She was done washing, so she dried his feet, one at a time. When she was finished, she took the wash bin to the bathroom, dumped the water into the sink, and washed and dried her hands. As she returned, she found her Bible on the coffee table and sat next to him. Before she could show him the verses God had used to change her heart, he eased her to her feet and embraced her. The sort of desperate embrace that told her how worried he was that she wouldn’t be here when he came home.
“I love you, Laura.” His words were a heart-gripping whisper spoken straight to her heart. “Forgive me for waiting so long to take care of the past. Marry me. Please.”
“Yes.” She whispered the word and it sounded more like a cry from the deepest place in her soul. “I’ll marry you and I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you and serving you. Because this weekend you showed me the lengths you’ll go to apologize. If you love me that way, if you love us that way … we have only the happiest life ahead of us. You and me, together.” She laughed, even as two tears dropped onto her cheeks. “Yes, Brad. I’ll marry you.”
The alarm in his expression faded and his eyes began to dance. “I prayed for this.”
“Me too.” She let herself get lost in him. She loved Brad Cutler more than ever before. “Will you forgive me for my narrow view of love, for the way I judged you?”
He hesitated, as if even after all she’d said and done he still struggled with the idea of her being sorry for anything. But he must’ve understood the look in her eyes because he pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I forgive you. Of course.”
“I need to show you something, a verse.” They sat down together, and she opened her Bible to Luke. She found the section that had opened her eyes, and with a love she hadn’t known before, she began to read to him.
“ ‘Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be judged.’ ” She felt sick over her initial reaction to Brad’s admission. But she pressed on, because those feelings were behind her now. “ ‘Give, and it will be given to you.’” She read through to the end of the section, to the part where the verses had suddenly and completely come to life for her. The part about building the foundation.
When she finished, she saw in his eyes that he understood the transformation in her. “I love you, Laura. I’m in love with you.”
“I love you more.” She smiled at him, and she could feel her face glowing, feel the way her eyes filled with life because this was the outcome she had prayed for.
He kissed her again, this time tenderly on her lips. Not a kiss intended to stir passion in either of them, but a kiss that told her he had come home to stay. No words were needed, really. The Scripture had said all there was to say. The life they were about to start together would take decades to build, and some seasons would be tougher than others. But this weekend God had taught them how to ride out the journey of life together. How to let the hard times bring them closer together. They had each listened to God, each sought forgiveness and found it. They had acted on His words, and in doing so they hadn’t only come closer to the Lord.
They’d laid the first bricks in a rock-solid foundation that would last forever.
K
RISTIN
P
ALAZZO WAS DEAD
.
Emma could accept that now. The Lord took her home on a soft summer day the ninth of June with her family gathered around her. Today — two weeks before Brad’s wedding — was Kristin’s memorial Service in a packed church not too far from the one where Emma was now a regular. Memorial Service wasn’t the right term, really. Her life celebration, that’s what Kristin’s family called it. Emma sat near the back, and a few minutes before the program began, Gavin slipped quietly into the church and joined her. He hadn’t known Kristin, of course. But he had been there in the hospital with Emma after Kristin’s cardiac arrest. He’d prayed for her ever since.
The church was so full people stood two-deep on either side aisle. The building held Kristin’s friends and family, and even most of the children from Emma’s class — including Frankie and her parents. Kristin was very loved in this life — today was further proof. People were still filing in, still signing the guestbook at the back of the church, still taking their places. Music filled the church — the songs from Jeremy Camp — the ones Frankie had given Emma the last day of school. Kristin’s favorite.
She’d listened to the CD again and again since Brad’s return home. Twenty times through at least. Frankie’s mother was right; when Emma played the collection of songs, she could hear Kristin’s voice, see her smiling face as if she were still only an arm’s length away. Emma’s favorite song was one that was playing now. It was called “Take You Back.”
