by Terri Reed
After settling Aidan back down, Trista went to her room and readied herself for bed. But as she lay in her double bed alone, her thoughts became anxious about the upcoming meeting with Kevin. What did he want? After almost five months why would he want to talk?
She was so grateful that Scott had agreed to mediate. She trusted him and knew without a doubt that he would help her to keep perspective on the situation.
Only—she grimaced—she hadn’t told him all the gory details of her marriage. Of Kevin’s infidelity, of his controlling nature and the way she’d almost lost her identity to him over the years. Having Aidan was the only good point of that chapter in her life and her son had given her back her individuality.
She could only hope…she smiled in the dark, thinking that Scott would suggest she pray. Staring at the ceiling she quietly said, “God, I hope and pray that whatever happens tomorrow…”
She didn’t know what she hoped for. For Kevin to say he was moving to the other side of the world? For Kevin to say he realized what an idiot he’d been and he wanted her back?
No! She shivered. She didn’t want to go back to the life they’d had.
But if he’d changed?
“God, I’m so confused. If you are really there, please, please take the confusion away.”
Trista stood outside the sparkling white-and-redbrick eighteenth-century structure with the beautiful tall spire and bell tower. The Chestnut Grove Community Church was a landmark and every effort had been made to preserve the integrity of the building.
With snow blanketing the grounds and the sky overhead a powder blue, the church looked like a Currier and Ives Christmas card. A foreign sense of nostalgia gripped her. How could she miss something she’d never experienced?
She hesitated at the dark, wooden double doors with their antique handles and turn-of-the-century sconces on either side above the sidelight windows. But Scott was waiting and Kevin would arrive shortly, so she opened the door on the right and stepped through the opening. She told herself to be strong, to stay cool.
The inside of the church was as quaint and charming as the outside with dark wood and red carpet runners. The scent of vanilla teased her nose. As she passed a candelabra she discovered the soothing scent. She thought she’d feel like a trespasser but strangely she didn’t.
She found her way to the church office. The receptionist buzzed Scott and a moment later he came striding down the hall, looking handsome in a dark suit and red tie. His blond hair was swept back and his strong jaw smooth.
Trista’s heart did a little hiccup of welcome. “I know I’m a bit early, but I wanted to arrive first.”
“No problem,” he said easily and led her past an office with his name on the door. He escorted her to a small conference room that had a round table with three chairs, a box of Kleenex and a water dispenser in the corner.
Pictures of the Virginia Mountains graced walls and windows that looked out onto the historic graveyard in the back of the church brightened the austere space.
Trista took the seat closest to the window. “I’ve always thought it a bit creepy to have a graveyard so close to a church.”
“Many of Chestnut Grove’s prominent citizens are buried in that cemetery.”
“Oh, so there might be a wealth of buried secrets here?” she teased.
“You don’t know how close you are to the truth,” Scott said. “Barnaby Harcourt kept a lot of people’s secrets in this town.”
“I know. Ross is determined to uncover them all and it scares me. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
“He’s an ex-cop right?”
She nodded and a knot in the pit of her stomach formed. “Those were scary years. But being a private investigator seems to have its danger, too.”
“I’m sure he’ll be careful.”
Trista looked at her watch. Kevin was twenty minutes late. Typical. Irritation bound the knot in her gut tighter. Whenever he was supposed to do something important with her, he had always been late.
“Do you think you should call him?”
She shook her head. “No. He’s never been punctual. That was one of the things that really irritated me. He never respects other people’s time. He’ll come blowing in here as if nothing was wrong and wonder why I’m mad.”
There was empathy in his eyes. “Have you two tried counseling before?”
“No. I suggested it and would have gladly gone, but Kevin always scoffed at it. That’s why I was so surprised when he agreed to meet here with you.”
“Maybe he’s changed. People tend to realize what they’ve lost once it’s gone.”
She turned away from his earnestness to stare out the window. “Maybe.”
She didn’t want Scott to see how upsetting and confusing she found that thought to be. “For Aidan’s sake I hope you’re right.” Though she couldn’t see herself getting back together with Kevin, it would be nice if Kevin wanted to be a part of Aidan’s life.
“When was the last time Kevin saw Aidan?”
“The day he walked out on us, six months ago.” The hurt and anger of that day still throbbed in her chest.
Scott frowned. “He hasn’t come to see his son?”
Her mouth twisted with disgust. “He thought parenthood would cramp his style. He wasn’t happy when I got pregnant.” He’d been livid, in fact. Ranting and raving, demanding to know how she could do this to him, as if she’d poisoned him or something.
“What about his family?”
She shrugged. “His mother came to see Aidan when we were in the hospital. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes aren’t the affectionate type. Since that one visit, I haven’t heard from them at all.” And she probably wouldn’t. They’d never thought her good enough to be a Hughes.
“Have you made the effort?”
Her hackles rose. “Why should I?”
The gentle expression on Scott’s face melted her anger. “They may be waiting for you to contact them. A bridge can’t be formed if neither side is willing. Sometimes being the bridge builder is what’s required.”
