by T L Gray
“He’s the only real father I’ve ever had.” Matt stood, looking restless again. “I don’t understand why all of a sudden I’m struggling again. It’s not supposed to be this way.”
“Why do you say that?”
He turned, confused. “Because I overcame this! I haven’t had nightmares in years, Grace. Years. Now they’re every night. How is that possible when I’m still following Christ and serving Him? I’m supposed to be free.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s us. Maybe this is God’s way of telling me that I need to stay away from you.”
Suddenly I was standing, too, ready to fight if I had to. “I don’t believe that, and neither do you or you wouldn’t be here. Matt, I truly believe that Christ overcame your past, and when He did, you were given a new and glorious life. But for some reason, He wants you to let Him overcome this again. Faith is a journey.”
He sighed and clasped his hands behind his head. “I feel like a failure.”
I saw the defeat in his face and understood. I felt the same way when Stewart and I broke up. That I had somehow failed God and myself. That all my convictions and choices had been for nothing. It was the worst time of my life.
Stepping near him, but giving him the space he seemed to need, I repeated the words my father told me when I lay on my bed, brokenhearted: “It’s when we’re weak that Christ is strong. Our failures are our eventual triumphs when we step back and let Him take control.”
Matt let out a surprised laugh and gently placed his hands on my face. “How did I ever find you?”
Smiling back with a gleam in my eye, I gripped his shirt. “You didn’t. I found you, if you recall.”
“Then I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
My pulse hammered everywhere at once. The way he looked at me, just that one long, lingering stare, had my body yearning. Capturing me in a mind-blowing, emotional, and completely vulnerable kiss, he destroyed all that was left of my defenses. The openness we shared translated into a closeness that had me near tears, and I wanted more. Wanted to experience every part of him.
As if Matt could sense the danger of being alone with me after having such an emotional night, he pulled back, looking physically tormented in doing so. “I have to go,” he rasped, his forehead still on mine.
I let him leave, not trusting my own desire. He kissed me once more before I shut the door behind him. I put my forehead to the smooth wood, thinking how profound my father’s words had been in my life. The path was rocky getting here, but in the end I’d found more. So much more.
Chapter 27
* * *
MATT
Grace’s words haunted me all the way home. “Our failures are our eventual triumphs.” Maybe it was time to talk with Bruce again about the nightmares, figure out how to move past them. One certainty existed: Grace was my future. She deserved a man who could love her in a healthy way. A man who would be able to lie next to her one day without fear of lashing out in his sleep.
I texted Bruce before going to bed, being sure to set my alarm. The memory of Maggie had shaken me up, and I didn’t think I could stand seeing my mother die again in my mind tonight. Why couldn’t I dream about the good stuff? Why was I always haunted by the one day I would do anything to change?
Sighing, I closed my eyes, and tried to get at least a few hours of sleep.
The alarm chirped for the third time and I slowly rolled over, slamming the snooze button. My body did not want to move and my eyes were certainly unhappy about the light pouring through my bedroom window. Between my restlessness and the two-hour wake-up calls, I wasn’t sure if I got even three hours of sleep. Groggy, cranky, and in desperate need of coffee, I knew my body and mind couldn’t sustain this routine much longer. I could already tell the difference in my workouts, from having less and less strength when lifting weights.
Glancing quickly at my phone, I read the text from Bruce. He could meet in an hour. Fighting through exhaustion and irritation, I readied for the day and drove to the office, carefully preparing myself for the conversation I’d been avoiding for months.
Bruce looked as worn out, with dark circles under his eyes, as I was when I strolled into his office. “Rough night?” I asked as he looked up.
“You could say that.”
He didn’t offer more, but handed me a cup of coffee as he sat down across from me. Warmth spread through my body as I sipped, easing some of the tension. Toasting him with my cup, I smiled. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“How was the banquet?”
“Pretentious and stuffy, but totally worth my overpriced tux to see Grace in her dress.” I smirked as Bruce laughed. “Carter Fields wasn’t so bad, either.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t rub it in. So what’s with the early-morning wake-up call?”
I picked up the journal I had set on the floor. “I’m ready to talk about these,” I said, handing off the journal to Bruce’s waiting hands.
He sat back and slowly read through my handwritten notes, nodding periodically. I waited patiently, knowing Bruce never rushed through research. After several minutes, he closed the book and crossed his massive arms.
“Matt, what do you remember about that night?”
We’d talked about my mother’s death before, but it had been a while. “I’d been out with some buddies, watching a game at Shakey’s Sports Pub. I drank, but planned to keep it only to two beers since I was driving. I didn’t stick to that plan, but I still don’t remember overdoing it. This is where my memory gets foggy. I remember driving home, but that’s it until the next morning. My only guess is I was way drunker than I suspected. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt anyone that night.”
“And the next morning?”
