Something Called Redemption

By Melinda Williams

What is redemption? And why does it seem to come so easily for some, but be impossibly elusive to others?
After devastating loss, Ian Gray gives up searching for a purpose in life and merely exists from one day to the next. When he witnesses a heinous crime, it only further cements in his mind what he believes to be the truth: that there is no redemption for him.
But there are those around him who refuse to give up until he understands the true meaning of redemption and forgiveness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 10, 2010
• ISBN: 9781449706227

Melinda Williams

I have no formal degree in writing, but years of practice in writing stories for my own amusement and fun. I have written a play that was performed at a church I attended several years back, and it only instilled in me a desire to write more. God has brought me through many tribulations, some I've brought on myself and others that come from simply living. It is my dream that the Lord can use what He has shown me and brought me through to give hope to others. He inspired in me a love of writing and I pray He will use whatever talent He has given me to bless others. I currently live in a rural town in Tennessee.

Book preview

Chapter

1

The early morning light washed the cream walls of the large kitchen in a deep orange as Paul Gray set a cup on the granite countertop next to the coffee maker. He ran his hand through his thinning hair and looked out the window over the sink as the sun came fully over the trees behind the house, casting a glow over the yellow grass and barren trees in the backyard.

It wasn’t quite the life he’d pictured himself having years earlier, before his first wife died unexpectedly in a car wreck. He had thought his life was over then. He couldn’t see past the pain to a future that could possibly hold anything he wanted.

He heard the shuffling of house shoes across the hardwood floor before slender arms wrapped around his waist and a cheek pressed to his back between his shoulder blades. He smiled and covered the smaller hands with his own. Thank you, Lord, for providing what I need before I even know I need it.

They stood quietly, the only sound in the room the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner as they watched the sun rise fully over the horizon. He brought her hand to his lips. I didn’t mean to wake you.

You didn’t, Isabel said as she pulled away and crossed to the refrigerator, pulling out the carton of orange juice. I have an early meeting.

Did you hear Ian come in this morning?

She shook her head, her auburn braid draping over her shoulder to her waist. No. What time was it?

After three. He stirred cream and sugar into his coffee and sat at the table. I don’t know what to do with him anymore.

She put a slice of bread in the toaster and moved to stand behind him, massaging his shoulders. I know you still feel like this is your fault—

"It is."

She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. Ian made his own decisions.

Paul closed his eyes. He couldn’t deny that, but how many of those decisions were made because of his own influence during Ian’s childhood? His first wife, Ian’s mother, had warned him that one day he would wake up and find Ian was grown, and he wouldn’t even know his own son. Now, almost eight years after her death, Paul was finding her prediction had come true.

He hooked his palm behind his neck and rested his elbow on the table, expelling a breath, ready for a change in topic. What’s your meeting about?

She brought her breakfast to the table. The budget. From what Jonathan’s saying, it looks like we’ll be able to add another counselor.

Paul smiled softly at his wife’s excitement. After losing her first husband and son to a boating accident more than thirteen years earlier, Isabel had joined together with the pastor’s wife of Cornerstone Community Church and began a special outreach specifically for those dealing with lost loved ones. Over the years, the ministry had grown to the point that Cornerstone had to build another wing onto the church in order to employ enough counselors to see all their clients.

Do you have anyone in mind?

She shook her head. I have several applications that I’ve looked over, but I’m torn between two of them. I figured I’d wait to make a decision until I knew for sure we’d be approved for more staff.

He sipped his coffee and lifted the paper, sharing the peaceful morning with his wife in silence as she ate her breakfast. He folded the paper down to glance at the clock when he realized he hadn’t heard any stirrings upstairs. With a heavy sigh, he set the paper down and moved up the stairs to his son’s room.

He knocked several times before pushing the door open. Ian lay tangled in the sheets, curled to his side with his back facing the door. Paul crossed to the bed and gazed down at his son, a lump forming in his throat. Ian’s olive skin tone and thick hair were the most obvious resemblances to his late mother, who was brought from India as a child and adopted. Ian also carried Dhanya’s smile, but Ian had little use in the last few years for his smile outside of sarcasm.

Paul pursed his lips and ripped the sheet off the slumbering teen.

Ian sat up, looking around in panicked confusion before his eyes fell on Paul and flattened. What are you doing?

He snorted, shaking his head. "What are you doing? You’ve got school."

Ian huffed and flopped back down. I’m not going today.

Paul stared at his son’s back for a moment before throwing the sheet in the corner. You’re either going to school or to work with me. You’re not laying around the house today sleeping off a hangover.

Ian rolled to his back and rubbed his face with both hands. I’m not hungover.

Then what’s your problem?

He took a slow breath and looked to Paul over his fingers. I … He shook his head and sat up. Don’t worry about it.

