The Breaking Point (40 page)

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Authors: Karen Ball

Tags: #Christian Fiction

BOOK: The Breaking Point
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“I knew you’d think of something.”

An odd pain struck him at her words. If only she held such confidence in him when it mattered … really mattered.

Forcing a smile back to his lips, he pulled away and headed down the back stairs, to the basement. There he gathered a ladder, a broom, a discarded broom handle, and his roll of duct tape.
Gray tape
, his mind corrected him.

He grinned. “Whatever it is, don’t leave home without it.”

Outside, he could hear the squirrel’s squeaky screams as it struggled to hold on to the wire. Gabe scanned the nearby trees again. Last thing he needed was to have the little guy’s mom come down on his head while he was trying to play the rescuing hero. She was still on her perch, but she’d spotted him and was directing her angry chatter his way.

“Relax, Mama, I’m the hero.”

Clearly unconvinced, the squirrel’s tail twitched and she upped the volume a notch. He knelt and taped the broom handles together, then situated the ladder just below the squirrel and made his way up. He perched on the rung just below the top of the ladder and extended his makeshift rescue rod.

It was too short. He grimaced as he realized he would have to balance on the top of the ladder. “No way.”

How often had he made fun of guys who did that, who put themselves at ridiculous risk, no matter how good the reason? No way was he going to do exactly what he’d been telling people for years
not
to do—

“Be careful, Gabe.”

He started and had to wave his arms wildly to keep from toppling off the ladder. The broom clattered to the ground as he caught his balance and shot a glare to the windows above. Renee had opened one of the windows and was leaning out,
peering down at him, her eyes wide. Even from this distance he could see the red creeping up her cheeks as she realized what she’d just done. “I’m sor—”

He held up a hand, halting her, and made his way down to retrieve the broom. Drawing a deep breath, he climbed the ladder again, then glanced up at Renee. She was looking from him to the squirrel, and the trust on her face told the whole story. He had no choice.

Shaking his head, he stepped onto the top of the ladder. “I must be crazy …”

“Gabe—”

He tried to keep his words from sounding tense. “I need to concentrate here, Renee.”

She clamped her mouth shut and nodded, but worry showed in her creased brow. Well, why shouldn’t she be worried? He sure was. Only an idiot stood on the top of a ladder.

Don’t think about it. Just focus on the task at hand.

With slow, careful movements, he extended the broom so that the head was just below the little squirrel’s scrambling legs. Gabe held his breath as the little guy tried to get away from the broom, then, as though suddenly realizing this was solid ground, let go of the wire and clamped onto the broom head.

As quickly as he dared, Gabe swiveled, extending the broom to the tree, where the mother squirrel kept up her constant, frantic scolding. He nudged the little squirrel against a branch, and as though understanding perfectly, the little furball jumped off the broom and onto the branch. In a heartbeat the mother was beside her baby, snatching him up and scampering back to the next branch, tail twitching like a conductor’s baton.

Gabe glanced up to share the victory with Renee, but she was gone. His euphoria vanished in an instant, replaced by a disappointment so sharp and keen that it made it hard to
breathe. She hadn’t stayed to see the rescue? He clenched his teeth. She’d probably decided he would fail. That he’d end up knocking the squirrel to the ground. He caught an oath deep in his throat, not willing to give voice to his frustration. He threw the broom to the ground, then made his way down the ladder, calling himself every kind of fool for thinking she believed in him.

He had barely reached the ground when the back door burst open and Renee was there, running to him. Before he could take it in, she was in his arms, her face pressed against him, her hands warm and firm at his back. “Thank you.”

Her smile glowed up at him, and instead of the disdain he so often saw in her expression, there was only gratitude. He didn’t question or try to analyze what was happening. There wasn’t really time. He just took the moment for what it was: a gift.

He gathered her close, savoring the feel of her, and lowered his head, half holding his breath in case she stiffened and backed away. But she didn’t. She met his kiss without hesitation, and for a moment they were a part of each other again, connected, sharing the very essence of who they were. Like they’d been at the beginning. Like he thought they’d always be.

When their lips parted, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing in the fragrance that was so uniquely Renee. “I’ve missed you.”

She leaned back, then lifted a hand to cup his face, her touch feather-soft. “I’ve missed you, too.”

They stood there, neither one wanting to break the moment. Renee moved first, stepping back, out of his arms, but she slid a hand down his arm as she moved until their fingers entwined.

“Gabe, I have something I want to ask you.”

He held his silence. Whatever it was, he wasn’t afraid. And that in itself was a miracle.

“Will you come home?”

Come home? Did she mean …? Well, Steve had been telling him to ask for clarification when he wasn’t clear. “I’m not sure I understand, Renee. What do you mean, come home?”

She looked down at their joined hands, then back up at him. “I mean move back home, into our apartment. I miss you, Gabe, and I want you home. With me.” She bit her lip. “If … you’re ready. If not, I understand. I really do. But I wanted you to know that I’d like you to come home.”

Gabe stood there, looking down at her, stunned to find himself at a total loss for words.

Renee stood, waiting. It was one of the hardest things she’d had to do in a long time.

She wanted an answer, and she wanted it now. And she wanted it to be yes. She’d hoped Gabe would react with excitement, enthusiasm, and if she was honest she had to admit it hurt a bit that he didn’t.

But she understood his hesitation. They’d made a lot of progress, but things were far from smooth. They still had conflicts, still drove each other nuts at times, still fell into old patterns far too often.

And yet, Renee knew she was ready for him to come home. She’d seen such amazing changes in him over the past year, and she’d worked hard to make changes as well.

