The Edge of Mercy

by Heidi Chiavaroli

  Mary rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know what to make of all this.”

  “Read the journal,” I said. “Stick around and go through your Mom’s stuff for a couple days. Maybe then things will be clearer.”

  She rocked, her tennis shoes pushing off the floorboards of the porch. “Okay, I’ll try. Ms. Rodrigues, you sure are different than I thought.”

  “I think . . . I think I’ve changed a lot, too.”

  Kyle and Matt and I slowly eased back into family life at the rehabilitation center. We brought Kyle pizza, and his spirits lifted when he heard that Matt rented a house in town, less than ten minutes from our home.

  “The physical therapist says I’ll be back to running in another month. I might not be first on the team for cross, but I’m going to train over the winter for track. She says I’ll be good as new by spring.”

  “That’s great,” I said, juicy pepperoni bursting on my tongue.

  “Big man on campus this year. Can’t believe you’re a senior.” Matt studied Kyle, pride lining his face.

  There was something different between them. The fissure closed. Matt had told me on the phone last night that they’d had a good talk that day. He hinted there’d been confessions and apologies and more than a few tears.

  I woke with nervous excitement each morning at the prospect of restoring our marriage and our family. I also woke with doubts. Doubts over whether I’d ever be able to trust Matt again. Doubts if I’d ever be able to enjoy his touch without thinking of his betrayal.

  We said good night to Kyle and left the rehabilitation center together. He opened the driver’s side door of the Mercedes for me.

  “I’ll call you in half an hour?” We’d fallen into a comfortable ritual of nightly phone calls.

  “Sure.”

  He pecked me on the cheek and walked to his truck.

  I went home, took a shower, printed out the last entry of Elizabeth’s story for my own copy, and snuggled into our king-size bed, the phone by my side.

  Mary had been next door longer than three days, and I started to worry. Was her heart softening toward Barb at all?

  My stomach jumped when the phone rang, and for a moment I felt like we were dating again. Only our conversations these days were more than getting to know each other, though there was a sense of that too.

  “Can I come home yet?” Matt’s husky voice came over the line five minutes after we’d greeted one another.

  “We have to talk about her at some point, you know.”

  A long sigh. “I know.”

  “You ready?”

  “Tell me what you want to know.”

  Man, this would hurt. But I needed to know, I needed to hear it from his lips.

  “You slept with her, right?”

  A muffled sound. I felt the temptation for my husband to lie, to tell me what I wanted to hear to make things easier. But I knew him. I knew the truth before I even asked. We just needed to get it out into the open.

  “Yes.”

  The word drilled into my being. Knowing the truth and hearing it from him were two different things.

  Renewed anger bubbled up inside me, threatening to tear me at the seams. Unwanted images came to my mind’s eye. “Was she good, Matt? Experienced, I’m sure, hot young thing. Nothing like your homely wife you’ve been with for—”

  “Sarah—”

  I hung up the phone and flung it across the bedspread. I huddled deeper into the covers and let my tears wet the pillow.

  This wasn’t worth it. I didn’t see a way out of the maze of hurt Matt produced in his admission. Maybe it would have been better if he’d lied. I may not have believed him, but at least I could have tried.

  The bedspread muffled the ring of the phone. I thought about ignoring it, sleeping on my hurt, hoping it would numb with slumber.

  But I claimed I wanted to work on our marriage. And now when the labor presented itself, would I walk away?

  I scooped up the phone and clicked it on without saying hello.

  “Sarah, I’m sorry. You don’t know how much I wish I could take back what I did. Over and over, I want to turn back time.”

  “How am I supposed to live with this? How can I even hope to compete with her?”

  “There’s no competition,” he said.

  “Don’t lie to make me—”

  “Doggone Sarah, it’s true. When I was with Cassie it was new and hot, I’ll admit that. But it wasn’t real. It was shallow. It wasn’t what we had. Have. Sarah, there’s always been electricity between us. But there’s something else, something more. I didn’t realize it until I didn’t have it. I can’t even describe it. You own my heart.”

  His words softened the hurt. Just a little. I let them sink in for a long moment of uninterrupted silence. I knew what he meant. We’d been bound together for years. We’d shared too much together. We couldn’t just walk away from the love we had.

  “You still there?” he said.

  “What changed your mind about her?”

  “You know how you used to listen to me when we first dated? You stood by me and my stupid, crazy ideas. When I talked to her, it was like an evaluation. Like she was taking what I said and trying to assess how she could change me to her liking. I began to realize it after I drew up the divorce petition. Then when Kyle had his accident, I realized the extent of her selfishness. All I could see was you all these years putting your dreams on hold for me, putting me and Kyle before every other thing you did, every decision you made. I was ashamed. I thought providing for you was enough, but I never supported you like you did me. I’m sorry.” He dragged in a quivering breath. My eyes burned. “I want that to change, Sarah. I want to change. You should go after your dreams—go back to school. You should have a long time ago. I never should have discouraged you. I should have believed in you, like you did me.”

  I bit my bottom lip until I felt a two-teeth indent. “Thank you.” Silence. “What happened the night of Kyle’s accident?”

