Page 74 of The Baxters
Landon had said something else, another few lines that played in her mind again.Christians aren’t perfect. They’re just broken people who know they need a Savior. Because we’re such a mess.
Growing up she had never thought of Christianity like that. She had always done her best to be good. Church on Sunday morning, time during the week to help her family. And if she told a lie or went against her parents in any way, it wouldn’t be long before she’d apologize.
Make things right.
So she’d be perfect again.
That’s what she thought it meant to have faith in God. Just enough perfection so a person could be better than everyone else. Not quite arrogant, but definitely critical. Judgmental. Like Luke had been—until after the choking incident, anyway.
Again, she considered the idea. Could it be that Christians really were just broken, everyday people? And the only thing that set them apart was their faith in Christ to forgive them? To accept His grace and His offer of heaven?
The idea seemed unlikely, but it stayed with her.
She remembered the night, every minute with Landon. His face filled her mind and heart. His wordscomforted her and his kiss stayed with her. The familiar passion between them stirred her again. No matter how hard she tried to stop herself, she would always love Landon Blake.
His final words on the subject came to her one more time.All I’m saying is ask. Ask God to show you if His grace is enough. If there’s still something very good that can come from all this. Other than Cole. Because every baby is a miracle…
Her thoughts swirled and collided until she couldn’t take them anymore. All she could picture was her baby boy down the hall, asleep in his crib. Alive… still alive.
And suddenly she threw the sheets back and padded across her bedroom floor and into the hall. In no time she was at Cole’s door, and she opened it without making a sound. As she reached his crib, he stirred and looked up at her.
“Mama.” He started to cry… and she did, too.
What was this? He had called her “Mama”! For the very first time! She picked him up and grabbed his blanket and pacifier. Then she carried him back to the chair and sat with him, rocking him. “Mama’s here, Cole. I’m right here.”
He had started babbling lately, but he had never said her name. She’d never taught him to say it. But here… in the wee hours of the morning with a voice still raspy from earlier, Cole had called her by name.
“Mama loves you, baby.” She whispered to him over and over until he fell asleep again. Then she closed hereyes and leaned back in the chair. Because this was her baby, her precious son.
And she would hold him as long as she wanted.
FOR THE PASTweek, Ashley had kept her word. She’d gone out with her art friends just a couple times, and she only took Cole to her parents’ house when it was absolutely necessary. And always… always she was the one to put him to bed—whether at her house or her parents’.
Other times, grocery shopping or a trip to the bank, Ashley brought Cole with her. She couldn’t get enough of him. He was trying to talk more, saying her name constantly. As if even he understood that something had changed.
Because it had. Ashley truly cared more deeply than before.
That Friday morning, Ashley had thought about asking her mom to watch Cole. She had something she wanted to do, somewhere she needed to visit. And at first she didn’t think Cole should go.
But when Friday dawned, Ashley made up her mind. Cole would come. Maybe it was better that he did. She dressed him in a lightweight gray jumper and darling canvas shoes, and the two of them set out.
On the way, she stopped at the grocery store and bought a bouquet of purple carnations. Always purple carnations. The color of Jefferson Bennett’s wrestling jersey at Bloomington High.
The cemetery wasn’t far from the edge of town, and Ashley knew the way. Before the accident, she’d had no reason to go there. Since then, though, she had come occasionally. More during the first year—four or five times. Now it had been six months since she’d stopped by.
She parked near his tombstone, unbuckled Cole from his car seat and held him on her hip with one arm. With the other, she grabbed the flowers from the front passenger seat.Okay, God.She looked up at the sunny sky overhead.I’m doing this. I’m taking Landon’s advice. I hope you can hear me.
“Mama.” Cole put his hand on her face and pulled at her hair.
“Yes, baby. Mama’s here.” She kissed his cheek and snuggled him close. Then she walked along the cement path until she spotted Jefferson’s grave marker.
Deep breath,she told herself. No matter how many times she came here, the visit was never easy. But she had to do this today. She was going to ask God to show Himself to her—not in random miracles or wondrous events, but in the deep places of her soul.
She stopped directly in front of his tall stone and read the words again. The way she did every time she was here.
Jefferson Bennett, forever 16.
Loving son, best brother, loyal friend.
