The Long Road Home

By Danielle Harvel

Nicole awoke to her own screams, shrieking at the very top of her lungs. Her voice was distant to her, as though she was in a cave. Her throat burned with each wail, from days of the same. The dream awakened her at the same time every morning. She lay in a puddle of sweat, the perspiration and tears soaking her eyelashes. Her heart beat without any rhythm, just hurriedly. It was like someone striking a key of a typewriter over and over as quickly as possible until the chime would ring, announcing the margin had been reached. Her whole body ached as though it had been running a race that it was not conditioned for. It would only be a moment before her aunt would burst through the doors to make sure she was okay. She began taking deep breaths to calm herself and wiped her face furiously. She looked around the strange room that was to become her own and felt like a flower that had sprung up in a desert. She was wilting in a foreign land, dying in a place where she was not supposed to be, where she could not breathe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781449767761

Danielle Harvel

Danielle Harvel has been an avid writer and reader her entire life. Writing has always been a passion. Since childhood, she had two career goals: to be an author and a scientist. She graduated from Eastern Kentucky University in 2004 with a BS in Clinical Laboratory Science and is a registered Medical Laboratory Scientist through the American Society for Clinical Pathology. Danielle has been a Christian since 1997 and a member of McDowell First Baptist Church since her eighteenth birthday that same year. During that time, she has served as a Sunday school teacher, youth group leader, senior adult leader, and a chaplain in her college dormitory. She married a wonderful Christian man, Allen Harvel, in 2001, and they have two beautiful children, Kennedy and Braden. Her life experiences have given her much to write about. An avid horse rider and competitor, she lives in McDowell, Kentucky, overlooking her family’s barn. They currently have four horses, a pony, and one English bulldog named Lady.

Book preview

THE

LONG ROAD

HOME

Danielle Harvel

logoBlackwTN.ai

Copyright © 2012 Danielle Harvel

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ISBN: 978-1-4497-6777-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-6778-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-6776-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012917263

WestBow Press rev. date: 9/25/2012

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

For my little sister Sonya, who washed the dishes for my allowance money, who giggled in our bedroom until midnight, who almost choked me to death once after I gave her a black eye, who humbles me with her big heart and giving nature, who is always my advocate and never gave up on me writing this novel.

"How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written:

‘How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the gospel of peace, Who bring glad tidings of good things.’"

Romans 10:14-15

CHAPTER 1

Nicole Bishop stopped by Mrs. Breffield’s apartment on the first floor of the building and knocked on the door. Mrs. Breffield immediately answered with her purse in hand; she had been waiting for Nicole. A wave of Chanel No. 5 hit Nicole’s nose. I thought you’d never make it, Mrs. Breffield said to Nicole, as she turned her key to lock the door. Mrs. Breffield was a stunner once upon a time—it was evident in her dress, the way she carried herself and her facial features. Age had weathered her face and body, but she was attractive even in her late seventies. However, Mrs. Breffield was very impatient, and this had become their routine for a long while.

I thought I said I would pick you up at six-thirty, Nicole countered. Mrs. Breffield just looked at her. Nicole started to point out that it was only six-twenty, but let it go. Mrs. Breffield was her only real friend in Chicago and a grandmotherly figure instead of a landlady.

Did you have a nice visit with your friend? The older lady asked as they stepped out on the curb to Nicole’s car.

Nicole opened the door for her. Yes, Kim is well, and her new boyfriend is really nice. I think this one’s a keeper. Nicole shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

How do you know? Mrs. Breffield asked.

Nicole looked over at her as she pulled onto the road. I don’t know; I’ve never seen her so happy. They complement one another very well. Granny Etta said I would like him.

Did you talk to Etta Mae already this evening?

"Yep, she had a big crowd and had just laid down when I called. She’s really getting tired more easily lately. She never lays down," Nicole said, still kind of worried about Granny Etta.

Well, we’re getting older, and she’s trying to do what she’s done for the last fifty years, Mrs. Breffield pointed out. She’s too stubborn to quit.

I know. I asked her if she had gone to the doctor to get a check-up or anything, and she said that she was too old for that, Nicole said as she gave her signal to pull into the church’s parking lot. She was still frustrated from the conversation. I should get down there and see her soon; it’s been almost six months now.

