Silver

By TJ Somer

Father and daughter brought together by tragedy. Nathan buries himself in his law practice and his daughter’s gymnastics career in an effort to forget the past. Grace lives and breathes her sport to fill the emptiness in her soul. When tragedy strikes again, Grace is faced with a dilemma. Run away from her past like her father or face it and learn from her mistakes? Is uncovering the secrets of her past the only way to find her future?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jul 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664238954

TJ Somer

TJ Somer’s passion is to turn events from her life into stories in order to take her readers on a journey to discover lessons from God in their own lives. It is is her prayer that her experiences will bring encouragement and hope to her readers. TJ lives with her husband, both lifelong residents of Michigan. She also enjoys writing poetry and teaching music.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Cairo, Egypt

Like stepping onto another planet. That was Nathan Fallon’s first thought as he exited the airport into the scorching sun, his light brown hair drenched under his faded baseball cap. He had never even left Michigan before, let alone the country. Yet here he was, standing on a dusty street in Cairo, his bright yellow shirt making him stick out like the foreigner he was. A beat up white car that looked much older than his 28 years pulled up beside him. A dark-skinned middle aged man dressed all in white climbed out.

Nathan Fallon? he said in his thick Arabic accent. I am Pastor Moses Gamal. I am very pleased you have come. Please join me in the car. Following behind, Nathan placed his one suitcase in the trunk and joined Pastor Moses in the old, steamy car.

Looking out the window, Nathan’s brown eyes gazed at the crowded streets filled with vendors, cars, people, each one giving testament to the hardship of the country. As the car made its way out of the chaos of Cairo, the roads grew empty, sandy, remote.

How long have you administrated the orphanage? Nathan asked, his curiosity about this serene pastor growing.

Pastor Moses shrugged. It will be ten years this month. These times are hard. Each year we lose more funds, more workers. But our few workers are dedicated. God has always provided a way. It is fortunate you have come as you have. Our maintenance worker had to return to his family home for a time to care for a sick relative. Until you arrived we had no one to fulfill his duties.

Nathan wondered at his empty heart as it squeezed with compassion. I’m only here for a month. I’ll do what I can. My mechanical knowledge is somewhat limited.

I am aware. Pastor Moses smiled without taking his eyes off the road. Please do not allow yourself to feel that your time here will not be enough. Whatever you can do will be invaluable to our ministry. God will continue to provide long after your time here is over.

Nathan again let his eyes roam the scenery as Pastor Moses drove them further away from civilization. The winding roads cut through nothing but sand sparsely dotted with withered plants from time to time. They passed a man leading a camel pulling a heavy laden cart. Nathan wondered about the man and his life. Wondered who would choose to live and work in such a desolate inferno. Not even an hour in this place and already Nathan’s clothes were drenched in sweat. He took out his bottle of water and took a drink, careful not to drink it all as he had no idea how long he would be subjected to these elements before they arrived at the orphanage.

As the old car chugged along, Nathan’s thoughts, with a will of their own, began to drift to a dark place. He shook his head slightly to dispel them and plant his mind firmly on the drive. He would not allow himself to go there. Not then, and hopefully not ever if he had his way.

Both men in the sweltering car sat in comfortable silence as they inched closer to their destination. Nathan found himself conflicted between leaving the past behind him and nervousness of what he had gotten himself into in this barren sand heap.

About an hour later, Pastor Moses guided the car to the right down a long, narrow driveway. A large, wooden skeleton of a building loomed into view. The kind of building one would expect to see with a wrecking ball crane nearby and a condemned sign on the front door. As Pastor Moses guided the car directly in front of the building, Nathan could see a petite young girl around 16 years waiting to greet them. Her dark eyes gazed at Nathan suspiciously as both men exited the car. Pastor Moses opened the trunk and handed Nathan’s suitcase to the young girl.

Nathan, this is Hala. She has been with us for about two months. She came here looking for shelter. Children her age usually wander the streets if they’re orphaned, But Hala has become a great help to me. He turned to the girl. Hala, please see that Nathan’s quarters are prepared for him while I inform him of his duties. Hala nodded and made her way inside the dismal structure.

She knows English? Nathan inquired as they made their way out of the sun’s heat and into the equally steaming furnace that was the orphanage.

All of the orphans here are taught English in hopes that they will be adopted. Most that are blessed enough to be adopted will likely be so by English speaking parents. Hala was a quick study, Pastor Moses explained. He continued, wasting no time. We have sixty orphans of all ages here at present. They are grouped into rooms by gender and age. At least one worker is required to tend to each room at all times. We will need to call on you to tend a room at times when others are not available. We have one worker who teaches Bible and school subjects to all children of age. We serve three meals a day. Bedtime is 9:00. Your duties will include helping with the children, aiding the workers, and daily cleaning and maintenance of the building. Any questions you have will be answered by myself or Hala.

Right on cue, Hala appeared at the top of the rickety staircase and nodded to Pastor Moses. I will show you to you room now. Come this way. Pastor Moses started up the staircase. Nathan followed, wondering if the stairs would even support their weight. Flickering dim lights attached to the walls cast just enough of a glow to make out a long hallway at the top of the stairs.

