Drew held a paper plate with two slices of pepperoni pizza. Wyatt held an identical plate. They sat side by side in chairs on the backyard deck. Neither had touched their food or said a word since Drew picked him up from the Pierces’. He didn’t know what to say. His anger had dissipated. Confusion had taken its place.
He was used to running these situations by Lauren to find out what to do. But this time he was on his own. He couldn’t ask her how to handle the aftermath of Wyatt sneaking out. Not now. Not after all he’d said to her earlier.
He’d pushed her too far.
Right when he’d needed her the most.
He loved her, and this was his punishment for all the things he’d done wrong over the years. He’d fallen in love with beautiful-inside-and-out Lauren Pierce, and she was leaving.
And his promise?
Might be the one promise he shouldn’t or couldn’t keep. He’d told her he’d always be there for her, that nothing she did could ever push him away, but he wasn’t what she needed. He took and took, and what did he give back?
He’d pressed her into a babysitting job she didn’t want to take. Today, he’d saddled her with a tense situation beyond her control. Why hadn’t he taken a leave of absence after the People magazine article came out? He’d seen the signs in Wyatt, too. The secrets. The attitude. And he’d ignored them, carrying on as if nothing was wrong. It had been easier than facing the truth.
“Uncle Drew?” Wyatt still hadn’t touched his pizza. His eyes darted back and forth like a scared rabbit’s.
“What, Wyatt?”
“What’s going to happen now? Are you going to send me away?”
Send him away? Why would the kid ever think that?
“No. I would never send you away.”
“You promise?”
Drew waved his fingers between Wyatt’s eyes and his own. “You and I are family. There’s nothing you can do to make me send you away. Got it?”
“It’s just—”
“I know. You feel bad. You should feel bad. That’s your conscience telling you that you messed up. But God forgives all sins—so pray for forgiveness and move on. Don’t think it means you aren’t going to have consequences, though.”
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Uncle Drew.” He hiccupped, and sobs shook his slim body.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Drew put his arm around his shoulders. “I forgive you. I did a lot of dumb stuff when I was your age.”
Wyatt wiped his eyes, and Drew gestured for him to stand. He set Wyatt on his lap, not caring if he was too old. “The important thing is you learn from your mistakes.”
“You made mistakes?”
“I did. Still do.” He held Wyatt tightly.
“Like what?”
“Oh, all kinds of things. Mostly little things I knew better than to do. You know, like cutting in line, cheating on a test, being mean to the captain of the cheerleading squad. I learned the hard way to do the right thing, though, and you will, too. Later on, we’re going to sit down and hash out some rules.”
“Okay.”
“But first I want you to tell me why you snuck around to go play football. Do you want to play that badly?”
Wyatt stiffened, then exhaled. “Some of my friends think it’s cool Dad played football. They told me they wanted me to be on their football team. I told them no, but they kept asking, and when I didn’t say yes, they stopped talking to me.”
“It is cool your dad played pro football. But you’re cool, too. You don’t need a superstar father to be someone worth hanging out with.”
“After the magazine came out, one of them said I couldn’t play because my dad was a jailbird.”
Drew shifted his jaw. Why were kids so cruel?
“And I told him I could do whatever I wanted.”
“So you did.” Wyatt’s actions made more sense now that Drew knew the backstory.
Wyatt nodded. “I miss Dad.”
“I do, too.”
“Uncle Drew, can I tell you something, and will you promise not to get mad?”
He hated promises like that, but he nodded.
“I used to think Dad had to go after Len, but I don’t think he had to at all. What about me? Why didn’t he think about me?” He covered his face with his hands and cried. Drew rubbed his back, emotions pressing against his chest. This was one promise easy to keep.
“That’s normal, buddy. I’m mad at him, too. I kept excusing him, telling myself what a great friend he’s been—and he is a good friend, my best friend—but I didn’t want to admit how much I miss him. How I wish he would have thought about you and me before he did it.”
“Me, too.”
“I think we need to forgive him. Both of us. He’s a good man. He’s still your dad. Still my best friend. He made a mistake, and he knows it. We’re going to be okay until he gets out.”
He lifted his head, his eyes swimming in tears. “I want to visit him again.”
“It will be a little easier next time. We’ll be ready for the pat down.” Drew grinned and pretended to pat Wyatt’s sides. He laughed. “And, listen, if you really, truly want to play football, I will talk to your dad about it.”
Wyatt twisted his lips, considering. “I think I want to try soccer with Hunter.”
“I’ll sign you up tomorrow.”
Wyatt hopped off his lap and returned to his seat. He took a big bite of his slice. After he’d chewed it, he said, “I shouldn’t have gone today. I’m sorry. Think Lauren will forgive me?”
“She’s just glad you’re okay. But you still need to apologize to her. No bike riding unless it’s with me, and I’m taking your iPod for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” he wailed.
“Want to make it three?”
Wyatt’s lips lifted into a shy smile. “Two’s fair.”
They ate their pizza in the peace of the summer night. Maybe he wasn’t so bad at raising Wyatt. Maybe he didn’t need anyone’s help.
He might not need it, but he wanted it. Lauren made everything easier. She was the part of him that had been missing his whole life.
And he’d blown it.
* * *
Lauren unlocked her apartment after leaving her parents’ house and switched on the lights. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck. She idly browsed the stack of mail in her hands as she kicked the door shut behind her. Catalog, bill, advertising postcard. Tempted to dump it all in the trash, she moved the bill to the top of the pile and almost missed the letter underneath.
Treyvon.
