Secrets over Sweet Tea
Page 14
Scarlett Jo forked another bite of the rich, sweet goodness and waited with a face that reflected nothing but concern.
Elise looked dumbfounded. “Um . . . well, um . . . I’m just not sure what you’re talking about. The church has a lot of demands. My family has a lot of demands. The kids’ school, caring for the people in the music department, my volunteer work. I’m just not as available as I used to be.”
Scarlett Jo nodded, carefully listening to all that Elise was saying and all that she wasn’t. “But these are the same demands you had a year ago. And a year ago we had lunch every other week. We talked about our children, our husbands. How is Tim?”
Elise raised her hand for the waitress. “I think I’ll just have some coffee.”
Scarlett Jo crinkled her nose. “Sure, honey. Get you a coffee.”
Scarlett Jo finished her cobbler and sipped tea while she waited.
The coffee arrived quickly. Strong-smelling coffee. “Tim is good. You know he is.” Then her eyes began to water, and Scarlett Jo heard the faint break in her voice. “Well, I’m not sure. He’s been acting different lately. I’m kind of worried about him.”
Scarlett Jo patted Elise’s hand. “Worried why, honey?”
Elise dabbed her eyes. “Well, he just seems to be acting really odd. I don’t know—maybe he doesn’t love me like he used to. Maybe he’s overloaded at work or something. But he just seems real angry with me lately. Like he’s frustrated. And I told him I thought he was working too much. You know, with the way the church is growing, it requires more of us, more of him. But he claims it has nothing to do with work, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s having a midlife crisis. I would just hate for him to do anything foolish if he is.”
Scarlett Jo watched Elise take a sip. She held the coffee in her left hand.
“Sugar, it sounds like you and Tim might need to get away together.”
Elise took another long drink of her coffee. Her head lifted and she smiled. “That would be wonderful. But right now there just isn’t time.”
Scarlett Jo leaned over and took Elise’s hand in hers. “Honey, you can’t afford not to take care of your marriage. Marriage comes first—before children, before jobs, before everything except the Lord. And by ‘the Lord,’ I’m not talking about doing a church job. Your marriage comes before that too.” She beamed. “Tell you what. I’m going to talk with Jackson, and we’re going to make sure the two of you get away. I’ll even watch the kids.” She snorted. “What’s two more when you have five?”
Elise shook her head. “No, Scarlett Jo. You can’t do that. We’re fine. We’ll get away with the kids somewhere—camping or something. That’ll be what we all need.”
Scarlett Jo shook her head, and the large white flower that was attached to her headband shook with it. “I’m not taking no for an answer. You need time without the kids, and the church needs the two of you strong and healthy and happy. And so does your family.”
She could see Elise’s resignation. “Okay. Well, sure, yes, you’re probably right. We probably just need some time alone.”
“Trust me, Elise. I know the power of being alone with your man.”
“Thank you.” Elise glanced at her watch. “Oh, Scarlett Jo, I’m so sorry. It takes me fifteen minutes to get home, so I’m going to have to run. We will do this again soon, though.”
She stood, grabbed her purse, then leaned over and gave Scarlett Jo a half hug. Scarlett Jo hated half hugs. Elise touched Scarlett Jo’s face. “You are such a wonderful friend. Thank you for listening. But please don’t say anything to Tim. I don’t want him to think I’m talking about him. He’s just going through a rough time, that’s all. If you and Jackson offer something to us, let him think it’s your idea, okay? Please don’t let him know we talked.”
Scarlett Jo licked her lips and then moved her fingers across them as if she had zipped them shut.
“You’re the best,” Elise said. “I’ve really missed seeing you. I hope we can do this again soon.” She straightened and half ran from the restaurant.
Scarlett Jo watched as Elise climbed into her blue Volkswagen Jetta. As soon as she got in the car, the phone was back at her ear.
Scarlett Jo raised the glass of tea and took a long sip. Then she gazed out the window at the traffic as her mouth formed the words, “Lord, help Elise break. Whatever’s in her that needs to break to get her whole and out of her lies, break it. But if you could do it as gently as possible, I’d appreciate that too.”
Zach shook his head hard. But the image of Grace in his mind was apparently more of the tattoo variety than the Etch A Sketch version. Shaking couldn’t dislodge it. She was there. And she seemed to be staying.
Darlene came into the conference room. “I’m going to call it a day.”
