Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
“N o way. What the actual—?”
Zac glanced across the locker room at where Logan was looking at his phone.
“What’s happened?” Drew asked, stripping off his practice jersey.
Logan glanced at Zac. “Did you know this?”
“Know what?”
“About your girlfriend.”
Ex, but whatever. “What about her?”
“She’s just been fired from As The Heart Draws .”
He blinked. “What?”
“You didn’t know?”
“How do you know?”
Logan shrugged. “Because I keep up with the industry news. And someone just posted about it on the As the Heart Draws Insta account.”
Drew chuckled. Logan tossed him a dirty look.
“It’s kind of creepy that you know about Zac’s girlfriend before he does,” Nik said.
Truth time. Especially with Drew looking at him like that. “Actually, we’re not together anymore.” If they were, he’d know this for sure. Fake or real. She would’ve told him something this huge. Wouldn’t she?
“I didn’t think they could fire her like that,” Chris said. “Didn’t she have a contract?”
“Do you think it was because she got her hair cut?” Logan asked.
“You can’t fire someone because of a haircut,” Nik scoffed.
“If you could, team management should fire you. That style went out in the eighties, dude.”
Nik stroked his mustache. “I like to think I look like Tom Selleck.”
“The only person who should look like Tom Selleck is Tom Selleck,” Logan said. “You just look like a creepy dude who goes to a strip joint.”
The room fell silent, as Zac grew aware of furtive glances being cast his way. But he wasn’t going to bite.
“Do you know something about the person who’s been pasting Ainsley’s head on stripper bodies?” Drew asked.
Thanks, Drew.
“No.” Logan swore. “If I found out who did that, I’d—” He went on to describe an action that certainly wasn’t in the Bible about what Jesus would do. But it did seem to suggest he was angry that Ainsley had been victimized in this way.
Logan glanced at Zac. “I know she is your girl— was your girl, whatever, but she’s gold, man. And I don’t care what any of you say. Nobody should do that kind of thing to any woman.”
“Preach it,” Chris said.
“Amen,” Zac said. Wow. Logan seemed quite enlightened from the man who had expressed quite different ideas a few months ago.
Drew glanced at Zac, and he shrugged. He mightn’t have made a public announcement in the locker room about his faith, but he hoped dropping little words and phrases would help others see he’d changed. A man didn’t need to use a battering ram to get his point across.
“Ainsley sure has had a rough time of things,” Drew said, as they exited.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“And I don’t just mean about the fact she split up with you.”
Zac cut him a look. “I figured that.”
Drew laughed. Then sobered. Grew thoughtful.
Zac waited, but the dude refused to say more. So he pushed into the quiet break. “You could pray for her, you know.” He might’ve seen in Ainsley’s most recent post that she’d gone to Thetis Island again. Maybe to escape this latest scandal, more likely to see her aunt. What a hard time for them all. Lord, be with them.
Drew huffed, looked away.
They reached their vehicles, but Drew didn’t move, as if he had things to get off his chest. Lord, is this an opening from You? Help me know what to say.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“What part?” He’d said many things.
Drew shrugged.
Oh, this was one of those conversations. Zac leaned against his Porsche, crossed his arms, lifted a brow and waited.
Drew swore, then glanced away. “I used to believe in God.”
“I know. Chris said that once.” He added more softly, “Why did you stop?”
“My sister got sick. She, uh, died.”
“Drew, I didn’t know. I’m really sorry that happened.”
Drew sucked in a deep breath, gave a long exhale. “Anyway, it felt like God wasn’t real, didn’t care, and I couldn’t be bothered with Him when He didn’t seem to bother with us.”
What could he say? Words seemed so useless. “Hey.”
He pushed off his car and wrapped Drew in a hug, just long enough to let that guy know he cared, not too long so it got awkward.
Drew dragged his palms across his face. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“Because God is on your case.”
Drew shook his head. “You need to stop saying that. Because I think He is.”
“He loves you, man.”
“I mean, I want to believe it, and I see you and Chris, and I know others like Mike Vaughan and even Brent-flippin’ Karlsson are Christians, but sometimes it feels too risky. Like, what if I start following Him and He lets me down again?”
Lord? Some help, please. “Were your parents believers?”
