Kept Read online

  Probably quite like Miska’s confessing her feelings to Dillan.

  “So far I’ve been okay, but seriously it’s been by the grace of God.”

  The grace of God? After Garrett betrayed her for meaningless sex?

  “I lost you, didn’t I?” Tracy laughed. “My brothers say I talk too much, but talking things through helps me.”

  “So talk. How are you? Other than before your church meetings?”

  “Work is fine since I’m busy. It’s after work that’s hard, when I come home and don’t have plans for the night. No texts from Garrett. No wedding details. Nothing.” She waved her words away. “But enough about me. What’s going on with Mark?”

  “Nothing. He ended it.”

  Tracy nodded.

  “You think it’s good he dumped me.”

  She sighed. “I hate that you’re hurting. And I’m sorry for how things ended, but he wasn’t good for you.”

  “Just because he’s married—”

  “Miska, he stood in the hall and listened while Kendall beat you. Dillan told me they could hear you, clearly, all the way out there. That he refused to let them in. He didn’t even call the police. Kendall got off because Mark didn’t call. How can you miss a man like that?”

  “Can you blame him? He walked in, thinking he’d surprise me, and here was this other man. What would you have done if—” Oh.

  Tracy toyed with her fingers.

  Miska’s face and neck heated.

  “What I would do, Miska, is go to the person who betrayed me and call them on it, then end it. Don’t justify how he acted. A good man doesn’t do that.”

  “But you thought Garrett was a good man.”

  “To be honest, I had considered pushing the wedding back and evaluating things, but I told myself he was just tired of waiting, you know?”

  “How do you think Dillan does it?”

  “Does what?”

  Why had she gone there? “How he waits? Do you think there’s any chance he’s messing around?”

  “Dillan? No way. He wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eye.”

  “What if he just kissed a woman?”

  “What, like some random woman?”

  Did he consider her some random woman?

  “Enough about Garrett. Did you read the first chapter of John?”

  “I did.” She picked up the paperback from the end table. “Trace, I’m just going to say it. This made me feel dumb. I don’t get it.”

  “I remember. That’s normal.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re looking at God’s wisdom for the first time in your life. You’ve spent thirty years listening to the world’s wisdom, and God and this world are enemies. What God says is right and honorable, the world says is wrong and disgusting. It makes perfect sense that when you first come to the Bible, it’s going to confuse you. Even the Bible says it will seem like foolishness to those who don’t believe.”

  The open book drew her eyes. “I don’t know that I saw it as foolishness. Just confusing. Some of it made me stop and think, but I didn’t think it was dumb.”

  “Show me what you connected with.”

  “Okay.” She drew in a deep breath. God, if you’re real… “There’s this idea throughout of the world not knowing this light. Verses four and five—that the light shone in the darkness but that the darkness didn’t get it.”

  Tracy opened her mouth.

  Miska held up a hand. She had to get this all out if she was going to make sense of it. “But then verses ten and eleven really hit me. ‘He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him. He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him.’” Miska lowered the book. She’d read those words over and over, wondering, then needing to understand them. “What does it mean?”

  “It’s talking about the world—all people—rejecting God, the one who created them. Then Jesus came, specifically in those verses you read, and his own people, the Jews, rejected him.”

  Miska read the words again. All these years, she, Mom, Wade, and Zane had scoffed at the idea of God. Was this talking about her? Had she rejected him? She certainly didn’t know him.

  But one comment from Dad, a month of friendship with Tracy, with Dillan, and she was beginning to wonder if her family had been wrong. “Can someone who hasn’t known God, who hasn’t received him, change that? Is it too late?”

  “You’re talking about yourself.”

  She nodded.

  Tracy sucked in a breath. “Miska—”

  “I’m just thinking.”

  “As long as you have life, you can have reconciliation with God.”

  Reconciliation? Had she wronged God?

  “What else struck you?”

  Miska scanned the verses. “Okay, this one—the language was beautiful. I don’t understand it, but as a writer it spoke to me.”

  “Which one?”

  She began to read, aware of the awe in her voice. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.”

  “Do you know who the Word is?”

  “That’s one of the things that threw me. But when I read it here—” She closed her mouth and shook her head. How did she put into words this feeling she didn’t understand, that these words were of utmost importance? “So the Word is a person?”

  “It’s Jesus, God coming to earth and taking on human form. Living on earth with us. Going through all the things we go through.”

  “Christmas.”

  “That’s ‘the Word became flesh.’ But then it goes on. The Word dwelt among us. John’s sharing his story. He was one of Jesus’s closest followers. He spent three years with him, day after day. Eating with God in the flesh, talking to him, listening to him, learning from him. And what did he think of that experience? ‘We beheld His glory,… full of grace and truth.’”

  “So John and Jesus, the Word, were friends.”

  Tracy’s voice rang with wonder. “Can you imagine?”

  “What does it mean? Why is it so special?”

