This Side of Heaven

by Karen Kingsbury

Genres: War & Military; Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

From New York Times best-selling author Karen Kingsbury comes an unforgettable story of love struggling against all odds to snatch hope from the jaws of despair. Annie Warren’s concern for her adult son Josh has intensified ever since a drunk driver careened into him. Disabled and in constant pain, Josh has put his life on hold while awaiting an insurance settlement that seems never to come. Yet as Annie sifts through the rubble of Josh’s life, she uncovers a treasure of surpassing value—the greatest gift he could give her this side of heaven.

Release date: January 5, 2009

Publisher: Center Street

Print pages: 352

Sample

The pain was a living, breathing demon, pressing its claws deep into his flesh and promising never to let go, not until death had the final word. But even with every vertebra and tendon in his back aching and burning, even with how he felt prisoner to his own body, and despite the eternal relief that was bound to come with his last breath, Josh Warren was certain of one thing that cool autumn night.

He didn’t want to die.

Josh braced himself against the kitchen counter in his cramped apartment and stared at the clock. Just after midnight, early by his recent standards. His eyes blurred and battled for a moment of clarity. The problem was the meds, and whether he’d taken a double dose at ten o’clock, or at six. He leaned over his hands and tried to work up a complete breath. He drew three quick gasps, but only a fraction of his lungs offered any assistance. He was twenty-eight, but his body made him feel twice that.

“God”—he clenched his teeth and the whispered word filled his small kitchen—“I can’t take this. I can’t.”

Three years. That’s how long it had been. A hero, they labeled him. Saved the lives of two teenage girls. But where were the news crews and reporters and cameramen now? Now, when every hour was a struggle to survive.

He tightened his grip on the countertop, his arms trembling, his lungs holding steady, refusing to inhale in a futile effort to keep the demon at bay. Another quick gasp and he hung his head. For a long moment he stayed that way, willing the pain to subside. But before he felt any relief, a drop of tepid water hit his hand. A grimace tugged at his eyebrows, and for a heartbeat he wondered if a pipe had broken upstairs the way it had last month, when the fog of pain and OxyContin was so strong he didn’t notice the problem until a small stream started oozing from the plaster ceiling.

Another drop. He brushed at it as a third drop hit him, and at the same time he figured it out. He lifted his fingers to his forehead and touched a layer of wetness. No surprise there. He was sweating, his body giving way to the pain, handling the fire the only way it knew how. He wiped the back of his hand across his head and looked around.

Never mind when he’d taken the last dose. He needed more. Needed it now. He tried to straighten, but the demon weighed heavy on his shoulders, slumping him over as he shuffled toward the cupboard. He grabbed the bottle and fumbled with the lid before sliding one single pill into his palm. One pill wouldn’t be too much. He downed it with a swig of water straight from the faucet.

Sleep would come, the way it always did eventually.

But first he needed to find Cara Truman. Josh made his way to the computer, set up on a desk against the dining room wall. He pulled his chair into place and fell into it. Even then there was no relief. Sitting only intensified the pain in his lower back. He narrowed his eyes, logged in to his Facebook, and opened the instant message window—the one where Cara lived. Josh would never meet her in person. He was almost certain of that.

If he ever found his way free of the pain, he would call Becky Wheaton first, Becky who he had loved since he was fifteen. He’d heard from some of their old high school friends that her engagement had fallen through and she was single again. He thought about her constantly, but he couldn’t call her. Not until he was healthy and whole and successful—the sort of guy she deserved.

Becky would have to wait, but when no amount of meds or sleep could take the edge off his constant pain, when concerned calls from his parents and his sister didn’t bring relief, there was always Cara.

She knew him better than anyone, because she knew his story. The whole story. Even the part about his little girl on the other side of the country, the one no one else really thought was his. On late nights like this, across the invisible lines of cyberspace, he could share with Cara every crazy detail of the others, the stories that made up his life. And along the way Cara gave him a rare and priceless gift, one that kept him pushing through, battling the demon.

