The sets were unbelievable—more elaborate than anything he’d seen on a Broadway stage, even at the production of The Lion King. But it was the story line that grabbed his heart in a strange and unexpected way. The story showed George Banks so caught up in his job and his self-importance that he spent a decade missing out on the treasures of life—his wife and kids. Sure, they shared a house, but George was no more invested in the lives of his family than he was in the lives of the strangers who came and left his bank each day.
In the end, through the intervention of Mary Poppins, George saw his family and his life in a new way—before it was too late.
Luke crossed 43rd Street and continued north. So what about him? He and Reagan were barely speaking to each other. He had a suspicion that there was more to her friendship with the firefighter, and certainly she suspected him of having a girlfriend here in the city. The truth seemed shady and intangible for both of them, and so far they had avoided having any deep discussions on the matter.
It was enough to come home at the end of the day and deal with Tommy and Malin without also making time to do surgery on his marriage. The main reason he hadn’t pulled Reagan aside to talk to her, though, was because of his great and consuming guilt.
He’d asked God for help, told Him he was sorry and that he didn’t recognize himself any longer. He was sure his mother would’ve been heartbroken by the person he had become. But in order to come clean with Reagan, he would have to admit the affair with Randi. Somehow he believed that telling her would make things worse. They could continue on the way they were, with neither of them any wiser about whatever was going on behind the scenes. And that way, they could still have a semblance of faithfulness and commitment.
A police car screamed down the street, followed by two others. Cabdrivers slammed on their horns, urging pedestrians to get out of the way. No one stopped and stared. No one looked alarmed. Another night in New York City.
Luke pulled his scarf tight around his face and braced himself against the wind. It was the same way with him. His life was in crisis mode, sirens blaring through his heart and soul. But no one noticed him or wondered about the pain he was carrying any more than they would wonder about any other pedestrian walking the streets of Times Square.
The pain was his own. The guilt, too.
But if he didn’t deal with it, he would wind up exactly like George Banks. Married to his work, with only the shell of a life outside the office. That was if Reagan didn’t leave him first. This wasn’t the life his parents had hoped for him. His actions weren’t the result of anything he’d learned from growing up a Baxter.
He reached 48th Street and the hotel where he was staying. The doorman smiled politely as he walked past and into the elevator. His room was twenty-nine floors up, and with each number that passed, Luke became more sure of his next move. Whatever the fallout, whether Reagan could understand and learn to forgive him, or if it meant she wanted to move on without him, he had just one choice if he wanted to turn things around. He needed to tell the truth.
The moment he walked into his room, he dropped to the edge of the bed and dialed Dayne’s number. Okay, God . . . after this there won’t be any turning back. He gulped back his fear, and as he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung over the bureau. He wasn’t the guy he’d once been, the cocksure twenty-one-year-old who had known he would be everything John Baxter was and more. His eyes were empty and fearful, but maybe after today, they’d reflect something he’d been needing more than his next breath.
Forgiveness.
He sent the call, and on the second ring Dayne answered. “Hello?”
Luke squeezed his eyes shut. “Hey, Dayne . . . it’s me, Luke.”
“I know.” Dayne seemed impatient but not angry. Almost certainly he had no idea why Luke was calling. “What’s on your mind?”
Luke’s heartbeat pounded in his temples so loud that he wondered if Dayne could hear it through the phone line. “I owe you an apology.”
For a few seconds, silence weighed heavy in the space between them. Then there was the sound of Dayne drawing a long breath. “Okay . . . go on.”
“I lied to you.” Luke opened his eyes and massaged his brow. He wanted to change his identity or move to another planet where the truth would no longer matter. But there was no such place. He breathed in and held it. “It was me in the photograph. Randi made me promise not to say anything, and I . . . I didn’t want Reagan to find out.” He exhaled through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry.”
Again silence, and then something that sounded almost like a stifled cry. “You’re serious? You were the guy?”
“I was. Randi had been drinking, but we weren’t drunk. She just didn’t want people to know. Me either. For very selfish reasons.” Luke felt sick. He wouldn’t blame Dayne if this was the last time they ever spoke. And something else he hadn’t thought about until this moment—Dayne would probably fire him. How could he trust Luke with his legal affairs when Luke was a liar willing to let Dayne go down in flames over a tabloid photo?
“You and Randi . . . is there still something between you?”
“No. It’s over. I want to make things right with Reagan.” Luke stood and went to the window. His head pounded, and he only wished for the call to end. “Things are terrible between us, and she doesn’t even know about Randi.” He leaned against the window frame. “I’ll have to tell her, of course. But . . . I had to talk to you first.”
Dayne must’ve heard the pain and desperation in Luke’s tone because this time he didn’t hesitate. “I don’t know what to say.” His voice wasn’t angry the way it should’ve been. “I asked God to show me the truth, and you called at almost the same minute.”
“Yeah . . . well, I don’t blame you if you’re through with me. I’m just about through with me too. Mom wouldn’t recognize the man I’ve become.”