Emma listened to the words now, and like always they seemed written for her alone …
A heart that bleeds forgiveness … replacing all these thoughts of painful memories … But I know that your response will always be … I’ll take you back …
That’s exactly what God had done for her, and he’d used Brad Cutler to make it happen. The Lord had taken her back and she would never, ever leave again.
Beside her, Gavin sat straight and tall, strong in every possible way. He’d called a few times, and with each conversation she felt herself falling for him a little more. She understood better now how he could care for her — even after he knew about her past. Before, she had needed all her effort to resist him — back when she didn’t share his faith or his belief about God’s forgiveness. Now … now there was no telling where God would take their growing friendship. She smiled at him, and he did the same. His eyes told her that he was there for her. If today became too difficult, he was there.
A hush fell over the crowd and the service began. A slide-show presentation showed Kristin as a little girl with her black lab, Mollie, and with her grandma and her cousins. There were photos of Kristin arm-in-arm with her father, her hero, the man who had been with her in her final conscious moments on earth. Other photos showed her with her arm around her younger sister, Stephanie. Several pictures showed Kristin on a trip to the American Girl doll store, and at her family’s cabin in the mountains of West Virginia.
The six hundred or so people in attendance chuckled when the photos showed her stirring a pot of spaghetti, red sauce splattered up along her shirt and her face, Kristin grinning, having the time of her life. Emma realized as she watched that they were still learning from Kristin, still drawing from her humble, easy way. The life pattern she had of trusting God in all that came her way, even long after she was sick.
Emma appreciated that about the slideshow. Her parents didn’t include pictures of Kristin looking sick or frail. Nothing from a hospital bed, because that wasn’t Kristin. The girl loved life and honored God with every breath. The slideshow focused on that truth alone.
When it was over, the pastor said a few words about Kristin’s life, about the legacy she would leave behind. “I want to read you the first few verses of Psalm 46, the Scripture Kristin loved most.” He opened his Bible and began to read. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.” He closed the Bible and smiled at the crowd, at the people on the sides and in the back, and at her family in the front row. “The mountains have fallen into the sea, because Kristin Palazzo is no longer with us here, where we want her to be. But today she would ask you not to fear. God was her refuge, and He is ours.”
Yes, that was exactly what Kristin would want. Emma could almost see her, smiling at them from her place beside the Lord in heaven. She leaned closer to Gavin. “I wish you could’ve known her.”
His eyes shone with the love of God. “I feel like I do.” He gave Emma’s hand a single loving squeeze. “And I will … someday.”
The Service continued with a string of people coming to the front and talking about Kristin’s life, how she never talked about being sick and how she was always more focused on others than herself. Friends laughed about the silly pictures she would take and her way of making people happy. One friend spoke through teary eyes. “I’d like to think that Kristin will be a much bigger part of my future than she was of my past.” She struggled, her voice tight with sorrow. “And she was a very big part of my past.”
Finally, the principal of her high school came to the front with an impressive wooden plaque. “This fall we will have a new art gallery in the main hallway of our school. For the first year it will display only Kristin’s artwork, and after that it will hold the artwork of generations of students like her, with an eye for life.” He held out the plaque toward the place where her parents were sitting. “If you’d accept this on behalf of Holden Beach High School, in commemoration of the Kristin L. Palazzo Gallery.”
Kristin’s father, Rick, stood and accepted the plaque as the crowd of his daughter’s friends and family rose to their feet, applauding the way Kristin lived, the legacy she left behind, and the fact that Holden Beach High had chosen to honor her memory the way she deserved to be honored.
When the Service was over, Gavin hugged Emma for a long time. He didn’t say anything trite or try to pretend he might understand the personal way Kristin’s loss had touched Emma. It was one more thing she liked about Gavin — his ability to be her friend without saying a word. Before they walked out of the church, Lynne Palazzo — Kristin’s mother — motioned for Emma to wait. The woman’s eyes were tearstained, but her smile was full and without reservation.
“Here.” She handed a package to Emma. “Kristin must’ve made this for you before … before that day. We found it beside her bed when we were going through her things.”
