But now the last part of the verse practically shouted at her with significance. The scene from the hospital room shone brightly in her mind. Her entire family gathered around her hospital bed and the certain feeling that Sarah’s brief life and peaceful death had brought with them a number of changes in the people she loved—miracles that might otherwise not have happened.
In that time and place, the strain between her brother Luke and his wife, Reagan, had seemed gone entirely, the two of them holding tight to each other and their precious Tommy and Malin. The hurt feelings and distance that separated Ashley from her sister Brooke had faded with every photograph Brooke took, every minute of video footage, every teary-eyed look they shared.
And most of all, there was her newly found older brother, Dayne, and his wife, Katy. Never mind what the tabloids and stress of celebrity had done to them in their first months of marriage. While they stood in a room full of family, sharing the precious life of little Sarah, Ashley had no doubt they’d survive. All of them would survive, and they would do so with love and laughter and the faith that every moment of life is precious.
That would be Sarah’s legacy. But now, as the Scripture stayed in Ashley’s mind, she realized it wouldn’t only be Sarah’s legacy; it would be the Lord’s as well. Through the heartbreak of losing Sarah, God wanted all of them to understand something: He would be exalted. As relationships changed for the good around them, their heavenly Father would be exalted. In Dayne and Katy’s case, if they survived the onslaught of media attacks bound to take place in the coming months, God would be exalted the whole world over.
Just like the verse promised.
Chills ran down Ashley’s arms, and some of her sorrow was displaced by overwhelming joy and determination. Joy because of what God had started yesterday in the crowded hospital room. And determination because she suddenly knew how she’d survive the sadness of losing her newborn daughter. In the Lord’s strength, she would play peacemaker to the relationships that seemed most touched by Sarah’s few hours. She would make herself available and reach out as often as she could. She would pray for Luke and Reagan, for Brooke and herself, and for Dayne and Katy, and she would know two things for sure.
God would be exalted. And Sarah’s death would not be in vain.
John woke up early Wednesday morning and rolled over in bed. He stretched his hand across to the empty place where Elizabeth should’ve been. Most days now he could get through the morning and not think about her and how badly he still missed her. But this was different.
Today would’ve been their thirty-ninth wedding anniversary.
Can You let Elizabeth know how much I love her? He stared out the window. The sky was deep blue, same as it had been all week. When he’d looked ahead to this day, he figured he’d take a trip to the cemetery, because her body was there, and somehow it seemed right that he pay his respects.
John sat up and stretched his back. The problem was, he didn’t think of Elizabeth when he was at the cemetery. He thought of her here in their bed. Or in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea in her hands, a smile shining from her eyes. He thought of her in the rocker, the one next to his recliner in the living room across from the fireplace, with the mantel that held a framed photograph of each of their kids, including Dayne. He saw her across from him at the dining room table—no matter who was sitting in her chair—and he remembered her every time he walked along the path behind their house.
No, he wouldn’t go to the cemetery to mark the day when he and Elizabeth had made the best decision of their lives. He would make the oatmeal she loved with the egg whites and fresh blueberries. Then he’d go out back and take a walk, take in the changes life had brought and the changes still ahead.
Later maybe he’d work on the scrapbooks for their kids. He wanted to hand them out at Christmas because a collection of letters from their mother was the best gift he could possibly give them. Of course, by then he and Elaine . . .
A suffocating sadness came over him, and he drew a slow breath and stood. He couldn’t think about Elaine this morning. They had plans for tomorrow—breakfast out and a trip to the farmers’ market. She had something wrong with her trash compactor, so later in the day he planned to go to her house and try to fix it. She would make her special lasagna, and the hours would be full.
But today belonged to him and Elizabeth. It wasn’t something he and Elaine had talked about, but she knew it was his anniversary. Like last year on this date, she wouldn’t call.
John glanced at the photo of Elizabeth and him on the dresser, but he didn’t linger. Not at the picture and not at the top drawer that held a small velvet box he’d brought home one evening last week. He didn’t want to think about what lay inside the box or what future anniversary days would be like if he carried through with his intentions.
Instead he made his oatmeal, and after he’d done his dishes, he pulled on a Colts cap and went in the backyard. For a few seconds he didn’t move, didn’t do anything but breathe in the sweet smell of morning and countryside and the hint of roses in full bloom from the garden where Elizabeth planted them some twenty years ago.
He started walking and lifted his gaze to the blue beyond the trees that rimmed the back of their property. “I know I shouldn’t ask, God.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and kept on. “But I still don’t understand why. Why do You need her up there with You?” His voice was quiet, barely loud enough for him to hear. “She should be right here beside me.”
And she should have been. They would’ve talked about Katy and Dayne and whether the pressures of the reality show and the movies they were making might be too much. They’d share their concerns about Luke and Reagan and their sorrow for Ashley and Landon. They’d celebrate Kari and Ryan’s growing family and their gratitude about Brooke and Peter’s healed marriage. And they’d pray that Erin and Sam might move closer.