He spun around, wondering for a second if his thoughts betrayed him. “Sure. Sure. I’m about to leave too.” He turned back toward the window. The neon lights of the Franklin Theatre already shone bright, ready to welcome evening moviegoers. “Grace Shepherd.” He spoke her name, appreciating the way it fell from his lips.
“Yes? Tough day for her, huh?”
“Yeah, but have you ever seen someone handle a situation like this with, well, such grace? She doesn’t get angry. She doesn’t talk bad about her husband. She’s just determined. And she makes it clear that this is the hardest thing she has ever done.”
“It’s because she loves him.”
Zach let out a puff of air. “Look what he’s done to her. How do you love that?”
Darlene walked around the conference table and looked out the window next to his. “You can’t explain love. People love broken people all the time, and we are all broken in some way. We see it all in here, Zach. We get them in the denial stage, the anger stage, the shock stage. I think Grace Shepherd has a long road of healing ahead of her. A very long road.”
They stood there in silence for a few minutes before she added, “But just like I know God has a beautiful plan for you, I’m confident he has one for Grace. No matter where she may have to go to get there.”
Zach turned toward Darlene. Her white dress made her look almost angelic. “How do you know all of that?”
She let out a soft laugh. “I’ve never seen one living soul who has asked God for help and been refused. I’m not saying help will come the way you want. But I can assure you that from the moment we ask, he has heard and he is moving. Plus, I watch people. I take people in. And to be honest, I learn a great deal about them by what they don’t say.”
The last sentence came out in a knowing way. Darlene laid a soft hand on his shoulder, then exited the room, leaving him to wonder what she knew exactly.
Zach’s paralegal, Derrick, came in a few minutes later. He left a stack of research for next week’s court cases on the end of the conference table and said good-night. Zach stood quietly a few more minutes. Then a text message alarm sounded from his phone: Both girls spending night with friends. I’m doing dinner and a movie with Becky and Lisa.
That was it. No “What do you have going on? What will you do for dinner? Want to see a movie or maybe spend an evening at home?” There was nothing. Not one thing.
Zach walked into his office and sat in his chair, propped his feet up, and leaned back. He wouldn’t even bother to respond to that. He’d show her. Even though he knew she didn’t care if he responded. She did what she wanted when she wanted. It was all about Caroline. The rest of them simply existed in her world.
The text alarm sounded again. What now? I’m sure you’re not about to ask my permission. But it wasn’t Caroline.
You alone yet? Can I drop by? Or do you want me to go to that spin class he thinks I’m headed to?
A smile slowly crossed his face. Someone wanted to be with him tonight. Someone was willing to leave her family for him.
He texted back. I’d love that. Still at office.
Be there in five.
And she was. Zach never bothered saying hello. The passion between t
hem collided like killer waves on a sun-parched seashore, virtually consuming everything it touched. The intensity between them was so great that for an instant he wondered if this was about either of them at all. Or was it just the desperate desire to escape from what was their normal?
But he didn’t care. Not in that moment. He simply surrendered. Her presence was all he knew, her breathing the only thing he heard—until the door to his office opened.
Oh yeah, that he heard. And the words that fell from his wife’s mouth as he jumped from the sofa.
“What in the . . . ?”
Chaos ruled the next few seconds—expletives flying, Zach and Elise scurrying across the floor like ants on a demolished anthill.
“Elise?” Caroline said, finally recognizing the woman. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You? You’re having an affair with my husband?”
Odd that in the moment, Zach was more frustrated by the way she announced him as a possession than the fact that he’d been caught in a compromising position with one of the worship pastors from their church.
Elise was kneeling on the floor, her hands flapping across the carpet as she fumbled for her clothes. “Caroline, I . . . I can explain.”
Caroline’s green eyes seemed to be ablaze, reflecting the red of her hair. “Oh, do explain, Elise. Explain to me how you accidentally got intertwined with my husband on the sofa in his office.” She let out a sarcastic laugh. “I so want to hear that.”
“Elise, go.” Zach tried to keep his voice calm. “It’s best if you just go.”
Caroline’s head almost seemed to recoil. “Just go? You think I’m going to let this . . . this home wrecker walk away? Well, you two have another thing coming. You will both sit here and answer my questions.”
Elise looked at Zach, her eyes pleading. He longed to rescue her, to be a man in that moment and snatch her away, then deal with Caroline himself. But what remained of his masculinity had been stripped away when his wife opened that door.
“Sit!” Caroline screamed.
