by Mae Nunn
“What?” He heard exactly what Ali said but didn’t want to make sense of what she was telling him.
“My father began crawling into my bed when I was ten years old. He threatened to go to my little sister if I refused him. What else could I do?”
“You mean he…” Ben couldn’t say the words.
“Yeah. Hard to believe a man would defile the very daughter God trusted him to love, isn’t it?” Fat tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, slid beneath her lashes and dribbled down her mud-streaked cheeks.
“So, now you know my dirty little secret. That’s the reason I could never be more to you than a paid employee. I don’t deserve anything better.”
A deep, deep sadness flooded Ben’s soul as he grasped what Ali was telling him.
And suddenly Ethan’s problems seemed small. He had family, friends, resources. He was loved and lovingly cared for in a world that held such low regard for the weak, for the least of these.
“I need some time to process what you’ve said. Will you please come back to the house with me?”
“Time won’t make any difference. Trust me on this.” She shook her head, wild strands of red wisped about her face. “I’ve used years of education and experience to try to make sense of what happened. I haven’t been able to understand it, but the past molded me into who I am today. I learned to accept the things I couldn’t change, as the Serenity Prayer says.”
“So that’s it. You’ve accepted defeat before you’ve even tried to make a go of it with us?”
She gave a resigned shake of her head.
“Benjamin, the progress you wanted so desperately is being accomplished between you and Ethan. You have everything you need to realize your dreams. I’d just be a burden you’d regret one day.”
She was dismissing him again, using the tragedy of her past to wave away the role she played in their lives as if it were smoke from a snuffed out candle. Well, he and Ethan would not be waved away.
“You know what I think, Doctor Stone? I think you’ve settled into analysis paralysis. You’ve created this safe little zone for yourself where you can rescue people, come and go through their lives, depending on the day of the week, and then move on without having to stick around for the long haul. And that’s not the heart of who you are. That’s not the person I’d want for my rock.”
Ali stood slowly as if the day’s work had increased the torque on all her muscles. She turned her face away and walked toward the edge of the park, not glancing back.
Simba came to her feet, nudged her long nose against Ben’s clasped hands and rested her head against his knee. He settled a palm gently behind her ears, felt the solid strength of her neck and knew if she wanted to take off a digit with her powerful jaws, she could. The animal shuddered with the force of her sigh, a sound that told him she felt his pain.
“Simba, come,” Ali called.
Simba’s dark eyes raked Ben’s face. She tossed her head, an invitation. He leaned down and accepted the rough touch of her tongue as it gently lapped his jaw, only once, a single kiss goodbye.
Ali hadn’t even done that.
He’d been afraid of the wrong female all along.
“Josie, what if he’s right?” Ali asked as she poured coffee into a smiley face mug. “What if I’ve been telling myself I’ve got things under control when the truth is I’ve been setting limits for years on how deeply I’m willing to get involved?”
She kept remembering the boy who’d taken his life. Had she failed him with her emotional distance? Then there were her Sunday Kids. Had she conveniently pigeon-holed the amount of help she could give them, accepting their futures as outside of her influence?
“Oh, that’s hogwash, boss. Look at me, will ya? If you hadn’t helped me get my GED and apply for nursing school, given me that job and let me bunk with you I’d still be on the streets. If that’s not getting involved I don’t know what is.
“And would it be so horrible if you did discover your feet stink like everybody else’s? That you’re not immune to weakness after all? Isn’t this what you psychotherapists call a breakthrough?”
Ali smiled as she settled on the other stool at her kitchen counter and set her mug on the granite surface.
“Good point, girlfriend.” Ali slipped an arm around Josie’s shoulders and gave a loving squeeze. “Nobody ever explained it quite that clearly in med school.”
“Hey, glad I could help.” Josie gave a humble nod before continuing. “You didn’t ask for my opinion, but I think you need to spend some time talking about this stuff with your little sister. Her childhood wasn’t as jacked up as yours but her memories could probably use some analysis, too. Just promise me you’ll pray about it, okay, boss?”
Once again Ali was taken aback by the good sense and maturity of this streetwise young woman who was working so hard to make something of her life. Maybe Erin could handle the whole truth after all. And in sharing that truth Ali would be releasing a burden she’d been carrying since she’d done the only thing she knew to protect her baby sister.
Maybe it was time for the role reversal to come full circle, to let the younger one be the stronger one.
“How did you get to be so smart, Josie?”
A wry chuckle set the stage for her honesty. “On the street it’s be smart or die. You can’t run from the truth, you can’t keep looking back all the time and you can’t depend just on yourself. You have to depend on God and sometimes a few other people who can help you see how this relationship thing gets all fouled up.
“Maybe God’s done the same for you, boss. Maybe He put the football star and his kid into your life to free you from leaning on your own understanding.”
