Love's Providence: A Contemporary Christian Romance

  Love’s

  Providence

  A Novel

  Jennifer H. Westall

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  To Wendy, my first and most loyal fan.

  “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”

  ―Genesis 50:20 (NIV)

  Chapter One

  March 18

  Birmingham, Alabama

  Months had gone by. Months. And with each passing day, Lily Brennon could only watch as the boy she’d loved most of her life sank further and further into depression. It was like watching him fade from color to black and white.

  She’d tried everything she could think of—yelling, pushing, encouragement, silence—nothing had helped. How did you even begin to comfort someone whose nightmares had crossed over into reality?

  Standing in his living room doorway, she watched Jackson drop the phone into his lap and listened to his deep sigh of resignation. She wanted to give up as well. Especially if that phone call had been what she thought it was.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  He pushed the bag of ice off his knee, and it landed beside the recliner with a crunch on the hardwood floor. He pulled the top strap of his knee brace back in place, tightening it while he gritted his teeth.

  “Clayton.”

  Her heart sank. She’d hoped for the best, but she’d known for some time now that Randall Clayton couldn’t be trusted.

  “What did he say?”

  “I knew this would happen. Knew it as soon as my knee popped.”

  She waited for more, but he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. The uneasiness in her gut bloomed, but she pushed it back. She had to stay positive.

  “So what did he say?”

  “It’s over. Nobody wants me now. Not even the team in Germany.”

  “But there has to be a team somewhere.”

  “No, Lily!” He opened his eyes and glared at her. “Didn’t you hear me? I was a long-shot at best to begin with. Now look at me.” He gestured toward his leg as though he’d like to rip it off his body. “I can’t be ready to try out by June.”

  “What about next year? Guys come back from injuries all the time.”

  He shook his head. “Just because Coach pulled some strings and got me in once doesn’t mean he can do it again.”

  “You can’t just give up. Don’t lose your faith now. You’ll see. God is still working all things for your good. He knows the plans he has for you-“

  “Stop quoting scripture. I’m so sick of that. It’s the last thing I need right now. God isn’t helping me. He’s just pummeling me like it’s funny to watch me suffer.”

  She knelt in front of him and laid her hand over his, struck by the warmth of his skin—the rest of him had gone so cold. He jerked it away like her hope might be contagious.

  “Look,” she said, “I know this has been hard, and I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I just want to help. I’m sure things will get better.”

  “You’re so naïve. It’s not going to get better.” He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the ceiling.

  For a fleeting moment she thought of slapping him. That’s what she would have done a few months ago, but what good would it do now? Nothing had worked. Besides, he was supposed to be the strong one, the one who listened and offered a silver lining to every problem. She was the fighter, the scrappy one he’d had to hold back more than a few times. This reversal of roles was like trying to steady the human gyro ride at the fair, and she was failing miserably.

  She barely even recognized him anymore. There was nothing left of the boy who’d once taught her how to sink a free throw, or how to bait a fishing hook in exactly the right spot so she wouldn’t kill the cricket. She ached to reach out for him, to feel him hold her again and whisper in her ear, to see him smile. He was the one who’d saved her, so many times in so many ways. How could she be so useless now when he needed her?

  She glanced around, taking in the disheveled living room. How often had they laughed at the mismatched furniture—the neon orange futon that nearly sunk to the floor when they sat on it, the oversized wicker chair he’d found beside the dumpster on campus? Even the recliner Matthew had brought with him when he’d moved in had several tears patched with duct tape. She’d given Jackson such a hard time for renting a dump, but she’d admired his reasons. Matthew was so much better off since moving in with him. Another person he’d saved.

  She had to think of something, some way to bring back the Jackson she’d always loved. After everything he’d done for her, she couldn’t just give up on him.

  “Come on,” she said. “Your dad wouldn’t want you to quit.”

  The corner of his eye twitched, but remained fixed on the black television screen behind her.

  “He’s dead. He doesn’t want anything.”

  “I know he wouldn’t want to see you throw away your future.”

  “What future? Did you miss the part earlier about no D-League tryouts, no overseas ball? Those were my only chances at getting to the NBA.”

  “But there’s so much more to your life than basketball. You’ll have your degree soon, and you can still get a great job. And we’ll be together. I thought you wanted those things.”

  He leaned his head back and dug his fingers into the arm rests.

  “I don’t know what I want right now, okay? Just stop hovering over me all the time. I just want to be left alone.”

  She pushed herself up and shoved back another instinct to fight. A break was a good idea. She might say something she’d regret.