“I woke up completely undressed, which didn’t surprise me at the time, but I couldn’t find where I put my clothes, and I had a massive headache. That’s when I heard the message. I didn’t have a cell phone. If only they’d let me get a stupid cell phone!” I stopped for a moment to keep from getting too worked up and continued with the story, the familiar shame gnawing at my insides. “I stumbled to the kitchen to get some aspirin when I saw the light flashing on my answering machine. Mom’s voice was panicked. She sounded terrified and begged me to come get her. I threw on some clothes and went straight over, but it was too late. The apartment was already roped off as a crime scene, and my mom was dead.”
Bruce nodded and then seemed to be concentrating on a conversation going on in his head. I hated when he did that.
“So, Doc, what’s the diagnosis? How do I make them stop so I can get on with my life?”
He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure you need them to stop.” He smiled, offering me no further information. “Matt, I have a theory, but I need more evidence before I’m sure.”
“Well, please tell me what it is because setting my alarm in two-hour intervals is getting old. I just want all this to go away.”
“You’ve been waking up every two hours? No wonder you’ve been such a pain in the butt these last few weeks.” Bruce’s candor made me smile despite my irritation. “Tonight, no alarm at all. Wear yourself out, get nice and comfortable, and then let yourself fall into a deep sleep.”
Irritation soon turned to panic. “You have no idea what you’re asking me to do,” I whispered. To intentionally live through that nightmare seemed like a brutal experiment, especially when it was just to test his “theory.”
Bruce’s large hand was suddenly on my shoulder, reassuring me with a squeeze. “You can do this, Matt. You’re strong enough, and you have a whole new motivation to get healed again.”
I knew he was referring to Grace, and I simply nodded, trying to accept his solution to the problem. As if he sensed my need to change the subject, Bruce sat back. “How’s Marcus doing?”
Feeling steady once again, I relaxed. I definitely preferred talking about someone else’s problems. “I think someone is hurting him. He’s making excuses and favoring his right side. Grace hugged him last night and he a
lmost cried out in pain.”
Bruce’s jaw stiffened. He was a fairly calm guy, considering his background, but when it came to kids, Bruce would fire off like a rocket. More than once I’ve had to cancel appointments because he needed to pull himself together after counseling abused children.
“You think it’s at home?”
I shook my head, still thoughtful. “Nope. He lives with his aunt, and the way he talks about her, I just know it can’t be her. He’s intensely protective of her. She rescued him from foster care and her love is the only sure thing he’s got. I considered maybe she has a boyfriend or something, but he never hesitates when I drop him off at his house, just bounces right in.”
“When he’s not at the center, where does he go?”
I smiled because I’d asked myself that same question. Maybe I was picking up more from Bruce than I realized. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. I saw him outside the center the other day talking to someone, but I couldn’t see whom. Everything in Marcus’s posture told me the conversation was hostile, but when I tried to get him to tell me who it was, he completely shut down. It took a week before he started speaking to me again. My normal tactics don’t work with this kid, so I’m trying to be careful and not corner him.”
“That’s smart, but don’t wait too long, Matt. These things tend to escalate. If your instinct says push, then push. Okay?”
I nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility on my shoulders. Grace certainly would rather I push, use the system even, but I wasn’t ready for that extreme yet.
The door buzzed, letting us know Bruce’s eight o’clock had arrived. He jumped up and peeked out the door to say he’d be right out. I stood to leave, but he stopped me and rested that fatherly hand on my shoulder again.
“Let me pray for you?” It was a question that I knew demanded vulnerability. Despite my panic, I nodded, knowing I trusted him more than any person on this earth.
“Dear Lord, Your ways are not our ways, and our wisdom is foolishness to You. Lord, please lead us down Your path. Your Word promises peace and comfort. Grant that to Matt today. Give him the answers he seeks, and the humility he needs to let go. You are the Father neither of us ever got to have on this earth, but Your love meets all our needs. Thank You, Lord, for Your faithfulness and Your promise to never leave us or forsake us. We anxiously await Your provision in Matt’s life and in Marcus’s. In Your precious name, amen.”
Tears stung at my eyes, tears I had refused to shed for so long. But somehow in that office, with Bruce’s hand on my shoulder, I felt broken. Broken from my lack of trust and faith, broken over my inability to love without restraint, and broken that instead of going to the Father for help, I shut Him out in anger because I was hurting.
Giving me a second to pull myself together, Bruce left me alone in his office and made small talk with his next patient in the reception area. I said my own silent prayer, the first in a while that didn’t come with bitterness. I prayed for strength. I knew in my heart that tonight would change everything.
Chapter 28
* * *
GRACE
I woke up thinking of Matt, missing him, even though he’d left only hours earlier. He was consuming more and more of my thoughts every day. Not a bad thing necessarily, but certainly distracting.
Reaching over to grab my morning devotional, I read the wisdom of others and said a prayer to start my day. My prayers for the kids at the center were the norm for me, but today felt more urgent in light of yesterday. I prayed for Marcus, for him to open up and trust Matt. I prayed for Matt himself—that today would bring some level of healing instead of more fear that we were getting too close. As I prayed, the heaviness of both situations lightened a little, but I still felt burdened.
