This Side of Heaven Page 24

  But the child took a step back and shook her head. “No.” She scrunched up her face and began to cry. “No, he can’t be in heaven. That’s too far away.” She shook her head harder, faster. “He’s my Prince Charming, and he was going to come for me and . . . and . . .” She turned around and ran across the sand to the swings. She flung herself onto the farthest one, grabbed the chains hard, and hung her head halfway to her lap.

  Annie caught a look of pity from Nate and Lindsay. The two of them stood and started walking along a path in the other direction. They could hear the details later. These next few minutes were for Annie and Savannah alone. Annie stood, and as she trudged through the sand toward her granddaughter she wore her son’s loss like a heavy coat.

  He should have been here right now, to take Savannah in his arms and soothe away her hurt and sadness. Annie stopped a few feet from the girl, and again she knew she’d remember the sight of Savannah—sitting on the swing weeping, her heart breaking—for as long as she lived. Although she was only seven years old, the child understood the significance of Josh being in heaven.

  Annie took the swing beside her and waited several minutes until Savannah’s angry sobs eventually subsided. Finally, she sniffed and turned her red eyes to Annie. “Grandpa Ted told me sometimes things don’t go the way we want this side of heaven.”

  “That’s true.” Annie wasn’t sure who Grandpa Ted was, but she had a feeling he had been Maria’s father. “This side of heaven can be pretty sad sometimes.”

  “So here’s what I want to know.” She sniffed again. “How do I get to that side of heaven? So I can be with my daddy?”

  Annie couldn’t talk through her tears. That side of heaven. If she could take Savannah there now she would. “Ah, Savannah, baby. If only there were a way to make that happen.”

  “Grandpa Ted said there was.” She had fresh tears on her cheeks, but her anger was gone now. In its place was a sad desperation, a last-ditch hope that she might somehow find a way around the terrible news. She wiped her nose. “He told me if I loved Jesus, then one day I’d go to heaven, too. So then I’d be on that side with my daddy.”

  “Your grandpa Ted was right.” Annie brushed her wrists across her cheeks. “One day you’ll be on that side of heaven with your daddy and your grandpa Ted and— and all of us who love Jesus. Just not until you’re much, much older.”

  “But”—her voice broke and she looked smaller than she had an hour ago—“my daddy wasn’t old. So how come he’s on that side of heaven and I’m here on this side?”

  Annie swallowed a sob before it could consume her. “I don’t know. I’ve wondered that same thing.”

  When Savannah saw that Annie didn’t have any more of an answer than that, she squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head again. “I was going to live with him, and he was going to give me hugs, and . . . and . . .” Her tears came harder, and it was difficult to understand her. “He was going to take me to his house and bring me to school and push me on the swings and race me down the slide. And everything was going to be happily ever after.” She lifted the saddest eyes and looked deep into Annie’s face. “What about that?”

  “I’m sorry, Savannah.” Annie reached out her hand once more, and this time Savannah stood, and after a few seconds of inner struggle she came to Annie and flung her arms tight around her neck.

  “I wanted to meet him so bad, Grandma Annie.” Savannah nuzzled her face in close against Annie’s neck. “Now I have to wait for heaven.”

  “Yes.” Annie let her tears come. “We both have to.”

  They hugged for a long time, until finally Savannah pulled back. She searched Annie’s face. “That’s why you came, isn’t it? To tell me my daddy was in heaven?”

  “Yes, honey.” Annie didn’t want to mention the rest. “And because we wanted to meet you and tell you about your daddy. He loved you very much.” Annie had made a copy of Josh’s journal. It was in an envelope in the car. “Before we go I have something for you. Lots and lots of letters your daddy wrote to you from the time you were a baby until the day before he died.”

  “Why—why didn’t he come see me before he went to heaven? Before it was too late?”

  The afternoon sun was slipping behind the trees that lined the playground, and the temperature was falling. Annie wasn’t sure how much to say. “He wanted to, baby. Every day he wanted to.”

