A canyon of sorrow cut through her heart. If only she could have one day to hold him again, look into his eyes, his soul, and tell him that she had done what he'd asked of her. She had chosen God's life. One time to share the intimate bond of faith, an intimacy that would've made them even closer, more connected.
But it was a closeness she'd never know with Jake, and the truth of that pushed the canyon deeper until she could feel her heart breaking. For a long time she let the tears come, sadness that hadn't taken the form of weeping for months.
Eventually her sobs subsided, and she blinked so she could see clearly. Then she lowered the Bible and read the underlined part once more.
I set before you life or death … choose life
.
Choose life ₊
Bit by bit, realization formed. She'd made the choice for life when it came to Jesus. But what about the way she
lived
her life?
Images flashed at her, the days and months she'd spent at St. Paul's, the conversations with Aaron about keeping the memory of September 11 fresh in the minds of people, helping the country to never forget. Then she heard Sierra's innocent voice telling her she looked happy today, but not usually. Usually after her volunteer work she looked sad.
How could she have been so blind? She'd surrounded herself with death and destruction ever since Jake died. Talking about the dead, remembering the dead, commemorating the dead, honoring the dead. Reliving the destruction, imagining the destruction, putting herself next to Jake amid the destruction, staring at the place where the destruction happened.
It consumed her.
Not that working at St. Paul's was a bad thing. They needed volunteers, and her time there had been a necessary part of her healing.
She closed her eyes. What was the prayer she'd said in the bathroom a few minutes ago?
Help me live a life that would please You and Jake and Sierra?
Wasn't that it? Then she walks in, flips open Jake's Bible, and reads a verse about choosing life?
Another chill worked its way down her spine.
Was it an answer from God? Was He telling her she'd spent enough time living in a cemetery, existing in a memorial? Was God giving her permission to move on, to choose life?
She read her husband's words again and for a moment she could see him standing before her, smiling at her, running his thumb beneath her eyes to dry her tears. “Jake ₊”
His name hung in the air and the image of him faded.
All this time she'd volunteered at St. Paul's so she could feel closer to him, closer to his memory. She'd done it to honor him and make him proud, because it was the sort of thing he would've done.
But not for two years straight.
The truth was suddenly clearer than air. Jake embraced life, lived it to the full without fear or doubt. He woke up each morning praising God and loving his family, and headed to work with a full heart. Always he had known he might die on the job, but the fact had never stopped him. The windy possibility of death had never so much as dimmed the brilliant candle that was Jake Bryan's life.
Maybe she'd acted too quickly that night by hugging Clay; maybe it would be years before she was ready to fall in love with someone new. But if Jake were standing here now he would tell her it was time to step out of the darkness, time to turn away from death and destruction.
Time to choose life.
Now Jamie had only one question for God. How? She dug her elbows into her knees. Should she leave St. Paul's? Invest her time somewhere other than memorializing the victims of September 11?
Find someone new to share her life?
The options were overwhelming.
She stood and set the Bible back on the dresser. Maybe she should call Sue, ask her what she thought of the verse. It was late, but Sue was a night owl. She'd still be up. Jamie was about to pick up the phone when it rang. The unexpected sound of it made her jump back.
Caller ID told her it was from a cell phone. Clay Miles. It couldn't be anyone else.
She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Hi.” The smile in his voice sounded over the phone lines. “I know it's late, but I had two things.”
“Okay.” She felt herself smile, felt her eyes lighten and the burden lift from her shoulders. “Tell me.”
“First, I got a call from one of the guys on the department. He had a bunch of Broadway tickets donated to the police force; they had three left for
The Lion King
, and I snagged 'em. It's Friday night. I thought you and Sierra might want to join me.”
“Lion King?
At the Amsterdam Theater?” Four different times Jamie had looked into tickets for Sierra, but the show was sold out months in advance. “Are you kidding?”
“Serious. They're orchestra level, ten rows from the stage.”
“Clay!” She did a light scream. “Sierra will flip!”
He laughed. “I had a feeling. How about we head into the city about five o'clock. That way we can get some pizza before the show. Sound like a plan?”
Jake's words came flying at her.
Choose life, Jamie … whenever you have the chance, choose life.
“Yes, Clay.” Happy tears stung at her eyes and she swallowed against the thickness in her throat. “A wonderful plan.”
They made a decision to have lunch the next day, then hung up. Jamie stared out the bedroom window at the shadowy bare trees, swaying in the early winter night. The timing of Clay's call was unbelievable. There she'd been, overwhelmed with the idea of choosing life, of moving on. What did it look like and where should she start? She smiled, the tide of sorrow waning. Most of her questions were still unanswered, but at least she knew what she was going to do first.
She would take in
The Lion King
on Broadway with Clay and Sierra.
God would show her what to do after that.
E
IGHTEEN
Sierra had barely enough time to talk to God when she got home from school.
Clay was taking them to
Lion King!
The real live
Lion King!
She bounced into her bedroom and found Wrinkles on her bed.
“Wrinkles, guess what?”
The cat yawned and stretched out his skinny arms. He didn't look that interested. Sierra dropped down on the edge and rubbed the soft fur between his ears. “Clay's taking us to
Lion King
, can you believe it?”