Ali turned her face to the kitchen window. The sun was halfway to China, leaving the Texas sky black, bleak. She could consider Josie’s words until the morning light crept across the floor again and it wouldn’t change a thing. She still wasn’t worthy of a Congressman’s love.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ali was a survivor. She’d outlasted the nightmare that was her childhood and then a string of anything-but-loving foster homes. She’d come through eight years of study and struggle indebted to banks and teachers, but she’d made it.
She was also a natural caregiver, still hoped to be a mother someday. Ali believed her mission in life was to help others. Her professional door was always open and her work with West Texas Rescue took priority over personal interests. She knew her strengths and used them for the good of others.
Yet, in the past twenty-four hours the Holy Spirit had led her to a new discovery: all her experience, learning, activity and busyness had been an effective method for dodging the person who most needed honest attention.
Alison Stone.
She couldn’t change what had happened with Benjamin, but she would find a way to make use of the heartache she was feeling today. To turn this dreadful aloneness into something positive for the future, for what was left of her family.
Her feet were lead weights as she trudged the last fifty yards through the woods of Halfway Landing toward her destination. Her spirit was equally heavy from a sleepless night and the morning’s worship service spent in prayer instead of praise.
Father, let me truly open myself to those you place in my path today. Let me use this brokenness in my heart to relate to the needs of others. Don’t let me be alone, Lord. Send someone who can love me in my strength and my weakness.
Simba whined. She strained against the leash, unhappy at being tethered.
“I know,” Ali comforted. “You’re excited about seeing the Sunday Kids, but we’re a little early.”
The tugging intensified.
“Okay, you talked me into it.” Ali leaned down and unhooked the clasp. “We’re almost there anyway.”
Simba shot through the underbrush, dodging trees, a missile seeking her target.
Her deep barking echoed in the silent wood and Ali smiled for the first time that day. “I guess Lenny and the girls are
already here.”
Moments later Ali took the final turn into the makeshift clearing. The greeting she was about to shout lodged in her throat, became a painful silence. Only a stone’s throw away, an unexpected sight stole her breath and her heart.
Benjamin!
He was leaning against the fallen tree where she’d eaten her lunch a week earlier. Seated before him, Simba watched intently, studied the odd picture Benjamin made holding up the trembling hand signal for ‘sit.’ He repeated it over and over as if by doing so she’d continue to obey.
“How many times do you want her to sit?” Ali called.
“Just the once. How do I tell her to stay put?”
“Stop waving your arm and hold your palm in front of her face. She’ll understand.”
He followed instructions.
“Now motion toward the ground one time with your palm down.”
Simba rewarded him by dropping to her belly but remained alert for more signals.
As Ali got closer the progressive reddening of his face indicated he was holding his breath.
“You did great. Now breathe!”
He groaned along with the exhale as the pent-up carbon dioxide whooshed from his lungs, but he never took his gaze off Simba. “You sure she won’t run at me again?”
“I’ll protect you,” Ali teased as she reached his side.
Benjamin slipped an arm around her waist, pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair as he ran his other hand down the length of her back. Her arms drifted around his strong body, rested secure as if they were created for his embrace.
“I don’t think she ran at you in the first place,” Ali whispered. “If anything she ran to you. She’s learned to care for you.”
“How about you, Ali? Could you learn to care for me?”
She squeezed her eyelids, gripped him close. Hoped to get the words past her lips? Prayed he would welcome them?
“I’m way past that point, Benjamin,” she murmured. “I love you.”
He brought his hands to her face, tipped her head back and held her cheeks so she would look into eyes the color of heaven.
“Say it again,” his plea was desperate. “I need to hear it once more.”
“I love you,” she repeated. “I fell for you the night you cheated at Scrabble to help your son. I knew right then and there you were a man after my own heart.”
Benjamin lowered his face, pressed his cheek to hers. “Ali, honey, I adore you more than I ever thought possible. Please, please give us a chance to be a family.”
The words murmured against Ali’s neck sent shivers down her bare arms. She tightened her embrace, her hands pulling him closer. He wound his arms around her shoulders.
“You’re not repulsed by what I told you last night?”
“Of course I am, but not in the way you expected. I’m repulsed by what you endured at the hands of your father. I’m repulsed that we live in a world where that perversity is rampant. And I’m disgusted with myself for being so wrapped up in my own life that I failed to figure it all out on my own.”
She wanted to look up into his rugged face, but when she tried to step back his arms tightened.
“Don’t push me away, please,” his voice broke. “I love your courage and your spirit. I love your grubby boots, your dangly earrings, your freckles and even your dog. But mostly I love the woman you are, the purity of your heart. Say you’ll come home to Ethan and me.”
He kissed the top of her head, loosened his hold, allowed her to put an inch between them.
“Benjamin, tell me the truth. Is this about the two of us or the three of us?”
“Ali, I have a son so there will always be three of us. More if you want to bring some of your other Sunday Kids into our lives. But this—” he motioned back and forth with his hand “—this will always be just about the two of us. These last weeks have shown me I don’t need anything else to be complete.”
