On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) (39 page)

“Dad, how has this always been enough for you? I know you flew in the Air Force and often said you wished you could’ve traveled more. So why did you settle for this life?”

Not too awfully surprised by the question, Claude scratched his chin, pondering how best to answer. Ever since John was just a young man, Claude sensed it was a question that was ever on the tip of his tongue, yet he’d never dared to ask it before. “Well, for one thing, your mama was here waiting. Then soon enough, you came along. I had the ranch to run and a family to feed. I s’pose I really didn’t think about such things as
enough
. I don’t guess I had to; you two were enough for me. Still are.”

Feeling ashamed of how he had looked down on him for so many years, for the first time, John understood that it was never lack of drive or ambition that pacified his dad, but rather love that satisfied him. They, his family, were what drove him. His love for them kept him going, even though he missed out on things that mattered to him. There was John, fifty years old, and the first time he ever loved anyone was just a year before. And in that love he was a complete failure, every aspect of it. Because he failed to prevent himself from loving her, or more accurately, allowed things to develop as they did, he hurt Chelsea. So technically who was the better man? There was no comparison; the better man was definitely his father.

“I honestly didn’t know how selfish I was being with Chelsea at the time. Well, until you pointed it out.” John grinned wryly at his dad. “But even after you did, I was too selfish to walk away earlier. I should have. At least that would have saved her some of what I’ve put her through.”

“Who said anything about walking away? I meant you ought to marry her.”

“That would hardly be fair to her.” One night, alone at the office, he called his dad, just to hear a familiar voice. Within a few moments, John
found he was spilling the entire story to his father, even their inappropriate beginning.

“I think it was hardly fair to her either that you broke her heart.” Claude knew enough from Louise that Chelsea was completely devoted to John, so much so that she was willing to let him go if it was what was best for him, spiritually speaking.

John fell silent. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

“Son, if you would have married her, well, this new man I’m talking to, you would have loved her until your last breath. That would have been
enough
for her. Who’s to say she’ll ever find someone to love her the way you do? Who’s to say she’ll ever love again like she loves you? Seems to me you took her voice away in the matter? That was what was unfair. You should have allowed
her
to decide. But like everything else, you thought you knew better.” Claude reached for John’s wrist. Squeezing it, he assured him, “Son, you’re a smart man, but you don’t always know better.”

Thinking of all the things his father said, John camped most on the fact that he had taken her voice away. From the very beginning, that was what he said he wanted to help her find, her voice. Each time she’d spoken up or out on any matter, he found he was so proud of her. But when it really mattered, he gave her no opportunity to tell him what she wanted or felt. That day at the beach, he guilted her into promising to let him walk away.

The more he thought of what his father said, one thing puzzled him. “What do you mean, if I was this new man?”

“I mean the man who is at least seeking God. The man you were before didn’t deserve her. I realize how harsh that sounds, but the truth is, a girl like her deserves a godly husband, one who believes what she believes. You were not that man then.” Reaching out, patting John’s shoulder, he added, “I see you gettin’ there though.” Not one to normally be caught up by such sentiment, Claude’s eyes filled with tears. Just the thought of John setting out to find God was enough to allow him to die a happy man. Over the years, he’d come to doubt he would ever see such a thing.

As were most of John’s nights, this night was fitful at best. Finally, sitting up on the side of the bed, he moved another few feet, coming to
rest on the floor. On his knees for the first time he could recall since being a small child, he asked a simple question. “I was never good enough, was I?” For a moment more he knelt and then added, “No wonder I had to give her up.” John could clearly recall the moment he heard the voice of God within him. It was the first night he spent with her family at Thanksgiving, almost exactly one year before. Just after her dad said if Chelsea married him, she would have a geriatric husband and would become a young widow, John clearly heard in his heart, “She deserves better.” It was one of the most defining moments of his life. If God had ever spoken to him before, he’d missed it. But that night, he was certain it was the voice of God. And from that moment on, even though he wavered on occasion, he knew he would eventually have to give her up.

In that moment, there on his knees, John finally grasped the source of his lingering anger. It was never that Chelsea deserved better, in the sense that she should marry a younger man as he believed it to mean at the time. Instead, it was that she deserved a better man entirely. Once again, he found himself not
good enough
; that was what had so infuriated him. The one thing he had set out in life to prove was that he was good enough, but he found the one circumstance where he would never be. And it was the one thing that mattered most to him.

Even more so than she anticipated, the holidays proved to be terribly lonesome, even while surrounded by so many people who cared for her. The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas dragged by excruciatingly slowly. All she wanted was for it to be over. Everyone around her was excited and busy, but she intentionally shut herself off from all the festivities. Her family was concerned, especially her mother. Tuck and Lucy often stopped by unannounced, but most often Chelsea wasn’t up for company, so after visiting for a few minutes, she would make an excuse about having something else to do and send them on their way. It was never a lie; she did have something else to do, sleep. Just as when she came home from L.A., she slept her heartbreak away. It was hours of blissful release to close her eyes and wake only to find an afternoon was gone and it was close to actual bedtime, which brought with it eight to ten more hours of relief.

While awake, her mind was constantly filled with memories of the Christmas before, that moment especially when she knew for certain she would lose him. When she asked if he had any intention of changing his mind, his reply, “No, Chelsea, I don’t,” nearly destroyed her. He whispered it softly, regretfully, but resolutely. Just a few moments prior to his admission, as they sat outside snuggling together, she was certain she heard from God, certain she could believe for forever. So even after he spoke such words, she was able to hold on to some tiny shred of hope, but as the months wore on and another Christmas came, she had to suspect she’d been wrong all along.

