by Sally John
“Got it.”
He found an armchair outside the loop of girls, near the door. As usual, his natural curiosity quelled any discomfort. Well, that plus Izzy and Gina and their… Their what? Acceptance? He might as well admit it. Their words and behavior encompassed much more than acceptance. Such a vague, generic term. It was forgiveness, nothing less.
He listened attentively. The girls, still munching brownies, quieted down. Someone said a short prayer. Izzy introduced him as Mr. Big Shot Reporter “who is not taking notes!”
He held out his empty hands.
“Ladies, pretend he’s not here.”
Gina spoke next. She was there as a guest to talk about her career as a veterinarian.
Tony marveled at the dynamics. There was nothing like a roomful of females. The topic digressed, as he knew it would. It went from Gina’s love of animals and early start as a wildlife park employee to what it was like living in California to how she met Brady Olafsson.
“Oh, he was such a pain in the neck. He thought I was a California snob. And I was.” She laughed with the girls. “And I thought he was an arrogant, goofy—he kept telling me these ridiculous jokes—guy from a town I couldn’t find on most maps. Now here I am, living in that town, engaged to him.”
The discussion flowed freely, the girls eager for more details about the elusive author. Tony missed how the group segued into premarital relations, but there it was. Captivated, he wished he could meld into the upholstery and remain unnoticed. But nobody glanced back at him. Izzy didn’t look over. It seemed they’d forgotten he was there. Or didn’t care. He stayed put.
Izzy interrupted when Gina turned pink. “Girls, this is getting a little personal for a stranger to the group.”
Gina replied, “I don’t mind. Really. I want to say this for your benefit. Brady and I are waiting. I know that sounds wild in this day and age, but we believe it’s for our best that God wants us to. It’s not something we’re going to regret. I’m not saying it’s easy. I’ve suggested on more than one occasion that we run over to the courthouse, get that marriage license, and grab Pastor Peter. Other times—” She fanned herself and laughed. “Whew. Maybe this is getting a bit too personal.”
The girls laughed.
“No.” Gina held up a hand. “It’s good that you hear this. We’ll be holding hands or kissing—yes, we do kiss—and literally jump apart. One of us says, ‘I can’t handle this right now.’ We go to opposite ends of the room. We play Scrabble. We go for a walk. We hang out a lot with other people.”
Tony wouldn’t have believed it coming from someone else. But he had seen these two people up close. They were strong enough and Brady was zany enough to behave in such an unnatural manner.
Izzy had the floor now. “Girls, I want to talk about the other side of the coin. What happens when you don’t wait?”
It was what they had talked about the night she cried so hard, full of guilt for their past relationship. Curious how calm she was now, her voice low and even, her eye contact taking in every face turned her way. Except for his.
“As we always remind each other, our times here are private. They are not a source for gossip. If, however, you need to share my story with someone, maybe a boyfriend, you have my permission. Okay?”
There were nods around the room.
“I was in college, mixed up, and yet so in love with life. I knew I could do it my own way. I thought I had met my future husband. We didn’t wait…and I got pregnant.”
The group drew in a collective breath. Tony mouthed a silent, “Whoa.” This was news to him. He wondered when it happened. Before they met or later?
“It ended in a miscarriage when I was about three months along. The whole scene disrupted my life. I never went back to school. That guy is not my husband today.” She paused, again making eye contact with the girls one by one. “I lost a baby, I never got a college degree, and I cheated any man I might marry.” Her tone grew passionate. “Ladies, I cheated on Jesus, too. I disobeyed Him. There’s this chunk of guilt that still weighs on me because nothing can take away the fact of what I did. I know He has forgiven me, but in all these years I haven’t yet been able to let it go completely. I am still learning what that means. It doesn’t go away overnight. When I was your age, this was not the journey I planned on taking.”
For a few moments, there was complete silence. Then one of the girls raised her hand. “Can I talk about what I did?” she whispered.
