Chasing Grace

By David Temple

A STORY ABOUT FAMILY AND THE POWER OF FORGIVENESS.

It's a perfect afternoon in small-town America, as the Matheson family celebrate Grace's ninth birthday. But when an unimaginable accident happens, it threatens to tear the family apart, as it threatens their faith.

With some time, but not without pain, an incredible transformation begins to take place. The Mission Grove community comes to realize that bad things do happen to good people, but also true: time truly can heal all wounds.

Chasing Grace is based upon real events, and is full of rich characters wrapped in complex drama and poignant lessons. It's also a powerful story of how a family learns to transform the pain of loss into the power of love, and how it is as important to forgive yourself, as it is to forgive others.

---------------------

Originally entitled Discovering Grace, this story was adapted to screenplay and renamed Chasing Grace by author David Temple. David raised the funding, then directed, produced and starred in the award-winning indie film which sold immediately to Word Entertainment, and now lives on many On-Demand streaming services such as Netflix, as well as seen in over 100 countries around the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: 82 MERCER Publishing
• Release date: Jul 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393580218

David Temple

David Temple has worked as a Morning Radio Host, an actor in TV & Film, and has had decades of experience as an international voiceover artist. His first book, Discovering Grace, was turned into the award-winning independent film, Chasing Grace, where it lives on Netflix, AmazonPrime, Pureflix, and in over 100 countries. The Carter Matheson Series features a retired special ops assassin who works to keep his family, friends and country out of harms way. The series includes: Lucky Strikes and Behind The 8 Ball. The third book, Knuckle Down, has recently been re-released after a major overhaul. David's latest character is Detective Pat Norelli, a rookie detective with beauty, brains and a determination to solve any case. The Poser is available now, and the sequel, The Impostor, is coming early 2021. David lives in San Diego with wife Tammy. Want to learn more and stay in touch, visit: DavidTempleBooks.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Aman lies face down on the bed, motionless and breathing heavily. He wears shorts and a faded golf shirt. The bed, large and ornate, is carved with scenes of the Deep South. An overhead fan spins slowly, stirring the drapes, as half-drawn shades darken the room, helping to filter harsh afternoon sun. A grandfather clock chimes three times in the distance, further punctuating the lazy passage of time. Oblivious to the vibrant sounds of children playing outside the tall windows, the man didn’t stir.

---

Sun sparkled through century old oak trees and their leaves dance in the breeze. Children played in the yard, their laughter echoing through the neighborhood. Chasing one another they were happy and carefree—their world, an imaginary fortress, a castle, a western frontier, or anything their imaginations could create.

Summer seemed the perfect season. People relaxed more, and stressed less. Children played more, and fought less. Families vacationed more, and worked less. And everyone seemed to nap more, as there was nothing better than a long nap on a lazy afternoon.

Jonathan and Angela relaxed in matching lounge chairs, embracing the quiet. 

Angela enjoyed a summertime novel, a perfect recipe to escape the day. A floppy hat shaded her bright blue eyes, while protecting her fair complexion from the hot sun. She loved getting lost in romance novels because they offered things she secretly dreamed of. She was certainly happy, but also secretly longed for the kind of passion which seemed to have faded with two decades of marriage. She still deeply loved her husband, but with the responsibilities of three children, private moments had become rare.

Gently patting her sleeping husband’s arm in the chaise lounge next to hers, he didn’t stir. Neither did the John Deere mower which was cooling nearby, having spent an afternoon of mowing their several acre yard.

Jonathan was fond of saying that mowing was a simple pleasure of time spent alone—away from children’s chatter, his wife’s honey-do lists, and a long string of phone calls. Nothing but the throaty roar of a powerful mower and the smell of freshly cut grass. For now, Jonathan was oblivious to the world, as he lightly snored beneath his favorite worn straw hat.

Angela’s sundress draped a slim figure that reflected extra hours in the gym. Smart sandals revealed manicured toes that wiggled as she read, and even though she looked like Glamour magazine, her life was more Family Circle.

Putting down her book, she poured a glass of lemonade from the pitcher on the table between them, while humming, Summertime and the living is easy.

Looking up, she took a long sip, watching her children playing with neighborhood friends. There were her sweet three, a neighbor’s friendly four, and a neighbor’s ferocious five. Their happy voices provided the perfect backdrop to an idyllic day. 