Cara believed him.

He studied the list of friends online, and she was there. He positioned his hands and tried to steady them as he tapped out the words. Hey, it’s me… you there?

Half a minute passed and he saw that his neighbor Carl Joseph Gunner had tagged him in a few new photos. He clicked the album and for the first time that night he smiled. Carl Joseph and his girlfriend, Daisy, both had Down syndrome. They lived with roommates in separate apartments in the adjacent building and both were very independent, with jobs and the ability to use the bus lines for errands.

The photos were taken by Carl Joseph last time he and Daisy stopped by the apartment. Carl Joseph had learned how to use the timer on his camera, so the pictures showed Carl Joseph, Daisy, and Josh standing in front of his TV, his refrigerator, and his patio slider—each one with the same cheeky smiles. Josh jotted a quick thank-you to Carl Joseph, and at the same time a response came from Cara.

I stepped away for a minute but I’m back.

Josh shifted positions, trying to find a more comfortable angle. Can’t sleep. I was hoping you were up. Cara lived in Phoenix and she worked the swing shift at a data processing center. She usually didn’t turn in until two in the morning.

Her next message appeared in the lower window on his computer screen. I was thinking the other day about how we almost didn’t meet. What would I have done without you?

Josh smiled and moved his fingers over the keyboard. Glad we’ll never have to answer that. Just goes to show online poker’s worth something. Even when you lose.

The conversation came faster. Lotta creeps play OP. You were like getting a royal flush, you know?

Josh felt the compliment in the drafty corners of his heart. He leaned back against the vinyl chair and felt his body relax a little. Thanks, sweetie. I’m just glad we found our way out of online poker and into this.

Whatever this is.

Right. Josh chuckled. Whatever it is. Hey, I talked to Keith yesterday. He’s back with his wife… things are good.

Really??? I’m so happy for him!! See, J… Where would he be without you?

Josh felt the warmth of her words deep to the center of his soul. Keith had been his best friend since grade school, but ten years ago he’d moved to Ohio. They still stayed in touch, and Keith sometimes joined him for online poker. That’s how Cara knew him.

There was a pause in the conversation and then her next message appeared in the window.

How’s your back?

Hurts like crazy… let’s talk about something else. I go to court again next week.

To testify?

Yes. My lawyer says it should be the last time.

Yay! That means the settlement’s coming! And then you can go after your daughter!

Josh read the line three times before his hands began moving across the keyboard. That’s why I wanted to talk to you tonight.

Why?

Because you make her seem like a real person. My little girl.

She is real. Josh could hear Cara’s indignant tone through the words of her message. You’re going to get custody of her one of these days, I just know it.

The thrill of possibility sent tingles down Josh’s arms. Partial custody. But anything would be better than this.

She’s a lucky girl, J… I wish my kids had a daddy like you.

Josh stared at that part. Every time they had a conversation like this one, Josh wondered the same thing. Maybe he was wrong about never meeting her in person. Becky had probably moved on, anyway. If he and Cara got along so well, why not move their relationship from cyberspace to Phoenix? Or to Colorado Springs? Cara was a single mom of two kids—a boy and a girl. Her first husband had been abusive, and three years ago he’d moved out and found someone new. Cara found solace in online poker, and people who couldn’t hit her, people who could pretend to be anyone they wanted to be.

Two years ago Josh was caught up in an online game with Cara—aka Miss Independent—when she said something that stayed with him still. In the comment section of the game, she wrote, I play OP because my real life is on hold.

That was exactly how Josh felt. Since the accident he’d been caught up in a web of depositions and hearings, meetings with lawyers, and waiting for workmen’s comp checks in the mail. Since then, all of life had become a waiting game.

Waiting for the pain in his back to be healed.

Waiting for a decision in the trial against the drunk driver’s insurance company.