Wrinkles looked at her and blinked. Sierra did a big breath because maybe that cat was jealous. Or maybe he didn't understand. But God would, so she closed her eyes super-duper tight and tried to be serious. Only instead a squeally sort of laugh came from her mouth, so she jumped up and danced around the room until she bumped into the wall.
Then she settled down.
Settle down
is what Mommy said when she had a little too much energy. “God … Clay's taking us to
Lion King!
Isn't that the bestest news in the whole wide world?”
Of course God didn't talk to her like her friend, Katy, or like her mommy would. But she could feel Him listening all the same. She licked her dry lips and did a smaller, shorter dance. “I think I like that Clay, God. Thanks for letting him meet Mommy on the boat when he saved her life from the bad guys.”
She opened her eyes and gasped. She didn't have a nice dress picked out yet, and Mommy said to hurry. The closet had six nice dresses in it, so she picked out the frilliest and prettiest one, the one with blue and white and ruffles and a big bow in the back. Then her white socks with the lacy tops, the ones Wrinkles wore the other day.
Speedy fast she was ready and running down the stairs. That's when she stopped, because Clay was already there and he and Mommy were smiling at each other. Real quick she added a P.S. for God, because she had something else to say. But this time she said it in her head so Mommy and Clay wouldn't hear her.
God … I know Clay lives in California, but maybe he could change his mind and live here. Because he would make a nice second daddy, don't You think? A second daddy like James has? Please think about it, God. Thanks
.
Clay looked up at her. “Don't you look pretty.”
“Thank you.” She did a curtsy, the kind she and her mommy did when they played princess. “And you look like Prince Charming.” He really did. He was tall and he had blond hair and his eyes looked like Prince Charming in the movie.
Clay did a prince-type bow and smiled at her. “That's very nice of you, Sierra.”
Her mommy covered her mouth and laughed. Then she made smiling eyes at Sierra and said it was time to go. The trip into the city was the longest in the world. It felt like the week before Christmas because it lasted forever. But finally they ate their pizza and took a cab to the theater and went inside. The theater was the prettiest place in the world, with fancy decorations on the walls and ceilings and even the floor and seats.
They walked down toward the front until Mommy said, “This is it.”
Sierra went down the row first, then Mommy, then Clay. She wanted to stand up and dance around a little because this was the real
Lion King!
Instead her stomach did the dance by itself, twisting and jumping and proving how much excitement she had inside her. Plus also her head and shoulders did some moving and turning and looking at the other people and then her knees got involved.
Mommy leaned close to her. “Sit still, Sierra. Young ladies sit still at the theater.”
Sierra already knew that because Mommy took her here to see
Annie
once. But because of
Lion King
getting ready to start, she forgot. “Okay, Mommy. Sorry.”
“It's okay.” Her mommy smiled. “You're excited.”
“I'm
so
excited, Mommy. My tummy and head and shoulders and even my knees are excited.”
Clay leaned over Mommy's legs. “That's exactly how I feel.” He gave a nice nod, then he looked at Mommy. “I might need a reminder about sitting still too.”
Sierra giggled, and just then the lights went out. A squeal started to come from her mouth, but she smacked her hand over her lips and looked at her mother with a quick look that said she wouldn't squeal again. Promise.
But she definitely did a lot of gasps.
The giraffes came up the aisles around them, and the lions covered the stage, and painted people were singing in the trees, and more of them from someplace near the ceiling, and it was all so amazing she could hardly stand it. A dancing person started singing “Circle of Life,” and that's when the most amazing thing of all happened.
In the corner of her eyeball she saw Clay holding Mommy's hand. And that's when she was sure she would remember this night all the way until forever.
The moment Clay arrived at her house, Jamie knew the truth. No matter what she'd told herself the night before about jumping in too quickly or being ashamed of herself for her attraction to him, seeing him in person told the real story.
There was no turning back.
If she was going to choose life, if she was going to embrace it, then she couldn't berate herself for hugging a man whose company she enjoyed. Never mind whether they ever saw each other again after these three weeks, for now all she wanted was to be with him. When he walked through the door, their eyes met. They stood there, looking at each other. Then—almost in slow motion—they came together in another hug. Not the sorrowful hug of the night before, but a hug of friendship and promise and something that defied time and reason.
A hug she neither regretted nor wanted to end.
Conversation had been light and upbeat since then, with Sierra providing the main source of dialogue. From her perspective, everything about the city was super bright and super busy and super big. She talked about all of it right until they took their seats.
It was when the music started, when the fullness of it surrounded them and swept them away on the story, that Clay reached out and took her hand. At first she expected him to squeeze her fingers or pat them, his way of telling her he was glad they were getting a chance to see the show, glad they were together.
But then he eased his fingers between hers, and the sensation sent a tingling feeling all the way to her knees. She was afraid to look at him, afraid the emotions tossing her soul around would be too transparent. Instead she focused on the way her fingers felt against his, the warmth of his large hand covering her smaller one.
The play was amazing.
She'd heard people say that
The Lion King
was in its own category theatrically, that nothing compared to it, and they were right. The costumes, the singing, the sets, it was more than Jamie could've imagined. Once in a while she looked at Sierra, and always her daughter's eyes were wide and dancing, her mouth slightly open. She neither talked nor fidgeted, mesmerized by the experience.