“Your father-in-law drives an awful fancy car—not that I begrudge pastors any luxuries. It’s just that when I saw him pulling into your driveway last weekend, it made me all the more suspicious, considering the allegations against him.”
“Yes, I know. . . .” Lydia mentally pictured the grand house in which her in-laws resided. She had always thought they’d deserved the “blessing” for being such servants of God, but now she, too, felt suspicious—and it troubled her deeply.
It was almost nine o’clock when Alec found his way to the Smiths’ new house west of Nashville. It was located in an elevated subdivision and they drove up a long, winding road whose elevation caused their ears to pop. After they’d parked, Sherry was the first to greet them. Tall and shapely, she had curly honey blond hair that hung slightly past her shoulders.
“Lydia, you sweet thing!” she cried, with outstretched arms.
They embraced before Sherry pulled back, and Lydia found herself looking up into her dear friend’s freckled face.
“I’m so sorry, Lyd, will you ever forgive me for shunning you? I swear I hurt myself more than I hurt you.”
Tears gathered in Lydia’s eyes. “I already forgave you.” She sniffed.
Sherry’s gaze grew misty as well. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“I’m so glad to see you, too.”
They embraced again as Jordan Smith walked out of the house. “With these two blubbering over each other,” he said to Alec, “I guess we’re on our own.” He stuck out his right hand and introduced himself just before his three children bounded out the door. All at once there were five little ones squealing happily in the driveway.
“C’mon, Ty, I’ll show you my room,” Matt said. He was dark-headed like his father and beneath the yard light, Lydia smiled at the excitement in his brown eyes. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you the tree house Daddy built. No girls allowed.”
“Cool!” Tyler replied.
The boys took off in a flash with the girls laughingly chasing after them.
“Why don’t y’all come on inside?” Jordan invited. “And, Alec, let me help you with the luggage.”
With her arm around Lydia’s shoulders, Sherry ushered her into the living room.
“So what do you think about Alec?” Lydia whispered. “I want your first impression.”
“He’s quite tall.”
Lydia tossed a maroon throw pillow at her friend. “You’re so observant.”
Sherry laughed and tossed it back.
“And here they are,” Jordan said facetiously, “taking out the living room already.” He shook his dark head and walked in with Alec right behind him. “You two are worse than the kids.”
Lydia glanced at Alec, who sent her an affectionate wink before lowering himself into a mauve swivel rocker. Lydia remembered when the Smiths bought this living room ensemble, couch and two chairs, glass-top coffee table and matching end tables. And she recalled vividly just how excited Sherry had been the day it arrived. It was just before Michael died.
She gazed at Sherry, then Jordan, and back to Sherry once more. “You two are a sight for sore eyes, do you know that?” Her throat constricted with unshed emotion.
“So are you.”
“Oh, will you two knock it off,” Jordan muttered irritably.
“I see he hasn’t changed a bit,” Lydia told Sherry.
Sherry, in turn, looked at Alec. “My husband has no patience for female sensibilities,” she explained. “But I hope you do. Lydia and I can cry at the drop of a hat, can’t we, honey?”
Jordan’s expression was oblique as he faced Alec. “Do y’all play Ping-Pong? I’ve got a table set up in the rec room. How ’bout a game?”
“You’re on.” Alec seemed relieved. Standing, he crossed the room, trailing Jordan.
“Oh, Sherry, you scared him off,” Lydia said in mild rebuff. “We’ve only known each other a month.”
“If he scares that easily,” she drawled in reply, “then he ain’t a man worth having. Besides, if Tyler hasn’t spooked him by now, chances are he’s a keeper.”
They laughed together.
“You’ve changed,” Sherry said at last.
“I have?”
“Uh-huh. You look. . .happy again.”
“I feel happy again,” Lydia admitted.
“I’m so glad. Come on,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’ll show y’all around the rest of the house. I just love it here!”
Lydia stood and as she toured her good friend’s nicely decorated home, she recognized objects that had once hung on the walls of a different house, in a different state. So familiar and yet strange in their new environment that they might as well have been brand new, and suddenly Lydia was reminded of herself. Things around her had changed dramatically. She looked the same on the outside, but she could hardly claim to be the person she’d been a month ago. She was finally back among the living.
And it was all because the Lord had brought Alec Corbett into her life.
Nineteen
“You’re awfully quiet,” Alec remarked during the drive homeward late Sunday night.
“Just thinking.”
“Did you have a nice weekend?”
Lydia smiled. “Very nice.” From the passenger seat, she glanced over her shoulder into the back, where Tyler and Brooke slept peacefully. “How about you? Did you enjoy meeting the Smiths?”
“Yeah. Nice people.”
“And you really didn’t mind bunking down in the family room with two rambunctious boys?” Lydia couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
“Some.” The lights from the highway illuminated his rugged features and Lydia saw the smirk on his face. “Tyler and Matt sure like to talk.”
“You’ve been a good sport, Alec. And you’re very patient with children.”
“Kids never bothered me. But it seemed Jordan got a little hot under the collar a few times.”
“Yes, he has a habit of raising his voice when the children play too loudly. It used to really upset Tyler, but I think in time he grew accustomed to it.”
