Southern Sympathies

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  Was it? She searched her memory, thinking that surely she could come up with another fact or two. Finally, indignant over having to defend the man she loved, Lydia shook her head in aggravation. “He’s a good man,” she argued. “He wants to court me. When was the last time you heard of a man wanting to court a woman? Alec Corbett might be from Wisconsin, but he’s got a manner about him that reminds me of an old-fashioned Southern gentleman.”

  “That tells me you know very little about him, my dear.” Reaching across the desk, Gerald picked up a piece of paper. “Here’s what a private investigator discovered.”

  Lydia stifled a gasp. “An investigator?”

  “That’s right.” He glanced at the report in his hand. “Let’s see. . .Alec Corbett was arrested not once, but twice. The first time it was for disorderly conduct, the second for driving under the influence.”

  “That had to be before he was saved.”

  “Regardless, it’s a reflection on his character.”

  “No, it’s the past. The Lord Jesus changed all that.”

  “Let me finish. Mr. Corbett has had three jobs in the last seven years—which spells instability. Furthermore, he’s cohabited with three different women outside the bonds of marriage. The first in 1984, the second in 1987, and the third in 1992.”

  Lydia began to feel sick.

  “That tells me he’s unable to commit to a lasting relationship. In fact, he was engaged to be married to a woman named Denise Lisinski. She broke it off just three short months ago.”

  “I know about Denise,” Lydia muttered.

  “Then you’re aware of why she broke the engagement?”

  “Yes. She changed her mind.”

  “Yes. . .but do you know why?”

  Lydia looked up into her father-in-law’s supremely satisfied face. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

  He gave her a patient smile. “Miss Lisinski told the investigator that Alec Corbett frightened her with his bad temper. She called him extremely possessive and said he wouldn’t allow her to see her friends.” Handing the piece of paper to Lydia, he added, “Read it for yourself. It would seem he’s got some psychological problems. I’ve seen the pattern before. Now, while he claims to know the Lord, I do not want him associated with my flock here at SPCC and I especially do not want him near my family. Think of the children, Lydia! Youngsters can rile even the most patient of men. What would happen if you married this veritable stranger and he lost his temper and hurt either Tyler or Brooke?”

  “He’d never do that,” she maintained, staring in disbelief at the sheet of paper in her hands. The typewritten words on the page were swimming before her rapidly filling eyes.

  “You can do better than a man like Alec Corbett, my dear.”

  Wounded beyond imagination, she stood and slowly walked to the door, unwilling that Gerald should see her cry.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said, halting her steps. Coming up behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. “Why don’t you and I go to your favorite restaurant in Charlotte this evening. We’ll get someone to watch the children. . .my treat.”

  “No, thank you.”

  He gently, but firmly turned her around and peered into her face. “I know it hurts, dear. But he’s not for you. Better to weep now and get him out of your system than marry him and live the rest of your life in utter misery.”

  “But—”

  Gerald put a finger to her lips. “Shh. . .no more argument,” he whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Father knows best.”

  She nodded slightly and returned to her desk, where she fought down her emotions and tried desperately to concentrate on her work. She thought about phoning Alec and questioning him, but she didn’t dare under her father-in-law’s watchful gaze. Then Sim entered the office just before Tyler and Brooke were dismissed from school.

  “Hello, Lydia,” he greeted, sounding chipper. He paused at her desk, leaning sideways, one elbow resting on its surface. “You look down in the dumps today. Everything all right?”

  “Just a bad day,” she said, trying not to cry again.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. What can I do to help?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing, but thank you anyway.”

  “Lydia, you must know by now how much I care about you.”

  “I appreciate that, Sim, but—”

  He walked around and entered her small work space. Kneeling by her chair, he took her hand. Lydia pulled away, glancing around the office nervously. She didn’t want to be the subject of the latest gossip—especially not with Sim.

  “I’m all right, really,” she tried to assure him.

