until the day you left for college. Every night.”
He pictured her laying next to the old bear and longing for a way to keep what they’d once shared. The picture made him want to hold her again, tell her once more how sorry he was. But she didn’t seem to want his pity today. She breathed in deep the smell of the bear and then she set it gently back in the box.
Next she pulled out a high school yearbook, its red cover emblazoned with the words, Wilmington High — Class of 1999. The year Brad graduated. “We brought these home at the end of May.” She lifted her eyes to his and the message was unmistakable. The end of May. Before they started taking trips to Holden Beach. Before everything changed.
“Emma …” He wasn’t sure he could do this. No amount of looking through yesterday’s treasures would take them back. Tears welled in his eyes. “I’m not sure …”
“Please.” Her eyes held a strength he didn’t feel. “I want you to remember us … the way we were … before. What happened that summer, our choices ruined everything. But when I found this box.” She looked down for a moment, and a fondness shone in her eyes. “When I found this, I remembered how great it really was before. Please … remember it with me.”
He didn’t need to be coaxed into remembering. He was already there, as soon as she brought the teddy bear from the box. He nodded, his throat too tight to say anything.
Emma ran her hand over the cover of the yearbook, and then as if the pages were somehow sacred, she opened it to the front cover. “Here,” she handed it to him. “Read what you wrote.”
Brad didn’t want to, but he had no choice. He needed this, needed to remember how much he had truly loved her. The past nine years when he looked back, all he saw was how things ended. How terribly sad and awkward they’d been when they parted ways for good. But this … this would tell the truth about his feelings. He took the yearbook onto his lap and saw his familiar handwriting. Emma watched as he started at the beginning, his own voice playing silently in his mind.
My sweet, precious Emma … how can I be leaving high school already? Remember when our days together seemed like they’d go on forever? Like the routine of waking up and heading off to school felt like it would never end? But here it is, and I have to tell you a few things. First, nothing’s going to change between us. I’ll go to UNC, and you’ll join me in a year. You have your bear, so he can keep you company when I’m not here.
Brad blinked back tears. He reached for Emma’s hand and held it as he continued reading. Every memory I have is colored by you, by your laughter and love. I thank God that you and I have put Him first. We’ve stayed away from the stupid stuff everyone else is doing, and we’ll stay away from it until the day I marry you. And I will marry you, Emma. No one ever loved you more than I do.
Tears trickled down Brad’s face and splashed onto the page. He dabbed at them, struggling to keep control. He had loved her. This was more proof than he needed. He blinked and found his place again.
Graduation is just another phase. We’ve been through grade school and middle school. We even survived Wilmington High. I know with all my heart we’ll survive what’s next, and one day … one day I’ll give you that ring we always talk about. You are my other half, Emma Landon. I love you and don’t you forget it. Always and forever … your love, your best friend … Brad.
“See …” Emma was still stoic, still not crying. As if by showing him these things she was somehow vindicated in the pain she’d carried all these years. “See how much you loved me, Brad.”
He wiped at his eyes. “I did. More than I wanted to remember.”
“The ending was ugly, and I think … I think you wanted to forget what happened before all that. But it happened.” She smiled, her eyes glistening. “We were something back then.”
“We were.” His eyes found his signature once more, the date he’d scribbled at the bottom of the page. May 26, 1999. When all of life seemed carefree and forever stretched out with all the certainty of the seasons.
Emma took the book from him. She touched the page, smiling as if she were seeing it for the first time again. Then slowly she closed the cover and set it back in the box. “One more thing.”
He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. They couldn’t go back to what they’d had, no way to undo the ugly ending. So why torture themselves now? Brad swallowed, but in a way he understood. Emma wanted him to remember the good times, the way they’d loved before they lost control. However hard it was, he owed her this.
She reached into the box and pulled out a coiled section of rope, and immediately Brad knew what it was. He felt fresh tears in his eyes. “Our rope.”
“I kept
it.”
Brad looked at it, then he lifted his eyes to her. “I have a picture. The two of us holding onto the ends.” He sniffed, unable to believe that this was it. The rope that had brought them together. “I always wondered … what happened to it.”
She stretched it out, running her hand over the soft fibers. “Craziest idea, making a couple of kids hold opposite ends of a rope for a whole week of recess.”
“I’m not sure …” he took hold of the other end. “I’m not sure I ever really let go.”
For the first time since they’d sat down, there were tears in her eyes too. “Me either.” She held tight to her side of the rope. “But after today … we have to. We both have to.”
He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. “I know.” He kept his hold on the rope and clenched his fist around it. Emma had kept the rope all this time? If he’d known that, would he really have left her after that awful summer? Holding the rope in his hand now made him wonder how they ever said good-bye, how they let life tear them apart. If only they’d found their way back to the rope, maybe … a million maybes.
“I’m ready.” She eased the rope from him, looped it, and held it to her side as she stood. “I want to take the rope to the beach, to the place I have to show you.”
She reached into the box and pulled out one more thing. A small envelope. Only this time she didn’t open it, didn’t let him see what was inside. She set the rope and the envelope in her beach bag and lifted it onto her shoulder. Outside, the clouds were back, but there was no rain in the forecast. They had only a few hours left. “Walk with me, okay? One last time, Brad.”
He wondered if his heart could take it. Gone now were all the lies he’d told himself, the lies about how Emma was someone he’d outgrown and how the relationship they’d shared was something young and less than serious. He had loved her more than life. They’d planned on forever, and they’d thrown it all away. He stood and nodded.
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