Age Before Beauty

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Age Before Beauty Page 22

by Virginia Smith


  Eric pulled off the side of the road and let the truck roll to a stop. An ancient stone fence ran along both sides of the curvy two-lane road. Farms spread out beyond it as far as he could see. The fields around him were littered with tobacco stubble, dried-out stalks left over from the harvest. A white farmhouse sat well back from the road at the end of a narrow dirt driveway that carved the fields on either side into uneven pieces.

  Okay, the truth. Allie was the only woman for him. He’d known it the moment he laid eyes on her. He loved everything about her. The way she psychoanalyzed everybody and was almost always right. The way she approached a task like a linebacker ready to knock any obstacle out of her way. Her intelligence. Her compassion. Her looks. Everything. He couldn’t believe his incredible luck that he’d managed to find a woman like her.

  The porch light up at the farmhouse came on, and he could make out a man’s figure as it stepped through the front door, staring intently his way. Eric noticed a sign nailed to a wooden post that stood sentry to the driveway. No Trespassing. He put the truck in reverse, backed into the dirt driveway, and then pulled out onto the road heading slowly back toward town.

  There was only one catch with leaving his problems behind. He’d also be leaving behind everything he cared about. Everything he loved. Everyone he loved. He couldn’t do that.

  The sun had sunk out of sight behind the gentle swell of the hills, and his truck’s headlights carved two bright beams through the deepening twilight. They’d just have to work it out, that’s all. If Allie wanted to keep doing this makeup sales stuff, he’d shut his mouth and let her. After he watched her cut up that credit card, that is. But she’d figure it out. She might make a mistake or two, but in the long run she would succeed. He couldn’t imagine Allie doing anything else.

  So what about this church thing? His teeth scraping across each other sounded loud in his ears. All day long as they worked in the yard alongside her family, he had sensed a change in her. A couple of times he heard her humming a song as she raked leaves, and Allie never hummed. He’d attributed her good mood to spending time with her sisters last night. But what if it was something else? What if going to church was what made her happy today? He wanted her to be happy, didn’t he?

  The first buildings of town came into view. Eric drove past without seeing them. He kept his eyes fixed on the road, his mind skipping all around their argument. What had Allie said? “Church doesn’t set things right. God does.”

  Sounded like something Ken Fletcher would say. Or Joan. That was probably it—Joan had gotten to Allie last night with her God-talk. Eric’s wife had found religion. He was married to a religious makeup saleswoman. A shudder passed through his shoulders. Could he live with that?

  Without really paying attention to where he was going, Eric steered the truck through town. He followed a path he’d traveled more frequently in the past few days than in all the years since he moved to Danville. Down Main Street past Constitution Square with its restored log cabin and historic statues. Past the courthouse. The fire station. Toward the Centre College campus. With no surprise at all, Eric turned onto the drive of Christ Community Church. He pulled the truck around to the back of the building and got out. A lone car sat on the other side of the lot, covered in darkness.

  Eric leaned against the door of his pickup and stared at the building. A tall spire thrust into the sky. Moonlight glimmered off the cross that topped it. What was it about this place that had drawn Allie here this morning? Why did an intelligent man like Ken choose to spend time here? And Joan was no dummy, either. What about this place had grabbed her attention a few months ago and made her want to go off to Mexico like some kind of missionary?

  The back door opened and a man exited the building. Uh oh. Though it had been a few years, Eric recognized the guy even across the distance. Reverend Jacobsen performed their wedding ceremony.

  It was dark. Maybe if Eric didn’t move, he wouldn’t be spotted.

  No luck. Reverend Jacobsen’s head turned toward him on the way to his car. He changed directions and headed straight for Eric.

  Terrific.

  Eric hefted himself upright as the older man approached, squinting in the darkness. He probably wouldn’t remember him, anyway.

  His face brightened with a smile as he drew near. “Hello, Eric. What a surprise to find you here.”

  So much for not recognizing him. Nothing wrong with the guy’s memory.

