The Isaac Project (14 page)

“You guys ready to order?” Wendy’s pen was poised over her pad of paper. Her lips smacked the gum rolling around in her mouth. Ah, such fine dining.

We gave Wendy our order, and she left with one last pointed glance at our hands still clasped atop the table.

Needing to gain some composure, I tugged my hand free and demurely placed it in my lap with the other.

“Listen,” I said, “I want to apologize for what happened out there.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“James and I, well, we broke up not that long ago and, well…”

“It’s okay, Becky. Lisa told me all about it.”

My relief over not having to explain further battled my embarrassment.

“But Becky,” he continued, “what I told him was true too. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even though that was exactly what I wanted to hear, my self-doubt took ahold of my voice.

“How can you say that—know that? We’ve only met an hour ago, and you hardly know anything about me. Once you get to know me more, you might change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

“How do you know?”

He studied me a moment. “If someone were to ask you to define love, what would you say?”

What
would
I say? With everything that had happened recently, I wasn’t sure I knew what love was anymore. “I guess I’d say that, on the basic level, love is a feeling you have for another person. But it’s an extremely powerful feeling. It can pick you up and wash you away faster than an undertow at Monterey Bay. It’s so powerful it can change the world. Or break a heart. Or make you do things you never thought you’d do.” That was my experience, anyway.

Luke nodded his head as he considered my answer.

“You’re right. But I also think love is more than just a strong feeling. Love is in the words we say and the things we do for others, but most importantly, love is the choice we make to say those words and do those things. You say that I hardly know you, but I know you well enough to know that you are capable of great love. The love you have for your grandfather is enough to put others to shame.” His smile was gentle as he regarded me. “Before I ever came here, I made a decision, a commitment, and that’s how I know I won’t change my mind. Besides,” a teasing quality crept into his voice, “I don’t think the Rebekah in the Bible ever imagined returning to her father and brother back in Padan-Aram after meeting Isaac, and isn’t she supposed to be my mentor?”

Wow. Was this guy for real? I didn’t know guys like him, with mind frames like that, even existed. He sounded so certain. Like there was no question things would work out between us. But I had to ask one more time. “Are you sure?”

A mischievous glint entered Luke’s eyes as he scooted out of the booth.

Oh no. What’s he going to do?

Straight-faced, Luke stood before me. Then, as if time moved in slow motion, he descended until he was down on one knee. He took one of my hands in both of his.

“Rebekah Sawyer, will you marry me?”

Leaning forward so our faces were close, I whispered harshly, “What are you doing? Get up.”

Not even trying to hide his grin he replied, “Not until you answer me.”

“Get up. Everyone is staring.” I looked around the diner, and sure enough, every eye was focused on the two of us.

His grin was cheeky, and his eyes danced. “Then you’d better say yes.”

“Yes, yes. Are you happy now?” I tried to pull him off the floor.

“Ecstatic.”

15

Luke

SOME DECISIONS IN life are hard to make, and others are easy. What was I going to have for dinner? Pretty easy. Even if I got it wrong, the consequences weren’t that dreadful. What car should I buy? A little more difficult decision, but one I could make by gathering facts on various makes and models. Leave a job that I love, a comfortable apartment, and all my friends and family to come to a state where I’d never been to marry a woman I’d never met was definitely in the hard category. But now that I was here and had met Becky, it didn’t seem all that difficult. In fact, every minute I spent in her presence only confirmed that I’d made the right choice. And any doubts or second-guessing I might have had faded into the background.

That morning when I’d met that two-timing louse Becky had once called her boyfriend, it had taken all my self-restraint not to use him like one of the punching bags at the Bunker. Seeing him had awakened a protectiveness within me that I hadn’t felt for a long time. In my line of work, I was used to protecting people physically. But this time I wanted to protect the woman in question emotionally. I could feel her slight tremble when I’d placed my hand to her back in silent support. So I’d tucked her in closer, trying to shield her as much as possible.

