by Chana Keefer
I flipped open my journal to the meticulously numbered items under the heading “What I Want in a husband.” My eyes filled with tears as I read. I had asked for an honest man who loved God with all his heart, a man who could make me laugh and would encourage my dreams and goals, a man who had a good relationship with his family, who loved music and would even enjoy old movies with me. The list went on, full of all my high hopes of what true love would be.
Number ten stood out as if written in neon:
“And is it too much to ask that he would be just as inexperienced on our wedding night as I am? After all, if I’ve made the commitment to be pure for him, couldn’t he have done the same as well?”
I turned back to Sky’s journal to read the final entries.
Tonight, I saw the shock and revulsion in your eyes. How can I explain this? I grew to hate myself that I couldn’t offer Karina some way to escape her past. She was desperately strangled by insecurity and fear. She never learned how to have a lasting relationship. I truly wish there had been more depth in me to offer her a lifeline rather than an anvil when she was drowning.
I guess there’s a part of me that’s afraid. I can’t begin to tell you how I have grown to cherish you, not just through the short time we had together, but also through your heart that you’ve recorded on the pages of your journal. Even though it’s what I deserve, I don’t think I could face being rejected by you. Someday you might realize what you missed by being with me instead of a bloke who didn’t make these mistakes. No, it’s not too much to ask of God. I want that for you and… that’s not me.
Goodbye Esther. I love you too much to wish less for you.
I stopped reading as the words blurred and tears spilled onto the page. He loved me? After all the months of hopelessness, it was a shock.
3 a.m.
I’ve tossed and turned and paced the floor until I’m going mad. I can’t leave you this way, without some type of explanation. Perhaps it’s just an excuse to see you again, but I’ve decided to track you down in the morning. I have a feeling where to find you. One of the stage crew, Gavin, has an old car. Perhaps I can borrow it.
5 p.m. Enroute to San Francisco--
Secretly watched you today like a deranged stalker as you romped in the rain with Sammy. I wanted to join you but I didn’t need to make it harder for either of us. You’ll get past this probably much more efficiently than I would ever want to know. You have a source of strength and joy that won’t fail you—even if I have. It did my heart good to see you play like a child. By the way, your Texas thunderstorms are quite daunting.
Sammy almost blew my cover racing up the stairs like that. I had to jump down from the second level of the barn, but luckily I’ve had experience with that sort of thing.
I still can’t decide if this is the bravest or most cowardly thing I’ve ever done. I do know it’s the hardest. Does that make it brave?
San Francisco will have no effect on me. I left my heart in a barn in Texas.
I thought about what Sky said. I somewhat understood his reasoning, especially since I listed “purity” as one of my desires for a husband. But, I somehow didn’t feel as pure as the girl who wrote those words. Repeatedly, in the past two years, I had been drug through the mud of life, so to speak. The incident with Devin flashed so clearly in my mind. What if my friends hadn’t returned in the nick of time? What if Devin had accomplished his goal that night? I would have felt like damaged goods even if I had fought him tooth and nail. In many ways, I still felt like damaged goods. It would take some work to get past that.
It struck me that, whether by choice or ignorance, no one is pure. Would God have been able to love me even if I had been raped? Of course. But would I have felt lovable? Probably not. That would have required fixing.
I thought about the rock I’d thrown in anger earlier that night. There were no delusions of my own perfection. Whoever signed on for the long haul with me—God help them.
Several of my favorite Bible heroes came to mind; King David, an adulterer and murderer; Mary Magdalene, a prostitute; Paul, helping stone an innocent man. Each had received a fresh start. Each had a place of great honor in the Bible. Didn’t God still give second chances?
Fresh tears rolled down. I didn’t want a perfect husband. As my father once said, “There was only one perfect man and He never married.”
The truth was, we both needed work, everyone does, that’s why a perfect man had to die. Perfect love could fill in the gaps, the places where we were chipped and cracked, if we let it.
All I knew was I had a huge, Sky-shaped hole in my heart. I drew the sleeve of my sweatshirt across my eyes and continued to read the words that insisted on blurring.
Had a row with Gram today. I told her bits about you in the past and she wanted to know if anything ever came of it. I explained the situation quite ably, I thought. She did not see it my way.
“Oh pish posh. If that’s not the most ridiculous bit of rubbish I’ve ever heard! You string the poor girl along for two years and then decide to be noble? I do believe you’re just scared witless. I never raised you to be a coward.”
I couldn’t convince her that a great deal of my decision was based on what’s right for you.
“And she has no say in the matter? That’s awfully fair.” Gram can be quite sarcastic when she’s angry.
I finally tired of defending my position and she progressed to making that little snorting noise through her nose. Thank goodness the visit is only a short one since there remains one leg of our European tour for the year.
I did hear Jeremiah had received correspondence from you. He wouldn’t show your letter to me. Obviously he still holds a grudge in that regard.
There was a month-long gap until the last entry.