“I remember the first day I met your kids. They asked if I was going to holler at them for standing on the fence.” Alec chuckled. “Must have been what Jordan used to do.”
“It was.”
Alec laughed again. “But the highlight of the weekend was hearing all about you from Sherry.”
“I already told you, she exaggerates,” Lydia stated with a bit of a huff. She’d like to get even with her longtime friend for sharing those silly stories—like the time they were both expecting babies and Lydia locked herself out of the house after grocery shopping. Sherry came up with the brilliant notion to climb through the window, but in their conditions neither fit. Nevertheless, Sherry had to try and managed to get herself good and stuck. That was when the Woodruff police were called. . .
“The tales I heard,” Alec said amusedly, “sounded more like I Love Lucy reruns.”
“Oh, hush,” Lydia replied in mild rebuff, but she laughed softly in spite of herself.
She thought this weekend had been a wonderful blessing. She and Alec had gotten to know more about each other. And he had been a perfect gentleman the whole time—even Sherry commented on it. Somehow her friend’s approval affirmed in her heart that God truly had His hand on her relationship with Alec.
“Did the dinner conversation tonight upset you?” he asked, drawing her from her reverie.
Lydia thought it over. The topic had been her father-in-law. “Yes, it upset me,” she admitted. “I feel betrayed.”
“So you believe the Smiths and your mother?”
Lydia nodded as a vision of her father-in-law handling her roughly in the minivan last Monday flittered through her mind. “I’m convinced Gerald enjoys controlling others, and for so long, I was content to be controlled by him.”
“Hmm. . .”
“I am scared though, Alec. When I stand up to him, my father-in-law could very well pull the
rug of security right out from under me.”
“I warned you that could happen.”
“Yes, you did. . .but I’m not turning back. I can’t! I believe the Lord has opened my eyes and allowed me to learn the things I have for a reason. He now expects me to act upon my knowledge even if it means I have to find another job. . . another church.”
“I hope you’re planning to contact your husband’s attorney and find out the specifics regarding any money Michael left you. I’d hate to see what happened to your mother happen to you, too.”
“Oh yes, that’s another area of my life I intend to take back from Gerald.”
Alec chuckled. “You know, for a sweet little Southern thing, you sure are brave. I admire you for that, especially since I’ve got a feeling many men cower around your father-in-law.”
“I’m not so brave. My insides feel like jelly right now.” Glancing over at him, Lydia saw the smile on his rugged features broaden. “But, you know, Alec, I think Jordan was right—about us worshiping together.”
“I was going to bring up the subject myself.” He momentarily took his eyes off the road and looked over at her. “What do you suggest?”
“From what I recall, I liked Pastor Spencer. I wouldn’t mind giving his church a try. Of course, Gerald believes Berean Baptist is inferior to SPCC. But I think that might have been an issue Michael would have gone toe-to-toe with his father on.”
“Mark’s a strong preacher and I think you’ll be blessed, but ours is a small church. We’re lucky if fifty people show up on Sunday morning. That’ll be different for you.”
“Yes. SPCC runs about two thousand attendees on any given Sunday morning.”
Alec was silent for several miles. At last, Lydia heard him expel a long breath before he spoke again. “You sure about this, Lydia? You sure about me. . .us?”
She smiled, sensing his insecurity. “Don’t worry. I won’t change my mind no matter what.” She paused in earnest. “I just hope you don’t.”
“Not me.”
They continued to chat amicably the rest of the way into Woodruff. Then, as Alec was about to make the turn into Lydia’s driveway, she caught sight of Gerald’s BMW parked out front.
“Oh no,” she murmured. “I thought he was in Florida!”
“Your father-in-law?”
“Yes. But it’s nearly midnight. What’s he doing here at this hour?”
Gerald’s stern countenance suddenly flashed before the headlights as he stepped down from the front porch.
“Judgment day,” Alec remarked, bringing the van to a halt near the garage.
“Please don’t make jokes. I feel like I might be sick.”
“Listen,” he stated earnestly, “neither of us has done anything wrong.”
Her heart hammering anxiously in her chest, Lydia didn’t trust herself to reply. But Gerald would discover their plans eventually; it may as well be now.
Sending up a tiny prayer, she opened the door, climbed out, then pulled on the back door, rousing Tyler and Brooke.
Gerald happened upon her fast. “Where have you been?” Beneath the yard light, Lydia could barely make out his features, although she heard the controlled anger in his voice. “And why doesn’t my key work in the lock?”
“Which question would you like me to answer first?” Lydia countered firmly, but politely.
Alec came around, popped the hatch, and began removing luggage from the minivan. Seeing him, Gerald’s jaw dropped slightly.
“What in the world have you done? Taking off with a strange man for the weekend? And in front of the children. . .”
“It was all very proper, I assure you,” Lydia stated, feeling insulted. She lifted Brooke out of the vehicle, then moved aside so Tyler could jump down.
“Hi, Grampa. Guess what? I got to see Matt this weekend. His dad made him a tree house and it’s pretty cool, but Mr. Alec had to finish off the side of it ’cause Mr. Smith isn’t as good at building stuff as Mr. Alec.”
