Indemnity: Book Two: Covenant of Trust Series

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Indemnity: Book Two: Covenant of Trust Series Page 28

by Paula Wiseman


  Tracy draped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close, and then she kissed the top of his head. “I’m very proud of you,” she whispered.

  “Pastor Glen said I did it just right!” Jack’s whisper was louder than most normal conversations. “I think he just said that ’cause he likes me.”

  “He does.” She put a finger on his lips and winked, and then he nestled in close to her.

  The service dragged on with songs she didn’t know, and announcements she didn’t care about, until finally, Glen Dillard took his place behind the podium. He opened his Bible, and laid a sheet of notes to the side. He caught her eye, and then looked at Bobbi Molinsky sitting there at the other end of the pew. He blinked several times, and then glanced back at her. Shocked him, too, apparently.

  “All right, folks, you may remember last week we talked about Nicodemus, the most religious guy who ever needed Jesus. This week in John Chapter Four, we’ll meet one of the most interesting people in the whole Bible, the woman at the well. Now I’m going to read just about the whole chapter, so hang in there.”

  As Glen read, Tracy could see Chuck’s wife out of the corner of her eye, dutifully following along in her Bible. What was she doing, really? First, she showed up at the house last Saturday and tried to make small talk, and now ...

  “This was a very bright woman,” Glen said. “She knew where she stood before God. She understood God’s commands against sexual promiscuity. She knew she had broken those commands.”

  Glen never turned her direction. He could have. He could have glared at her, pointing an angry finger, thundering about her assured condemnation. But he didn’t. It was just another sentence in his sermon. And Chuck’s wife never moved.

  He continued, “But here’s what bright, thoughtful people do. Instead of admitting it, surrendering all that, they want to argue, to debate. This woman tried desperately to deflect attention from her own guilt before God by drawing others into the discussion. ‘Well, the Jews say we should worship this way’ or ‘yes, but ...’ Jesus wasn’t going to let her off the hook until she admitted who she was. It’s no different for us.”

  Admit who she was. She already knew. She knew she was rotten to her very core - a liar, a drunk ... or worse ... and a cold-hearted manipulator who used sex as a means to get what she wanted. Hopeless.

  “This woman was sure she was too far gone. It’s not recorded, but I suspect somewhere back on husband number two or three, she decided, ‘This is my life. This is who I am. Things will never be any different for me.’”

  Exactly. Her father’s crime marked her, condemned her to a life of isolated rejection. She clung to the hope that Jack, or rather being Jack’s mother, could somehow overturn that judgment.

  Glen’s eyes fixed on hers and he said softly, “She was wrong. Jesus knew exactly who she was, everything she’d done, and He made a special trip, out of His way, to make sure she knew that He wanted her. Jesus said, ‘It doesn’t have to be this way anymore. I am the real deal.’”

  She could hear from deep inside her, ‘This is you. This is your answer.’

  She glanced down at her son. His eyes drooped, and if the service went on much longer, he would lose the battle to stay awake. She hugged him gently, and he looked up at her and smiled.

  Sweet innocence. And suddenly, Glen’s words came into focus. This was all a set-up, designed to lure her into a humiliating confession and public cataloging of her sins. Jack loved her without the confession, without the admission of guilt. These people wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her grovel. Chuck probably engineered the whole thing, including his wife marking her for the rest of the assembly.

  “Mom, you’re supposed to stand up now,” Jack whispered loudly as the invitation music started.

  “Let’s go ahead and go, Jack,” Tracy said, gathering her purse and his gym bag. “My head stills hurts.”

  “Okay, but it’s not over yet.”

  “It’s close enough.”

  In the middle of intense prayer for Tracy Ravenna, Bobbi sensed movement. She looked up in time to see Tracy duck through the sanctuary door. Without stopping to think, Bobbi slipped out and followed her. She had no words, no idea what she was going to do, and she felt a flush of nervous perspiration, but she had to catch Tracy.

  By the time Bobbi got outside of the church, Tracy was within a few yards of her car. If Bobbi didn’t act quickly, she’d be gone. “Tracy! Wait!”