Any small hope that had tried to rise in Paul’s chest at the brief uncertain look in Ian’s eyes faded quickly at the sudden dismissal. He turned and grabbed the doorknob. Be downstairs in twenty minutes or I’m coming back up here.

He returned to the kitchen as Isabel was rinsing her dishes and sat back at the table, rubbing his eyes. He’s getting ready.

Paul … She chewed her lip, brows drawn together. Maybe it’s time you take his car.

It wasn’t often Isabel made comments about how to discipline Ian, but Paul knew she felt he was too lenient on his son. He needs it to get to school.

She dropped her plate and glass into the dishwasher and dried her hands on a towel. He can ride the bus.

I don’t know if the bus comes anywhere near here.

It doesn’t.

Paul looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. Dressed in pressed khakis and a white oxford, Ian appeared every bit the well-groomed, well-mannered child from upper middle-class that he was supposed to be—proof which Paul didn’t need of how outward appearances could be deceiving. Where were you last night?

Ian shrugged and poured his own cup of coffee, leaving it black as he turned to face his father. Out.

It was a school night, Paul said.

Ian leaned his hip to the counter, brows raised. And?

Do you want me to take your keys?

He finished his coffee in a few gulps and set the cup in the sink. You planning on taking me to school every day?

Paul caught the pointed look Isabel gave him and took a breath. You could ride with Adrian and Alysia.

Ian grunted. The wonder twins don’t have time to get haircuts, much less tote me around. He pulled his keys from his pocket. See y’all later. I wouldn’t want to be late for school.

The door slammed shut behind him and Paul rubbed his face. Would it be too much to ask for a little respect? he said under his breath.

But we’ve talked about this since ninth grade. I can’t believe you’re bailing on me now.

Alysia spared a glance at her friend as they weaved their way through the throng of students filling the hallway of Haven High School. I’m not bailing on you. I really can’t go. I promised Mom I’d help her at the shop this summer.

Kelly pouted, tucking a lock of her short brown hair behind her ear. But after this summer we’ll be official adults. Don’t you want to spend your last summer as a reckless teenager on a beach in Jamaica?

Alysia tapped her French-manicured nails against her lips. Hm, let’s see, surrounded by the latest fashions for the cheapest prices ever, or spend the hottest month of the year too close to the equator. She raised her hand and grinned. Sorry, fashion wins every time.

Kelly rolled her eyes. You’ve got to be kidding me.

Actually, I’m not. She opened her locker and swapped out her books. Besides, we’ve got the senior campout with church, and it’s at the same time as your trip to Jamaica. That’s enough of a vacation for me.

How’s our beautiful cheerleading captain today?

Alysia grimaced at the voice and turned. Hi, Matt. He stared at her long enough to make her stomach turn. Did you need something?

He nodded. Yes, I would like to take you to dinner this weekend.

With hazel eyes, dark wavy hair, and a muscular build, Matt Carter was rather attractive on the outside. But he was also crude and vulgar and had no problem with people knowing exactly what kind of relationship he wanted with her.

She hugged her books to her chest. I’m sorry, but my answer is the same as it has been every time you’ve asked for the last four years. What will it take for you to stop asking?

He smiled condescendingly. You say yes.

That won’t happen. She turned and his hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly. She caught Kelly’s worried glance as she tried to tug her hand out of his grasp.

What makes you think you’re so much better than everyone else around here?

Students milled about all around them, some glancing over curiously, but none bothering to stop and help. You’re hurting me, let go.

Not until you answer me.

A third hand appeared suddenly and closed around Matt’s wrist. Alysia looked to the side, pulse rising at the anger shining in Ian’s eyes. She swallowed as Ian and Matt glared at each other.

If you don’t let go now—right now—I’ll break every bone in your wrist. Understand?

Alysia sighed in relief when the tight grip around her wrist loosened. She held her injured wrist to her chest and took a step back as the boys faced off.

You should mind your own business, Gray.

She is my business, Ian said softly, and Alysia felt her face go warm as he continued. You mess with her, you mess with me. Got it?

Matt sneered. That so? You mess with me and you mess with my old man. Got that? He shoved his shoulder into Ian’s before storming off.

Alysia watched Matt disappear into the sea of teenagers with disdain. Her blush brightened when Ian took her hand. Are you all right? His tone was soft and his eyes concerned as he ran gentle fingers over the forming bruise.

Yeah.

If he messes with you again, let me know.

She tried to laugh the incident away, but it died in her throat. He’s all bark.

He raised his eyes to meet hers. No, Aly, he’s not. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him. He looked as if he would say more, but he pressed his lips together and glanced to Kelly briefly before turning around and walking off.

Kelly looked to Alysia with wide eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ian look like that before. There was something other than sarcasm and anger on that handsome face of his. A small smile came to her lips. I think he’s got a thing for you.