  “Getting all the tough questions out tonight, huh?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

  “I’d told her I wasn’t going to see her that weekend. I wanted it to be just me and Kyle. I thought we could make amends before he went back to school.

  “We were about to head to the golf course when she called. She asked me to come to the house, said her parents were real excited about some new ideas for the fall.” I heard him swallow over the phone. “I should have said no. I knew she was jealous of Kyle—crazy, huh? How could I think I loved a woman who’s jealous of my own son? Anyway, I told Kyle I’d be back in half an hour. I asked him if he wanted to come, but he was mad. He said he’d wait. When I wasn’t back in half an hour he took the bike. It was a stupid thing for him to do, but not stupider than any of the other crappy decisions his father made the past few months. He wanted my attention. Well, he got it.”

  I wondered how things would be between Matt and me had Kyle not survived. “This can’t be about penance, Matt. Us fixing our marriage. You get that, right? It’s not like going to confession and saying a bunch of Our Fathers and Hail Marys.”

  “I want to fix our marriage, Sarah. Believe me. It’s not about guilt, though I’m sure there’s enough of that on my shoulders now as well.”

  My hand grew sweaty around the phone. “While we’re confessing . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have to tell you I did get close to Pete while you were away.”

  “Okay.” His voice sounded strained and heavy. “How close?”

  “More emotionally close than physically, although I did kiss him.”

  I heard Matt grinding his teeth over the line. “Ever think how different your life would be with someone like him?”

  Definitely the night for tough honesty. “Yes. But I think I know what you mean when you said it wasn’t the same with Cassie. You are my husband.”

  He sniffed hard into the phone and I could tell he tried to keep his emotions in check. “And y
ou are my wife . . .”

  More silence. We spent just as much time between confessions as we did talking. We both needed time, time with one another being quiet. Time to process all we told the other.

  I was the one to break it this time. “One good thing might have come out of my time with Pete, though.”

  “What’s that?” Again, hesitant.

  “My game of golf.”

  “You golfed with him? Talk about betrayal.”

  I laughed. “I went to the range after you made that cruel joke about me not knowing the difference between an iron and driver at your employee dinner. He happened to be at the range.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I suppose I supported you all these years in your business, but I was stubborn when it came to how to spend our time. I didn’t even try to like golf. Or motorcycles. Or sailing. I want that to change. I want to get past my fears. I’ve already been praying about it. And I want you to help me.”

  “Well, I think I’m done with motorcycles if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure. But maybe next time you and Kyle head to the golf course, you’ll invite me along?”

  “No doubting it. I’ll teach you everything that doctor didn’t.” His voice sounded hoarse again, and I knew I hurt him, too. My betrayal may not have been as extensive, but unfaithfulness hurt—no matter how it was cut.

  “I’m sorry, Matt.”

  “You don’t have to apologize—”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “I forgive you,” he said. “Do you—can you think about forgiving me?”

  I opened my mouth to reciprocate the grace, but my tongue felt dry. “I’m getting there.”

  It was something.

  Chapter 36

  I snapped a lid onto my salad and put it in the refrigerator for my lunch the next day. I would work in the morning, then go to Kyle and begin talking to the staff about his transition home.

  Home.

  Matt and I continued our nightly talks. They got easier. Like a bad paper cut in the crook of one’s finger, each bend hurt less and less. I could see a path ahead for us. Not an easy one, but one bright with hope.

  The doorbell rang and I went to it, surprised to see Mary on the other side. We hadn’t seen one another since our first meeting, but I often saw her rental car coming and going from the drive, so I knew she was around. I’d wanted to give her space and time to think. I prayed that God would work in the mess.

  “Hey.”

  She stood on my porch looking smaller than I remembered. “Hey.”

  “Would you like to come in? I could fix us some coffee or tea.”

  “I’ll come in, but no need for coffee. Thank you.”

  She stepped inside and I led her to the living room, where we sat. Beside us, the grandfather clock punctuated the silence.

  “I’ve been trying,” she started.

  I nodded, as if to prod her onward.

  “I read the journal, along with some letters Mom and Dad wrote each other when they were dating. I even went to her church if you can believe that. I think . . . I think I’m beginning to see some things.”

  I didn’t want to push her. It wasn’t my place.

  “I have to tell you that I resented Mom’s religion most of my life. It just seemed like a way to prove herself to God, prove herself to herself.”

  I nodded, understanding probably more than she knew.

  “And I think that is how my mother thought. But you know, reading about Elizabeth . . . about Caleb pursuing her . . . I had this odd . . . thought. Like maybe that’s what God does. Pursue us.”

  I smiled.

  Mary laughed. “Yeah, I could be way off.”

  “I—I don’t think you are,” I whispered. I was coming to see that God did want our hearts. Maybe He even pursued us. Even when we were rebels, like Elizabeth.

  Mary smiled, and I noticed a peace about her I hadn’t seen the other day.

  “Never thought I’d be talking about God with a near stranger, much less my Mom’s neighbor.”

  We laughed.

  Mary stood, seeming uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I’m a long way from forgiving everything, but I’m glad I came. I’m glad we talked.” She wiped her hands on her jeans. “I don’t feel right taking the house. Mom said she wanted you to have it, so I think that’s how it should be.”