  Jack snapped around and waved, and although she didn’t turn around, Tracy did stop beside her car. Bobbi jogged a few steps to close the distance. Tracy unlocked her car, so Jack could get in, and then clicked the door closed behind him. Before she even turned around, Tracy said sharply, “I really don’t have anything to say to you, Mrs. Molinsky.”

  “I have a few things to say to you, and after all you’ve done to me and my family, I deserve to be heard.” Bobbi never flinched, never blinked as she waited for Tracy to face her. “I haven’t had any rest since you showed up in town again. I was never sure what you wanted, what you were after, or what you might pull next.”

  “So is that why you sat with me? To guard me?”

  “No, I figured that was as close as you would let me get.” Bobbi took a deep breath, and softened her tone. “I don’t hate you. I’ve made peace with God over your affair with Chuck. I’ve forgiven you and I want to make peace with you.”

  Bobbi held out her hand, and waited. For an instant, Tracy’s eyes dipped to the outstretched hand, but she made no other movement. Bobbi dropped her hand and continued speaking. “You see, last night, I understood for the first time how self-righteous I’ve been. I’m sorry. I’ve treated you horribly and I apologize.” Bobbi held out her hand again.

  This time, though, Tracy’s eyes narrowed as she studied Bobbi’s face. It’s for real. Come on. Take my hand. As if she expected a trap to snap shut, Tracy slowly, cautiously reached out and folded her hand around Bobbi’s.

  “I don’t think we can be friends,” Tracy said, withdrawing her hand.

  “Can anyone be your friend?”

  Tracy turned and got in her car, and quickly pulled away, leaving Bobbi standing in the church parking lot. Suddenly lightheaded, Bobbi put a hand on the nearest car to steady herself. Then she eased down to the parking block in Tracy’s spot. “I don’t think I did that just right, God. Please tell me You give credit for trying.”

  Tracy gripped the steering wheel with her left hand, so she could wipe her palm on her slacks. “What did Mrs. Dad want?” Jack asked.

  Tracy quickly switched hands. “Oh, uh, she ... she said she was very proud of you for getting baptized and congratulations.”

  “She could have told me that herself,” Jack muttered.

  “You know how grown-ups are sometimes.”

  “Very hard to understand,” Jack answered. “Did you like church? And Mister Pastor Glen?”

  “Jack, I still have that headache. Can we talk about this later?”

  “Okay, can we get pizza for lunch?”

  “Sure.” Tracy hoped that would satisfy him, and he would give her a little quiet. In the rearview mirror, she could still see a corner of Preston Road Community Church. What just happened? She blew out a long deep breath. Bobbi Molinsky, Chuck’s wife, for crying out loud, had just apologized ... to her. ‘I’ve treated you horribly,’ she'd said. It made no sense.

  It was fake. It had to be. Tracy sat up straighter in her seat, and pushed her hair behind her ear. That kind of forgiveness wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be.

  She rolled to a stop at a red light. No one else heard the conversation. She could deny it ever happened. No apology. No handshake. Bobbi didn’t gain anything. But she risked everything.

  “Jack, what was that Bible verse you learned again?”

  “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” He grinned. “I still remember it.”

  “I’m impressed.” How could the truth set her free? The truth made her want to crawl in a h
ole and die.

  Bobbi threaded her way through the exiting crowd to her family still waiting in the church sanctuary. Chuck nudged Shannon’s shoulder. “See, I told you Mommy would be right back.”

  “Sorry to make you wait.” Bobbi reached for Shannon’s hand, and blinked slowly at Chuck, hoping he would figure out that things had not gone so well.

  “See what I drew during church.” Shannon waved a sheet of manila paper with a crayon drawing of the woman at the well. “It’s that woman.”

  “Looks just like her,” Bobbi said, and Shannon beamed.

  Chuck picked up their Bibles, and took Shannon’s other hand. “Let’s take Mommy out to lunch.”

  “Can I pick?” Shannon asked.

  “Depends,” Chuck said. “Where do you want to go?”

  “For pizza!”

