Sam
SEPTEMBER 10
Dear Mr. Knightley,
Classes began yesterday. I’m ending my time here with Government Policy Reporting, Advanced Public Affairs Reporting, Web Technologies, and Advanced Nonfiction Long Narrative. Debbie says my schedule is suicidal and she’s right; it’s tough. But I figure that’s why I came. There’s more I need to learn, and I have no distractions. That sounds more pessimistic than I mean it. Let’s just say, little keeps me from a strong finish. Kyle is good. Josh and Alex are gone. And everyone else is too busy hunting down jobs.
Running and the Muirs keep me going. I decided to attack the Chicago Marathon again this year. It’s a month away and I have only two long runs left before taper begins. Kyle is eager to run with me this weekend, but I can barely spare time from work to knock out twenty miles, much less add the commute time to and from Grace House. He didn’t question or pester me—which makes me think he knows the truth: I’m retreating. I can feel it—not into books, but into my work. Nothing feels bright and shiny anymore.
Except the Muirs. I head up there about twice a week now and am met with good food, better hugs, and solid advice. The professor loves to review my work and has a remarkable ability to critique without being critical. It’s a gift I appreciate. He mentioned Alex the other night. I feigned indifference.
“He believes this next book may be his best.”
“Does he?”
“I’m proud of him, Sam. He’s had a tough road and I’ve worried these past couple years, but he sounds stronger now.”
“Hmm . . .” I pretended to read.
“I’m glad you spent some time with him this summer. Always good when the kids get along.” The professor chuckled.
And despite myself, I smiled. Alex was right—the Muirs love their “kids.”
We went back to our reading—at least the professor did. I didn’t read another word all night. I sat there withUnbrokencarefully placed in front of me, feeling exactly the opposite.
Time to run,
Sam
SEPTEMBER 16
Dear Mr. Knightley,
The Ridleys adopted Kyle! No foster parenting—straight adoption! Isn’t it wonderful? The requirements for adoption are more lenient than for foster parenting. Go figure. So as the delays kept mounting to foster Kyle, they jumped over them. Adopted, Kyle’s adopted!
I’ve never heard him so excited. They invited me to the family dinner and party—and what an evening it was. And what an extraordinary family Kyle now has. My eyes are weary and weepy, but you need to know . . .
It was still light when I got off the ‘L,’ which was important to me. It’s not a safe neighborhood, and I was nervous. But I Googled the address, and the Ridleys live two blocks from the train stop. A cab made no sense. It was time for bravery. As I got off at Division, I headed west. Three blocks later I hadn’t passed the Ridleys’ house. I almost bolted when a group of teenage boys approached.
“So, pretty thang, where you goin’?” The smallest one blocked my path.
I stepped into my best Edmond Dantes—thirteen years in prison teaches you to fight—and said, “I’m looking for the Ridley house at 1360, but I can’t find it. You can help me or I can head to the police station two blocks down. Shouldn’t take me more than a few seconds to run.”
At the Ridley name, all three boys blanched and pointed. “Coach? He’s that house.” And they backed away.
I guess no one messes with Coach Ridley. But I didn’t see it. When I arrived, he couldn’t have been more mild and kind. His wife was lovely too. They welcomed me like I was Kyle’s sister, as did their two kids and their grandkids.
“We did it, Sam. We got our boy. Can you believe it? Can you believe he’s home?” Coach hugged me.
“I’m thrilled, Coach. I can’t tell you what this means for kids like us. Kyle’s whole world will change.” Tears pooled in my eyes, and Coach pulled me close for another hug.
“You’ve got a family now too. You remember that.”
I smiled, and Kyle beamed all night. I thought he was going to shoot from his seat during grace. I’ve never seen a grin so wide.
Coach Ridley stood at the head of the table and prayed like nothing I’ve ever heard.
“God, you gave us your Son, and now you’ve given us ours. We are so humbled and rocked to our very core to be blessed with this boy. Keep him close to you, Lord. Keep our eyes wide open when any danger approaches, any fears invade, or any enemy comes to steal the peace, the love, and the grace you’ve granted us. You are our God, and we are your children. Never let us forget. Amen.”