Now we were on our way to meet the famous Poppy. The man responsible for bringing me two thousand miles to a new home and for introducing me to a woman I had already begun to recognize as someone special.

We pulled up to a nice ranch-style house with an inviting front porch and rocking chairs swaying gently in the afternoon breeze. The grounds were well maintained and sported many different colors, sizes, and variety of flowers. If not for the Grandview Nursing Home sign out front, I would’ve thought this the residence of a young growing family.

As we walked up the steps and onto the porch, the screen door opened and slammed shut as a petite young Hispanic woman wearing pink scrubs came barreling out and nearly ran Becky down.

“I so glad you here.” Her accent was thick in her distress.

“Calm down, Rita. What’s wrong?” Becky grabbed the woman’s forearms in an attempt to steady the…nurse?

“I just about call you. Mr. Sawyer…he…”

Rebekah bent her head down, staring into the woman’s face.

“What is it, Rita? What about Mr. Sawyer?” Her voice was strained. A vein running along her temple throbbed.

“Ten minutes ago ambulance take him to hospital. His
corazon
.” She placed her hand across her chest.

“His heart,” Becky whispered, stricken. Stepping around Rita, Becky rushed through the door, calling out for a Dr. Henshaw.

I gave Rita a reassuring smile but left her on the porch to follow Becky. I wished I knew my fiancée better. A few hours’ acquaintance didn’t tell me a twit about how to handle this situation. Did she need space during a crisis to figure things out, or did she want someone to be there with her so she didn’t have to face it on her own?

When I caught up to Becky, she was talking to a droopy-eyed older gentleman in a white coat.

“He’s being taken to Northern Samaritan Hospital up in Bishop. Now don’t look so alarmed, my dear,” the gray-haired doctor soothed. “It was a minor heart attack and he was in stable condition when the paramedics left here. I’m sure in a few days he’ll be back with us.”

As Becky turned, the fear in her eyes made me jump into action.

“Come on,” I said and took the keys that had been dangling from her limp hand. “I’ll drive.”

I found the hospital’s address on my iPhone and let its GPS guide me. It took nearly forty-five minutes, but to Becky I was sure it felt like a lifetime. She sat up completely straight, her body making a perfect ninety-degree angle. Her back didn’t touch the backrest, and her knuckles were white from gripping the faded striped material on her side of the long bench seat. I reached over and covered the hand closest to me with my own, giving it an encouraging squeeze before returning both hands to the steering wheel.

I had barely put the truck in park before Becky flung herself out the door and barreled toward the entrance of the hospital. I reached across the long seat and punched down the lock mechanism on the passenger door before hopping out the driver’s side and sprinting across the parking lot.

The automatic doors opened, and I could see Becky at the registration desk. Before I could reach her, she turned to the left and dashed down the hallway, stopping in front of the elevators. Over and over she pushed the little round button, now illuminated with an arrow pointing up.

Finally, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. We stepped inside and silently rode to the third floor.

When the doors opened again, Becky continued to rush down hallways, even managing to dodge a nurse pushing a patient in a wheelchair. At last we came to the room we were looking for, and Becky stepped inside.

I let her go in alone. I thought she might like some privacy with her grandfather. I wasn’t sure what she had told him about me. We hadn’t been able to discuss that yet, and I didn’t want her to have to explain the presence of a strange man.

I meandered down the hall and found a small alcove with some chairs. They weren’t the most comfortable, but it was a place to pass the time. I picked up a copy of
Time
magazine and flipped through its glossy pages.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that Becky found me. The corner of her lower lip was sucked between her teeth.

“He wants to talk to you. Alone.”

She looked so uncertain, so vulnerable. I stood and reached out my hand, squeezing her shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Lord, don’t make me a liar.

