by Heaton, Lisa
Why she was unable to sleep this night, Chelsea didn’t know. So far, she had been awake for nearly three hours, praying, hoping for some relief. It had been a very long time since she had caught a glimpse of God, maybe because she had stopped looking. Prior to the springtime revelation that became her undoing, she had begun to walk with God in deeper places. It was like the old days after Tuck broke her heart. She was turning to Jesus, finding Him there waiting at every turn, but since this unexpected anger toward John had surfaced, it seemed to be disrupting her ability to see Him at all. Easily enough, she could grasp the connection between her anger and what she felt to be distance from God. When she told God she was trying, she meant she was trying to forgive John, but until she understood why, she couldn’t seem to make any progress in that area.
Finally, after one in the morning, Chelsea settled on the fact that she might never understand. Whatever John’s motives were for letting go, she had to believe that he loved her every moment of the letting go process. No matter how angry she had been with and at him, she had never once doubted his love for her. She never would. His love for her was seared into her heart like a brand. The very moment when she comprehended the depth of his love for her was when she found him sitting in the hallway of his parents’ house. He kissed her hand and said, “I love you so much it hurts.” She could see the anguish his love for her was causing. His love was true. When nothing else made sense and his actions spoke otherwise, she knew his love to be true. That knowledge was the only thread that kept her hanging on.
Chapter 11
As far as Tuck was concerned, silence was a strong indication that something was amiss. Lucy was rarely quiet, so the quiet ride home concerned him. In the past weeks, she had spent more time with Chelsea than she did with him, much more. It had bothered him enough that he finally insisted that she come home and spend at least one night with him. He had left plenty of things undone just so he could pick her up earlier, but once they were together, he felt as if he had to force her to talk to him.
“Should we eat at home or out? Whatever you want.”
Shrugging, Lucy answered, “Um, I don’t care.”
What she was wondering was how things were with her mom and Sara Beth. Sara Beth had squalled when she left, begging to go with her. Lucy was nearly in tears as she forced Sara B. to stay inside while she stepped out onto the porch. She had tried to hurry and get to her dad’s truck before he had a chance to get to the front door. It was best that he didn’t come in.
“Pick.” He smiled and reached for her hand. “We haven’t had dinner together since early last week.”
“I know, Daddy.”
Comforted by his strong hand wrapped around hers, she smiled back. “Really, anything is fine.”
At her assurance that she didn’t care, he wheeled in to a burger place. Lucy loved their chicken tenders, and he had not taken anything out of the freezer to cook at home. He didn’t want to spend his time with her cooking anyway.
“I’ve missed you. I’m glad you came home tonight.”
“I miss you, too.”
She did miss him. She missed laughing and feeling happy. Nothing was the same anymore.
He hesitated, but finally asked, “Then why don’t you come home anymore?”
Lucy felt tears sting her eyes but quickly blinked them away. “They need me more than you do.”
Tuck studied her words for a second or two. “I know I’m a big guy and all, but I need you, too.” He choked up a bit, but trying to hide it, cleared his throat before saying, “I really do.”
“I know you need me but not like Sara Beth. I’m helping take care of her. She needs me.”
There was something about the sadness in Lucy’s tone that caused a knot to form in Tuck’s stomach. For the first time, he suspected that something was going on that he had missed.
“Why do you think she needs you?”
Even before she answered, he thought back over the past weeks and how, when Lucy did go home with him, she would come flying down the steps to meet him. He hadn’t seen Chelsea for more than a minute or two in the past week. Up until this day, he hadn’t thought anything of it.
“I play with her and keep her out of things. I help fix her breakfast before school and dinner at night. If I’m not there…”
Lucy began to cry. As much as she had tried to keep it secret, it was becoming too much to keep from her dad.
They were still sitting in the truck, and by this point, with Lucy in tears, Tuck was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “If you’re not there, then what? Sweetie, you can tell me anything.”
“Chelsea…” Lucy hesitated, sometimes she felt weird calling her Mom, especially with her dad. “Mom is sleeping a lot. She’s sad, really sad, like Blue Christmas Chelsea.”
He sighed heavily, wondering how he had missed it. “How long has this been going on?”
For so long, Chelsea seemed fine. For obvious reasons, he had stayed clear as much as possible. He would allow her grieving time before he tried to step back into her life. Anything else seemed terribly disrespectful. It didn’t matter how long. From what he could tell, she was getting on with life, and often he found himself surprised at just how well she was doing.
“Not too long,” Lucy said.
Smiling, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “How about I help too?”
Nodding, grateful for how kind he was, she felt guilty for hiding it from him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“For what?”
“For not telling you.”
Curious, he asked, “Will you tell me why you didn’t feel as if you could?”
He didn’t want her to feel as if she had to hide things from him, ever. Once her teenage years came, he wanted her to know that she could always trust him with her feelings.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t let me go there anymore if you found out she wasn’t cooking dinner or making us breakfast.”
Her answer made him sigh. “I would never say you can’t go there. She’s your mom.”
He smiled reassuringly at her. It was true. Never would he keep Lucy from Chelsea.