Waiting for a chance at success so he could call Becky Wheaton and tell her he still loved her.

Waiting for his settlement money so he could pay back his parents and buy a house and take a paternity test so he could prove to all the world what he already knew: that Savannah was his daughter.

Another message appeared. You’re quiet. What are you thinking?

Josh felt a tug on his heart. How come you’re there and I’m here?

Yeah… I wonder that too sometimes.

Usually when they flirted with the possibility of taking their relationship to another level, one of them would change the subject before the conversation became too serious. But sitting in his stuffy apartment alone at one in the morning with the trial and the settlement becoming more of a reality each day, Josh suddenly couldn’t stop himself. His fingers flew across the keyboard. Okay, seriously, Miss Independent. Why don’t we stop all this typing and find a way to hang out in person?

There was a hesitation, and Josh’s heartbeat sped up. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe this was all she’d ever be capable of, and if that was the case, then so be it. Besides, he would always love Becky, and he owed it to both of them to see if she might feel the same way about him—once he was successful. If not, if she’d moved on, then maybe Cara was someone he could love. Come on, Cara.… He closed his eyes and remembered the words of the song he’d heard recently. “I can only imagine… what it will be like.…” God, please… speak to her heart. If she’s someone who could be in my life, then please…

He opened his eyes just as the next message came across. You’re too good for me, J. You know that.

Who are you kidding?… I’m lucky just to be your friend.

Another pause, shorter this time. Tell me again about God, about you and Him.

Disappointment stabbed at him because he really wanted to talk about the two of them. He swallowed hard. If she was going to change the subject, at least she wanted to talk about his newfound faith. He was still in pain, still sitting alone in a cheap apartment, but in the last six weeks his life had changed. He loved that Cara wanted to talk about it.

He breathed in and began typing. I don’t know, it’s weird. My family’s been talking to me about God forever, but I guess I had to figure it out on my own.

What did it feel like… you know, when you heard that song and could tell God was talking to you?

Josh smiled again. He’d answered this question half a dozen times in the last six weeks, but Cara seemed to really need to understand.

He moved his hands across the keyboard faster this time. I don’t know, I mean… it was like God was talking straight to my heart. Telling me that I wasn’t waiting for a settlement or a chance to see Savannah or for the next stage of my life. What I was really waiting for was Him. It was like He was calling me, and if I wanted to really live I needed to finally answer. You know? Stop running from Him and tell Him yes.

I love that. She hesitated. Can I tell you a secret?

Always. He longed to hug her, put his hands on her shoulders, and look deep into her blue eyes. In lieu of that he clicked on her name in the instant message window and was instantly on her Facebook page. She had short brown hair and a narrow face. Not too tall or athletic or strikingly beautiful. A few extra pounds that drove her crazy, but the part Josh loved most was her smile. Cara’s smile had a way of staying with him.

Her message flashed into view. I’ve been talking with God.

Online? He grinned at his own joke.

No, silly. In my heart. When I’m looking out the window at the summer sky or when a monsoon sweeps over Phoenix and lightning dances across the street outside my apartment complex.

He read her message slowly. You should be a writer.

I’m serious, J. You’ve changed me, your story about God. I think He’s calling me, too. I’m taking the kids to church this Sunday.

Josh raised his eyebrows. Seriously? In the time he’d known her, Cara had been opposed to faith and God and anything dealing with Scripture. She never quite came out and said why, but on her Facebook page she described herself as agnostic. Not interested in faith, she’d written. That had changed in the last few weeks, and the reason had to be Josh’s story about Wynonna and hearing God and realizing he’d been running away all this time.

Very seriously. So maybe I’ll go to church this Sunday and all the answers will suddenly fall into place… and you’ll get your settlement and buy a house in Scottsdale and we’ll become best friends… and then… well, and then who knows? Right, J… maybe all that.

His heart did a somersault. Right. He wasn’t sure if he should push the issue, but he couldn’t stop himself. Maybe all that and more.