  Eric took the hand that Reverend Jacobsen thrust toward him. He pocketed his own as soon as the man released him. “Hello, sir. I was just out driving around and decided to stop for a minute.” Lame excuse, but it had the benefit of being the truth.

  “I had the pleasure of seeing your wife and your beautiful little girl this morning.”

  “Yeah, she told me. I was at home. Uh, with my mother. She’s visiting for a while.” His mouth snapped shut. What was the matter with him? He didn’t need to make excuses for not going to church!

  Reverend Jacobsen nodded. “I understand you’ve been helping out with the auction our mission team is conducting.”

  Fletcher. What else had he told the minister?

  Eric lifted a shoulder. “Not much. Just picked up a couple of donations. Not a big deal.”

  “Well, we appreciate your help. It’s an important project, one we hope will spread the love of God not only in Mexico but here as well.”

  “Excuse me?”

  The older man smiled. “When people like our singles group promote a project with such enthusiasm, it demonstrates God’s love in a real and tangible way. Projects like this have a way of catching a community’s attention. We hope people who don’t normally come to church will come out Tuesday night, and that they’ll get a glimpse of God’s love in action.”

  “People like me, huh?” Eric didn’t mean his words to come out sounding as bitter as they did. He wished he could take them back.

  Reverend Jacobsen didn’t seem to notice. His smile held a touch of mischief. “Naturally I hope you’ll want to come, and that you’ll like us enough to join your family next Sunday morning.”

  “Do you get, like, a commission or something? The fuller the pews on Sunday mornings, the higher your bonus?”

  The guy might have taken offense at the accusation, but he raised his head and laughed. “Not the kind of bonus you’re thinking about.” Then he sobered. “You’re not very fond of churches, are you, Eric?”

  Was that a reference to Eric’s past, compliments of Ken? Looking at Reverend Jacobsen’s guileless face, he didn’t think so. “Let’s just say I haven’t had good experience with people who are fond of churches.”

  “Ah.” The minister nodded. “It’s so easy for people to disappoint us.”

  Eric looked at him sharply. “Something like that.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard what Jesus said on that subject. ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.’ ”

  Oh, great. He was getting his own private sermon, right here in the church parking lot. “Well, seems to me if Jesus is looking for sinners, church is a good place to start.”

  Instead of flaring up, the guy laughed again. “I have no doubt of that.” Reverend Jacobsen cocked his head, deep shadows from the building hiding his eyes. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  Yeah, actually, he did mind. He minded this whole conversation. But he couldn’t be rude, not to the guy who performed his marriage ceremony. “Shoot.”

  “Forget church for a minute. Forget people who may have hurt you. Do you believe in God?”

  Eric did. He’d never been able to accept the big bang theory, that the universe and the earth just happened to pop into existence. You didn’t throw a handful of nuts and bolts into a blender and expect a car to pop out. Somebody put it all together. “Yeah, I believe in God.”

  Reverend Jacobsen nodded. “Do you believe that he loves the people he created?”

  A slow-moving cloud
crept across the moon, deepening the darkness around them. The minister’s question hovered in Eric’s mind. He had seen so much pain in his job, so much suffering. And yet, he knew deep inside that God didn’t cause the misery he’d seen. People did.

  The snatch of a tune crept up from the dredges of his memory, one his grandmother had taught him before she died. Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. He’d forgotten. She used to rock him in that old rocking chair, the black one with the gold leaves painted on the arms. She sang to him and told him how Jesus loved him so much he had died just so little Eric could live forever in heaven with God. Eric had believed her, had accepted her words as fact. Then she died. Did he stop believing when she was no longer there to tell him? Or did he believe still?

  “Yes.” His voice came out in a whisper. “I believe that.”

  Reverend Jacobsen placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then focus on that, Eric. Don’t let imperfect people take your eyes off of the most important thing—God’s love for you.”