Nathan spat and coughed as he met with a cobweb. He was struck, not for the first time, how spoiled he had been in the States. He could not even be certain this place had running water. Halfway down the hallway, Hala stopped by a thin curtain that served as a door to a tiny room. She pushed the curtain aside and gestured for Nathan to enter.

Pastor Moses followed, looking apologetic. I am aware that these are not quarters of which you are used to Nathan, but I assure you this is the best we can offer. Please make yourself settled. You will find Hala in the front room when you are ready. She will show you to the kitchen to help prepare supper. Pastor Moses followed Hala out of the room.

Nathan stood in the middle of the room and gazed around. He had never seen the inside of a prison cell, but he imagined it would look much like this room. A small canvas cot lay in one corner. A chamber pot lay next to it. The lone window on the back wall looked as if it hadn’t been washed since the building was erected. A tiny table in the opposite corner supported a flaming lantern. That was it. Nathan felt as though he’d not only landed on another planet, but thrust back in time 200 years. This was his home for the next month. Nathan sat on the cot and silently prayed that God would sustain him through this time. He prayed most fervently for the inhabitants of this place. The poor souls who knew nothing of life but this building. He prayed God would use him to bring some light to this dark place. Some comfort, some joy.

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Two weeks went by and Nathan collapsed onto his cot well after midnight. He had never been so tired, so sore, or so hot in his life. He was convinced that if the unbearable heat didn’t kill him, the workload would. Nathan worked as well as he could to improve the living conditions. Fixing lights, repairing the water pump, scrubbing floors, repairing textbooks, washing dishes, changing diapers, chasing after children, the list was endless. The other workers seemed to take everything in stride, with joy even. Nothing seemed to phase them. He couldn’t figure out how they managed in such deplorable conditions.

Nathan slowly rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. For the first time since arriving in Egypt, he allowed his mind to drift to the place he strived to avoid. He didn’t know what he expected to find in Egypt. The sudden loss of Olivia three months ago had thrust him into an unbearable grief that he had to escape. The missionary at his church who spoke of an orphanage outside of Cairo that needed help seemed like the perfect place where Nathan could get as far away from Olivia’s memory as possible. Now that he was here, it seemed to make no difference at all. What I am doing here? he inquired of God. Does it ever get any easier? Does the pain ever go away? As his tears fell, Nathan continued to question God until he fell into an exhausted slumber. His last thought before he drifted off was that coming to this place was a huge mistake.

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The next morning, Nathan entered the kitchen with renewed purpose. He had actually slept well and woke up determined to make it through this mission trip with the best attitude possible. There was very little he could do about the conditions but he could do something about his mindset. He sat down to his breakfast planning to do just that.

Good morning, Nathan. Pastor Moses sat beside him. I want to thank you for fixing the water pump. Now we do not need to get trucks from Cairo here anymore.

Nathan shrugged. I don’t feel like I’m of much use here, but you’re welcome.

Nonsense, Pastor Moses replied. We are more grateful than you know. God will surely bless your toil here. Count on that.

I’m just doing the best I can. I plan on fixing the front steps today. I don’t want the children tripping on those loose boards, Nathan replied, shoveling falafel into his mouth.

That is fine. Just be sure to report to the infant girls’ room today. There is a crib that needs repair. Pastor Moses rose to leave.

An hour later, Nathan sat back in the ground and surveyed his work. The wooden steps looked even. He stood up and stepped on one. He bounced on it a few times. It seemed sturdy. That task completed, he made his way to the infant girls’ room where he found Hala waiting.

Nathan was taken aback by how Hala’s obsidian eyes seemed to cut through to his soul. Pastor Moses said there’s a crib that needs fixing?

Hala pointed. Back of room.

Nathan made his way there, barely noticing the seven other rickety cribs in the room occupied with baby girls. The crib finished in efficient time, Nathan was moving to leave the room when a tiny flash of color caught the corner of his eye. He came to a dead stop and turned to find an infant lying in one of the cribs. Her difference from the other babies was obvious. Her skin wasn’t nearly as dark, but still possessed a subtle olive tone with a warm rose blush in her plump cheeks. Her peach fuzz hair was a dark brown tinged with dark red. The color reminded Nathan of a rose dipped in chocolate.

It was when the infant opened her eyes again that Nathan saw what had caught his attention. Her eyes were a starry violet and even at her young age, seemed to stare at him inquisitively. Nathan willed himself to snap out of the baby’s spell and continue on his way.

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Very early the next morning, long before the desert sunrise, Nathan silently tiptoed his way to the infant girls’ room. He had not been able to get those haunting violet eyes out of his mind. The image had kept him awake all night, for once with something other than thoughts of Olivia. He figured for that reason alone, the thoughts were worth entertaining.

He inched down the dark hallways, stopping just outside the door of his destination when it creaked open and Nathan found himself face to face with Hala.

Are you in need, Mr. Nathan? Hala inquired, suspicious of his early hour.

