5

 

The Christmas decorations on the drive home brought memories of the holiday seasons she’d spent in New Hampshire. The pine scent from the tree farm. The spiced apple cider. The warm cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning.

It had just been Sadie and her mother for twenty years, but Mom had always made it special. Last year, Sadie had gone home for Christmas, but she couldn’t this year. Her funds wouldn’t allow it, even if she was willing to take the time.

With all Mom’s friends, she wouldn’t be lonely. Mom could always come to Staten Island if she wanted to see Sadie. That thought made her feel slightly better.

Once she and Max had gotten off the topic of her father and her home, they’d had a nice meal. Maybe he didn’t agree with her desire to keep the house, but he seemed to accept it. As he drove south toward the tunnel, the festive lights faded, the signs of the hurricane increased, and a heaviness filled her that had nothing to do with the rich meal she’d just eaten.

Back on Staten Island, Sadie resisted the urge to look back at the glittering city. Instead, she focused on the dark streets, roads lined with rubble, and damaged buildings. They waited at a stoplight while three dark military vehicles passed in front of them. Yes, it felt like a war zone, and she was returning to it. Voluntarily.

“Are you OK?”

They were the first words Max had spoken since they’d gotten in the car.

Sadie forced a smile. “Sure. I’m fine.”

“You know, I really admire what you’re doing, trying to find your father. It’s one of the things I really”—a slight pause—“love about you.”

Love?

“You’ve always been the most determined—”

“Stubborn, you mean.”

He grinned. “Maybe, a little. But also persistent. I remember how you used to insist that we get together to pray for Josie’s healing, every day. And then, when she was back in the hospital, you and I would pray. And you never gave up, all those years.”

“And she died, anyway.”

“But I remember thinking that we’d done all we could. If we hadn’t prayed so hard for her, I would always have wondered if our prayers might’ve made a difference. But we did pray. As awful as her death was, I felt at peace when she died, knowing I’d done all I could have. Knowing that she was no longer in pain.”

“Peace,” she whispered. Had she ever felt at peace about Josie’s death? About anything in her life? Everything seemed like a battle, and she was always on the losing side.

“And the way you’re searching for your father, your determination, your passion. It’s really amazing. Most people would hire a PI, do some Internet searches, and then be done with it. Not you. When you do something, you’re always all-in.”

“Rational or not, I know. Not like you. You’re so logical, so...linear.”

“Os and ones, right? Input and output?”

“In a good way. And you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. Beneath all that logic, Max, you’re generous and loving. Selfless. I just see what I want and...” She let her words trail off, not knowing how to express her thoughts.

After a pause, Max glanced at her. “There’s nothing wrong with passion. It’s a beautiful feature.” He’d gentled his voice, and his words covered her like a light snowfall. The way he described her…passion? Is that what drove her? Or was she just determined to have her way?

He stopped at a red light and turned to her. “So, will you tell me what happened?”

“What happened...when?”

“After Josie died.”

Her stomach filled with acid. “What do you mean?”

“Sadie, we saw each other almost every day, prayed together all the time for years. And then, after the funeral”—he snapped his fingers—“that was it. I didn’t see you for the rest of the summer.”

Guilt squeezed her like a coat three sizes too small. He’d deserved so much better from her.

“So I started thinking,” he said, “maybe you and I weren’t really friends, after all. Maybe all we had in common was Josie, and once she died, you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore.”

“You were my best friend. I never had another friend like you.”

“Well, I lost her, too, Sadie. And then, I lost you.”

Her throat ached as she fought tears. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” He blew out a breath. “OK. Maybe I am, just a little.”

“I deserve it.”

“I know you were grieving in your own way. It just hurt to lose both of you. I’d call your house. At first, your mom would make up excuses. After awhile, she just sounded sad. I didn’t know what to do, how to reach you. And then, school started, and you said hi to me, just like you would any other person. Like we hadn’t been best friends. And then, you took off with your new friends and barely ever spoke to me again.” The light turned green, and Max pulled forward, eyes focused ahead. His mouth was closed, his lips turned down at the corners.

