On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20)

by Lisa Heaton

  While awake, her mind was constantly filled with memories of the Christmas before, that moment especially when she knew for certain she would lose him. When she asked if he had any intention of changing his mind, his reply, “No, Chelsea, I don’t,” nearly destroyed her. He whispered it softly, regretfully, but resolutely. Just a few moments prior to his admission, as they sat outside snuggling together, she was certain she heard from God, certain she could believe for forever. So even after he spoke such words, she was able to hold on to some tiny shred of hope, but as the months wore on and another Christmas came, she had to suspect she’d been wrong all along.

  The evening of Thanksgiving, once everyone was gone, she sat beside the fire and tried to pray. It was as if her heart were too withered and despairing to even ask for what she hoped for. In that moment, her greatest fear was that she would never see John again, never feel his embrace or hear him say her name. For whatever reason, the thought occurred to her that she would see him again in heaven, and for a moment, that thought was a reassuring one. But in the moments after, she realized that maybe that was what God meant all along when He whispered that she could believe for forever. They would be together forever, just not likely on earth. From that moment on, she felt lost. There was no hope remaining, nothing left to hold onto. It was then she began to sleep constantly and pray desperately.

  Her prayers remained constant for John, that he might know the Lord and for his safety. But the prayers she prayed for her own life shifted. She began to pray to let go. Often she pled that she might somehow stop loving him. Sometimes she even questioned God’s plan altogether. Why would He allow her to finally love again and then take John away? Why was she so stupid that she hit “Send” that day? How had she missed God’s voice in so significant a matter? That was what fed the deepest of her depression, missing God. If she missed Him then, had she ever really heard Him at all? Was she more in the habit of doing what she wanted, convincing herself that it was God? If so, that was likely the reason she felt the approval of God in pressing “Send” to begin with. She sensed it was His provision, when maybe all along it was her way of trying to take care of herself and finances, a way of refusing to go home when all along she knew she should. Was it possible that this love and loss were her punishment for missing God? Never would she have believed that of Him prior to such a hopeless season.

  Relentless pounding on the door forced Chelsea out of bed. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was just after eight in the evening, but already she’d been in bed since dark, alone with her thoughts. She switched on the porch light and found Tuck and Lucy standing there in the cold, excitedly holding a shabby little Christmas tree. Opening the door, she asked, “What are you two doing?”

  Already Tuck regretted coming. He could see she was not so happy to see them, a look that had become quite common over the past weeks. It was Christmas Eve and Lucy had hardly eaten dinner that night. She’d been so upset about Chelsea that she had withdrawn into herself. It was unlike her. When Tuck took her aside and finally urged her to open up, she said she was sad because Chelsea was all alone and had no tree. He tried to convince her that Chelsea would go to her parents’ for Christmas Day and didn’t need a tree, but still Lucy remained sullen. Finally, she began to cry. That was so totally out of character for her that Tuck went for her coat, assuring her they would go find Chelsea a tree. Alone out in the woods with a flashlight and a chainsaw, Lucy picked out a Charlie Brown Christmas tree for her best friend Chelsea. And there they stood, waiting on the front porch with Chelsea greeting them in her pajamas.

  “I brought you a tree.” Slipping in through the crack in the door, Lucy circled her arms around Chelsea’s waist and buried her face in her stomach. “I’m so sorry you’re sad for Christmas. I’m sad too, and I thought if I could hug you we both might feel better.”

  Hugging Lucy tightly, Chelsea began to cry. Kneeling down before her, she said, “Lucy, you are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  Lucy touched Chelsea’s face, and with one finger, followed the trail of a tear. “I’m sorry your old man friend never came.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Watching the exchange between his daughter and Chelsea, Tuck was struck by a truth that had been glaring at him all along. Chelsea would never be his again. She loved John in a way she could never feel for him, never. No matter how long he waited, what they once had was gone. In all the time he’d been secretly plotting his strategy to win her back, he missed how truly heartbroken she was. But Lucy saw it. There was a friendship between them that transcended ages. Just as much as Lucy needed a friend in her life, Chelsea did too. He’d certainly not been that friend to her.

  Bringing the tree into Chelsea’s living room, Tuck offered, “I’m sorry. I know it’s late, but Lucy insisted.”

  Chelsea and Lucy had followed him in and were still holding hands. Sitting on the sofa with Lucy, Chelsea said, “Thanks for listening to her.”

  While Tuck sat the tree into the stand, Lucy showed Chelsea the box of ornaments she had brought for her tree. Most were ones she’d made for her dad over the years, so Chelsea promised to return them right after Christmas. Then they began a scavenger hunt for other things to hang on the tree. From the kitchen they brought silver spoons and forks. Tying ribbon around the handles, they then allowed them to dangle from the branches. Lucy took colored index cards and drew pictures on them and tucked them into the needles. As they found other various shiny objects, they each placed them on the tree. Before long, it was full enough to be what Lucy declared an official Christmas tree.