“Yeah. They never stopped.”
“Why do you think that is?”
He shrugged. “I guess they needed a crutch.”
“Do you think I need a crutch?”
“Well, obviously you do.”
“Is it a crutch to want to find peace? To find purpose? If it is, then I guess I’m okay with that.” Lord, touch his heart. “Drew, I don’t really think it matters what terminology you use. The fact is that all of us have trials, we all go through times when life sucks. And we can either go through it alone and struggle, like I did for so many years, thinking I knew it all, or we can ask the God who made us to guide our steps and trust that He’s got our lives in His hands.” He scratched his jaw. “Was your sister a believer?”
Drew nodded.
“You wanna see her when you die?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then you need to get right with God. Confess your sins, ask God to forgive you, and let Jesus be your Lord, the One you follow day by day. It’s probably more complicated than that, but that’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Even with the whole Ainsley thing?”
“Especially with the whole Ainsley thing.” It didn’t make sense, but somehow through the past whirling weeks he’d felt a deep sense of peace, like he just knew God was in control. “If God wants us together, then He’s going to have to make a way. But until then, I’m going to do my best to bless her as much as I can.”
Drew sniggered. “Can you believe the nerve of Logan to say what he said before?”
“I think it’s pretty cool that he wants to stand up for women. I’m all for that.”
He glanced across the parking lot, saw Logan was drawing closer. He nodded.
Logan hesitated. “I didn’t mean to sound creepy.”
“Dude, I appreciate that. And appreciate that you care about stuff like that.” Zac shrugged. “If you want to help, then pray for her. She’s got an aunt who’s really sick, and some other stuff that’s going down, and I think she could do with as much support as she can get.”
“I thought you two had broken up,” Logan said.
“It doesn’t mean I stopped caring. Love doesn’t do that.”
Logan lifted a brow. “Love?”
Well, he’d gone and put his foot in it. Better own it. He jerked his chin. “Love.”
He prayed for the two guys as he drove home. Prayed that Drew would let God continue to work in his heart. Prayed for Logan that God would touch him too. Then prayed for Ainsley. For her aunt. For her career. For her house.
Her house. What was happening with her house? If her aunt was as sick as everyone believed, then surely this would be something they would want sorted soon. Now.
And while he wanted to give her space, that didn’t mean he would stop trying to help her. Especially when there was a chance he could do something about one of the stresses in her life. But for that, he would need to talk with Mack, and he really didn’t want to find him via Emmett, who might not be particularly sympathetic to his cause.
What to do…
Lord?
Somehow, he found himself driving into the suburb where her parents lived. Somehow, he found himself driving past her parents’ house. And somehow, at that precise moment, he saw Benson out the front.
Zac parked the Porsche. Got out.
Benson’s eyes widened. “Zac! I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
“Gotta admit, I didn’t expect to be here either.”
“Come in. It’s just me. The girls are with Winifred on the island, and I’m back for a day or so, just to check on things.”
Benson offered him tea, coffee, and Zac accepted a green tea.
“I can’t stand the stuff,” Benson said, “but Ainsley swears by it.”
Ainsley. His heart clenched. Lord, bless her . “Have you seen her?”
“Since she got fired? No. I still can’t believe they would do that to her. What do they think is gonna happen to the show without Ainsley Beckett?”
“I’m more interested in how this is going to affect her career,” Zac murmured.
“I suspect she’ll find something.” Benson sipped his coffee. “She’s always had a thick, independent streak. But then she had to be, to protect her brother and help her mom.”
Zac nodded, even though this was stuff he didn’t know about. He longed to know this woman more, to understand why she’d done what she had, to see what he could do to truly help her. Sometimes staying patient, staying quiet, allowed people to speak. Just like with Drew before. Lord, touch him.
Benson nursed his cup in his hands. “When I came along, Ainsley’s father had left a year before. Just walked out the door. Her mother told me that Ainsley would stand at the window waiting for him to come back, but he never did.”
His heart wrenched at the picture. Poor Ainsley. “What happened to him? Is he in contact at all?”
“He died. Never got in touch again.”
Strike one.
Benson sighed. “Then, not two years later, her grandfather killed his wife.”
Strike two. “So tragic.”
