THE FALLOUT: THE CARTERS' CHRISTMAS SPECIAL: Dec 7th - The Drive
They thought they were driving toward their children. They never knew they were driving toward the truth.
THE DRIVE
December 7th. 7:42 AM.
The TV was on in the living room, volume low. Local news. Brenda Carter stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fastening her pearl earrings. The same ones Willis had given her on their twentieth anniversary. She was humming. Nothing specific, just a melody that had been stuck in her head since she woke up.
She felt good this morning. Lighter than she'd been in weeks. Like something was shifting.
In the bedroom, Willis was buttoning his shirt, the blue one Brenda liked. He could hear her humming through the wall and it made him smile. Brenda only hummed when she was happy. Or when she was trying to convince herself everything would be okay.
He hoped it was the first one.
From the living room, the TV droned on.
"...and now to meteorologist Karen Chen with today's weather. Karen?"
"Thanks, David. We're looking at a foggy morning across the metro area with visibility dropping to less than a quarter mile in some spots. If you're heading out early, especially on the freeways, please use caution. We're expecting conditions to improve by late morning, but for now, take it slow out there. Back to you."
Willis walked into the living room, adjusting his tie. He glanced at the TV, saw the weather map with the fog warnings. Frowned slightly.
"You hear that?" he called toward the bathroom.
"Hear what?" Brenda appeared in the doorway, smoothing down her dress. Navy blue with white flowers. Her church dress.
"Fog warning. Said it's bad on the freeways."
"We'll be careful." She walked past him into the kitchen, grabbed her purse from the counter. "I'm making eggs. You want toast?"
"Sure."
She pulled out the carton of eggs, cracked four into a pan. Willis sat at the kitchen table, opened the newspaper. Neither of them spoke. The only sound was the sizzle of eggs and the low murmur of the TV.
Brenda plated the eggs, set one in front of Willis, kept one for herself. She sat down across from him. Poured orange juice into two glasses.
They ate in silence.
Willis watched her over the rim of his coffee mug. She looked peaceful. More peaceful than she'd looked in weeks. Since Thanksgiving. Since the kids stopped calling.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.
She looked up, smiled. "The kids."
"What about them?"
"Just remembering." She took a sip of juice. "Bobby used to make me laugh so hard when he was little. You remember? He'd put on those little plays in the living room. Dress up in my heels and your ties and perform for us like he was on Broadway."
Willis chuckled. "He was always dramatic."
"Still is." She smiled wider. "And Bella would be right there with him. His twin, his shadow, his biggest fan. She'd make the programs on construction paper and charge us a quarter to watch." Brenda laughed softly. "Those two. Thick as thieves from the day they were born. Twin telepathy, we used to call it."
"They'd finish each other's sentences," Willis added.
"They still do sometimes." Brenda's smile faded just a little. "Or they did. Before."
Before. They both knew what she meant.
She took another sip of juice, pushed the sadness away. "And Wallace and Wanda were the same way. Our second set of twins. Just as close as Bobby and Bella, maybe closer. Remember how they used to have their own language? That gibberish only they understood?"
"I remember." Willis smiled at the memory. "We thought something was wrong with them. Took them to a speech therapist."
"And the therapist said they were just fine. Just close." Brenda's eyes got a little misty. "Four kids who came in pairs. Two sets of twins. We were blessed, Willis. So blessed."
Were. Past tense. They both heard it.
Brenda stood up, carried her plate to the sink. Rinsed it. Stared out the window at the foggy morning.
"They're going to be okay," she said quietly. "I don't know what happened at Thanksgiving. I don't know why they won't talk to us. But they're going to be okay."
Willis wanted to believe her. "How do you know?"
She turned around, looked at him. "Because they're ours. Because we raised them right. Because no matter what mess they're in, they'll find their way back. To each other. To us." She dried her hands on a dish towel. "God doesn't let families fall apart for no reason. There's a purpose in this. We just can't see it yet."
