Hold On (feat. Curt Anderson) // KJ-52

Six Years Later (from first prologue)

Nila

I feel a smile touch my face as I head up the steps of the house, Dad at my side and my duffle bag in hand. Don't get me wrong... I absolutely adore going on tour with them, but there's nothing like coming home.

As we reach the front door, Dad holds a finger to his lips, and I nod eagerly.

Gingerly, he reaches out and unlocks the door, then turns the doorknob, pushing gently yet swiftly to avoid drawn-out creeks. With a pro like him behind it, it doesn't make a sound. He peeks into the front room, but no one's there, so we both softly step inside and close the door behind us. We set down our bags without so much as a rustle.

Dad leads the way towards the kitchen, and I follow behind him, slipping out my phone and starting to record a video. I've gotta give the Cravers their daily dose of "Lourtney", after all.

Mom's in the process of flipping the grilled cheese sandwiches that she's obviously making for lunch. I can hear "Veggie Tales" playing in the den, so that's obviously where Jude and Phoenix are, and Leo is probably on nap time in the nursery.

Mom's humming softly, which makes things easier for us. I recognize the song as Dad and Joel's really old one, "She Believes in Me".

Stealthily, Dad creeps up behind her, then, when moment is right, placing his hands over her eyes. I hear Mom's sharp breath as she stiffens, only to immediately relax when she realizes what's up.)

"We're back," Dad murmurs, holding their position for a moment longer.

Mom turns around and they kiss briefly before her beaming smile takes over and she hugs him instead.

"I thought you weren't going to be home until tomorrow night," she says into his shirt.

"Our flight was changed," he replies, smiling down at her. "It worked for us."

I stop recording and put my phone away to greet my mother as she and Dad finally pull back. I rush across the room and hug her, inhaling her sweet, familiar perfume.

"I missed you, Ni," she says, just like she always does.

"I missed you too," I reply softly.

And I did, even if we were only gone for a few weeks this time. Touring with Dad is worth it, but I do feel the time away from Mom and the boys when they can't come along.

"The boys are dying to see both of you," Mom tells us as she turns back to the stove. "Go say hi, and I'll throw a few more of these on and have lunch ready soon."

Dad leans over and kisses her cheek before we both obediently turn to the hall.

We walk into the den to find Jude singing and dancing along to "Silly Songs with Larry", while Phoenix is much less interested in the television and more into the puzzle he's putting together on the floor.

Jude is mid-turn when we come into the doorway, and his eyes land on us just a little too late for him to make a graceful transition.

"Daddy!" he squeals, tripping over himself in his excitement. He doesn't stay down long enough for us to even start to worry, though, on his feet and racing into Dad's waiting hug in a matter of seconds.

Phoenix's lowered head jerks up at Jude's yell, and his face lights up in pure joy, echoing the cry of his older brother and racing into his daddy's waiting arms as well.

"Oh, you two have grown," Dad says as he hugs them. "You're going to be taller than your sister soon."

I glare at him, placing a hand on my hip. "Dad, Jude is four. I'm not that short. You're just a freaking giraffe."

He laughs. "Whatever you say, Love." He turns back to the boys, sitting back on his heels to look at them. "Were you two good for your mum while I was gone?"

They nod enthusiastically. "We were so good that Aunt Libby came and took us to get ice cream!" Jude tells him excitedly. "I got chocolate, and Phoenix got strawberry, and Aunt Libby got vanilla! But Leo's too little for ice cream, so he stayed with Mommy and ate gross baby food."

"You used to eat baby food too, Buddy," Dad chuckles. "But I'm glad you had fun with your aunt. Now aren't you two going to say hello to your big sister?"

It's like it just now crossed their little minds that I was gone too, and not just dad, and they both rush over to me and latch onto my legs in hugs. They're talking too fast for me to understand a word they're saying.

I just laugh, kneeling down to hug them while they chatter away.

As if on cue, Leo starts crying upstairs, and Dad runs up to get him, while I help the boys shut the movie off and put the puzzle away.

By the time we're finished, Mom has called for lunch, so we head out that way.

As soon as Jude and Phoenix are settled in their seats, I turn to Dad, who still has Leo, and wordlessly hold out my arms. Smiling, he hands over my baby brother, and I sink into my own seat.