Held a beautiful, curly-haired blue fairy in my arms tonight and felt my heart entwine ever tighter around her gloved finger.
Esther, I am so sorry for hurting you. By the time you finish reading this, if you read this, I will be well on my way back to Glasgow to re-join the tour. I am so sorry you got caught between me and a meddlesome old woman. Perhaps someday… I don’t know. I do know I wish I was the right man for you. He will be very lucky indeed.
Love,
Sky
I couldn’t believe it. Once again, he was gone and I had no guarantee of ever seeing him again. He loved me. It was there in black and white. But he couldn’t bring himself to pursue it because it was against the odds? Wasn’t that what love was all about?
Did Westley give up on Buttercup?
Did Prince Phillip give up on Aurora?
Did those ladies ever want to smack their prince upside the head?
I gripped the journal in my hands as if squeezing it would make Sky see reason. With a yell, I hurled it across the room. It landed dangerously close to the fire and I raced out of the bed to pull it out of harm’s way only to pick it up and throw it again.
I was so sick of the helplessness. My frustration reached a boiling point and I paced the room seeking an outlet, finally striding out the French doors to stalk the small balcony. No more playing the victim. I’d follow him to Glasgow and have it out with him.
But how would I reach him? I didn’t even know where he was joining the rest of the crew.
My fists clenched and I beat them on the wood railing of the balcony, which did absolutely nothing but hurt my hands. I spun around and saw the outdoor chaise sitting innocently in the center of the balcony. A cry of rage broke from the depths of my heart and I kicked it with all my might. Shockwaves of pain coursed through my body and I crumpled down, sobbing.
An image came to mind of my niece, Naomi, when over-excitement and too many Christmas treats caused her to pitch a fit on the floor.
Here I was throwing a toddler’s tantrum. What else could I do?
I heard a sound in the bushes next to the balcony and vaguely wondered what wildlife made the noise. But even if it was Nessie herself, it wouldn’t have stopped the sobs that sho
ok me to the core.
Soon a pair of warm arms wrapped around my shoulders as a well-loved voice whispered, “Shhh. It’s okay now, Love. I’m here. Don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere.”
I looked up through my tears. “No,” I moaned. “No. No. No!” I shrugged off his hands and stumbled to my feet only to crumple back down with a yelp. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I reached toward my throbbing foot. “Ow,” I whimpered. Good grief. Now I even sounded like Naomi.
“Are you alright?” Sky knelt down and reached for my foot. The moonlight revealed the blood.
“I hate this!”
“You hate what? You hate me?”
“I hate being helpless. I hate that my heart is in someone else’s hands and it scares the hell out of me! I hate that you can walk away and leave me shredded and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it!”
Now that was out of my system, the dam broke. I never cussed, never drank… and tried never to lose control. But my pride was a great, ugly beast dying a painful death. It hurt—even more than my shredded foot.
Sky’s arms went around me again and this time I had no energy to fight. I turned my face to his chest as my shoulders shook with wracking sobs. He stroked my hair and repeated, “Shhhh, it’s okay, Love,” over and over. Finally, the storm abated and my entire body relaxed as if tranquilized.
I knew this feeling. Peace enfolded me like a warm blanket, a peace beyond any circumstances. My breathing became slow and steady as if in deep sleep.
“When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll…”
Sky’s voice was barely a whisper as he sang the familiar melody. My head relaxed against his shoulder as the last bit of tension evaporated. Everything was so quiet inside and out as he finished the simple refrain.
“It is well,
It is well with my soul.”
There were no audible words in my head. I just knew, deep, deep inside, that everything would be all right. I have no idea how long we sat folded together on the floor of the balcony. It could have been minutes or hours, but it felt as if time simply stood still.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
As if emerging from anesthesia, I opened my eyes to the moonlit glow of the balcony and wiped a shirtsleeve across each cheek before glancing up at him.
“Still here? You’re a brave soul.”
He grinned back before kissing the tip of my nose.
“Braver still,” I quipped.
“Is that as bad as it gets?” He asked.
“That’s the worst I’ve experienced.”
“Okay.” He raised his eyebrows as if unimpressed. “I can deal with that. I’ll just need to keep an eye out for the warning signs so I’ll know when to hide the kitchen knives.”
“Good idea.”
“Now, can we tend to your wounds before you bleed all over Gram’s deck?”
I started to comply, but the jolt to my foot when I put weight on it felt like stepping on broken glass.
“You’re going to insist on being a royal pain, I can tell.” He gathered me up and carried me to the bed. “Not quite what I envisioned for the first time I got to do this,” he muttered with a grin as he deposited me among the pillows. “Now, let’s survey the damage.”
Sky clicked on the bedside lamp and pulled my foot onto his lap. It was not a pretty sight even with the red-polished toes. A matching, bright red gash ran down the outside of my foot and three of my toes swelled at an alarming rate.
“I don’t suppose this would be the time for a round of ‘This Little Piggie?’” He commented. “Don’t move.”
