Take a Chance on Me(82)
But now Gibs perked up, gesturing him inside. Jensen didn’t want to look at John Christiansen, sitting there in a chair, his legs crossed. But John didn’t seem to have a problem getting up, reaching to shake his hand. “Jensen. How are you?”
Huh. “Fine.”
“Keeping busy?”
“Yeah. Here and there.”
“Your dad’s place sure looks nice. You’re doing a great job there.”
“Thanks.”
No malice. No hatred. John even smiled at him, nothing of accusation on his face.
“See you round, Gibs. I’ll be by to check on you when you get back home.” John shook his hand.
Jensen watched him go.
“Those donuts for me, son?”
He held out the bag, and Gibs smiled as he pulled out the skizzle. “You remembered.”
“John Christiansen wants to buy your land?”
“Apparently my son told him he could. But I’m still entertaining your offer.” He winked. “Much better.”
“But, Gibs, I . . . Claire is really looking forward to you moving home, and . . .” He didn’t want to give away her project, but clearly she hadn’t told him. “She’s made a few preparations.”
“Yeah, I know. Like planning to quit her job at Pierre’s.”
She was?
“And putting her apartment up for lease.”
How did he not know this? Was he still so mired in his own world that he hadn’t listened to hers?
“But I have news for her. I wasn’t able to give my son much, but if you’re serious about your offer, then I am serious about taking it. It would give Claire a future, and I put in a request to move to the senior center in town. All my friends live there, and I wouldn’t mind being a little closer to the VFW.”
Jensen went blank. Claire would murder him if—
“I don’t think I can buy your land, sir.”
Gibs frowned, drew in a long breath, set down the skizzle, which had dripped sugar on his pajamas. “Then I guess I’ll have to take the offer—”
“No. Don’t do that.” Oh, shoot. “Listen, Claire doesn’t want to leave Deep Haven.”
“You know, God says there is a time for mourning and a time for rejoicing. Claire’s been in mourning too long over this thing in Bosnia. She needs to move on.”
Move on. But—
“God expects us to keep moving forward, even when terrible things happen. I was just sitting here, reading Joshua 1. God tells Joshua, who is still mourning Moses, to go into the land, to possess it. He says that He already had the victory planned out. Every place Joshua’s foot touched, He’d already given him. God has a plan for Claire, and she has to keep moving toward it.”
“But what if that plan is here?”
Did he sound desperate?
“With you?”
Apparently he did. “I . . . No . . .”
“She came in yesterday, looking spunky and pretty, and I had to wonder if you had something to do with that, young man.”
Funny, when Gibs said it like that, Jensen felt about sixteen. “No . . . Maybe. Yes, I’ve been seeing Claire. But I’m not going to stand in her way, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh no, of course not. You’re already doing that for yourself.”
Huh? “Every time I visit, you start harping on me—”
“It’s because I love you, Jensen. You’re like a son to me. And I’ve sat there, watching you waste away, your mistakes eating at you for three years. It’s time you stopped mourning too.”
Like a son. The words nearly burned, deep inside him. He looked away. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Yeah you do. You’ve got to ask for forgiveness and repent.”
“For something I didn’t do?”
“No, for all the things you have done. You might not have killed Felicity intentionally, son, but you are still guilty of taking a life. And if it’s not that, how about the hate in your heart for—?”
“I don’t hate Deep Haven.”
“I was going to say yourself.”
Oh.
“You’re so angry at what happened, at not being able to blame anyone, that you have nowhere to put it. So you’ve bottled it up and tried to tell yourself that you’re innocent, but the truth is, none of us are. We’re all wretched sinners, no matter what we’re accused of. And whatever we’ve done, Satan wants to keep us there, trap us in the past. God wants to set you free to the future. But you gotta confess that you need Him, regardless of the crimes you’re guilty—or innocent—of.”
Jensen closed his eyes. Drew in a breath. He did want a future, but . . . “I don’t know. I’ve managed to mess up my life pretty badly.”