Tony slipped through the door. Now it was getting too personal. He didn’t want to be there when they remembered he was listening.
He hurried down the hall.
Well, that explained why Izzy was hiding out in Valley Oaks. It probably also explained why such a good-looking chick had no suitors. Poor kid, never graduating. And dragging around all that guilt about boyfriends and getting pregnant wasn’t healthy. He wondered again: What good is faith?
As the girls filtered out the door, Isabel struggled with a barrage of emotions. She had just publicly, diligently pointed out in minute detail her ugly past, the things she hadn’t shared with her closest friends in Valley Oaks.
She felt exhilarated and drained. She felt exposed and yet wrapped in the mantle of God’s love like never before. And now she felt doubtful. Had it been a wise choice?
Although her times with the girls were pretty free-floating, their discussions revolved around a Bible study booklet. The personal experiences Isabel shared usually concerned life in the present. She had never plunged to such depths of her past. She had never planned to do so. These girls were so impressionable. Would it be further gossip for the Valley Oak’s gristmill? Would it be condoning harmful youthful behavior because in the end God made it all right? In spite of her honesty, they could have no clue as to the price she paid. Teens were incapable of comprehending future consequences.
Tonight had not been on the agenda. How they went from Gina’s experience as a veterinarian to Isabel’s college years, she had no idea.
A few of the girls displayed no reaction…a few gave her extra-tight hugs…a few avoided eye contact…and Tony disappeared at some point along the way. What had he thought?
While sharing her story, she had forgotten he was there. It was as if time and space faded from view as she focused on those precious young faces. She was aware only of her passionate longing for them to understand her stumbling, so that they might not do the same.
Gina turned to her now as the last girl left, her face beaming. “Oh, Isabel! I had no idea!”
“That I was pregnant? I hadn’t told—”
“No! No! I had no idea that women could connect like that. That we could talk so freely about real life and mistakes and forgiveness. That we could—Oh, I don’t know! It was as if we walked alongside those girls on their journey and said, ‘I’ve been here; learn from my experience.’ Isabel, we really could have made a big difference in one of their lives! But it wasn’t us. Jesus was so palpable I could have touched Him. I think I heard Him breathing beside me!”
Isabel stared at her. She had forgotten how young Gina’s faith was. Tonight had been a wild ride even for Isabel, and for her such sweet times of sharing were a commonplace occurrence. No wonder a new believer like Gina was ecstatic. A nonbeliever would have been skeptical and—Walked out the door. Like Tony. Why did she even imagine he would have waited around?
Gina gave Isabel a fierce hug, laughter and words still bubbling forth. “I can’t wait to tell Brady! He’ll be asleep already, but I’ve got to wake him up. This won’t keep. Do you need help here?”
“No, you go ahead, Gina. Thank you so much for coming. You sparked it all.”
“I did?”
“Are you kidding? You and Brady are like this ultimate romantic couple.” She grinned. “The girls didn’t want to hear from a single, ‘hasn’t had a good date in ages’ girl like me!”
Gina hugged her again. “Thank you! Okay, bye!” She hurried through the doorway.
Isabel glanced aroun
d the room. Just a couple of napkins to throw away. A cup. An empty brownie pan to take home.
“Isabel!” Gina’s voice carried into the room a beat before she appeared, breathless and red-faced. “Do you know what I just realized?”
“What?”
“You didn’t go around telling the world your story until it was time when someone could benefit from it, like these girls tonight. That fact doesn’t make you any less trustworthy of a person. Does that make sense?”
Isabel tilted her head, unsure.
“It’s like Brady. He couldn’t or didn’t want to tell his story until now. For whatever reason. And that’s all right. And it should be all right with me even though I thought he should have told me. Yes?”
Brady had his reasons, Isabel had her reasons, God had His reasons. Her throat tightened. Lips pressed together, she smiled and gave her friend a thumbs-up sign.