Of course, that came a good deal more slowly …

She didn’t bother to deny it, was just grateful it had finally come. Of course, changing the way she looked at Gabe was far from easy, and she’d failed more than she’d succeeded, but she was trying. Which was why she didn’t try to rush Gabe, to pull the answer she wanted from him. She just waited.

“Renee, I need to think about this. Pray about it.”

She let the disappointment come and go. She’d made her request. Gabe had every right to respond to it in his own way, his own timing. And how could she possibly object to his wanting to pray about it?

Renee linked her arm with his. “I think that’s a good idea. Now, didn’t I hear you say something about ordering pizza and renting a video tonight?”

Surprise lit his features at her acceptance, and then relief. But her best reward came when he smiled—because what lifted his lips was the relaxed, almost happy smile she’d seen in those earlier pictures.

They weren’t out of the woods, not by a long shot. But for this moment, at least, they’d reached a clearing.

If you wish me conventional happiness,
I will never forgive you. Don’t wish me happiness …
Wish me courage and strength and a
sense of humor—I will need them all.

A
NNE
L
INDBERGH

As for me, I am poor and needy, hut the Lord
is thinking about me right now.
You are my helper and my savior. Do not delay, O my God.

P
SALM
40:17

O
CTOBER
1993,
SATURDAY EVENING

“GRACE, OREN, CAN I TALK WITH YOU?”

Grace looked up from the book she was reading and found Gabe standing in the doorway of the family room.

Oren laid down his own book and slid his bifocals from his face. “Sure, come on in.”

Grace nodded her agreement to Oren’s invitation, but Gabe leaned in the doorway “I just wanted to ask you guys to be praying for me. I … have a decision to make.” When they didn’t say anything, he went on. “Renee has asked me to move back in with her.”

How Grace kept herself from jumping up and bouncing on the couch, she didn’t know. If only she could be as reserved and calm as Oren. He just gave Gabe a warm smile.

“We’ll be praying for you, son. I know you’ll make the right decision.”

That brought Gabe into the room, and he fell to pacing on Grace’s favorite hand-thrown rug.

“Gabe—” she smiled and patted the couch—“why don’t you sit down, dear?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

Grace frowned. “To sit down?”

Oren shot her a look, and she bit her lip. “Oh. Sorry.”

He turned back to Gabe. “You may never feel ready. Not really.”

“But what if …”

“What?”

He turned away. “What if this whole thing is a mistake? What if Renee and I were never meant to be married? What if we’re just not right for each other?”

If the pain in his voice was any indication of the ache in his heart, Gabe was really hurting. And really afraid. Grace went to join him, sliding her arm around his waist. She could always buy another rug.

He leaned into her. “If I move back in, it will just be that much harder to walk away when … if it doesn’t work out.”

Oren leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think the question is whether or not you’re right for each other. There is no right person out there. We’re all human and broken. I think you know the key to marriage isn’t finding the right person—it’s becoming the right person. It’s working and struggling and giving up your selfishness; it’s being willing to confront at times and confess at others.”

Gabe gave Grace a hug and moved to sit on the couch. She followed him with a smile. “Renee and I are doing pretty well right now. I’m just worried that when we’re together, day in and day out, well … we’ll blow it.
I’ll
blow it.”

“Of course you will.” Oren’s smile lit his face. “That’s where forgiveness comes in, and mercy. And keeping in mind that your behavior doesn’t depend on Renee or what she says
and does. It depends on you. You determine your actions, not Renee. You’re the one who has to resolve to pursue Renee, to love her, even in the midst of anger, frustration, disappointment, whatever. You made the choice to marry her, and that means you have made a commitment to embrace her, to open yourself to her, and to let God redefine your fears, your resistance, even the hate you sometimes feel, into His love.”

Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a tall order.”

“But it’s God’s order. And that means He’ll give you the wisdom and strength to carry it out.”

Grace laid a hand on Gabe’s arm. “My mother told me a long time ago that when you marry someone, you give him or her the gift of yourself. I think you need to ask yourself if you’re ready to do that. Are you ready to give yourself to Renee?”

He fell silent, and after a few moments, Grace and Oren went back to their books. But Grace couldn’t hold back a smile when Gabe rose from the couch, determination on his features.

“I’m going to make a phone call.”

Grace reached for Oren’s hand. “To your wife?”

“To my wife.”

Renee pounced on the phone at the first ring. “Renee?”

Oh, she’d hoped it was Gabe! She held the receiver with both hands, her heart pounding. “Hi, Gabe.”

“Can I come back over and talk, just for a few minutes?”
You can come for as long as you want.
“Sure, come on over.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Renee set the phone back in the cradle, and her hand rested on top of the receiver for a few seconds.
You know what I want, Lord, and so does Gabe. But even more than Gabe coming home, I want us to do this Your way. So help me be patient and
understanding, whatever he’s coming to say.

She made her way down to the porch steps, and true to his word, twenty minutes later Gabe’s car pulled into the drive. He walked from the car, and she thought there was purpose to his steps.

“You want to sit out here? It’s a nice night.”

He nodded and came to perch on the top step beside her. He rested his elbows on his knees and angled a look at her. “Rennie, I don’t know what the future holds, but I know this: I want to make us work. And I think you’re right. We can’t really do that until we’re together. Really together again.”

Her pulse pounding in her ears, she made certain she was hearing what she thought she was. “Are you saying …?”

His gaze was as steady as his words. “I want to come home.”

She took his hand in hers and nodded. A new start. Again. They seemed to end up here so often …

This time, though, it was different. It might not be the last time they needed to start over—she knew herself, and their relationship, too well to believe that—but she prayed they’d never again let things go so very wrong.

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