Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 2

by Chautona Havig

  “Well then, it’s not a problem. Even if Willow never falls madly in love with you, and frankly, I think if you actually tried to win her affections she would, she does love you. It’s evident from a million sides. She looks to you for leadership when she doesn’t know what to do; she tries so hard to please you and does it all without losing her own identity.”

  His lips twisted as he quipped, “Maybe you should marry her.”

  “I would if she was the right gender and I wasn’t already stuck with that old lug!”

  “And don’t you forget it, Mari.” Christopher leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clenched. Chad recognized the “this is the only time you’ll hear this from me” stance. “Son, you haven’t given either one of you a chance to fall in love. You’ll have to try. You’ll have to show her marked attention, all the way from her appearance to overt flirting. You should be very good at that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you come from two very sappy parents who would love to give you a demonstration of how it’s done if you think it’ll help.”

  “No thanks,” Chad insisted. “I think I get the gist.”

  Marianne and Christopher cleared the coffee table of their chocolate mugs and tray and said goodnight to Chad. “Pray, son,” Christopher admonished. “Pray that you will know not only what the Lord’s will is, but how to act on it.”

  Chad did. He prayed. For an hour, he poured out his fears, his hopes, and laid them at the Lord’s feet. He sat with his hands over his head as though protecting himself from a verdict he didn’t want to hear as he meditated on every scripture he could bring to mind.

  Cheri came down and saw him on her way to the kitchen. She sat beside him on the couch and leaned against him. “When I was in the pit that summer, I thought I would die. I prayed I would die. I begged the Lord to release me every day and every day, the Lord said no.”

  “How did you know it was no? Were you hearing voices by that point?”

  “I knew it was no when I woke up in the same situation the next morning.”

  “Why didn’t you quit praying for it?” It seemed insane to him. “Why put yourself through that torture?”

  “Because I knew that it might have been the Lord’s will for me to live another day with the struggles I had, but I didn’t want another one unless I had to.”

  He turned his head to meet her gaze. “And I assume there’s a corollary to this?”

  “When Jesus prayed for deliverance, He meant it. I trusted in that every single day that I prayed that same prayer. I believe with all my heart that His prayer to escape the coming trials was heart-felt and sincere. He wanted out. However, if out wasn’t the best, He wanted the strength to endure whatever ‘in’ would bring.”

  “And that makes sense with what you did at camp that year but—”

  “Chad, your ‘in’ is nothing compared to Golgotha. Your ‘in’ is the difference between winning the lottery or winning the Publisher’s Clearing House. One of them will cost you something. Not much probably, but something. The other costs next to nothing—a stamp. Both are huge blessings. Don’t tear up your winning ticket or your entry just because you wanted to win at slot machines instead.”

  “What,” Chad chuckled, “Is with you and mom and the gambling analogies?”

  “Well, they fit for one thing,” she explained. “And we just watched Ocean’s Eleven, which might have influenced us a little…”

  “Go to bed. And thanks.”

  “Just a hint, laddie.”

  “Hmm?”

  Cheri grinned. “Save your announcement until after Luke’s wedding.”

  “It’ll take that long to get her to agree.”

  “Even so,” she began, “if she says yes tomorrow, wait. Luke is always in the shadow of those girls and even us. Let him have this stage moment. He’s so proud of that family of his.”

  “Gotcha. You’re right.”

  Cheri grinned. “I’m always right. It’s about time you noticed that.”

  “Go to bed.”

  Once certain that his family was in bed, Chad turned out the downstairs lights, taking note of all of the mistletoe festooned places in the downstairs area of the house. He slowly climbed the stairs and quietly opened Willow’s door. The hall light illuminated her room just enough for him to see the rise and fall of her back as she slept. He sat on the edge of her bed and prayed for her.

  She stirred and rolled over on her other side facing him. Her hair was unbound and covered her face irritating her as she slept. Her hands fidgeted around her face trying to push the hairs out of the way until finally, Chad tucked them behind her ears. The restlessness settled and her breathing grew slow and even again.