So… are you feeling better?

He dropped his hands to his thighs and stared at the screen. He hadn’t realized it until she asked, but he actually was feeling better. You know what? He typed the words quickly. My back doesn’t hurt like it did before.

See, I knew it.

Knew what?

I’m good for you.

You are. Very good.

And you know what else, J?

He almost felt like she was sitting across from him. What?

You’re very good for me, too. And that’s enough for now.

Everything she’d said a moment ago suddenly felt like nothing more than wild-eyed dreams and make-believe. He wanted a cigarette so bad he would’ve walked three miles for one. Yes, he typed. That’s enough for now.

They signed off, and Josh checked a few more profiles of his online friends before closing down the computer. He stood and the effort hurt, but it didn’t slice through him the way it would’ve an hour ago. He wandered across the living room to the narrow wooden mantel above the electric fireplace. On it he had the photos that mattered. One of him and his family—back when he was in high school and all of life stretched out before him like a river of unlimited possibilities. Next to it was a picture of the two girls—the one that ran in the paper after the accident. And last was a photo of Savannah, taken three years ago when she was four. Maria sent it to him when she thought he was going to come through with thousands of dollars a month in child support.

But Josh didn’t have that kind of money, not yet, and a few months after sending the photo she moved on—refusing his phone calls and never sending another photo.

Josh stared at the picture. Please, God… keep her safe. I want so badly to be her dad.

He heard no loud voice in response, no quiet whisper in the newly reclaimed territory of his soul. But a Bible verse played across his mind, one that the pastor had talked about last Sunday. He was going to church with Carl Joseph and Daisy, the same church where Carl Joseph’s brother, Cody, and Cody’s wife, Elle, attended. The sermon had been about holding on—even when there seemed to be no hope at all. The verse was from Psalm 119:50.

My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life.

Josh touched the frame surrounding Savannah’s picture. Thank You, God.… I feel Your comfort. In the last few weeks, no words could have spoken more clearly to Josh than the ones from that single Bible verse. He kept a journal for Savannah and in his last entry he’d written to her about the Scripture. Never mind his relentless back pain, or the fact that the doctors weren’t sure surgery would ever heal him. Forget about the depositions in the coming weeks, where the attorneys for the insurance company would certainly try to rip his testimony to shreds.

God’s Word was reviving him.

Josh took a final look at the pictures on the mantel, then turned and walked slowly down the short hallway to his bedroom. He could walk a little straighter than before. Amazing, the power of having a true friend. No amount of pain medication could fully relieve the spasms in his back or the burning along his spine. But an hour of conversation with Cara and he felt like life was possible again. Like he could tackle another day.

In the beginning, their talks left them both drained because when they were honest with each other it was obvious things hadn’t been easy for either of them. But now—now she was full of hope and life and encouragement, and Josh realized there could be only one reason for that: His new hope was spilling over into her life. And that was something that made him feel useful, like he had a purpose.

As he finished brushing his teeth, Josh smiled at the memory of their talk. Tonight they had tiptoed out of the safe confines of an instant message and stood for a brief moment on the balcony where the view was far grander. As Josh lay down and tried to find that elusive comfortable spot, as he begged God to keep the demon of deep, excruciating pain at bay, and as sleep finally found him, he thought about Cara and realized something else. Along the way God’s Word wasn’t only reviving him.

It was reviving both of them.



Annie Warren pulled the chilled raspberry cheesecake from her built-in Sub-Zero refrigerator, set it on her granite countertop, and sliced it onto a dozen china plates. The cheesecake was the same kind she served at the last function two weeks ago, and it was a huge hit. This time, she had a backup in the fridge just in case. It took no time to line the plates on a tray and steady it in her hands.

“Need help?” Her husband, Nate, rounded the corner, two coffee cups in his hands. He dropped them off near the sink. “They’re hungry out there.”

