“Because…I can’t be who you want me to be. And…you can’t either."
Sam stood to pace the floor, formulating the right response. She was it. He didn’t want anyone else—or for her to be anything else. Other than happy. How could he make her see this?
“I didn’t even know your dad was alive or in the picture, until today. Much less that you have a past with him which clearly needs resolving.” Merry stood, arms wrapped around her middle, and Sam ceased his pacing to stand in front of her.
“He’s not. We’re…I’m fine.” But I won’t be without a second chance with you.
The saddest smile lifted the corners of Merry’s mouth. “That’s the thing—none of that matters to me. I can take it. But it’s—”
Daring to reach out, Sam curled his fingers around Merry’s shoulders. “Ever since I met you, I wanted to know everything about you. There aren’t good enough words for it. But you are an amazing person, Merry Grace. And I’m not giving up on you that easy. Whatever your past, whoever hurt your heart so bad—I just need you to know I’m in. I’m all in. For you. If I could just make you smile, and laugh, every day…” She shut her eyes and teardrops seeped through her long lashes and Sam tugged her closer. She fit. In every way that counted.
“That would make me happy. We can figure it all out. If you let me in.”
She lifted her head, and with it came a shoot of hope. Until she opened her mouth. “You can’t fix me, Sam. I will always have my issues. And…I don’t need someone to fix me. Just be there. Through the good, the bad and the ugly. And what about you?” Merry traced cool fingers over his jawline, sending shivers down his spine as he stared down into her eyes. Eyes that pulled farther and farther away with her every word.
“You need to stop thinking you can fix everything and everyone. That’s such a heavy burden. I think it’s one that you didn’t mean to keep me out—but it has.”
Mom had said the same thing. It had been her last Christmas before the cancer had finally done its job and whisked the life right out of her two short weeks after a new year dawned. He’d brought her daisies and a dozen pamphlets on new treatment options that he had researched. Mom had laughed—laughed!—at him, and said almost the same words Merry had just uttered. And he’d gotten so frustrated he’d wept like a child after he left her.
Because that was when he knew he was going to have to let her go.
The memory faded, but not the pain. He bent his head and met Merry’s forehead with his own, and drank in her nearness. “I see you, though, Merry. I do. And I…I love what I see. Even those scars that have your guard up. I don’t blame you one bit for them, either. But it’s…the way you talk with your hands and your gift with words. How fiercely you care. You practically skated across a parking lot trying to find me at church once. Remember?”
Merry laugh-sobbed, and a new wound was sliced open in his heart. He could feel her uncurl one finger at a time from around his hands that had at some point slipped down to grasp hers. Another perfect fit.
“I remember. But…we wouldn’t be good for each other. Not like this. Not with my issues that so clearly need to be fixed. But not by you,” she rushed to add. “By…me, maybe? I don’t know. And you have a lot to make peace with and heal from, too. Before you can let someone fully into your incredible heart.”
The automatic doors yards away slid open, a swirl of white chased in a new father, and a car horn honked outside. Merry squeezed his hands once before walking away. Carrying a large shard of his heart.
He is who He says He is. Those seven words clanged off the hollow shadows of his soul. Still, after all this time, Mom’s words, taken from the Bible itself, settled true and right. They didn’t take away the pain—but they took him out of the hospital, to his car, and back home. Where he dug around and eventually found his box labeled simply, "Mom."
Despite the wee hours of the morning, Sam sat on his old creaky couch and dared to crack open a far more worn copy of God’s word than his. He needed to try and find some answers.
Because, much as it hurt—Merry had been right. The desire to fix, mend and heal what was broken had been a constant, driving force in his life. Maybe because he’d failed to do so with Mom. And then with Dad when he’d been grieving—when they’d both been grieving—after her death.
Except for this time, it was different.
This time, it had driven away someone who had turned his life upside down in the best way possible. Ever since that November night where he met that perplexing redhead running late, only to re-meet her behind a box of lights and tinsel at church hours later.
