Don’t.
Again the command resonated in his heart. Brett laid the flowers on the counter and dug a vase out of the cabinet then retrieved a pair of scissors from the junk drawer.
“OK, Lord, I don’t know what You’re trying to show me here,” he mumbled. His voice sounded strange even to his own ears. He dropped an aspirin into the vase and filled it with water then trimmed each stem with meticulous precision before placing them in the container. Oddly, the chore soothed the turbulent emotions in his heart and mind. He placed the arrangement on the windowsill, cleaned up the snips of flower stalk and petals that had fallen, and then wiped the counter and table with a clean, damp dishcloth.
Afterward, he dug around in the refrigerator and made a sandwich then poured a huge glass of milk and sat at the table. Alone.
The clock on the wall struck midnight. He rinsed his dishes and placed them in the sink, unloaded his gym bag, took a shower, and then crawled into bed.
Alone.
The next morning he arose, stumbled into the kitchen, and poured a cup of coffee. The cold, bitter brew tasted like ashes. Yesterday’s coffee, he realized. He cursed and dumped the contents into the sink. In the moments it took Brett to empty and rinse the coffee pot and filter container, he recognized he was way out of his league.
He had no clue how to make a pot of coffee.
“Can’t be that hard,” he muttered.
The silence mocked him.
He cursed again and then filled the pot half full of water and poured it into the reservoir. He dug around in the cabinets and pantry until he found the filters, then searched the contents of every canister until he uncovered the coffee. A deep, appreciative whiff of the fragrant grounds gave him the courage to scoop some and place them in the filter. He snapped the filter basket closed and hit the button to turn on the machine. Within moments, the aroma of fresh brewed java filled the air. He pumped his fist in triumph and poured a cup the minute the contraption stopped gurgling liquid into the pot. He eyed the thick fluid, sniffed and felt a quick jolt of alarm. He took a cautious sip.
It tasted like sludge.
Brett shuddered and, once again dumped the contents of his cup into the sink. A steady stream of curses flowed through the house as he stomped into the bedroom, tugged on clothes and shoes, and threw things into his gym bag.
He left the house and stopped at the first coffee shop he spotted, slammed out of the truck, and trudged inside. Grateful there wasn’t a long line of desperate coffee drinkers ahead of him, he waited. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Brett turned and came face to face with his coach.
“Morning.”
“Hi, Coach.”
“Why so glum?”
Brett shook his head. “No coffee yet this morning.”
A flash of disbelief clouded the coach’s eyes.
“Is that all?”
The line moved, conversation halted. Brett stepped up to the counter and ordered his coffee. “And whatever my friend here wants,” he told the perky blonde and stepped aside to wait for coach to order. Once they received the drinks, the two moved off to a booth in a corner of the dining area.
Seated, coach took a sip of the hot brew then put down the cup. “Brett, I try to help my players in any way possible. If you need advice or just an ear, I’m always available.”
Brett knew coach was a deeply spiritual man. He sipped his double espresso mocha latte and sighed. Part pleasure, part frustration. “Why is it when one part of your life seems to look up, another starts falling apart?”
When coach remained silent, Brett took another sip. “Wife walked out last night. No note, nothing.”
“Y’all have a spat?”
“Marriage hasn’t been all that great from the beginning. My fault, I know, but I can’t seem to get a handle on my anger and disappointment for having to get married in the first place.”
Coach’s eyebrow shot up in question.
Brett leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Typical jock/cheerleader scenario—she got pregnant, yada, yada, yada. Guess the strain is just too much to bear anymore.”
“Have you spoken to her since last night?”
Brett shook his head. “That’s just it, I don’t know whether to feel guilty or relieved now that she has left.”
A flash of sympathy lit Coach’s gaze. Brett waited while the man sipped his coffee, anticipating his advice. Or judgment.