She smiled, loving to hear their laughter—their inhibitions were unrestrained, and their minds, open to all life had to offer. They, like the moment, was unspoiled, innocent and peaceful. Those qualities were her deepest joy. 

Suddenly, a screen door flung open, slamming against the house—followed by the shriek of a young girl and the screams of neighborhood friends.

You’re it, Grace!

Grace’s older brother, Christopher, was chasing after their younger brother, David, who had jumped on his back, quickly sidelining him.

The group of children cheered Grace then piled on Chris, tackling him to the ground. The momentary distraction allowed Grace to capture the lead.

Angela looked up just in time to see her nine-year old Birthday Princess run into the house. Glancing over, she saw that Jonathan had remained undisturbed by children’s voices, then returned to her novel.

As Grace poked her head out to check on her brothers, she saw Chris had dumped his brother in order to chase after her. She darts back inside and runs across the huge living room, stopping at the entrance to the kitchen. Her grandmother intercepts, holding up a stern hand, yet smiling at her excited granddaughter.

"Oh, no you don’t, Gracie. Nana’s preparing for someone’s special birthday party. Now, run along."

Giggling, Grace ran in the opposite direction, as Christopher entered the living room. Looking over her shoulder, she disappears down the long hallway—her small hand gliding along the wall for balance. The sound of her shoes muffled, as she transitioned from hardwood floors to antique carpets.

At the end of the hall, she stopped for a brief moment, looking one way then the other. Christopher has gained ground, so she runs toward the guest room at the end of the house. Stopping at the doorway, she hesitated before entering—letting her eyes adjust to the dark and quiet room. It was a sharp contrast to the bright outdoors.

Tiptoeing to the four-poster bed, she was about to shake her Uncle, as Christopher entered, stopping to catch his breath.

Gracie, he's taking a nap.

Ignoring him, she shouts, Wake up, Uncle Carter! He didn’t move.

Seeing a glass of water on the bedside table, she picked it up for a drink, just as Christopher noticed an empty bottle on the floor, partially hidden behind the nightstand.

Stop, Gracie! That's a grown-up drink.

Spitting it out, she blurts, Yuck!

"I told you. C'mon, let's go. It’s your turn to be It."

Why do people drink that stuff, Chris?

I don’t know. Maybe it makes them feel good. C’mon, let’s go back outside!

Grace giggled, shaking her uncle once more, but he still didn’t budge.

"Let’s go, Christopher loudly whispered. They’re all waiting for us. And for someone’s birthday cake," he said, turning to leave.

Just before leaving, she saw something peeking from under Carter’s pillow. Chris, look what I found.

Whipping his head around, he saw Grace holding a gun. Petrified, he shouted, Grace, put that down. It's dangerous!

Waving it around, she giggled again. "Let's play Cowboys and Indians, and this time, you’re the Indian and I'll be the Cowboy!"

Panicked, he slowly approached her. "C'mon, Gracie, please stop playing with that and come play with me. Seriously, let’s go."

Hoping she would follow, he turned to leave, then hesitated, turning back only to find her looking down the barrel.

Grace, put it down. Now!

Startled, her hand slipped.

BANG!

Chapter 2

The crackling sound of a gunshot pierced the afternoon silence.

Angela dropped her book, looking in all directions.

A scream from inside made her blood run cold and her heart pound.

Ch-Christopher, she shrieked, gasping for air.

Jumping up, she sprinted toward the house.

Across the large yard, she found one child after another, standing in place—their faces frozen with panic.

Grace! she shouted in fear.

Time seemed to slow—as her mind continued to race.

Children cried—their faces covered with terror.

As Angela approached the porch, she could hear Daphne running down the hall toward her.

A frightening pain pierced Angela’s heart, as scared children slowly approached the porch—stricken with a shock that something was terribly wrong. Huddling together, they desperately hugged one another, crying.

Her mind was torn, trying to comfort them, but her entire being was being pulled in the opposite direction, searching to learn what had just happened.

Shhh… she tried to comfort them. Stay here and I’ll be right back.

Just then, Daphne swung open the screen door—a look of sheer panic blanketed her face.

Approaching the top step, Angela reached for her mother.

In an instant, she knew what had happened.

Jonathan, now steps behind her, took her arm. Stay right here. Don’t move.

In a daze, she nods—seeing his scared expression, immediately turning to her mother.

Daphne was petrified.

Panic raced through Angela.

And as the impending reality crescendos, she fell into her mother’s arms.

