Echoes of Eternity

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

E ach step Ryan Fitzgerald took helped ease the weight of losing his father, even if it was just for a moment. His childhood home lay a full two blocks behind him. He was almost to his destination. Raking a hand through his hair, he didn’t look back as he rounded the corner of A Street, headed for 14th. His father’s lawyer had just broken the news to him and his four siblings that the Cedarwood Creek Grill, the prized possession of their family, had been left to him by his father. It was a surprise to everyone and a spark of joy to him in an otherwise dismal day.

As he arrived at 14th street, the corner edge of the Cedarwood Creek Grill sign came into his view, just through the top of the evergreen trees of Eastern Washington. He smiled. It was the first time he had smiled in the last four days since losing his father and arriving back to his childhood hometown of Cedarwood Creek. The smile soon fell away as he took a deep breath and continued onward. The weight of what lay ahead pelted his mind like a barrage of missiles. How would he ever run the family business from all the way in California? What if he failed? The last thing Ryan wanted to do was drive his father’s business and legacy into the ground. A daunting task that he could barely fathom when grief was at the forefront of his mind.

Continuing his steps, he cut through the tree line and came into the back alley behind the grill. He slowed his pace as he arrived at the red beat-up metal door on the backside of the restaurant. This door did a lot more than a typical door. It held much of Ryan’s memories of growing up in the small town of Cedarwood Creek. The dents and the old worn stickers, still intact, told stories of years gone by and what life was like for him and his four siblings. For instance, the big dent in the bottom right came from his father, Frank, plowing the alley of snow with Mr. Henderson’s new ATV when Ryan was twelve. He had ran the ATV and plow straight into the door. And the worn Incubus music band sticker right by the door handle. A remembrance of Ryan’s first kiss with Heidi at his first concert. This door led not only into the kitchen of the Cedarwood Creek Grill, but into a world of Ryan’s past, a time in which is father was alive and Ryan was just a boy. And now the door also held his future.

Emily, Ryan’s wife, suddenly came into view from around the corner of the red brick building. Sighing with a sound of relief, she lifted her hands outward as she walked toward him. “There you are. You left without even a goodbye, Ryan. I was worried about you . . .”

As he turned toward her, he saw a flicker of worry mixed with concern in her ocean-blue eyes. He didn’t mean to place it there, and a part of him wanted to reach out and snatch it. But he couldn’t. If losing his father was teaching him anything, it was teaching him how weak he truly was in life. It didn’t seem to matter how hard he'd tried since losing his father. Ryan knew he hadn’t been the strong pillar his family needed in this time of crisis. The reality was that his dad was gone, and something broke inside him that day. And he had not a clue how to fix it.

Shaking his head, his voice was gentle and just above a whisper as he finally responded to her. “I’m sorry, Em . . .”

He walked over to her and gently brought his hands up to her sides, holding her.

“I . . . I just had to get out of that house.”

“I get that, but without saying anything? To me? You just slipped out of your dad’s study and right out the front door. I want to be here for you in your pain.”

Suddenly, he could feel his heart leap back onto the emotional roller coaster he had ridden since losing his father. His throat clenched, his eyes welled with hot tears, and he felt even the slightest touch could cause another wave of grief and pain come spilling over the edge.

“I just need a moment right now.”

His hands fell away from her, and he walked toward the door.

She stopped him with her words. “I am your wife. Please let me care for you, Ryan.”

“I know you care, but . . .” He looked at her, really looked at her. Those eyes were his home, his joy, his comfort. And yet in that moment, they fell short of what he needed. Though she was the woman he had been married to for sixteen years and who had birthed their three beautiful children, she couldn’t provide the comfort his soul craved. She was standing there and waiting for something that Ryan just couldn’t give her—his pain and his heartache. “I know you care, Emily, and I love you. But there are some journeys in life that no one, not even a spouse, can go on with us, and I’m on one of those journeys right now.”

He turned away from his wife and back toward the red door. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he looked over at her once more. “I’ll meet you back at the house.”