Gina gave one back, grinned, and rushed off.
Isabel sank onto a couch and wept.
Twenty-Seven
The teapot slipped from Lia’s hands and clattered into the sink.
Her mother put an arm around her shoulder. “Dear, let me fix the tea. Go sit down.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Lia unclenched her fists and joined her dad at the table.
It was Thursday afternoon. Chloe was due home from school shortly. Her parents had taken time off from their jobs to drive from Chicago and pick up their granddaughter.
Susie Neuman was the daughter of immigrant parents with a trace of a Chinese accent coloring her words. She was a student when she met Jack at Northwestern, her tall, handsome economics professor. They were the greatest parents anyone could ask for, which was one of the reasons Lia had moved away from them. They had raised her to be independent, to dream big dreams. Independent dreamers didn’t live next door to the folks, even if they did borrow money from them.
Lia’s dad patted her hand. “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll work out.”
“Which part?”
He smiled and removed his horn-rimmed glasses, diminishing the professorial image. He was tall and gangly with still-thick, longish silver hair. “Chloe, Nelson, your business, the mysterious theft, the subtle prejudice here. All of it.”
She had to smile at his certainty. “One way or the other, you mean.”
“Of course. You wouldn’t want it any way other than God’s way. Success or failure.”
“Did I make a major mistake by coming here? You have money wrapped up in this, too.”
Her mom kissed the top of her head, placed two cups of tea on the table, and settled her petite frame into a chair. Her short black hair emphasized the roundness of her face, her dark eyes brimmed over with love for her now only child. “You gave up your dream to be a doctor. But the part about living in a small town not too far from the city was still alive. A place where you could get to know people and serve them.” She smiled. “Valley Oaks and the pharmacy are just that. We all agreed it appeared to be a good environment for Chloe. Give it time. Maybe you’ll even meet your pediatrician here and give me more grandchildren!”
Lia couldn’t help but smile back at her. All this melodrama and Mom brings that up!
“Lia,” her dad added, putting down his coffee mug, “we also all agreed the business details fell into place. Our money is your money. We trust in you and what you’re all about.”
Their support was as reliable as the daily sunrise. “But it seems I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”
He grinned. “That’s never stopped you before.”
Her mother placed a graceful hand on her arm, smoothing the lab coat’s long sleeve. “With God’s help it has never stopped you before.”
Lia nodded. “All right. It’s what I needed to hear. Of course. Now, about Nelson.”
An almost undetectable glance passed between her parents. Lia knew they were here only because they agreed with her decision to allow Chloe to visit with her biological father. But the hurt was never far from the surface. The man had killed their other daughter.
“You’re sure, Mom? Dad?”
Her mother nodded, reaching for her dad’s hand as she said, “Nelson told you just as he told us: He has changed. He’s rebuilding his marriage, his family wants to meet Chloe, he’s attending church. For Chloe’s sake, we should give him the benefit of the doubt. She needs to know him.”
Lia listened to the phrases that echoed those of Celeste and Isabel. She worried, though, because Nelson knew the buzz words that would resonate with them: church, change, family. He could use those words to manipulate them, to get what he wanted. But why would he even want to bother with his illegitimate daughter at this stage? Unless he truly had changed. Unless God truly had answered the prayers of her parents and their church.
Her mother wasn’t finished. “I think we’re called to give him the opportunity to change. Your dad agrees.”
He nodded.
Lia sighed, still struggling with the decision. “And you promise you won’t let him talk you into letting her spend the nights with his family? That’s asking too much of Chloe.” And me.
Her dad crossed his arms, her mother lowered her eyelids. No, of course they wouldn’t. They loved Chloe as much as she did, and the schedule was set. Nelson would take her for Friday evening dinner and then a visit to the zoo on Saturday. No more.
“Maybe you’ll visit the zoo this weekend? You haven’t been there for a while, have you?”
