A Family Reunited

by Jennifer Johnson

  “But it can land you in the hospital.” Karen pulled out her wallet and handed Jack a photo. “That was me in high school.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows at the picture of a teenager double Karen’s size.

  “I was fifteen years old and a borderline diabetic.”

  Jack handed the picture back to her. “What did you do?”

  She pointed to both of them. “Just like you two, I surrendered to the Lord. Then I got some help from a dietician, joined a gym with an accountability partner and worked with a vengeance to get healthy.”

  A woman with long brown hair pulled back in a braid walked up to the table to take their orders. Jack had planned to get the cheeseburger and fries, then thought of the apostle Paul’s admonition to never be a stumbling block to a brother or sister. He handed the menu to the waitress. “I’ll take the chicken salad and a regular soft drink.”

  When the woman walked away, Karen shook her head. “Jack, you could have ordered the burger you said you wanted when we pulled up.”

  “Would you have ordered a beer in front of Owen and me?”

  Owen chortled and pointed to his wife. “She’s never even touched the stuff.”

  She looked from Owen back to Jack. “No. I wouldn’t.”

  “Which is why I didn’t get the cheeseburger.”

  Owen draped his arm over Karen’s shoulder. “And why I don’t get the cheeseburger—” he pointed toward Jack “—unless I’m with someone like this guy.”

  Karen wrinkled her nose. “Encouragement feels good.” Wyatt squalled, and she handed him another cracker. “I’m glad you’ve moved back here, Jack. You and Owen will be good for each other.”

  The front door of the restaurant opened, and Pamela and their daughters walked in, followed by Mike, Tammie, Kirk and Callie. Jack’s heart raced at the sight of his girls. Emma was so tall, and he could see Emmy’s dimples from across the room as she laughed at something Kirk said.

  They didn’t see him, and Jack contemplated whether he should wave or simply watch. When the hostess seated them on the other side of the diner, he decided to watch. Emmy sat with her back to him, but Emma sat beside her mother, facing him. He couldn’t believe how much alike they looked. It was like seeing Pamela in elementary school all over again.

  Someone said something, and they all laughed. Jack bit his lip, wishing he could go over there. Maybe he should. It wouldn’t be so bad. He had the right to see his daughters.

  “Don’t do it, man.”

  Jack blinked, his thoughts focusing again on the people in front of him. He looked at Owen and furrowed his brows. “What?”

  Owen glanced over his shoulder. “Not yet. You gotta talk with Pamela first.”

  “The girls might not even know you’re in Tennessee,” added Karen.

  Pamela looked his way. Their gazes locked. At first her expression lifted, and he thought she might smile. Then she squinted and a scowl marked her face. She stood and walked toward the restrooms. Jack stood, as well.

  “Man, don’t.”

  Jack glanced down at Owen. “I think she wants me to follow her.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s—”

  Jack didn’t wait for Karen to finish her sentence. He walked to the back of the diner and waited outside the ladies’ restroom. Pamela opened the door. Anger and bitterness filled her face in a way he’d never seen. She spat through gritted teeth, “If we’d known you were here, we wouldn’t have come.”

  Somehow he had to make her see he was a different man. That he’d never again hurt her or the girls. That God controlled his life, not the bottle.

  He thought of the conversation with Owen and Karen from only moments ago. For the rest of his life, he’d battle the bottle, but each day he stayed surrendered to God the temptation weakened. And Pamela and the girls could be additional encouragement. “Pamela, I—”

  “Jack, you’re not listening.” She pointed to her ear. “I don’t care what you have to say. My own parents want me to talk to you, but I don’t care.”

  His heart skipped when he heard Mike and Tammie had been talking to her, that they wanted to give him a second chance.

  “I’m different. I want you. I want—”

  She lifted her hand. “You have no right to want me.” She crossed her hands in front of her chest, then swiped them to each side. “None.”