In the grill’s office a short time later, Ryan sighed as he slipped the last few months’ paid invoices back into their manila folder and smoothed a hand over his face. His father hadn’t digitalized anything related to the business. Old school didn’t begin to describe the situation. Ryan yearned deeply to just leave California behind and relocate to Cedarwood Creek to take care of the business, the house, and his mother Veronica. He felt torn knowing Emily wouldn’t be happy in Cedarwood Creek. As he thought more about a plan for the business, he relaxed into his father’s wooden office chair that had been there since he could remember. His right hand naturally moved to the scuff atop the right armrest where a chunk of wood was missing. He picked at it as he thought about the overwhelming nature of his predicament.

His thoughts soon drifted to earlier at the house, during the wake after the funeral. The slideshow playing on multiple televisions throughout the house, the memorial and flowers set up in the dining room in honor of his father, and the friends and family gathered around laughing, crying, and sharing memories of the life Frank had shared with them all. It all felt like a bad nightmare, and he was just waiting to wake up.

Then his heart dipped, remembering the mysterious text message from an unknown number on his father’s cellphone.

In the midst of his grief, he had somehow forgotten about it entirely.

Ryan had been signing the guest book when his father’s phone buzzed with a text message. The phone sat right beside the guest book on the table. Lifting the phone, he read the text.

Feeling distant. Need to talk to you, Frank. XOXO

Rising to his feet, he started to pace in the office. He pondered why he had chosen to delete it.

His mother Veronica’s somber expression came into his mind’s eye. He couldn’t tell her. Then he thought about the conversation he had five minutes prior to that with Bill, the head deacon at his father’s church. Bill was pressing him for answers on what would happen with the business, offering to purchase it. Bill went on to ask about the financial situation of his mother and even went as far as to ask where his father’s tools were located because Frank had never returned his impact drill.

Ryan couldn’t risk people in town finding out about the text.

Stopping mid-stride, his eyes caught a framed picture on the wall of his father shaking hands with Pastor Chris on the day his father was ordained as a deacon.

Sitting back down in the office chair, Ryan raked his hands through his hair. Then suddenly, an epiphany bloomed in his mind. His father was gone, and any secret sins his father had were buried with him that morning at eleven o’clock. It made no good sense to go digging up what had been laid to rest.

Jason Fitzgerald, Ryan’s younger brother, knocked lightly on the door frame of the office. Ryan sat up a little straighter in the office chair.

“Em said I could find you here.” Grabbing a metal chair, he slid it over and sat down about a foot away from Ryan. “You okay, man? Your wife seemed pretty concerned about you at the house.”

“The hysterics of our three sisters was too much for me, Bro. I had to get out of there. Plus . . . I just miss Dad and being in that house wasn’t helping. I can’t believe he’s truly gone. It still doesn’t feel real.”

“I miss him too. Hey. Can I pray with you?”

“Yes, please.” His brother’s faith far surpassed his own. It reminded him of their father and brought a comfort to his aching heart.

Jason brought a hand up and rested it on Ryan’s shoulder as they both bowed their heads. At first, Jason couldn’t speak a word. It was as if Ryan could feel his brother’s pain in that moment because it was his pain too.

Clearing his throat, Jason spoke. “God. What lies before us is a mystery. It’s a journey we never wanted to go on. A life where our earthly father is no longer here with us . . . Your Word promises to be near the broken hearted. Well, Lord, we are those broken hearts. Help us navigate this new life that lays before us. Comfort us in our time of need, God. Amen.”

“Amen.” Wiping his face of fresh tears, Ryan let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you.”

Jason smiled as he wiped his eyes and shook his head. “Thank God for His comfort.”

Ryan felt uneasy. “What if I don’t feel God’s comfort, Jason?”

“Pray and ask for it.” Jason smiled. “He gives liberally to all who seek Him.”

“Okay. I’ll work on that.” Thinking of the house, his sisters, and the reading of the will, Ryan asked, “Anything else happen after I left?”

“He left me the watch. Too bad it’s been missing since we were little kids. I only remember pictures.”

“That’s rough. You and I both know the grill should’ve gone to you. You’ve been in this town from childhood.” Ryan stood, pushing the chair under the desk.

Jason rose to his feet and placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “But Dad gave it to you, Ryan. I’m okay with that, and you’ll have to be okay with it too.”

“I am. Did you see the way Alyssa, Paige, and Erin looked at me? They were seething with disgust. I don’t want them upset with me.”

