Page 104 of To Believe In You
“You do know most bands don’t make it.” She laughed. “I didn’t start to worry about more than your career options until you mentioned Nadia.”
“I told you about her?”
“In passing. I called you, but you were late to meet her and couldn’t talk. You were rushed and cagey, and for the first time, I realized how much the choices you were making would impact the rest of your life. Like, from then on, it wasn’t just a skip year between high school and college. With a wife or a kid to consider when you came back, you wouldn’t be able to dedicate yourself to the same things. At least, not as easily. Then she was gone again, but you got cagier than ever, and I realized having a wife or a kid would’ve been worlds easier than some of the other stuff you could get into.”
He hung his head. Last time had gone so badly. Would his life turn out better if he backed out of Awestruck now?
“But colleges have party scenes, too, and who’s to say you wouldn’t have gone down a similar path, regardless?”
“There’s an encouraging thought.”
“Your path is your path, Matt, and God knew every step of the way before you took one of them. You’re stubborn as all get out. My theory is, you needed to know how much you needed Him. He let you pick a path that would get through that thick skull of yours.”
“Great.” Stubbornness, a thick skull, and a painful path he’d brought on himself.
Sounded about right. Discouraging, but right.
What trouble would his thick skull bring on him next?
“But Hedidget through to you. And Gannon and John didn’t succumb to the same things you did. So is Awestruck an inherently bad choice? I’m your sister and I worry, but objectively, I can’t blame the band. I do think you’re going to have to stay vigilant and connected, but that’s true no matter what. At least all of you are older and wiser now than you were.”
“You think it’ll be okay?”
“I’m choosing to believe it will be.”
Not exactly glowing with confidence then.
The stream of passengers had ended, and a flight attendant appeared. She doled out a lemon-lime soda for Krissy and a water for Matt. Instead of drinking, he rotated the glass on his tray, his touch displacing bubbles trapped by ice cubes. They rose to the surface and disappeared into the air.
God might’ve intended him to do the same—rise to sobriety, then disappear into anonymity.
Krissy asked, “You ever wonder why Jade wasn’t afraid of you?”
“Huh?”
“At Christmas, when you washed up at Mom and Dad’s, a couple of months sober and still looking pretty rough. You stepped in the house like the prodigal son fresh from the pig pen, complete with the unhappy older brother, but Jade warmed up to you in minutes.”
He shrugged. “She’s not shy.”
“She’s not, but she doesn’t sit on strangers’ laps, curl up, and fall asleep either.”
Matt hadn’t known what to do when Jade had climbed into the armchair with him. The whole morning had been awkward—stilted conversation, gifts for him when he’d brought none, well-deserved annoyance radiating from Pete. He’d expected someone to throw a fit about Jade snuggling up to him, but Mom had smiled, and Krissy had mimed that he ought to put an arm around the girl’s shoulders. Until then, he hadn’t realized he’d lifted his hands away as if she carried the plague. In minutes, she’d been asleep, her head on his shoulder.
“I had pictures of you around the house. She asked about you, and I said you were my brother, but you were sick. And …” Were those tears shimmering in Krissy’s eyes? “And she asked if it was like her brother. Because, of course, she never met him, either.”
Jade was an only child. As Krissy struggled to maintain composure, a sense of failure rang in Matt’s ears as loudly as a jet engine. He’d heard something about her having a miscarriage, but he’d forgotten. He’d been embroiled in his own problems and couldn’t recall how far along she’d been. Another failure.
Krissy dabbed her eye with the knuckle of her index finger. “I said yes, you were sick a little like her brother—to an adult, I know, the circumstances were completely different, but it was life or death. And that much, Jade could understand. So I said, yes, you were that sick, but God could still save you. So, she prayed for you every night at bedtime. When you showed up at Mom and Dad’s, you weren’t a stranger. You were an answer to prayer. And that’s why she treated you the way she did.”
Matt palmed his eyes. They were dry, but if he kept thinking about everything he’d put his family through and everything he’d missed, they wouldn’t stay that way.
Krissy sniffled. “But anyway, I have a point.” With concentrated effort, she blinked and forced a cheerful expression that wasn’t fooling anyone. “Nadia knows Axel, and I don’t. She is doing the best she can for her son, and I respect you for honoring her wishes. But I don’t want you taking that situation as a representation of what you deserve on a larger scale. You may not know your son, but you are worth knowing. That’s why I told Jade about you. As long as you stick close to God, I don’t think you’re going to relapse, but even if you do, you’ll still be worth it all.”
“I’m not going to relapse.” Not if he remembered the stakes. Replacing the dump truck would be a nice gesture, but it would only be the start. He owed Jade an uncle, Pete and Krissy a brother, Mom and Dad a son. He owed them reliability and concern and company and relief.
But even the idea of stepping into the roles he’d failed seemed like too little, too late.
He’d never be able to repay his debts to his family, and certainly not those he owed Nadia and Axel.