He rummaged in the bathroom and soon returned with a large bowl and a towel. “We need to get that clean, then I’ll get Kate.”
I stifled a yelp as Sky placed my foot in the warm water and bathed away the blood. “It’s not deep anyway. That’s good news. But these poor toes have seen better days.” He brought my foot out to gently pat it dry.
“What’s this?” He spotted the ace bandage wrapped around my other ankle.
“Um… yesterday… rolled down a hill,” I answered. “Look, I’m a klutz with a bad temper. Now ya know.”
He fetched more warm water, then proceeded to bathe the other foot and ankle as well. “I see Kate’s ‘boo-boo goo’ has been here before me. Good. You have quite a bit of swelling. Did she leave more?”
I indicated the dresser where a jar of her special concoction sat.
“She used pounds of this stuff on me over the years.” Sky went into a brief history while he dressed my wounds. “Attempted to fly off the roof… broken ankle. Fell out of a tree… two broken arms. Rode a horse bareback and was bucked off into the fence… twenty stitches and a broken collarbone. My personal favorite, created a ski slope on the attic stairs… concussion and broken wrist. I truly thought Gram was going to kill me as soon as she found out the fall hadn’t done the job. Had a couple of good runs though. If I hadn’t taken an interest in music, to ‘soothe the savage beast’ as Gram put it, I probably wouldn’t be alive today.”
“I’ve had some close calls, but I’ve never broken anything.”
“You may have to change that story after tonight. It appears you have at least some broken toes here.”
I slumped back on the pillows. “What a great way to ruin a trip. It’s gonna be loads of fun hobbling around airports like this.”
“Who’s going to be hobbling around airports?”
“Well, I am. We leave tomorrow, remember?”
“I see a number of problems with that schedule.” He propped my feet on pillows. “First, you need to see a doctor. Second, it would be unwise to travel in this condition. And third,” Sky removed a pillow behind my head until I laid flat, “I have no intention of letting you go.”
He leaned forward with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Besides, thanks to my Grandmother’s solid steel outdoor furniture, I finally have you right where I want you.”
“Where you want me? Earlier you were angry to see me. You even wrote in the journal you’d decided to ditch me. Again. Why should I trust you now?”
Sky took a deep breath. “First, I was told in no uncertain terms that I was being an ass. I explained to Gram I didn’t deserve you and she said, ‘You’re right. Sounds like the start of a damn good relationship to me.’ Actually, she said more. I never knew her language could be so salty. Bottom line though, I found I didn’t have the strength to leave you again. I climbed up here to see if I still had any chance whatsoever and, lucky for me, the furniture had already broken through your defenses.”
“Seriously though, I’ve lost count of how many times… ”
He broke in. “Look, I’ve been a fool, but I’m new at this, this thing of putting someone else’s best interests above my own. Please forgive me, Esther. If you’ll have me, warts and all, I’ll never walk away again.”
I heard only the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears as he brought my hand up and intertwined our fingers. The heat rose to the tips of my ears as he turned it over and brought my open palm to his lips.
Sky raised his eyes to mine and I couldn’t look away. “What I wrote in the journal is true. I love you, you hay-fighting, rock-throwing Texas rose.”
Mouth went dry. Brain short-circuited.
“Aren’t you going to say it back?” Sky prompted. “It’s tradition.”
“You’re serious.” I studied his face; favorite eyes in the world, lips that had just said those wonderful words. “So what does this mean?” It was rhetorical, a prompt for me to believe the unbelievable.
Sky laughed. “What? I have to explain ‘I love you’?”
“Just give me a minute. I’m like a… yo-yo that’s been pulled back and forth so much, things are still spinning.”
Sky leaned his head on his hand with a sigh.
“This is a big deal. I’ve never said this to anyone. And I just learned your real name tonight. Lester? Lester and… Esther?” I wrinkled my nose, feigning h
esitation.
“All right, you. Say it.” Sky, with eyes full of fun, pulled me into his arms, comforter and all. “Say, ‘Even though you’ve driven me crazy and done so many stupid things and your grandmum tricked me and our names sound silly together, I love you and I can’t live without you.’”
For a moment I just breathed, soaking in the feel of his arms around me, the little happy crinkles beside his eyes when he smiled. “Even though I might wake up to find this whole amazing thing was a dream, I love you, Lester, Sky, whatever your name is, and I can’t live without you.”
All the prayers and pain melted into this one moment of fulfillment as Sky leaned his forehead against mine. It was a perfect, peace-filled oasis as the fire crackled. Somewhere in the house a clock chimed twice.
“I’ve got to go and I’m not sure I can do it.”
Sky’s words made my arms tighten.
“You’re making it very difficult you know.”
“Good,” I whispered before bringing his mouth to mine.
He reached to flick off the lamp. I greatly enjoyed the next few moments of delirium before putting a hand to his chest. His eyes reflected the fire’s glow as I asked in a shaky voice, “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”
“What flight?” He brushed my hair aside to kiss a sensitive spot behind my ear.