  “Then I must tell you—I’m in love with you, my darling. I’ll do anything to make you mine.”

  For the first time in hours, Lydia smiled. Sim’s declaration sounded so melodramatic, it seemed funny.

  She quickly swallowed her amusement, however, in order to be polite. “You’re so kind to say that, but, I—”

  “Name it and it’s yours.”

  “Alec Corbett,” she replied wistfully.

  Sim frowned. “What?”

  Lydia shook her head. “Never mind. It was a bad joke on my part. Forgive me.” She stood and pushed her chair in under her desk. “Please excuse me, my children will be here shortly, and I’ve got to take them home.”

  Skirting her way around Sim, she left the office, leaving him there on his knees.

  Fifteen

  With Tyler and Brooke in bed for the night, the house was very quiet. Too quiet. Shivering, more so from stress than from the cold March temperature or the rain outside, Lydia wandered from room to room, straightening this, tidying that, and all the while thinking about Alec and wondering. One glance next door told her he hadn’t gotten home yet. He said sometimes he worked twelve- or fourteen-hour days Monday through Thursday and took Friday afternoons off. But obviously today wasn’t one of those Fridays. Unless, of course, he had other plans she didn’t know about.

  Still feeling chilled, Lydia made a fire in the fireplace and sat down before it, watching the flames leaping upward. She felt convinced her father-in-law had told her the truth today, and she longed to ask Alec about the investigator’s report, but she was scared. Suppose he was some kind of psychopath? What did she really know about him anyway?

  Suddenly spying her Bible on the end table, Lydia felt a sudden longing for God’s Word. Speak to me, Lord. Show me the truth.

  She looked up her reading for the day: 2 Corinthians 5. She’d been too harried this morning for devotions. She began at verse seventeen. “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” On the lower half of the page, in the commentary portion of her Bible, Lydia continued to read that the apostle Paul literally meant those in Christ were God’s new creations. Salvation brought on a changed lifestyle.

  Lydia felt like laughing! It was no coincidence that this passage was part of her Scripture reading for this day. Just that small bit of God’s Word had renewed her spirit.

  She read through the rest of the chapter before reverently setting aside her Bible. She found the cordless phone and Alec’s cellular number and placed the call.

  “Corbett here.”

  “Hi, Alec. You must be working late tonight.” Her casual air surprised even herself.

  “Yep, but I’m just about home. We finished the project, the client is ecstatic, our whole crew gets a bonus. Guess the long hours were worth it.” A pause. “Oh, hey. . .I didn’t forget, did I? Were we supposed to go out tonight?”

  “No.” Lydia sighed, hating what had to come next. “Can you stop over? I have to talk to you. It’s important.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “It is.”

  “Hmm. . .can you give me a hint?”

  Lydia paused to weigh the pros and cons—should she tell him or not? Finally, she decided to be direct. “My father-in-law hired an investigator who did a background
check on you.” When no immediate reply came forth, she wondered if they’d lost their connection. “Alec? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m pulling into my driveway. Give me a half hour to clean up, okay?”

  “Of course. . . .”

  He’d hung up before she’d barely finished the last word.

  Oh, Lord, I’m frightened. What if Alec does, indeed, have a nasty temper? What if he yells? What if he hates me for confronting him about his past?

  As if in reply, she recalled a verse in 1 John 4: “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.”

  “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear,” she said out loud, quoting one of her favorite promises from 2 Timothy, “but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

  Lydia sat back down in her chair by the fire and prayerfully waited. Almost exactly thirty minutes later, the doorbell chimed. She swallowed nervously, but determined to let him have his say.

  “Hi,” she said, opening the door and bidding him entrance.

  “Hi, yourself.” He walked into the hallway. “Where do you want to talk?”

  “Living room?”

  With a nod, Alec strode across the room and made himself comfortable on the couch. Clad in a red-checked flannel shirt, he reminded Lydia of a big, blond lumberjack.