“Don’t waste your energy on them. They’ll get over it, and if not, who cares? This was what Dad wanted. It’s not about them.”

“Right.” Ryan tightened his lips together as he thought about the lack of digitalization in the business. “I’m not sure how to pull this off from California. Everything needs digitalized.”

Jason smiled. “With my help, plus the fact you have Steven, a phenomenal manager. You’ll be fine.”

Ryan nodded, thinking more of Steve. “How long has he been here now?”

“He’s been rocking it here for five years now.”

“Cool.” Lifting his eyebrows, Ryan tilted his head. “Wait . . . You would still help even though you didn’t get the grill?”

“Of course. I never helped Dad with the thought that I’d get the grill someday. It’s just the family business. Plus, I love my IT job with the town. I want to be involved with this place and that will never change.” Turning, he placed a hand on the nearby wooden beam. “This is our family’s grill and our father’s legacy. I could never walk away even if I wanted to.”

“Thank you. The first thing I want you to help me with is getting everything digitalized. The books, the invoices, everything needs to be brought online and in the cloud.”

“You got it, Brother.”

Sitting on a stool at the kitchen island in her husband’s childhood home, Emily could hear whispers about Ryan getting the grill coming from the living room where the three sisters and mother were huddled together. Rising from the stool, she went out onto the back patio of the house, closing the sliding door and whispers behind her.

A tranquil stillness filled the air as she journeyed over to the above-ground swimming pool just off the patio. Frank had kept the pool operational up until his sudden heart attack. Three years ago, he purchased a heater for the pool so that even in the colder months, like that particular day in March, anyone that wanted to could swim.

Folding her arms against the metal railing of the pool, she stared across the glass-like surface of the water as memories of summers gone by danced across her mind. Frank playing in the pool with the kids; Ryan and Jason racing across the pool to see who was fastest.

Dipping her fingertips into the cool water below, Emily let them slice through the still surface. She couldn’t believe he was gone. Tears welled in her eyes as the long talks with her father-in-law flowed through her mind like pouring buckets. In a lot of ways, she felt Frank was a better father to her than her own.

Thoughts of Ryan slipped across the surface of her mind. Her heart twisted in pain, aching as she knew how much her husband was hurting. She wanted to help him, to ease the hurt and to be there for him in his greatest time of need. But she couldn’t seem to get close enough to help. She knew she’d have to trust that God was taking care of him and be there for him when he was ready.

A tear slipped down her cheek and traveled to her chin, dropping into the water below. Ripples radiated outward. Protect him, Lord. Please . . .

Wiping her cheeks, she lifted her gaze and caught sight of her oldest child, Elizabeth, sprawled out on the yellow children’s slide across the yard. She ventured over to her. Bending a knee on the grass, she gently swiped strands of her daughter’s brown hair away from her eyes, revealing Elizabeth’s own pain in the matter.

“How are you doing, baby girl?”

Lifting her right shoulder a fraction, she locked her gaze on the blue skies above.

“Well, tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“Grandpa . . . I didn’t even get to say bye, Mom. He’s just . . . gone.”

A warm, gentle breeze brushed Emily’s cheek in that moment. It felt like a hello from the other side, even though she didn’t believe in that kind of thing. “Grandpa might be gone, but his memory still lives on in our hearts.”

Pulling her daughter by the hand, she brought her teenager into her lap. Maneuvering Elizabeth close to her chest, she could feel her heartbeat. Life became more precious in that moment as she comforted her daughter in her grief.

Across the yard, the metal gate creaked open. For a second, Emily forgot about Frank being gone and jerked her head suddenly, hoping to see him walk through the gate like she had so many times over the years. Reality quickly caught up. In her view came her husband, Ryan, and his brother, Jason.

Elizabeth and Emily stood as they approached the two of them. Her eyebrows lifted as her gaze connected with Ryan. Her voice gentle, she asked, “Decided to come back?”

“Yeah.”

Jason patted his shoulder and motioned his body toward the house. “I’m going to head inside.”

“Good.” Emily added, “Go straighten out those crazy sisters of yours.”

