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After a Saturday-afternoon attempt—and failure—to speak with Redd, Mark knew it was sunglasses-off time. No matter what happened with his relationship with his father, he had to let the town of Corinthia know that Mark Ryker was a changed man. And that he owed that change to the grace of God.
So on Sunday morning, he put away the sunglasses and donned the one suit he’d packed—more out of habit than because he thought he’d need it. He drove his rental car to the small church his mom had dragged Mark and Matt to when they were children.
Growing up, their dad had worked all the time and their mother had taken charge of raising the kids and seeing to their religious upbringing. Of course, Matt, the sweet, obedient child, had gone to church willingly. Mark had been another story.
He hoped his mother was looking down from heaven, seeing that her insistence and persistence had given him a foundation to fall back on years later, after his life fell apart. After he hit rock bottom and realized he could either die, or he could ask for help to climb out from under the guilt, anger and self-destructive behavior.
As the church came into sight, the thought of how far he’d come nearly overwhelmed him. He blinked back tears and, for probably the thousandth time, thanked God he hadn’t gotten addicted to the alcohol he’d used to numb the pain. And that he’d hit bottom while at the New Hope Mission. With God’s help, the staff and volunteers at the shelter had saved Mark’s life.
The white steeple of the Corinthia Church loomed bright and welcoming. Mark parked and approached the old redbrick building. As he walked in the door, the organist struck up the hymn “Amazing Grace.”
How appropriate. He had to smile at God’s sense of humor. With that smile locked in place, he searched for familiar faces.
Of course, the first person he saw was Hannah with her four children. And another woman beside her who—
He stopped in his tracks, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. The woman was Hannah’s mother, Donna Williams.
Hannah didn’t look up. She was busy whispering—fussing over the two youngest kids. As he forced himself to continue down the aisle, he vaguely noted neither husband had attended. He would need to make time to speak with Donna, to apologize to her, as well. Maybe after the service.
As if Donna were a bloodhound smelling trouble, she looked right at him. It took her about two heartbeats to recognize him, but then her eyes flared wide. She froze in place, staring, her eyes lasering fury his direction. Her face reddened, and he feared she might explode with a torrent of words. Words she’d probably wanted to say to him years ago.
He moved on, hoping to avert a scene with Donna. When he glanced to the right, old Mr. Jay from the bank gave a polite nod. Then Mark spotted his dad up front in what used to be his mom’s favorite spot, next to the organ. So he has come around and now attends church. This eased some of Mark’s fears, and he started down the aisle toward Redd.
But about halfway, he stopped. What was he thinking? This was not the setting to approach his dad again. He would embarrass him. So he turned to the back to find a seat.
A dumb move that meant he had to face everyone he’d passed.
Gabe Reynolds, who’d gone to high school with Mark, sat with a teenage girl and a woman Mark didn’t recognize. The woman, pretty, pregnant and apparently his wife, smiled kindly. Gabe merely nodded.
Two rows farther, Miss Ann Sealy, one of his favorite people from Corinthia, sat with a young man who looked familiar. Maybe her grandson. She waved but had a blank look, as if trying to place him. He’d thought of all the people in town, she would’ve been the one to give him a profuse welcome.
His chest tightened as he realized how few people would even know him now. And of those who did, how they might view him with distrust.
Shame scalded Mark’s face as he searched for the closest available seat. As he was sitting, he heard a commotion—Donna yanking her purse off the pew and stomping toward the door. Right before she exited, she glared at him.
After the door banged closed, he couldn’t help but look at Hannah. She stared after her mother, mouth covered, eyes wide. When she turned to him, her hand dropped and eyes narrowed. Her scowl said she blamed him for the outburst. He could imagine her thoughts. How dare you darken the doors of our church?
Well, the Williamses had spoken. Mark figured others might also. Probably wouldn’t matter that he was a new creature in Christ. How could the people of Corinthia ever see beyond the reckless boy who’d caused his brother’s death, hurt Sydney Williams and then skipped town?
He tried to focus on the service, but couldn’t get beyond the fact he was an outsider in his own hometown and might never be able to make amends. Yet God’s Word and the music penetrated the worry. He eventually relaxed into the pew, felt God’s peace wash over him. This was where God wanted him. He wouldn’t give up.
After the service, Mark strode toward the front to catch his dad before he left. When Mark reached the end of the pew, he waited for Redd to look up, to ask him to sit so they could talk. Who was he kidding? His dad raised his chin and stared straight ahead.
May as well have slapped up a sign that said Not Welcome Here. Still, he had to take a chance. “I’m glad you’re attending church, Dad. Mom would be pleased.”
Redd grabbed the pew in front of him for support as he stood. Then he looked at Mark with utter scorn. “Your mother and I worshipped together here for years. But then, you wouldn’t know that, would you?” He limped away, his squared shoulders a shield against his wayward son.
The jab hurt. Physical pain knifed Mark’s chest.