Her breathing hitched. She stared at the plain white envelope for a long time. Then she went to the couch, curled her legs underneath her body and opened it. Unfolding the sheet, she paused. Lord, whatever this letter contains, help me. Just help me read it.
Neat handwriting and meticulous margins greeted her. Treyvon’s teacher hadn’t been kidding when she said he was a good student.
Miss Pierce,
I got your letter. If I would have gotten it a week earlier, I would have wadded it up and thrown it in the trash, but things happened I can’t explain. You say you believe in God. I did, too, but after Jay died, I stopped believing. I had nothing left to live for.
Two days before your letter came, a pastor made his weekly visit. I ignored that guy. God ignored me all my life. But something happened this time. The words the pastor said broke through. I finally understood the difference between believing there was a God and trusting in Jesus as my Savior. You probably think I’m crazy. Maybe I am. Anyway, after talking to the pastor, I prayed for a reason not to give up. When I opened your letter, I was sure you were going to tell me I was stupid and killed Jay. I know I’m the reason he died. He was trying to stop me. They told me they’d kill him if I didn’t rob the store, but they killed him anyhow. I’ll always live with that.
I was scared to open your letter, but hearing about the stuff you went through gave me hope. Thank you for writing. I hope you do it again.
Treyvon Smith
She folded the letter and slipped it back inside the envelope, pondering his words.
She’d poured her heart into the one she’d sent him. Told him about feeling unwanted. Shuffled off from home to home. Pulling the knife on that kid. How she still struggled to know her place in the world. She’d told him she wanted him to know he wasn’t alone. That she cared about him. She’d asked him for forgiveness, for not helping them in time.
There were no coincidences. Three weeks ago she wouldn’t have written the letter. She would have clung to her guilt, her need to blame Treyvon to assuage that guilt and her self-pity about the situation. She would not have reached out to him.
Three weeks ago, if she would have reached out to him, he would have thrown her letter in the trash, and she would have assumed he blamed her, never to write him again.
God, You worked in my heart at just the right time. And You worked in Treyvon’s heart at the right time. You sent the pastor when Treyvon was ready to hear the words. Oh, God, You truly are awesome! How did You take a preppy girl from sleepy Lake Endwell and an impoverished teen from a gang area and unite us in spirit? How did You change my heart? How did You change his?
The pastor. The Bible. Prayer. Her parents. Drew. All worked together to begin healing them.
Her mom had said something she’d been trying to ignore, but it grew louder in her mind until it drowned out her other thoughts.
God didn’t put you on earth to save every soul you come into contact with. He’s in the saving business. Let Him do His job.
It really was a grace thing.
Tears sprung to her eyes, falling down her cheeks in little rivers. Thank You, Jesus!
The burden she’d been carrying vanished. She felt free. Free! She smiled through her tears. Wanted to jump in the air. Why not? She got to her feet, pumped her hands in the air and did a tuck. Laughed as she landed. Boy, she needed to stretch before she attempted that again.
She didn’t deserve forgiveness, this apartment, her health, her parents, Wyatt, Drew—anything! She never had deserved them. Never would! But God gave them to her because He loved her.
He loves me.
She sobered up at the word love. She loved Drew. And she’d thrown him out. Literally kicked him out of her apartment. She’d driven him away.
Out of fear.
Out of shame.
Out of guilt.
He’d made her a promise, and she’d told him she was letting him out of it. Had she driven him away for good?
She would have to apologize. Beg. Get on her knees if necessary. But she had to tell him how she felt—how she really felt.
Drew had to be mad at her. She didn’t want to tell him she loved him in front of Wyatt if things got heated. The kid didn’t need more drama in his overly dramatic life. And, frankly, she’d been so awful earlier, a simple apology and “By the way, I love you,” weren’t going to cut it.
How could she get Drew alone?
An idea formed. A wonderful, scary idea.
God, give me the courage.
* * *
Drew dangled his legs off the edge of the dock and into the warm lake. Stars blinked overhead, and a crescent moon reflected off the water. He’d tucked Wyatt in an hour ago, and after tidying the living room and trying to avoid the tangled web of thoughts in his head, he gave up and came out here. What was he going to do about Lauren?
He’d told Wyatt earlier he’d done a lot of dumb things as a kid. He’d done them as an adult, too. And God had forgiven every stupid thing he’d done.
Had Drew really done anything that dumb with Lauren? So he’d pushed her. He’d probably do the same again. It drove him nuts she was missing all the great parts of herself by focusing on what she perceived as her failures.
Kind of like I’ve done since I moved back here.
Lauren was kind, generous, strong, courageous and compassionate. She had a lot of great parts to focus on. Unlike him.
Says who?
Why was he still defining himself by his past?
He was doing a decent job raising Wyatt. His coworkers were accepting him. So he’d acted like a jerk in high school. He’d outgrown that. And big deal he’d gotten kicked out of college. He’d been blessed with a career doing something he loved.
Were he and Lauren doing the same thing? Clinging to regrets for no reason?
Her early years had done a number on her. He frowned, thinking of the things she’d told him. She probably hadn’t felt worth loving.
Did she still not feel worth loving?
Didn’t he feel the same? Was he worth loving?
Leaning back, he rested his hands on the deck. If he’d learned anything from his mistakes, he’d learned not to give up on himself.
He didn’t want to give up on this. On her, on them, on what they could be.
If he was really the man he thought he was, he wouldn’t give up because she told him to leave during an emotional meltdown. That would be like not showing up to those team meetings in college. Or getting halfway into a burning building and calling it quits.
He’d been trained to see things through.
She was worth fighting for. He wasn’t giving up on her. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not next year.
Whatever it took, however long it took, he would fight for her.