Never Say Goodbye (11 page)

Scott paused, and Jess saw his Adam's apple bob convulsively. The stark pain on his face was a window to the torment his soul had endured, and her throat constricted with emotion as memories of that night came swirling back to her as well, out of the dark recesses of her mind to which she'd banished them.

Scott moved to a stool in the center of the stage and perched on the edge, resting one foot on a rung. He drew a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was slightly unsteady.

“For the next few minutes I'd like to tell you what
happened to me after that night. But I have to be honest with you. I didn't want to come here today. I'm not a man who has always been especially good at opening up to people and sharing my feelings. However, Reverend Young can be persuasive. He convinced me that maybe someone might be able to find in what I have to say a ray of hope that will give them the courage to carry on. And once he convinced me of that, I couldn't say no. Because I know how empty life can be without hope. So I'll give it my best.”

And for the next forty-five minutes he did exactly that. He spoke of the horrors of the accident, in which he escaped unscathed while his wife suffered a concussion and two people died, including his beloved Elizabeth. He spoke of the surreal cemetery scene, choking up as he talked about kneeling beside the small white coffin as his world crashed in around him. He spoke briefly of the trial, how he went through the motions numbly, still in a state of shock.

He spoke at length about prison…of the suffocating feeling that accompanied the loss of freedom…of the degradation of being treated like a number instead of a person…of the long, empty days marked by rigid, repetitive routine. He spoke in a ragged voice of the pain and anguish and grief that struck fiercely once the numbness wore off. And he spoke of the crushing guilt that squeezed the life from his soul. Of the aching void left in his heart after the death of his wife's love. Of the hopelessness and despair and emptiness that drove him to such depths of depression that at times he felt suicidal. Of how he would lie in his dark cell
at night, tears running down his face, praying for God to simply end his agony.

“I wanted to die,” Scott said, his voice choked and raw with emotion. “I'd lost my daughter. My wife. My freedom. My self-respect. My identity. I was as low as you could get. And that's when Reverend Young came into my life.”

He stood again and moved to the edge of the stage, closer to the audience, taking a moment to compose himself. “My faith had never been especially strong,” he continued. “Certainly not strong enough to withstand the nightmare my life had become. I couldn't fathom how a loving God would wreak such havoc on me and on the people I loved. I'd gone through a brief anger phase, but by the time I met Reverend Young I was at a point where I just didn't care anymore. About anything. So he had his work cut out for him. Because anger is actually a lot easier to deal with than apathy.

“He didn't give up, though. Week after week, sometimes twice a week, he'd show up. At first we didn't even talk about religion. But gradually he began to work that into the conversation. And one day he gave me this.” Scott reached for the well-thumbed Bible and held it up. “He had marked a passage he thought I might find helpful, and even though I told him I wasn't interested, he left the book with me. Since time hangs heavy on your hands in prison, I ended up paging through it one day simply out of desperation for something to do. And the passage he had marked seemed to speak directly to me.”

Scott opened the book and read. “‘Only in God be at rest, my soul, for from Him comes my hope.”'

He paused for a moment, then closed the book and looked out at the audience. “Reverend Young, in his wisdom, had pointed me to the two things I needed most desperately—rest and hope. Guilt and self-recrimination are terrible burdens that can eat away at you like a cancer and rob life of all peace and hope. But with Reverend Young's help, I eventually came to experience the healing power of God's forgiveness. To understand that He always stands ready to absolve us if we truly repent. And that He never deserts us. For as He told us, He is with us always, even to the end of time. And as He also promised, all things are possible with Him.

“I stand before you tonight as a living testament to the healing power of God's forgiveness and hope,” Scott said with quiet sincerity. “I didn't reach this place overnight. It was a long, hard struggle, and I'm sure there were times when Reverend Young was ready to give up on me.” He directed a brief smile toward the minister. “But I can tell you that the rewards are great for those who persevere, who seek the Lord with an open mind and open heart, and who are willing to put their trust in Him and listen to His words.

“When Reverend Young asked me to speak today, I told him that I wasn't sure I was the best choice. That I'd made a lot of mistakes and that I'm not where I want to be yet. I guess you could say my life is in a reconstruction phase at this point. When I left prison, I had two goals. One was to make faith the center of my life, and that has been easy. The other, however,
has been much more difficult. And that's to win back the love of my wife.”

As he paused to draw a deep breath, Jess suddenly felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of her own lungs.

“I realize that's an ambitious goal,” Scott continued. “But I'm working on it. I've put my trust in the Lord, and I'm following the advice in Proverbs, which tells us, ‘In his mind a man plans his course, but the Lord directs his steps.' Well, I know what my plan is. I love my wife with a passion and intensity that has grown rather than diminished through our years of separation, and I can't even imagine the rest of my life without her. So I trust that the Lord will guide me as I seek my goal.

“You know, a very wise man once told me that even on the coldest, darkest days of winter it's important to remember that spring always comes. I believe that with all my heart. And with the Lord's help, I have great faith that my life will once again bloom and bear fruit. Thank you.”

There was a moment of silence, and then the auditorium was filled with thunderous applause as the audience rose to its feet in a resounding ovation. Jess followed suit, reaching up to self-consciously brush away the tears that were streaming down her face. But when she glanced around, she realized that she wasn't alone in her reaction. With his humble manner, painfully honest revelations and inspiring message of hope, Scott had clearly touched many hearts in this room. Including hers.

But beyond that, Scott's talk had also surprised her.
Knowing how guarded he usually was when it came to talking about his feelings, she'd assumed that his presentation today would be a relatively straightforward account of his life in prison and a fairly sedate faith witness. Instead, he had spoken from the heart, exposing his deepest feelings and baring his soul to this room of strangers. Because of his willingness to share so openly, he'd connected with the audience at the deepest of levels, and in so doing had made every person in the room experience his pain and desolation in an almost tangible way. Likewise, his faith witness had been inspiring, offering hope that even the bleakest situation can be overcome through trust in the Lord.