  The pieces seemed to come together slowly but surely in Savannah’s mind. She thought for a long time, and then she bit her lip. “It was ’cause of my mama, right? She didn’t let him come, because she threw his picture in the garbage.”

  “That’s right, Savannah.” She didn’t want to turn the girl against her mother, especially when the woman was most likely all she would ever have in the years ahead. But the truth needed to be spoken. “Your mother didn’t want Josh to be a part of your life.”

  “Josh?”

  “That was your daddy’s name. Joshua David Warren.” Savannah repeated his name slowly. “I like Prince Charming Daddy better.”

  Annie smiled. Her tears were drying in the late afternoon breeze. “I like that, too.”

  “My mama shouldn’t have kept him away from me.”

  “No.” Annie ran her hand along the back of Savannah’s head. “But she can’t keep him away in heaven. So you’ll always have that to look forward to.”

  They talked a few more minutes about heaven and how Josh had loved Jesus very much. Then they met up with Nate and Lindsay, and Savannah hugged each of them. “Grandma Annie told me about my daddy. I’m sorry he went to heaven so soon.”

  “Us, too.” Nate held her hand as they walked to the car. “We miss him every day.”

  When they got back to the foster home, Savannah found Josh’s picture on the sofa where she’d left it. “Is it okay if I still keep this picture? So I can think about my daddy and what it’s like on that side of heaven?”

  “Yes, sweetie.” Lindsay hadn’t said much, but now she knelt near Savannah and touched the girl’s strawberry-blond hair. “My brother wanted to be your daddy so much. I want you to know that.”

  “He is my daddy. It doesn’t matter if it takes a long time to meet him.” Savannah was accepting the situation a little better now. “Plus, I have my picture, so he’ll always be close by, even if he’s in heaven.”

  “Right.” Lindsay kissed Savannah’s cheek. “We have to go now. But I want you to remember us, okay?”

  Savannah moved on to Nate and hugged him, too. But as she pulled away she looked confused by the good-byes. She turned to Annie. “Are you leaving, too?”

  “I have to, honey. We live in Colorado, on the other side of the country.”

  Her eyes lit up, but not like they’d done earlier in the afternoon. “How ’bout I go with you? My mama doesn’t want me.” She glanced at Nate. “She told me in the restaurant. She doesn’t want to be a mama anymore.”

  The admission ripped at Annie and made her want to pack up the girl’s things and take her home. Let the courts figure out a way to make the arrangement legal. If Maria didn’t want her daughter, then Annie and Nate would be happy to step in. But Maria definitely wanted her daughter. As soon as she was sober, she would certainly come back to her senses. There could be no settlement money if she gave up Savannah. Thomas figured Maria and her attorney would pull out all the stops so that Maria could regain custody and get her hands on the money.

  Annie gave her granddaughter one more long hug. What she was about to say next was only what she had to say, so that Savannah wouldn’t fear the life that lay ahead of her. “Listen to me, honey.” She searched Savannah’s eyes, the eyes that were so like Josh’s. “Your mother didn’t mean what she said. She’s sick right now, but when she gets better she’ll make things right with you.”

  “Know something?” Savannah’s voice was too soft to hear across the room.

  “What?” Annie touched her finger to the tip of her granddaughter’s nose.

  “My mama doesn’t love Je
sus. She told me she doesn’t believe like Grandpa Ted.”

  Another blow, not that Annie was surprised. “Well, honey, maybe one day you’ll help her believe.” They needed to go. One afternoon was all Child Protective Services would allow given that Savannah was in emergency foster care. And now their plane was set to leave in just three hours. Annie cradled her hand around the back of Savannah’s head. “I’m going to ask Jesus every day that we have the chance to see you again. Okay?”

  Savannah nodded. She looked shy again, her expression a mix of hurt and disappointment and a sorrow that seemed all too familiar. “I’ll ask Him, too.” She took a step back and gave each of them a little wave—Annie last. Then she hugged the picture of Josh to her chest. “Thank you for telling me about my daddy.”

