“I guess everyone knows I’m here, huh?”
Jade grew somber. “I don’t know what everyone knows, sweetheart. But your grandmother is part of our Bible study group, and she shared with us in confidence that you were going through a tough time. I just came by to let you know that like First Lady Griffin, I’m willing to go through it with you. As pastor’s wives, we both can tell you it’s not easy having a spotlight turned on you, or having your every move and decision judged or scrutinized, and in your case, maybe the choices you’ve made in private. It’s tough.
“But you hang in there, and know that everybody has a story. You might not know what’s going on with your classmates or your friends, or everybody else who seems to know your business, but they’ve got issues, too. We all do. So never let anyone make you feel less than worthy.”
Shiloh couldn’t believe it. This was a side of Jade she hadn’t known existed. This was a real person, with a heart. This must be the woman Vic knew and loved. Shiloh was glad Jade was finally warming up to sharing herself with everyone else.
“That means a lot, Mrs. Smith; thank you,” Monica said softly. “Thank you for coming.”
Jade rubbed the girl’s arm and smiled at her.
“This too shall pass, my friend. Just keep telling yourself that and keep your head up. It’s one of God’s promises, so it will happen.”
She turned on her heels and gave Shiloh a light peck on the cheek before heading toward the door.
“I didn’t come to stay long. We’re packing for Cali and I have tons to do before we leave, but I wanted to come by and see Miss Monica, and you too, First Lady, since there’s no Bible study tomorrow night. Have a safe trip to Alabama, and thank you for all you did to help me have a successful run in last week’s pageant. Your support meant more than I can really express.”
After blowing a kiss to Monica, she was gone.
Shiloh looked at Monica and shook her head. “If wisdom can come from a Christian in diva form, it can come from anyone, my friend!”
Monica actually laughed, and Shiloh’s heart lightened.
“Mrs. Smith and I have had our issues, but as different as we are, God has found a way to bring us closer and to help each other grow,” Shiloh said. “If you had told me four months ago I’d think of her with fondness and actually consider her a friend, I would have laughed in your face. But if God can do that with two grown women, he can do some amazing things in and through you, too, Monica, even after this. You just focus on who you know you are, and do your best, and wait and see how he works. I can’t take away your pain and shame, but I hope you won’t hold onto it as long as I did. It’s a burden you don’t have to carry.”
Tears welled up in Monica’s eyes and she smiled again.
“I believe you, Mrs. Griffin. And I trust him. I’m ready to see what kind of good he will bring out of the mess I’ve made.”
Shiloh walked over to Monica’s bed and patted her hand.
“It’s called beauty for ashes, my friend, and you don’t have to keep calling it your mess. If you’ll give it to him, he’ll take it and call it his own. All you’ll have to do is hold onto his grace.” Shiloh paused before continuing. “I’ve been saying that for a long time; if I’m going to ask you to live it, I guess it’s time for me to do the same.”
sixty-five
The boys were asleep in the back of the van and the radio was playing softly when Randy proposed. “Shiloh Ann Wilson Griffin, will you marry me?”
“Excuse me?”
Shiloh swiveled her head toward her husband, whose eyes were fixed on the dark road. It was nearly midnight on the day before Thanksgiving, and they were about eight hours from Atchity.
“I know it’s not appropriate to do this while I’m driving, but we have four rowdy sons who have finally given us some privacy, and sometimes you have to seize the moment,” Randy said. “So forgive my informality, and the unromantic nature of this request, but will you marry me?”
Shiloh giggled. “I think this late-night drive is getting to you, but um, sure, honey. I will marry you. Want to pull over so I can drive for a while?”
Randy didn’t respond, but as he approached the next exit off the interstate, he made the right turn, and minutes later was sitting in a well-lit gas station/convenience store parking lot. Rather than pull up to one of the pumps, he parked along a row opposite the tanks and across the parking lot from the twenty-four-hour convenience store. Shiloh was surprised; usually when she offered to drive at night, he declined.
