“It’s the most incredible painting I’ve ever seen.” He had captured a youthful innocence that had faded with time. “But I’m not that girl anymore.”
“Yes, you are.”
I turned to face him. “Didn’t you hear what I told you on the phone?”
“Yes, I heard you. But all that took place over eighteen years ago. Why talk about it now?”
“Because we can never escape our past.” My voice trembled, making me sound like Mom the day Dad moved out. “Someone’s found out what I did and has threatened to tell everyone, including my son.”
“That’s blackmail.” His voice became gruff, heated. “Who is it? I’ll go set them straight.”
“No. Please stay out of this. That would only make her madder.”
“Her? Is it Darla?” The muscle along his jawbone flexed. “Phil must have told her how I feel about you.”
So Darla was telling the truth? I wanted to hide my face. “But that was before you knew.”
His hand came out to take mine, but I stepped back, out of his reach.
“Self-righteous people sometimes have secrets to hide themselves,” he said. “I’ve known a friend of Darla’s for many years.”
“Vicki?” Thanks to Darla I knew her name. I wondered if Henry realized the woman carried a torch for him.
“Yes,” he said. “She introduced me to Darla, and I introduced Darla to Phil. Vicki let a nasty fact about Darla slip out awhile ago. Seems she got mixed up with a married man a few years back.” He shrugged, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “We could call Darla and give her a taste of her own medicine.”
“But then we’d be just like her.”
“True. The best remedy would be not to care whether Darla tells anyone or not.” He moved closer. “What’s the worst thing that could happen if Rob finds out?”
I considered my son’s distress, especially in the midst of his crisis with Andrea. “He’d be devastated, crushed.” I would do anything to spare him that anguish.
“His feelings probably would be hurt, but your story illustrates an important lesson: Each life is precious. If Rob ever wonders whether he and Andrea did the right thing by keeping their baby, he could remember his own parents made the same choice. And it was a good one.”
I felt light-headed, unsteady, as though the floor beneath me were swaying. “I can’t risk it,” I said.
“Do you think you’re the only one in the world who’s done something they regret?”
Of course I didn’t. Everyone messed up now and then, but other people’s mistakes were minor compared to mine. I had altered the lives of three people: Phil, Rob, and myself. And the repercussions continued to ripple outward.
“I’ll share a story with you. I hate to admit this to anyone, but here goes.” His weight rocked forward and his head bowed for a moment. Then he said, “You met my daughter Terry?”
“Yes, she’s very pretty.”
“After Barbara died, Terry was on my case about everything. Why didn’t we have enough money to go to Disney World? Why couldn’t she eat junk food in front of the TV instead of doing her homework? Why did she have to go to bed so early when all her friends got to stay up until midnight? You name it, and it was my fault. Her grades plummeted, and her teachers called weekly. Then, when I didn’t think things could get any worse, she was caught shoplifting.” He rubbed one eye. “I called her a brat after the policeman brought her home and threatened to send her to a boarding school for juvenile delinquents.”
I pictured myself in his place. After his wife’s death it would be painful to be rejected by his daughter. I wanted to assure him that even the best parents lost their temper every once in a while.
His voice sounded strange, as though he were having trouble breathing. “Terry screamed, ‘I hate you.’ Then she slapped me in the face with all her might. Without thinking my fist flew out and stopped an inch away from her cheek.”
As his arm swung out to demonstrate, I couldn’t help recoiling. I abhorred violence and couldn’t conceive of a man striking his own child.
When he saw me cringe, he bowed his head again and expelled a mighty breath. “The Holy Spirit must have grabbed my hand. At that time of my life, I honestly wasn’t strong enough to do anything by myself.
“I’m not proud of that moment,” he continued, sounding frail. “I’ll never forget the horrified look on Terry’s face as she cowered in fear. I still regret it. My girl could have ended up in the hospital.”
“How did you both get past it?” Or had they?
“First, I apologized and promised that when I got angry I’d go somewhere to cool off. Never, never again would I allow frustration and resentment to govern my actions. Then I went in my bedroom and fell to my knees and begged for the Lord’s forgiveness. I was so filled with shame it took awhile for me to accept his gift. But I finally found peace.” He looked me squarely in the eye. “Do you think I deserved God’s mercy?”
He answered his own question. “No, none of us deserves it. But God is generous beyond our comprehension, and his forgiveness is free for the asking. Now, have we got that all settled?”
“Yes.” At least I wanted to understand. And I wanted to know his God and to be made whole, as he had been.
He glanced at his painting, his gaze coming to rest on my likeness. “I’ve kept myself isolated for so long, afraid of loving another woman who might leave me. I’ve been lonely.”
“I know how that feels.”
He slipped his arms around my shoulders with such gentleness and care—as if I were the most precious creature on earth. Then I felt my lips melt into his. The warm current flowing through my veins washed away all doubts and replaced them with happiness. I closed my eyes and let his strong arms support
