The Scarlet Thread

by Francine Rivers

  “I asked him point-blank. He tried to worm his way around the issue with his usual legal jargon. He might be able to fool everybody in a courtroom, but I always know when he’s lying.”

  “Are you filing for divorce?” Ashley said, her own having only recently been declared final.

  “Actually, I was thinking about castration.”

  “Here,” Meredith said, delighted. “Take the butter knife.”

  Ignoring Meredith, Marcia put her hand over Lorraine’s. “Don’t make any decision too quickly, Lorry. Try to work it out.”

  “Work it out!” Lorraine’s dark eyes welled with tears. “I put the jerk through law school. Four years I worked two jobs just to get him through. You know who the woman is? That airheaded blonde bimbo I told you about, the one in the last divorce case he handled.”

  “Be thankful,” Meredith said. “At least it wasn’t the husband.”

  Nancy laughed before she could stifle it. Looking sheepish, she apologized quickly. “Stop making jokes, Meredith,” she whispered. “It’s not funny.”

  “Of course it’s funny. It’s hilarious!” Meredith said. She lifted her martini in salute. “To marriage, the biggest joke man ever played on womankind. I should know. I’ve been on the merry-go-round often enough.” She downed the martini with a flick of her wrist.

  “At least Eric’s faithful,” Lorraine said bitterly.

  “Oh, of course, he is, darling. As long as I give him everything he wants, he performs like a trained dog, though I daresay a dog has more loyalty.” Her mouth curved in a cynical smile. “That little sports car Eric is driving cost me one hundred and fifty-seven thousand dollars.” She gave a bleak laugh. “Fidelity comes at a high price these days.”

  Sierra saw the sheen of tears in Meredith’s eyes.

  “I’d kill myself if John cheated on me,” Edie said.

  “Ah, now there are wise, comforting words,” Meredith said, her tone hard-edged with derision. She flagged Wylie for another martini. “Far from an original idea. Attempt suicide, and your unfaithful husband will be wretched with guilt. I tried that with my second husband. Charles called an ambulance and had my stomach pumped. A completely disgusting experience, I can tell you. And did he beg forgiveness and tell me how much he loved me and what a mistake he’d made? Ha! He moved out while I was in the hospital.” Pain flickered across her face as she revealed this old, obviously still unhealed, wound.

  “I told Frank a long time ago that what’s good for the gander is good for the goose,” Lorraine said as the waiter moved away.

  “Meaning what?” Edie said. “You’re going to cheat on him now?”

  “Why not?” Lorraine said fiercely, eyes brimming with tears. “Let him have a taste of what it feels like to be betrayed.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Meredith said with an overbright laugh. “And I know just the lad to instill jealousy in any husband. James! Come over here this minute, dear.”

  Lorraine, fully aware of just how outrageous Meredith could be when she’d been drinking, blushed as a handsome young waiter turned slightly to look over at them. “Don’t you dare, Meredith!” she hissed.

  “Isn’t he a dish?” Meredith said, waggling her bejeweled fingers at him playfully. “Gorgeous, ambitious, and half Frank’s age. In far better shape, too.”

  “If he takes one step in this direction, I’m leaving.”

  Meredith shrugged dramatically toward the young man. “Another time, dear. Lorraine’s changed her mind.”

  “I swear, Meredith. You’re completely incorrigible,” Lorraine said.

  “Comes with the territory,” Meredith said, a bleakness seeping into her blue eyes. She quickly tried to hide it behind a bright, brittle smile.

  Ashley glanced at her watch. “I’m going to have to get to the gym.”

  “She has to work off the rum,” Meredith said dryly.

  Ashley worked out an hour each morning at home and then spent another hour each afternoon at the club with a personal trainer who specialized in body shaping. She had a perfect body already but was convinced if she missed a day of exercise, she’d blow up like a balloon. Sometimes she ate nothing but salad without dressing, while at other times she gleefully devoured every dessert on the menu. Sierra had never known anyone so obsessed with her body and caloric intake.

  “Can’t you forgo it just this once?” Lorraine said, annoyed.