Her dad narrowed his eyes slightly. Lia knew he was trying to hide the twinkle. He’d probably considered the very same thing.
She stood, teacup in hand. “All right. I’d better get back downstairs.” She had left Dot in charge of the pharmacy counter, knowing she would call if things got too busy. The remainder of the store was in Anne’s capable hands.
Her mother smiled. “We’ll wait here for Chloe.”
Her dad put on his glasses and held the newspaper up in front of his face.
“Your dad doesn’t want to get in Dot’s way.”
Lia grinned all the way down the staircase.
A short time later, quick goodbyes were said on the sidewalk in front of the shop, squeezed between the filling of prescriptions. Lia kept telling herself it was better this way. If they lingered, she could very well lose control and change her mind. Extra-tight hugs were shared all around.
Anne and her daughter Mandy stood with her, waving until the Neuman car could no longer be seen across the town square. Mandy went to Anne’s car parked nearby on the street.
“Be right there, punkin,” Anne called. “Lia,” she said in her matter-of-fact tone, “you’re coming to dinner tonight.”
“Celeste already invited me.”
“Are you going?”
“No. I’d rather curl up with a good book. You know, I never have enough time to read…” Her voice trailed off.
“And cry yourself to sleep.”
She met Anne’s penetrating gaze. “So?”
“So, nothing.” Anne hugged her. “Call me or just come over if you change your mind and want company. We’ll be home all evening.”
Lia waved as her friend drove off, blinking back the tears, fighting down the nausea, wishing she hadn’t let Chloe out of her sight.
The night was long. Lia curled up all right, but it was in the dark without a book and nearer a fetal position than a cozy one. Things only got worse when little Soot leaped onto her bed and nudged herself under her hand. She must have been lonely in Chloe’s room.
Lia cried her eyes out and finally began to name her concerns out loud to Jesus, wanting desperately to feel His arms around her.
“Please, don’t let him drink. He promised not to. Please, don’t let his children be mean to her. Please, let the zoo outing be fun tomorrow. Please, if his wife is there—Oh, Lord, how can she forgive him? Does she know You? Or is she just so out of touch…”
It struck her then. That’s what she should be praying for: his entire family. What a dysfunctional mess they must
be! And she’d sent Chloe right smack into the middle it!
She moaned through the scenarios which that thought created, until at last even she tired of her complaints. Sitting up, she began to focus on praying for the Greene family.
After a time she felt calmed and reassured. God was with Chloe, and He loved her better than she could.
Before snuggling down under the covers, Lia went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Even with the blinds closed, the street lights lit her way, shining brightly through the windows that faced Walnut. At the sink she peeked through the lace curtain. A squad car was parked just across the alley, in the small lot behind the grocery store, facing her back door. A shadowy figure sat behind the wheel. A rather large shadowy figure.
Well, it wasn’t the arms of Jesus around her…but it came pretty close.
Twenty-Eight
“Cal!” Tammy pouted.
He kept his poker face. No two ways about it, the woman knew how to whine, drawing his name out into two syllables. “Tam, it’s business. I’ll be right back. Don’t pay the check.” She had a thing about picking up the check, making a show of treating him. It had begun to feel belittling.
Tammy’s blonde hair swung as she turned her head toward the window.
Cal slid from the booth and moved across the noisy, crowded main room of the Pizza Parlor. The building was turn of the century, an unlikely spot for pizza, but the Parlor had been serving the best homemade food in a 30-mile radius since he was a sixth grader. He grabbed a vacant chair and carried it to the booth where Isabel and Lia sat.
“Hey, ladies.” He swung the chair around and straddled it. “Mind if I interrupt a minute?”
Lia glanced over. “Hi, Cal.”
“Cal.” Isabel shook her head. “You are such a romantic. In uniform, at the Parlor, on a Saturday night date. You can’t top that.”
“Mind your own business, Mendoza.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s his cop tone.”
