He’s very impressed with the work you do here.”
Cara felt her resolve crumble. It wasn’t wise to make enemies out of powerful people—her father had taught her that much from his days as a representative. Perhaps if she met this man face-to-face, she could explain why she had no interest in politics.
“I suppose I could meet with Mr. Kerns for a short while.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Russell replied. “I’ll arrange the meeting and get back with you.”
“Very well.”
Cara watched him leave. She had a strange sense of foreboding, but knew it was probably just the way he’d started to come on to her. She wasn’t used to men paying her such open attention.
Going back to her desk, Cara couldn’t help but think of her chance encounter with Harry Oberlin.
“What a contrast,” she murmured, thinking of the two men. Then her thoughts drifted to Jack.
Cara had often thought the pain of his death would never go away, but she had to admit she’d not really thought about Jack as often as before. It was just those early morning hours, when she had time to linger in bed, that the loneliness seemed to grip her afresh.
She picked up one of the framed photos on her desk. It was a family picture taken only weeks before Jack had died. Brianna shared so many of her father’s features. She had his mouth and nose, and where Cara’s features were more delicate and elfish, Brianna’s and Jack’s were rugged and boldly pronounced.
“I’m not doing you any favors, Bri,” she said to her daughter’s five-year-old image. “I’ve immersed myself too long in Jack and the memories we shared.”
They had barely lived in Topeka for two months before the accident, and since that tragic day, Cara had changed relatively little in their lives. They lived in the same apartment Jack had chosen for them, and even the furniture was positioned just as he’d arranged it. She remembered with regret her reaction when Brianna had suggested they move to an apartment complex with a swimming pool. Bri couldn’t understand her mother’s reluctance to give up the last place she’d shared with Jack.
I’ve been stuck in the past, Cara admitted to herself. Somehow, meeting up with Melissa had allowed these thoughtsto surface. Perhaps they were helped along by finding herself the focus of attraction by two very different men.
“Maybe it is time for a change.” She traced Jack’s outline with her finger. “I will always love you, and there will always be a part of me that belongs only to you. But I know it’s wrong to live in the past.” Tears came to her eyes and blurred the photo. Letting go was so much more than words and symbolic gestures.
Putting the picture in her drawer, Cara grabbed a tissue and wiped her face. So much wasted time, she thought. Time I could have given Brianna. Time I could have spent among the living instead of the dead. With new resolve, she picked up her Bible and found confirmation of her decision in the words of Philippians. “But one thing I do. Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”
“God, give me strength,” she whispered. “Give me the ability to put aside the past and reach forward. Let me make a new start with my life, with Brianna—even with my work for You.”
“Hey, Cara, you okay?”
She looked up to find Joe Milken peering into her office. She hadn’t even heard him open the door. The sandy-haired youth pastor had an infectious smile and a perpetual tan that gave him the appearance of living outdoors year-round. Today he looked like a lumberjack in his red-and-black flannel shirt and blue jeans. Stepping into her office, Joe’s rugged face held nothing but concern for her.
“Is something wrong?” he questioned. “You’re crying.”
“I’m just saying good-bye,” she replied, trying hard to smile.
“Good-bye?” His voice held a note of
Cara felt her resolve crumble. It wasn’t wise to make enemies out of powerful people—her father had taught her that much from his days as a representative. Perhaps if she met this man face-to-face, she could explain why she had no interest in politics.
“I suppose I could meet with Mr. Kerns for a short while.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Russell replied. “I’ll arrange the meeting and get back with you.”
“Very well.”
Cara watched him leave. She had a strange sense of foreboding, but knew it was probably just the way he’d started to come on to her. She wasn’t used to men paying her such open attention.
Going back to her desk, Cara couldn’t help but think of her chance encounter with Harry Oberlin.
“What a contrast,” she murmured, thinking of the two men. Then her thoughts drifted to Jack.
Cara had often thought the pain of his death would never go away, but she had to admit she’d not really thought about Jack as often as before. It was just those early morning hours, when she had time to linger in bed, that the loneliness seemed to grip her afresh.
She picked up one of the framed photos on her desk. It was a family picture taken only weeks before Jack had died. Brianna shared so many of her father’s features. She had his mouth and nose, and where Cara’s features were more delicate and elfish, Brianna’s and Jack’s were rugged and boldly pronounced.
“I’m not doing you any favors, Bri,” she said to her daughter’s five-year-old image. “I’ve immersed myself too long in Jack and the memories we shared.”
They had barely lived in Topeka for two months before the accident, and since that tragic day, Cara had changed relatively little in their lives. They lived in the same apartment Jack had chosen for them, and even the furniture was positioned just as he’d arranged it. She remembered with regret her reaction when Brianna had suggested they move to an apartment complex with a swimming pool. Bri couldn’t understand her mother’s reluctance to give up the last place she’d shared with Jack.
I’ve been stuck in the past, Cara admitted to herself. Somehow, meeting up with Melissa had allowed these thoughtsto surface. Perhaps they were helped along by finding herself the focus of attraction by two very different men.
“Maybe it is time for a change.” She traced Jack’s outline with her finger. “I will always love you, and there will always be a part of me that belongs only to you. But I know it’s wrong to live in the past.” Tears came to her eyes and blurred the photo. Letting go was so much more than words and symbolic gestures.
Putting the picture in her drawer, Cara grabbed a tissue and wiped her face. So much wasted time, she thought. Time I could have given Brianna. Time I could have spent among the living instead of the dead. With new resolve, she picked up her Bible and found confirmation of her decision in the words of Philippians. “But one thing I do. Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”
“God, give me strength,” she whispered. “Give me the ability to put aside the past and reach forward. Let me make a new start with my life, with Brianna—even with my work for You.”
“Hey, Cara, you okay?”
She looked up to find Joe Milken peering into her office. She hadn’t even heard him open the door. The sandy-haired youth pastor had an infectious smile and a perpetual tan that gave him the appearance of living outdoors year-round. Today he looked like a lumberjack in his red-and-black flannel shirt and blue jeans. Stepping into her office, Joe’s rugged face held nothing but concern for her.
“Is something wrong?” he questioned. “You’re crying.”
“I’m just saying good-bye,” she replied, trying hard to smile.
“Good-bye?” His voice held a note of
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