  “Why don’t you come with me? A good workout will do you a world of good.”

  Meredith smiled drolly. “Treadmills are wonderful things, aren’t they? They reduce a normal human being right down to the mentality of a hamster in a wheel.”

  Ashley gave her a sharp glance. “A good workout would be better for her than obsessing about Frank and getting drunk like you.”

  Meredith arched an elegant brow. “The kitten has claws today.”

  Ignoring her, Ashley got up. “Are you coming with me, Lorry?”

  “No. My heart already aches. I don’t need my body aching, too.”

  “Fine.” Swinging around, Ashley walked quickly across the room and out the exit into the lobby.

  “That girl’s so uptight she could turn coal to diamonds,” Meredith said, shaking her head. “I say we spike her mineral water. Maybe she’ll enjoy life a little more.”

  Sierra lifted her iced tea and sipped, wondering if any of these women enjoyed life at all. They had everything the world counted important, yet she couldn’t see any evidence of joy in their lives. They were all hungry for something more.

  Just like you . . . , a voice echoed in her head. She shifted uncomfortably, knowing it was true. The same hunger ate away at her and left her feeling restless and insecure.

  Something was missing, but she didn’t know what.

  Marcia put her hand over Meredith’s. “What’s the matter with you today?”

  Meredith gave a bleak laugh. “Nothing that isn’t wrong with me every day of my life.” She gave the waiter a radiant smile as he set another martini in front of her. “Thank you, Wylie.” She lifted the drink to Marcia. “Cheers, sweetie.”

  “Did you ever see Dr. Worth?” Marcia said.

  Meredith gave a derisive laugh. “I don’t need a psychiatrist.”

  Sierra had been amazed to find out that the totally together Marcia had ever been to a psychiatrist, let alone that she’d been in ongoing therapy for ten years. Marcia claimed that was why she felt so at peace within herself. Dr. Worth had taken her on a journey into her past, where she had come face-to-face with the causes of problems in the present. Apparently, her parents had said and done things, seemingly unimportant at the time, that had had profound effects on her ability to function as an adult.

  “Once I’d discovered what—and who—was responsible, I found I was free to move on,” she’d told Sierra, that calm smile on her face.

  Whenever difficulties arose in her marriage or life, Marcia simply returned to the refreshing, comforting counsel and couch of Dr. Worth. Once there, she received a booster shot of self-esteem, absolution, and direction.

  “Don’t you see, Meredith?” Marcia continued. “You’ll never be truly happy until—”

  “I don’t think getting in touch with my ‘inner child’ would help much,” Meredith said flatly, cutting her off.

  “It would help. I guarantee it. It’s helped me tremendously.”

  “Has it?” Meredith gave a mirthless laugh. “If it’s so helpful, why are you back in therapy every other month?”

  “Dr. Worth gives me a fresh view.”

  “Darling, I could give you a fresh view, and I wouldn’t charge you two hundred and fifty an hour.”

  Marcia drew back with graceful calm. She gave a slow sigh, a sign she was striving for patience. “Why don’t we order lunch?”

  “Ah, ah, ah. I’m sure any self-respecting psychiatrist like Dr. Worth would tell you substituting food for a good fight is stuffing your feelings and counterproductive to your mental and emotional health.”

  “I�
��m hungry,” Marcia said with a beatific smile.

  “No, you’re not. You’re mad.”

  “No, I am not.”

  Though Marcia sat in her usual, elegantly relaxed pose, Sierra could feel the tension radiating from her. She had seen the same thing happen before when Marcia was faced with a hard question.

  Meredith gave her a bald grin. “You’re getting angry.”

  “I’m sure you’d like me to be angry,” Marcia said coolly, “but it’s not constructive.”

  “Constructive?” Meredith smiled, her lovely, perfectly made-up face showing nothing of the inner turmoil that was clearly raging. “I’m always curious to see how deep your serenity goes, Marcia. I suspect not very.”