  Annie had brought the envelope from the car and now she handed it to Savannah. “Can you read, sweetie?”

  “Not yet.” Again there was shame in her voice. “Mama said I could learn later. Right now we have to beg for money.”

  Anger threatened to taint the moment. Annie gritted her teeth and made a mental note to talk to Thomas about Savannah’s living conditions. If the courts returned the child to her mother then the entire system was flawed. She put the thought out of her head for now. “Inside that envelope are the letters I told you about.” Her face softened and she squeezed Savannah’s hand once more. “The letters from your daddy. Keep them with your picture of him, so that one day you can read for yourself how much he loved you.”

  “How much he still loves me.” Savannah held the photo tighter to herself. “People can love all the way from heaven.”

  “Of course.” Annie kissed the top of Savannah’s head. “Inside the envelope is our phone number. In case you ever need anything.”

  Savannah nodded, but the confusion in her eyes told them she didn’t really understand. She couldn’t possibly have understood how far away Colorado was, or why her daddy’s family was leaving so soon after finding her. When Annie couldn’t take another moment of the good-bye, she turned, left the house, and walked to the car. Nate and Lindsay followed, and the last image they saw as they pulled away for the airport was Savannah’s sweet pixie face in the front window of the foster parents’ house. Marti was beside her and Savannah wasn’t somber or pouting or indifferent.

  She had one hand raised to the glass and she was sobbing.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Back in the Springs the days passed slowly, each one drenched in the sadness of Josh’s absence. Every few afternoons, Annie called Thomas for an update, and one week after their return home from the quick visit to see Savannah, Thomas passed on word that a local judge had ruled Maria fit to regain custody of the child. No surprise, Annie knew. But when she read in Scripture that week about God’s faithfulness, she remembered the song at her son’s funeral service and the little girl on the other side of the country praying for a happy ending, and she had to wonder.

  God had a plan, no doubt, but in this case she was better off not trying to make sense of it.

  Annie debated the situation with Thomas, because she needed to talk to someone about the insanity of it. “The woman told Savannah she didn’t want to be a mother anymore.”

  “I know.”

  “She hit her on the face in front of a crowd of people.”

  “The judge was aware of that.”

  “So how, Thomas . . . how can they overlook her warrants and the fact that she begs for money and return Savannah to that environment?”

  Thomas could only release a sigh that sounded drenched in futility. “I wish I could explain it, Annie. I’m sorry.”

  The outcome for Savannah was exactly as they feared it might be, and as the day of the settlement neared, Annie was sure that Maria would do just what they expected— flee the city and any ties to the court or to the Warren family, most likely in case she might have to share the money if she kept in touch.

  Now, with each day that passed, she not only missed Josh, but his little Savannah, too. She would always be glad for the few hours they’d had with the child, but it made the grief she and Nate and Lindsay shared even stronger than before. Annie kept her word and prayed every day that Jesus would allow them the chance to meet again, to know each other. But Jesus hadn’t let Savannah see her daddy, and now it didn’t look like the rest of them would ever get to see Savannah again, either.

  The settlement came in late November. After three years of updates, depositions, hearings, and meetings, Thomas called with the news they’d been waiting for. The decision had been made. The judge had analyzed the accident, the damage caused by the insurance company’s client, and the fact that Josh’s need for pain medication had ultimately led to his death. Instead of the two million dollars Thomas asked for, the judge ruled that the insurance company pay out $2.3 million.

  The case was a landslide victory for Josh’s estate, and one of Lindsay’s colleagues at the Gazette covered the story.

  A few days after the article appeared, Annie spent an afternoon in what had become a new kind of routine. She brought two Starbucks soy lattes to Carl Joseph’s apartment and talked for an hour with him and Daisy.

  “We saw the story about Josh.” Carl Joseph pointed to the bulletin board on his kitchen wall. “Daisy cut it out for me.”

  “Yeah, but”—Daisy wrinkled her nose—“it wasn’t long enough. It didn’t say that Josh was a hero, and Cody says that’s bad journalism.”