Mr. Sawyer was lying on his hospital bed as I entered his room. At least three separate soft beeps sounded from triplet screens on the opposite side of his bed. An IV line with two small and one large medicine bag dripped in his vein. An oxygen mask covered his ashen face. With his eyes closed, he appeared to be resting, except I could see the effort it took to draw in each breath, could hear the wheeze as air entered and exited his lungs.

“So,” he rasped, opening his eyes and focusing them directly on me. He lifted the oxygen mask to talk. “Rebekah Anne tells me you two are to be married.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied. “With your permission, that is.”

He waved aside my comment and indicated a chair that had been scooted up close to his bed.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed aside his mask once again. I opened my mouth to tell him to save his strength, but the man had a stubborn set to his jaw. Even though I hadn’t known Becky all that long, I was pretty sure she’d already tried to convince him of that very thing, to no avail.

“Do you love my granddaughter?” No beating around the bush with this man. He cut out the fat and went straight to the point.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

I didn’t want to deceive the old man, but there were many different types of love. It was true that I wasn’t
in love
with his granddaughter. I had only known her a few hours, and I didn’t believe in love at first sight or the notion of soul mates. But I did love her in the way God calls us to love all His children. And I truly believed that with time I could love her another way. The way a husband loved his wife. The way I was sure Mr. Sawyer meant by his question.

“And just how long have you known Rebekah?”

I couldn’t hesitate. I couldn’t look away. I had to answer him honestly.

“I first talked to her a couple of weeks ago on the phone, but today is the first time we’ve met.”

Mr. Sawyer harrumphed and shook his head.

“I know what she is up to, that girl of mine. Sweet child. I should be cross at her and tell her to stop all these shenanigans right here and now, but I’m not going to do that. I know she is doing it all for me, a silly idea about my final wish, no doubt.”

He pointed a finger at me. “You can’t tell her I know what she is up to. I don’t mean for you to keep it a secret forever—husbands and wives shouldn’t have secrets from each other—but just for a little bit. I want her to have this. This idea that she did this last big thing for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir. I can.”

“Good. Good boy. You know I wouldn’t let her do this if I thought you weren’t right for her. But I can tell. I can see it in you. You are going to be good for her.”

I didn’t say anything but prayed he was right.

“My Rebekah though, she can be a stubborn girl. She is independent, and that James fellow hurt her pretty badly. I’m going to let you in on a few things, you know, just to kind of give you a head start to her heart.”

And he did. In the few minutes that followed, I learned more about the woman who was to become my wife than I’d ever learned about any girl that I had ever dated in the past. I learned about the devastating deaths of her parents. How her mother had loved the ballet, and because of that, Becky was drawn to anything in a tutu and ballet slippers. I learned that her favorite comfort food was a grilled cheese sandwich dipped in ketchup with a pickle on the side. It was something Poppy had always fixed her whenever she had a bad day growing up. I learned that no matter how many abused horses she took in, she cried over every one. And I learned where Mr. Sawyer had kept his daughter-in-law’s wedding ring since her car accident.

Mr. Sawyer’s strength was completely zapped by the time he finished speaking. I insisted he rest for a while, and this time he didn’t object. By the time I stepped out the door, he was already sleeping soundly.

I was nearly pounced on the second my foot stepped over the threshold.

“Is he okay? What did he say? Does he want to see me?”

“He’s fine,” I assured her. “He’s resting now.”

Becky took a deep breath, and when she exhaled it seemed all her strength left with it. The stress of the day was taking its toll on her, and she was wilting quickly before my eyes.

I touched her elbow. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

She didn’t object, and I led her to the hospital cafeteria. It wasn’t until we were seated with steaming cups of surprisingly decent coffee that she seemed to find the words that had been bogging down her mind.

“When you were in with Poppy, the doctor came and talked to me in the hallway. It doesn’t look good, Luke. He said Poppy’s body is beginning to shut down and that…” Her voice cracked, and her face was beginning to develop red blotches from the onset of tears. “That I should start to make any last-minute arrangements.”