  Marcia arched her brow. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not serene at all, despite appearances. I admire your control. Really I do. You’re always so cool and so calm. Your husband never strays. Your children are a perfect little lady and gentleman. Not a single rapid in the river of your life, is there, sweetheart? Not so anyone can see, that is.” Meredith twirled her beautiful, aristocratic, bejeweled hand gracefully in the air, adding sardonically, “And all because you’ve embraced the light, become one with the universe, and live on a higher plane of consciousness than the rest of us poor mortals.” Her hand took rest beside the martini, her eyes shrewd. “Tell me, dear. Does the Valium help?”

  Two spots of color appeared in Marcia’s cheeks. “I face my problems head-on, Meredith.”

  “Oh yes, and wrestle them to the ground and choke them to death with the sheer strength of your will. I know,” Meredith said. “I’ve seen the hunted look on Tom’s face. I imagine if the poor man ever felt free enough to wear an open-necked shirt, we’d see the bite marks on his throat.”

  Marcia’s face flushed beet red. She went rigid for a moment, then let out her breath very slowly and audibly, a yoga technique Sierra recognized. “I prefer your company when you’re sober,” she said with icy calm.

  “And less honest, too, perhaps?” Meredith’s blue eyes flashed with disdain. “Solve your own problems, dearie, before you try to fix mine.”

  Marcia rose regally and cast a stiff smile at the others seated around the table. “Why don’t we all go in for lunch, ladies?”

  Edie, who loathed conflict, rose quickly. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  “We’d be delighted if you joined us, Merry,” Marcia said as she gathered her white tennis sweater and canvas bag.

  “Liar,” Meredith said and raised her martini in mocking salute.

  Sierra followed Marcia into the dining room. Nancy and Edie joined them; Lorraine, preferring the heiress’s acerbic wit, ordered another bourbon and remained behind.

  “I swear. Merry is turning herself into a drunk,” Nancy said, taking her place at the table.

  “What do you think Lorraine will do?” Edie said, accepting a menu from a waiter.

  “Get sick and cry a lot,” Nancy said with a pitying glance back toward the lounge. “Ending a marriage is bad enough, if it comes to that. If you happen to be married to one of the leading divorce attorneys in the country, you can expect to lose everything, including your children.”

  “If he wants them,” Marcia said blandly. “You’ve heard Lorry say often enough that Frank hasn’t shown any interest in the children since the day they were born.”

  Sierra thought of how little time Alex had for the children these days. When was the last time he’d played baseball with Clanton or talked with Carolyn? She had been shouldering the full responsibility of parenting since their move to Los Angeles. Then, when things didn’t go right, such as Clanton’s report card showing two Cs and a D, Alex always had her to blame.

  “What about Ashley’s situation?” Edie said. “Gerry demanded joint custody just to make her life miserable.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Marcia said, closing the menu and setting it aside. “Gerry was concerned for the children, and rightfully so. Ashley is so obsessive about weight, and poor little Veronica is going through her plump stage. Can you imagine what it’s like for a child of ten to be dragged to aerobics classes every afternoon after school? That’s what was happening until Gerry stepped in.”

  “An hour of exercise each day won’t hurt her, will it?” Edie said, looking at Marcia for answers. Her own children were enrolled in various sports programs and resisting attendance.

  “It’s not the exercise that’s harmful, Edie,” Marcia said, sounding as though she were explaining a basic equation to a slow-witted pupil. “It’s the experience of being forced to do what she doesn’t want to do. That will leave terrible scars on her psyche.”

  Sierra could imagine Veronica grown-up and spending an hour twice a week in Dr. Worth’s office exploring her “inner child.” Still, would any child do anything if not pressed? Didn’t Marcia press her own children to excel? Where was the difference?

  “Have you seen Veronica?” Nancy said, shaking her head sadly. “All that child does is sit around and eat snacks in front of the television. She doesn’t talk; she whines.”

  Uncomfortable with the course of the conversation, Sierra stared at the menu. She couldn’t help but wonder if the women talked about her and her children when she wasn’t present.

  She ordered lobster thermidor and let the current of conversation swirl around her without diving in.

  “You’ve been very quiet,” Marcia said at last.