  “Don’t you ever wear a coat?” she couldn’t help asking as she made her way toward him.

  He seemed momentarily surprised by the question. “Who needs a coat? It’s fifty-two degrees outside.”

  Giving him a hooded glance and a bit of a smile, she took the investigator’s report off the coffee table and handed it to him. Then she sat on the opposite end of the couch while he read it over.

  After a few minutes, he tossed it onto the cushion between them. He met her gaze, his expression revealing nothing. “What do you want me to say? It’s all true.”

  “Alec, I’ve prayed about this and God reminded me that everyone in Christ is a new creature. Old things are passed away. But I wondered if you’d mind explaining.”

  “I don’t mind, but it won’t exactly be easy. I’m not proud of my past, Lydia. I try very hard to forget it. And I’m not sure where to start, so why don’t you ask me some questions? What do want to know?”

  She lifted the sheet of paper. “The disorderly conduct charge?”

  “I was twenty-one and stupid. Got into a fight in a tavern over some woman.”

  “Driving while under the influence. . .?”

  “Yep. I was drunk as a skunk. I’m just glad I didn’t kill anyone. I think I was about twenty-five when that happened.”

  “And the women?” That of all things caused Lydia the most heartache.

  “Did I read it correctly? There were three listed on that report?”

  She nodded.

  He scratched his jaw pensively. “I think there were more.”

  “Oh, Alec. . .you think?”

  He shifted his weight, facing her directly. “Look, Lydia, I know my past is not pretty, but I’m a miracle of God’s grace. Christ died for sinful men—for me! And maybe now you’ll understand why I take courtship so seriously. While lost, I defiled myself, but I don’t intend on sinning against my Savior.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I see your point clearly.”

  “But I can ease your mind by telling you I don’t have any social diseases or HIV, and I haven’t fathered any children.”

  “Well,” she said, feeling a blush running up her neck at such a controversial topic of discussion. “I guess that’s something.” She fretted over her lower lip for several moments. “Alec, what about the things Denise said?”

  Looking puzzled, he took the report and reread it. “I didn’t see this the first time through,” he murmured. Then glancing back at her, he added, “But I guess now I know why she broke off our engagement. She never would tell me. If she would have said something, we could have discussed it. And, yeah, I got mad at her—plenty of times. She liked to go to a downtown nightclub with her friends after work every Thursday night—Ladies’ Night. Being a Christian woman, I didn’t think it was right for her to be in such a place, but Denise said she was a witness to her unsaved girlfriends at work and that even Jesus ate with sinners. I was quick to remind her that our Lord ate at the homes of sinners. He never entered a den of iniquity, and that’s what those nightclubs are. There’s sensual rock music playing; the booze is flowing; and there’s filthy men jeering at pretty women like Denise. I wanted her to stay out of there, but she wouldn’t. So, I sort of laid down the law with her, figuring I had the right since I was her fiancО. And if that makes me a possessive lunatic, then I guess I am.”

  “Sounds to me like you were just trying to protect her.”

  “I planned to marry the woman. Do you think I wanted her in a place like that week after week?”

  His heated reply caused Lydia to wonder if he wasn’t still in love with Denise. She watched as he raked a hand through his hair and stood. He walked to the window and stared out at the dark nighttime sky. Lydia felt like sobbing. Maybe Alec wasn’t the one for her. Maybe Gerald was right. Perhaps his jaded past would, indeed, prove to be far too great a contender.

  “With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible”—Jesus’ words from Matthew 19 rang in her heart in a divine reply, and Lydia knew He was telling her she could handle it. With the Lord’s help, she could. . .and she would!

  “I guess this is obstacle number three,” Alec said in a discouraged voice from his place at the window.

  “No, it’s not.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, before turning around. “What do you mean, it’s not?”