Instead of getting out of the car to trade seats with her, however, he turned to her and reached for her hands. “We’ve been through a lot in the past two weeks—a whole lot,” he said, sounding more like the twenty-something man who proposed the first time around, rather than the esteemed pastor he now was. “And you haven’t heard me say much.”
Shiloh’s heart beat faster. She didn’t know where this conversation was leading, but he was right; she’d been wondering where his heart and mind were ever since she’d shared her dangerous secrets. He had continued to go through the motions of a good husband, but there had been unusual and uncomfortable periods of silence between them, and what felt like a wall had formed, causing her to tiptoe around him like she never had before. Randy’s coolness had only reinforced her fear that maybe she had been little more to him than a convenient and appropriate wife for the preacher role he was ready to assume, and that maybe now, she was no longer worthy. She hadn’t wanted to believe that, but she also hadn’t wanted to question him about it. His answers might shatter her.
“I’ve been praying a lot and processing a lot, Shiloh,” Randy said. “And truth be told, I’ve been shell-shocked by all that you’ve dropped on me and the boys. You’re not who I thought you were. You’re not who I thought I married. And honestly, I’ve been angry; I felt betrayed, which I expressed by pulling away from you. I have to admit that I was scared, too. Scared that you would stand in front of our church family and tell them your ugly secrets and bring shame and judgment on us all.”
By now the tears were falling. Shiloh couldn’t hold them in. But she prayed this show of emotion wouldn’t stop Randy from sharing. She needed to hear what was in his heart. She needed to really know him.
“But every time I would take my anger to God and point out what you had done and what all of this could mean for my ministry, he would back me in a corner and ask me how I’d managed to be so perfect along my entire life’s journey. He showed me that truthfully, maybe I chose to date you and to marry you because you fit the preacher-wife mold: pretty, musically inclined, already well-entrenched in the church, and familiar with the protocol. You fit the bill, babe—every criteria I could outline.”
Randy lowered his head and sighed. “God asked me, though, if it had been that criteria that had held me and prayed with me when my dad overdosed on his anxiety medication after another Vietnam flashback; or if that criteria had birthed me those four healthy boys in the backseat, or nursed me back to health after my gallbladder surgery, or prepared meal after meal for me, or prayed with me and for me whenever I needed it, and sometimes before I could ask.”
Tears filled his eyes as he peered at Shiloh. “I realized that I had been a boy with my own plan when I married you and wanted everything to go my way. But being your husband has shown me that God’s way is better. Nothing you’ve shared about your past has been a betrayal of me or our vows. You betrayed yourself, and the gifts God placed inside you; but can’t you see, he has even redeemed that, by putting a passion for teaching in your heart, and by knitting you and Monica together? If I had to choose all over again, Shiloh, even knowing the grave sins you’ve committed, I’d have to look at my own sins and shortcomings and ask myself if I was worthy enough to be your husband. So I’m asking you tonight, in this gas station parking lot, with our sleeping sons snoring in the back seats, if you’ll consider me and my faults worthy enough of your company and your love, and share the rest of your life with me.”
sixty-six
By the time they made it to Atchity, the sun had risen and it was Thanksgiving morning.
The only good thing about arriving the day of the holiday was Shiloh knew she’d be spared any heavy cooking. It wasn’t Dayna’s forte so she’d only do a dessert or two, and Jessica wouldn’t even bother. Usually it was Shiloh and Mama at the helm, but this year, Shiloh’s long-distance trek gave her the privilege of arriving with the ham she had already prepared and put on ice, and with assorted beverages.
The Griffin family poured out of the van at her parents’ house and stretched their legs before climbing the steps to the porch. Seconds after she rang the doorbell, Dayna’s husband Warren greeted her. This was a first. Mama and Daddy were becoming progressive if they were allowing the son-in-law they liked to keep in the shadows to welcome guests. What if she had been one of those less than open-minded Riverview Baptist members?
