After the meeting with Karl and the lawyer, Kellie went to lunch with her folks in Traverse City near the hotel where they’d checked in for a few days. And then she stopped at the school where she’d soon work. The principal had been pleased by her proactive visit and had directed Kellie to the office she’d occupy as well as case files she should get acquainted with before her start date. Kellie copied the files of the kids who needed the most attention and took them home to study.
She needed to get a handle on what to expect after Thanksgiving. She needed something to keep her mind occupied and off her family.
It was late by the time Kellie made it to Dorrie’s new house. Entering through the side door into the laundry room that lacked only the hookup of a washer and dryer to be complete, Kellie stepped into the kitchen where everyone ate dinner.
“Perfect timing.” Ryan stood and offered his chair. “Have a seat.”
Kellie feasted on the sight of him. Wearing his usual plaid flannel over a thermal undershirt, Ryan might as well be the poster child of dependability. Strong and stable.
But for how long?
Making her way toward him, she nearly stumbled when she spotted her parents. She glanced at Dorrie. Her sister-in-law’s eyes looked red-rimmed like she’d been crying. No doubt her folks had filled Dorrie in on what Karl faced.
“You okay?” Ryan touched her shoulder and squeezed.
“Yeah, sure.” Kellie had switched into autopilot. She gathered up today’s hurt and tucked it away like she’d done a dozen times before. “I just came from the school where I’ll be working. I have a lot of paperwork to get familiar with.”
Ryan looked at her closely. “I’m sorry about Karl.”
Kellie shrugged and glanced away. “Me, too.”
“Have you eaten? I’m grabbing seconds. Can I get a plate for you?”
Kellie didn’t have much of an appetite, and she wasn’t up for talking about her day, acting like everything was normal when it wasn’t. Didn’t matter that she was the one who’d already set this tone. “No, thanks. I had a late lunch. I think I’ll look around a bit while you finish.”
Ryan narrowed his gaze. “You sure?”
She nodded and walked away through the house and ended up in the girls’ bedroom. Kellie leaned against the window seat that Ryan had made. She stared out the window at the bare cherry trees across the street and marveled at how far the house had come because of how much Ryan had done. He was a good man. Dorrie and the girls would move in before the holidays. Talk about the perfect Christmas present. All because of Ryan’s commitment to hard work.
“Pretty house.” Her mom stood beside her.
“Yeah.” She rubbed her arms. It felt chilly inside even with the heat on.
“Karl said he’d worked on it a little bit with your boyfriend. We met Ryan when we came in. He’s very nice, Kellie.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, Mom.” A tug of regret pierced her. He could be, if she’d let him. “He’s a friend. Just a friend.”
“Karl spoke highly of him.”
She wondered if her brother still thought that after learning Ryan had called the sheriff. But then Ryan was trying to protect Dorrie and the girls. And her. Surely, Karl understood that. “When did Karl say all this?”
“Today, after you’d left.”
“Oh.” Warm surprise spread through her. And then it turned cold. She still worried over her brother’s opinion.
“Don’t you care for Ryan?”
“Mom, this really isn’t the place.” Kellie’s throat threatened to close up.
Care was an understatement for the feelings that spread deep and wide like an open chasm in front of her. If she took another step forward, she’d be swallowed whole and there’d be no turning back. No protection.
“Why don’t you and Dorrie and the girls come home for Thanksgiving. Get away from here for a couple of days.” Her mom’s eyes pleaded.
Today had been hard on her mom, too. Seeing Karl and knowing where he was headed had to break a mother’s heart. It still broke Dorrie’s. And it broke hers, too. “Yeah, maybe.”
Her mom’s eyes clouded with tears as she reached out and squeezed Kellie’s arm. “Let me know. I better get your father and go before he eats all the desserts.”
Kellie nodded, feeling her eyes sting. She remained where she was though, unable to move as she listened to her nieces say their goodbyes to Grandma and Grandpa. The girls asked if they’d come back again tomorrow, and Kellie’s heart pinched a little tighter. There’d been sweet times in her family, so why had it gone so wrong?
