Chapter Six
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Brent was exhausted when he got home from the restaurant. The heaviness of unloading that bomb had taken its toll. Neither of them had been able to work up an appetite, so they’d called it an early night. He needed to get ready to leave the next morning. Clara, she’d told him, needed to think.
He went down to his basement to decompress. He picked up the piece of wood he’d been working on and narrowed his eyes. It had come out exactly the way he’d wanted. Too bad he couldn’t say the same for the relationship.
Brent replayed the entire evening in his mind.
He hated to disappoint Clara like that. He knew it was asking a lot of her to even consider this type of long-distance relationship.
It wasn’t what she had signed on for when they began dating.
But this deployment wasn’t within his control, a fact that was becoming harder for him to accept by the minute.
He wished things were different. He knew that if he and Clara were to sustain their relationship, they would eventually have to face separations. If only they could have had more time together before having to endure one of this magnitude.
He knew he should spend the evening packing to get ready for the deployment. The only thing he cared about, though, was completing Clara’s gift. He needed to get it right.
He held it up to the lightbulb that hung from the ceiling to inspect it.
With the carving complete, Brent needed to start the process of sanding the wood in preparation for staining.
He would finish it tonight. He would give it to Dave and ask him to deliver it to Clara’s house on Christmas morning.
Thinking about Christmas, Brent started to grieve over all the canceled plans. His Christmas checklist was now obsolete. The entire mission aborted before it even began.
As he sanded the wood, he chewed over the possible outcomes. What were their chances, really? It was certainly possible that a deployment could bring them closer together, but more likely things could simply fizzle out between them the longer he was away.
He knew he could commit to making it work, but would Clara actually be willing to go through all of this? Or was this whole situation too much for her? He wouldn’t blame her if it was.
Well, tomorrow would be his first clue. Clara had told him she would come to see him off. Though after an evening alone to think about things, she might not show up. The thought caused his entire body to deflate.
Clara was special. The feelings Brent had for her told him she was worth holding on to.
A year away, and she’d surely be snatched up by someone else before he returned.
Possibly even by that ex-boyfriend boss of hers.
No, she was far too important to him. Maybe he couldn’t change his circumstances, but unfortunate timing or not, he wasn’t dumb enough to let her go already.
He thought back to that fateful autumn day two months ago when they had first met.
Downtown Cranberry Pines had been filled with maple trees, brimming with orange leaves.
He instantly understood why his squadron commander had loved the town.
The guys were all excited to host his retirement party at the fancy hotel there.
When the sales manager met them in the lobby, Brent’s mood brightened even more.
She had a unique bounce to her step, and her cheeks glowed.
He never imagined that by the end of that day they’d be going on their first date.
Over cocktails that night, he’d been instantly smitten.
He’d found himself losing a bit of that control he’d always held onto so tightly.
Brent was far too level-headed to believe in love at first sight.
Still, he knew there was something about Clara that caused him to throw out that mental checklist he’d carried around for years.
That night, he scrapped it all down to one thing: He wanted someone just like her.
Brent looked down now at the gift he was holding.
A perfectly formed star, carved out of wood by his own two hands.
It was a homemade tree topper for her Christmas tree.
Made from a single piece of wood and about the size of a dinner plate, it wasn’t anything remarkable.
He thought about the addition he’d added last night—carving in the year.
It was a tiny gesture he thought might be a positive harbinger for them.
But now he was forced to look at this gift—and their relationship—in a whole new light.
Perhaps a tiny gesture wasn’t what he needed in this situation.
Maybe he needed any omen to be as grand as the original Christmas star itself.
Maybe, much like the magi, he needed to trust in the heavens to guide things where they should go—more than any of his navigational plans.
During his many years flying over dark oceans, he had learned that a night sky full of stars can often lead a pilot better than any instrument could.
In those moments, he often realized how insignificant his sense of control really was.
There was always something so much bigger than himself that was truly guiding his route.
Brent picked up the can of stain he had planned to use on the star and turned it over in his hands, thinking about his next step.
He walked over to the paint cans in the corner.
Faced with the impossible situation before him, Brent had to dig deep into his heart to see what it was telling him.
He closed his eyes. He could see Clara’s blue eyes shining back at him as clearly as if she were standing in front of him.
At that moment, Brent accepted the simple truth: Sometimes life had other ideas. A resolve washed over him, and he gave himself a nod of encouragement. Sometimes his best-laid plans simply needed to change.
He set the can of stain aside and instead reached for the small can of blue paint. It was a gamble, but one he was willing to take. As much as he hated leaving things to chance, when it came to his heart, it seemed he had no other choice.