I’m so excited about revival, Nicole. This young man that is preaching is very good, I hear, Mrs. Breffield said as they pulled into the church’s parking lot. My word—there he is, she said and pointed to a dark, handsome man standing in the doorway of the church, talking on a cell phone. He was picking dogwoods from one of the trees. The dogwoods made a lovely backdrop during the spring.

Nicole laughed. You act like he’s a celebrity or something.

He looks like one, and I hear he’s single, the older woman said with a wink.

Fear overcame Nicole. You didn’t—

Mrs. Breffield just smiled and exited the vehicle. Now Nicole was in a quandary. She had no idea what to do. Mrs. Breffield was under the impression that Nicole needed a mate immediately. The older woman was on the lookout at all times for a husband for her young friend. She had fixed Nicole up on several dates that Nicole either declined later or made up an excuse to leave early. Nicole wondered if Mrs. Breffield had said anything to him directly or found out about his social standing from other people. Surely Mrs. Breffield would not embarrass me like that. Just as that thought came to mind, Nicole saw the woman pointing to her car from the steps. She was talking to the young preacher, and before Nicole realized what was happening, he was walking toward her.

Nicole grabbed her purse and opened the door. Did you need help carrying the song books? he asked before she could make her escape.

The preacher was even better-looking in person, with his chocolate eyes and thick, dark hair. Nicole could feel her cheeks burning. Uh, no, I actually got some of the youth to carry them in this morning, she said.

I’m Nick Venucci, he said as he stuck out his hand. Nicole shook it, and he held it a half second longer than he should have. I didn’t think so, but that nice young lady over there on the steps—the one that is still standing there, watching the progress we are making—told me you might. He grinned at her, and his teeth were big and white. This is awkward. You haven’t even told me your name yet, and she thinks we are doing the seating chart for our wedding.

Nicole laughed. Awkward doesn’t cut it; she’s been trying to marry me off since I moved here. She closed the car door and began walking to the church. Nicole, she said. It felt strange for her to walk beside somebody.

What? he asked.

Nicole Bishop is my name, she said.

Oh, that’s good because, it would be bad not to know the name of the mother of my future children, he teased. Is that your grandmother?

Nicole was smiling, and it almost hurt her face. She realized those muscles had not had much practice in a long time. No, she’s my landlord.

Nick scrunched his eyebrows at her. Really? Nicole nodded, understanding his confusion. I’ve never had that kind of relationship with someone I was renting from.

It’s a long story, she said, wanting to change the subject. So, you’re doing our revival—it’s a very exciting time here.

I’m excited about preaching it. Your pastor has been a really great friend to me and he’s helping me get on with the missions board. I want to help start some churches in foreign countries, but it’s a difficult process. It’s been delayed for almost ten years because of some tragedy that happened in one of the missions in Bolivia, he explained as they made it to the door of the church.

Nicole felt the blood rush to her head, and a pang of nausea hit her stomach. She had not realized the impact her parents’ deaths had on that aspect of foreign missions. Well, here we are. It was nice meeting you. Nicole made a beeline for the restroom to try and calm her nerves. She paced back and forth, taking in deep breaths. She had been in Chicago for far too long for her past to catch up with her now. When the rhythm of her heart had returned to normal, she checked her appearance in the mirror. Since she wore only minimal make-up, her face looked fine. She took another deep breath and walked into the sanctuary. There, she took her seat at the piano.

Nicole began playing softly as others entered the church for the evening service. She saw Nick moving toward her from the corner of her eye. He bent to her ear and whispered, Hey, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, and that’s bad, because I really need you tonight. She looked over at him with her head cocked to the side, encouraging him to explain himself. He smiled. "That didn’t come out like I meant it to. What I meant to say is, I’m the preacher, and you’re the music leader, and it will be bad if we can’t work together well. So that’s why I need your help tonight." He laughed at himself. His laugh was big and boisterous, and Nicole realized she was smiling again before she knew it.

Well, she finally whispered, I think we’ll be fine.

Nick patted her on the back before he walked away, and she caught the eye of Mrs. Breffield and her horde of ladies giving her a thumbs-up. She looked down at the keys immediately. Then, she pulled the microphone over to her mouth so she could sing; it was her peace, the only thing in which she could find solace. She began with I Can’t Live A Day. Nicole sang that on purpose and looked over at Mrs. Breffield and friends during the beginning, I could live life alone and never feel the longings of my heart, the healing warmth of someone’s arms… At the conclusion, the church’s pastor, Brother Mike, took the stage to introduce the services.