Nathan endeavored to come up with an excuse that was not a total lie. I couldn’t sleep and just wanted to check on the crib repair I made yesterday.

The young maid narrowed her eyes at his before handing him a lantern. Very good. She turned to leave the room.

Nathan, dim lantern in hand, moved to the crib that ensconced the little violet. She was sound asleep as his eyes caressed her form with a love that he thought had died with Olivia. Feeling a slight mending of his broken heart at last beginning, Nathan knew no matter what it took, he would be taking this baby girl home. She was the soothing balm for his aching heart.

Completely unaware to Nathan, a figure lingered in the shadows watching the tall American man staring at the sleeping babe. Perhaps this moment made everything all worth it. It would be treasured for all of time.

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CHAPTER 1

Grand Rapids, Michigan

Ten years later

Grace Olivia Fallon slammed her locker door, her eyes sparking violet flame at the backpack strap stuck in the door. With an exasperated sigh, the ten year old spun the combination lock again as her best friend Layla Stark wandered into the room.

Still missing that release on the bars, huh? Layla asked gently. Both girls had been training at Grand River Gymnastics since age five. Side by side, they trained five days a week, soon to be increased to six as the elite qualifier test event was fast approaching.

Grace yanked her backpack out of her locker and slammed it shut again. Yeah, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Marin says if I don’t get the skill down, he’s not going to let me compete in the qualifier. Why can’t I just do everything right like you? The girls began to make their way out of the locker room.

Oh, please, I don’t do everything right, Layla stated, her backpack bouncing on her shoulder as she walked. I could never get the height on vault like you do.

Grace wrinkled her nose in disgust with herself. Well, you’re not in danger of not qualifying. I’ve never heard Marin say a bad word about you.

Layla couldn’t come up with anything to say to that. It did seem as if their Romanian coach has his favorites and Layla was one of them. The two girls were as different as night and day. Grace had a spark about her, accentuated by her mahogany hair and her striking violet eyes. She was a classic gymnast. She was strong, powerful, and competitive to a fault.

In extreme contrast, Layla had the long, lean body of a dancer. She possessed more grace than power. Her blonde hair and ice-blue eyes completed the look of a ballerina. The irony that Grace possessed the name of Layla’s attributes was not lost on their coach who enjoyed pointing it out on numerous occasions.

The best friends walked out the gym together and into the sunshine of an early spring evening where their parents awaited.

See you tomorrow, Layla said, sliding into her mother’s car.

Yeah, I’ll see you, Grace replied, climbing into the front seat of her father’s car.

Try as she might, Grace could not dispel the deflated look in her eyes. She never could. Those remarkable eyes always gave her away. Nathan, keenly aware of the fact, opted to ask anyway. How did it go today? He pulled the car into traffic and towards home.

Grace shot her father a look that berated him for asking the question. I messed up bars again today. Marin might pull me out of the qualifier.

There’s always next year, Nathan replied sympathetically.

I don’t want to wait until next year, Dad, Grace stated resolutely. It would be embarrassing if Layla qualified for elite and I didn’t. She’ll get to compete in all those big meets while I’m stuck in the gym.

Grace was thankful that her father chose to keep silent. Any attempts to cheer her up at that point would have only make her more angry. Grace had fallen in love with gymnastics from day one. Her father had been unprepared for her to take to it like a duck to water, except for her nemesis, the uneven bars. Now with her decision to try for elite, Grace had wanted to do nothing but train.

They finished the drive home comfortably, pulling into the driveway of the modest two-story home they shared. Upon entering the house, Nathan took off his jacket. Go change your clothes while I make us some dinner.

Okay, Dad. Grace made her way to the stairs, passing her trophy room on the way. Letting her backpack fall to the floor, she lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling, which seemed to be her custom after arriving home from the gym. At first, she thought about her bars routine and how she could possibly improve on that release skill. Eventually, her thoughts wandered to her father.

The two of them were very close, but there seemed to be a part of him that was always hidden from her. Grace knew she was adopted from Egypt, but that was the extent of her knowledge of her past. She had no mother and really didn’t understand why. Every time she broached the subject, her father was quick to change it. Never harshly or unkind, but enough to convey that he didn’t want to discuss it. Despite that one barrier, Grace knew she was loved. No matter how busy he was in his career as an attorney, he always somehow made time to transport his daughter to and from school and the gym and back home for dinner. Grace was very thankful for that. Layla’s parents had volunteered on numerous occasions to provide transportation, but her father wouldn’t hear of it. On some days, those car rides were their only opportunity to spend any time together.

Knowing dinner would be ready soon, Grace dragged her tired body off her bed and changed out of her leotard and tracksuit and into some sweats. She gained the kitchen just as leftover grilled chicken, potatoes, and green beans appeared on the table.

Would you grab us some plates, honey? Nathan asked her as her poured her some milk.

Okay. Grace reached into the cupboard.

Sitting down, they bowed their heads as Nathan said a prayer over their meal. "Thank you, Father, for this day. Thank you for this food You have provided. Thank You for my job and for keeping Grace safe in