Anna stood up and moved back behind Rita’s chair out of her view. She didn’t answer.
“I ask. What is a rose without a beautiful smell?”
Anna’s mind swirled in chaotic torment. As weird as Rita’s questioning was, Anna knew exactly what she was asking.
Rita chose to answer her own question. “A rose without fragrance is like a Christian without forgiveness—it’s just not natural.”
Anna’s heart began to pound within her chest.
“I am still here because of you, Anna. My work is not yet done, because you need prayer.”
Shock radiated through Anna’s being. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
“You have a secret, my dear, that the good Lord doesn’t want you to carry.”
Anna wanted to run from the conversation, but the wise old woman kept speaking.
“This secret goes against the will of God, doesn’t it?”
Anna’s eyes widened, and her hands began to shake. She gripped the wheelchair handles, glad that Rita could not see her.
“Don’t be afraid. Our friendship is not a mere coincidence. You were placed in my life at this precise time, because God has ordered it. Do you believe that?”
Anna squeaked out a weak “Yes.”
“God sees all and desires truth. He doesn’t condemn you. He loves you. He longs to set you free and bring restoration to your soul.”
Tears rolled down Anna’s face. She tried to brush them away, but the steady flow made it impossible.
“Now, now, my dear, it’s okay. Please push me over to that bench, and sit across from me.” Anna could barely see through the tears, but she complied.
Rita reached out her hands. Anna leaned forward and took them in hers.
“Rest assured, God hasn’t told me what your secret is, and I don’t need to know the details to see that it’s destroying you. So I stay, and I pray.”
The elderly lady’s eyes slid down to Anna’s rounded stomach. That look gave Anna the distinct feeling that this spiritually gifted woman could make a well-educated assumption.
Anna had argued her case before God. She had justified the lies with the fact it wasn’t her fault others had misread her situation. She had reminded God how she had set out to tell the truth and had not concocted the story. But all the excuses in the world didn’t bring back the peace she longed to have. He now used her dear friend Rita to bring home the truth—the one person she knew wouldn’t judge or condemn her. A crack in the fortress door of her heart creaked open.
Rita waited patiently. The love that oozed from her eyes beckoned Anna to open her heart and give over her burden. Hope and shame volleyed for attention. Rather than unwrap the sordid details, Anna turned from Rita’s gaze.
Rita nodded. She understood Anna’s choice. “Please take me in. I’m exhausted.”
Relieved, Anna scooted behind the chair, only too happy to leave that conversation behind.
Back in the room, Rita took one last inhale and handed the bouquet to Anna. “Choose the beautiful fragrance of forgiveness.”
Anna’s hand shook as she took the flowers from Rita’s outstretched hands and set them on the dresser for a moment. She gathered the blanket around Rita’s shoulders and tucked her into bed.
Rita whispered the strangest thing. “You know God loves you, don’t you Anna?”
Anna nodded.
“Well then, my dear, since you can’t find the strength to unload this burden, I’m going to pray that God brings about circumstances that force you to set this right.” She closed her eyes and drifted off.
Anna’s heart rate accelerated and pounded within her chest. She wanted to wake the now sleeping soul and beg her not to pray that prayer.
Matt tossed on his bed where sleep had eluded him for hours. He could not get comfortable.
Dreams of Anna flitted in and out of his consciousness and robbed his sleep. The longest eight months of his life had crawled by since their night together, and still his sorry heart beat that irregular rhythm at just the thought of her. Memories crept in at all hours of the day and night ensuring abject loneliness. A four-letter word slipped from his lips as he threw his covers aside and made his way to the kitchen.
With clenched fists he hammered the granite counter. Maybe I should give into Tamara’s invites. One quick call and I could have company. Just the thought made his stomach heave. He had no appetite for anyone but Anna.
He ripped his hands through his hair and massaged the taut muscles at the back of his neck. He wanted to be angry at Anna for the way she had cut him out of her life but then remembered her tender care of Steven. How can I blame her for loving so deeply when I want someone to love me that way? A twist of envy tightened his gut. No, not someone, I want Anna. But she has no clue how she broke down the walls of my guarded heart. No idea how my parent’s incessant fighting turned me off marriage and how her example of love gradually wore away the stain.
Nor does she have a clue how it took everything I had to keep proper boundaries. But once Steven died, yeah, I admit professionalism went out the window and possibility flew in. His heart picked up pace and his skin heated at the thought. And then that night … wow!
What a fool to let love grow just because she responded to me. And why can’t I forget now that I know the truth? He paced back and forth. It was just sex.
Yeah, as if. I made love for the first time that night, and nothing in my past has ever come close to what we shared.
“Aargh, this hunger—the pain.” A string of unpleasant words filled the kitchen as he screamed into the silence.
It was one o’clock in the morning, yet the ping of a text came through. He picked up his cell. Tamara again.
“Hey, handsome, you available tonight? I have the wine and dance, all I need is you.”
He hit the delete button. It sickened him to think of earlier days when that invitation would have been enough.