  Warmth from the man’s hand spread from Eric’s shoulder downward. For a moment, he felt like he was a little guy snuggling in his grandmother’s embrace. He could almost feel the rocking motion, hear the rumble of music in her lungs as his ear rested against her chest. Could feel the certainty of the words she whispered as they took root in his soul. Jesus loves me, this I know.

  Then Reverend Jacobsen released his shoulder and stepped back. “I’ve got to get home or my wife is going to wring my neck. I told her I’d be home over an hour ago.” He turned to head toward his car, speaking as he walked away. “I hope to see you at the auction Tuesday night.”

  “Maybe. I have to talk to Allie about it.”

  That is, if he and Allie were speaking by then. The engine of the minister’s car roared to life, his headlights illuminating the brick side of the church. Eric climbed into his pickup. Instead of starting the engine, he sat in the rapidly cooling cab, his thoughts firing from one side of his mind to the other, like bullets fired across a battlefield.

  He wasn’t ready to go home yet. He needed time to think about this conversation. And about Allie. And about her job. And her credit card. And why she didn’t trust him.

  24

  Allie stood in the middle of the room, watching Eric shrug into his jacket as he prepared to leave for work Monday morning.

  “Have a nice day.” Her voice sounded pitiful in her own ears. Whiney. She glanced at Betty seated in her chair reading the newspaper and tried not to think about her husband going off to spend the day alone in a small room with That Woman.

  “You too.”

  He didn’t look at her. Still. He’d avoided looking at her since their argument. When he got home last night, he’d been sunk into himself, silent and distant. To be honest, Allie didn’t try very hard to draw him out. She didn’t want a repeat of their argument, and besides, she had a lot to think about herself. She’d laid in bed for hours after Eric fell asleep, listening to his even breathing. Thinking. And praying. Finally, she’d reached a decision.

  When he picked up his lunch bag from the chair and turned toward the door, Allie hurried across the room. She couldn’t let him leave like this, go to Molly while angry with her. She stopped him with a hand on his arm and spoke in a low voice, acutely aware of Betty’s presence.

  “I want to finish our discussion.”

  Exasperation creased his features. “Right this minute?”

  Allie let out a sigh. “No. But tonight, okay? I . . .” She wet her lips and lowered her voice. “I love you, Eric. I don’t want you mad at me.”

  Dark eyes bored into hers. A flicker of emotion dashed across his face in the second before he crushed her to his chest in a fierce embrace.

  “I’m not mad at you.” His voice was the merest whisper in her ear. “We’ll talk tonight.”

  Then he was gone. Allie shut the door behind him, her hand resting for a moment on the knob. They had a lot to talk about, but at least Eric wasn’t angry with her. Her mood rose like a balloon, tugging the corners of her mouth up with it. It was going to be a good day. A productive day. As a result of her sleepless and prayerful night, she had several positive steps to take, tasks that she would enjoy doing for once.

  She turned to find Betty watching her over the newspaper.

  “Uh,” she stammered, suddenly embarrassed. “We had a little argument last night.”

  “I heard.” Betty’s face remained as impassive as ever.

  Heat rose into Allie’s cheeks. “You did?”

  “The walls aren’t soundproof.” She lowered the newspaper to her lap. “Do you need money? I have some put back for a rainy day.”

  Warmth for this aloof woman flooded Allie. Tears stung her eyes. “Thank you, Betty, but no. This is something I need to work out for myself.” She stopped, her resolution of last night washing over her. “No, that’s wrong. Eric and I need to work it out together.” She sank onto the couch and clasped her hands between her knees. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation the other day. You remember how you said you wished you weren’t so dependent on Don?”

  Betty nodded, and Allie went on.

  “I’m all about being independent and having your own interests. But if I wanted to be completely self-sufficient, what’s the point of getting married?” Allie stared at her clasped hands, speaking slowly as she searched for the right words. “I believe God put me and Eric together.” She glanced up, to see if her mention of God had any effect on her mother-in-law. Betty’s expression remained dispassionate. “We’re a team. Sort of like one of Eric’s ball games. The quarterback can’t win the game by himself. He needs his teammates working with him. If one of them goes off and does their own thing during the game, they’re going to lose.”