Kellie heard sounds of the volunteer workers getting back to work, but she couldn’t make her feet move or pull her gaze away from the window as she watched her parents climb into their car. They looked so weary and defeated.
All because of Karl. So much heartache and moments lost because of an addiction.
“Hey. Are you okay?” Ryan’s voice sounded soft and deep behind her.
She shrugged. “I don’t think I can work tonight.”
“I imagine not. Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?”
Kellie shook her head. “No.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “Believe it or not, I’m a good listener.”
Kellie battled the temptation to lean into him and pour her heart out. Something about Ryan’s embrace made her feel safe, like the rest of world couldn’t touch her. But she’d followed that kind of false security too many times.
She looked into his eyes instead. “I better tell Dorrie I’m leaving.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’ll let her know. Come on, I’ll walk you out.” He took her hand, the one he’d so gently bandaged. Her palm had pretty much healed.
She followed him outside, grabbing her coat and shrugging into it along the way.
At her car, Ryan gently pulled her into his arms.
And she crumpled inside. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” He kissed the top of her head.
“For putting you through this with Karl.”
He squeezed a little tighter. “I offered. It was my decision to make. I’m only sorry I was the one to turn him in.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
He stepped back and tipped up her chin. His eyes looked guarded and unsure. “Does that change things between us?”
Kellie could jump on that excuse, but it’d be false. Ryan had done the right thing. She needed to do the same, so she took a deep breath. “Look, Ryan...”
“That doesn’t sound too good.” His half smile made her heart pinch with regret.
She pulled away from him. “There can’t be an us. At least, not for me.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Why?”
How did a person explain what it was like to take a trip to jail to see a loved one? “I just can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Substance abuse.” She felt Ryan’s stance change.
His body tightened in invasive defense. And why wouldn’t he feel invaded? She’d taken an inventory of him and called him out, maybe unfairly, when he was trying to get it right. He’d been honest in group, and he’d been honest with her, too, but Kellie couldn’t afford any more tries that ended in failure.
“I’m not your brother. I’m not messing around with alcohol because I know where it could lead. I won’t go there. Ever.”
She looked into his eyes and read genuine conviction. He had good intentions but no track record. “It’s too much for me to risk.”
“I’m not letting you go—”
“This isn’t going to work. I can’t make it work.” Her voice went a little shrill.
“Says who? We haven’t even gone on a date yet, and you’re throwing in the towel? Give us a chance. Give me a chance to prove I’m someone you can trust.” He took her hand. “Trust me, Kellie.”
She wanted to, but how? Trust was the hardest gift to give. Her eyes burned and panic set in as she sought for an excuse to turn him away. “You’re not even over your dead fiancée.”
Anger flashed in his eyes at the cheap shot. “And you’re afraid of something you can’t control.”
Like a punch to stomach, Kellie gasped. “That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not, but Kellie, you’re so afraid of what I might do that you’re not seeing straight. We’re building something beautiful here, why throw it away?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got to go. It’s cold out here and you’re not wearing a coat.”
“I don’t care about a coat,” he snapped and stepped closer. “When Sara died in my arms, she said something that has haunted me for three years.”
Kellie closed her eyes. She wanted to cover her ears from hearing. She didn’t want to hurt anymore but couldn’t walk away. Couldn’t help but ask, “What...what did she say?”
He touched a lock of her hair and twined it around his finger like he’d done so many times before, before looking into her eyes. “She said, Don’t die on me, Ryan. All this time, I thought she was begging me not to let her die. I had let her down and that ate away at me no matter what I did. But Sunday, in church, I realized the truth for the first time. Sara wasn’t afraid of death. She knew where she was going. Her fear was for me. Sara didn’t want me to stop living. And I had, Kel. I really had died inside.”
Kellie sniffed as tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Look at me,” he said.
She did.
“You helped bring me back to life. Sara will always be part of who I am, but you’re part of who I want to be. Don’t you see? I want you in my life. I want to build a life with you. Sure, I’ll let you down, but not in the ways you fear. The consequences of that slippery slope are far too steep.”