Dayne’s joy was clear even over the phone. “We can talk more later, but I can tell you this . . . I’m not through with you.” The happiness in his tone mixed with a love that defied logic. “I didn’t work so hard to find my family only to write you off now. I forgive you. I mean it.”
Luke braced himself against the window and tried to catch his breath. Had his brother actually just said those words? He forgave him? Luke had betrayed Dayne’s trust in every possible way, and in return he was being given a kind of grace he’d known just once before. When his parents welcomed him home from his rebellion after 9/11.
Peace washed over him. Peace and a sense that he couldn’t possibly accept his brother’s forgiveness. But then, the grace Dayne was offering him was supernatural, the kind that came from faith in Christ alone. Luke wanted to tell him no, that forgiveness wasn’t necessary because Luke didn’t deserve it. But he couldn’t get the words past his lips.
“I know how you’re feeling.” Dayne’s tone was rich with compassion. “I’ve made lots of bad choices in my life. It’s a matter of untangling the knots and moving forward.” He seemed suddenly in a hurry to get off the phone. “Does Randi know you’re telling me?”
“No. But something’s changed in her too.” Luke realized there were tears on his cheeks. He wiped at them and coughed to clear his voice. “I’m not sure what’s happening, but God’s doing all the work.”
“Yes.” Again there was a smile in Dayne’s voice. “That’s exactly what it is.” He promised to call Luke again soon, and then the call ended.
As Luke tossed his cell phone back on the bed, he pictured Reagan, the way she’d looked that long-ago September 10, when he stopped by her Indiana University apartment before her softball game. He was supposed to go with her that day, but instead . . .
Instead they’d stayed alone in the apartment and watched Monday Night Football. Reagan had fallen asleep on the couch beside him. What happened next changed the course of their lives.
Luke turned his back to the window and moved to the bed. In some ways, the consequences from that day were still playing out si
x years later. He and Reagan had gone against God’s plan, and in the year that followed they’d been little more than strangers. The same way they were now.
Luke stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes. He wasn’t tired, but he needed to make a plan. And then in a rush he could see the obvious truth—there was only one plan to be made. That way, after tonight he could move ahead with not one less lie choking the life from him but two less. With that he didn’t hesitate. He picked up his cell phone and dialed the one person he’d hurt most with his decisions.
His precious wife, Reagan.
It was all Dayne could do to keep from calling Katy right then and there. Bob clearly knew something dramatic had happened, and when Dayne hung up the phone, the details tumbled out.
“I wanted so much to believe you.” Bob pulled him into a hug. “After you explained yourself that first time we talked, I never really thought you were lying.”
“I know. It’s okay.” Dayne wasn’t angry at Bob or anyone else who might’ve doubted him—whether for a brief time or to this day. He was a movie star; of course he would be a candidate for having an affair with his leading lady. But the truth was out, and Dayne could hardly wait to share it with the world. He felt like a wrongly convicted prisoner who had finally and completely been set free.
“The timing.” Bob laughed. “I mean, is God great or what?”
Dayne smiled, and he felt it to the center of his soul. He had done what Bob had trained him to do—relied on God’s promises and taken the painful situation straight to the throne room of heaven. Along the way, God had met him right here. This very night.
He wanted to call Katy before another minute passed, but it wasn’t even four in the morning in London. So for the next two hours, he and Bob talked about Luke and his life and then about the dreams Dayne had for that far-off someday when he could leave acting behind and live out his days in Bloomington, on the shore of Lake Monroe, surrounded by his family.
Finally, when it wouldn’t be too early Katy’s time, Dayne excused himself, stepped outside, and stood against the doorframe. Luke’s reputation and marriage were on the line, so Dayne wanted to be careful who he talked to about the truth. After all, people were used to seeing his name in the headlines. But Luke’s name? If the public found out the truth, the affair with Randi would stay with Luke the rest of his life. With Dayne, though, the tabloids were always taking potshots, looking for dirt. What the public thought of him didn’t matter. No, Dayne wouldn’t reveal the information, but he needed Katy to know.
The call went through, but after a number of rings it went to her voice mail. Dayne hesitated but decided against leaving a message. This was the sort of news he wanted to tell her himself, not through a recording. He hung up and looked at the time on his phone. She was probably in the shower, which meant she might not see she missed a call from him until late in the day.
She had less than three weeks of filming left, so it was crucial he talk to her before she went home. Otherwise she’d make the trip to Bloomington without knowing the truth. In that case she was bound to feel farther from him, more intent on returning to her former life without him.
He pressed his lips together and clicked his phone shut. He’d get the word to Katy somehow, even if he had to change his filming schedule to reach her. For now he could only pray for one more miracle.
That Katy would believe him until then.
Ashley drove through Bloomington in a daze, trying to focus on her MapQuest directions and not the terrible conversation she’d just had with Reagan. She was meeting Brooke and Kari at the site of the crisis pregnancy center. Ashley loved the name Brooke had come up with for the center, and they all agreed. Sarah’s Door would honor the brief life of Ashley and Landon’s little girl.
From the beginning, the prayer of Ashley, Brooke, Kari, and their friends and families who had joined in the effort was always the same. That whoever walked through the doors of the center would find life and choose life. At that moment of crisis and forevermore.
