Take a Chance on Me(99)
“The truth is, I didn’t know what to think. I was on the EMS team that responded that night, and I saw you weeping over Felicity. Felt like an accident to me.”
Jensen stared straight ahead, his hands tight on the steering wheel.
“I have to give you props for staying here.”
“I didn’t have much choice.” He didn’t mean for that to emerge with such a sharp edge.
“No, but I’ve watched you. People like you. You’re kind, and you do the work.”
“People don’t like me, Joe. They tolerate me, at best.”
Joe made a funny noise, one that sounded like disagreement.
Jensen glanced at him.
“Gibs doesn’t tolerate you. He thinks the world of you.”
“That’s because I saved his life.”
“I think you should stop right there and take a look at your words. You saved his life.”
“Okay, not his life, but—”
“I’m not arguing with you. I’m trying to help you see the truth. You’re not the pariah you see yourself as.”
“You don’t understand, Joe. The town wants me to apologize. And I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Jensen looked at him. “Because . . . I’m not guilty?”
“Can’t you apologize and admit sorrow? That if you could, you’d change everything?”
Jensen turned onto Evergreen Road, not glancing at the resort. Darek’s resort.
Last time he’d been there, he’d been helping Felicity put together a plastic play set for Tiger. He’d swung the boy in the air, met him at the bottom of the slide. He’d sat at a picnic table facing the lake and listened to Felicity cry about her failing marriage.
He’d held her in his arms, brushing back her hair. And deep inside, he’d relished the fact that Darek had failed. The great and mighty Darek Christiansen had blown it.
But . . . he’d also stood beside his friend at his wedding. Pledged to help him be a good husband.
He shook his head.
“You wouldn’t change it?” Joe said.
“I would. Of course I would. But how can I fix it now? Frankly, if I were Darek, I’d hate me too.” The words settled over him, and he breathed them in. Yes, Darek probably had a reason to hate him, to blame him, and not just because he’d killed Felicity, but because—well, how would he feel if another man had been comforting his wife, listening to his wife, becoming his wife’s best friend?
Yes, he owed Darek an apology for that.
“Maybe Darek doesn’t hate you. Maybe he’s caught too—an apology, an admittance of sorrow, might allow him to forgive.”
“Darek isn’t going to forgive me. Ever. Even if I ask.”
Joe was quiet as they turned along the south side of the lake. The caravan behind them bumped along, lights scraping the forest.
“He might surprise you,” Joe said finally. “I spent ten years of my life hating my father for walking out on my family, for abandoning me, for abandoning Gabe. I hated him and believed I had a right to. The problem was, I was hanging on so hard to that belief that I nearly missed everything God had for me. I nearly left Deep Haven for good, without Mona, without Gabe—nearly missed having the life I have now. Because I clung to the worthless idol of my right to be angry. You’re doing the same thing—clinging to your innocence.”
They pulled into Jensen’s gated neighborhood, and he rolled down his window to key in the code.
“My given name, by the way, is Jonah.”
“I know. I’ve read your books.” The gate opened.
“I’ve always been struck by the words Jonah prays in the belly of the whale, as he’s slowly being digested. ‘Those who cling to worthless idols turn away from God’s love for them.’ I was clinging to the idol of my self-righteousness. But my very anger convicted me, just as my father’s abandonment did him. I had to forgive—and ask for his forgiveness—to finally find what I was looking for.”
“Which was?”
“My life here.”
Jensen pulled into the driveway. Sat for a long moment, looking in the mirror at the lights from the other vehicles arriving behind him.
He wanted a life here. With Claire. With these people.
Even if he didn’t get clemency—and he knew that was a long shot. So long, in fact, that he’d practically dismissed it. But maybe, if Claire would stick with him through his prison stint, he could return here, to her. Figure out how to build a new life, not as a lawyer, but as a free man. He was pretty handy; maybe he could hang out his carpenter’s shingle.
Joe was right. Holding on to his anger, his innocence, had kept him from embracing what he had, right here. Claire. A life. Maybe even a future. Maybe it was time to let go and trust God for what He had, come what may.