Nothing is impossible with God.
Christmas was a time for miracles, as Mom had always said. Except she didn’t know how often he had beaten God’s ear for a miracle to heal her. Especially that last holiday season when there’d been a short remission. That had been a Christmas time eight years earlier. He needed to focus on now.
Dad was in his life again. The hurts and wounds of all they had taken out on each other prior to and especially after Mom died still needed healing. Something Sam hadn’t thought possible—or necessary. He thought he’d made his peace with it, up until today.
There was one small miracle. Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, stubble scratching at his fingertips. He didn't have to do a single thing to get Dad back. And yet here their relationship was being mended.
Serendipity?
Sam shook his head as he stood up from the couch, Mom’s Bible falling off his lap. Scooping it up, he squinted at the tiny font. Two lines in Proverbs chapter three were highlighted in blue:
Trust in the Lord and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, for He shall make your paths straight.
This wasn’t serendipity. This was grace. And a swift, kick-in-the-pants conviction. Sam gripped the Bible tight with both hands. And he could almost smell the rose perfume Mom always wore.
He’d been trying to straighten his own paths—and others—for too long.
Merry was right. Lord. Show me what to do. He already missed her, knowing that starting over wasn’t an option. But they both needed time. How much time?
For such a time as this. Sam set the Word down on his coffee table and pressed fists to his aching eyes. Maybe he only got this short time with Merry to show him the weight he hadn’t known was there until he felt the freedom.
The freedom, the pain and grace in letting go, and just letting God. Sam dropped to his knees beside the couch and unclenched his fists. “Your will be done. But, please, God—heal her heart.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Almost ready to go, Gram?” Merry set her balled up napkin on her dinner plate and reached around her grandmother’s petite shoulders to help her into her coat. The Red Oak Café was beginning to get crowded, and Gram was antsy to get to church early to get good seats for the show. But Merry wished they had spent longer in the Cathedral of Learning’s ancestry rooms if only to miss the play. But Gram would be disappointed, and Merry couldn’t bring herself to do such a thing. She should be happy to go. Except it wasn’t a very large church, and Sam would more than likely be there.
And she didn’t begin to know how to cope with that.
Once safe inside her car joining the throngs of people leaving Oakland that Friday evening, Merry kept Gram talking. Anything to distract her from someone she both missed and didn’t want to see. Gram was no fool, but she happily shared all the old stories. Where she’d grown up in Hazelwood, a neighborhood that was no more—replaced by the parkway on the hillside just behind them now as they sat on the Hot Metal Bridge. Gram’s stories turned to those of the food variety when Merry turned onto Becks Run and her mouth began watering. Just a few more days until the nut rolls, bobalki, apricot cookies and so much more would cover her parents dining room table. A close second to being all together to celebrate Jesus’ birth was the food. “Has Mum made orange cookies yet?” They were her favorite—and she could definitely indulge in some after t
he play. She would probably need something to chase away the ache that was only growing in her heart as they neared the South Hills.
Gram nodded her gray permed head. “I think so. She had a tin set aside just for you last I was over there.”
Excellent. She’d pop by there after the play and after she took Gram to the nursing home. “Are you warm enough?” Merry turned on her headlights as blue dusk wove its magic over the hills and through the valleys, streetlights illuminating the way. It may not yet be six o’clock in the evening—but winter had its beauty, too. Even in pockets of rush-hour traffic.
“I’m fine, dear. But how are you?” The last two weeks, at least one person in her family had asked her that daily. And she still didn’t quite know how to answer. After they got home from the hospital the night, or rather morning of her birthday, she’d been wide-awake in her childhood room, telling Mum all that had transpired. All the way back to that pre-Thanksgiving snow day when she’d first met Sam.
“Mum filled you in, right?” Merry couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud. Nat King Cole crooned tenderly from her radio as Gram burrowed deeper into her coat.