His words sounded so sweet and full of promise, like a tantalizing balm to heal her wounds. But the image of meeting him at LightHouse Center flashed through her mind. The reality of how often good men and women repeated their mistakes crushed her hope. How could she be sure he wouldn’t end up back in that place or worse?
“What good is this life if we don’t risk loving each other? Don’t let this die. Not now, not like this.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Open your heart and trust in the God we try to serve.”
God. The only one who wouldn’t let her down, but did she really believe that? Or was it her own ability to keep her heart safe that she relied upon? No matter how much she trusted God, Ryan had the power to shatter her world.
Kellie looked at him, so solid and real. A good man. Could God keep him from drinking? Not if Ryan chose otherwise.
Snow started falling from the sky. Beautiful fat flakes of white promising to cover the ground with its purity. But even snow eventually got dirty.
She reached up and caressed his face, while the weight of what she might be throwing away suffocated her. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” His eyes clouded over with sadness and regret.
“Goodbye, Ryan.” Kellie climbed in behind the wheel and started her car before she changed her mind.
* * *
Ryan watched her drive away. He couldn’t blame her for how afraid she felt. Standing alone in the cold, he prayed that somehow God would make her believe him. Believe in him enough to come back. He ran his hand through hair that was wet from the gigantic snowflakes and returned to the house.
He spotted Dorrie’s girls with their noses pressed against the window watching the snow silently blanket the ground. Several volunteers chatted about how good the snow would be for the opening of deer season later that week. He’d lose a lot of help then, but they were close to being done with the house anyway. He’d help the builder in charge do the finishing touches before ordering the occupancy permit and then he’d be done, too.
His community service hours had already been satisfied, and once he finished his treatment, the charges against him would be dropped and the stain of this entire incident would be sponged away. Or would it? What if Kellie was right and he couldn’t keep that promise he’d made?
A touch on his shoulder startled him.
“Where’s Kellie?” Dorrie asked.
He cleared his throat. “She went home.”
Dorrie’s eyes narrowed. “And you look like you lost your last friend. Did you two have a fight?”
Ryan shook his head. “She’s taking what happened to Karl pretty hard.”
“She’s not blaming you for—”
“No.” Ryan shrugged. “She’s scared, Dorrie. Too scared to take a chance with me.”
Dorrie nodded, her expression soft with understanding. “It’s not easy for her to be vulnerable. She’s fought against that her whole life.”
“But she can trust me.” God, please help me to make it so.
“Where we’ve been, trust doesn’t come easy.” Dorrie spoke from experience.
From what Ryan had gathered, she’d tried with Karl and had her heart crushed one too many times. But he wasn’t Karl. He knew what he had. What he’d been blessed with. Would Kellie ever love him enough to overcome her fears? That was a question only she could answer. And he could do nothing but wait it out.
It was late by the time Ryan left Dorrie’s for home. His heart felt heavy and it hurt. Working on Dorrie’s house reminded him of time spent with Kellie. Everywhere he looked, Kellie was there. That heaviness settled inside his soul and made him feel empty and lost all over again.
He spotted the mini-mart on the corner and part of him wanted to stop and grab a six-pack. His thoughts justified the need to relax, but he knew better. He wanted to forget his feelings again, numb them, even if for a night. But he’d need more than a six-pack to do that.
He kept driving instead. And he prayed, like he’d never done before.
After pulling into his driveway, Ryan stared at his darkened house on the lake with bitter resolve. He wanted to curse and yell but knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. He was tired of being alone. He wanted to be married. He wanted a wife. He wanted Kellie.
Once inside, he flicked on the light switch and glanced at his cell phone for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping for a message from Kellie. Nothing. He slouched into his chair and clicked on the TV, not bothering to build a fire. That trip to the mini-mart called out to him again, only a little stronger this time.