I'll eat later. All I want to right now is seat here, hold our little lion cub, and enjoy life with the perfect family that I love so much.

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I'm exhausted by the time I collapse into bed. The boys, Dad, and I entertained just about every game on the planet tonight... hide and seek, tag, pirates, soldiers, Star Wars, you name it. But it's so worth it. Those kids are like little beckons of light. I guess now I understand a little what people were talking about when they called me their sunshine. It's still Wendy's nickname for me. We hardly ever see each other, but we email constantly. It's weird that we haven't switched to texting or something, but we never have. She's a senior in college now, and will be teaching Kindergarten before too long. It's a perfect job for her.

When I'm in the usual pair of shorts and tank top that I wear to bed and have brushed my teeth, I turn to laying out my clothes for tomorrow, when I'll head back to school. It's a weird schedule I keep... constantly hopping back and forth like I do, and sometimes I think my teachers hate me for it, but I don't care. I like getting the real high school experience, but I wouldn't give up going with Dad and Uncle Joel for the world.

My phone vibrates on my nightstand, and reach over and pick it up to see a text from Luna.

Can't wait to have you back tomorrow. I need you to keep Tyler off of my back, ugh... 😝

I smile and type back a quick answer.

Well, girl, if you weren't so dang pretty, it wouldn't be a problem, now would it?

I don't add that her not being so dang flirty would probably help too. I mean, I love her and all, but I know she actually enjoys the attention she gets from the boys, and she honestly does tend to encourage it, even if she likes to say it's annoying. She loves being the girl who always has a new dude crushing on her.

Stop it.

Again, she's enjoying it. But, I mean, who could blame her? She's drop-dead gorgeous, so why shouldn't you tell her so?

You know it's true.

She doesn't respond, so I'm finally free to crawl into bed. Once I'm there, I pick up my Bible from my nightstand, then grab my journal and pen and open it to where I left off.

For Sunday School at my church, we're studying the book of John. I facetime them for the class when I'm gone, so I'm caught up. I've already read this week's chapter, so now all I have to do before Sunday is journal down some thoughts for the discussion.

This week it's John 3, so I begin skimming it again, paying special attention to where I've underlined or highlighted verses in the past. John is my favorite book of the Bible, so those spots are fairly frequent by now.

In verse two, I have an interesting part marked out. It's introducing Nicodemus's talk with Jesus, only where the most famous verse in the Bible comes from, and just the words He came to Jesus at night are highlighted. That's weird. Why did I think that was significant? By the color I was using, it was pretty close to when I got this Bible, and my parents gave it to when they adopted me. Maybe I was just being a weird child. That's probably it. But I write it down anyway for my points to reflect on, and I'm not even sure why. I guess it's just weird.

I find verses 19-21, which I highlighted more recently, in the last year or so. This is the verdict; Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.

Here's something I can actually share if I need to, rather than some child's fun with a marker.

I copy the verses into my journal, and close my eyes, trying to focus and let God speak. Finally, I start to write whatever comes to mind.

It says you have to come into the light. We have to make a choice then, right? We have to choose not to hide. And everyone has some junk that they'd rather keep in the dark. But if we really understand the concepts talked about earlier in the chapter, about anyone who believes on Jesus being free from condemnation, we should also understand that it's covered. Later in John, Jesus says that if we love Him, we'll keep His commandments. So, we have to understand that doing His will is out of love, not fear of condemnation, right? And if that's true, then we should bring what we struggle with... the stuff we'd like to keep in the dark... into the light, and be honest with Him. Yes, He already knows, but if we don't talk to Him about it, how can He help us change?

I look it over, biting my lip. It seems a little incomplete. But that's what group studies are for, right? I feel good about the start I have, at least.

I skim the rest of the chapter for anything else to jump out at me, but nothing comes, so I close my Bible and turn back to my journal, focusing on prayer. I always like to write down a list of what I pray about, just so that I can look back and see when He answered my requests, when people's lives were changed after I interceded for Him, and to look at the things I was grateful for and remember them as a way to remind myself how good God is.