  I swallowed. “I understand, but I’m going to sell it. I simply don’t need two houses. . . .” Out of nowhere, an idea came to me so swift and perfect, I felt Barb herself had plucked it out of thin air and sent it to me. “Wait . . . what if, after we sold it, we donated some of the proceeds to the historical society? Maybe we could have them publish Elizabeth’s story, maybe they could do something special surrounding the King Philip’s War, considering it started right here. That is, if they don’t have something already.”

  Mary nodded. “I think that would be fitting.” She held out her hand, and I grasped it.

  “I needed this closure, Sarah.” She looked off to the wall where the grandfather clock ticked steadily. “I wish I’d realized it sooner.”

  Barb’s daughter hugged me, and in that moment, with her warm arms around me, I felt I had completed Barb’s mission, and that if she could, she was smiling upon us from heaven.

  The following Tuesday Kyle and I heard the good news that he’d be released from rehab the next day. We called Matt to celebrate, and after I shared lunch with Kyle I left the center to purchase groceries.

  When I returned to the rehabilitation center, Kyle lay sleeping in bed and Matt sat hunched over something. My breaths stalled when I saw what he read.

  He looked up, his eyes clouded. They cleared after a moment and he nodded toward Kyle. “Kid’s getting lazy. Been sleeping for two hours.”

  I smiled. “You’re here early.”

  “I skipped out, wanted be with you guys on this day.” He pointed to a small boxed cake, half eaten. “There’s some left.”

  I put my purse down on one of the seats near Kyle’s bed and pointed at Elizabeth’s journal in Matt’s hands. I’d brought my copy several days ago because Kyle had asked. “You’ve been reading it?”

  “Yeah, when he sleeps or has an appointment, I’ve been working at it.” Matt wasn’t a big reader. I thought it strange that he would read instead of flip on the television. “Kyle said it meant a lot to you.”

  “How far did you get?”

  “Just finished it. Amazing. It’s real?”

  I nodded. A real person, just like us, who struggled with decisions of the heart. “You want to see the rock?”

  He didn’t hesitate. He put the journal on the table, scribbled Kyle a note, and we left the center, this time together, Matt driving.

  We pulled into the parking lot of the library, and I led Matt through the same woods Elizabeth walked more than three hundred years ago. Early autumn light filtered through the changing leaves. In a few weeks’ time they’d fall, burying the ground in crunchy, beautiful decay. I breathed in the scent of pine and earth.

  “It’s nice here,” Matt said. “I should have come before now.”

  I walked in silence, resisting the urge to move closer to him. I was scared that the images of his unfaithfulness would again fill my mind, scared we’d get caught up in one another before we’d healed enough.

  I broke away and continued on the large path up a slight hill. “You ready to talk about your father yet?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, stepped over a large root. His work boots landed on the other side. “Truth is, I don’t remember much about my dad, other than he left us to chase gold when I was young. ‘A regular old forty-niner,’ my mother always said.” He laughed with disgust. “Every week he had a new way of getting rich. If he only settled down and stuck with a job, he could have provided for us. We didn’t always live in the trailer park—we moved there after he skipped out. Strange thing is I didn’t blame him as much as I blamed my mom.”

  “How come?”

  “It hurt le
ss to have someone else to aim my anger at. I didn’t want to think I was the reason my dad left; I wanted to think it was all her. When she started bringing boyfriends around, when they drank too much and beat the crap out of me, well, it made it all the more easy.”

  “I’m sorry, Matt.”

  He shrugged. “It was really never about my father. I mean, yeah, he started the whole thing, but I don’t remember him ever being in the picture. I knew it wasn’t right though, just me, my mom, and her boyfriends. It made sense to put the fault with her.”

  “You still do.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Lorna loves you.”

  “I know. And it was crazy of me to expect perfection out of her. This summer has shown me that. I mean, she was a single mother working full-time. She made bad choices, but that’s something I know all about. I went to talk with her a few days ago.”

  I tried to hide my surprise. Matt went to see Lorna. Huge. Another hurdle in a long line of changes he seemed determined to make.

  “How’d it go?”

  “We talked a long time. We both apologized. We both forgave. It was . . . good.”

  “Good.”

  I pointed through the changing leaves where Abram’s Rock loomed ahead of us. “There it is.”

  Matt walked ahead of me, his hands in his pockets. “No kidding. Just how she described it. Crazy.”

  We poked around in the cave portion and when my foot slipped on a pile of old leaves, he caught me. We stared at one another, and a burst of something new filled my heart.

  Grief and sorrow clung to this rock, but so did hope. I knew Elizabeth’s story. She hadn’t given in to despair. She’d moved forward, chose to love. To believe. To have faith.

  I wanted the same.

  “Want to climb it?”

  I led Matt up the large hill to the right of the rock and we scaled the rocky steps until we reached the top. He held my hand as we looked down. A breeze swirled around us, sweeping up a burnt orange oak leaf and settling it on a long journey to the ground.

  “Poor Abram,” Matt said. “Think he met his God that day?”

  “I do. Through all this I think I have too.”