Five seconds ticked by.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Finally, he looked up.
At the compassion softening Natalie’s features, his pulse stuttered.
Where was the righteous anger? The indignation? The disgust?
“I’m not going to press charges, Paul.”
His jaw dropped. “Why not?”
“It took a lot of courage for you to come here tonight andadmit your guilt, to tell me about your family history, and I don’t believe in punishing people who have sincere remorse and the courage to acknowledge culpability. I also understand that what you did was motivated by love for your son. Your attempt to protect him was admirable, if ill-advised.”
At her gracious generosity, his vision blurred.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Somehow he choked out the words as he extended a shaky hand. “But I’ll be forever grateful.”
She clasped his fingers and squeezed before releasing them. “I’ll talk to Cara about the journals. I believe you’ll be able to count on both of us to be extra cautious in our use of the contents. And I’ll keep you informed about any information we find that may be pertinent to your family history.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He stood. “May I take a raincheck on the tea you offered earlier?”
“You may indeed. Anytime.” She rose and gripped her cane. “I’ll walk you out.”
He followed her to the door. “I wish I could do more than say thank you.”
“You could give me a hug. I don’t believe you’ve ever done that.” She held out her arms.
Without hesitation, he stepped into them. “I’m always happy to dispense hugs.”
“I’ll remember that in the future.” After a moment, she released him, the kindness in her eyes a balm to his soul. “We’ve been friends for many years, Paul. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t condone what you did, but I respect that you came forward to confess. And I believe in living Ephesians 4:32. Drive safe going home.”
“I will.” He lifted a hand and returned to his car as an older-model Accord appeared in the distance on the drive.
The professor was back.
Hopefully she was as circumspect and honorable as Natalie believed.
But this was in God’s hands now. He was done trying to orchestrate outcomes. If he’d ever wondered whether he was cut out for subterfuge, this experience had given him his answer.
A resounding no.
And as he crunched down the driveway, waving at Cara when they passed, he gave thanks for Natalie’s kindness and forgiveness.
Then he added a silent prayer that whatever she and Cara found in Marie’s journals would provide answers to a long-standing mystery and allow both families to close the door on that page of ancestral history.
IT WAS TIMEto formalize their date—and end his weekend with a Cara fix.
Lips bowing, Brad tossed the container from his microwave dinner into the trash, picked up his phone, and wandered over to the back window as he scrolled to her number and placed the call.
She picked up on the third ring, her greeting a tad breathless.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No. I just finished my walk around the lake. Give me a sec to go inside.” A scuffling noise came over the line, followed by a door opening and closing. “Sorry for the delay.”