“What about the Congressional race?”
He shook his head, no trace of sadness in his face. “I called Randy, told him no go.”
“How’d he take it?”
Benjamin chuckled. “He blew a head gasket, called me everything but a friend of the family.”
“And you think that’s funny?” She couldn’t help wondering at Benjamin’s odd reaction.
“Ironic funny, yeah. But only because it confirmed what I’d suspected, that my good buddy tipped off the paper to send out that photographer. Randy thought he’d force my hand, show me how badly I wanted the public’s approval. But the truth is he always wanted this more than me.”
“But what about your family, their ambition for you? Is that all somebody else’s idea, too?”
“No, I still want to serve, that’s something I feel way down inside.” He patted his mid-section. “But I’ve been going about this all wrong, getting the cart before the horse.”
“How do you mean?”
Benjamin showed her by once again sliding his hands around her waist, lacing his fingers behind her back and rocking her gently while he gazed down, emotion gleaming in his eyes, shining from the depths of his spirit.
“Ali, my family name didn’t get me into the NFL. It took years of learning my sport before I was any good at it. Just like you, I had to study and practice and give myself to it heart, mind and body before I became a professional. I need to do the same with public service, if I want to be taken seriously. It was presumptuous of me to expect to start at the top instead of humbling myself as a true servant should. I want to be respected for the things I do today, not the game I played in another lifetime. That’s why I’m asking for your help.”
Her heart thumped. She took a step back, braced herself for the role he was about to ask her to fill, fearful it was not at all what she wanted for her life.
“C’mere darlin’ girl.” The natural drawl he worked to keep out of his speech slid into place as he spread his hands in invitation. She leaned closer. He slipped one arm behind her back, pinned her to him, then crooked her chin in his hand.
It was warm, solid, comforting. Like Benjamin.
“You have underestimated us both. You’re a woman worth pursuing and I’m a man who doesn’t give up. I’m going to show up everywhere you go, so you might as well make my presence at your side official, starting right now.”
“What did you have in mind?” She melted against him. Please God, don’t let me act like a desperate thirty-something female.
“Be my teacher,” he said simply. “Show me how to be patient and kind, to dig beneath the surface of problems and find true solutions, just like you do.”
“Ooookay.” She stiffened a bit, swallowed down her disappointment. Teacher. Hmm. What was she expecting, anyway?
“There’s more.” He gave her a little shake, a loosen up jiggle. “Be my partner in service. Help me see the need in our community, in the kids of this city. Partner with me to find ways to meet those needs.”
“Sure.” She felt her eyes begin to sting. A rush of emotions clogged her throat. He cared about the things that mattered most to her.
“Be Ethan’s friend,” he touched his forehead to Ali’s, their eyes downcast to the spot where their hearts hammered in one rhythm. “He needs you in his life as much as he needs me, if not more.”
Her pulse thudded a painful beat. Would Benjamin ever see her other than as a therapist, a caregiver?
“I’ll be there for as long as you want me,” she whispered, afraid he’d hear the trembling of her voice.
“And that’s where I’m in trouble, baby.” Benjamin crooked her chin upward. She looked into the bottomless depths of his eyes and saw her future.
“I want you forever. I want you for my wife. I want you beside me in everything I do from this day forward. I promise that if you’ll honor me with your trust, I’ll earn it with my faithfulness, every day for the rest of my life.”
There were no words for a fitting response. So, Ali lifted her face and offered Benjamin
her kiss. All of her kisses for the rest of her life.
And in her heart she offered God thanks for her forever family.
Dear Reader,
I learned some sad and frightening statistics as I researched child abuse in America. An estimated 900,000 children are victims of abuse and neglect every year, with approximately four fatalities every single day.
By age twenty-one, 80% of young adults who had been abused meet the criteria for at least one psychiatric disorder such as depression or anxiety.
Children who experience abuse are 28% more likely to be arrested as adults and 30% more likely to commit violent crimes.
In the United States, 14.4% of all men and 36.7% of all women in prison were sexually abused as children. And we’re not talking about teenagers in consensual relationships. The median age for sexual abuse is just nine years old.
Unbelievable statistics, aren’t they? But there are tremendous efforts being made to break this cycle through (1) services that support families, (2) education on prevention for adults and children and (3) promoting the notion that stopping child abuse is everyone’s business.
Christ said, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”
Get involved. Visit Web sites such as
www.preventchildabuse.org
or contact your state office of Child Protective Services for more information. A child’s safety is an adult’s job.
Until we meet again, let your light shine.
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Once a little-known disorder, autism now affects 1 in every 166 children in the United States. Why do you think the incidence of this disorder is on the rise?
Asperger’s syndrome is a highly functioning form of autism. Have you ever been exposed to a child or adult with Asperger’s? What was your experience?