Coach put down the cup, smiled. “Anger and disappointment have a way of obscuring our blessings. My advice is to not make any rash decisions and to use this separation as a time of personal and spiritual growth.” He glanced at his watch, rose. “Guess I’ll see you at practice this afternoon.”
Brett nodded. “Thanks, Coach.”
When the man had exited the coffee shop, Brett ordered another coffee and a bran muffin, polished off the snack and then left for the gym.
****
Sandi slid into a booth at the local burger joint and waited for her best friend of a lifetime to arrive. Although distant cousins, the two women shared a bond most sisters didn’t enjoy. It was as though God had created one spirit, carved it in half, and sent them into the world separate, yet together. He then doubly blessed them by placing them amongst blood relatives who lived in the same town.
Born three days apart, Karla and Sandi had attended the same school, occupied the same class rooms while growing up, and went to the same college for similar degrees. Sandi’s education was cut short by pregnancy. Karla obtained her degree in Graphic Design and now owned and operated her own freelance business in that field.
Sandi smiled and stood as the slim, dark haired, dark eyed beauty walked through the door. Karla enfolded Sandi in a hug so strong that she thought she’d never catch her breath. They sat.
Karla reached out her hand. “So what’s going on now?”
Sandi blinked back tears. “Same old thing. Brett’s more interested in football than his family. Although he did bring me roses last night.”
“Really?”
Karla’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Sandi. She nodded. “Yeah, he handed me a beautiful bouquet of mixed roses, right before telling me that he married me out of obligation and felt like we were just going through the motions of life as a couple.”
Karla’s eyes narrowed, hand knotted into a fist on the table. “Did you shove them up his…” she bit off the comment, visibly struggled against saying more then rolled her eyes heavenward with a remorseful sigh.
“I’m sorry, Lord. He just makes me so angry! So, what did you do with the roses?”
“They’re probably still lying on the table where I put them before I left.”
Karla’s eyebrow arched in surprise. “You left him?”
Tears pricked her eyes again. Sandi blinked them back. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Karla. He did say he loves us...”
“But?”
Sandi shrugged. “But according to him, the timing is all wrong.”
Karla snorted. “He should have thought of all that before he pursued you so ardently. I swear, with guys it’s all about the chase!”
Sandi sighed. “Don’t blame it all on him. I didn’t run too hard or fast. I never understood what he saw in me anyway.”
“Don’t you dare give me that! You’re beautiful and smart.” Karla’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think he has been, or is being unfaithful?”
Sandi thought a moment then shook her head. “As far as I know, he hasn’t.”
“But you can’t be completely sure he isn’t. He’s always been surrounded by women, had his pick of the litter, so to speak.”
Sandi sighed. “I’d like to think he has more respect for me, and himself, than to do something like that. If you could call football a mistress, then I’d definitely say he’s unfaithful. He works all day and spends most of the evenings and weekends at the gym or at football practice.”
“Anything that comes between a man and his wife and family is deserving of the title a
s far as I’m concerned. I’m glad you left. Let him fend for himself a while. He’ll figure out soon enough what he’s missing.”
Tears welled up in Sandi’s eyes again, spilled over, and the deepest fears in her soul poured forth to the one person she knew would understand. “That’s just it. What if he doesn’t miss us? What if he’d rather be alone than with Candie and me, or someone else comes along who does nothing but stroke his ego? What am I going to do then? How can I compete with that?”
Empathy lit Karla’s dark eyes. She reached for Sandi’s hand.
Sandi sniffed. Her voice lowered to a helpless whisper. “I love him. Why doesn’t he love me, Karla? What am I lacking? Why aren’t I good enough?”
“I hate what’s happened to you! You’re beautiful and talented and smart, yet you’ve wrapped yourself so tightly around him that you have no self-esteem or confidence left. I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to work on healing your life, your soul, and your self-image. And you’re going to finish your degree. If Brett Edwards is God’s gift to you and not your gift to yourself, he’ll come back, and you two will be stronger than ever. If not, you’re better off without him.”