  “It means that God loved us so much that, even though we’d ruined the world he created, he lowered himself to become like us. Think of it. A perfect God taking on the form of a lowly human, someone people didn’t pay attention to. It’s like—I don’t know—Prince William taking a job cleaning toilets without the paparazzi following, without it being broadcast on the news. It was a great sacrifice, something God didn’t have to do, something he was so far above.”

  “And he lived with them.”

  “He did. He ate, slept, was hungry. The Bible even says he cried over the death of a friend and the family’s sorrow. He went through all the things we go through, quite possibly even the death of his earthly father.”

  Miska wet her lips.

  “And then there were his own brothers who rejected him while he lived on earth. He was just their brother, they thought. He couldn’t be God. So they didn’t believe him until after he’d died, risen, and returned to heaven. Which means he understands rejection too.”

  Miska curled her toes. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

  “What matters right now, Miska, is that you understand who God is. That he’s this perfect, holy, wonderful, unchanging God who humbled himself to live with us so we could have a future with him. He’s not a god who hates us, who relishes being a dictator. He’s a just God who loves us more than anyone on earth ever could. And it wasn’t just talk, Miska. He showed it.”

  He’d shown it? Show me, she begged. Her fingers trailed down the page. “Can we read it again? Now that I understand more?”

  “Absolutely.” Tracy began with that first verse, that the Word was there in the beginning, that the Word was with God and was God. That all was made through him and that he was life. And light.

  And this time, it made sense.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The parking lot at Tr
acy’s church wasn’t as full as it had been on Mother’s Day. Miska parked near the entrance. Evidently Father’s Day didn’t carry the same church status.

  Tracy hurried down the main stairs as Miska stepped from her car. “You made it. Any problems getting here?”

  “Nope. Boringest drive ever.”

  “Yay, I think?”

  Miska followed her into the auditorium which was starting to fill.

  Tracy chose a row close to where Dillan sat on Mother’s Day.

  What would he say when he saw Miska? Anything? She looked around for him.

  Instead, a guy in his mid- to late twenties walked into the row ahead of them, his eyes—and his smile—on her. He was a new face, someone she hadn’t seen at the Fosters’ home or at Dillan’s party. His dark hair set off bright blue eyes. He stopped and shot Tracy a charming smile. “Hey, Tracy. How are ya’?”

  “Fine, Ethan.”

  Miska shot her a look. She sounded annoyed.

  “Thought I’d say hi to your friend.” He held out his hand. “Ethan Doebler.”

  She shook it. “I’m Miska.”

  His smile widened, leer-like as if her name meant something. “Garrett and Dillan’s neighbor?”

  Who’d told him that? “I am.” More importantly, what did he know?

  “Cool.” He nodded rhythmically. “I’ve heard about you. Plus Tracy mentioned you the other day.”

  “So you remember.” Tracy glared at him. “I thought you forgot.”

  “Nah, but we have to make our guests feel welcome.”

  His smile reminded her of Eric. Of Kendall. She couldn’t look at him. “What am I missing, Trace?”

  Ethan shrugged. “She asked us men to leave you alone when you came.”

  What?

  “Ethan!” Tracy’s mouth hung open, her eyebrows fighting to connect.

  “You didn’t want her to know?” He winked at Miska, like they shared some secret. “Tracy’s a bit extreme, isn’t she?”

  He was definitely in the category of Tracy’s first Ethan. “I’m good with her extremeness.”

  “Yeah, well.” He dropped his palms against the top of the pew. “We all love Tracy. She knows that.”

  Tracy snorted. “Did you need something?”

  He flashed Miska that foul smile. “Wanted to invite you two to join us for lunch, if you don’t have plans.”

  “Like I want to eat with Garrett.” Tracy rolled her eyes. “Go away, Ethan.”

  He sent Miska another practiced smile. “I’ll be in the back later.”

  “Mmm. Okay.” No thanks.

  When he was gone, Miska turned to Tracy. “He’s appropriately named, isn’t he?”

  Tracy slapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, wow. That never dawned on me.” Giggles took over, and she slouched in her seat.

  “He’s awful.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Is he why you told the guys to leave me alone?”

  “Miska, dear, you are drop-dead gorgeous. You are—” She held up a hand. “Let me wax poetic. You are the ultimate fly zapper, and men are flies who cannot ignore you.”

  “Fly zapper? Really?”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “Not much.”

  Across the auditorium, Dillan entered from a side door. Someone stopped him to talk.

  “I wondered what was going on. I assumed they all had virgin radar.”

  Tracy choked. “Had what?”

  “They all said hi and backed off.”

  But Dillan hadn’t left her alone. He’d sat beside her, talked to her, run down the field with her on his back. “Every time Dillan talked to me at his parents’ house, the other guys were watching, like something was going on. I get it now. He wasn’t leaving me alone.”

  “Miska, I just wanted you to be able to focus on God. I didn’t want some guy with romance in his eyes to distract you.”

  They wouldn’t have, not with Dillan nearby. She glanced back at him.

  He was gone.

  She searched the auditorium.

  There he was, walking across the front, and his eyes were on her—until her gaze met his. He looked down at his tie, up at the wall, across the room.

