by Heaton, Lisa
“I’m not okay with that. As for Sara Beth, when I adopt her,” he lifted his eyebrows indicating it was a matter already settled, “and I will adopt her, we will hyphenate her name, or add a second middle name or something. We can honor John that way. It’s one thing to bring her dad into our family, but there’s no way I’m going to allow you to bring your dead husband into our marriage.”
Tuck studied Chelsea’s face. She was surprised but processing.
“Chelsea, I’m gonna fight with everything I have in me to make you completely mine. I’ll never stop fighting for you.”
She started to speak, but he held his hand up.
“I know what you had with him was some fairy-tale romance, but fairy-tales aren’t real. Ours, yours and mine, ours is an epic love story, the kind that should be written down for future generations, for our kids and grandkids.” Tuck motioned back and forth between them. “John just happened to be a plot twist in our story. He stepped in, but I’m the main character in this love story. This isn’t me stepping into his tragic end.”
Chelsea remained speechless for a moment more. She considered what Tuck said about theirs being an epic love story. It was. It had been all along. Unbuckling her seat belt, she climbed over the center console and into Tuck’s lap. Burying her face in his neck, she nestled in close as he wrapped her up tightly in his arms.
“Thank you for fighting for me. Thank you for always fighting for us.”
Tuck was a bit embarrassed and couldn’t help himself, but at her words, he began to cry. The wait had been so long and most of that wait, things seemed more than hopeless. He had held on to hope when all seemed lost. Then when all was really lost, he held on some more. Now, she was in his arms crying with him.
Chelsea was so proud of Tuck and how strong he was. In the time he had been with her after John died, he quietly lived in the shadows, never presumptuous, never asking for any more than she was able to give. Selflessly, he gave and cared for her and the girls with no guarantee of a future together. He picked up the pieces when she was so broken. Now, he was stepping up, demanding what he had a right to expect from her as his wife. Often, she feared that because of his overwhelming love for her, he would never ask for what he needed or wanted. The last thing she wanted was for him to do all the giving and her do all the taking. At all costs, she would never allow their marriage to be that way.
Lifting her head, she took his face in her hands and began to kiss his cheeks where tears had trickled down.
“This is an epic love story, and you are definitely my leading man.” She smiled and assured him, “I love you, Tucker Bradshaw, always have. Always will.”
Later that night once Chelsea was all alone, the phrase, he is jealous for me, came to mind. For one, it was the beginning of a worship song she used to sing in church, and while the song was speaking of God, she saw that characteristic in Tuck as well. He truly was jealous for her and would stand for nothing less than all of her. Not surprisingly, Tuck was being exactly who Jesus was. As he would be called to love her as Christ loves the church, one element of that love is to be jealous for the entire heart of the beloved, just as Jesus is jealous for the whole heart of those who are His.
While Chelsea could hardly process the entire scope of its meaning, this appeared to be a revelation directly intertwined within the journey she had been on with the Lord the past months. Intentionally, she had set out to give her whole heart to God. Because she had become so off-balanced with John, she was determined to be His first, then Tuck’s. She was certain there was more ahead to this journey and revelation, and she had a sense that this new balanced approach would cause her to love Tuck more healthily and completely than she had ever been capable of loving. It would be a safe and peaceful love, one filled with security and lacking that sick feeling of time running out.
Still, the concept of being in love was fresh on her mind. The term in indicated submersion. That’s what she was on the borderlands of feeling with Jesus, hoping to someday be submerged in her love for Him, drowning in Him. It promised to be a pattern of what healthy love for Tuck would become. Maybe she would never feel what she considered to be in love with Tuck, but this tremendous and sustaining love she felt for him seemed much more mature and far-reaching. Theirs was a love grown in the sweetness of innocence, yet matured and nurtured by pain and loss, still committed and strong. Wasn’t that a truer kind of love?
Sitting in bed, legs drawn up to her chest and chin resting on her knees, she prayed, “These are the deeper waters.” Deep calls to deep echoed in her heart. It was a scripture from the Psalms. Reaching for her Bible on the nightstand, she turned to the verse. She had circled it after reading it in John’s journals.
“Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.” Psalm 42:7
The verse reminded her of what she had asked John one night at his parents, the trip when they went to tell them they were engaged. After something he had said to her, she asked why God hadn’t taken her to the deep places as He had him. Every moment of that night was still fresh in her memory.
Chelsea had been nearly asleep when her bedroom door creaked opened and John came sneaking in quietly. Without lifting the quilt, he lay down next to her and draped his arm over her waist.
“You’re gonna get in trouble,” she sang.
“Please don’t tell.”
“I’m not very good at keeping secrets.”
Chelsea laced her fingers through his and wriggled even closer to him.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Can’t you sleep?” she asked.
“How can I? I’m about to marry you. Soon, we’ll drift off to sleep together and never have to sleep apart again.”
“I’m so excited. This hardly seems real.”