The evening of Thanksgiving, once everyone was gone, she sat beside the fire and tried to pray. It was as if her heart were too withered and despairing to even ask for what she hoped for. In that moment, her greatest fear was that she would never see John again, never feel his embrace or hear him say her name. For whatever reason, the thought occurred to her that she would see him again in heaven, and for a moment, that thought was a reassuring one. But in the moments after, she realized that maybe that was what God meant all along when He whispered that she could believe for forever. They
would
be together forever, just not likely on earth. From that moment on, she felt lost. There was no hope remaining, nothing left to hold onto. It was then she began to sleep constantly and pray desperately.

Her prayers remained constant for John, that he might know the Lord and for his safety. But the prayers she prayed for her own life shifted. She began to pray to let go. Often she pled that she might somehow stop loving him. Sometimes she even questioned God’s plan altogether. Why would He allow her to finally love again and then take John away? Why was she so stupid that she hit “Send” that day? How had she missed God’s voice in so significant a matter? That was what fed the deepest of her depression, missing God. If she missed Him then, had she ever really heard Him at all? Was she more in the habit of doing what she wanted, convincing herself that it was God? If so, that was likely the reason she felt the approval of God in pressing “Send” to begin with. She sensed it was His provision, when maybe all along it was her way of trying to take care of herself and finances, a way of refusing to go
home when all along she knew she should. Was it possible that this love and loss were her punishment for missing God? Never would she have believed that of Him prior to such a hopeless season.

Relentless pounding on the door forced Chelsea out of bed. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was just after eight in the evening, but already she’d been in bed since dark, alone with her thoughts. She switched on the porch light and found Tuck and Lucy standing there in the cold, excitedly holding a shabby little Christmas tree. Opening the door, she asked, “What are you two doing?”

Already Tuck regretted coming. He could see she was not so happy to see them, a look that had become quite common over the past weeks. It was Christmas Eve and Lucy had hardly eaten dinner that night. She’d been so upset about Chelsea that she had withdrawn into herself. It was unlike her. When Tuck took her aside and finally urged her to open up, she said she was sad because Chelsea was all alone and had no tree. He tried to convince her that Chelsea would go to her parents’ for Christmas Day and didn’t need a tree, but still Lucy remained sullen. Finally, she began to cry. That was so totally out of character for her that Tuck went for her coat, assuring her they would go find Chelsea a tree. Alone out in the woods with a flashlight and a chainsaw, Lucy picked out a Charlie Brown Christmas tree for her best friend Chelsea. And there they stood, waiting on the front porch with Chelsea greeting them in her pajamas.

“I brought you a tree.” Slipping in through the crack in the door, Lucy circled her arms around Chelsea’s waist and buried her face in her stomach. “I’m so sorry you’re sad for Christmas. I’m sad too, and I thought if I could hug you we both might feel better.”

Hugging Lucy tightly, Chelsea began to cry. Kneeling down before her, she said, “Lucy, you are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Lucy touched Chelsea’s face, and with one finger, followed the trail of a tear. “I’m sorry your old man friend never came.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Watching the exchange between his daughter and Chelsea, Tuck was struck by a truth that had been glaring at him all along. Chelsea would never be his again. She loved John in a way she could never feel for him, never. No matter how long he waited, what they once had was gone.
In all the time he’d been secretly plotting his strategy to win her back, he missed how truly heartbroken she was. But Lucy saw it. There was a friendship between them that transcended ages. Just as much as Lucy needed a friend in her life, Chelsea did too. He’d certainly not been that friend to her.

Bringing the tree into Chelsea’s living room, Tuck offered, “I’m sorry. I know it’s late, but Lucy insisted.”

Chelsea and Lucy had followed him in and were still holding hands. Sitting on the sofa with Lucy, Chelsea said, “Thanks for listening to her.”

While Tuck sat the tree into the stand, Lucy showed Chelsea the box of ornaments she had brought for her tree. Most were ones she’d made for her dad over the years, so Chelsea promised to return them right after Christmas. Then they began a scavenger hunt for other things to hang on the tree. From the kitchen they brought silver spoons and forks. Tying ribbon around the handles, they then allowed them to dangle from the branches. Lucy took colored index cards and drew pictures on them and tucked them into the needles. As they found other various shiny objects, they each placed them on the tree. Before long, it was full enough to be what Lucy declared an official Christmas tree.

It was getting late and Tuck insisted he get Lucy home to bed. After they were gone, Chelsea went upstairs to get her pillow and blanket, along with a photo of John. Taking them back downstairs, she put the photo on a tree branch and then curled up on the sofa to sleep for the night. How could she not go to sleep looking at her beautiful tree? Just before drifting off, Chelsea admitted to herself and to God; she had only one option, to let John go. It was time.

A
few days after Christmas break, when Lucy started back to school, Tuck dropped her off and went immediately to Chelsea’s. When he got there, she was in the kitchen cooking breakfast and invited him to join her. It reminded him of when he visited her in L.A. They shared a closeness that can only come from years of history and good memories, yet there was an expanse between them that would likely never be overcome. She busied herself, seeming more like her old self and less like Blue Christmas Chelsea. That was what he and Lucy called her for the past few weeks. Surprised by her change in mood, he asked, “So, what has you in such a good mood?”