Jason laughed as he shook his head. “I’m no miracle worker, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m going to go hang with the boys, Mom . . . If that’s okay?” Elizabeth looked at her mother as if she was awaiting approval. She had loved seeing her daughter be more attentive to the way she spoke to her and Ryan in the last few days, and also how much more affectionate she had become toward her brothers, Jack and Conner. It was nice, even if it came through heartache.

“Sure, honey.”

Once alone with Ryan in the yard, Emily reached for his hand, hoping he wouldn’t pull away like he had done at the gravesite that morning. While he didn’t move away, his hand was limp and seemed uninterested to be resting in hers. “Talk to me, Ryan. What’s going on?”

“My father passed away.”

“I know that, but?—”

Jerking his hand out from hers, he shook his head. “There’s no but, Em. Okay? I’m just trying to process.”

“We can’t move here so you can run the grill.”

He glared, his voice just above a whisper. “I never said we were.”

Touching her forehead, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. You know I loved Frank, but our entire life is in California, and I’m just scared.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he shook his head. “Scared of what?”

“ You .” Swallowing the lump in her throat, her lips trembled as she mustered the strength to continue her train of thought. “I’m sure it’s just the grief, but it feels to me like you’re changing. This man you’re becoming isn’t the man I’ve raised three children with. He’s different. I don’t know . . . I’m being paranoid and stupid. I just can’t help but feel scared.”

Taking a step closer, he grabbed each of her hands gently and pulled her in close. Then he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m not changing, Emily. I’m grieving. These last four days have been a blur, and I know I haven’t been the most present father to the kids or husband to you. And I . . .” He let a breath out from his lips as he paused. His voice strained to continue. “I’m just trying to survive.”

Pulling back from his embrace, Emily placed a hand on his chest as she peered into his glassy, red eyes. “Your father would want you to live, not merely survive, Ryan. Even right now, right after his passing . . . but I know that’ll take time, and I’m going to do my best to give you grace and space, but don’t forget to live.”

As he sat on the couch, Ryan shuffled through pictures of his father that had been hand-selected for the funeral. A favorite verse of his father’s echoed through his thoughts.

yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

James 4:14

Hearing Jack and Conner, his five- and six-year-old boys, run from the bathroom to the guest room where they were sleeping caused his jaw to tighten. He had told them not to run multiple times that day. Tossing the pictures on the coffee table, he stood and walked down the hallway toward the guest room.

Emily popped out of the room they were staying in, meeting him in the hallway. “What’s wrong, Ryan?”

“Nothing. I’m going to pray and tuck the boys in.”

“ Ryan.” Her eyes darted between both his, appearing to dig for something more wrong than the fact he had just lost his father.

Walls rising all around his heart, he barricaded himself in. He wasn’t sure if it was to keep her out or to protect himself from feeling any emotion in the moment. He felt exhausted emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

“Please, just let me go pray with our boys and tuck them in.”

She stepped aside, releasing him from what felt like an interrogation. He knew she meant well, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the only way he could be strong for her, for his mom, and for his children was if he didn’t show the storm within his heart. As he finally walked into the room, he shut the door behind him. A measure of calmness filled the moment. That was until it was interrupted by Jack’s leap from the bed toward Ryan, forcing him to catch his full body weight mid-air.

“Let’s play, Daddy!” Jack exclaimed.

Peeling his son off, he set him back onto the bed beside Conner. Guilt over his lack of playfulness weighed heavy on his heart but he ignored it. The thought of playing and laughing had no draw to him. “It’s time for bed, boys.”

“Are you sad about Grandpa?” Conner piped up.

He tilted his head, quiet for a moment as he looked into his son’s eyes and attempted not to lose his ability to control his emotions. “Of course I am.”

“Me too.” Conner frowned. “I’m going to miss swimming with him. He made it fun to swim.”

Ryan’s heart ached with a pain so deep he felt as if death was an inch away. Shielding his sons from the pain, he forced a smile and nodded. “He made everything fun. Let’s pray.”

After praying, he kissed each of their foreheads, pausing for a moment longer than normal. He wanted to live in that moment, to never depart from their presence.

“I love you.”

Jack replied, “I love you too, Daddy. I’m sorry you don’t have your dad anymore.”

Fighting the urge to break apart in front of his boys, Ryan paused, composing himself. Then he replied, “Thank you.”