He was quiet for a moment and then finally admitted, “I can’t wait to make love to you. Finally, I’ll know what it’s like to be yours and you to be mine, not just physically, but connected to you, spiritually, I mean. I’ve been trying to imagine, but I think it’s something I’ll have to experience to understand.
“What God’s been trying to show me is that alongside the physical act, there’s a spiritual meaning that I’m not comprehending, something to do with Him. Somehow, this goes back to that night in Santa Monica, the night I acted so crazy on the beach. I was longing for something with you, longing to be connected to you, but I think maybe it was really a longing to be connected to God. It was Him drawing me in.” He chuckled lightly. “Sounds crazy, I s’pose.”
“No, it sounds beautiful.”
Chelsea kept tossing his words over and over in her head. How could physical intimacy between a man and a woman compare to a spiritual connectedness with God? She wasn’t sure she had the capacity to figure it out.
Before too long, he kissed her softly on the cheek and went back to his own bed. For the longest time, though, she couldn’t stop thinking of the things he had said. Finally, after about an hour awake and wrestling with her question, she slipped out of bed and tip-toed into John’s room. She found him sleeping already.
A bit confused finding her sitting on the side of his bed, he mumbled, “Are you okay?”
“Why doesn’t He speak to me that way? Am I doing something wrong?”
“I’m sure He just speaks to us uniquely. For me, this is my deep waters. He’s somehow using what used to be my greatest sin.” He stopped and took Chelsea’s hand, adding, “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Now, He’s showing me that all those years through the act of physical longing, it was really my heart crying out for Him. That was how I acted out my spirit’s desire for God through my body’s desire for women. Does that sound somehow irreverent?”
“No, not irreverent, just deeper than anything I’ve ever known.”
What John said about God speaking to them uniquely was what resounded as truth. God spok
e to John through matters of a sexual nature since that had been his stronghold. He was speaking to her through love, as that was hers. Her love for John had truly overtaken her and pulled her under. The term in love was suddenly seeming less positive in nature and more of something to avoid. If she were going to be submerged in anyone, it needed to be Jesus. Out of the overflow of that love she would love Tuck well. Wouldn’t she?
Again, making a tsking noise, she thought, deep waters, indeed.
Chapter 17
Tuck had never felt so at peace. All the major details had come together, and all that was left was the actual ceremony. Settling where to live, they agreed to stay in the farmhouse while the new house was built, and since that might feel a bit awkward for Chelsea, he bought a new bed for his parents’ room, one they would take with them to the new place. Since his time with Lindsey was so many years behind them, Chelsea said that it truly didn’t matter to her. Actually, it was her idea, considering their last remaining option was to move in with her parents, and neither wanted that, not as newlyweds.
Basically, it would only be a place to sleep. After breakfast, Tuck would head down to the barn while Chelsea and the girls would go to her house to begin packing. With all the wedding details, the last thing Chelsea had had time for was packing the house. Instead, she had packed what she and the girls would need to take to the farmhouse. Since Sara Beth had spent nights there with Lucy, they were hoping that moving from the only home she had ever known to her new home would be an easy transition. With Sara B. it was hard to tell. She was not one for change.
Chelsea felt surprisingly at ease with leaving the house behind. Certainly, so many wonderful memories with John were there, but she felt a supernatural strength enabling her to simply let go. It was an odd feeling, and one that seemed to make Tuck suspicious. He was certain she was hiding her true feelings from him, so when he asked her if she was okay, each time she assured him she was. Maybe when she began to pack, especially John’s things, she would become more emotional, but so far so good.
It was finally Friday, the evening before their wedding. All major hiccups had been addressed, the girls were already down for the night, and Tuck and Chelsea sat quietly on the sofa together. It had been a hurried week and both were exhausted.
“Know what I’m going to do tomorrow night?” Tuck grinned sheepishly.
Chelsea giggled, “Yes.”
In mock surprise, he said, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I meant eat cake.”
With an eye roll she said, “I should have known.”
Pulling her over into his lap, he admitted, “I know this is dangerous, but I’m trusting you’ll behave yourself.”
Holding up her fingers, she said, “Scouts honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“I know.”
With that, she leaned in and began to kiss his neck. She had wanted to do that all night. Once when she attempted to, Lucy walked into the kitchen and was totally grossed out.
Allowing her to kiss his neck, grinning as she trailed kisses along his jawline and up his cheek, he offered, “We can make out, or I can give you a present.”
“Make out,” she mumbled.
“What if it’s something you’ve always wanted?”
“I have that.”
Attempting to kiss his lips, she pouted when he moved her away. She sighed and asked, “Okay. What have I always wanted?”
“Something you may want to wear tomorrow.”
Much more curious, she asked, “Which is?”
Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out the locket, allowing it to dangle from his finger just as Linda had done with him.
“Look familiar?”
Chelsea reached out and allowed the shiny object to rest in her palm. At the sight of her granny’s locket, her eyes stung with tears, so she tried to blink them away.