Sandi’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket. Brett’s name flashed on the screen. Before she could answer, Karla jerked it out of her hand and sent the call straight to voice mail.
“What’d you do that for?”
A sneer curled Karla’s lip. “You haven’t even been gone forty eight hours. Let him wonder where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re with.”
Sandi shook her head. “You forget we have a child together. I at least need to let him know she is OK.”
She locked gazes with her cousin. “I know you’re angry with him for what you feel is a gross injustice on my behalf, but it takes two to tango, Karls.
“I love you for your loyalty and, you are right, I do need to rebuild my life so it is not centered on Brett and his dreams. I’m counting on you to help me do that. But understand he will always be a part of my life, even if only as Candie’s father. I owe him the respect he deserves for that at least. Your anger may be justified, but petty vengeance is not.”
Karla had the grace to look sheepish, and guilty. She handed the phone back to Sandi. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Sandi took the phone, gave Karla’s hand a squeeze then returned Brett’s call. He answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Sorry I missed your call.”
“Where are you?”
“I decided to spend the weekend with my family.”
“So you’ll be back sometime tonight?”
Sandi’s heart fluttered at the glum tone. “Is that what you want, Brett? Last night you said you felt like we’ve just been going through the motions and you married me out of obligation. Are you telling me you don’t feel that way now?”
His sigh spoke volumes. Her heart plummeted. “You said it’s time for some honesty between us. Be honest with me now. Do you want me and our daughter to come home?”
He hesitated and Sandy imagined him, head down, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and/or fiddling with his cap, as he did when pushed for an answer he didn’t have or wasn’t ready to give. A heavy sigh preceded his words.
“I didn’t ask you to leave, but as long as you have, maybe we should take some time apart and figure out where we’re at, where we’re going, and what we want out of life and our relationship.”
Her sharp intake of breath lodged in her chest like a tight fist around her heart. “Fine. I’ll come by Monday while you’re at work and pick up a few things for Candie and me.”
She disconnected the call before he could respond, then buried her face in her hands, unable to stem the tears this time. She heard Karla slide out of her side of the booth and welcomed the strong embrace as sobs tore from her in painful torrents. “He doesn’t want us back,” she mumbled.
“What exactly did he say?”
“He said since I decided to leave him maybe we should take some time apart and figure out what we want out of life and our relationship.”
“Blaming it all on you, I see.” Karla snarled.
Sandi raised tear drenched eyes to her cousin’s. “What do I do now?”
Karla hugged her tighter. “You do exactly as you told him. Pick up a few things on Monday, move in with me, and then we’ll see about getting you enrolled for the upcoming semester and working toward that degree.”
“I don’t want to impose, Karls.”
Karla snorted. “If it were an imposition, I wouldn’t offer.” She smiled. “It’ll be nice to have you there until you get on your feet.”
Sandi rested her head against Karla’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Karla brushed her lips over Sandi’s forehead and hugged her again. “You would be just fine without me, but I’m glad I’m here. We’ll get through this. Brett Edwards doesn’t know what he’s up against. When we’re done transforming you, he’ll either come crawling back on bended knee or suffer his loss the rest of his life.”
Sandi chuckled despite the tears that clogged her throat. “Is it wrong for me to want him to come crawling back? I really can’t imagine my life without him in it.”
“As you stated, he’ll always be a part of your life. But you need to be a whole person before you can be half a couple. And that’s what we’re going to work on. I don’t know what happened over the years to make you feel so inadequate and unworthy, but we’re going to find out and fix that,” Karla promised.
For the moment, Sandi believed it possible.
****
Brett rubbed his eyes and twiddled with his baseball cap. He cleared his throat and tried to banish the guilt already clouding his decision. True he’d made a mess of things, but the coach’s words had rung in his ears all day yesterday, kept him awake most of the night. Maybe it was time for him to focus on personal and spiritual growth, and he knew he couldn’t do that with his wife and daughter here.