  “Are you saying you’re going to quit work? Close your business?”

  Allie’s teeth snagged at her lower lip for a moment. She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yes.”

  There. She’d said it out loud. That made it real. A curious sense of lightness rose up in her, like all her burdens had been lifted.

  “Will you go back to your job at the state?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Eric and I need to talk about that. Maybe . . .” She swallowed. “Maybe I’ll stay home.”

  Betty leaned against the back of the chair, shaking her head slowly as she studied Allie. “You have a college degree, a career. You’re smart. Independent. How can you throw that away?”

  From the nursery, the soft sound of a baby’s first cry upon waking floated into the room.

  Allie smiled. “I’m not throwing away my independence. I’m just doing my part for our little team.”

  She rose and headed toward the nursery. On the way, she stopped by Betty’s chair to rest a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “God will take care of me. And Eric. And Joanie. I’m not going to worry about that.” She took another step, then stopped. “By the way, have you called Don yet?”

  A peachy flush edged its way up Betty’s neck as she shook her head.

  Allie let out an exasperated grunt. “Do it, Betty. Just do it!”

  Allie perched on the edge of Sally Jo’s elegant sofa. Joanie sat in her infant seat on the cushion beside her, watching the flicker of a red jar candle on the coffee table through wide blue eyes. The scent of cinnamon apples pervaded the entire house.

  “I have to admit, I’m surprised.” Sally Jo shook her head, staring at Allie from one of the upholstered wing chairs. “I thought Nicole would be the next to drop out.” Her eyelids narrowed. “You’ve got the drive and ambition it takes to succeed. I think you could rise high in the ranks of Varie Cose, Incorporated. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Allie nodded. “I’m sure. I might have what it takes, but frankly, I don’t enjoy sales. Never have. When I was a kid, I dropped out of Brownies because I hated selling cookies.” She rummaged in her briefcase—the one that cost eighty-seven bucks and would probably end up collecting dust on the t
op shelf of the closet—and pulled out a copy of the list she printed that morning. “Here’s a list of items I have in inventory. Before you place your orders, if you don’t mind taking a look to see if I have it on hand, I’d appreciate it. I’ll sell it to you at cost, and that will save me the restocking fee. I’m going to run a copy over to Darcy’s house too.”

  Sally Jo took the paper. Her eyes moved as she scanned the items. “This won’t be a problem. I’ve got over thirty sales consultants under me. I’ll let them know what you have.”

  Relief wilted Allie’s spine. She leaned back against the soft cushion with a sigh. Why hadn’t she thought of selling her inventory to other Varie Cose consultants before last night? That would take care of a huge part of the credit card balance. She hid a grin as a thought occurred to her. Maybe God had just dropped a pile of money in her lap. Wouldn’t Tori be surprised? Thank you, Lord.

  Sally Jo set the papers on the table and tapped the arm of her chair with a shiny pink fingernail that exactly matched the hue of her lips. Candy Coral, if Allie was any judge.

  “What will you do now?”

  Allie shook her head. “I haven’t decided.” A couple of days ago that admission would have set her stomach churning with anxiety. She grinned as she realized she wasn’t worried. She was in good hands.

  After she left Sally Jo’s, Allie navigated her car through the streets toward Darcy’s house.

  “This is going to work out, Joanie.” She glanced in the rearview mirror at Joanie’s car seat. Her daughter was invisible, facing the other way in the center of the backseat.

  Allie’s mood was lighter than it had been in weeks. Strange, because her problems really weren’t gone yet. But a big chunk of the credit card debt had just disappeared, or was about to. The coolest part, the thing that made her insides jittery, was that she sensed the hand of God in that solution. If he could take care of several thousand dollars of debt so quickly, Allie had complete confidence that he could handle the rest. She could hardly wait to tell Eric tonight.

 

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