“Bridge builder.” She tried to think that through. Were the Hughes waiting for her to reach out to them? “I don’t know if I can. My marriage to their son failed. Why would they want to hear from me?”
“You have their grandson. I’ll bet you’d be surprised.”
“I’ll think about it.” It would be good for Aidan to have grandparents. Maybe they’d be better grandparents than parents. She wouldn’t get a chance to find out if her own mother would be a better grandparent. She glanced at her watch again. Kevin was an hour late. Annoyance crept up her neck, she could feel her blood pressure rising. “He’s not going to show. I should’ve known.”
“Can you call him?”
She blew out a frustrated breath and dug out her cell phone. She punched in Kevin’s cell number. His voice mail picked up. She left a quick, terse message, then hung up.
As she hung up, Scott said, his voice soft, “I’m sorry for your disappointment.”
She gave him a startled glance. “I’m not. I mean, I’m annoyed as all get out and kicking myself for thinking he’d do as he said. But I’m not disappointed.”
“You’re not?”
“No.” She didn’t want to explain that any love she’d had for Kevin had died long ago. She’d only agreed to meet with Kevin for Aidan’s sake. She rose. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
Scott stood and placed a hand on her arm. “I could never think of spending time with you a waste.”
The weight of his hand and the meaning of his words wrapped around her like a warm breeze. Why couldn’t she have chosen someone like Scott?
He was everything she’d longed for. Stable, honorable, secure. A man who wouldn’t be unfaithful, a man who would cherish his wife and son.
But she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She had to get her life under control and make a secure life for Aidan.
She stepped back. “I should go.”
“It’
s lunchtime. How about I buy you a hot dog?”
Swallowing down the urge to say yes, she shook her head. “I should get back to the office.”
Scott nodded and led her back to the main hall.
“We can reschedule with Kevin,” he said.
“That won’t be necessary.” Seeing the doubt in Scott’s eyes, she confessed, “I asked God to take away my confusion over Kevin. I think being stood up again by him has made it clear to me that he won’t change. Kevin’s priority will always be Kevin.”
“You should give him the benefit of the doubt. He could be stuck in traffic, his cell could have died or be in a blank spot. He could have had an accident.”
“You’re sweet,” she commented, touched by his concern and his eagerness to look for the best in a person. “I’ve been down this road before. I used to twist myself in knots worrying that something had happened to him every time he was late or didn’t show. And it wasn’t that he lost track of time like an absentminded person, he just didn’t care. His word meant nothing. He hasn’t changed.”
“Don’t make a judgment until you’ve heard him out,” Scott advised.
Trista didn’t want to belabor the point, so she nodded. “I’ll do my best. Again, thank you for your time.”
“I hope you’ll come back. I really look forward to getting to know you better.”
The longing in his eyes brought her breath to a halt and a corresponding longing flooded through her. The attraction she’d been fighting sparked and charged the air between them. He took a half step forward and then hesitated, as if suddenly realizing he’d moved. The cords in his neck tensed as he swallowed.
“I should get back to work,” he said abruptly and walked away.
Bemused by his sudden departure, she stared after him. He’d felt the attraction, too. But he’d turned away from it, from her. She should be glad. She didn’t want to ruin the budding friendship they were building with something that could never be. No matter how much she might secretly wish otherwise. A friendship was one thing but a romance was not something she was looking for.
Taking a deep cleansing breath, she headed toward the foyer. The double doors leading to the sanctuary had been closed when she’d first arrived and now stood open as if welcoming her inside.
She stepped to the threshold, her gaze taking in the simple elegance of the beautifully aged wooden pews, the stunning Tiffany stained glass lining the tops of the arched windows and the wooden pulpit at the front of the sanctuary. Candelabras flanked the sides of the altar, along with huge bouquets of flowers.
Compelled for reasons she didn’t understand, she crossed the threshold and walked slowly down the aisle. The peaceful quiet of the sanctuary soothed her soul. She paused at the foot of the altar, confused about what to do. Why had she come in here?
She’d asked a question of Called2serve. That question came back to her now, as did the answer.
How do I ask Him?
There’s nothing complicated about it, even though we’d like to think there is. Open your heart and mind to Him. Ask Him silently or aloud to show you His love, to come into your life.
Scott had said, Give Him the past and trust Him with your future.
Could she do those things? Her brother put so much importance on his faith. He’d found a peace she longed for. Was the same really available to her? After the nightmare of her childhood and the awful ways she’d tried to mask the pain, could God accept her and love her?
Her heart thumped in her chest. As scared as she was to be rejected, she had to ask. She glanced around, verifying she was alone. Slowly she bowed her head and whispered, “Lord, I don’t know if you’re listening, but I want you in my life. I want what I see in Ross and Kelly. And Scott.”
An image of her mother as she remembered her from childhood rose, along with familiar anger followed closely by the pity she now felt at the deteriorated state her mother was currently in. “How do I forgive her? How do I let go of the past?”
