Love Lifted Me (37 page)

Max turned on the light.

“What are you doing?” Jade squinted as her eyes adjusted from dark to light.

“I was saving it for a surprise, but since you can't wear it—” He ducked into the closet. “Of course, you weren't pregnant when I had the idea.” Max emerged with the little black dress swinging from a pink satin hanger. “Happy late anniversary. I've been so busy with football we never got to celebrate.”

“Oh, Max.” Jade scrambled out of bed, prancing across the cold floor. “How did you . . . you? You're the one Brenda promised it to?”

“You talked about it like, I don't know, it was the holy grail. I felt bad I cost you the chance to own the dress, so I asked Brenda if she could look into it.”

“Max, she went to Mrs. Vance's for Sunday tea all fall. Awful tea according to her too. Just for a chance at the closet.”

“She did it for you, Jade.”

“She did it for you, Max.” Jade slipped her hand the length of the dress. “I love it. Simply love it.” She thanked Max with a tender kiss. “I think this is about the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.”

“Better than the diamond wedding bracelet I gave you?”

“Okay, the second best thing . . .” Jade held up the dress. “A real Coco Chanel.” Joy bubbled in her chest. “What a great end to a great day. Hey, this will motivate me to get back into shape after the girls are . . .” She cocked her ear. “Do you hear music?” She hung the dress in the closet and slipped on her robe and slippers.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Max tugged on a sweatshirt and worked his feet into his sneakers.

From the shadows of the living room, Jade watched the lawn fill with flickering firelight—torches and lamps. “Oh, Max, you have to see this.”

“I'm seeing it.”

Cars streamed down the road, turning into the drive, parking askew on the lawn. Players, parents, faculty, boosters, fans swarmed the house.

The pep band gathered to one side. But lining the front was the entire Warrior starting team.

As the music started, soft and brassy, Max grabbed Jade's hand and led her to the porch. The November air was thick with frost and emotion. It had to be nearly midnight.

The tiki torch brigade grew wider. More cars. More grateful fans.

“Coach, Coach, Coach, Coach, Coach . . .” The chant chased and echoed, rising loud, bold.

“Give it up for Coach Benson.” Cheers, whistles, and applause.

Max moved to the first step. “Evening, all. What's going on?”

Jade leaned against him. A yard full of red and gold birds. Only the kind that played football on Friday nights.

“We just want to say thanks, Coach.” Calvin stepped forward. “For chasing us all down, especially me, and giving us a chance.”

“You believed in us, Coach,” a voice called.

“You boys did it. You worked hard. And I couldn't have done it without Hines and Haley.” He motioned for the coaches to join him on the steps. “And all the volunteers.”

The volume from the band rose. Trumpets sounded a low, lingering note. The players linked arms and began to sing, gently swaying back and forth.

In hallowed halls, we remember you
Colby High, beacon of learned truth.

Chills skirted over Jade's skin, and not from the nip in the breeze. From the voices. From the hearts. Gathered on her lawn.

Max drew her close, the alma mater song vibrating in his chest.

In red and gold, we'll fight to win,
Return to your teachings, again and again.
So we sing to you, Colby High,
You're in our memories dear and nigh.
To you our loyalty we give,
To your victory, we'll always live.

As the last note rang out, Jade peered toward the stars, almost imagining that heaven paused to sing along.
Thank you, Jesus
.

Days and nights would come and go. Football seasons dawn and fade. But for these forty Warrior players, for the town, the school, Max and Jade, Hines and Haley, tonight would live in hearts forever.

Max's cheeks glistened in the firelight.

“Max?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we're looking at what God can do.”

Thirty-three

December 23rd
Whisper Hollow

The only sounds in the Blue Umbrella were Jade's breathing and the tapping echo of Lillabeth's footsteps on the hardwood as she came out of the storeroom.

Emptiness did that—caught the hollow sounds and echoed them across barren valley, barren rooms. Barren hearts. That's why valleys, hearts, and rooms needed to be filled with love.

“I guess that's everything.” Lillabeth slowed her progress through the empty shop. “Are you okay with all of this?” She adjusted the box in her arm and walked to where Jade waited in the center of the room. Where the sunspot always fell.

Today the spot was a pale winter white with Main Street Christmas lights falling across the hardwood in long colorful lines.

“Remember the Halloween we built a pumpkin display right here?” Jade tapped her booted foot against the floor.

“How could I forget? We had that great big pumpkin and we couldn't keep the kids from sitting on it.”

Jade surveyed the shop, hand resting on her rounding belly. “Lots of memories in these walls.”

“I grew up here, Jade. You helped me—” Lillabeth set the box on the floor and gathered Jade in a gripping, sobbing hug. “I'm going . . . to miss you. What am I going to do without you?”

“Oh, what am I going to do without you? My beautiful Lilla. You've been with me through it all. My right arm.” Jade cuddled her cheek against Lillabeth's silky hair and the scent of strawberries. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

For a long while, Jade held her friend, their affection speaking louder than words. Funny, this wise twenty-one-year-old was as much a mentor to her as she was a baby sister and a friend.

Lillabeth had turned down the gift of the shop. Aaron was finally being assigned stateside, and they were driving across the country to California in the New Year.

“You are a jewel and a joy to me, Lillabeth.” Jade's voice quivered. Her eyes welled up. “I don't know what I would've done without you this year. You were such a rock.”

“No, Jade, I owe you. I learned so much watching you.” Lilla brushed her hand across her cheeks. “About running a business, yes, but about running a life. I am in awe of how you took in Asa, forgave Max.” She shook her head, gazing toward the gray day outside the window. “How you embraced faith and love, let them change you. I'll never forget this year.”