Excitedly, she turned and insisted, “Put it on me.”
Tuck unhooked the clasp and looped it around her neck, saying, “I knew you would love this.”
She turned back to him and reached for his face. Touching him tenderly, her eyes again filling with tears, she whispered, “You just gave me the moon.”
He grinned. “Finally, a moon I can afford.”
“You’re going to have to get over this money thing.”
Tuck sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I have nothing, and I’m marrying a millionaire. This isn’t easy for me, Chelsea. A man wants to be able to provide.”
“You do provide everything the girls and I need. You give us love and security. There’s nothing we need more than that.”
She knew where the conversation was going. He was breaking ground on the new house, digging the footers for the foundation, and already he was talking about accessing his line of credit on the farm. Chelsea had offered to pay for the house, but so far, Tuck wouldn’t hear of it. She was frustrated; he was frustrated. Somehow, he was going to have to make some concessions in regards to money.
“I can’t help how I feel, and how I feel is that I don’t want to live off my wife’s money.”
Chelsea sighed. “Tuck, we will live anyway you want. If it’s strictly on what you bring in from the farm, we’ll do that. I will never try to force you to do something that bothers you.”
“Can we give it a try my way?”
“You just gave me my granny’s locket. We can do anything you want to do.”
“That’s more like it.”
He pulled her to him and looked at the clock. “Well, it’s about that time. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“I wish you were staying.”
He didn’t, not in that house. He couldn’t be rid of it quickly enough. At least he had noticed fewer photos of John in the past week. She was trying to be considerate, he knew, and of course the sign from the refrigerator was gone.
“I wish you were going with me.”
“I will tomorrow.”
Tuck stood, still holding her hand. “Come walk me to the door.”
Chelsea followed along, and just as they got to the door, Sara Beth came walking down the stairs, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
“Is it the mowow?”
That was her term for tomorrow. Tuck chuckled and went over to pick her up. “No, peaches. It’s still night night time.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “Wiww you stay with me the mowow night?”
“One more night past tomorrow night and you’ll come live in the farmhouse with me.”
“In Wucy’s woom?
“No. Remember, you’ll have your own room?”
“But I don’t want my own woom.”
Chelsea stayed downstairs while Tuck took Sara Beth back up to bed.
When he finally returned, he was shaking his head. “This might not be pretty.”
“I know. That’s why I let you take her up.”
Sara Beth was insistent on sharing a room with Lucy, but in all fairness to Lucy, she was getting too old for that. Eight years apart, their stages of life were just too different to expect Lucy to agree to that. It was a bridge they would have to cross once they moved. What was certain was that Sara Beth was headstrong. It wasn’t going to be just any old bridge ahead of them.
Kissing goodnight for the last time before they married, Tuck admitted, “I wasn’t really thinking about eating cake tomorrow night.”
Giggling, Chelsea said, “I knew better than that.”
“I can hardly wait.” He took her face in his hands and tilted her head up to look at him. “But I want you to know, you are worth the wait. You have always been worth the wait.”
Chelsea was sitting at her dressing table applying lip gloss. It was nearly time to go to the church. Her parents were downstairs waiting for her.
Thinking back to her last wedding day, all Chelsea could recall w
as the peace and serenity of it. All was mostly quiet in the room where she dressed that day. Everyone was weepy and nostalgic. This day couldn’t have been any different. The girls squabbled on and off for most of the day. Sara Beth wanted a dress just like Lucy’s, but hers was a bit different, for a baby, she said. Clearly, this was the difference between a young bride and a mom bride. Chelsea wouldn’t have it any other way, though.
Hearing her mother call for her, Chelsea stood and went to look in the full-length mirror. As she looked at her reflection, it struck her that just after her mother called her name to go and meet John, she had done the exact same thing. It was a sweet reminder, not something to dampen her spirits. John was truly a wonderful plot twist in her love story with Tuck. Her lips formed into a smile as she recalled how Tuck was so insistent that day. The longer she had had to think of his words, the more they rang true. This day was many years in the making, but finally, they would be married just as they should have been all along.
In the mirror, she took one final look at John Keller’s wife. It had been her honor to know him and to love him. There wasn’t another man like him, and she had not one regret as far as loving him went. Theirs was a beautiful story, one maybe not quite so prolonged and epic, but it was certainly a real-life fairy-tale.
Hearing her name again pulled her from her reflections of John. Tuck was waiting on her, and if anyone deserved to stop waiting, it was him.
Tuck stood alone at the altar waiting for Chelsea to walk through the door. Everyone else was seated, his girls there on the front row, awaiting their time to join them. Both were unusually quiet and still until Lucy reached over and took Sara Beth’s hand. In turn, Sara Beth leaned over and rested her head on Lucy’s shoulder. He could only smile at such a sweet sight. It wasn’t but just a few hours ago that he was on the phone with Sara Beth, firmly telling her she had to wear her dress and that it wasn’t for a baby. She looked precious in it. They both did.