Once in the hallway, Ryan leaned his forehead against the wall and wept quietly. Whispers of the past and memories of time spent with his father flooded his mind and penetrated the very depths of his soul. His heart lifted an honest prayer in that moment, Why’d he have to leave us so early?

Ryan could feel the sorrow within stirring the ever-growing darkness that seemed to cast a shadow over his entire life. It was like a darkened lens that rested over every part, dulling the color and adding a tinge of gray. The battle with this darkness was fierce and moment by moment for Ryan. He felt irritated, sad, and unsure of everything.

His mother’s familiar voice carried from the kitchen and across the house to his ears. “Ryan.”

Wiping his eyes, he ventured down the hall, out through the living room, and into the kitchen where his mother was pouring two cups of coffee. Lifting her gaze to meet his, her lips curled into a fraction of a smile, her own pain evident in her eyes. “There you are. Here.”

“Thank you.” Taking the mug of steaming liquid, he took a sip.

She asked, “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Ten o’clock.” He took a seat on the stool at the island. Rubbing the rim of his mug with his thumb, he stared at the brown liquid inside. He didn’t want to leave Cedarwood Creek. Not now, not ever. Peering up at his mother, he lifted his eyebrows. “So, what’s your plan, Mom?”

Breathing deeply, she peered at the ceiling appearing to fight back tears. “To survive another day.”

“You can always come visit us in California.”

“I know.” She sighed as her eyes met his in the moment. “I don’t honestly know what I’m going to do at this point, Ryan. Your father was my entire world and now he’s gone. I know he’s dancing and having a good time in Heaven, but . . .”

Reaching across the counter, he touched his mother’s hand. “We’re not dancing.”

Wiping her eyes, she forced another smile. “Sissy wants me to come live with her in Buffalo, but I don’t know about that.”

“I see.”

“This song came on the radio right after your dad passed. I was on my way home from the hospital. It was called First Things First. It spoke to me in such a profound way in that moment.” She paused as she began to cry. Recomposing herself, she smiled through the tears as she continued. “I have to keep first things first and that means keeping my eyes and heart fixed on God.”

“That’s hard . . .” Ryan looked down at his coffee as he continued. “I thought earlier today about Romans 8:28, promising that all things work together for good. Hard to see on a day like today.”

She shrugged and took a drink of her coffee. “God doesn’t reveal the entire picture to us at one time, just the next step. Don’t forget that, son. It’s one step at a time.”

Emily walked into the kitchen and over to Ryan, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Kissing his cheek, she sat down on the stool beside him. Glancing over, he could see her eyes were red, cheeks moist with fresh tears.

“You okay?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Not really . . . I know he was your dad, and your husband, Roni . . . . but I am having such a hard time with this.”

Ryan’s mother Veronica walked around the counter and over to her, hugging her. “Frank loved you like a daughter, Emily. I know you two were close. You have every right to feel terrible right along with us.”

Turning on the stool, she hugged Veronica. “Thank you.”

Wiping fresh tears from his cheeks, Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat and stood.

“I better go finish packing.” As his mother and Emily released from their hug, he leaned down and kissed his wife on the lips. “I’ll be in the bedroom.”

As he entered the bedroom, he glanced over at a picture of his parents on the nightstand. His gaze fixed on his father in the photograph. A deep longing for his father brought an ache to his soul. I miss you more than life . . .

Emily knocked lightly on the door as she walked in.

“How are you?” Emily came up beside him at the open suitcase on the bed. “Stupid question . . . I know.”

His chin dipped. “No. It’s okay and I’m okay.”

“How do we go back to our lives and just go on?”

“I don’t know.” He sat down on the bed, and Emily sat beside him.

“How do you feel towards God right now, Ryan?”

“I’m confused. I mean, I still believe and all that . . . I just . . .” Pausing, he took a breath and continued. “I just don’t understand the ‘why’. I also feel like God is a million miles away at the moment.”

“Did you talk to Jason about it?”

“I did. He said I need to go to God . . . the problem is I already feel like I’ve done that.”

“We just have to trust that God has a plan.”

The soft rub of his wife’s hand against his back eased a portion of the ache in his heart.

Lifting his gaze to meet hers, he smiled a fraction as his eyes welled with tears. “Thank God I have you.”