  Chuck looked at Bobbi for a ruling. “I don’t care. Pizza’s fine.”

  Chuck reached for her hand once they pulled out of the church parking lot. “So did you get some fresh air?”

  “Not nearly enough,” Bobbi answered. “I needed more time, but a storm was about to blow through, so I gave up.”

  “Have you seen a forecast?”

  “I wouldn’t trust any predictions right now. The atmosphere is too unstable.”

  “Hmmm. I thought things were lining out, settling down.”

  “Nature is hard to change, Chuck.” Especially if that nature is distant, defensive, and paranoid. Maybe she shouldn’t have made the apology yet. Maybe she should’ve stretched the conversation over several meetings. That had to be it. She overwhelmed Tracy and spooked her. Now it was anyone’s guess when she might have the chance to try again.

  Chuck turned into the parking lot for the pizzeria, and Bobbi saw a glint of reflected sunlight. Parked on the opposite side, away from any other cars was Tracy’s gleaming Lexus. “We’ll go somewhere else,” Chuck said quietly.

  “No,” Bobbi said. “I’m okay. She’s running from me now.”

  Chuck shook his head and smiled. “You must have had some Bible study last night.”

  The seating area of the restaurant was L-shaped, with half of the booths and tables in the front part, and the remaining seats around the corner in a recently added section. The Molinskys quickly found a booth in the front section. Chuck scanned the room before sitting down. “They must be in the back,” he said to Bobbi.

  “Who?” Shannon asked.

  “We recognized a car in the parking lot, and I was looking for the folks who own it,” Chuck answered.

  “Go ahead and get your salad,” Bobbi said. “I’ll stay with Shannon.” Her eyes said, ‘You deal with her.’

  Resisting the impulse to locate Tracy, he picked up a plate, and worked his way down the salad bar.

  “Your wife is something else.” Tracy prevented him from taking another step forward.

  “Hello to you too,” Chuck said, dropping a cherry tomato onto his plate. “But yes, she is something else.”

  “Did you send her out to talk to me?”

  “No. I don’t even know what she said.”

  “Then why did you follow me here?”

  “Shannon chose the restaurant.” He continued adding whatever he could reach to his plate. Banana peppers, black olives, diced ham. “You’re upset because Glen nailed you. You’ve tried to argue with God about everybody else’s sins, and you think you’re too far gone for redemption. You don’t have any idea how to sort it all out, and you’re afraid to ask anybody to explain it to you.”

  “Do you know how much I hate you?”

  “You don’t hate me.” Chuck made eye contact with her for the first time. “I’m the only person you trust, or else you wouldn’t keep coming back.” He set his plate down on the salad bar. “Quit fighting, quit running.”

  Tracy looked away and smiled slightly. “It’s all I know, Chuck.”

  Thursday, October 18

  Chuck led his wife to the bench outside Judge Swift’s conference room. “Did you back off your requests any?” Bobbi asked, checking her watch.

  “I thought about it, but didn’t.”

  “You asked for equal time?”

  “Yep.”

  “This could get ugly.”

  Bobbi had a point. Tracy was due for another Mr. Hyde episode, and questions about Jack seemed to make her belligerent, but it had been a month since she’d stormed out of the meeting with the caseworker, and a lot had happened since then.

  At two o’clock on the dot, Judge Swift opened the door to the conference room. “Mr. and Mrs. Molinsky, come in. Ms. Ravenna has been delayed.” Bobbi looked at him, but he had no answers. As soon as they took their seats, Judge Swift opened her folder. “I think you’ll be pleased with the arrangement, Mr. Molinsky.”

  Chuck took the packet of papers and slipped his glasses on. “Your Honor, I think there’s been a mistake. This is the plan I turned in.”

  “And that’s the final arrangement,” Judge Swift answered.

  “She gave in on everything?”

  “Ms. Houser assured me that this was the arrangement that you and Ms. Ravenna settled on. It will go into effect November first, which will give you some time to prepare. Until then you’ll stick to the Wednesdays and alternate weekend plan. We’ll review it after six months, and a year. After that, you or Ms. Ravenna will have to request a review. Any questions?”