The sound of the outer doors opening distracted her. Her heart jumped with dread as she turned, expecting to see Kevin finally arriving. Relief weakened her knees. It wasn’t Kevin walking into the sanctuary, but an older woman with red hair and kind eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” the woman said.
Trista gave her a small embarrassed smile. “That’s okay. I was just leaving.”
As she left the church behind, she resigned herself to not receiving an answer to her questions.
Scott stepped out of the shadows of the foyer and watched Trista peel out of the parking lot as if she’d stolen something. He hurt for her, for the pain she tried so hard to deny, but was visible in her eyes.
She may have said she was over her ex-husband, but the pain he’d caused her hadn’t left.
Scott tried to be charitable in his thoughts about Kevin Hughes, but he was struggling. How could the man have walked away from Trista and Aidan? How could he play such cruel games with her now?
Reminding himself he’d only heard one side of the story and an incomplete account at that, he turned away from the sight of Trista’s fleeing car and found himself facing Naomi.
“She’s hurting,” she stated.
It always amazed him how easily she read people. “Yes, she is. And I’m not sure I can help her.”
Naomi gave him a sage nod. “You can. Trust yourself and trust God.”
That was advice he’d given out before, but being on the receiving end felt odd and disquieting. Maybe because of the subject of his doubts? He didn’t know how to help Trista while at the same time not letting himself fall for her. There had been a moment earlier when he’d wanted so badly to take her in his arms and soothe the wounds that she so clearly carried.
But giving in to the attraction he felt wouldn’t help either of them. She needed his friendship and guidance. And he wasn’t looking for a relationship.
No. He had to stay focused on what the Lord would have him do. He had to help her process her pain and lead her to a better understanding of God’s love.
And he had to keep his own emotions under wrap.
Lynda stared at the picture blazoned across the society section of the Chestnut Grove Gazette of her husband and a buxom brunette, their heads close together like lovers. Her stomach roiled with anger and hurt as she read the accompanying article written by a reporter named Lori Sumner.
When asked about the relationship with the woman pictured above, Douglas Matthews laughed. “Just one of my adoring fans.” He once again waved away rumors of a shaky marriage and stated, “My wife and son are the most important things to me.”
Things! That’s how he saw them. His possessions.
And the woman? Just a fan? Hardly.
She was the same woman Lynda had seen Douglas with once before when he’d thought she and Logan were still out of town. They’d come home early because Logan hadn’t felt well. As they’d turned down their street, Douglas and this woman had been coming out of her house.
Correction. Douglas’s house.
Lynda slapped the paper onto the kitchen table, startling Logan from his cereal. She winced. “Sorry, dear. Hurry up now or you’ll be late for school.”
She grabbed the paper so her son wouldn’t see the picture, though she was sure he’d hear about it at school. Like always. It pained her to have to send him out into the cruel world where his father’s actions were a source of fodder for gossip. She would try to prepare him in the car on the way to school.
She took the paper and moved to throw it in the garbage bin.
“What are you doing?”
Douglas’s growled question stopped her cold. Slowly, she turned, her fingers squeezing tight around the paper, crumpling it.
Douglas stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his hands on his hips. The black slacks and bright blue dress shirt made especially for his frame were expensive and trendy, but did little to hide the slight roll of excess fat around his middle. Satisfaction unfurled in her be
lly. His indulgent lifestyle was starting to show. Petty, she knew but she’d take any small measure of satisfaction.
She shifted her gaze to his face. The hard line of his jaw and the coldness of his blue eyes sent ripples of apprehension over her skin. She fought the sensation, trying hard not to let her fear or her hatred show. She’d made that mistake once and had paid dearly for it.
“Logan, run along now and put your shoes on,” she said, her voice sounding too high and strained.
Logan slid from his chair, ducked his head and skirted around his father, who ignored him, before racing up the stairs.
“I asked you a question,” Douglas stated and stepped toward her.
She backed up against the counter, desperately wishing it wasn’t the housekeeper’s day off. Then at least she’d have a buffer, because Douglas would never cause a commotion in front of anyone for fear of a witness.
His precious TV talk show was too important to him for him to take chances that someone could testify that he abused his wife.
“I was just getting Logan his breakfast,” she said.
He strode forward and grabbed her wrist. “You were going to throw the paper out before I even had a chance to read it.”
She didn’t respond as he took the paper and moved to sit at the table. He spread out the wrinkles and stared at his picture. He snorted. “Dumb, dumb, dumb.”
She didn’t know if he meant himself or the reporter’s article.
She thought of Trista and tried to imagine what she would do. Who was she kidding? Trista was a strong woman, Lynda was just Lynda.
“Did you think you could hide this picture from me?” He slanted her a hard glance. “You know I collect all my press.” He rose.
Lynda gripped the edge of the counter and ducked her head. “I didn’t want Logan to see it.”
“You coddle him too much. He needs to grow up. The world is what it is. Fame and fortune come at a price.”
“I pay it,” she muttered, the words escaping before she could stop them.
He grabbed her arm in a painful grip. “What did you say?”