“So what have you been eating?” he asked.
“Mac and cheese that you put in the microwave, cereal, peanut butter sandwiches – just easy stuff.”
She didn’t tell him that she burned her hand trying to take chicken tenders out of the oven. After that, she stuck to easy stuff.
With his breath caught in his chest, he asked, “You’ve been making sure little Sara Beth is eating too?”
She only nodded and started to cry again. Keeping secrets from her dad had been the worst part.
“Come here.”
At ten, Lucy was still small enough to crawl over the console and snuggle into his lap. For a minute he held her tightly. What an amazing little girl he had. Then he thought of Sara Beth and wondered if anyone had snuggled her in their arms this way recently. The idea that Chelsea wasn’t able to care for her while Lucy wasn’t there caused his stomach to burn. With his eyes closed tightly, he could picture Sara Beth’s sweet face and bright twinkling eyes, which caused the burning inside to only intensify.
“So, does Sara B. like burgers or chicken tenders?”
Tuck and Lucy entered the house through the back door. Lucy had hidden a key so that when she walked home from school she could get in. Chelsea hadn’t shown up to walk her home in almost two weeks. That was another thing she had hidden from her dad, but she assured him that she walked home with Danny from down the street and his granny, never alone.
The kitchen was a disaster. There were dishes stacked in the sink and sitting around on the counter. It was not yet hoarder-bad, but it was far from the home Chelsea normally kept.
When he moved into the living room, he found Sara Beth sitting in front of the TV eating dry cereal out of the box. Th
e peanut butter sandwich Lucy had made for her before leaving was still untouched. Chelsea was sleeping soundly on the sofa nearby. As soon as Tuck held his arms out to Sara Beth, she grinned and reached for him. Just as Lucy affected him with her sweet little smile, Sara Beth moved him as much. She was a beautiful little black-haired girl. Her eyes were exactly like John’s, greenish with a hint of brown, and he imagined the sight of them caused Chelsea to long for him every day.
Once he got the girls settled in and eating dinner, he started working on the kitchen. The living room was just as much a mess, but it was all toys and books scattered about, something he could work on the next day.
Allowing Chelsea to rest, Tuck worked with Lucy on homework while Sara Beth colored. She sat in his lap the entire time, often stopping to show him what she was doing. For a two-year-old, she had an amazingly broad vocabulary. The best part of hearing her talk, though, was that she wasn’t able to say l’s and r’s very well. “Wook at this,” she would say, or “bwue is my favowite.”
She was a precious little girl, and he adored every single minute holding her, never once forgetting she was a part of Chelsea. Since he had been around her from time to time, she had no fear of him and seemed to take to him immediately and chattered non-stop. Maybe she was starving for adult attention. At the thought of it, he held her more tightly to him, whispering in her ear what a sweet girl she was. Whatever she needed, he was there for the long haul to make sure she got it.
After the girls finished dinner, he placed a few calls to find some help around the farm. The next morning, he planned to get up extra early and work until daylight then head over to Chelsea’s to get the girls up and fed, walk Lucy to school, and spend time getting the house back in order. Until he figured out a better plan, that would work.
While he considered calling Gail, he quickly dismissed that idea. She was working and seemed to love it. If she found out what was going on at Chelsea’s, she would likely quit her job and jump in. He didn’t want to see her do that. If he were completely honest, he wanted to be the one to help. This was his family, as odd as that sounded, and he wanted to take care of them. These little girls at the table were his, both of them, in his heart anyway. Since John’s visit to his place that day, he had already wrapped his heart around loving them all, as if that required much.
Chelsea woke to find Sara Beth gone from the living room. It scared her. When they were alone together, she was usually able to stay awake, but after Lucy left, and once Sara Beth finally calmed down, she must have drifted off. Now, finding them all at the table eating, she was relieved.
“Hey.” Tuck decided not to make a big deal of things. “Are you hungry?”
As she stood watching them, she felt numb, glad to see him, but numb. “Naw, not really.”
Standing with Sara Beth, Tuck placed her back on his seat, saying, “You finish this for me. I’m going in to talk to your mama for a minute.”
He winked at Lucy as he left the kitchen and followed behind Chelsea to the sofa. Once she was settled back in, he sat on the edge beside her. It appeared as if she might go back to sleep.
“You want to talk?”
She only shook her head.
“I think we need to.”
When she didn’t say anything, he said, “Lucy’s just a little girl. She can’t take care of things around here. That’s not fair to her.”
Chelsea burst into tears. “Please don’t take her away from me. I’ll do better. I promise.”
“Hey, hey.”
Tuck scooped Chelsea up and held her to him, reminded of the night on her front porch when John first came to town. She had said those same words, begging him not to take Lucy away.
“I would never do that.”
When she made no move to pull away, he continued to hold her near. Whispering softly, he assured her, “We’ll get you through this. I’m here to help.” He felt her nod.
Before long, she was back asleep and Tuck took over. For as long as it took, he would step in and be the dad.