  Over the past half hour, Sierra had listened to her three companions dissect Meredith’s, Lorraine’s, and Ashley’s lives. They had laid bare every dysfunction, past sin, and private anguish, seeming to relish the action far more than they were enjoying their food.

  She met Marcia’s calm gaze. “My life is so full of problems, I don’t feel I’ve any right to talk about theirs.”

  Silence fell around the table, and she felt the three women staring at her with a mingling of expressions.

  Marcia blinked, her eyes widening in surprise. “You think we’re gossiping,” she said in quiet accusation.

  Sierra glanced from Marcia to Nancy, whose eyes were hot with indignation. Edie, on the other hand, looked embarrassed.

  Sierra felt surrounded. Sometimes her friends acted like a pack of hounds. They had the veneer of sophistication, but they’d proven many times just how savage they were beneath. They didn’t use their teeth to rip a person apart—they didn’t need to. Their soft-spoken words were sharp and barbed and effectively shredded one another with regularity. Didn’t they realize what they were doing?

  “I think you’re concerned,” Sierra said, wondering if that was only the guise beneath which they hid less altruistic motives.

  “Of course we’re concerned,” Marcia said. “We love Meredith.”

  “And Ashley,” Nancy said.

  “And Lorraine,” Edie added. “You know we do.”

  “Yes, I know,” Sierra conceded, but she couldn’t help hoping they wouldn’t love her in the same way. “It’s just that talking about their problems like this doesn’t change anything.”

  “Then what will?” Nancy said.

  “I wish I knew.” She looked around at them, not knowing what else to say. Seeing their bleak eyes and defensive postures, she suddenly wished she were more like her mother. She would have had something to offer, some wisdom or encouragement.

  From the beginning, she had found the company of these women stimulating and challenging. They made her laugh. They made her think. They opened her eyes to the way the world was. She wasn’t the innocent, small-town girl Alex had brought to Los Angeles over a year ago. And she was thankful for that. But sometimes, she felt that despite the sophistication, knowledge, and wisdom about life that these women seemed to have, they really didn’t know anything at all. Nothing that mattered. Nothing that changed anything. If they did, wouldn’t their lives reflect it?

  “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, Sierra.”

  She frowned at the remembered words; her
mother had quoted them to her often. She looked at the women around the table again. It was bad enough that her words had brought an end to the conversation. There was no way she was going to try to bring God into this! That might work for her mother, but Sierra wasn’t as confident as her mother that God had all the answers. If He did, He certainly didn’t seem eager to share them.

  Not with her, anyway.

  She shifted again in her seat, wondering why she suddenly felt so depressed. Maybe it was because the discussion had revolved around the disintegrating lives of three women she liked and admired. Maybe it was because so many people all around her seemed to be hurting.

  Maybe it was because her own life felt so empty and out of control.

  “What’s bothering you?” Marcia said, sensitive to her mood. Nancy and Edie were looking at her, too.

  How honest could she be with these women? Was she the only one struggling with a sense of hopelessness? “I don’t know. A lot of things, I guess. I’m not even sure I can explain.”

  They sat waiting.

  Sierra plunged in, taking the risk. “I’m so busy all the time. Yet, at the end of the day, I feel . . . empty, as though time has passed, but I didn’t accomplish anything that mattered.”

  “What do you expect of yourself?” Nancy said. “To find the cure for cancer?”

  “No. Just something.”

  “The best thing we can do is be happy,” Edie said.

  “Within ourselves,” Marcia said in gentle admonition. “If we can’t manage our own lives, how can we expect to manage those of our families?”

  Manage. The word jarred. It was discordant. Sierra pictured a company president issuing memorandums to her employees. Meredith’s words flashed back in her head; they had been harsh, but true. Sierra had seen the dynamics of Marcia’s family. Watching her interaction with Tom and the children was like watching a master puppeteer working marionettes. Marcia always knew exactly what to say and do to get her family members to do what she expected of them. Both of her children were A students, active in sports, popular. Her husband worked hard, made good money, and came home from work every night at precisely five thirty. Marcia’s life seemed to run so smoothly.