As he scrolled through the rest of his messages, his phone rang. The head nurse on the children’s ward informed him that Isabella was failing.
“I’ll be right there.”
“Nancy, I’m so sorry.” Matthew worked hard to choke back his tears. “Isabella was special to me too.” It took all he had to press past the giant knot in his throat. A muscle jerked in his jaw as he struggled to hold himself together.
He put his arm around the sobbing Nancy as he guided her toward a nearby chair.
“Nurse Helen will stay with you until … you feel strong enough to drive home.” He nodded at the nurse to take over.
Matt felt bad, but he didn’t have the strength to stay one more moment. He hurried down the hall to a quiet staff room, glad it was three in the morning and few were about. He breathed easy to find the room empty and crossed to the window. The street light flickered on and off, on and off. Matt stood as if in a trance. Thoughts of sweet little Isabella brought a flow of tears. He had broken his own unspoken rule and allowed himself to care for that child way more than he should have.
What’s wrong with me lately? First, I fall in love with a grieving widow. Then, I can’t stomach my old lifestyle and choose to remain alone rather than have Tamara join me. I allow this sweet child I knew wasn’t going to survive to work her way into my heart. And now I fall apart when a mother stricken with grief needs my professionalism the most.
A hollowness crept higher in his chest. His well-ordered life was spinning out of control. Years since the insecurity of his childhood and memories of his parent’s volatile relationship had surfaced, tonight he felt he was back there … like that young unwanted, unsure little boy.
Why did Matt feel undone? Restless? And why the intense ache to see if Anna was okay, as if something was amiss?
A grocery store came into view, and he cranked the wheel into the parking lot. Not a store he normally frequented, but it would do. He needed
a few things, and any distraction was better than his gnawing need.
With a basket in hand, he loaded up on vegetables and toiletries and headed for the check out.
“Hey, aren’t you Doctor Carmichael?” the cashier asked.
Matt looked up from his task of emptying his grocery basket and recognized a face he had met at Steven’s funeral. He rarely forgot a name. “Marcia, isn’t it?”
She beamed. “I can’t believe you remember me.”
Matt smiled. “But of course, you sang at Steven’s memorial service, didn’t you?”
Marcia nodded. “We all go to the same church.”
“How is Anna?” Matt asked nonchalantly, though his heartrate kicked up a notch.
“Oh, my gosh, like you will never believe it. What a miracle. But oh, how dreadfully sad all at the same time.”
Matt didn’t understand a word, but he was in the fast lane with a portly lady behind him clucking her tongue at their chit chat. It was time to tender his order, and knew he was holding up the line, but needed to know.
“What’s sad?”
“Like the whole thing … Steven dying and now the fact she’s—”
“Marcia, less socializing! Your lineup is out into the aisle and customers aren’t happy.”
Marcia rolled her eyes but snapped into action. She handed Matt his bag and receipt. “Nice to see you again, Doctor. I’ve got a solo part in the choir this Sunday, if you’re interested.” She smiled sweetly and turned her attention to the next customer.
Matt carried his bag to the car, more troubled than ever. What had that conversation meant?
Marcia had planted a seed. If he went to church on Sunday he would indeed see Anna for himself.
“God, I have no idea if you’re up there or not, but since Anna seems to think you are … it would take a miracle to work out my schedule so I can get to church this Sunday. Can you help me?”
He had to sweet talk another doctor into working his Sunday shift with his coveted hockey tickets.
The whole time he prepared, he hoped good sense would prevail, and he would find the strength to talk himself out of such irrational behavior. Not this time. He needed to see her. His heart began to buck at the thought.
“What do I wear, Abby?” he mumbled to his cat that lay stretched on his neatly made bed. “What do you think the Sunday crowd wears these days?”
Abby slid her eyes closed.
Part of him wanted to look his best just in case a chance meeting happened, but above all he wanted to dispel the nonsense that something was wrong.
He dressed with care, glad he had picked up his favorite shirt and pants from the dry cleaners the day before. Not too dressy and yet not too casual. He slid a tie into his pocket, just in case and gave one last glance into the mirror. He picked a fleck of lint off his sleeve and slipped into his jacket. “Well, Abby, here goes.”
Abby’s eyes squinted open but only for a second.
He had done a little research online and found that the First Baptist Church was not one of those mega churches he had seen on TV. The congregation just big enough he wouldn’t stand out, yet small enough he could find Anna.
He left early to allow ample time to get there but planned to wait until just before the service to enter. The surrounding area was quite different from his end of town, where million-dollar homes were perched on the side of a mountain. He rather liked the warmth of character that radiated from the small, older homes, where mature trees and trailing red roses draped over the white picket fences. Small front porches had the welcome of a bygone era when life had been less harried and neighbors took time to visit.
Situated in a part of town that typified the average income of a blue-collar worker, the church had an old-world charm with brick and a steeple. He began to relax as he climbed the steps of the church. Along one side, an addition had been built to house what looked like a gym or banquet hall, but the architect had tastefully kept the original building intact and added a brick foundation to tie it all together. The double wooden doors, open to the breeze, created an inviting entry. After a warm handshake at the entrance by a perfect stranger and hug from a little old lady standing in the wings, Matt slid into a seat at the back of the church. As planned, his timing was perfect. He blended into the gathering crowd without a hitch.