  She picked up the report and began tearing it into pieces. “You explained. I believe you. It’s over. Done. . .nothing’s left.” Standing to her feet, she walked to the fireplace and tossed in the slips of paper. “No obstacle.” She smiled.

  “Are you telling me you’re willing to overlook my past?”

  “Only if you’re willing to overlook mine.”

  He grinned. “Oh, right. What’s the worst thing you ever did?”

  “Um, let’s see. . .I stole a pack of gum from the grocery store when I was ten. I couldn’t even sleep that night because my conscience bothered me so much.”

  Alec feigned a gasp. “I’m shocked.”

  He lifted her chin. “It was as much of a sin as anything you ever did.”

  He just stood there, eyeing her carefully. “Lydia, if you’re serious, I don’t ever want you to bring up my past again. Not ever. You know things I never told Denise because I felt I wouldn’t grow spiritually, that I’d never get past the shame of that sinful life, if I had a wife reminding me of what a loser I used to be.”

  “I’ll never bring it up again,” Lydia promised. She tipped her head, considering him. “But. . .”

  “But?”

  She hesitated. Dare she even ask him the question foremost on her heart? Did she want to hear the answer?

  “Do you still love Denise?” she managed at last.

  Alec took a moment to consider his reply. “Sort of. . .do you still love Michael?”

  It was not the response she’d hoped for. In fact, it was the one she dreaded most. But she answered him in spite of her quivering chin. “That’s different. Michael’s in heaven. He can’t show up one day and take me away from you.”

  A grin spread across Alec’s face. “Denise isn’t ever going to take me away from you, either. But I loved her enough to ask her to be my wife, and those feelings don’t just disappear in three months.”

  With a sorrowful, audible sigh, Lydia turned and plopped down on the sofa. “Your past isn’t obstacle number three,” she stated forlornly. “Denise is.”

  Sixteen

  The following morning, Gerald stopped over. He seemed satisfied to find Lydia sufficiently depressed over the situation with Alec, although she didn’t divulge last night’s events. Then after tousling Tyler’s hair and giving Brooke a little
hug, he went merrily on his way, causing Lydia to feel even worse. How could he revel in her misery?

  Not much later, the doorbell rang and three giggling little girls sprang into the house. It was the day Lydia had promised her daughter she could invite a friend over, and one guest had quickly turned to three.

  Outside, it rained off and on while, inside, Lydia conducted a tea party with the girls, set up a board game for them, allowed them to watch a video and finally play with Brooke’s dolls. Tyler followed his mother around, grumbling about how stupid girls were, and she quickly decided she wasn’t going to please everyone today.

  Alec didn’t phone, much to her great disappointment. He’d left angry last night—obviously she’d struck a nerve. But Sherry called, and Lydia wound up pouring her heart out while she made supper and waited for the girls’ mothers to pick up their children.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Sherry cooed sympathetically. She paused, apparently in thought. “Say, why don’t y’all come here for a little holiday next weekend? The kids can see each other and we can talk and catch up on everything.”

  “I’d like that, but. . .I don’t know.” Lydia wondered how she’d get around her father-in-law. He’d surely discover if she disappeared for a whole weekend, and he wouldn’t stand for her visiting with the Smiths.

  “Let’s ask the Lord to make a way,” Sherry suggested. “How ’bout it?”

  “If the Lord makes a way,” she agreed on a discouraged note, “then, yes, we’ll come.”

  Soon Brooke’s friends’ parents arrived and took their little girls home. Lydia served dinner and forced herself not to glance next door.

  After supper, she cleaned up and the telephone rang. Drying her hands on a dish towel, she answered it, glad to hear Alec’s voice.

  “Were you planning on coming to the Bible study?” he asked in a somewhat brusque tone.

  “I don’t have a sitter,” she said, wishing she would have remembered and tried to find someone to stay with Tyler and Brooke.

  “I guess that’s a no, huh?”

  “It’s a no.”

  “Okay, then. See ya.”