29. Coraline
29
Coraline
It’s Sunday morning, the boys are awake and are excited to go back to church today. Jesse will be there and I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since the kiss we shared. It was perfect.
Harrison is dressed and sitting at the table, happily eating a cherry pastry. His messy curls are tamed down this morning.
Michael is licking the icing off of his pastry without actually eating it, which is no surprise. The kid loves sugar and icing. His hair is spiked up into a little mohawk.
“Mom,” Harrison starts, "I have a question."
“What is it, sweetheart?” I ask, pouring my coffee into my favorite cup. The kitchen is filled with the familiar, rich, comforting smell of fresh coffee.
I glance out the window and see that Lucy, Jesse’s dog, is sprawled across his front porch, soaking up the morning sun like she owns it.
"Do you think you’ll ever get back together with my dad?” Harrison asks.
“Only time will tell,” I say, giving a small shrug. “Would you two like it if we started seeing each other again? You know… as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Yes!” they both exclaim in unison, their faces lighting up.
“I have a question too, Mommy,” Michael chimes in, his voice full of seriousness.
I nod my head and lift my eyebrows in encouragement.
“What about my daddy? Will you ever get back with him?" he says with a small frown. "I do like our new daddy, but I miss seeing my old one."
My heart shatters all over again. I expected him to start asking about Nash, but it’s so hard to explain to a four year old that their dad is in jail.
“No, baby,” I say, looking into Michael’s big brown eyes. “Mommy won’t be getting back together with him. I know you miss him, and I know you love him, and that’s okay. But he did some bad things, and he won’t be coming back. I know that’s hard for you to understand, and I’m so sorry. Maybe one day, when you’re a little older, you can go and see him.”
Michael nods slowly, his small face full of quiet understanding.
“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I like Jesse. He’s so much nicer than my other daddy. He never raises his voice or gets mad at me or nothing.”
My heart sinks and rises at the same time. I didn’t even know that was possible. It sinks because of how terrible Nash was to us. It rises because of how good of an influence Jesse is to them. But it rises because of how steady and kind Jesse is to them. How he’s become a quiet but constant source of calm in their lives.
We arrive at Grace Haven right on time and scurry into the pew that we’ve made our own these past few weeks with Shae. She raises an accusatory eyebrow when she sees me. I haven’t told her about the kiss yet. She knows that Jesse has been spending time with the kids but nothing more than that.
I glance to my left and see him sitting a few rows over. Our eyes meet almost instantly, and my stomach does a little flip. I can’t help but blush, the warmth creeping up my neck as I offer him a small, nervous smile.
Instead of smiling back, Jesse stands up and walks toward me. My heart jumps, beating wildly in my chest. Each step he takes feels like it’s in slow motion, and for a brief moment, I wonder if I’m even breathing.
He's been putting the kids and me first ever since he found out about Harrison. I'm thankful that God helped me to let go of all the anger that I had been so desperate to hold on to. It feels so good to not bear that burden anymore.
“Good morning, Cora. Hello, boys,” Jesse says, his voice calm and warm as he gives each of them a fist bump. His eyes linger on me for just a second before he looks down at them. “Do you all mind if I sit here?”
“Of course not,” I reply quickly, the words coming out before I even think about it. My heart is still racing, but I keep my voice steady. We all scoot down to make room for him.
My anxiety decides to activate at that moment and I suddenly become self conscious. The entire congregation can see us all sitting together. It’s not exactly a secret that we were high school sweethearts. I know some of the older folks are probably whispering about it.
I’m hyper-aware of everything around me. My hands feel too sweaty and my breathing feels too fast, too loud. Oh my gosh I hope I don’t smell bad too. I might have horrible coffee breath right now.
Throughout the entire church service, I swear I can feel his presence beside me—like it’s tangible, like he’s a part of me in a way that I haven’t felt in so long.
Every time I sneak a glance at him out of the corner of my eye, I almost have the urge to pinch myself. Is this real? Am I really sitting here, beside him, in front of everyone?
And then I notice it—his leg is shaking, too. He’s nervous, just like I am. It’s strangely comforting, knowing I’m not the only one with butterflies fluttering around inside.
Despite the nerves, we’re sitting together, the four of us, as a family. At this point I know Shae knows something has happened. She keeps smirking at me and giving me a knowing look.
“I’ll explain later,” I silently mouth to her.
I’m all too aware of his open hand resting beside me, just inches from mine. I know that move—it’s one of the oldest tricks in the book to get someone to hold your hand.
I don’t think. I just reach down, my hand trembling slightly as I slide it into his. We both hold still for a moment. He looks down at our entwined hands and then back up at me, his gaze steady. We hold eye contact for just a second too long. Just enough time to make it clear that we’re not just friends anymore.
I don’t look away. Instead, I embrace the moment, feeling a quiet, sure confidence rise in me. I’ve decided that I’m okay with this. I’m okay with taking this step forward together. Because, at this point in life, if we don’t take the chances God gives us, if we keep holding back, we’ll always be left with that “what if?” hanging over us.
And I don’t want any more “what ifs” with Jesse. Not anymore. I want to take this chance—whatever it leads to—even if it means risking my heart again.
After Pappy finishes his sermon, he nods to my Granna, who’s already making her way up to the piano to play for the altar call. He does this every service—offers the chance for someone to come forward and be saved at the old-fashioned altar of prayer. It’s something I’ve seen countless times growing up, but today, it feels different.
As a teenager, I’d responded to an altar call one Wednesday night and dedicated my life to God. Since then, I haven’t really felt the pull to come forward again. Not in the way I do now.
I feel it deep in my chest, this quiet tug, a call I can’t ignore.
I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past few years. I’m not perfect, and I never will be. But I suppose that’s why He calls us as we are —broken, flawed, and in need of grace.
I’ve backslid. I’ve strayed far from the path, away from God, away from the church. I’ve let my pride get in the way. I've been too afraid of what people might think, too consumed with shame about my sins to do what I knew I needed and wanted to do.
A few weeks ago, I felt this same pull to come forward, but I ignored it. I was too stubborn and caught up in my own doubts and fears.
But today… today, I don’t care who’s watching.
I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending like everything’s fine when I know deep down that I need to make it right with God.
So, without thinking any more about it, I stand up, my legs shaky, but my heart sure. Jesse’s hand tightens slightly in mine, as if to steady me, but he doesn’t stop me. He knows.
The boys look up at me, and for a brief moment, I wonder if they understand the weight of this decision. But I don’t give myself time to second guess.
I walk down the aisle, the familiar feeling of the altar pulling me in, calling me back to a place I once knew so well. It’s humbling. It’s terrifying. But it’s also the most freeing thing I’ve done in years.
There, at the altar, with my family by my side, I give my heart fully back to Jesus. I repent of my sins, of the choices I made that led me here, and I rededicate my life to God.
The weight on my shoulders lifts just a little, replaced by the warmth of grace. I feel… whole again. Not perfect, but forgiven. And that, for now, is enough.