  Bitter contempt radiated from her with such certainty, he took a step back. He loved Pamela. He wanted her as his wife again, but he’d have to start with the girls. She had to listen to him at least on that account. Any judge would side with him if he paid child support and stayed sober, and he had every intention of doing both. “The girls. I have the right to see them.”

  “You have no right. And if you step one foot toward our table, I will scoop up my children and walk out of this restaurant.”

  He felt as if he’d been punched in the gut as she stomped back toward the table. He heard Emmy ask her what was wrong. Pamela plastered a smile on her face. Sadness swallowed him as he shoved both fists in his jeans pockets. He could follow her, introduce himself to his daughters and demand the right to spend time with them, but that would put a rip between Pamela and him that might never be mended. God, what do I do?

  * * *

  Pamela balled her fists and pressed her knuckles against the kitchen counter. She’d spent the past half hour arguing with her parents about Jack. He was the alcoholic who’d left her alone with two daughters, so why was she the bad guy?

  The memory of that night eight years ago swept over her. Jack’s eyes, bloodshot and glassy, peered at her with malice that sent tremors of fear down her spine.

  Emma had been sick, throwing up all over the place, and Pamela was only a few months pregnant with Emmy. The smell and sight of Emma’s vomit sent Pamela to the bathroom. Jack was left to clean up after their daughter. Disoriented, he slipped and fell in the mess. He’d been angry. Cursed. Jumped up. Pulled back his hand at the toddler. Pamela screamed before he could act, and his fury focused on her.

  For a long moment, time stood still. He wanted to hit her. The desire was etched in every muscle in his face. Somehow she mustered the courage to tell him to leave the house. He’d grabbed a few things, and that was it. He was gone. And he didn’t even try to come back.

  Pamela sucked in a deep breath, lifted her chin and peered up at the ceiling. But I’m the bad guy because I don’t want to give him a second chance. Her parents hadn’t been there that night. They hadn’t seen the look in his eyes.

  It was true he’d never hit her or Emma, and deep in Pamela’s gut, she knew her parents would never consider taking a chance if he’d abused them. She remembered the night when Emmy was a newborn and Emma wouldn’t sleep. Pamela had been so tired and sore that she’d come close to lashing out at Emma, but she hadn’t. She’d stopped herself, just as Jack had stopped.

  I’ve changed. His words echoed through her mind. She’d loved him with every ounce of her being. When he wasn’t drinking, he’d been all she’d dreamed. They’d prayed together, studied God’s word together, vowed to live their lives for Him. A lot of good that did.

  She pushed away from the counter and raked her fingers through her hair. She needed a trim. After talking with the girls about their dad, she’d need some pampering time.

  He has the legal right to see his children. Her father’s words pricked her mind. And a judge won’t turn him down if he’s sending money, as well. Her mom had piped in.

  Ugh. How it infuriated her that she had to have this conversation with her girls. He’d walked out of their lives, and she and the girls had done well, were doing well, and then he up and decided to traipse back to Bloom Hollow, sober and ready to reconcile. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be able to flip their lives upside down whenever he saw fit.

  Quit stalling. Just g
et it over with.

  She walked into the living room. Emmy sat on the floor with her favorite panda bear propped against the couch. She’d folded several papers in half and was illustrating a book she’d written. Emma was sprawled on the couch playing a game on the iPad. Pamela settled into her favorite leather recliner. “Girls, I need to talk with you.”

  “Give me a sec,” said Emma.

  Pamela didn’t mind. She’d give them as long as they wanted. Emma feverishly pressed the tablet’s screen. Emmy put the finishing touch on a purple-and-green critter she’d created.

  Emmy lifted the paper. “This is my main character, Albie. Do you like him?”

  Pamela grinned and nodded at her younger daughter. The child loved learning about writing, something Pamela never understood. Numbers made sense. They formed patterns. They were definite. Writing, not so much.

  “’Kay. I’m done.” Emma set the tablet in her lap and sat up straighter on the couch.

