Randy lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The clock showed 3:14 a.m. Ever since Austin left, he’d been combing through his memories, reviewing the past, thinking about the future. And he was no longer sure why he’d convinced himself he couldn’t have a wife or kids. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Austin’s confession about wishing he’d been the one to find Dad had toppled a tower of absolutes in his mind, revealing them to be lies.
God, I was mad at You after Dad died. It didn’t seem fair that I lost my mom as a little kid and then my dad. I loved him so much, and I didn’t tell him. I didn’t show him. I was such a stupid punk. Always thinking of myself, begging him to take me to another fishing tournament, whining about having to help with the ranch chores.
Had he subconsciously thought he was being punished when he found his dad’s body? For not loving ranch work the way Austin did? For being a pain in Dad’s neck?
Randy swung his legs over the side of the bed. A few Bible passages had stuck in his mind over the years. Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.
He’d always lived the life of a Christian. But recently, his faith had gotten stronger. While he acknowledged his deep need for a Savior, he couldn’t deny he’d been leaning on his own understanding. He hadn’t allowed God to direct all his paths.
What if You get it wrong, God? What if I trust You with my future, and it all falls apart?
He cringed. What kind of faith assumed God would get it wrong?
Lord, I want guarantees. About not dying, about Hannah, about kids. But that’s not how You work. I’m scared. I’m scared to open my hands and give it all to You.
Randy crossed over to the window. The stars shone bright against the black sky.
Austin was right. The medications prevented heart attacks. If he stayed on them, he would have a good shot at living for a long time. He’d have no reason to end things with Hannah.
What about the kids?
Could he do that to her? Could he subject her to the fear and anxiety?
Could he subject himself to it?
She’d handle it fine. It’s you who can’t handle it.
Hannah deserved to have a man who would cherish her, protect her, give her children, be strong for her.
I’m not strong enough.
The unwanted images from long ago marched through his mind and, no matter how hard he pushed, they wouldn’t go away. His dad’s lifeless body. The terror gripping him the instant he realized Dad was gone. The finality of it all.
And then he saw other images, ones he’d forgotten.
Of him and Austin standing by each other at the grave, their hands touching for the briefest of moments. Of them cleaning out Dad’s room together in silence, fighting their emotions, doing what had to be done.
He could picture his father’s smiling face, the pride in it, when he held up one of Randy’s fishing trophies. He remembered his dad’s arms around him and the hearty clap on his back with the words, “You did it, son.”
Randy stared up at the moon, and the dread in his chest faded, replaced by something lighter, something more solid than the fear that had lived there for so many years.
All this time he’d thought he couldn’t handle another loss. He’d handled the last one so poorly.
But he and Austin had gotten through it as best as they could.
He was older now. No longer a selfish teen.
Finding his father hadn’t been a punishment. He might never know why he’d been the one to find Dad’s body, but God had been with him and Austin through it all.
A wave of exhaustion hit him, and he crawled back into bed.
Everyone endured hard times. Maybe it was time for him to embrace the good times, too, instead of avoiding them out of fear.
Hannah hugged one knee to her chest. She’d tried sleeping, but after tossing and turning and trying to push away her thoughts, she’d given up. So here she was on the couch, sipping a cup of steaming hot Earl Grey tea with her thoughts buzzing around her mind like unruly kindergartners.
She missed her furry roommates—Ned, especially. It didn’t matter that he liked Randy more than her. He was a comforting presence, an obedient dog, a help at all times. And he was a great role model for energetic Barley. That little butterball had wiggled his way into her heart the same way Ned had. The apartment felt quiet, lonely, empty without the dogs.
The same as her heart.
Lifting the mug to her lips, she barely tasted the tea. The dogs would be back on Sunday, but would they be enough? Or would her heart always be quiet, lonely and empty?
Sure, she missed them, but Randy was the one who’d filled that lonely spot inside her.
She hadn’t been expecting it. Hadn’t even noticed it happening, really. And now it was too late to do anything about it. If she would have heeded her own warnings last month, none of this would be happening.
She’d be training Barley and enjoying the summer without thinking about romance or marriage or children.
Her heart squeezed.
Why had she allowed herself to develop feelings for someone who’d closed himself off to all she had to offer?
Randy had nailed it earlier when he’d said she would worry about him. And if they had kids, she’d have to live with the daily anxiety of wondering if they inherited his heart condition.
Her personality had always been intense, even when it was in a good way. How many times had she been told she smiled too much? That she was too happy? What was she supposed to do? Frown all the time? Growl at people?
At every job she’d had, at least one coworker had complained that she worked too hard. As if her giving it her all was a bad thing.
Mom had made Hannah believe, for a second at least, that her personality was a good thing.
But now? She wasn’t so sure.
When she’d gotten home from her parents’ house earlier, she’d taken pages of notes on Randy’s condition. Looked into every treatment. She’d been tempted to call him or even text him to find out if he had any of the symptoms listed besides the ones he’d told her about.
Randy was correct. Worrying about him went hand in hand with loving him. She’d fuss over him. She’d probably smother him with her need to fix it—to fix him.
Maybe that was why he’d kept it from her. He didn’t want people weighing in on his personal life. And he might be pushing her away because he feared she’d pressure him to change. His habits. His lifestyle.
If he decided not to take the medications—if he simply lived his life—would she be able to accept it? Or was her love for him contingent on him doing what she felt was necessary for him to stay healthy?
Setting the mug on the end table, she closed her eyes. God, I know Randy staying on his meds is the best course. But what if he doesn’t? It’s not loving to just sit back and watch someone make bad choices. If he stops treatment, he could die.
Even with treatment, he could die.
Abruptly, she stood. Why was she being so morbid?
Because this is the reality of being with Randy. Not knowing what the future holds. Not having any control.
She sat on the couch again.
That’s the real issue, isn’t it God? I want to be in control.
With her forehead in her hands, she tried to clear her head, but the thoughts kept coming, kept winding her up until her muscles roped into tight knots.
She wasn’t in control. Not with Randy. Not with the dogs. Not with anything, really.
Randy had to make the choices that made sense to him, even if she didn’t like them. They weren’t hers to make.
Okay, Lord, I want to do it Your way. You’re going to have to show me how. I have no idea how to give up control with anything, let alone Randy’s health.
She slowly relaxed. Her mom’s words from earlier came back. Maybe Randy needs someone who thinks too much, cares too much, feels too much.
Was Mom right?
The past month rushed back. Laughing with Randy, sitting on his beautiful back deck watching the world go by, talking about their childhood memories, relying on each other.
She didn’t feel too intense when she was with him. In fact, he brought out her low-key side, and she hadn’t even realized she had one of those.
You’re you for a reason.
Randy was Randy for a reason, too. Heart condition and all.
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. Lord, we’re two halves of a whole, aren’t we? I need him, and he needs me. His disease is scary. I’m afraid he’ll die. I’m scared he won’t want kids, and I’m also scared that if he does want kids, they’ll have the disease, too. I’m afraid he won’t take his medication and will resent me for badgering him about it. A life with Randy would be filled with uncertainty. But Mom said You’re strong when I’m weak, and I know it’s true. I know it because it says so right in the Bible. And You’ve gotten me through tough times before.
Her ex was correct. She was too much.
She curved her lips into a smile.
And she had too much love to throw away on someone who didn’t recognize what a blessing she was.
Randy needed her. Now she just had to convince him to accept it.