  Yep, embarrassed. Wondering how to avoid her. What to say if he absolutely had to speak to her.

  He set a book down a couple rows ahead of them. His ice-blue tie swung away from him, and he caught it with his palm as he straightened, smoothing it against his stomach. “Hey, Tracy.”

  “Morning, Dillan. How are you?”

  “Good.” He swallowed. “Thanks.” His gaze flitted to hers. “Miska.” Skittered away.

  Her voice was weak. “Hey, Dillan.”

  He sped down the aisle, for someplace away from her.

  Tracy fidgeted. “What is up with everyone this morning?”

  “Nothing, Trace. He just got the message.”

  “Message?”

  “About leaving me alone.”

  “I never told him to.”

  Tracy didn’t have to, not when Miska took care of it herself.

  *****

  The last savory bite of salmon melted against her tongue.

  Across the table, Dad scooped up buttery sauce with salmon crumbs and a stray green bean.

  It was a good meal.

  He leaned back in his chair and plopped a hand against his stomach, his cheeks puffed out. “I am full. Very good, Miska. Thank you.”

  She smiled her thanks as she stood. “There’s more.”

  “More? I can’t. That was the best Father’s Day dinner ever.”

  “I bet you always say that.” She slid his card from the drawer in her new desk. “Here’s the grand finale. For what it’s worth.” She held the blue envelope over his empty plate. “Happy Father’s Day.”

  He stared for a moment before taking it, holding it with both hands. His thumbs slid across the envelope, just touching. Just… feeling.

  “Dad?”

  He slid the card out.

  “I hope you like it. Took me forever to pick out.”

  “I can imagine.” He sniffed, nose twitching. “I’m guessing they don’t make too many thanks-for-waltzing-back-into-my-life cards. ‘Hey, Dad,’” he quipped, “‘you’re the best absentee father ever. Happy Father’s Day.’”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “You don’t think Hallmark should jump on it?”

  “No.”

  He read the inside of the card where she’d thanked him for risking contacting her. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. “Thank you, Miska.” He closed the card and studied the front again. “You know what this is?”

  “What?”

  “My first Father’s Day card.”

  Her breath caught. How could that be? “What about that kid you took care of?”

  “Got a couple you’re-like-a-dad-to-me cards. Of course the women bought cards—when I was with them—and signed the kids’ names. But this is the first card I’ve received from one of my children.”

  No one else had remembered him today?

  “I will treasure this forever, Miska. This means more than you know. More than I thought it could.”

  “Thank you.” Her sinuses warned that they were going to overflow soon if someone didn’t do something. She pushed her chair back and stood, grabbing empty serving platters. Oh, to not be a woman for a moment.

  Dad spoke behind her. “Let me help.”

  “No, no. It’s Father’s Day. It’s illegal, I’m sure.”

  He followed her to the sink, plate and silverware in hand.

  “Have a seat, Dad. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Let me help you. It’s the least I can do after…”

  After all the cooking she’d done. She turned the faucet on. Water splattered and landed on her cheeks. With the back of her hand, she wiped it away.

  He craned forward to see her face. “Are you crying?”

  She laughed. “The water got me.”

  “Oh.” He set the
dishes in the sink and wiped his hands on a towel, then nudged her with his hip. “I’ll help. Then we can both sit and relax.”

  She let him take her spot.

  He tossed her the dishcloth. “Wipe off the table, daughter.”

  With a smile, she did, finishing with a gaze out the window. Late afternoon sunlight shone golden across the lake and treetops. Peace blanketed her after a full day—a pleasant morning with Tracy, a glimpse of Dillan, words from the Bible that piqued her curiosity, and dinner with Dad.

  A year ago, she would never have believed it.

  Two months ago she would never have believed it.

  She returned the dishcloth to the sink.

  Dad did a double take. “What are you smiling at?”

  She’d been smiling? “Just thinking. Life is good.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Despite your client issues? Despite whatever caused that bruise on your cheek?”

  Her smile fell away.

  “You did a good job with makeup, Miska, but it’s still there. What happened?”

  She gripped the edge of the island. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Did Mark do that?”

  “No.”

  His forehead lines deepened. “Who?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you involved with another man?”

  She couldn’t help glancing away. Her gaze landed on the new desk, dark and sleek like her floors, the new lamp a faded red. “Not anymore.” She kept her gaze averted.

  A glass clinked against the sink. Silverware clattered.

  “What about your neighbor, Dillan? Where does he fit?”

  “He doesn’t.”

  “No?”

  “I see him some. He’s nice to me when it’s just the two of us.” She blinked at the truth of her words. When they were around other people, he shunned her.

  How had she not seen that? She rubbed her arms. His birthday party, then this morning at church. She remembered Ethan and his immediate awareness of her identity. Did she already have a reputation at Dillan’s church? Was that why he avoided her? Because they knew—

  “Miska.”

  She jolted at his touch.

  But it was just Dad, eyes tight with concern. “You okay?”

  Of course she was fine.

  He pulled her to him, his arms enveloping her. A hug—the first she’d ever received from him. At least, the first that she remembered.