Ryan closed his eyes. He had to face the fact that the reason he’d gotten drunk that night at the party was because the effect of having a few beers every night had worn off. They hadn’t quite eased the pain then, and they wouldn’t now. And if he got drunk again, could he ever face what he’d become? He’d lose the battle, and that would cost him any chance he might still have with Kellie.
Oh, but the emptiness remained like a bottomless pit, despite what his brain told him. What he knew inside as true. He checked his watch. Too late to call his counselor at LightHouse Center. He’d see him tomorrow at group anyway.
Restlessness coursed through him, so he got up and looked out the window. Snow still fell, blanketing the ground in patches of white. They’d have a good couple of inches or more by morning. He could split wood, but it was too late and quiet; he didn’t want the sound to echo and bother his neighbors.
“God,” he breathed. “I hate this hollow feeling. Please take the craving from me. Please, God.”
He sat back down and hung his head in his hands for a few moments before he picked up his cell phone and scrolled the contact list. Without hesitating, he hit the button to connect and waited.
“Hello?” Sinclair’s voice sounded sleepy.
“Sin?” Ryan’s voice cracked.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m struggling here. Talk to me for a bit, will you?”
After the briefest of pauses, his brother said, “Hang tight. I’ll be right over.”
Ryan set down his phone, and his body went limp. This is what Kellie was afraid of. What she’d always fear with him. He couldn’t say that he blamed her, because he didn’t have it conquered like he thought. And that scared him, too.
* * *
“Pass the gravy, please?” Kellie’s mom smiled.
Kellie handed it over after dousing her mound of mashed potatoes. Thanksgiving dinner was her favorite meal, but she couldn’t rouse the appetite to eat much of it.
It’d been over a week since that awful conversation with Ryan. He hadn’t called her, hadn’t shown up under her window with a handful of pebbles like she’d hoped. Her resolve might have caved if he had. Didn’t he realize that?
“When can we have pie?” Gracie asked.
She grinned at her niece. Despite her loss of appetite, Kellie might make an exception for a piece of cherry crumb pie. “That’s up to your mom and Grandma.”
The girls had loved helping make pies the day before. All five Cavanaugh women had worked side by side in the kitchen, and Kellie had to admit the smell of home and holidays had lightened her mood. But she hadn’t once forgotten the ache she carried inside, like a cast-iron anchor that was too big for the boat and dragged her down.
“After we eat dinner,” Dorrie said.
Hannah played with her food. “Will Karl have Thanksgiving dinner in jail?”
A hush settled over the festive table that had been decorated with a pair of pilgrim candlesticks on either side of a rust-colored floral centerpiece of mums and carnations.
Kellie glanced at her parents. Sadness lurked in their eyes, and both of their shoulders seemed to slump. It wasn’t hard to imagine Karl all alone today.
“I’m sure he’ll have something good to eat,” Dorrie said with a voice more cheerful than she probably felt. “Now finish up your plate, Hannah.”
“Excuse me. I forgot something in the kitchen.” Kellie’s mom got up from the table.
Kellie looked at her dad. Would he go after her? When he didn’t, she got up instead. Stepping softly into the kitchen, she spotted her mother at the sink holding a dishtowel to her face. “Mom?”
“I’m sorry,” her mom sniffed.
“It’s okay. This is hard on everyone.”
Her mother turned to face her. Her eyes watered and her nose looked red. “If only I would have done things differently.”
Kellie cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“We left you kids alone too much. And when we were home, we were preoccupied with that stupid business.” Her mother pointed toward the dining room. “He still hides at the office far too much.”
Kellie had never heard her mother speak poorly of their real estate business before. Despite the long hours and weekends their business demanded, it had always been the source of their pride. Their passion. Their kids, not so much. “I thought you loved what you did.”
Her mom sighed. “I did. I do. But we were too wrapped up in it and we forgot what was truly important. We forgot about our kids. Karl suffered, and I think you did, too.”
Kellie’s eyes went wide. When had her mother come to this realization? “Why say all this now?”
Her mother shrugged. “Because I’m seeing a counselor. I’m trying to come to terms with what I did or didn’t do to make Karl turn out like he has.”