No, he wouldn’t have known that. And he would regret it the rest of his life. Would regret that he hadn’t come home sooner. That he hadn’t come before his mom died.
He rubbed his chest, trying to ease the pressure. Don’t go there. Think of the future.
Of course, he had no idea how to approach his father again in that future. Maybe the pastor could help. While Mark waited for the crowd to thin, he shook a few hands, drawing encouragement.
Miss Ann approached with a grin on her face. “Welcome home, Mark.” She’d aged over the years, but her sky-blue eyes and extreme Southern drawl hadn’t changed a bit. “You caught me by surprise this morning. Didn’t recognize you at first.”
“Thanks, Miss Ann. It’s good to be here.” An exaggeration. But it was nice to be following God’s lead for a change.
“If you don’t have plans for lunch, please join me and my grandson, Daniel.” She pointed across the room at the man who’d been sitting with her. Then she puffed out her chest proudly. “He came to visit me this weekend and to meet with Pastor Phil. He’s graduating from seminary soon.”
“I wish him well.” Touched by her kind invitation, he considered it briefly. But he had business to attend to. “I’d love to have lunch, but I need to speak with the pastor myself.”
“Oh, you’ll like Phil. He’s been here a few years and is a good counselor.” She suddenly reached out and hugged him. “You take care, now. Your mama would be so happy to see you at church.”
He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the same sweet perfume his mom had always worn—White Shoulders. Sudden tears stung the back of his eyes. He pulled away, cleared his throat. “Thanks, Miss Ann.” He waved and hurried outside. No use in letting memories get him all choked up. No time for regrets, for worrying about something he couldn’t change.
“Good to have you with us today.” The pastor, who looked to be in his late forties with graying temples and a few smile lines around his eyes, stood alone on the church steps wiping perspiration from his brow with a handkerchief. He tucked it in his pocket and held out his hand. “I’m Phil Hartley.”
“Nice to meet you, Reverend Hartley. I’m Mark Ryker.”
“Oh, I see the likeness to Redd.” Kind eyes encouraged Mark to speak up. It was as if the pastor could tell he’d been hanging around. “Please call me Phil.”
“Thanks, Phil. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. Let’s get out of this hot sun and go to my office.” He led the way through the sanctuary and along a hallway decorated with kids’ artwork, all centered on the theme of Jonah and the big fish. Apparently, the church still held vacation Bible school in the summer.
A sudden memory of arguing with his mother about helping with Bible school made him cringe. He’d told her he and Matt would rather work with their dad at the hardware store than with those wild kids.
She’d seemed hurt but had relented.
If only he’d known then what that rebellion would cost. If only he’d known how a rickety fishing boat capsizing in a pathetically small lake could change his family forever.
“Have a seat.” Phil gestured to a grouping of three chairs set up in the corner of the room, obviously for meetings or counseling sessions.
“I won’t keep you long. But I need a favor.” He proceeded to tell Phil a little about his family background.
“You had a twin who died?” Phil’s head tilted as if he was confused. Apparently, no one had ever told him the story.
Mark nodded. “It was my fault. I took him fishing, the two of us alone, knowing he couldn’t swim. He died of complications from the near-drowning.”
Pain filled Phil’s eyes, and it caused an echoing pain in Mark. “Oh, man. I’m sorry.”
He hadn’t talked about this in years. Had to force words that didn’t want to come. “My parents tried not to blame me. But I knew they did. And I buried the pain with alcohol. With rebellion. And unfortunately, dragged Sydney Williams into it.”
“So that’s the reason for Donna Williams’s animosity toward Redd?”
With a wince, he confirmed it. “We started dating, and her family wasn’t happy about it. I admit I’d fallen into a bad group of friends. Tried to pull her away from them when I saw she had a drinking problem. But it was too late.”
“So what happened?”
“I ran. Just wanted to escape it all. Took off and didn’t look back for years.” By the time he tried to make contact, his mother had died. Too little, too late. The story of his life.
His old life.
Mark forced the corners of his mouth upward. “But I’m in a better place now. Found God again. And felt led to come home to make amends.”
“Did you and your parents ever make peace?”
“No. Now Mom is gone. Dad won’t speak to me. And—” He snapped his mouth shut before he broke down and embarrassed himself.
With fingers steepled under his chin, Phil nodded. “So you’ve tried to apologize to your dad?”
“Yes. I’m here because I need your help in reaching him.”
Phil leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles. “I know Redd’s a stubborn man, but I think he’ll come around.”
Mark’s dad had always been stubborn. Stubbornly driven to build his hardware business. Stubbornly driven to punish Mark for Matt’s death. “In case he doesn’t, I want to at least help him financially. Did you know he’s renting out his house to the Hughes family?”
“Yes. Also heard he’s in a bit of a financial pinch. His store has had a rough time since the mega home- improvement store opened up not twenty miles from here.”