His heart sank when he couldn’t find her. He tried to stretch above the congregation without bringing attention to himself. A dismal thought entered. What if he’d gone through all this trouble and she was absent? It hurt just to think of the possibility.
Then his eyes fell upon her. There she sat in the third row of the choir. A large man positioned himself in front of Matt creating a perfect set up. He could stay hidden, yet stare at her at leisure. He had to admit, she did look wonderful.
When they stood to sing, Matt could barely see her face peek out from the crowd. Thankfully, she’d put on some weight. That gaunt look was gone. He smiled.
The temptation to talk to her vanished. She was fine. He wished he could sneak out unnoticed. He had his answer. She was good, and he was losing it.
But why the angst? Why can’t I let go? This obsession has to stop. He felt a bead of sweat trickle beneath the curls on his temple, and he brushed the drop away.
The choir rose and the singers filed out one by one. Matt stretched to see one more glance of her before he snuck out the back. A large mound protruded from her midsection, and it took a moment for his mind to catch up to his eyes. Anna was very pregnant. His heart slammed inside his chest and thoughts tumbled chaotically over each other. Whose baby? Is it mine?
Of course, the baby was his. Anna was not the kind of woman to sleep around. The fact she had ventured outside the boundaries of her beliefs even for one night had clearly upset her. He could not forget the guilt etched on her face the morning after and the way she could not look him in the eye. She had feigned a headache and whisked him out the door.
The choir filed out from a side door and made their way to their seats. Anna floated down the aisle toward him. He’d never seen anyone radiate such beauty, she had that natural glow pregnant women so often carry. Her dark hair bounced free over her shoulders and flowed down her back. Fire ripped through his heart at the memory of it tangled beneath his fingers, and he had to will himself back into the present as she slid into the seat halfway down the sanctuary.
She was far enough along. Every moment, every day, of the last eight months had been grueling, and he didn’t have to do the math. Anna was carrying their baby. His baby. The thought jumped inside with a jolt of excitement … a baby. He was going to be a father. The gift this child would bring in connecting their lives together made his heart do back flips.
Had God allowed these circumstances in which to draw their lives together? He remembered his desperate prayer for an opportunity in which to win her love. Why did I feel so compelled to see her? Was this a coincidence or an answer to that long-forgotten prayer?
No, I can’t dismiss the facts. God did hear. And not only did he hear, but he presented the perfect opportunity. Matt felt a stir of something undefined touch his heart. He shifted in his seat and stretched his neck from side to side.
But why would she keep a thing like that from me?
Ahh, yes. I always told her my life was wrapped up in medicine, and considering our last conversation where she admitted she still loved Steven, she wouldn’t want to pressure me out of a sense of duty.
Matt’s heart rate settled into a steady rhythm. He imagined his conversation with Anna. He would reassure her that she didn’t have to raise their baby alone. Had he known, he would’ve been there all along. From experience, his last mistake reminded him to take it slow and respect whatever relationship she allowed.
With lots of time to think in the past eight months, Matt had concluded that when a spouse died, the surviving spouse couldn’t, nor shouldn’t
, turn off years of memories and love. He somehow needed to convey that he had no desire to remove Anna’s past, he just wanted to be part of her future. She could go on loving Steven for the rest of her life, as long as she could make room for the here and now.
Hope lit a candle in the pitch-black recesses of his soul and his heart. A world of possibilities flooded in.
Not a word of the sermon computed until the very end when the pastor called the congregation to pray. His ears perked. He wanted to know how to say a proper thank you to God for this huge miracle.
“Dear Lord Jesus, we come before you now and bring the sick and the needy.”
“Our dear Rose is in the hospital just days from meeting you, Jesus. Hold her close, oh Lord, and be with her family. To say good-bye to this dear soul will be difficult.
“We also bring Emily and Bill’s daughter Ruthie to you, Lord. You know, dear Father, how she has chosen to live far from your ways but how she is not far from your love. Please bring her home, dear Jesus, bring her home.”
Scattered amens sprinkled from all corners of the church spilled out.
“And, oh Jesus, lest we forget dear Anna. We cry out to you, Lord, in the name of Jesus and ask for the healthy delivery of Anna and Steven’s baby—”
Matt never heard a word after that. His blood ran cold, and a spike of anger rode his spine from top to bottom. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and he bit down so hard he could taste blood in his mouth. He rose from his seat and strode from the building in a rage. A blind fury made his world swim in darkness. He was not sure how he drove home, but there he sat in the garage unable to think straight. He slammed the dashboard with his fist.
How could she call herself a Christian and be so deceitful? There was not a chance in heaven or hell that the baby was Steven’s. He clenched his teeth and bit back a blast of fury. They both knew that Steven was physically incapable. Anna’s cover-up wouldn’t work with him.
He cursed. He hated Anna. He loved Anna. No, he hated the fact he loved her.
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