Emma was stunned. She took the gift and thanked Kristin’s mother. The two shared a hug, and Lynne Palazzo looked intently into Emma’s eyes. “She prayed for you all the time. That you would come to know Jesus the way she did. And something tells me you’ve done that.”
“I have.” Emma’s heart warmed at the memory. She pictured Brad and everything the Lord had done to change both of them over that single Memorial Day weekend. “Kristin’s prayers were answered.”
Lynne smiled. “Let’s stay in touch. I think Kristin would’ve wanted that.”
“Definitely.” Emma thought so. “I have something I’d like to bring by your house this week. A painting one of my kids did for Kristin.”
Her mother’s eyes filled again, but her smile was bigger than before. “Please … bring it by.”
Emma thanked her again for the package, and then she walked with Gavin outside and down the church steps. When they were a distance from the crowd, Emma opened the gift and put the pieces of pale floral wrapping paper carefully into her purse. Only then did she realize what she was holding. This was the present Kristin and her students had been working on. The picture book of her time with the class throughout the school year. She must’ve somehow had time to finish it before her collapse.
And now Emma would have it always, a reminder of Kristin’s life and the prayers she’d said on her behalf. This would be proof of the miracle God had worked in her life in a few short days. A reminder that all life was to be celebrated. The Lord had taught her that lesson with her friend’s little stillborn Cassandra, in the determination of Frankie, and finally in the death of Kristin Palazzo. But He had also used her own losses as well. Life was precious — every day. She would spend the rest of her time believing that.
Gavin walked her to the parking lot and her red convertible. He looked intently at the sunny blue sky. “I’m still training for that half marathon.” He grinned at her. “You?”
She made a funny face, enjoying how he made her feel — as if she was going to get a second chance to truly live her life. “I’ve slacked off a bit. I have to admit.”
“Which means … if you go get your running shoes and meet me in an hour at the pier, I might have a chance to keep up with you.”
She laughed out loud and the feeling was as free as her heart. “Okay. I’ll try to go easy on you.”
His eyes sparkled as he waved good-bye and walked toward his car at the other end of the church parking lot.
The hour flew by and he was waiting for her when she jogged up to the base of the pier. “Ready?”
Emma would always miss Kristin, but this was somehow as much a reminder of her life as anything Emma might do this after noon. Running with her new friend, Gavin. Believing that God wasn’t finished with her yet.
They set out to the west and then around past the pier and toward the far side of the beach. Emma had figured she would keep as far from the white wooden cross as possible. But she changed her mind as she drew near to it. With Gavin jogging beside her, she ran up the hilly slope and stopped short at the place where the cross stood. The length of rope was still looped around its base. She hadn’t told him about Brad’s visit. That could come later. Catching her breath, she stared at it, her hands at her sides.
Gavin looked curious, first at the cross and then at her. “This is yours?”
She nodded, her sides heaving from the run. “It is.”
“I’ve seen it before.” For a long while he said nothing, allowing her this time without needing all the answers. Then he looked closer at it and an understanding came to his expression. “November 20, 1999.”
“Yes.” Emma looked once more at the cross. She had always felt sad when she looked at it, but not this time. Now the cross represented more than a loss of life. It meant the redemption of her soul. She smiled at Gavin, trusting him with a softness she hadn’t allowed before. “I thought you’d want to see it.”
Gavin held her eyes for a moment and the look on his face told her he understood. He squeezed her hand for a few seconds. Then they set off running again, and Emma looked long down the length of Holden Beach. Yes, this was where life and love had ended. But today — Kristin’s day — Emma chose to see this beach as something else.
The place where life began again.
T
HE LAST
S
ATURDAY IN
J
UNE, SUNLIGHT
shone over Manhattan, casting a brilliance on the Hudson River as a breeze blew over the neatly trimmed lawn at the Liberty House. Brad wore a tux that was both elegant and understated, and he stood next to his best man — his father, wise old Carl Cutler. The pastor stood on Brad’s right, and on the other side of his father, the groomsmen were lined up, ready for the big moment.