Not if you spend every moment away from home because they’re here.
Unsure whether the voice was his conscious or that of the Lord, Brett knew truth when he heard it. He made a sandwich, heated a can of soup and then washed his few dishes and put them away.
The next morning, Brett prepared the coffee pot using half the amount of grounds he’d scooped the day before. Though better, the brew was still stronger than he liked. He finished off the cup and cut the next one with hot water. Better, he thought and added hot water to the remaining coffee in the carafe then placed it back on the hot plate to keep warm. He polished off the remainder of the pot while reading the morning paper.
Since coach honored Sunday as the Lord’s Day, there would be no practice, so Brett decided to go to the gym. He could get in a good workout. He dug around in his dresser for clothes to wear then realized he was once again at a disadvantage.
Everything was dirty, and he had no idea how to operate the washing machine or dryer.
“Can’t be that hard,” he muttered and carried the items into the laundry room where he stood a full minute, mouth hanging open, and glared at the machines.
Small, Large, or Super-size load? Hot/Hot, Cold/Cold, Hot/Cold water temperature? Gentle or Normal cycle?
He dropped the clothes on the floor with a curse, kicked the pile across the room and strode out. The words ‘personal growth’ mocked his every step. He plopped down into a chair in the living room and pondered his options…. Call one of his buddies, call his mother, or call and beg Sandi to come back?
None appealed to him.
“Think, Brett,” he ordered himself, tapping the heel of his hand against his temple for emphasis. His phone rang. Joe’s number flashed on the screen. Brett answered.
“Hey, Brett, want to meet down at the gym?”
Brett groaned. “Man I was just thinking the same thing. Need to do up some laundry first, though.”
This time Joe gr
oaned. “Laundry is top on my list of crappy jobs.”
“Tell me about it,” Brett moaned.
Joe chuckled. “It’s funny now, but I’ll never forget my first attempt. After my mom died, Dad and I split up the household chores. Laundry was one of mine. I was clueless. Pink underwear just don’t cut it in the junior high locker room.”
Brett laughed along with Joe.
“So what did you do then?” he asked, hoping Joe wouldn’t guess he was hanging onto the man’s every word.
“I asked the Home Ec’ teacher, and she taught me all about sorting the clothes and washing whites in hot, colors in cold. In fact, I still have her hand-written notes in my yearbook.” His tone sobered. “That was one tough year, but me and Dad, we pulled through.”
Brett’s heart went out to his friend. “Never knew that, Joe. Sorry for your loss. Hey let’s meet at the gym in a couple of hours.”
Joe agreed and they rang off. Brett, picked up the clothes he’d kicked into every corner and separated them into two piles. Gaging the size of the loads to be medium, he set the temperature to cold/cold, measured out a capful of detergent according to the directions and threw the color load on to wash. Two hours later he left the house feeling as though he could accomplish anything. He’d managed to wash and dry both loads without turning anything pink or catching the house on fire.
Folding would have to wait though, and there was no way on earth he’d even attempt to iron anything. He dropped his work attire at the nearest dry cleaners to be starched and pressed.
****
Sandi walked around her and Brett’s apartment and double-checked the list of items she’d packed. Emptiness swarmed around her, engulfed, overwhelmed. She sat on the bed and cried another bucket load. In the last two days, she’d shed more tears than a body ought to be able to produce. Karla’s voice rose in her mind….
Pack your stuff and get out of there before guilt convinces you to stay!
Still, she hesitated and walked through each room filling it with tears and prayers. Exhausted, she lay on her marriage bed. “Oh, God, let no man put asunder what You have joined together. Not even Brett or me. I know I need to do this right now, but I’m asking You, in Jesus’ name to put a hedge of protection around our hearts against anyone or anything that would dare to totally destroy what we’ve built.”
Love in Season Page 5
