“Fine,” she said. “Leave me hanging. Can I give you a hug?”
After a reluctant sigh, he nodded.
She came around the table and leaned down to wrap her arms around him. “Thank you, Luke.”
Several miles south of Luke’s apartment building, Finley pulled to a stop on the side of a country road. This location would look unremarkable to the rest of the drivers who passed it today. Yet this particular spot, bordered on both sides by nature, had so profoundly impacted her life that her knees were already quivering. It was anything but unremarkable to her.
A Nissan zoomed by. She couldn’t make out much about the driver, except that he was male and didn’t look her way.
She took a fortifying breath and exited her car. Picking her way around shrubs and beneath trees, she reached the place where Chase’s car had crashed to a halt.
His Jeep had left a path of destruction. It had gouged the earth and cracked one young tree clean in half.
Numerous times, she’d come here. Sometimes on Chase’s birthday. The anniversary of his death. The anniversary of the day he proposed.The anniversary of what would’ve been their wedding.
The first several times, it had looked as though the damaged young tree would not survive. A large section of it had, indeed, died. Gradually, though, the remaining section recovered. It gained height and breadth.
Finley rested her palm on the dark fractured piece of its trunk. Anyone who cared to look closely would always be able to see the harm that had been done to the tree. Her vision traveled upward. But anyone who cared to look closely would also seelife. A canopy of brand-new spring leaves arched above her.
She would always bear the mark that Chase’s death had left on her. But that didn’t have to stunt her future. It didn’t have to mean that scars couldn’t become a part of a beautiful whole. God held life in His palms, and He was calling her to continue living and growing.
She approached the patch of land where Chase’s body had come to rest after he’d been thrown from the vehicle. Today, wild blue violets blanketed it. They weren’t fully blooming yet, but soon they would.
She sat cross-legged as cleansing tears drifted over her eyelashes.
She cried for him and the tragic way his life ended. For how young and wonderful he’d been. For all the things he hadn’t had a chance to do and give. But she also cried from a place of thankfulness. She’d had the opportunity to know him and love him. Their relationship had made her life richer, and thank goodness they’d experienced all they had before his death.
She’d put up a shield to protect herself from love. It had done its job; it had kept her safe. But the time had come to move out from behind that and walk forward.
It’s what Chase would’ve wanted for her. It’s what God wanted for her. It’s what she wanted for herself.
In all earnestness, she’d planned to rehabilitate Luke. However, it seemed the reverse had happened.
To her astonishment, Luke was rehabilitating her.
Aserver dressed in traditional German garb approached the table where Ben, Akira, and Mr. Wrigley sat. “Guten Tag!”
“Guten Tag,” Ben answered gamely. Poor thing. Dressing in a costume for work every day had to suck.
“Will you be having theWiener schnitzelor the bratwurst?”
Ben politely let the others order first. They opted for the schnitzel. He went for the bratwurst.
The woman scribbled on her notepad.
The water main that serviced both Misty River High School and East Side Elementary had broken in the middle of the night. Crews were still at work, so administrators had canceled school today. Akira’s kids had the day off, but their parents did not, so she’d scrambled to organize a daylong field trip. She’d asked Ben to come along because she needed more chaperones than herself and Mr. Wrigley, the elderly gentleman who volunteered with the after-school program. This morning, Ben had driven everyone to the town of Helen in Furry Tails’ van.
More than fifty years ago, Helen had reinvented itself as a Bavarian village. They’d painted frescoes of dancing German people, hung flower boxes, opened beer gardens, and plastered everything with old-fashioned German lettering. The town felt like a German theme park, which had turned it into a tourist magnet.
They’d taken the kids zip-lining before stopping to eat lunch on this covered patio. German pennant flags curved in the March breeze.
“Would anyone like a stein of beer?” their server asked.
The adults declined but of course one kid shouted, “Me!”
“Water for the kids, please,” Akira said.
“Danke schön!” the woman replied before moving to her next table.