“I was so sure God was going to heal her.”

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I know.”

“It was more than that. I thought, once we started praying about it, that God would save her. And if God could save her...” The lump in her throat thickened until it hurt to talk.

“What?”

“Then He could save me, too.” Her voice was all squeaky now. Why did she have to cry? He stole a quick glance, and she looked at her lap to avoid his gaze.

“Save you from what?”

She kept her gaze focused on her knees. “Max, my dad’s schizophrenic. It’s hereditary.”

A few heartbeats of silence passed, enough to know he was re-evaluating his feelings. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Dad has it. His father had it, too. My grandfather committed suicide before I was born. When Josie died, it all just seemed so...futile. Like I was on this course, and I would be just like him. I’d see pictures of homeless people, and I’d think, that’ll be me. Just a few more years.”

He reached across the car and took her hand. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I don’t know.” The tears began to fall. “I should’ve, before Josie died, and then we could’ve prayed about it together. I was embarrassed, I think. And then, after, I knew you’d try to tell me that God loved me, that He would protect me, and I didn’t want to hear it. I no longer believed it.” She watched him, trying to figure out what he was thinking as he nodded slowly.

“But you believe now?” he asked.

“Now, I know I need God. But I also need my father.”

Max stopped in front of Marjorie’s house and shifted into park. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad I finally understand.”

She sniffed, nodded, and tried to stop the tears. “What I did was so selfish. I just couldn’t face you. I’d been so sure God would heal her. Then I thought, maybe I really was crazy, to put my faith so wholeheartedly in God.”

“Trusting God isn’t crazy, Sadie. But you have to see that His plans aren’t your plans.”

“Yeah.” She looked at the front door, thinking how little she wanted to go inside. She wanted to stay with Max, where she felt warm and loved. He opened his car door, so she opened hers, too, and stepped onto the sidewalk.

When he joined her, he was frowning.

“What?”

“You realize this was a date, right?”

A tiny giggle escaped. Hysterics. Great. “I guess.”

“You should let your date open the car door for you.”

“Oh. I’ve never dated anyone that well-mannered.”

“What kinds of men have you been dating?”

She hitched her purse strap over her shoulder. “None, lately. And before that...doesn’t matter.”

He rested his hand on her lower back and led her to the door. “You deserve to be treated like a lady.”

She leaned close to him until her shoulder touched his side.

On the stoop, Max turned to her, his lips lifted in that crooked smile she loved.

She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“I feel like a teenager on a first date.”

She knew what he meant.

“What I said tonight...about my feelings—”

“Be careful, Max. Don’t say anything you’ll be sorry for later.”

“What do you mean?”

She tapped her index finger against her head. “Any day, I could lose my mind.”

He wrapped that errant finger in his hand. Then he took her other hand and lifted them both to his chest. “I don’t think so, and I don’t care, either way. It doesn’t change anything.”

She blinked twice, felt the tears stinging her eyes again. Before tonight, she’d only told two men about her father’s condition, both of whom she’d thought loved her. Both of them disappeared pretty fast after that. “It should.”

He kissed her gently. Slowly. Then he wrapped his arms around her back, pulled her closer, and deepened the kiss.

One part of her mind wanted to giggle. How weird that she was kissing Max. But the other part of her mind—or maybe that was her body—responded so completely, the humor fled. She slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders and leaned into him.

Too soon, he stopped and pulled her into a hug. “Sixteen years I’ve wanted to do that.”

She felt his breath in her hair and shivered, resting her head on his shoulder. “Was it worth the wait?”

“And then some.” He stepped back and studied her face. “Tomorrow’s a big day for you.”

That ever-present knot in her belly tightened when she thought of her meeting with the insurance adjuster. “I hope I get some good news.”

“Me, too. Let me know what happens. I’ll be praying for you.”

He kissed her on the cheek and walked back to his car, leaving her shivering and alone.

She watched until his rental’s taillights disappeared around the corner before pushing open the front door. Today had been a good day, the best in a very long time.

Maybe things were finally looking up.