“Warren!” Shiloh gave her handsome, dark-haired brother-in-law a hug. His blue eyes radiated warmth, as did his smile, and Shiloh’s affirmation of Dayna’s choice of a second husband remained unchanged: Dayna had really good taste.
“Come on in, sis,” he said, with an eyebrow raised. She laughed, knowing he was thinking the same thing that had just run through her mind—amazement that he, of all people, was being given the opportunity to usher everyone inside.
“How’ve you been?” Shiloh asked. “Where are the twins, and Dayna?”
“Let’s see, let me handle those questions in order,” Warren said. “I’ve been doing great, especially now that the house is built and we are settling in. Michael and Mason are in the family room playing the Wii and waiting on your boys to arrive, and Dayna is in the kitchen with Tamara and Naomi, helping your mother put the finishing touches on the meal.”
Shiloh stopped in her tracks and stared at Warren as if he had two heads.
“Come again?”
Warren smiled. “You heard me right: Tamara and her mother Naomi came to Atchity with us to celebrate the holiday; it’s all good.”
Shiloh wanted to settle in a chair in the living room and get the full scoop on this one. She knew that Dayna and Warren had been heavily involved in helping create a scholarship foundation for Tamara’s late husband Brent—the man who had been Dayna’s college sweetheart and first husband. But to invite the woman who had once been her nemesis—Brent’s mistress during their marriage—to dine with her family for the holidays? Dayna obviously had grown in ways Shiloh hadn’t imagined possible. This was the side of her sister she wanted to know and love better.
Jessica strode into the living room wearing an apron and a grin, with her arms open for a hug, and Shiloh decided she was in the middle of a dream.
“The hug I’ll take, but what are you cooking?” she asked and laughed.
Jessica paused and put a hand on her hip. “You better take this hug while I’m offering it, Miss Thang, and this dish I’m cooking up, too. Once my show starts on Oprah’s network, the fans will besiege me, plus my first splurge is going to be a personal chef.”
Shiloh laughed and pinched Jessica’s cheek. “Why did I think you already had a personal chef? And I don’t care whose network you are on, you’ll always be my little sister and required to deliver hugs or whatever else I want.”
Jessica grinned. “Glad to know who I can call to help keep my feet on the ground.”
Jessica stepped around Shiloh and hugged the rest of the Griffins as they flowed into the living room, going from Randy to Lem to Omari to Raphael to baby-of-the-family David.
Mama and Daddy finally appeared, and the round of hugs and kisses continued. When Shiloh’s turn came with her father, she held onto him and hoped he could feel every ounce of affection in her hug. How thankful she was to have this chance to be in his arms again, and to tell him that no matter what they’d been through over the years, she loved him.
Daddy stood back and surveyed the bustling room filled with his family.
“Praise God—all my children under one roof, and their families too. God has been good to me.”
Dayna stepped into the room at that moment and hugged him from behind. “He’s been good to all of us, Daddy, and you’re the cherry on top.”
Shiloh couldn’t have said it better herself.
sixty-seven
It was almost time for dinner, but Shiloh couldn’t find Lem anywhere.
Finally, something told her to check the van. Maybe he had gone there to call Lia and have a private conversation. She trotted outside and sure enough found the front passenger door of the van partially open.
When Lem noticed her, he lowered the cell phone from his ear. “Mom, would it be okay for Lia and her family to stop by later this evening, after dinner? Or can you take me to Birmingham tomorrow to spend some time with her?”
Shiloh’s first inclination was to say no on both counts, but she knew that response was stemming from her personal discomfort with all she had shared with her son. She had come too far in the past week to regress. She needed to show Lem, and the other boys, that she could face the music her truths would render.
“Yes, Lem, either of those options is fine.”