  “Because bad journalism isn’t good.” Carl Joseph shook his head. “You should’ve written the story, Annie.”

  She wished she could have. But what she knew now about Josh would have never fit in a single newspaper feature. She could have written a book about her son’s life, and once in a while she almost convinced herself she should do just that, even if their family and Josh’s friends were the only ones who ever read it. She could always use the book as a reason to find Savannah again, years from now.

  After her visit with Carl Joseph and Daisy, Annie went to the local Whole Foods and picked up the same items she’d been buying every week since the end of October: a half gallon of milk, a loaf of bread, two small containers of strawberry yogurt, a bag of frozen salmon fillets, a bag of rice, and an assortment of fruit and vegetables. The food fit neatly into two grocery bags, and Annie carried them easily up the steps to Ethel’s apartment.

  “Hello, dear.” The woman smiled as she opened the door. She took the groceries, clucking her tongue about how Annie didn’t need to do this and how she’d be happy to pay for the food if only Annie would let her. “Have I ever told you,” Ethel said as Annie set the groceries down on the small kitchen table, “every time I open the door and see you standing on the porch with my groceries, for just a short minute I can see Josh again. The two of you have the same eyes.”

  Ethel said the same thing each time Annie came, and always Annie left with a promise to be back the next week. Not on Saturday, but on Monday—the day she’d set aside to keep in touch with the people she’d met because of Josh. Today she had more than her usual stops to make. She drove across town to a small café at the foot of Black Forest. The meeting was set to take place at one of the tables near the window. It was the first week in December, and snow was forecast for that night.

  Annie parked and thought about all she wanted to say, all she never would have had the chance to say if the person she was meeting hadn’t pursued this private, early dinner, hadn’t been willing to drive in from Denver. Annie spotted the young woman as soon as she entered the restaurant.

  Becky Wheaton raised her hand so Annie would see her. As she reached the booth, Becky stood and gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for coming. I—I felt bad asking.”

  Annie took her seat opposite Becky and once she was situated she reached across the table and briefly took hold of Becky’s hands. “That’s why I wanted to come here today. I think we have a few things to talk about.”

  “I thought you’d think it was awkward, sitting down with me after all these years.” />
  A sad smile tugged at Annie’s lips. “That’s one of the things Josh taught me. The only awkward thing between people who care about each other is missing out on the chance to sit down and talk things out.”

  “Yeah.” Becky was wearing her blond hair shorter these days. She was already sipping a cup of coffee. “I see what you mean.”

  They ordered dinner, and then Becky got to the point. “Ever since Josh’s death, I’ve been buried under, I don’t know, a sense of guilt. Like maybe if I’d stayed with Josh none of this ever would’ve happened.”

  They were the same thoughts Annie had experienced at first, but not in a long time. “You did what you had to do, Becky. No one faults you for that. Josh certainly didn’t blame you.” Annie had come today with one goal in mind—to give Becky the freedom to move on with her life. But first they had to talk through the things Becky was feeling.

  “I asked him to stop smoking and stay in college.” She set her coffee cup down and leaned on her forearms. “But every night I fall asleep thinking I never should’ve expected that of him.” Her eyes glistened. “I loved him so much. I still haven’t ever felt that way about anyone else.”

  Annie had wondered whether she should share with Becky just how much Josh had still cared for her. As long as Becky was being painfully honest, Annie figured she might as well tell the whole story, too. She settled back into the booth. “Josh didn’t blame you, Becky. He respected all you wanted from him. He stopped smoking a few years after he moved to Denver. I wasn’t sure you knew that.”

  Her eyes showed her surprise. “I had no idea.”

  “He heard your engagement fell through, and he was hoping to get his settlement and open a business. He needed back surgery and he was trying to lose the last forty pounds he’d gained. But once he had all that figured out, he was planning to call you.” She studied the young woman across from her. If things had been different, she might have been her daughter-in-law.

  “I—I didn’t know any of that.”