Page 11 of Don't Regret Me
Mr. Jacobs,
I don’t really know how to write this letter. My oldest kid told me I shouldn’t, but I explained to him how, in our family, we believe in second chances. You see, I’m the man you hit with your car many months ago. I don’t say this to install guilt in you, only to explain our connection. Because I know we are connected, you and I. I feel it in my bones.
My name is Bentley Drake, but you probably know that. I’m the pastor of a small congregation in Gulf City, Florida. You’ll hopefully be pleased to hear I have made a full recovery, thanks to the encouragement from my three kids and my parishioners.
In fact, my plans for the opening of a local youth center are back on track. You might wonder why this should matter to you. I’ll get to the point, I promise.
Gulf City is the most special town you could imagine, full of residents who will lift you up instead of tear you down. I have never been anywhere else quite like it. I’ve read the news recently, and I think it’s a place you could use in your life. Come to Gulf City. Work with us for your community service hours.
I want you to know you are forgiven, you are loved. But I’m guessing you still need to forgive yourself. Let us help you while you help the children of this town.
Consider it, please.
Peace be with you,
Bentley Drake
Nick’s hands shook as he finished the letter, and a single tear made its way down his cheek, dripping onto the page. He bowed his head, breathing deeply. He wanted nothing more than to talk to his brother, but he knew what Stephen would tell him to do.
6
ELIZABETH
Liz had never been a religious person. She’d struggled with the idea that God let her mom die, let her kids spend so much time in hospitals, worried they’d lose the only parent they had. But since the accident, since she experienced the impossible, she’d wondered if there wasn’t some greater plan to everything.
This morning, she woke up with a need to find out, to go searching for any meaning in all of this pain. She sat in her Honda outside the Gulf City Chapel. There were other churches in town, but none so beautiful with its bright pink and yellow gardens, pillars of white stone, and a great plaza where people gathered.
“Are we going to get out, Mom?” Evelyn undid her seatbelt and climbed forward between the seats, falling into the passenger side with a laugh.
“Give her time, Ev.” Owen huffed in exasperation. “She’s obviously thinking of running.”
Evelyn glared at her brother. “Why would Mom run? It’s just a building.”
“Because of him. Duh.”
“Don’t say duh.” She looked at Liz. “Right, Mom? He shouldn’t say duh. And why would Mom run from church because of that guy? That’s stupid.”
“Mom, she called me stupid.”
“No, I said the words out of your mouth were stupid.”
Liz squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for just a moment of quiet.
Owen leaned forward between the seats. “It’s because he was obviously an angel.”
Evelyn’s jaw dropped open. “Mom, was your boyfriend an angel? Like with wings and stuff?”
“Probably at some point.” Liz rubbed her eyes, thinking back to Nick’s early movies before realizing her kids would take that the wrong way. “No, he wasn’t an angel, and we aren’t running.” Shoving open her door, she got out, waiting for the kids to follow her. They squabbled until Liz shushed them.
The service had already begun by the time they entered the chapel and found seats in the back. Bentley Drake was the young pastor who’d taken over the year before, but it wasn’t until right then that Liz realized who else he was.
The man Nick hit in the accident. Pastor Drake hadn’t ended up in a coma. He didn’t get to live in some strange, otherworldly place, but he had suffered many injuries. And yet, he spoke with a calmness, a conviction that showed his unwavering faith.
Liz didn’t hear much of what was said. She didn’t know the hymns or the responsive readings, but she watched him, marveled at his belief. What would it be like to have so much trust in something?
The service ended, and a familiar woman stopped at the end of their pew. “Liz.” She smiled, eyeing the kids. “I’m so happy you three have joined us.”
“Mom almost ran away,” Evelyn said.