Kellie’s heart twisted. “Oh Mom, Karl made his own choices.”
“And what about you? You’re so distant and in control. Kellie, I fear you’re turning into stone. Strong, but cold.”
She took a step back, shaken by her mother’s perception. “I’m okay.”
“Are you? Are you really?” Her mother gave her a sad look before grabbing the dish of cranberry sauce that had been left behind.
Kellie followed her back to the dining room table, contemplating her mother’s words, stunned by their truth. Was it so bad to be in control? Exchanging a look with Dorrie, Kellie refused to answer and got back to the business of eating what she could.
They finished their meal in silence, and then cleanup wasn’t much better. There was only so much small talk to be said. Pie was served in the living room while a fire roared in the hearth and her father watched the Lions play football on TV. Picking at her piece of cherry crumb pie, Kellie kept thinking about Ryan. His family grew cherries. She’d never been to their farm but could easily imagine how beautiful it’d look when the cherry blossoms were in bloom. Ryan had promised to show her.
Too many thoughts turned to him.
When she finally slid into the bed she shared with Dorrie, Kellie stared at the walls of her old room plastered with her high school cheerleading memorabilia and girlish decorations. She’d saved a meaningless corsage she’d worn to her senior prom. What a joke that had been. Her date hadn’t cared about her, and yet Kellie had clung to misplaced hope that he would.
Kellie sighed, drained.
“Ryan’s nothing like Karl, you know.” Dorrie fluffed her pillow.
“I know.”
“I’m not so sure you do. Think about it. Ryan’s had what, one girlfriend in high school, and he would have married her if she hadn’t died. If that isn’t proof of commitment, I don’t know what is.”
“This isn’t about his commitment to me.”
“Isn’t it? Don’t you think he’ll be just as committed to his recovery?”
Kellie’s eyes went wide. Ryan had said that he got done what he set out to do. Dorrie’s house was certainly proof of that.
“He told me about why he needed community service hours. He also told me that he never had issues with drinking until recently. Don’t you see? Ryan faced his problem. Karl never faced anything about himself. It was always everyone else’s fault—your parents, his coaches, his boss. He was irresponsible and lacked commitment from the get-go only I was too stupid to see it.”
Kellie settled her head deeper into her pillow, while she weighed Dorrie’s words. “But what if—”
“Life’s full of what-ifs. You’re a counselor now. Do you believe all that you learned is false?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why can’t you believe in Ryan? He’s gotten help and is putting into practice what he’s learned. He loves you, Kellie, what more do you want?”
“A guarantee.” The words slipped out, and hearing them, Kellie realized how crazy they sounded.
“Well, good luck. There isn’t anyone who can give you that. Even God doesn’t guarantee that life will be easy. He only promises never to leave us.”
Kellie opened her mouth and then shut it. She didn’t have an argument for that one. She pulled the covers up under her chin and felt the old scars on her arms. Maybe she’d turned to stone because a hunk of rock didn’t need to bleed. Didn’t need to feel. Didn’t need to believe.
That Bible verse in Corinthians came back to taunt her—Love never gives up, never loses faith...
She hadn’t even given Ryan a chance. She’d condemned him to failure because she was scared.
“He’s a good man, Kellie.” Dorrie gave her shoulder a squeeze before rolling over.
“I know.” But did she really?
Kellie lay awake long after Dorrie had dozed off. Listening to her sister-in-law’s even breathing, she watched the moon shadows dance across her ceiling. Dorrie was right. She didn’t believe in Ryan. What did that say about her as a counselor, and even worse, as a Christian?
Anything she had to say to these kids she’d soon meet and serve would be nothing but empty words if she didn’t believe people could face their weaknesses and change. Didn’t her mother prove that was possible tonight? Her mom had finally faced their past and was trying to deal with it.
Kellie had no right to give kids advice she couldn’t even follow. She was a sham—a stone who’d let her heart grow cold with fear. She might as well not show up for work Monday morning.
Kellie closed her eyes and prayed. “Please Lord, help me to believe.”