Oh, man. He hadn’t heard that news. “I’d like to make a deposit to his checking account. But I’m afraid Hannah Hughes will balk. She seems protective of him and…well…she doesn’t think much of me.”
“I don’t know how I can help. We’ve already tried to give him assistance after his hip surgery, and he was offended.” Phil shook his head. “Yet Redd’s continued to donate funds to our youth program even as he’s struggled.”
Out of nowhere, Mark’s throat constricted. It seemed he didn’t know his dad at all anymore. Had God changed Redd, too?
“Stubborn, proud man.” Mark stood and walked across the office to stare at a painting on the wall—more to distract himself than to admire the art. “If I give you cash, could you take it to the bank, tell Hannah you’ve received an anonymous donation and ask her to deposit it into his checking account?”
“No harm in trying.”
The tension that had invaded Mark’s shoulders the moment he’d approached his dad that morning eased away on a big exhaled breath. He turned back to face the pastor. “Thanks, Phil.”
“This is generous of you, you know. I hope your dad realizes the man you’ve become.”
Phil might think the gift was generous, but Mark owed his dad so much more. If all went well tomorrow, maybe he could set up an arrangement with Phil. A way to continue helping.
But would Redd accept the help if he found out Mark was the donor?
“Okay, I’m it. You better hide really well,” Hannah called to her children Sunday after lunch as they squealed and scattered around the grassy front yard. She covered her eyes and started counting slowly.
The past couple of years, Hannah had only wanted two things. A bigger home for her kids—check—and the certainty that each of her children felt important and special.
But being a single working mom made that difficult. She struggled to make time for each one. Had dropped her volunteer position with the church youth group. Made Sundays family time.
“Don’t peek,” Tony called from somewhere behind her.
“Nine and a half. Ten! Ready or not, here I come.” She opened her eyes just as Emily’s head disappeared behind the rocking chair on the porch.
She grinned as she started rattling bushes and jumping behind trees. “Where is everyone?”
A giggle sounded at the side of the house. Within five minutes, she had found everyone, saving Emily for last.
Redd, who’d started closing Hometown Hardware on Sundays a few years earlier, gave a wave as he lumbered across the yard, his uneven gait making him rock side to side. His graying hair had once been dark blond like Mark’s. And he’d probably been as handsome as his son in his younger days. But his wife’s death six years ago had aged him. Deep wrinkles formed brackets around his mouth and frown lines between his eyes. The smile that lit his face when he saw the kids gave Hannah an inkling of what he’d looked like years before.
When Emily spotted him, she squealed and ran to hug him, dark hair flying in the wind. Eric followed closely and grabbed on to Redd’s other leg.
He hobbled across the yard, pulling giggling kids along with him. “Well, now, I seem to feel a bit heavy today. Must’ve eaten too much lunch.”
Becca, in her standard pink T-shirt and denim shorts, grabbed her belly and doubled over, laughing. “Mr. Redd is so silly.”
Tony, usually reserved, actually smiled. “He’s teasing, Becca.”
Her children loved Redd. And the man seemed to enjoy them, as well. In the beginning, she hadn’t been too sure about their extremely close neighbor relationship. With the Ryker-Williams family history, she’d worried how he might feel about them being there. But from the beginning, he’d been solicitous, almost as if he still felt guilty for his son’s actions.
Admittedly, she’d felt awkward at first. But she’d come around to the fact that Redd had been as hurt by Mark as her family had.
“Okay, you two. Don’t hurt his hip. Let go of Mr. Redd so we can talk.”
The twins pouted—for about five seconds. Then they raced off, calling Becca and Tony to come play another round of hide-and-seek.
Redd looked off into the distance, but his eyes didn’t seem to focus on anything in particular. “I guess you’ve seen that Mark has returned to town.”
Her stomach dropped at the mention of his name. What if Mark had talked him into moving back in the family home? “Yes.”
“I’d rather him not know I’m renting out the house, if there’s any way around it.”
“I’m afraid he came by yesterday.”
He ran a hand over his chin, rasping against whiskers, looking troubled.
She gently touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
His chin rose as he watched the kids. “I’m fine.” Then he looked into her eyes. “You?”
He tried to act cool on the outside, yet he had to be a mess on the inside. Meanwhile she stewed, worried and angry. “I’m okay. Shocked, but okay.”
“Still can’t figure out what he’s doing here. Says he wanted to come apologize. But now he’s hanging around.”
Yes, it was unnerving, to say the least. And she felt sure he’d stayed to try to uproot her and the kids so his dad could move back into the house.
“He seems to be concerned that you’re in the garage apartment.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and watched him closely for his response.
He shook his head and huffed. “I’m fine over there. Don’t worry about me.”
Yes, but could Mark change his mind? “Well, I guess we can hope Mark’s motives are pure.”
Redd gave a snort but didn’t comment further. “I sure hope your sister doesn’t find out he’s back, even if it is just for a visit.”