I’d like to welcome everyone to our big little church. We call it that, because we are big, but we have a little home-like atmosphere. Tonight we are going to be blessed beyond measure as we hear from a guest speaker, Nicholas Venucci. He will kick off the first night of our four-night revival. Nicholas is an up-and-comer that preaches like a seasoned veteran of the ministry. He has a calling for the mission field, and that’s where he would appreciate all your prayers for him. We’ve got special music tonight from our lovely Nicole Bishop. She’ll be doing a few more songs for us, and our choir will do a few. Now, Nick will be here all week, and we’ll have special singing every night. We are blessed to have the Ray Family on Monday night. We might have to charge admission. Everyone laughed. I’m just kidding. But you keep this revival in prayers, fasting, whatever God instructs you to do because He’s going to move, and He’s got a work to do. Amen?

Amen! the congregation yelled in unison.

After the service, Nicole walked around the stage and began picking up the hymnals that the choir members had left on their seats. Nick was at the door, greeting the people of the congregation with Pastor Mike as they left the church. Mrs. Breffield had gotten a ride home with one of her friends, because they ate dinner at Max and Erma’s every Sunday night after service. When Nicole had everything in order on the stage, she sat back down at the piano to practice a song she had been trying to perfect. She was playing it softly and singing the words to herself when Nick appeared at the piano. She stopped playing.

Hey, Nick Venucci—you are some preacher! That was wonderful, Nicole said with a warm smile, the awkwardness of their initial conversation almost gone.

Well, Nicole Bishop—you are some singer! He returned the sentiment. You know I preach a lot of revivals and special services and not to be rude, but you always wonder about places when they get in-house people to do the special singing. Did they run out? Couldn’t they book somebody? But, not with you—most places would pay to have you come sing. You are beyond words; it was one of the most anointed performances I’ve ever heard.

She was taken aback. Well, thank you. And, your preaching was very real and hard-nosed. I like hell and brimstone every now and then. I don’t want butterflies and angels all the time. I really liked it. I could really tell God was speaking through you.

Why? Because I didn’t say anything stupid? He laughed.

She shrugged. Whatever you think. Nicole realized she was flirting with this stranger; it had been a very long time.

You are cruel, he said, after a little laugh. How long do you stay here after church?

As long as it takes to get it right, she said with a pause. I’m a perfectionist.

He threw his head back. Aw, I should’ve known there was a glitch somewhere.

Nicole grinned. I’m not sure what you mean.

Well, you’re smart, funny, beautiful and you sing like. He paused for a moment too long. Well, I don’t even know what to compare you to. So, you had to have a fault—you have obsessive compulsive disorder. You are probably practicing a song you aren’t singing for another month or two.

Nicole laughed. Two weeks. She could feel her cheeks burning.

Nick nodded slowly. I’m hungry.

Not to change the subject, but … she said, laughing.

It was a segue, he explained.

For what? he asked.

An opportunity for me to ask you to dinner so that we don’t disappoint your landlord, he said.

Nicole shook her head. I’m flattered, but—

But, what? You don’t date handsome, Italian preachers? he asked and she found his confidence refreshing and a little intimidating.

Nicole laughed. I just don’t think I’m ready to date someone.

Ah, you’ve just gotten out of a bad relationship. How long has it been? he asked.

She bit her lip. Almost five years.

His eyes grew large. That must have been some relationship!

She laughed again. I just meant that it’s been that long since I’ve had a date.

Why? You’re not some crazy cat lady, are you?

She shook her head. No pets.

Nick pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. Shew, that’s good. So, why no dating in five years?

Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been doing the returning to my first love kind of thing, she said.

Well, I can’t argue with that, but five years? Come on—you about done? he asked. Nicole had no idea what to say; she was taken aback by his straightforwardness. Nick stood there for a few more moments. So, do you want to go out with me or not? It’s going to be pretty awkward for the revival if you tell me no again. Nicole was shocked by his persistence. She gulped and before she knew it, her head had nodded and she was closing the lid on the piano.

So, where are you from? Nick asked as he sipped his drink through a straw.

Kentucky, she answered after swallowing a bite of chicken.

You don’t have that accent I hear about all the time, he stated.