“No, thanks.” She could feel the weariness in her smile as she walked past him toward the dining room. She tossed a quick glance back over her shoulder. “Maybe check the coffee. This crowd keeps every Starbucks in Colorado Springs in business.”

Nate’s laugh was low and discrete, muffled by the sounds as he worked the coffeemaker, fiddling with the springform top, the metal against metal. Annie eased her shoulder through a pair of double doors and found her practiced smile, the one she used whenever they entertained—and with Nate a member of the Colorado State Board of Education, the Warrens entertained this way at least once a month.

Tonight it was the public librarians. Nate was up for reelection in a year and whatever he did he wanted the public librarians on his side. The board made decisions at every monthly meeting that directly affected them, and Nate wanted to make himself very clear: He was a friend of the public libraries. Hence the cheesecake.

Annie set the tray down near two nearly empty silver carafes of hot coffee.

“I told you.” Babette, a librarian from the north side of the Springs, led her coworker closer to the dessert table. She smiled at Annie. “This is the cheesecake from Marigolds, right?”

“It is.” Annie took a step back from the table. Good thing she bought two. “It was Nate’s idea. ‘Only the best for the librarians.’ ” Even as she said the words she could hear herself saying them last week about the teachers union. “Only the best…”

Babette was rail thin, but Annie had never known her to attend a party and eat less than three desserts. She helped herself to the first piece. “Best cheesecake in town, that’s what I say.” The other librarians made their way to the table as Babette took a few steps closer to Annie. “So…” She turned her back to the others. “I was thinking the other day about Josh, and he’s what, now, in his late twenties? Because I was doing the math and it seems like this past June it was ten years since he and Blake graduated.”

“Right.” Annie’s stomach tightened. She stood a little straighter. “Ten years, same as Blake.”

Babette took three quick bites and seemed to swallow them whole. “Blake’s an intern this fall, did I mention that? He ran into Becky Wheaton at the hospital the other day. She’s a therapist now—beautiful girl. She was Josh’s girlfriend way back when, wasn’t she?”

“She was.” Annie worked to keep her smile in place. “They haven’t talked in a while.”

“Blake says he might take her out for coffee. Just to reconnect.” She waved her hand in the air, as if she’d forgotten her main point. “Anyway, Blake’s the top intern in the program. I told you where he’s at, right?”

“St. Anthony’s in Denver.”

“Yes.” She picked up her fork and stabbed it in the air. “Boy’s so driven he puts me to shame. Barely makes time for anything else. His instructors think he’ll be a surgeon before he’s thirty-two. Isn’t that something?”

“Something.”

“Becky Wheaton thought so. Blake said she was very impressed with how he was doing.”

Becky Wheaton would never love anyone the way she’d loved Josh, Annie told herself. She poured a cup of coffee. She would need it to get through this night. Once she had it steadied on a saucer she looked at Babette again. “You must be proud.”

“I am. I mean, my son was always driven, you know? Schoolwork, sports, the debate team. You name it.”

“Definitely. That’s Blake.”

There was an uncomfortable pause. The familiar pause that told Annie exactly what was coming next. Babette consumed the rest of her cheesecake. “Like I said, I was thinking about Josh and… So, how’s he doing, anyway? I mean, the whole recovery from the accident and everything?”

“Actually, he’s doing very well.” Annie didn’t hesitate, didn’t give the woman anything but her most practiced answer. “He’s in rehab for his back, and making progress. He’s talked about starting his own business once he gets his settlement from the accident.”

The woman smiled in a way that fell just short of condescending. “That’s the Josh I remember. Always resourceful. And that Lindsay of yours—she was a smart one. Saw one of her feature stories in the paper the other day and I told myself, ‘That Lindsay, she’ll have books in our library one day.’ She’s quite a writer.” She paused just long enough to refuel. “But then sometimes girls are more ambitious than their brothers. I read that in a Cosmopolitan article, and I stopped right there and thought o. . .