  It was getting late and Tuck insisted he get Lucy home to bed. After they were gone, Chelsea went upstairs to get her pillow and blanket, along with a photo of John. Taking them back downstairs, she put the photo on a tree branch and then curled up on the sofa to sleep for the night. How could she not go to sleep looking at her beautiful tree? Just before drifting off, Chelsea admitted to herself and to God; she had only one option, to let John go. It was time.

  A few days after Christmas break, when Lucy started back to school, Tuck dropped her off and went immediately to Chelsea’s. When he got there, she was in the kitchen cooking breakfast and invited him to join her. It reminded him of when he visited her in L.A. They shared a closeness that can only come from years of history and good memories, yet there was an expanse between them that would likely never be overcome. She busied herself, seeming more like her old self and less like Blue Christmas Chelsea. That was what he and Lucy called her for the past few weeks. Surprised by her change in mood, he asked, “So, what has you in such a good mood?”

  Dropping a blob of jelly onto her toast, she admitted, “I don’t know that I’m in a good mood, just a better mood.”

  “It’s about time. You had us a little worried.”

  “I had me a little worried too. But I’ll be okay.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Since Christmas Eve, he couldn’t get the image of her with Lucy out of his mind. They were so sweet together, and he had to imagine there would never be another Christmas Eve that he didn’t think of them and their tender moment there by the door. “Lucy sure loves you.”

  “And I love her.” Resting the knife on her plate, she admitted, “Tuck, if we’ve ever done one thing right in our lives, it was deciding that you should do whatever it took to keep her.”

  Tears sprang to his eyes. Looking away, he admitted, “I know that. I’m just so sorry I lost you in the process.”

  “You didn’t lose me. I’m still here. It just looks different now.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Even though her mood seemed brighter, upon closer inspection, he noticed that her eyes held the same sadness as Blue Christmas Chelsea’s. “Won’t you at least tell me what’s going on? How did things take such a sudden turn?” He suspected that maybe she heard from the old guy during the holidays, or that maybe she’d tried to call and he never called her back.

  “Have you ever been so certain of something that you would nearly stak
e your life on it, or at least all your hopes, but then that moment comes and you realize you were wrong all along?”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” If anyone did, he did. After Lindsey left, it was his only hope to have Chelsea back. How could he not relate? As for that moment arriving when you realized you were wrong, he’d experienced it so recently that it was still fresh and raw. All hopes for having Chelsea love him were gone. She was experiencing the same feeling and he could only ache even more inside knowing the pain she was enduring. He’d take it from her if he could.

  “And just so you know, I’m sorry I haven’t been as good of a friend to you as Lucy. I could’ve learned from her.”

  “What do you mean? You’re a great friend. Not many people would get out on Christmas Eve just to bring a tree.”

  “No. What I mean is that I missed it this whole time, how much you still love the old guy. I’m sorry you’re hurting so much because of him.”

  “It’s not exactly because of him, more like I finally get it that he’ll never be mine. Honestly, I really did believe he would come for me.” Chelsea looked away, tears filling her eyes. “I was stupid.”

  As much as he wanted to reach for her, he didn’t. The sight of her big brown eyes filled with tears brought tears to his own. When she looked back at him, he assured her, “You are anything but stupid.”

  Two days later, Tuck was standing in the lobby of the Keller Industries building. One of the security guys was making a call, kind of giving him a look like he was certain he didn’t belong. He didn’t. While he waited, he was still mulling over what he might say. In order to get out of town without Lucy knowing where he was going, which would have meant Chelsea knowing, he had to flat out lie to her. Ever since then he’d felt sick about it. As much as he tried to recall, he had never lied to his daughter. Sure, he’d joked around about things, but never lied in such a way as he did when he said he was going to an auction for farm equipment. He would have to confess to Lucy when he returned home. If not, he’d never get out from under the weight of his deception.

  Since buckling in on the plane, he’d tried to decide what to say to John. In all the months Chelsea had been home, Tuck’s greatest hope was that he would never show up, so to think he was flying out to ask John to come seemed ridiculous. But since looking into Chelsea’s eyes that morning over breakfast, he knew she deserved to be with the man she loved. As convinced as she was that John loved her in return, Tuck had to at least give it a try, to find out if he loved her or if maybe he’d really been using her all along. Once he met the guy, he’d know.

  When Irene walked into his office and closed the door, John looked up. By the look on her face, he could see it was important. “What?”

  “There’s someone downstairs to see you. He says he’s a friend of Chelsea’s.”

  John’s heart sank. All he could think was that something bad had happened to her and someone was coming to tell him. Why that was his first thought he didn’t know, but he jumped from his chair and said, “Have him brought up.”

  Pacing the room, John considered the possibilities. Maybe it was Bob. Maybe it was Bobby. Before he could come up with another option, a tall, broad shouldered, younger man came striding slowly into his office. Without a doubt, it was Tuck, and he looked almost exactly how John had him pictured, other than maybe more handsome. He was dressed as a ranch hand might in jeans and a button down plaid shirt. At that moment, John’s mind went blank, unable to come up with any reason at all why Tuck might be there to see him.

  Holding out his hand, he said, “John Keller.”

  Tuck grasped the offered hand and exclaimed, “Wow, you are old.”

  In response to Tuck’s stinging comment, John took a step back.