I’ve lived here for five years; I guess I may have lost it, Nicole said and began looking around the restaurant nervously. I want to apologize in advance if I’m not a very good date. I’m kind of new to this and I’m not really sure what the right things to say and do are. So, I’m sorry if this doesn’t turn out well.

Nick looked deeply into her eyes. You’re a natural. Then, he broke his stare and took a bite of steak.

Nicole was blushing. So, how long have you been preaching? she asked, trying to get the conversation rolling on a safer topic.

Just about a year and a half, he answered. I was brought up Catholic and got saved at a BSU event in college. I’ve not been a Christian that long but man oh man, I love it. I’ve got this burning in my soul. I feel like my heart is on fire sometimes and I just want to shout it from the rooftops about what Christ did for us. He stopped and looked at her. I’m nuts. I work with a youth group at the Inner City Youth Center. I do a lot of Youth Rally Worship stuff. That’s where it’s at. He took another drink of his Coke and began watching her absent-mindedly play with the necklace around her neck. It was a thin silver chain with a small amethyst on the end. That’s pretty.

She looked at him and then dropped her hand. Oh, thank you; my dad bought that for me a long time ago.

Are your parents in Kentucky? he asked.

Nicole gulped and all the color drained from her face. She used to be good at telling the story. But, it had been so long that it hit her like a ton of bricks. Her voice broke mid-way through her answer. They’ve both passed away.

Nick felt terrible; she could tell. I’m so sorry; I had no idea.

A tear rolled down her cheek. It’s fine. I’m sorry. Nicole wiped her face with her hand. I was sixteen and it’s been a long time since I’ve talked about it. So, it just hit me funny or something. My aunt raised me.

Is she in Kentucky? he asked. More tears came rushing down her face and she could not form words to answer his question. So, he answered for her, She passed away too. Nicole nodded and wiped her cheeks and under her eyes with the napkin from her lap. I’m zero for two. And, you thought you were going to be a bad date. She laughed despite her pain. I’ll tell you what. Let’s not dwell on the past. The past is the past. Let’s talk about right now. Tell me about you.

And, just like that, Nicole felt a huge weight being lifted from her shoulders. She calmed herself and wiped her eyes. Well, I’m a nurse at the Free Clinic down on Third Street. I volunteer with the Red Cross on Saturdays and do the occasional disaster. I worked at Mercy Hospital for four and a half years but left because I wanted to do volunteer work with the Red Cross. The Free Clinic works around my schedule.

That’s really awesome. You like the mission field then? he asked.

Nicole nodded. One day I want to be a medical missionary when the time is right. I look at my time with the Cross as a mission. I’ve been able to witness to so many people; it’s really a great ministry. I’ve gotten to go to Houston and L.A. in the last six months; I’ve been really busy.

What was that like? He asked.

I don’t know. Houston was harder than L.A. It was the first one and I felt like I was missing something in Houston that I was supposed to do. There was this feeling I had like I was on edge the whole time. It was hard seeing all those people, especially the kids so sick. But, after a couple days—I got on track with it all. After all the medical stuff was finished, I went back in the evenings and played and sang with the kids. I taught them VBS songs and had a little Bible study. There was this one kid that had lost both his parents; he was like three years-old. I sung him to sleep every night. He asked for me by name. I cried when I left him and called the home where he was staying every week. He was adopted the next month. She looked up at Nick; he was smiling at her. What?

You are amazing, he said.

Nicole smiled at him. Are you just saying that because you want me to pay for dinner?

He laughed.

After dinner, Nick drove her back to her apartment. They sat outside on a bench and talked for a long while. Later, as he walked her to the door, he placed his hand on the small of her back. Nicole had mixed emotions about him touching her. I had a really nice time tonight, she said and turned to face him.

Nick grabbed her hand and lifted it to his mouth. He kissed it gently. Good night.

Good night, Nicole said breathlessly and unlocked her door. She closed it behind her and laughed at herself.

CHAPTER 2

Back in Lexington, Kentucky, Dr. Matthew Thompson had just finished making rounds. He walked by the nurse’s station and gave them a smile and nod. The nurses swooned as usual, but Matthew did not really notice. He was tall and very good-looking, and had a wonderful personality that drew people to him. To top it off, he was in very good shape. He jogged every morning and sometimes at night to relieve himself of his frustrations. Matthew walked into the residents’ lounge to get a bottle of water and sit down for awhile. He had been at the hospital for almost twenty-four hours straight. He was about two hours away from going home for a couple of days.

