After Angela left, Eva sat down on the couch ready to flick on the TV. Her brain hurt from all they’d discussed. But as her finger hovered over the remote, an idea formed.
Eva huffed. No. She had to find a new goal. She couldn’t take one more failure.
But what had Angela said? “Is it possible to allow all the pain and the beauty of life to inspire you?” Maybe she’d been looking at it all wrong.
Eva got up and walked to her window. In the distance she could make out the treetops of Prospect Park. A haze covered the skyline of New York City, and buildings jutted against the horizon, creating an intricate puzzle. So different from the mountains of New Zealand, though no less beautiful.
Her life now . . . it was beautiful too. Different from her life with Brent, yes. But still beautiful, because God could use her sorrows to deepen her strength, to draw her closer to himself—maybe even someday to help others going through something similar.
But it would only happen if she allowed him to fill her well of creativity. Not to look to others to do it. Not even to herself alone.
Her fingers tingled. It was time. To try. Even if she failed.
She picked up her phone, opened a text, typed a message, and hit Send.
43
She was more than three years late in accepting Wes’s invitation.
But better late than never.
Angela sat like a sardine lined up with eleven other people, six in each row. Eva and a man she’d never met before today were strapped together directly in front of Angela and the instructor she’d been paired with—John or something like that. She’d been too nervous during the brief instructional video and waiver signing to pay much attention to his name.
For such a tiny plane, its engine roared outside as it took them higher and higher into the air, heading for ten thousand feet, if the video could be believed.
The video had also said she didn’t have anything to worry about. That the instructor would take care of everything—telling her when to jump, pulling the parachute, landing. He’d even placed goggles on Angela and banded their harnesses together a few minutes ago.
Her spine tingled. Why had she decided this was the best way to spend the second anniversary of Wes’s and Brent’s deaths?
“We’re getting close.” John’s voice rattled in her ear—or maybe the rattling came from the sliding door that would soon roll up vertically to reveal an exit. “Your bucket list will have one less item after today.”
Bucket list? Sure, let him think that.
But no matter how much her hands shook at what was coming, a deeper peace settled in her spirit. This was where she was supposed to be today. And with the way Eva had grinned at Angela’s suggestion, she knew her sister-in-law felt the same way.
The pilot made an announcement that they were close to the drop zone. Angela’s insides cramped, and she fiddled with the zipper on her orange-and-blue jumpsuit that made her look like a prison inmate.
“Here we go.”
Angela gave John a wobbly thumbs-up in reply.
Eva’s instructor opened the rolling plane door, and a breeze attacked them all, whipping across Angela’s forehead and cheeks. Then Eva and her instructor crouched by the door, waiting for a big red light to turn green.
Glancing at Angela, Eva mouthed, “Are you okay?” Other than her concern for Angela, her excitement was clear. This wasn’t her first time doing this, since she’d gone with Brent before. Still, the fact that she could bring herself to do this now, without Brent, on today of all days, was proof of how far her sister-in-law had come.
Angela nodded at Eva’s question. She was as okay as one could be when about to leap from a flying airplane.
And then, before Angela could blink, the light turned green and Eva and her instructor disappeared from view.
Angela’s breath left her. Could she do this?
Lord, help.
Then, again a peace came, one she didn’t understand.
John nudged her forward, and she crouched on the edge of the plane, anticipating the free fall to come. Her heart galloped.
“One.”
What am I doing?
“Two.”
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
Yes, I can, I can, I can.
“Three.”
With a gentle push from John, Angela grimaced and stepped off the ledge.
Her own shriek filled her ears as she rocketed toward the earth. She’d expected a sensation like a roller coaster, when the bottom falls out beneath you, but it wasn’t like that. Instead, the wind blew against her—and