In that instant, the earth seemed to shift beneath Angela’s feet, as her heart slowly fractured into a million pieces.

Chapter 3

The deep gray sky seemed to reflect the sorrow felt at that moment. Heaven's head seemed to bow, as a family mourned in deep despair—their sunshine, having left without warning. A fine mist soon began to fall on the mourners who encircled the tiny grave.

Pastor Jonathan Matheson, wife Angela, and their sons, Christopher and David stood silent—their hearts shattered by the harsh reality of a careless moment.

Angela seemed years older than just a week before.

Christopher gazed into the distance, expressionless.

And young David held his mother's hand, squeezing tightly while quietly crying.

They shared a look, but it was vacant. They were crushed by the disbelief such a terrible thing could have happened. As much as she tried to valiantly smile in hopes of comforting David, he knew comfort wouldn’t come easily. Or soon.

Jonathan stood silent as a statue for a long several moments, before he finally spoke. Choking back tears, and trying to remain stoic, he knew it was all but impossible. After all, these were his flock. And their eyes turned to him for strength.

Thank you for coming today. Each of you are a blessing and a comfort to Angela, me and our boys. What happened last week was a tragedy. Some have said it was an accident, his voice caught. But it was certainly…a tragedy.

Gathering himself, he looked up to see his brother Carter standing nearby, under the shade of an old oak. Even in the drizzling afternoon, Carter wore sunglasses—no doubt, to hide himself. He appeared 20 years older than Jonathan, though only 10 his senior. Motionless, he stared at Jonathan, then to the tiny casket.

Grace was a very special little girl. An angel, actually, sent to us from God, Jonathan continued. And in a family with a long history of boys only, it was not only a miracle, but a tremendous blessing to receive our first daughter into the Matheson family. She certainly was the apple of our eyes.

He took Angela’s hand and squeezed it. She shook in agony, trying with all her might to remain strong for him, for them, and for herself.

Carter caught Christopher staring at him. His nephew’s jaw was taut, his hands clenched. Carter could practically feel his rage from across the lawn. Carter dropped his gaze, before looking back to Jonathan.

With a long, deep breath, Jonathan continued. Grace had a unique ability, a special gift that caused everyone to feel special—as though they were the only one in the world who mattered. She had that wonderful affect on people. And we loved her so very much. We all did, he said, extending his arms toward the congregation. She will always be in our hearts…always in our thoughts…and never far from our memory.

Angela looked into the faces of her friends. One by one, they offered a consoling smile, a little nod of comfort—all of which was their attempt to console.

Then her eyes met Carter's.

With a long, solemn stare, he gave a slow nod. After a moment, she returned the nearly imperceptible gesture.

Turning to Christopher she watched her sons trying to be strong for one another. Christopher had his arm around David. David tugged on Angela’s sleeve, and as he looked at him, she mouthed, I love you.

Let us pray, Jonathan said quietly.

They bow their heads and gather hands.

Dear Father in Heaven, thank you for friends and family who love and support us in our deep need. We embrace one another. And Lord help us, no matter the circumstances, to trust their love for us. Thank You for loving us. Help us love those who… he said, looking to Carter. Who may not deserve our love. I…we trust we will see beyond their darkness…and love them regardless.

Another long moment, before he continued. We commit Grace into Your hands, Father, and we pray that You will forever keep her close to Your heart, as she is in ours. In your name we pray.

Everyone responded, Amen.

Carter stood alone, feeling the crushing pain that he had no doubt caused the one family he loved more than anything. He could see the pain etched on their faces, and was nearly breathless from the crushing guilt that rested on his shoulders. Something distracted him, and he looked at Christopher. They lock stares. Carter could practically feel Christopher's anger penetrate him. Just then, Christopher’s girlfriend embraces him, but instead of blocking his steely gaze, Christopher slowly positioned her and himself so he could continue to stare at Carter.

Carter looked away.

Christopher looked to his dad who responded with a small smile and a wink. His son managed a faint smile in return.

Friends approached the family and shared hugs, quiet condolences and anything else to show their love for this family who have given so much to the community.

---

As the crowd began to leave, Jonathan whispered to Angela, Hang in there, love. I'll be right back.

She forced a smile, then watched to see where he was going.

He was heading toward Carter, who was stood with his back to the thinning crowd, while smoking a cigarette.

As Jonathan approached, Carter turned, dropped the smoke, and looked him dead in the eyes.