“Well, well, isn’t that. . .nice,” came Gerald’s barbed reply while he pierced Lydia with his dark gaze. “The Smiths. You visited the Smiths.”
Alec closed the hatch and then tossed Tyler the house keys. “Go open the back door, will you?”
“Sure. I caught those keys good, didn’t I?”
“Yep.”
Lydia set Brooke down, instructing her to follow her brother into the house.
“But it’s dark in there,” she whined.
“Ty will turn on the lights,” Lydia promised, hating the way Brooke was suddenly so afraid of the nighttime. For the past two nights, Lydia had had to sleep with Brooke so she wouldn’t cry.
Once the children were out of earshot, Lydia turned to her father-in-law. “Sherry’s my friend and I’ve missed her.”
“I see.”
“And just so you know, I visited my mother last Monday.”
“Mm. . .”
“Furthermore, Alec and I are still seeing each other.”
“So I gathered.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his beige London Fog trench coat. “You’ve thwarted my every word of warning.”
Lydia could only nod.
Gerald grunted. “You certainly know how to hurt an old man. I only wanted the best for you—for my grandchildren—and to have my efforts tossed back in my face is quite distressing.”
Experiencing a sudden wave of shame, Lydia chanced a look at Alec and saw him smirk. She wondered what he found amusing. Then leaning casually against the minivan, he met her gaze and mouthed, “Guilt trip.”
She nodded back knowingly before facing Gerald again.
Just then Tyler burst out the back door. “Mama, Brooke is screaming her head off and I turned on the lights upstairs. But it didn’t help.”
“Want me to go in?” Alec asked.
“Would you mind?”
“Nope.”
“Wait a moment,” Gerald demanded. He turned to Alec, then returned his gaze to Lydia. “Since when does a stranger see after Brooke’s welfare?”
“Alec is hardly a stranger.” She gave him the go-ahead to proceed to the house before continuing, “And since Sim terrorized all of us last week, Alec is something of a hero in our eyes—especially Brooke’s. She feels safe with him. So do Tyler and I for that matter.”
“Now there’s an oxymoron for you,” he stated sarcastically. “You feel safe with a man who’s been convicted of offenses such as disorderly conduct and drunk driving? Where’s your head, Lydia? In addition, I think you misunderstood Sim’s intentions.”
“There was no misunderstanding.”
“He only came to see after your well-being.”
“He attacked me!” Lydia couldn’t believe her father-in-law was taking Sim’s side against hers. And, yet, she told herself she shouldn’t be surprised.
“Sim never meant to cause you any harm. He merely wanted a kiss. He’s crazy about you.”
“He’s crazy. I’ll grant you that much.”
“Now, listen,” her father-in-law said, gently taking hold of her upper arm, “we will discuss your relationship with your, um, neighbor another time. But for now, there’s a more urgent matter to address. Let’s go in the house, send your friend home, and make some coffee while we talk, shall we?”
“Thank you, but no. Whatever you have to say to me, Gerald, you can say out here. I’m tired and I don’t feel much like having coffee.” She’d never dared to speak to her father-in-law that way and she felt a bit amazed at herself. Next, she pulled her arm from his grasp.
“Very well.” He inhaled deeply, audibly. “I must insist you drop any litigation against Sim. He’s not even going to sue your hero for assault and battery. Isn’t that a relief?”
“He doesn’t have a case. Why would he sue Alec?”
“Lydia, two men were fighting in your bedroom—one had the key to your house, the other has a criminal record. This could get very ugly and my point is this—with all the bad publicity out there, we cannot afford a
nymore. Sim is my attorney. I need him right now. Everything is running smoothly and he expects to have the case against me dismissed by the end of the week. Then Elberta will return and things will fall back into place.” He paused, his dark gaze boring down at her. “You wouldn’t want to ruin the Boswick family’s good name just to get back at Sim, now would you? Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. I will repay.” The threat lingered in the air.
Lydia was tempted to succumb to his persuasion, but soon recognized it as another manipulative ploy. “I’ll consider what you’ve said,” she promised, despising the fragility in her own voice. But squaring her shoulders in spite of her trembling emotions, she made her way toward the house.
❧
“I cannot begin to fathom what went through your head last Thursday night!” Gerald glared at Sim’s bruised face and swollen eyes. “She hates you. I just left her place and I’m convinced of it. What’s more, Lydia seems more determined than ever to continue her little liaison with Alec Corbett.”
“So that’s what brought you back from Florida so early.” Sim’s puffy lips twisted into a cynical grin. “And here I thought you were worried about me.”
Gerald snorted in disgust. “You’ve likely ruined everything.”
“Not so fast. Not so fast. I’ve come up with a plan.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
“We’ll get rid of that big ox of Lydia’s.” He rubbed his jaw gingerly and hardened his gaze.
Gerald shook his head. “Murder is out of the question. I do have some scruples left, you know.”
“I’m not talking about killing the man. We’ll just make his life so miserable that he won’t want anything more to do with Lydia or the entire Boswick family. We’ll get him to leave town.”
Southern Sympathies Page 15