That night, once he got home and settled into bed, he laid with his arms stretched behind his head and recounted the evening at Chelsea’s. It was the best night he had in he couldn’t remember how long. As much as he hated that Chelsea was feeling the way she was, to step in and be part of a family made Tuck feel as if he had purpose again. Being there, taking care of the little things that night, he felt a sense of family life that he had never known. His mother, Lucy, and he were certainly a family, but family life that night felt different, more complete in some way. Although Chelsea was not part of the evening activities, she was there under the same roof with them. The girls giggled and played. Even as he got them ready for bed, there was an excitement about being all together. He could tell Sara Beth felt it too since she clung to him until that very last second before climbing under the covers.
“Wiww you come pway with me again?” she had asked.
Tuck smiled at the memory of it. With that sweet little voice and those big, round innocent eyes, he would do most anything she asked.
He began praying for Chelsea again, and though he wasn’t sure exactly what to pray, he knew he needed to pray for her healing. Sleep was only a way to hide from brokenness. She was broken, and only God could heal that.
For the first few days, Tuck was able to keep their new way of life quiet, but it wasn’t long before Bob found out that he had brought in extra help at the farm. Tuck had two guys that came, each every other day. It was working but costing him every bit of profit he would make. That was okay for the time being. If he had to, he would borrow some money against the farm, whatever it took to keep things going both at home and at Chelsea’s
Once Gail got wind of what was going on, she talked to Tuck and agreed to allow him to keep doing what he was doing, but soon enough, she found someone to help during the daytime hours while she worked and Tuck did what he could at the farm. The new weekday consisted of Tuck rising before the sun and getting as much accomplished as he could at the farm, driving into town to get the girls up and fed and Lucy to school, Sara Beth in tow, back to the house to spend some time with Sara Beth before Kara, the girl they had hired arrived. Gail went from work straight to Chelsea’s to relieve Kara and stayed until Tuck arrived. Typically, Gail had dinner ready for them, so all Tuck had to do was play with Sara Beth and help Lucy with homework. It was working well.
Chelsea’s moods were up and down. Some days, she ate dinner with them; sometimes she never came out of her room. Tuck allowed her space. On more than one occasion, they, her parents and him, discussed her getting some professional help. So far, she had only refused.
It was during the second week that Tuck finally sat with her and asked, “What happened? You were doing so well.”
Chelsea was resting on the sofa, having just had a small dinner with Tuck and the kids. Surprised that this was the first time Tuck brought up the subject, she was honest with him. “He didn’t have to die.”
Tuck didn’t know what to say to that. The pained expression in her eyes gripped his heart. She was still in her pj’s and her hair was a mess. He hadn’t seen her wear regular clothes in so long, this nearly seemed normal to him. Since this turn in Chelsea’s emotional state, he had prayed for her more than he had ever prayed. It hurt him tremendously to know her pain was over her lost love when he loved her so much that he would gladly give his own life for her. At times, when he would catch a glimpse of such complete emptiness in her eyes, the truth would settle deep into his heart. Love like she felt for John, just like the love he had for her, never ended. It never went away. Every time that realization would cross his mind, he would try his best to shake it off since he knew what that meant for him.
“I found out he took himself off the transplant list. He refused the heart when one was offered to him.”
Tuck was stunned. It never crossed his mind that some new piece of information ha
d actually triggered this episode of depression. He figured that it all finally caught up with her. At the funeral home, she seemed almost too strong, nearly robotic, so even then, he suspected that true grief would finally come. Obviously she had found this out recently, but he didn’t ask any more questions. The last thing he wanted was to become some confidant that she talked to about John. He couldn’t handle that. Easily enough, he could cook and clean and play with the girls, the highlight of his every day, but he didn’t want to hear Chelsea pining over her dead husband. As much as he was trying to die to himself, to be there for her purely as a friend and put his truest feelings aside, it was simply too much for him to talk through her feelings for John.
Tuck thought back to the day John visited him at the farm. That must have been around the time when John got off the transplant list. That was how he knew he was going to die, but Tuck surely wasn’t going to tell Chelsea about their conversation.
Finally, feeling forced to say something in response, he said, “I’m sure there’s some rational explanation.”
Chelsea shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”
She stood, moved past Tuck, and not surprisingly, headed upstairs to her room. Before he could think much more about it, Sara Beth came running toward him with a book in hand.
“Wead me this book,” she said as she climbed up into his lap and snuggled in.
“I’d wove to wead you this book.” He hugged her tightly and added, “First, tell me who’s your favorite Tuck of all.”
Giggling, she said, “You’we my favowite Tuck of all.”
As he read the book, often he would lose track of what he was reading he was so enamored with Sara Beth. It felt good to have a little one in his lap again. Because he loved Chelsea so much, he had always loved Sara Beth. From the moment she was born, he had. In his heart, he was already her daddy, and without question, she felt it too. Since she was confused over the fact that Lucy called him daddy, at times she would call him daddy too. When she did, Lucy would laugh and tell her his name was Tuck. It was sad for Sara Beth that she couldn’t call him daddy like Lucy did. When Lucy would correct her, Sara Beth would get this baffled look on her face, as if trying to figure out why they each called him a different name. She didn’t understand one was a name and the other a title.