Like everyone else in the audience, Jess had been deeply impressed and profoundly moved. But unlike them, she was suddenly afraid. Because if her previous encounters with Scott had shaken the foundations of the wall between them, tonight's revealing testimonial had knocked a gaping hole in it, opening a passage directly to her heart. And as the protective barrier she had erected between them crumbled, she felt increasingly exposed and vulnerable. It was risky business, this notion of reconnecting and forgiving, Jess realized, and she prayed that she had the strength to see it through.

When the applause at last died down and people once more took their seats, Reverend Young moved back to the podium. He paused to embrace Scott, and the warmth between the two men was unmistakable. Another first, Jess noted. Scott had always avoided
public displays of affection, but he seemed totally comfortable with them now.

As the minister began to speak, Jess knew it was time to leave. She didn't want to run the risk of encountering Scott until she'd had time to sort through her turbulent emotions. With a murmured apology, she edged past several people and headed toward the exit, determined to make a hasty retreat. However, her step faltered when a ladies'-room sign caught her eye. She glanced uncertainly toward the stage, where Reverend Young seemed to be in the midst of his concluding remarks. Surely there would be time for a quick visit, she thought, changing directions.

But Jess had miscalculated. When she pushed the door open less than four minutes later the audience was on its feet, and quite a few people were already passing the ladies' room on their way to the exit. The minister must have wrapped up his remarks in record time, she realized in dismay.

Jess glanced toward the front of the auditorium. She could see the top of Scott's head above the crowd as he moved toward the exit. Not good, she realized in panic, quickly stepping back.

Even though she felt foolish about being a prisoner in the ladies' room, Jess couldn't see any way out of her predicament. She wasn't ready to face Scott. So her only option was to wait until the place cleared.

A few women stopped in the ladies' room on their way out, and Jess made a pretense of touching up her lipstick and combing her hair. But gradually the visitors tapered off and the din of the crowd subsided.
Jess was just about to push the door open and peek out when voices on the other side stopped her.

“…was feeling worse and worse, so I told him to go home.”

“No problem. I can catch a bus.”

She froze. It was Scott. And Reverend Young.

“I don't know,” the minister said skeptically. “It won't be easy at this time of day on a weekend. The schedule is so abbreviated.” He sighed. “I didn't think this would be an issue when I sent Ray home. I planned to give you a ride myself until I got the page from the hospital.”

“That's more important,” Scott said firmly. “You need to be with that family. Don't worry about it. Trust me, I've gotten very good at this public transportation thing.”

A third, unfamiliar voice joined the conversation, which moved to another topic. Jess frowned and took a deep breath. She had a feeling of déjà vu. Once more, Scott was without a ride—and she was in a position to help. But she didn't want to see him. Didn't want him to know about her presence at this event until she'd thought about all he'd said. At the same time, it seemed somehow selfish and uncharitable not to assist. As she wrestled with the dilemma, the third person said his goodbyes, once more leaving Scott and Reverend Young alone.

“You better head out, Reverend. I'll see you at services next week.”

“All right, Scott. Thanks.”

It was now or never. Without even giving herself a
chance for second thoughts, Jess followed her instincts and pushed open the ladies'-room door.

The two men were standing about ten feet away, and both glanced in her direction. Reverend Young gave her a pleasant look, but Scott's expression went at warp speed from mild interest to shock to incredulity.

“Jess?” His voice was tentative, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

“Hello, Scott.” Her own voice was none too steady—and neither were her legs, she realized as she forced herself to close the distance between them. Her gaze connected with Scott's, and the delight and welcome in his eyes sent a flush of color to her cheeks.

When neither of them spoke, the minister stepped in. “Jess, I'm Reverend Young. It's a pleasure to meet you at last.”

With an effort Jess tore her gaze away from Scott's and reached out to find her hand taken in a warm clasp. “Hello, Reverend.”

“I've heard a great deal about you. All good things, I might add.”

Jess's flush deepened and she glanced at Scott, unsure how to respond. So instead she changed the subject. “I couldn't help overhearing your conversation,” she said a bit breathlessly. “And I—I'd be glad to give you a ride home.”

He smiled, and the warmth in his eyes spilled into her heart. “I appreciate the offer, Jess. But it's too far out of your way.”

She shrugged. “I don't have any plans for tonight anyway.”

Reverend Young chimed in. “I'd take her up on it, Scott. Buses are few and far between at this hour.”

Scott looked at her again. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, though in fact she wasn't sure at all.

“Then I accept. Thank you.”

“And thank you again, Scott,” Reverend Young said, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. “You gave a powerful talk that I know will help more than a few people find strength in their faith and better equip them to cope with their own adversity.”

“I'm glad you think it was worthwhile. But I'm also glad it's over,” he admitted with a grin.

The minister chuckled. “I'm sure you are. And I'll see you next week.” He turned to Jess and once more extended his hand. “It was good to finally meet you, Jess. Feel free to join us anytime for Sunday services. You'd be most welcome.”

Jess watched the minister stride toward the exit. She could feel Scott's gaze on her, but it took her several moments to gather the courage to turn to him. And when she did, she was momentarily distracted by the way his sky-blue cotton shirt hugged his broad, muscular chest, and by the small V of dark, springy hair that was visible at the open neck. He was tanned and fit and looked very, very appealing, she realized as her pulse accelerated. An almost tangible virility radiated from him, literally taking her breath away.

“It's good to see you, Jess,” he said quietly, his eyes smiling warmly into hers. “I had no idea you'd be here today. Or that you even knew about it.”