He raised the phone to his ear, with an air of confidence. “My mom says it’s cool, Lia. I’ll text you the address. Let me call you back, okay?”
Lem ended the call and climbed out of the van. “Thanks for that,” he said, without looking at Shiloh.
Shiloh tilted her head and folded her arms, curious about his response. “You’re welcome, Lem. Want to talk about what’s eating at you?”
He kept his eyes fixed on his phone. “You already know.”
“Then why did you invite Lia to come here? With her grandparents, I assume?”
“Actually, she’s bringing her mother.”
A chill coursed through Shiloh. “Leslie’s coming? Lem, how could you?” She leaned against the van. “I don’t know about this, Lem. You might need to call her back. I thought her mother wasn’t part of her life anymore. I had no idea …”
“She’s been in a treatment center for the past year trying to pull her life together, according to Lia. She’s at home today and tomorrow, for the Thanksgiving holiday.”
Shiloh’s mind was racing. To tell the truth was one thing; to face it was another. Was Lem doing this to hurt her?
“Lem, son, we need to talk about this.”
“About what? There’s nothing to talk about. You’ve told it all, haven’t you? It is what it is.”
He’d never raised his voice at her, so Shiloh tried to keep her cool. “It’s easy to say ‘It is what it is,’ but not really easy to live.” His fustration was palpable. “Let it out, Lem. I can take it.”
He turned away and stalked to a pine tree near the side of his grandparents’ house. Within minutes, the tree felt his full fury. Lem pummeled the trunk with his sneakered foot over and over, until Shiloh worried that he would sprain or break one of his toes. Instead of intervening, she held her tears at bay, and she prayed.
Help him release the anger, God. Help him forgive me. Help him feel no shame for my mistakes.
The fact that her disappointing revelations had brought him to this point devastated her. Yet even as she hurt, she knew without a doubt that she had done the right thing. She needed to tell the truth for her sake, for Randy’s, and for Lem and his brothers.
In this horrifying moment she understood that while she could have easily taken the secret of her abortion to her grave, but doing that wouldn’t change the consequences her long-ago decision had yielded. It had shaped who she was as a person and even
as a wife and mother. It had led her to make decisions based on guilt and on feeling required to live a life of penance and perfection, functioning as a people-pleasing saint.
How could she tell her wounded son that the very actions causing him anguish—her admissions of guilt—had been the ones to fill her with a sweet freedom she hadn’t known was possible? How could she tell him that for the first time ever, she fully understood the meaning of and power of grace?
Even as she quaked inside at the thought of meeting her former college roommate face-to-face, she had a peace that just as God had brought Leslie’s daughter into her son’s life, he was orchestrating a reunion at the time he knew was best. It wasn’t going to be pretty; Shiloh had to steel herself for that. But as much as she wanted to resist and flee, she had to trust God’s heart.
Shiloh didn’t know how to take her son’s outburst, however. Was he angry with her or ashamed of her, or both? Either way, he was justifiably so. She remained by the van and waited for him to collect himself. At some point, he slid to his knees, then sat under the tree, with his head bowed. Shiloh closed her eyes and prayed again.
Minister to him, Lord. I know he’s young, but help him forgive me and see your hand in this.
Shiloh wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when she saw Randy poke his head out of the front door and frown when his eye caught Lem, she motioned for him to go back inside. He complied, and she stood there, continuing to watch and wait, until she thought her legs would fall asleep. Finally, he raised his head and pushed himself up off the ground.
He looked toward the van and seemed surprised that she was still there. He walked toward her, and she thought her heart might thump right out of her chest. When he reached her, he gazed into her eyes, as if searching to see who or what lay inside. Eventually, he spoke.
“I’ve been wondering what kind of person you were back then to have done the things you did,” he said, with little emotion in his voice. “It’s hard to believe that you, the mother who taught me to always tell the truth, do good to others, and treat people like I want to be treated, could do something so mean to someone who considered you a friend.”
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