Elaine cared about his kids, but talking about them with her would never be the same because Elaine didn’t share their past. She had grown children of her own, after all. She hadn’t been there to grieve with him when Dayne was given up for adoption, and she wasn’t the one beside him rushing Brooke to the hospital for fifteen stitches the day she fell off her bike when she was in first grade. She hadn’t been there for birthdays or first days of school, for graduations or great vacations, for broken bones or broken hearts.
He took the footpath over the bridge, the one he’d improved a year ago so he and Cole would have a place to study the fish and catch frogs with the old net John kept in the garage. On the other side, he walked a little slower, following the path around a bend and out to the bench, where he and Elizabeth had sat together and talked more times than he could count.
Not only would he have to let go of the memories he and Elizabeth shared and the traditions that marked each holiday and the funny stories handed down over the years. But if he married Elaine, they’d have to find someplace to live. He sucked in a full breath and gripped the edge of the bench. As he did, he studied the back porch and windows of the old place. Elaine wouldn’t want to move into the Baxter house. She couldn’t compete with the memories of Elizabeth, and John wouldn’t want her to try. He wasn’t ready to move into her house either.
A wave of anxiety moved through his veins. He’d thought about selling the house before, and he always dismissed his concerns. But now, with the velvet box upstairs in his top dresser drawer, the time had come to think about the reality. They would have to live somewhere.
God, the whole thing makes me feel old and tired. He leaned back against the bench and closed his eyes. It would be easier to turn Elaine away. Stay here in the Baxter house surrounded by his kids and grandkids and his memories. The memories most of all. I had everything with Elizabeth, Lord. . . . Where am I supposed to go from here?
John waited, and at first there was no answer, just the sound of a robin moving about in the trees overhead and the rush of water in the nearby stream.
But th
en, like the softest breath against his skin, John felt a verse come to life in his heart. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
The words felt like water to his soul, and they breathed life into his heart. Matthew 11 was a section of Scripture John had come back to many times in his life. When Elizabeth had cancer the first time and when Luke went through his rebellious season after the tragedy of September 11. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. . . .”
The words expanded and filled his mind. There was always a reason why God placed a certain verse on his heart, and today was no exception. He was tired and weary. The burden of the decision before him was more than he could bear, especially on his anniversary.
He opened his eyes, and the message seemed clearer than the late-summer sky. If the thought of marrying Elaine was too much for him, then this wasn’t the time to make that move. Instead he needed to focus on the Lord, on God’s great and mighty power to lead and guide and grant wisdom wherever it was needed. To think about God’s faithfulness. In doing so, he would be taking on the Lord’s yoke and allowing God to dictate his next step.
For the most wonderful few seconds, John could almost feel Elizabeth sitting beside him. The memory of her was that strong. “Thirty-nine years . . .” He felt the sting of tears, but he blinked them back. A smile started in his heart and ended up tugging at his lips. Because when it came to Elizabeth, he couldn’t do anything but feel the joy of all she’d been to him and the kids. Thank You for her, God. I’m so grateful.
He stood and gathered the strength he’d need to face the day. As he did, he heard the words once more. “Come to me, all you who are weary. . . .” He’d spend the day looking at pictures and calling his kids and reading the Bible, and he’d do it all with Elizabeth’s favorite CD of hymns playing in the background. But before too long, he’d do what he needed to do in order to be fair—both to himself and to Elaine. He’d call her and cancel their plans for tomorrow. Because until the Lord cleared up the questions clouding his heart, he had no right taking things further.
Even with the engagement ring sitting upstairs in the velvet box.
Katy was grateful for the going-away party at the Flanigans’ house because it was a diversion. Rhonda Sanders—her longtime friend and assistant CKT director—was moving to Cleveland to be near Chad Jennings, who had filled in with the production of Godspell when Katy stepped down. The two were full of energy, in love, and excited about the future. They were leaving tomorrow, and Rhonda would live with one of the CKT families near the Ohio theater. The couple would work on two productions and then get married sometime next spring.
Katy pulled a package of frozen hamburger patties from the freezer and watched Rhonda and her fiancé, the way her friend’s eyes sparkled when she looked at Chad and the way he hung on everything she said.
A hint of jealousy colored the moment, and Katy looked away. Rhonda and Chad would have everything Katy and Dayne could never have. Anonymity and privacy and a world where the people who watched would cheer them on, believing in them and supporting them.
Dayne stepped out of the pantry with two enormous bags of hamburger buns. “Where does Jenny want them?” He was halfway to Katy when he must’ve seen something different in her expression. He set the buns on the granite countertop and came to her, gently touching her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
She found a smile and looped her arm around his waist. “Sorry.” She glanced at Rhonda and Chad again. In the living room someone was playing a song from Beauty and the Beast on the piano. By the sound of it, a roomful of kids provided the vocals. She let the noise around her fade. “Just wishing.”
Dayne followed her gaze, and he seemed to understand at almost the same time. “That we could be them . . . ?”
“Not really.” She turned back to Dayne. “For someday.”