  “Fine. I just wanted to help. But obviously I can’t say or do anything right.” She turned and slung her backpack up from the floor. “I have to be at practice soon anyway, and at some point I have to study for midterms.”

  She waited for him to respond, hoping for any sign of the connection they’d once shared. She sighed and threw up her hands.

  “Just call me tomorrow when you get up.”

  “No, Lily. That’s not what I meant.” His gaze fell as he fumbled with the phone in his lap. “I mean, I really want to be left alone. I can’t do this anymore.”

  “What?” Her heart tripped and raced forward.

  “I just need to figure some things out, get my bearings again.”

  “What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

  Nothing. Not a nod, a denial, nothing.

  Her stomach rolled as her heart thudded against her chest. Things were bad, yes. But breaking up? She hadn’t even considered it as a possibility. They hadn’t spent more than a couple of days apart in over twelve years.

  She registered the metal warming between her fingers as she rubbed her
necklace—the necklace. She dropped it and focused on controlling her fear. He couldn’t mean breaking up. He was just upset. But he hadn’t said a word yet. He just stared at the floor.

  “Jackson?”

  “Look, forget about me, okay?”

  The knots in her stomach jerked and twisted even more. She had to get out of there before she lost it. Crossing the small living room in a few deliberate strides, she gripped the doorknob and forced it to turn. She glanced back at him slumped in the recliner and pulled her emotions back into check.

  “I thought you loved me,” she said.

  He sighed and finally looked at her, but still he said nothing.

  “Do you still…love me?” she asked.

  More empty silence. She shivered as though a cold wind had swept through the room, and she hugged her chest.

  “Jackson?”

  “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything right now.”

  It was as good as a punch to the gut.

  “I see.”

  It took every ounce of her strength not to slam the door when she left. As she walked down the sidewalk in a daze, she wondered if all of it had really happened. It couldn’t have. Surely he’d get past this and they would be okay. Was she really supposed to forget him? How did you forget a part of yourself?

  March 19

  Brunswick, Georgia

  Alex Walker lay in his bed refusing to open his eyes. He’d tried so hard not to fall asleep, willing himself to be prepared for when she woke up, but exhaustion had taken over sometime before dawn. And another chance to make things right had passed him by.

  He didn’t need to look across the bed to know—he could feel her absence all around him. Still, some small hopeful part of his brain sent his hand wandering across the cool sheet, searching.

  Nothing.

  He opened his eyes and pushed himself up to the side of the bed, pausing to listen to the silence. Her shirt and slacks were no longer strewn across the floor, and she’d even made her side of the bed. He dropped his head into his hands and swore.

  How could he have let this happen again? The empty beer bottles beside the bed were enough of an answer. But he still should have known better. Her promises never withstood the light of day.

  He forced himself to get up and walk through the house, verifying that every last drop of her was gone. He was beginning to think that maybe he’d dreamed the whole thing, but the lipstick-smeared wine glass in the kitchen sink slapped him with a good dose of reality.

  He leaned over and gripped the side of the sink, channeling his frustration into his knuckles as they turned from pink to white.

  Never again. Adrian was never going to do this to him again.

  Chapter Two

  June 30

  St. Simons Island, Georgia

  Waves tumbled over the rocks outside her window and scattered the murky images of Lily’s dream. She tried to cling to them, to coax them to return. But a shrill screech severed the connection for good. She cracked her eyelids open and made out a mocking bird on the porch rail.

  “Shut up.” She closed her eyes, but her dream had already slipped out of focus. And just like that, Jackson was gone again, leaving the dull ache in her chest that never waned completely.

  The bird outside her window shrieked again. It was worse than an alarm clock. At least that had a snooze button. She rolled over and checked the clock on the nightstand. Not even eight. She’d have to kill the bird.

  She caught the smell of pancakes, and her mood lifted a bit. Her dad was making breakfast. Maybe she could spend some time with him before everyone else got up.

  She rolled out of bed and took a quick glance in the mirror over the dresser. It wasn’t a pretty picture, but morning really wasn’t her thing anyway. Half of her hair had fallen out of its ponytail, and her bloodshot eyes ached for sleep. If it had been someone else, she’d swear they had a bad hangover.

  She slid her feet into her slippers and headed across the beach house. The floorboards creaked, and a light dusting of sand covered the floor, but the furniture was clean and comfortable, and the rhythm of the ocean on the rocks below had finally soothed her to sleep in the early morning hours.

  She could hear her dad humming his favorite hymn as she reached the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway and watched as he poured batter onto the griddle. His large frame filled most of the tiny kitchen, much like the one where they’d lived when she was little. The details of that house had faded long ago, but she remembered the pale yellow walls, the clock shaped like a hen, the small round table near the window.