Glancing toward heaven, I shook my head. “Okay, I know I’m supposed let go and let You, and all that stuff, but I’m having a really hard time doing it.” I waited, as if I would hear an audible answer, and then chuckled. I knew the answer already. The Bible clearly says that we are not to worry about tomorrow and we are to cast all our anxieties on Him. But, man, if that wasn’t hard!
Letting myself accept that I was a work in progress, I slipped into the shower and finished my morning routine. When I first started at the center, I hated the 6:00 a.m. wake-up, but now I found I enjoyed the early mornings. I loved the two hours of quiet at the center before it became swarmed with eager children. I loved that each day felt hopeful and fresh, and that I wondered whom God would put in my path to influence.
Still smiling as I reached the front doors of Hartsford, I eagerly unlocked the building and let myself in. I was the first to arrive, a usual occurrence, although Darius had been arriving earlier since Sam’s visit. Thoughts of Sam made me scowl. I wanted the final numbers from the banquet, wanted to start to see my visions and plans for this place begin.
So lost in thought as I stepped into my office, I didn’t notice the mess until glass crunched underneath my foot. Startled, I flipped on the light and took in the scene. Three high windows had been completely smashed by bricks that had landed in various places throughout my office. A message was scrawled on each brick: Go Home. Death. Fear Us.
If there hadn’t been thick steel bars, which remained steadfast, protecting the shattered windows, I would have immediately questioned my safety. Someone was trying to scare me, bully me even.
The front doors slammed shut and footsteps echoed across the gym floor. I met Darius in the center of it, holding the three offensive bricks in my hands.
“Someone doesn’t like the new rules,” I said, handing off the Fear Us brick.
Darius’s dark eyes went hard as he took each of the bricks from my hands, examining the painted words. “Where did you find these?”
“In my office, along with a million pieces of shattered glass. You may want to check yours, too.”
Sure enough, each of the offices had their windows smashed by bricks with messages demanding that we back down. We headed to my office, since it had the most damage, and started tossing the larger shards of glass into a big plastic container.
Darius shook his head. “That’s it. Sam’s going to shut us down.”
The crash of glass being tossed into the container almost wiped out his words. I touched his arm to reassure him. “No, he’s not. This just comes with the neighborhood.”
Darius stood, turning his back to me. “You don’t get it, Grace. Nothing’s the same as it used to be. After the last incident, Sam made it clear that if he felt you were in any danger whatsoever, he was closing us down. It’s a miracle we made it past the first of the year as it is.”
Shock and frustration coursed through me as I stood. “Darius, what are you talking about?”
He turned, his eyes ablaze with exasperation. “Why do you think Liz left? Sam told her she had to have the center self-sustaining in three years. It’s been five, and Liz wasn’t able to get us any outside support. Sure, everyone supported us verbally, but no one would commit funds. Not until you came. Sam told us that you were our last hope, that if you could get us funding, then he’d let us stay open. No one believed you could do it.”
“Then what’s the problem? We did do it.”
He ran both hands down his face, stretching the skin. “Yes, we did, but at what cost? Sam pulled me aside last week and told me that your safety was not worth the risk, funds or no funds. He was furious I let things get out of control like they did. He said that if he had any idea the neighborhood had gotten so bad, he never would have let you come here. As soon as he hears of this, he’s going to take you away. And when he does, those businesses will never keep their commitments.”
I felt the sting of betrayal. Despite all his talk about me growing and blossoming, Sam was still sheltering me.
“Then we won’t tell him.” My words surprised even me.
Darius cocked his head. “Grace, deceit is not exactly your forte.”
“I’m not going to lie to him. I’m just not going to o
ffer information that he doesn’t need.”
Darius let out a snort. “Sounds like the same thing to me. But okay, I’ll play along—only because my heart would break if we walked away from these kids. But this has to stay between you and me.”
I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was referring to Matt. I understood. Matt was almost as bad as Sam when it came to my safety. But somehow I didn’t feel the same contempt for it. Matt’s concern came from an honest place. He wanted to shield me from the horrors he’d experienced as a child. Sam’s came from a lack of faith in me. And it hurt more than I cared to admit.
Darius collected all the bricks and threw them into the back of his car. Our goal was to make it look like a random act, not a targeted threat. The plan seemed to work, as neither Jeff nor Steven questioned us, just pitched in to help clean up the glass. By three o’clock all the windows had been replaced by Glass Solutions, their quick response a favor to Jeff, who knew the owner.
When Matt strolled in two hours later, I’d almost convinced myself that the incident never happened. Marcus had a ball in his hand before I could even say hello, and although Matt seemed distant and lost in thought, he played with Marcus for over an hour.
I watched them both from the bleachers, noticing Marcus hit half the shots he usually did because he couldn’t push off with his right arm very well. Matt noticed, too, but still managed to stay nonchalant. I didn’t know how. I wanted to shake Marcus, insist he let us help him.
I thought of the bricks that demanded retreat. No way. God put me at Hartsford to make a difference, one that exceeded whether the center was in the red or black financially. Helping these kids was my mission, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
Lost in my newfound conviction, I didn’t even hear Matt approach. “Hey, you look ready to kill someone. Everything okay?” He lightly grazed my hair, slipping the strands through his gentle fingers.