  With a sigh of resignation and a heart heavy with concern, Chad kissed her temple and left the room closing the door behind him. “It all sounds so easy until you have to do it…”

  Doors slammed and excited voices squealed. Suddenly the house filled with a din that woke Willow from a sound sleep. She scrambled from her bed and peeked down the stairs. Aggie’s children. Why hadn’t she thought about them? She hadn’t brought anything for them—nothing but Vannie’s dress that she’d intended to send back with Luke. Of course, he’d bring his fiancée to “Christmas” morning with the family.

  As quickly as possible, Willow threw on her skirt, sweater, and slippers. She pulled her hair, a hopeless tangle, into a quick ponytail and hurried to wash her face and brush her teeth. Chad emerged from his room looking sleepy and grumpy. “What’s the racket?”

  “Aggie and the children just arrived.”

  With a bear yawn, Chad hurried to brush his teeth. “Go hold the baby or something so they’ll gimme a minute to wake up.”

  She dodged walking under a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the hall light and hurried down the stairs. Aggie handed Willow a sleepy baby Ian and hurried to corral the littlest twins down in the basement. Luke piled two plates of food from the breakfast buffet and herded a few more children after her. “Aunt Marianne, we’re going to keep an eye on the little guys downstairs until Vannie and Laird are through eating.”

  “What about the little ones, do you need help fixing plates or something?”

  “Everyone but the four of us ate at home. Blood sugar drops and car rides aren’t fun.”

  Willow listened to the discussion as she watched the baby sleep. He’d tried to explore her entire house the last time he’d been there, but hadn’t been willing to get too far from Aggie’s sight. She wondered if he was bolder now, or if he still liked the security of knowing his “mother” was nearby. Somehow, that thought reminded her of herself. Learning to walk in this new world of people and friends but still holding onto the security blankets her mother kept them wrapped in for so many years.

  Libby entered knocking and calling out “Merry Christmas Year!”

  Wrapped in her own little world of baby cheeks and tiny hands, Willow didn’t hear or notice when Libby shoved several packages under an already overloaded tree. “He’s a sweetie, isn’t he?” Libby’s whisper and the brush of the back of her hand over Ian’s hair caught Willow’s attention.

  “Aggie let me hold him. Wasn’t that nice? I didn’t know they’d be here or I would have brought—well, something!”

  “Can you imagine their house with just a ‘little something’ for each child? If we all did that, they’d go home with a hundred new things to find places for. I’m glad you didn’t know, and I’m sure that’s why Marianne didn’t tell anyone.”

  “But to be opening gifts—how cruel to the children to be left out!”

  “They’d be happy for everyone else. They got their gifts already. The littlest ones might struggle, but I think it’d be good for them frankly.” At Willow’s shocked face, Libby added, “But don’t worry, they’re just staying for breakfast and then going on over to Zeke’s.”

  “So they won’t be here—”

  “No. You can stop devising gifts from thin air now.”


  Willow visibly relaxed and sank further into the couch. “I’ll just sit and hold this little man then. He snores sometimes. Isn’t that cute!”

  “Looks like someone is ready for a baby or two around her house.”

  “If they were all like him, I’d take twenty and have them delivered tomorrow morning.”

  Libby’s laughter brought wrinkles to the baby’s brow and he snuggled even more closely to Willow. “I think you’d find twenty baby boys to be more than even you could handle.”

  “I don’t suppose Aggie thinks she has her hands full enough and wants to let him come live with me?”

  Chad watched the conversation from the dining room doorway. He couldn’t hear the words but from the look on Willow’s face, she was enjoying her first “baby fix.” Libby’s expression was indulgent and slightly teasing. He hoped his aunt would plant a seed in Willow’s mind. Watching Luke with Aggie’s children and the paternal air it gave him was heartwarming. Maybe…

  “Mom, did you see this?”

  Marianne turned from the buffet table and watched the scene before her. Her son watched Willow as she smoothed the baby’s hair, brushed a cheek, or let the child’s hands curl around her finger. Libby needed to talk to her.

  “Libby, can you help me in the kitchen?”

  “Are you sure you guys don’t want to come with us?” Marianne paused and waited for Chad and Willow to answer.

  “I don’t think so, Mom.”

  “Thanks Marianne, but I don’t think I’d make it until midnight.”

  Christopher, carrying two bowls and a plastic sack full of something, urged her out the door. “Let’s go! I don’t want to miss the sports blooper reenactment.”