“That makes two of us.” It was healing to share a laugh.

“I pray I never face a trial like you did, but if I do—”

“Don't model yourself after me, model yourself after Jesus. He's the only pure way.”

“I'm figuring that out. Aaron and I have been talking about church and faith, not wanting to just say we're Christians but actually
be
Christians.”

Jade brushed her fingers along the sleek strands of Lillabeth's hair, smoothing them over her shoulder. “You have so much life waiting for you. Put it in drive and go.”

“Preferably in a pink Cadillac?” She laughed and dried her cheeks again.

“With the top down, broken, and it snowing outside.”

Jade stepped back, her heart taut with ebbing and flowing emotions. But it'd been like that all month. Since she came back to the Hollow to put the Blue Umbrella up for sale and begin the process of bidding adieu to her old life in order to embrace her new one. “I'll see you tonight? Up at Max's parents'. You would not believe the party June has planned. It's fit for kings.”

“And queens?” Lillabeth stooped to pick up the box. “The queen of vintage.”

“No, the
Southern Life
headline said princess. I'm not a queen. Yet.” Jade curtseyed. “Did you get the antique jewel box?” She peered into the box.

“Yes, and your Christmas present. Thank you.” Lillabeth kissed Jade's cheek. “I'll be sure to wear it tonight. Whatever it is. Jade, what is it? Tell me.” Lilla squeezed Jade's arm.

“Forget it. Go home, open it. You'll see soon enough.”

“Is it something—”

“Go. Open it. You'll see.” Jade walked Lillabeth to the front door as Aaron pulled along the curb. “See you at eight.”

“I almost forgot how bossy you are. Hmmm . . .” Lillabeth started out the door, but paused. “It's snowing.” So it was. A light snow whispered from a covering of clouds and salted Main Street with wintery goodness. “Bye, Jade.”

Jade raised her hand. “See you, Lillabeth.” She would be the belle of the ball tonight in a vintage and oh-so-chic Chanel little black dress—accented by her sleek blond locks and porcelain skin.

She watched Aaron drive off. Jade stood alone in the Blue Umbrella. Max would be there soon.

When Jade had moved to Whisper Hollow, she came seeking peace. To find her place in the world, to discover her dreams. Had she known it would require charging through the gauntlet of life, unearthing shameful secrets and her painful past, she'd have never driven up the side of the mountain.

But, oh, she was so glad she did. Look what God had done. Gave her beauty for ashes. Exchanged her sorrows for joy, her fears for love.

For five years, she'd hovered under the protection of the Blue Umbrella. But now it was time to fold it up and move on. The rain had finally stopped.

One last time, Jade inhaled the warm, woodsy scent of the shop, the lingering wooly scent of vintage clothes, the tinge of fresh paint touch-up, the aroma of pine cleaner, and she listened for the final and last chords of her memories.

“I'll never forget you, Blue.”

The hinges of the shop's back door moaned and a drop of light hit the floor.

Max rounded the corner, dashing in his tailored, black wool coat and soft weave trousers. Snow dusted his dark hair.

“You ready, Jade-o?”

“I do believe I am.”

“Asa's in the car with Mom.” Max scouted out the shop, then regarded her.

“Is it hard?”

“If it wasn't, then my years here wouldn't have meant anything, would they?”

Max paced farther inside, the
clip-clap
of his shoes skirting over the hardwood. He looked like lawyer Max tonight. “I suppose not.”

“But better days are ahead. Is the judge ready?” Jade picked up her bag from the sales counter.

“He is. Are you?”

She grinned, nodding. “As I'll ever be.”

Once they'd decided to stay in Colby, she'd put both shops on the market and spread the word across her vintage network that she was liquidating inventory. Within a week, both shops sold. A week later, all her inventory was gone. Except for the choice pieces she shipped to Brenda and the things she needed to keep.

Mama's show prints from her hippie days. Her picture with George Harrison. Her jade engagement ring. In her desk drawer, Jade found Pap's praying hands medallion. She cupped them in her palm, realizing she didn't need them around her neck anymore because they lived inside her heart.

“Did you give Lillabeth the dress?” Max said.

“She's going to be so surprised. I gave her the check too.” Proceeds from the sale of the shop and the inventory. If anyone deserved a cut of the profits, it was Lilla.

“I'm so proud you're my wife.” Max kissed Jade's forehead, then started for the door. “She'll have a nice down payment for a California house. But we'd better get going. Don't know how this snow will impact traffic.”

“Okay, one more second.” Jade took a final spin around the room. She flipped the Open sign to Closed. On the storeroom wall, she'd tacked this year's calendar. Every day was circled. Every single day.

Especially today. Three years ago at Christmas she'd told Max she was pregnant with their honeymoon baby. But he didn't live. Today they were driving down to the city for a judge to pronounce Asa as hers. Forever.

Max waited outside the door. When Jade came out, his eyes greeted her with love and compassion. She shut the door and turned the key.

It was like Max said the time they rode the Ferris wheel. It's the circle of life. Jade would embrace it all, enjoy the journey, and get a little bit stronger every day.

Joy! A Child Is Born

Emily June Benson, five pounds seven ounces eighteen inches Elaine Beryl Benson, five pounds two ounces, eighteen inches Born April 21st at 4:16 p.m. & 4:18 p.m.

We're tickled pink!

Celebrate with us, pray for us, drop by and change a diaper.

With love, Max, Jade, and Asa Benson

Epilogue

August
Warrior Stadium