He could not get his mind clear. His thoughts kept jumping from fear to all-out anguish. He felt like he had an ax swinging above him on a pendulum. He could not find rest from his anxiety. To make matters worse, he could not pinpoint it now. Before, he knew what was bothering him. Or whom. Nicole. He thought of her at so many moments during the day. But now, it was something bigger than missing her. It was something he could not put his finger on and it was killing him.

As he contemplated this, he thought of his Granny Etta. He dialed her number. It was very early, but she was always up before the rooster would crow. To his surprise, the phone rang several times before he heard a groggy, Hello.

Gran? Matthew asked.

Yeah, she said as she was waking up and clearing her throat. Are you tired yet? Granny Etta laughed a little.

Worry overcame Matthew, "I’m okay. You don’t sound good. Are you alright?"

He could hear her take a deep breath. I’m just tired. We canned a bunch of stuff last night and I stayed up too late for an old woman. Why are you callin’ me anyhow? Shouldn’t you be savin’ lives or something?

Matthew smiled, that sounded more like her. I was just worried about you. I’ll be home in a couple of hours. Matthew had moved in with Granny Etta when he started residency. He was the only person she would agree to living with her because he would not be there a great deal. It made her feel like she was not as helpless as everyone tried to make her out to be, even though she knew she was going downhill fast.

Well, I’ll make you breakfast, she answered. I made some more of that jam you like.

I don’t want you cooking if you’re tired. I’m a big boy. I’ll find something to eat on the way home. Let me bring you something, he said.

I’d be ashamed, Matthew Thompson. Here I am a sickly old woman, offering the only thing she can to her favorite grandson—food—and he won’t even take it. Granny Etta had awakened.

Matthew laughed, he felt relieved at her being feisty. I’m your only grandson.

Granny Etta laughed. I’ll have it ready at nine o’clock sharp; don’t be late. She hung up.

Matthew hung up the phone and laughed a little. He was glad she started sounding better, but he was not doing well with the fact that she was getting older and feebler. She had been so strong his whole life. Granny Etta had been a go-getter—she went to college and got a degree when women were told to stay at home. She raised Matthew’s mother all by herself after his grandfather died in the war and then helped start one of the biggest churches in the area. She had always been his rock. And, now he felt like she was fading away and he had nothing on which to cling.

Matthew took a final drink from his water bottle and tossed it in the recycle bin. He had to check on some patients’ lab results and then conference with the oncoming staff before leaving. He opened his locker still feeling defeated and tried to force himself to close it back before he reached into the hidden compartment of his wallet. He pulled out a wrinkled photo of two teenagers holding microphones. The boy was looking at the girl, and he was singing his heart out. You could see the strain on his face from the note he was hitting. The girl had her eyes closed; one hand raised to Heaven and although she was hitting the same note, there was no strain on her face. Matthew took a deep breath and the sting of what the picture revealed rocked him to the core. He was focused on her, much like he was now. She was focused on God. That was the difference in their expressions. Matthew put the picture away and slammed his locker.

CHAPTER 3

The next morning, Nicole awoke refreshed. She felt a renewed sense of hope about life and love, about the world itself. She had gone for so long thinking that she would never be able to move beyond her past or have a chance of being the person she wanted to be. She felt like she had that chance now. Nicole took off her Packers T-shirt and threw it in the hamper. Then she put on her workout clothes. She was setting the timer on her treadmill when her phone rang. It scared her because it was 5:00 a.m. and she was sure it had to be an emergency for someone to call this early. She jumped down and ran to answer it. Hello.

Good morning, came Nick’s cheery voice.

Hi, she said and could feel her face blushing. Is everything okay?

Yeah, why?

It just scared me because it’s five in the morning, she said, relieved.

Oh sorry about that—I just wanted to call and tell you that I was praying for you today and that I had an awesome time last night and I wanted to ask you to pray for me because I haven’t got a sermon yet, he explained.

Nicole exhaled and it felt lovely. She had longed for such a relationship with a Christian man. Of course and I really appreciate it. Thanks for calling; I had a great time last night too.

Can we do dinner again after the service? Nick asked.

She discovered she was smiling and felt lighter than air. Definitely.

As the weeks passed, Nick and Nicole began seeing more of one another. Pastor Mike had invited Nick to join the church until the missions board brought him