  Pamela clasped her hands together. “Well, I need to talk to you both.”

  Emma clicked her tongue. “You already said that.”

  Pamela peered at her older child. Only nine and already Emma tried to retort with smart-aleck comments. To Emma’s credit, she ducked her chin and appeared repentant under Pamela’s glare. “It’s about your dad.”

  “Our dad?” Emmy furrowed her brows.

  “You never talk about our dad,” said Emma.

  “I saw a picture of him once.” Emmy sat up straighter. “In one of Grandma’s photo albums. He was holding Emma and looking at her with goofy eyes.” Her face fell. “But I didn’t see one with me.”

  “That’s ’cause he left before you were born,” Emma snapped.

  “I know,” Emmy retorted. “Grandma told me, and—”

  Pamela lifted her hand. “Enough. He lives in Tennessee again and wants to meet you.”

  Emmy’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Do we have to?” Emma pursed her lips together and frowned.

  Pamela studied her older daughter. She looked angrier than Pamela had expected. “I’m not sure, and I don’t know how I feel about it, and—”

  “I want to meet him, Mom.” Emmy stood up, then hopped into Pamela’s lap. “I always wanted a mom and dad just like my friends. I mean, Sarah only has a mom like me, but...”

  Without a word, Emma wiped a single tear from her cheek, stood and walked to her room. Her child’s bitterness cut like a dagger through Pamela’s heart. She traced her fingers through Emmy’s hair as the girl continued to prattle on about the various students in her class. But worry niggled at Pamela’s heart for Emma. How long had her girl been in such pain, and why hadn’t she noticed?

  Chapter 6

  Jack waited in the small office space at The Refuge while the health inspector checked the kitchen. If the shelter passed, they could open the doors the following week. He thumbed through the list of people from Faith Church who had signed up as volunteers, hoping to call them in the next few days to set up schedules.

  The front door opened, and Teresa walked in. Jack worried the inside of his mouth. She was a pretty woman, dark hair, dark eyes, had a nice personality. But he didn’t feel comfortable when she showed up at the center and he was alone. He didn’t want people to get the wrong impression. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. This time the health inspector was there, but he would be leaving.

  Jack forced a smile to his lips. “Good afternoon, Teresa.”

  A blush spread across her cheeks, and Jack wished he knew how to make her understand his interest rested in his wife and daughters. Even if Pamela looks ready to wring my neck each time she sees me.

  She twisted the gold stud earring in her earlobe. “I just stopped by on my lunch break to see what the health inspector said.”

  Jack held back a sigh of relief. If she was on a break, she wouldn’t be able to stay long. He pointed toward the kitchen area. “He’s still here. Been here awhile, so I assume we’ll know soon.”

  “Oh.” She clasped her hands. “I figured he’d be gone. I mean, I’d planned to see if you wanted to grab some lunch, but I don’t have a lot of time, and—”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” He lifted his left hand and pointed to his wedding band. “I’m married, and I wouldn’t want—”

  “I know, but...” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “I love my wife, and I won’t do anything to make her think otherwise.”

  Teresa started to say something, then clamped her lips shut. In one swift movement, she turned on her heels and walked out the door. Jack grinned. He did love his wife, and he was committed to winning her back.

  The inspector walked out of the kitchen. “Everything looks great. You and the church have done a good job getting this old place back in working order. I’ll email the papers to you, and you can open for business whenever you’re ready.”

  Jack gripped the burly man’s hand. “That’s terrific. Thanks for your help.”

  After guiding the inspector out of the shelter, Jack pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Jermaine. A deep “hello” boomed over the line, and Jack was surprised at how much he missed his longtime mentor and friend. “It’s Jack.”

  “Jack!” Jermaine’s laugh vibrated. “It’s good to hear from you, son. How are things?”

  “The Refuge just passed its last inspection. I can open for business next week.”

  “Praise the Lord. What a blessing!”