A dozen kids ran past, squealing and laughing and chasing a handful of others.
Dayne didn’t seem to notice. He touched Katy’s cheek, and a longing filled his expression. “It’ll come.”
“I know.” Katy nodded, but neither of them seemed very convinced. She set the frozen meat on the counter just as Jenny hurried in from outside.
“The barbecue wouldn’t light. Can you believe it? We must have the world’s biggest grill out there, and with fifty kids waiting for burgers we couldn’t get a flame.” Jenny rushed by Katy and Dayne and washed her hands in the sink. “Jim had to get a match and light it the old-fashioned way.”
Katy rolled up her sleeves and grinned at Dayne. Again she was glad for the chaos of the moment. “Well, if you’ve got a flame, put us to work.”
“Take the tray from the bottom drawer and spread the burgers across it.” Jenny looked slightly frazzled but brimming with joy, the way she always looked at one of her parties. She rattled off directions to Dayne, telling him where the condiments were and how many tomatoes to slice. “Once you’re outside, I’m sure Jim could use your help. He likes a teammate for megameals like this.”
The burgers were perfect that night, and the kids took their full plates and found places at the patio tables. Katy and Dayne sat on the outdoor sofa and watched the scene, how the veteran CKT kids blended with the younger boys and girls.
“Seeing them like this, I can almost picture them the way they are onstage, their costumes and lines. Everything.” Katy set her burger down on her plate and gazed across the pool to the table on the other side where Tim Reed was sitting. He was a freshman in college this year. If the drama program had been able to continue, this would’ve been Tim’s last year. There were other kids too. Bailey and Connor Flanigan, the precious brother and sister who had been family to Katy all the years she lived in their apartment over the garage. The Shaffers and the Picks, the Schneiders and the Larsons.
Katy shifted her attention and spotted Bethany Allen, CKT’s area coordinator. Her life would also change now that CKT had no place to perform.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Dayne balanced his plate on his knees and put his arm around Katy’s shoulders.
“Hmmm.” She leaned against him. A breeze washed over the field behind the Flanigans’ house and whispered through the maple trees that surrounded their property. She liked this, the way being here brought with it a relaxed intimacy, the sort of normal atmosphere she and Dayne never shared outside Bloomington. She smiled at him. “What?”
“How auditions should be taking place in a few weeks. How this’ll be the first time in years that Bloomington won’t have a fall CKT production.”
“That and the kids.” She narrowed her eyes. “CKT’s been so good for them. What’ll they do now? How’ll they stay together?”
There was no answer, and Dayne didn’t try to find one. Instead they both let the conversation stall, their attention on the kids and their laughter.
As they finished eating, a few kids jumped up, and someone turned on the soundtrack from High School Musical. The kids on their feet launched into a replicate version of one of the dance numbers from the hit teenage movie, and the others gathered around, singing every word.
What would give these teenagers an outlet now? They could hardly burst into song at Bloomington High, not without getting strange looks from the other kids. CKT had been a unique environment that allowed kids to sing and dance and feel good about their God-given gifts. A sick feeling tightened Katy’s stomach. In comparison, working on a movie in England felt almost trite.
As darkness fell over the backyard, Jim and Dayne built a fire in the pit, twenty yards back from the pool and patio area. Everyone gathered blankets and folding chairs, and as the circle filled in, someone pulled out a guitar.
After Jenny passed out marshmallows and roasting sticks, she took a seat a little farther from the fire next to Katy. “You leave soon, right?”
“Next Tuesday.” Katy stared at the fire.
Jenny pulled her knees up. “You worried?”
“Of course.” Katy allowed a sad laugh. “For Real and all its slanted views debuts right after Labor Day. With the whole world watching.”
A wisp of smoke curled their direction, and Jenny squinted. “You think it’ll be that bad?”
Katy shook her head. “The previews have given one message loud and clear.” She changed her tone. “‘Will America’s favorite couple survive making a movie together? Look for the answers on For Real.’”
“I saw it.” Jenny frowned. “I was hoping that was just the hype. To get people watching.”
“Yeah, but then they have to keep people watching.” Katy stared through the smoke at the trees near the back of the property. “I don’t know why we ever agreed to it.”
“I do.” Jenny tilted her head, her expression softer than before. “You wanted to give them a window without giving them a door.”
“Well . . . the plan backfired.”
“How’s Dayne feel?” Jenny’s tone was too quiet for anyone else to hear.
“He’s nervous. We get back to LA, then there’s the premiere for our movie, and weeks later we’ll be worlds apart.”
Jenny was silent, maybe letting the reality of Katy’s situation sink in. After a while she drew a slow breath. “Not exactly how you pictured it.”
“No.”
Again Jenny was slow in answering. “But you allowed it.” Her tone wasn’t critical or condemning. “You both did.”
Her insight stayed with Katy long after the party was over, after she’d hugged Rhonda and Chad and promised to pray for them, and after she’d said good-bye to the Flanigans and a couple dozen CKT kids still hanging around.
Someday Page 4