“She did. About everything. You know, that was a very brave thing you did, honey.”
Merry scoffed, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel waiting to pull onto Route 19. Brave? Her dear grandmother must be mixing up words again. “You sure you don’t mean something else, Gramma?”
The radio turned off, and Merry slid her gaze over to Gram sitting with nothing less than perfect posture all bundled up in her red wool coat and white pillbox hat. Ever the lady. She fingered the pearls peaking out from beneath her wide coat collar, thoughtful.
“You opened your heart to hope, Meredith Grace. And that is no small thing.”
Hot tears sought to spill from her eyes, but Merry blinked hard and kept her focus on the road. “But I should’ve known it only would lead to…to more disappointment.” Except this time it’d been different. From the beginning. Sam had asked if they could start over—he cared about her so much the memory of his words, and his touch, still kept her up late at night. Except she had said no. But if she could go back to that snow squalling night—she wouldn’t change her decision. Which was perhaps the most perplexing part of this whole mess.
“Another brave thing you did was let him go, Merry.”
She held back a derisive snort. Sometimes she thought that’d been utterly stupid self-preservation. Except it ran deeper than that. She couldn’t expect him, or any guy for that matter, to be a white knight and carry her off into the sunset with a whole, healed heart. It had just taken the best guy she had ever met to make her realize that that was why she’d been let down so much.
“Oh, but you do wear your heart on your sweet face, honey-girl. You opened your heart. And yes, got your hopes up high. You’ve always held such high ideals, ever since you were little.” Gram pulled out a tube of lipstick and swiped its coral, peach-scented stain across her lips. “There is only one person who will never let you down, you know.”
Merry flicked on her turn signal and merged into the center lane behind an all-too familiar red truck. “More than one—my family. Present company included.” She knew that now. And that surety had comforted her through two weeks worth of lonely nights at her apartment where she wrapped presents, kept on top of her work—and read a chapter of her novel every night. For the first time in five years.
“Not entirely.” Gram wagged her finger as they pulled into the parking lot. “You know very well none of us are perfect, Merry. And we all have let you down in some small way or another over the years.”
Merry wanted to deny it, but thinking back, with hindsight being 20/20—Gram was right. Her family was wonderful on so many levels, but they’d had their issues, too. She swallowed hard, staring down the front entrance of church from their parking spot. Agreeing to help in her small way with the play had partially gotten her into this whole mess. She spotted Kara and Jackson treading carefully over to the sidewalk, baby carrier in hand, and Gram’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“I see my new favorite grandbaby.” And with that, Merry forced herself to hustle, shut off her car and get Gram safely inside the church.
Even if her heart wanted to run full speed in the opposite direction.
***
Good grief, but she was getting more emotional as she got older. Merry pressed her fingertips to her eyelids as a happy ending unfolded on the church stage. She had edited the entire play, for Pete’s sake—and here she was crying over its timeless message of compassion and forgiveness. An embroidered hanky was pressed into her hand from dear Gram, and Merry dabbed her nose. She must look like Rudolph the reindeer by now. At least the lights were low as the cast took their bows. The pastor’d speak here in a moment if tradition held true. Just enough time to regain her composure before she’d book it out of there, pick up her orange cookies, and go home.
The intro to O Holy Night began issuing out of the baby grand piano, and Merry’s heart swelled with what once had been her favorite Christmas song. And to make the night even sweeter, it was Ricky putting his long fingers to good use.
“A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” The lyrics reverberated deep down, and stole her breath. Those thrills of hope. She’d had them with Sam. Consistently. But what was it that Gram had said?
There was only one person who’d never let her down.
One person who had come to earth two thousand years ago the same way Will had entered their world two weeks earlier. One person who had brought about a new covenant—and was going to be bringing around a new earth eventually, too. Merry twirled the handkerchief of Gram’s through her fingers, hanging onto every word their pastor spoke, even though she’d heard it a hundred times.