I mean, my life is going great right now... I have an amazing family, awesome friends, and everything I could ask for. But that could change at any moment. Dad's sickness was a slow fade, but it also seemed to happen so suddenly, and the memory of it won't leave my mind. It makes me fear life, even though I know it shouldn't. It just... makes everything seem so fragile.

What happened with Leo the other day has me even more worked up about it. I mean, what if Mom hadn't have found him? What if we really had lost him? I shudder at the thought. We didn't. That's what really matters. God came through, just like he did with Dad. He's got us on His shoulders. He's not gonna let us down.

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I hear the sound of a door opening downstairs, and feel my stomach tighten in nervousness. They're my parents, and I know I shouldn't feel like that when they get home, but who could blame me? I know what's coming. Maybe they'll be too drunk to bother me. It happens sometimes. They could just pass out in the living room. Not likely, but possible.

My hopes are dashed with one screamed, slurred word from my mother's mouth.

"Nila! Get down here, now!"

I swallow hard, but I know better than to disobey. They'll get in since there's no lock on my door, and then it'll just make everything worse.

I get up, take a deep breath, and leave my room to hesitantly slip downstairs.

The second I'm off the last step, I feel my heart stop beating. Because I'm looking at my mom. But the man with her isn't my dad.

"Where's Dad?" The question comes out a whisper.

"The ******** **** is at the bar," Mom snaps. "He won't be home until late. Now stop being rude and get us some ******* beer."

Yeah, cause you need it so much right now.

But, yet again, I know better than to argue, and I walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, which is almost empty except for the alcohol, grabbing two bottles of Bud Light and walking back into the living room.

I don't look the stranger in the face as I hand him his drink.

He smiles anyway, his breath hitting me in the face.

"Well, what do we have here?" he slurs. "Aren't you the fine little lady."

With a clumsy hand, he reaches out, placing his hand on my chest. I panic, jerking away and taking a step back.

"Don't touch me!" It comes out a fierce whisper.

He stands suddenly, anger contorting his face. "An ugly little **** like you should be thanking me for that," he sneers. "You don't like being touched, little ******? How about this?"

And his hand comes across my face, too fast for me to move and hard enough to knock me off of my feet.

I fly upright in bed, my breath catching in a brief cry.

It takes me a long moment to get back to the now, and realize what just happened. It was a dream. Nothing more than a dream.

I let myself sink back onto my pillow, rubbing my sweat-soaked hair out of my face as I do.

Why on earth would I have a dream like that? Why on earth was I thinking of that woman as my mother? Courtney is my mother. And I had a picture in my head of a father that was the furthest thing from Luke. It's so stupid how dreams can mess with your mind like that. I just don't get where that even came from. It doesn't make any sense.

I'm jerked from my thoughts at a light tap on my door. I look up to see it opening gently, as my dad steps through and closes it again behind him.

"Dad?" I whisper, sitting up. "What are you doing?"

"I heard you yell, Darling," he replies softly. "Are you alright?"

I swallow hard. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He seems less than convinced, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"Are you sure?" He adds gently, "I know what I heard, Love."

I force a smile. "Um... I think I had a nightmare? I don't know. It's one of those things you don't remember when you wake up, you know? I'm fine now, though, really."

Wait... what did I just do?

You lied to your father, you freaking idiot.

But... why?

Because he can't know about that. That's sick, and disturbing, and not what you're supposed to be thinking about. Yeah?

Yeah. True. So maybe it's best that he doesn't know.

"I'm sorry, Darling," Dad says in answer to my excuse. "You want me to pray with you before you go to sleep again?"

I swallow hard, but nod. "Sure. Thanks."

He reaches out and takes one of my hands in both of his, and we both bow our heads as he says a prayer like only he can. And I have to admit, I feel just a little better when he's finished.

We both straighten, and he leans forward, gently kissing my forehead.

"Come get me if you need anything," he murmurs. "I love you."

"I love you too," I say softly as I settle down into my blankets, drawing comfort from his presence as he leaves the room.

But as soon as he's gone, I feel everything crash down on me again.

I don't remember the last time I lied to my dad. Why was it so easy to do?

It was for the best, okay? He'd get super worried over what's probably nothing if you told him about that sick dream.

Seriously, I need to chill. It's not a big deal, and neither is the dream. It was just one of those weird things.

Right?