He wasn’t always like that, you know, Alysia said as they moved down the hall towards their next class. He used to be the biggest prankster, and we spent most of our summers as kids terrorizing the neighborhood together, dragging Adrian along behind us. Ian would come up with crazy ideas, and we’d figure out how to make them work together. If we couldn’t figure it out, we’d go to his mom. She always had a solution for any road blocks we came to.

No way.

She held up her right hand. It’s completely true. She tossed a lock of her long blond hair over her shoulder, a smile coming to her lips. In fact, he was my first kiss.

What?

Alysia laughed. We were ten, well he hadn’t turned ten yet, but anyway, he said he was gonna marry me one day and planted a kiss on me before I knew what he was doing. We’d just finished turning all of the signs in Mom’s store upside down and were hiding in the dressing room.

Are you serious?

Yeah. It was about a month or so before his mom died. Her mirth faded as she sat at her desk and dropped her chin to her palm. He never was the same again after that.

The heaviness of that summer swelled up within her as fresh as if it were yesterday. They’d lost more in that instant than she had realized at the time. When they’d first moved to Haven, her brother was little more than a moving shell. Ian had worked to change that, and for a time, Alysia thought she was getting her brother back. But when Dhanya died, so did something inside of Ian. And with that loss, her brother drifted even further behind the wall he’d erected.

Aly?

She looked up to see concern on her friend’s face. Sorry, just thinking.

Kelly leaned her elbow on her desk and propped her temple on the back of her knuckles. About Ian or Adrian?

She gave her a weak smile at the mention of her brother. Take your pick.

The brunette smiled encouragingly. Don’t worry so much. Adrian’s guarded, I know, but it doesn’t stop him from being social and having friends.

Alysia shook her head. Talking to people doesn’t really count for much where he’s concerned. He’s a fixer, always has been. She dropped her voice as the bell rang and the teacher pushed away from her desk. He’ll help face any problem except his own.

Chapter

2

Ian ducked out a side door and moved around to the back of the school, hiding on the other side of the brick wall that halfway surrounded the dumpsters. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it before leaning his back to the wall. Blowing a cloud of smoke, he looked up at the clear blue sky.

He slid his hand into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around a film canister. He’d had to miss two classes to sneak into the photo lab while no one was around. He hadn’t thought the pictures would turn out as well as they did and debated with himself on throwing the negatives away. Nothing good could possibly come from keeping them.

For years he’d made stupid decisions and had bad ideas, but this went far beyond a simple error in judgment. This time he was playing with a fire that went further than a few packs of smokes and bottles of whiskey. If he wasn’t careful, he’d probably find himself swinging from a tree next to the homeless guy. Oddly enough, though, the thought didn’t frighten him as much as it fascinated him. One quick drop, and his penance would be paid.

There were options, he supposed. He could turn the evidence over and tell what he saw, or he could sit back and do nothing to see how it would play out without his interference. There was a part of him that felt a thrill at the prospect of danger in his otherwise dull existence.

Mr. Gray.

He paused in his musing and looked to his Trigonometry teacher. ‘Sup?

The teacher rested his hands on his hips. Even teachers aren’t allowed to smoke on school property. I’m pretty sure we can’t make an exception for a minor.

Ian took a drag off of his cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly. Your point?

Collins shook his head, folding his arms over his chest. Put it out. Now. Ian rolled his eyes but did as told and Collins continued. In just a minute we’re going to the office to discuss this with the administrator, but before that I want to know what’s going on between you and Matt Carter?

Ian’s eyes narrowed. Nothing. Why?

What was he so mad about?

He raised a shoulder. How should I know? Something stupid, knowing him.

Collins snorted, exasperation clear on his face. Of all the people you could pick a fight with, why him?

Ian shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to lean his shoulder to the wall. Why are you assuming I picked a fight with him? Have I ever started anything around here?

There’s a first time for everything.

Ian looked to the side, eyes narrowing. That was the way of things. No matter how grotesque Matthew Carter was, the teachers wouldn’t see that. He was the police chief’s son, and therefore above reproach. It sickened Ian.

Fine, then I guess all that’s left is to decide what to do about the smoking on school property. He waved his hand toward the door. After you.

Ian tipped his head and started for the administrator’s office. How’s Mrs. Smith today? The last time I saw her she was down in her back. He raised up slightly to slap his hand on the Exit sign as they entered the school.

That was only last week, but she’s doing better. Collins studied the teen for a moment. And may I ask what you did to get an invite to her office last week?

He shrugged. Does it matter? He stepped into the office and sat in one of the chairs opposite the administrator’s desk, crossing his legs at the ankles and cupping his hands behind his head. Mrs. Smith was a short, stout woman with a kind face and strict discipline. Ian knew she favored him, but it was out of pity more than anything else.

She folded her hands on her desk, eyes studying Ian from behind wire-rimmed