What are you doing here? Jonathan asked

What do you think I'm doing, Jonathan? Mourning the death of my niece.

How can you stand here, knowing the pain you've caused our family? And my church—a church, I might add, that you've never stepped foot in since I've been pastor.

Someone was best man at your wedding, remember?

You know what I mean.

They stared intently at one other.

Today’s a tragic day and you're being smart with me?

Carter took a long, deep breath. Has it occurred to you that I am hurting, too?

Sure, but something more important has also occurred to me. To all of us, I might add.

Carter said, I'm listening.

That it was your fault.

They glared at one another. Carter gritted his teeth. The veins in his forehead pulsated.

That’s not fair.

But true.

Carter leaned closer. Listen to me. You may be a great pastor, a loving husband and a good father, but you're a poor excuse for a brother.

Jonathan turned to leave, stopped, spun around and got up in Carter’s face. Maybe. But frankly, if it weren't for your drinking—

Mine?

Yes, yours, Jonathan said, taking another step closer. You’re a hopeless drunk. Just like Dad. And frankly, you both disgust me…with your hiding inside a bottle.

I seem to recall one brother who not long ago joined this hopeless drunk for a lot of drinks.

Jonathan straightened, trying to intimidate Carter. Oh, you enjoyed several, just not with me. I can’t handle it like you and Dad.

You were handling them pretty well that day, growled Carter.

Stop it, Jonathan barked. We could go in circles like this all afternoon but my family needs me.

What about me? Carter blurts. I am part of that family.

Jonathan stopped, shook his head. After what you allowed to happen on your watch? He waited another long moment then added, Not anymore.

Carter remained motionless—trying to appear emotionless. But deep inside, the pain of his brother's words rang in his ears, nearly crushing his spirit.

He watched as Jonathan left to join his family. One by one they got in a waiting car and drove away.

---

The mist which had fallen during the service had finally stopped, and a break in the clouds revealed a patch of blue accented by a single ray of sunshine.

His gaze traced that ray to where it rested on the tiny grave, and approaching it, he took a yellow rose from a nearby wreath then laid it on the mounded earth.

He whispered, I'm so sorry, Grace.

As the last car exited the cemetery—leaving Carter alone with his thoughts, a brightly colored orange monarch butterfly softly approached and encircled, before gracefully flitting away.

Chapter 4

Inside the family limo the family is silent, lost in sorrow. In the back sat Jonathan and Angela. On one side was David and his best friend Russ. Opposite the two boys were Daphne and Stuart, Angela’s parents. With their back to the driver were Christopher and his girlfriend, Kym.

Each passenger silently remembers Grace in their own way.

Angela: Grace, my baby girl. You were my joy. How I wish that God have given us more time. I so miss your sweet smell. It seems only yesterday that I was carrying you. I’ll never forget the day you were born. You came kicking and screaming into this world. Little did anyone know that your big personality covered such a gentle, sweet spirit.

Jonathan: I know I’m supposed to be strong, God, but why my baby? Why, Grace? How could you let this happen? I wish Dad could have met her. Damn him. And Carter, that rotten apple fell right off the old man’s tree. It will be a cold day before I let that drunk off the hook.

Christopher: Why couldn’t I have been the one to be ‘It’, Gracie? I should have set David down. I could have gotten to you sooner. I could have taken the heat. Oh, God, it is not fair. You are not fair. Grace was my best friend. What are we going to do without her? And Carter? Damn him.

David: Dear God. I’m sorry. My family hurts. They hurt and I hurt. Why did You allow this? Why do we believe in You if You allow such a horrible thing to happen? It is my fault. I should have been the one tagged. I should have been the one!

Daphne: Heavenly Father, please heal our family. Heal my daughter’s heart. We don’t know why you chose to take our angel, but we have to rely on your wisdom. It hurts. We hurt. I hurt. Please, help us heal.

Stuart: Please help us get our hearts into the right place to better understand all of this. I have no idea what you’re up to, but look at our family...we’re dying. If you hear my prayers, please help this family.

Turning into the neighborhood, the limo passed through the gates, up a long drive and into their beautiful development, where a small enclave of homes represented both history and influence.

The Matheson’s home had been in the family for over one hundred years. Stuart and Daphne inherited it after his mother passed away. They had raised Angela and her brother Fairfax here. And after building a smaller but handsome home on the back acreage, they gave the family home to Jonathan and Angela as a wedding gift.

Chapter 5

The early morning drizzle gave