“Our great high priest whose name is Love, came down to our fallen earth as a helpless baby. Exactly like the new little ones I see in the crowd tonight. We’re fond of saying He came to seek and save the lost. But that doesn’t end when we accept Him into our hearts. He continually pursues us, His love is just that immense, and matchless. And this is our hope that we have as an anchor in this crazy world, steadfast and secure. Bow your heads and pray with me.”
Clenching her fingers in her lap, Merry glanced around the church lit white-gold with candlelight and fringed with dark green pine boughs. Heads lowered one by one, but one stayed upright. She should bow her head. Shut her eyes. But there sat Sam. With that matchless, kind smile. That smile she’d wanted to see for the rest of her life lifted his laugh-lined mouth. And with it, a measure of peace turned the bittersweet ache inside out.
She had done the right thing in letting him go.
Sam turned away, bowing his head, and she was glad. She hadn’t the strength to do it first. Bending forward at her waist, Merry pressed her clasped hands to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. Lord…I need You. She had opened her heart to one of the best, and even though it wasn’t meant to be—the last four weeks had been the most wonderful and perhaps truly God-ordained. She knew that without a doubt.
I have you, daughter. I am who I say I am. The room was cozy warm, but Merry shivered when those words breathed across her soul and began to seep into the aching cracks. This was where healing began. Even though the pain of longing took her breath away—she was ready to keep her heart soft, and open, to the greatest Love of all.
Because only He could heal her heart.
Chapter Sixteen
Walking alongside one of Pittsburgh’s three rivers made a guy remember how very small he was. Sam stopped jogging and bent in half, trying to catch his breath. He needed this night of solitude, in a city teeming with parties ready to ring in the new year and say goodbye to the old. White and gold shimmered through the current as each river went along its way, and he tried to summon up more gratitude for the beauty he was standing beside.
But all that came to mind in his pause from jogging, was Merry’s s
weet face. Groaning, Sam lowered himself to the frosty sidewalk and raked a hand over his face. He wasn’t fooling anyone. Not himself, much less God. He knew where Merry was. Smack in the middle of her amazingly loud and lovable family. Probably claiming her rights as the oldest sibling to hold Kara’s baby. Probably laughing until she cried, happy and healing. Just as he’d prayed for.
At least that was one thing he didn’t have to wonder about.
That night before Christmas Eve at the church play had been when he’d last seen her. So serene in the midst of her family. And he knew that was when he had to let her go once and for all. God was working something in her—in both of them. And he was done trying to take over the job. Still, he had to fight every day not to call her. Just to see how she was doing. But it wasn’t the right time. So instead, he’d made an early New Years resolution to be more open with both his Heavenly Father—and earthly father. And he was learning that both of them could take his hard questions, old anger and regrets and resentment. And were endlessly patient when he wrestled with missing Merry.
A young couple strolled by him, utterly engrossed in each other to such an extent that they only narrowly avoided stepping on him, and Sam took that as his cue to walk back to his car to meet his dad for a late dinner. Taking the short steps up from the river walk to where the Point Park Fountain lay dormant for the winter, Sam paused to gaze up at the towering tree entirely made up of brilliant strands of red, gold, and green lights.
“Wow. I would not want to untangle those.” That voice…so soft he’d hardly heard it. Gentle footfalls moved farther away from him, and Sam tried to see through the night glittering with silver and gold from the city lights.
Could it be…
“Merry?”
***
Spinning around on her kitten heels, Merry pressed her lips together, trying to tamp down the butterflies that sought to send her flying into Sam’s arms as he strode towards her. Oh, she'd missed him. He was really here. Tucking her hair behind her ears as the wind kicked up a dance over the river, Merry swallowed and managed to squeak out, “Hi, Sam.”
Wrapped in Red: A Three Rivers Romance Novella Page 9