  The house settled into a quiet hush once the door closed behind Chad’s parents, Cheri, and Chuck. Willow leaned her back against the couch and covered her eyes. Chad stretched asking, “Rough day?”

  “I had fun. Aggie’s children were a nice diversion.”

  “You seemed to enjoy the baby…”

  She nodded with a slight smile hovering about her lips and making her appear as though she had a secret. “I loved how he smelled and the way he just seemed to melt into me. I always dreamed about having two sons.” She paused. “Don’t say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That if I would just quit being so stubborn, I could have them.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, Willow,” Chad whispered. “I thought I made it clear that I was talking about a marriage with separate bedrooms—at least for a while anyway.”

  “Am I that repulsive?”

  “Willow, no…”

  She rubbed her temples. “Libby spent half the afternoon telling me how I’m not trusting God and His plan for His creation. How He made men to need this stuff, and I’m just not doing my part—”

  “She said what!”

  Willow sat brooding over the words Libby had spoken to her. “You heard me.”

  “Yes, but I don’t believe you. Aunt Libby would not tell a girl it was her duty to marry anyone so he could fill some animalistic urge to feed his own lusts.”

  “Well she didn’t say that—” Willow admitted.

  “What exactly did she say?”

  As Willow struggled to remember Libby’s exact words, she realized that she’d deliberately taken the encouragement and twisted it in her mind to make it into something she could reject. The realization sickened her. “Oh, Chad. How despicable.”

  “What is?”

  “I chose to hear her words and tone to mean things that are repugnant to me. It was deliberate… and ugly.”

  “Aww, Willow—”

  “I’ve driven a wedge between us.”

  “No you haven’t.”

  She nodded. “I did this with Mother a couple of years ago when I thought she was being too stubborn about me going to Rockland with her. I thought I wanted to see the city—”

  “That probably didn’t go over well.”

  “I was ugly. Probably the result of usually getting my way in everything. Mother was adamant. I accused her of lying about her attack, that she made trips to see my father and was just keeping me from him. I can’t think about it without getting sick.”

  Dismay crossed his face. “Oh, Willow.”

  “See. You’re pulling away from me just like she did.”

  “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

  “No, and a week ago,” she insisted, “You wouldn’t be sitting across the room from me afraid to come near me.”

  Chad sighed. “What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t want anything to change.”

  He shifted in his seat, trying to make room for her, and gestured for her to join him. “C’mere.”

  “You’re not going to talk me into—”

  “Hush and come here.”

  “My you get bossy when you don’t get your way,” she tried to tease as she crossed the room tentatively.

  He pulled her to him but they simply didn’t fit in the chair. She frowned as he stood, punched the CD player, and began to two-step around the room by himself, his arms empty and awkward looking as they held an imaginary person. Willow watched for a moment and then finally gave in and asked the obvious question.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Dancing.”

  “But you can’t dance alone.”

  “No, but right now, you’re more comfortable dancing with yourself, and that leaves me dancing alone too.”

  Her eyes followed as he held the air and danced around the room in time with the music. At the end of the song, he made motions as though dipping his partner, which sent Willow into stitches. “Oh, Chad.”

  He crossed the room and stood looking down at her. “One of my favorite movies has a scene where a man describes dancing as a conversation between two people.” Chad paused before quoting the line directly, “‘Talk to me.’”

  Instinctively, Willow knew Chad was communicating more than a request for a dance. “I’m afraid.”

  “I won’t lead you anywhere you aren’t ready to go.”

  “Even—”

  He held out his hand, his eyes earnestly encouraging her to take it. “Especially there, Willow. Especially.”

  After a moment’s hesitation—and then a couple more—Willow stood, placed her hand in his and tried to smile. “Then let’s dance.”

  As Chad pulled her to him, an impish glint filled his eyes and he glanced upward. Willow’s eyes followed and the sight of a sprig of ribbon festooned mistletoe. Her eyes flew to his face and widened as he leaned in to kiss her. A nervous giggle escaped when his lips brushed her forehead.

  “I told you, Willow, nowhere that you’re not ready to go.”

  To be continued…

  Alone without friends or family to comfort her after the death of her mother, Willow Finley’s idyllic life is over—and just beginning.

  Follow Willow as she learns to blend her old life with the new, experiences things she’s only read about, and makes the first friends she’s ever had. Living as if in the past, her life is moving forward.

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