Now, though, Ashley could’ve prayed a similar prayer for Luke and Reagan. Of course she’d known there was trouble. They’d all known. Reagan had hinted about it before, but not until a few minutes ago did Ashley understand how critical the situation really was.
“Mama!” Devin was in the back, strapped in his car seat. He caught her attention in the rearview mirror and grinned, pointing out the window at a semi in the next lane. “Big tuck!”
Ashley’s heart melted. His joy was so complete, so innocent. “Yes, buddy, big, big truck.” Each week it seemed Devin got a little more like his older brother. A little more adventurous than Cole but with the same tender heart. A reflection of their daddy and their heavenly Father.
Devin gasped, his eyes wide, and this time he pointed at a dump truck.
Ashley checked the directions once more at the stoplight. When the light changed, she drove another half mile and made one final turn. She stayed focused until she pulled up in front of the closed-down storefront site of the previous crisis pregnancy center. Brooke had already signed a new lease for the space. They had scheduled a few workdays for cleaning and painting, and then when the new furniture and equipment came in, they could celebrate the reopening.
Ashley turned off the engine and settled back in her seat. Brooke and Kari weren’t here yet, so she gave herself permission to think once more about her conversation with Reagan, the one she’d had on the drive here.
“Things aren’t good,” her sister-in-law had told her. “Luke moved out this past weekend. He took an apartment a few miles away.”
Ashley had to work to maintain control of her van. “What? How did that happen?” She thought about turning around and heading straight for her brother’s house.
“He told me the truth about the picture in the tabloids.” Reagan hesitated. “The guy in the photograph wasn’t Dayne. It was Luke.”
Dizziness swept over Ashley, and at that point she pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store. “Are you serious?” She had never even considered the possibility. Here all this time . . . all this time she’d been worried sick about Katy and Dayne, deeply disappointed in her older brother for his inability to be faithful. When all along the problem was Luke’s.
Reagan explained that Luke had gone to Cabo for a couple of days to help Dayne with contracts. Luke and Randi had taken a walk on the beach that night. The picture on the cover of the tabloids told the rest of the story.
A sinking feeling grabbed at Ashley, and for a moment she let her head rest on the steering wheel. “I can’t believe it.” She wanted to feel happy for Dayne and Katy, but the sorrow of Luke’s mistake was too great.
Reagan explained that Luke had started drinking during his business trips, and he’d connected with one of the women from the law firm. “So it isn’t just Randi.” Sarcasm colored her tone. “Luke’s making moves wherever his work takes him.”
“Does Dayne know?”
“Yes.” She sighed, but the bitterness remained in her voice. “When Luke was finally willing to come clean, he called Dayne first. As far as I know, though, he hasn’t gotten ahold of Katy yet.”
Despite the bad news, hope flooded Ashley’s heart. If Dayne knew, Katy would know eventually. At that point she’d have to allow for the fact that a misunderstanding had happened. Someday not too far away, the relationship between Katy and Dayne would be restored to what it once was.
But Luke and Reagan . . .
Her sister-in-law explained that after Luke came clean, the two of them slowly realized the sad truth. There was nothing left of their marriage. “It’s not altogether a bad thing, Luke getting his own apartment. There’s a lot of anger between us right now.” Her tone softened for the first time. “Maybe one day we’ll be ready for counseling. But until then, the kids deserve more than us fighting all the time.”
Ashley was kind but urgent. “It isn’t better for anyone. Get counseling now before the two of you convince yourselves to move on.”
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But Reagan had her mind set. “Sometimes life doesn’t give you a storybook ending, Ashley.”
The call had ended, and Ashley pulled back into traffic.
Now Ashley still couldn’t believe the news and how far her brother had fallen. She looked at Devin. He’d fallen asleep, his curly blond head nestled against the padded side of his car seat. She reached back and stroked his chubby hand. No one needed to tell her about storybook endings. If she’d been writing the story, Sarah would be sitting in the backseat next to Devin, healed and alive. But in the course of losing her daughter, Ashley had been convinced of one promise from God. The miracle of Sarah’s life would happen in the lives around her. In the relationships that made up the Baxter family. The verse that had spoken to her in the days after coming home from the hospital with empty arms still stayed with her. Not only should Ashley be still and know that God was in control, but the Lord would be exalted!
Tears filled her eyes. So how was God being glorified now?
She searched the street again for signs of her sisters. She was early but only by a few minutes.
Yes, Sarah’s life had to count for something, and that sad, joyous day at the hospital, Ashley had looked at the faces around her and known that the miracle would be increased love all the way around. Already her father had acted on his desire to love much and to make the most of his days. He had asked Elaine to marry him.
Afterwards, he’d called each of his kids and told them the news. Their dad and Elaine wanted a summer wedding, which meant that Erin and Sam would already be back living in the area when the celebration happened. No matter how bittersweet the announcement, Ashley cared for Elaine. She was happy for her dad, glad that he wouldn’t live the rest of his life alone. There was glory for God in that.
But Ashley had never imagined that the one living alone before Christmas would be Luke.