“Yeah. She died after she intervened to prevent him from abusing Ainsley.”
His breath snagged. “Seriously?”
Benson dipped his chin. “She never speaks of it, so her mother and I don’t think anything happened, but still, the man was evil, and none of us were sad when he got what he deserved in prison.”
No wonder she had issues trusting men. That was strikes three, four, five right there. “I can’t believe how much this family has suffered.”
“Ainsley is a tough cookie, but it’s been rough. It wasn’t long after her uncle—another abuser—left Winifred, just when she’d got the news about her cancer.” Benson placed his cup down. “Then came the incident with Baden.”
“What incident?” Zac asked quickly.
Benson looked at him. “I don’t feel like it’s my place to share. I’ve tried to be a steady role model for her, but she’s had some pretty defining moments in a life where men have let her down in a big way.”
Just in the little that Benson had shared, he could see that. Lord, heal Ainsley.
Benson sighed. “Of course God can change hearts, but Zac, you need to know there are reasons for why she acts the way she does.”
His heart broke for her. Sure were. Poor Ainsley. People might look up to her, but they had no idea of what lay behind the smiling facade. “I’ve been praying for her.”
“I know, I can tell,” Benson said. “The way you look at her, you’re invested, even if she’s too scared to trust you.”
“I want her to trust me.”
“Then be patient. Help her to see you’re trustworthy.”
Love was patient, love was kind. It always trusted. Lord, lead me.
Zac didn’t know what he was expecting when he went to Mack and Emmett’s. But it wasn’t to see a perfectly normal apartment, not styled in any theatrically clichéd way. There were a few fancy armchairs and theater posters lining the wall that gave a nod to Mack’s line of work, but apart from that, nothing else. Other than a photograph of Ainsley on the mantelpiece, her mouth wide and eyes sparkling in one of those genuine smiles he recognized.
“Good picture, isn’t it?” Mack said.
Zac nodded, straightened. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but Benson gave me your number.”
“So you mentioned on the phone.”
Right. Unlike Benson, Mack didn’t seem a fan of his. Best to get to the point. “So, I know that Ainsley is on the island with your aunt, but I also know she’s been really stressed about the house, which is why I wanted to ask you about the zoning.”
“Why?”
“Because I know she wants it sorted before your aunt dies.”
“Oh, Zac, how can you say that to him?” Emmett murmured.
“Because it’s the truth. And I’m sick and tired of playing pretend anymore.”
Mack eyed him. “What is it you want to know?”
“Do you know what the specifics are regarding the zoning? I have some people I could perhaps contact, and if it helps get it sorted sooner, then surely that’s got to be better than waiting until it’s too late.”
“Why would you do this? Oh, you’re doing this to get back into her good books, right?”
“I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do. Because I liked your aunt.”
“She’s not dead yet,” Mack snapped.
“Sorry. That was a slip of the tongue. I like Winifred. And I think she’d get a kick out of knowing the house was sorted, if there truly is as little time as everyone seems to think.”
Mack eyed him for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine then.”
Zac exhaled.
“Ainsley has sent me a lot of stuff about the house, some of it from her lawyer, but I don’t read it all.” He moved to a table and pulled out a folder. “I’ve got most of the documents here.”
“Do you mind if I get a copy of this? I can take a photo with my phone. I just might know a few people who could help expedite matters.”
“Really?”
Zac shrugged. “Some people think having celebrity status is unfair, but when it comes to matters like this, I don’t mind pressing on the ‘Vancouver-won-the-Stanley-Cup’ button.”
Emmett giggled. “Bravo.”
“And if it means it’s one less thing for Ainsley to have to worry about, I’m happy.”
“Even if she doesn’t get back together with you?”
Zac nodded. “I love her. I’ll do whatever I can to prove it.” And love was patient, love was kind, love kept hoping, love persevered. “But hey, like I said earlier, I’m hoping that this will bless her and your aunt while there’s still time. And I know that with everything else going on in Ainsley’s world, this is just something small, that might not even work, but if it does and it helps her just a little bit, then I’ll be glad.”
Mack leaned back against the plush sofa and studied him.
“What?”
“You’re the real deal, aren’t you?”
“I’ve always tried to be.”