  “She can’t contest this?”

  “Not for six months.”

  “What if she doesn’t cooperate?”

  The judge looked at him over the top of her glasses. “Custodial interference is a crime, Mr. Molinsky, and I, for one, will see that it’s prosecuted.”

  Chuck reordered the papers, and looked up at the judge. “I’m satisfied.”

  “I thought you would be. It was very gratifying to see this desire to be equally involved in your son’s upbringing. Jack will certainly benefit from it.”

  “That’s my primary concern,” Chuck said.

  “If there’s nothing else, that’s your copy of the arrangement. Make sure you sign the recorder’s documentation before you go.” She stood and reached across the table to shake Chuck’s hand and then Bobbi’s hand. “Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Molinsky.”

  “Thank you,” Chuck said. He and Bobbi left the conference room, stopping to sign the required forms before leaving the courthouse. “She just gave me Jack.”

  “Did she say anything yesterday when you took Jack home?”

  “Just thanks and good night.” Chuck held out the parenting plan. “I don’t get it.”

  “When’s her dad’s parole hearing? Maybe that figured into it. Maybe she feels Jack will be safer if he’s with you more.”

  “Maybe ...”

  “Do you really think her dad is going to come looking for her?”

  “Right now, I don’t know what to think.”

  CHAPTER 23

  RELEASE

  Friday, October 19

  After the no show at court, seeing Tracy’s car parked in the driveway didn’t reassure Chuck as much as he’d hoped. She wouldn’t answer her phone, and Chuck feared today had been another binge day.

  “Dad!” Jack Ravenna said, opening his front door. “You’re early! I’ll get my stuff!”

  “Hold up. I need to talk to your mom just a minute.” Chuck stepped inside the door and watched with a smile as Jack ran through the house calling for his mother.

  “She’ll be right here,” Jack said when he returned. “I’m gonna watch TV. Grown-ups always talk longer than they say they will. Don’t leave without me.”

  “Not a chance,” Chuck said as Jack skipped back toward the TV room. While Chuck waited, he surveyed the kitchen and living room, the only rooms he could see from the entryway. Nothing looked out of place. Maybe he was overreacting.

  “Jack said you wanted to talk to me?” Tracy came from upstairs, dressed in a tailored gray suit, and burgundy blouse.

  “I was a little concerned when you didn’t show up at cour
t yesterday, and I wanted to talk to you about the arrangement.”

  Before Tracy could answer, her phone rang. “Excuse me.” She crossed the living room and picked up the handset. “Hello?” She looked Chuck in the eyes, nodding for him to stay. The longer Tracy held the phone, the paler she became. Then her eyes rolled back in her head, the cordless phone receiver crashed to the floor, and she crumpled in a heap by the sofa.

  “Tracy!” Chuck lunged in a futile attempt to catch her. “Come on now.” He gently shook her by the shoulders. “Don’t do this.” He pressed her neck, trying to find a pulse.

  Jack ran in from the back of the house. “What was that sound? Mom!”

  “She’s okay, Jack. She just fainted.” He hoped that’s all it was.

  Jack laid his face against Tracy’s. “Mom, you’re scaring me!” He looked up at Chuck. “She’s breathing.”

  Tracy moaned quietly.

  “We need an ambulance,” Jack said. “I know how to call.”

  “Jack?” Tracy said in a weak, dreamy voice. She rubbed her temple, and slowly opened her eyes. She blinked several times, squinted and sighed. “I passed out?”

  “You did,” Chuck said. “Do you feel like sitting up?”

  She took his hand and pulled herself up, so she could lean against the couch. “I think, I, uh ...” She rubbed the back of her head. “I think I hit ...”

  “Jack, why don’t you go get your mom a Coke or some juice? That will help her feel better.”

  “Okay!” Jack jumped over his mother’s legs and rushed off to the kitchen.

  “The phone.” Tracy pulled her knees closer. “John ... It was John Dailey. He’s out.”

  “I gathered. Let me get somebody to stay with you.”

  “No.”

  “I don’t think you should be by yourself right now.”

 

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