Willis stood, walked over to her, kissed her forehead. "I hope you're right."
"I am." She smiled up at him. "I feel it. Today's going to be a good day."
She walked to the counter, grabbed a notepad and pen. Scribbled something down quickly.
Invite kids to dinner next Sunday. Make pot roast. Call Bobby first.
She tore off the note, stuck it to the fridge with a magnet. Grabbed her Bible from the counter, tucked it under her arm.
"Ready for church?" she asked.
"Ready."
They drove in comfortable silence. The fog was thick, but Willis drove slowly, carefully. By the time they pulled into the church parking lot, the sun was starting to burn through the haze.
Brenda felt it again. That lightness. That certainty that everything was going to work out.
Inside, the church was warm. Familiar. The choir sang. The congregation stood, sat, stood again. Brenda held Willis's hand during the opening prayer.
Pastor Reynolds took the pulpit. A tall man with kind eyes and a voice that carried.
"Today I want to talk about forgiveness," he began. "Not the easy kind. Not the kind where someone says sorry and you say it's okay and you move on. I'm talking about the hard kind. The kind that costs you something. The kind that requires you to look at the person who hurt you and choose love anyway."
Brenda squeezed Willis's hand.
"Family," Pastor Reynolds continued, "is where we practice this the most. Because family knows how to hurt us deeper than anyone else. They know where the wounds are. And sometimes, they press on them. Not because they're cruel, but because they're human. Because they're scared or angry or lost."
He paused, looked out at the congregation.
"But here's the thing about family. You don't give up. You don't walk away. You fight for them. You forgive them. You show up. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. Because that's what love does. Love doesn't quit."
Brenda felt tears prick her eyes. Willis squeezed her hand back.
"So my question for you today is this," Pastor Reynolds said. "Who do you need to forgive? And who do you need to reach out to? Don't wait. Don't assume you have time. Life is fragile. Tomorrow isn't promised. If there's someone you love who's drifting away, go get them. Today. Now. Before it's too late."
The organ played. The choir sang. The congregation stood for the final hymn.
Brenda and Willis walked out into the parking lot, blinking in the midday sun. The fog had mostly cleared.
They got in the car. Willis sat in the driver's seat, keys in his hand. He didn't start the engine. Just looked at Brenda.
"Let's go see about the kids," he said.
Brenda nodded. "Let's start with Bobby. I have his address in my purse."
"Bobby first," Willis agreed. "Then we'll go see Bella."
He started the car. Pulled out of the parking lot. Headed toward the freeway.
Brenda settled into her seat, Bible in her lap. She looked out the window. The streets were quiet. Sunday quiet. Families home from church, making lunch, settling in for the afternoon.
She felt it again. That peace. That certainty.
Everything was going to be okay.
They merged onto the freeway. Traffic was light. Willis stayed in the right lane, kept his speed steady.
Brenda looked down at her Bible, opened it to a bookmarked page. Psalm 133.
How good and pleasant it is when God's people live together in unity.
She smiled.
"Willis," she said softly.
"Yeah?"
"It's getting kind of foggy."
He looked up. The road ahead was disappearing into a wall of white. Thick. Dense. He couldn't see more than twenty feet in front of them.
He slowed down, turned on the headlights. Gripped the steering wheel tighter.
And then he saw them.
Red tail lights. Dozens of them. Blinking. Stopped.
Too close.
Too fast.
He slammed on the brakes.
BREAKING NEWS
"We're interrupting our regular programming to bring you breaking news. A major multi-vehicle pileup has occurred on Interstate 10 near the downtown exit. Early reports indicate up to forty vehicles are involved. The accident occurred just after 1 PM due to heavy fog conditions that rolled in suddenly, reducing visibility to near zero. Emergency crews are on the scene. Several fatalities have been reported. We'll bring you updates as we receive them. If you have loved ones traveling in that area, please contact authorities. Again, a major accident on I-10 near downtown. More details to follow."
END PART 3: THE DRIVE