  Jack heard Stella’s “hallelujah” in the background, and he knew she was listening to their conversation. He missed getting his hand slapped for sampling one of her dishes before they were ready to serve to their homeless guests.

  “How are things with Pamela and the girls?”

  Jack frowned. “Not good. She hasn’t let me meet them yet, and she won’t talk to me.”

  Jermaine’s voice deepened. “Give her some time.”

  “I’m trying, but I want to see my girls. I want to talk to them. They’re my children, too.”

  “If you go at your wife saying those words, you’ll never get her back. Gotta let God do His work.”

  Jack let out a slow breath. He could recall the number of times Jermaine had said that. When the shelter ran out of food with over a week before funds became available again. When one of the ovens busted, and the shelter had no money to fix it. Gotta let God do His work always slipped from Jermaine’s lips. And every time, God took care of them.

  “You’re right. Just keep praying for us.”

  “Every day,” said Jermaine.

  “Every day,” echoed Stella.

  Jack grinned. “And give Stella a kiss for me. Tell her I miss her.”

  He heard the huff and knew Stella had swatted the air and walked out of the room. Jack chuckled. “I appreciate you, Jermaine.”

  “I know you do. Hang in there.”

  “I will.”

  After saying goodbye, Jack shoved his phone back in his jeans pocket. He grabbed the car keys off the desk. He couldn’t wait to tell Pastor Mark they could open the doors on Monday.

  * * *

  Pamela shoved the graded test into the folder. She’d studied for hours for that exam and still failed. She wasn’t surprised by the results. The test had been ridiculous. It didn’t show whether she understood the material in the book. Instead, Dr. Mays seemed to take whatever section suited his fancy and wanted the students to spit back exact phrases from the text. How did that prove she’d learned anything? It only showed she could memorize. Which obviously she was not able to do, considering she’d gotten a big fat F on the test.

  Dr. Mays hadn’t even stayed around after class long enough to allow her to talk with him about her grade. She wasn’t the only one
struggling, and she assumed he simply wanted to get away from the mass of questions. Yanking her calculator out of the bag, she crunched numbers for upcoming assignments. The best she could get in the class now was a B, and that was highly unlikely given her track record of grades on his assignments. God, what am I gonna do?

  The thought slipped from her mind, and she shook her head. No sense petitioning Him. God had proven time and again that she was living life on her own. He’d even upped the drama by sticking Jack back in her world.

  I gotta get a B, or I’ll lose my scholarship. She’d worked hard the first year of college to earn the academic scholarship, but her grades had to stay at a certain grade point average in order to keep it.

  After shoving the calculator, book and folder in her bag, she got up from the desk. She’d have to email the professor later, ask what she could do to help her grade. Taking a deep breath, she raked her hand through her hair. I’ve got a more pressing situation to deal with first.

  She hefted the bag and her purse onto her shoulder. Her gut twisted with humiliation. She’d had to cash Jack’s check. Her car had been on its last leg for a year, and a few days ago the transmission had finally croaked. Before class started she’d secured a ride to go pick it up. A ride from Dr. Peter Dane.

  Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as she walked out the classroom door and spied her former professor leaning against the doorjamb of his classroom, his gaze trained on the paper in his hand. The guy was simply too cute. And she’d practically jumped out of her skin when he’d offered to drop her off at the mechanic’s shop after overhearing her tell her mom on the phone that she needed a ride.

  “Hi.” The single word slipped through her lips, sounding more breathless than she’d intended. Her heart flipped when he looked up at her and smiled.

  “Hey. You ready to go?”

  He jangled the keys in his hands, and Pamela nodded. For the briefest of moments she felt wrong, like she was cheating on Jack. She blew out a breath as she followed Peter to his car. A girl can’t cheat on a guy who left her pregnant and penniless years ago.

  Her purse seemed heavier when she thought of the large sum of money she’d put in the bank that morning. Her parents’ insistence that she give Jack a chance hammered at her mind. He didn’t deserve a chance.