  “Sorry,” Tuck said, sincerely regretful. “It’s just that I’m surprised, that’s all.” He’d already gotten off to a rocky start. So when John offered for him to sit, he did, and apologized again, this time adding that he just meant old for Chelsea, not old in general.

  At the second apology, John smiled at his honesty and sat down across from him. As soon as he was seated, John realized he was in the same spot where Chelsea sat that very first day they met. In his mind he could see how she fidgeted with her hands in her nervousness. He would give a million dollars to reach out and touch those hands at that moment.

  “So what brings you to LA?” John was understandably curious. The man he supposed would marry Chelsea someday sat across from him looking like the Marlboro man. Ironically, John figured Tuck was too young to even know who that was.

  “I thought you might wanna know; she’s giving up on you.” When John looked away, clearly shaken by his words, Tuck added, “She’s been waiting all this time. Trust me. I know what waitin’ looks like.”

  The reality of Tuck’s mission suddenly settled upon him. What he was doing would ensure that he would lose Chelsea for good. His hopes to be a family, Chelsea, Lucy, and himself were gone as soon as he opened his mouth. He could see by the pained expression on John’s face that he loved her as much as Chelsea believed he did.

  There were many arguments that John wanted to make to justify his position, but he knew how flimsy they would all seem to Tuck. As young as Tuck was, he could hardly envision life twenty-five-years down the road. No man in his twenties could. So he said nothing. Instead, his mind returned to the sight of Chelsea fidgeting with her hands, clearly regretting her decision to come. He should have let her leave. No, he didn’t mean that at all, he quickly thought.

  “Look, I want you to understand. I love her, and the last thing I’ve wanted was to see you show up. But now I realize, if you don’t, she may never be happy again.” Tuck stood and began to pace. All the things he practiced were not coming to mind, so he came out with, “The way I see it, she’ll eventually give up on you, and I’ll be waiting right there to pick up the pieces. Then I guess she’ll have to go through the grieving process, as if she’s not grieving enough already. But I mean when she really and truly gives up. I’ll wait that out too and be there for her. At some point, she will be ready to date again. And guess who’s there?” Pointing to his chest with both thumbs, he answered his own question. “This guy.” Moving to sit down again, resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned in closer to John and admitted, “Here’s the problem with that, though: I know for certain she’ll never love me again, not the way she did before, and never the way she loves you now. I’ll live my life with a woman who considers me second best. Do I love her enough for that? Honestly, yes, I do. But I also love her enough to want to see her with first best.”

  If John hadn’t felt sorry for Tuck when he heard how things ended with him and Chelsea, he did now. His honesty and sincerity was so emotional and heartfelt, John could clearly understand what Chelsea must have seen in him all those years ago. He was a good man, a man like he’d never been himself.

  “That’s what I want, too. I’ve always wanted what’s best for her. Truthfully, I thought maybe that was you. I thought that if only she could reconnect with you, she’d at least have someone to grow old with.” He stopped abruptly, turning away. The image of Chelsea loving Tuck and offering herself to him caused the deepest sense of pain in John’s chest. Tuck was this big, strong, virile man, and he could easily envision Chelsea standing in his arms, clinging to him the way she once did him.

  What John said, about thinking that maybe it was he who was best for Chelsea, for so many years he believed it too. And deep down, he still did, but ultimately, he wasn’t who she wanted. And that mattered. If the pained expression on John’s face were not proof enough, then the fact that he was willing to walk away from her for the reasons he said did prove he loved her as much as she believed. All those months, that’s what she kept holding onto, her certainty that he loved her.

  When Tuck said nothing, John admitted, “I can hardly stand the thought of her being tied down to me when she’s still young. Right now it may not matter to her, but eventually it will.”

  �
�If that’s what you believe, then you hardly know her at all.” Leaning back in his chair, Tuck slung his ankle over his knee and tried to collect his thoughts. Finally, he said, “I’ve been thinking about this since I had breakfast at her place the other day.”

  John winced at the thought of Tuck there with Chelsea eating breakfast. Why would he have been there for breakfast? The vision of her standing in his arms resurfaced.

  “She has this sign that says, ‘Life’s short, eat dessert first.’ Ya know, she’s always lived her life with that outlook. Even as a kid, she wanted the best first. If you asked her if she wanted the good news or bad news, she always wanted the good first. Her belief was that once she had the good, she would have the heart to deal with the bad. It’s the same with you.

  “If you are with her now, that’ll be like having dessert first, having the one she really wants. Yes, she’ll likely have to eat her spinach later, but if you give her the choice, she’d rather have the certainty of this crazy love now. And honestly, your love is pretty crazy with you being old enough to be her dad. But she doesn’t care about that. She loves you, and I’m afraid she’s about to stop living because of it.

  “Sure, there’s the reality that she’ll have to let you go earlier than someone her own age. But who’s to say she will ever find someone else? And if she does, what if it’s just okay love, not the love she feels for you? So either way there’s no guarantee that she’ll end up happy. What you’re doing by trying to give her a better future – and I see that you mean well – but it very well may blow up in her face. Does that make sense?”