Mack shook his head. “I told her this fake relationship between you two was a dumb idea, that she’d end up regretting it. If it makes you feel any better, she does.”
His heart flickered. But no, he wouldn’t go down that path. Not yet. He cleared his throat. “So the house zoning stuff?”
“Sure. You might as well take the folder. It’s all on emails. I can print them off again.” He handed Zac the folder. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
Mack nodded. “Keep in touch.”
* * *
Some days, it felt like she lived a dream. Like she was Anne of Green Gables living on windswept Prince Edward Island, making the most of the time as they headed into spring. On those days, she could play pretend, just like she had when she was younger, and she imagined herself with red hair and not brown, imagined a life that wasn’t filled with tragedy like what she’d known.
On those days she tried to focus on the good things, the little heart buoys of life, like the smell of sea air, or watching leaves dancing in the air, or spotting the unfurling of pink blossoms on the fruit trees in her aunt’s garden, each one a tiny pinprick of light and life and hope. For most of the time, life seemed gray, as her aunt’s demise grew more certain every day.
In some ways, she was glad to have been fired from her job. She didn’t have to be Abigail anymore, didn’t have to pretend anymore. She could be grieving niece and chief cook and bottle washer, while her mother and aunt made the most of their time together.
Aunty Win was too sick to paint now. She slept a lot, and when she was awake she talked with Ainsley’s mom. That allowed time for Ainsley to take long walks on the beach, to lift her hands and let the wind buffet her cheeks, to just be. Just herself, God, and the wind and rain.
The world had shrunk into this space. Benson was here some of the time, Mack had come a couple of times too. He’d be here on the weekend, and she’d return to the city, do some of her commitments, say hi to Louie, who was being looked after by Michael, before returning. She could not regret this time, knowing her family would soon shrink again, as four blood relatives would become three.
The worries about her job, her career, the stupid photoshopped images seemed to fade into insignificance. Her one regret? That the house wasn’t ready. Well, it might be ready on the inside, thanks to the builders and decorators, but without the planning permission, it would never be the safe space that women needed.
Her lawyer had emailed many times, but there was still no progress. She wondered sometimes if the application had fallen through a bureaucratic crack, but even that was not helpful for her peace of mind. She needed to stay calm to keep her focus on what was real, on her family, on God. And in this bubble of precious time, remember that in the midst of everything, God’s love still flowed.
God’s love. Without the noise, with everything filtered out except the most important things, she’d come to a fresh understanding of how much she needed God’s love. She’d thought she understood before, but there was nothing like clinging to God while the tempests raged. Yet despite her fears, God’s love remained, a sure and steady presence, a guard around her heart. She might have pushed Zac away, but he’d been right to break off things. She needed this time to focus on family, on God, on knowing who she was in Christ. Christ’s death on that cross had set her free from the past; so why did she keep writhing around instead of standing firm on what God had done? The patterns of the past didn’t have to define her future; God—the Holy Spirit within her—could help her stand strong and free. Instead, she’d let fear dictate her actions. Just like she’d done with Zac.
Zac. Her heart panged. So maybe there was another regret. She wished she had ended things better with Zac. But that was a thought she didn’t dare linger on as she knew her heart was only too quick to reel in the angst. Instead, she needed to pray blessings on him. That God would keep him safe. That God would bring along the right woman for him one day. That God would grant the desires of his heart.
“Lord, forgive me for not being careful with his heart. Forgive me for taking him for granted. Forgive me for not trusting You. I don’t know what You have for my life in the future, but You do. Help me to let that be enough. To let You be enough.” Her knees buckled, and she sank onto wet grass. “I’ve got nothing, God. I need You to be my everything.”
She must look like a wild woman crouched over in the wind that held traces of rain. But she didn’t care. It didn’t matter what she looked like. What mattered was that God looked at her heart, though it might be battered and bruised from the past few months, and was likely to ache with fresh bruises that still lay ahead. Man saw the outward appearance, but God saw her heart. He always had, and she needed it cleansed again. Both for now, and for whatever God had in the future. Where she’d stand on God’s promises that she’d been forgiven, that His presence was always with her, that He had good plans for her, just like He did for all who loved Him and were called according to His purposes.
“Lord, have Your way.”