  On cold winter mornings, she’d sneak up on her dad before the sun rose, climb in his lap and listen to his voice echo deep in his chest as he read his Bible. Then they’d make pancakes for her mom, completely wrecking the kitchen in the process. She couldn’t really remember whether her mom had cared for the pancakes or the mess, but Lily had loved those mornings with her dad. She wished she could do that now, just climb in his lap and pour out her fears as he hugged them away. But that was a long time ago, and a lot more had changed besides the kitchen.

  “I thought you might be up a little early this morning.” He glanced at her sideways then flipped a pancake over.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  He put down the spatula and leaned back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest.

  “I can still tell when something’s bothering you. You haven’t been yourself since you got home from school. I thought you might perk up on the way down here, that maybe you’d be excited to go somewhere new this year. But maybe I was wrong.”

  “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t hold his gaze. “I am glad to be here. It’s just…”

  He paused before scooping several pancakes onto a plate. Then he poured more batter onto the griddle. “You know, you can talk to me, Lily. Maybe I can help.”

  He studied her like she was one of the many floor plans that littered his office, ready to find and solve any problem. She almost believed he could. But the words just wouldn’t come, and he finally let out a sigh.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  She shook her head, and he frowned. She knew what he was thinking. She could almost recite the lecture brewing in his mind. Lily, you’re getting too thin… But thankfully, he thought better of it and turned back to the pancakes.

  She reached for a wooden chair at the breakfast table just inside the doorway. It scraped the tiled floor as she dragged it across, and she cringed. The last thing she wanted was to wake anyone else. She sat down and pulled her knees up to her chin.

  “Not sleeping again?” He scooped the last batch of pancakes onto a plate.

  “Not really.”

  He sat down across from her, eying her with the unspoken lecture still dying to get out. He closed his tattered Bible and set it aside, making room for his plate. Then he bowed his head and mouthed a silent prayer. When he finished, he stabbed at a pancake with a little too much force, and it slipped off the end of his fork.

  “Did something happen?” he asked.

  She chewed on her fingernail and fidgeted with the lonely plastic sunflower in the vase on the table. He finally got a bite in his mouth.

  “I saw him,” she said.

  He furrowed his brow for only a moment before his face softened. The pity in his eyes almost undid her, and she had to look away. Outside the kitchen window, she watched the drooping Spanish moss waving in the breeze, whispering encouragement, telling her to go on. He dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair.

  “Where did you see him?”

  “At a bookstore in Birmingham a couple of days before we left. I was looking for some reading to bring with me and he just appeared out of nowhere.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. I couldn’t think of anything to say.”

  “How about hello?”

  He cracked a grin, but she sighed and looked away.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. He didn’t even see
me. He was standing in the aisle holding a book, and I just turned and walked away before he looked up.”

  She hugged her knees tighter. He pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, lacing his fingers on the table.

  “I thought things were getting better.”

  “I thought so too.”

  “Lily, you’ve got to find a way to put Jackson behind you. I know it’s hard. I know he meant a lot to you, but it’s been three months.”

  “I know how long it’s been.” She darted a glance at him. “I know I have to move on. I just can’t seem to figure that part out. I thought I was doing okay, but then wham, I’m right back where I was three months ago.”

  “It’s always tough when you have a setback,” he said. “Sometimes moving on with your life is painful, but you have to do it for your own good.”

  It figured he’d say that. Lord knows she wouldn’t want to do anything for someone else’s good. Moving on had been easy for him. He’d gotten a brand new family, complete with a beautiful wife and a perfect daughter to replace her.

  “Good morning!”

  As if on cue, her step-sister Kara bounded into the kitchen, blond waves bouncing in time with her steps. Either she had slept all night and maintained her perfect hair and make-up, or she’d gotten up at the crack of dawn. Both options were appalling. She flashed a bright smile, but it faded when she stopped in front of the breakfast sitting on the counter. She wrinkled her nose and pressed her lips into a pout as she turned toward them.

  “I thought you were making bacon and eggs this morning.”

  Her dad pushed away from the table and carried his plate over to the sink.

  “I changed my mind. We’ll have that tomorrow.”

  She crossed her arms and sighed, raising her eyes up to his.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he continued. “That quit working by the time you were out of pigtails.”

  She shrugged. “Had to try.”

  She placed a pancake on her plate and took the seat he’d vacated as she chirped hello. Lily offered a grunt in her general direction, hoping she would exit as quickly as she’d appeared.