Elise stayed on the floor, tears now evident. Caroline stepped closer, towering over her. “Who do you think you are, going after another woman’s husband? A man with children. And you—you’re supposed to be all holy, leading the worship at church. But you’ve made it clear what you really are, so here . . .” Caroline dug frantically into her handbag, pulled out some cash, and threw it at Elise. “Just a little payment for your work. So you can be a prostitute instead of just a slut.”
Elise jumped to her feet and grabbed her purse while Caroline continued to scold her like a toddler. “You should be ashamed of yourself! You should both be completely ashamed of yourselves!”
Zach sank onto the edge of the sofa, mutely watching Elise slide over to the half-open door and open it farther. Caroline slammed her hand against it, closing it with such force that the walls shook. Funny he could notice that since everything else was shaking.
“Please let go of the door.” Elise’s words came out in a whisper.
Caroline’s voice cut like a razor blade. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not going to tell me anything. You’re going to listen to what I have to say.”
Zach noticed Elise’s white knuckles wrapped tight around the handle. “I’ve heard all you’re going to say,” she told Caroline. “I know you’re angry. And I’m very sorry. And we can talk, but I’m not going to do it this way.”
She looked at Zach again. Caroline followed her glance.
“You think he can help you? He can’t help you now. He can’t even help himself. What you need to do is get your rear end home and figure out what you’re going to do with your own marriage once your husband hears about this.”
Elise jerked hard on the door and pushed Caroline back. Caroline regained her composure, but not quickly enough to prevent Elise from leaving. In a few seconds Zach heard the stairwell door close.
Which left just the two of them. Zach leaned back and felt a brief release wash over him, a gratitude of sorts. The secret was out. The charade was over. There would be no more hiding, no more pretending. He found himself mildly surprised when Caroline ran to him, leaned down, and began beating on his chest like a wild animal. The tears that accompanied her anger surprised him even more.
“I hate you, Zach Craig! I hate you!”
He grabbed her wrists and wrapped his hands around them, pushed her back so he could stand. “I know.”
“You know! How do you know? I’ve never cheated on you. I’ve never so much as looked at another man. I’ve given you everything. Our girls.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, our girls. What will they do? They will be heartbroken when they find out.”
“I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself here. Only three people know about this—you and me and Elise. No one else. We don’t have to tell the girls. They don’t have to know any of this—especially right now.”
The look on her face was a jumble of confusion, shock, fury, pain. Tears had dampened her cheeks, and her shoulders shook as more fell. She jerked her wrists free and ran a trembling hand through her hair. “What am I going to do? What do you do after something like this?”
Zach wrinkled his brow. This seemed to be truly affecting her. To be honest, when he played out this scenario his mind, he had never imagined her caring. In his deep desire to blame Caroline for what he had done, he had somehow forgotten she might actually get hurt.
“I don’t know what to do.” His voice was so much calmer than he thought it would be—another difference from his imagined scenarios. He’d always thought he would be more freaked out than this. Had he wanted to get caught? Maybe that was why he’d been so reckless. Or maybe he was as narcissistic as he’d told himself Caroline was.
“Let’s just take things one step at a time,” he said. “I’ll stay here tonight, and maybe tomorrow we can find someone to talk to. I don’t know—maybe Jackson and Scarlett Jo.”
He regretted saying that as soon as the words left his mouth. Elise was Jackson’s praise and worship leader. This news could ruin her and Tim at the church. Tim would be devastated. Funny—until this moment he hadn’t thought about Tim at all.
Caroline sank down on the sofa, her tears falling freely now. Zach sat beside her. It was the first time he’d seen her cry like this in a long time. The first time in a long time he’d actually felt sorry for her. But when he wrapped his arm around her, she jerked away.
“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” She stood and started for the door. “And don’t come home. Whatever you do, do not set foot in my house.”
With that, she slammed the door behind her. And Zach was reminded once again of how quickly open-and-shut doors could change things.
All kinds of things.
Grace climbed from the bed and put on her black slippers. She picked up her white sweatshirt from the end of the bed and pulled it on over her UT tank top, which matched her orange- and white-striped sleeping shorts. Rachel had felt so sorry for Grace, she’d even let her wear the orange and white at her house. But now Grace was home. She moved aside the curtains and opened the plantation shutters, then just stood there looking out, thinking how strange it was to wake up when the sun was shining.
Miss Daisy jumped off the end of the bed and walked out the bedroom door, then stopped and turned as if to let Grace know she needed to follow. Today Grace was almost glad someone was dictating what she needed to do.
“Want to go out?”
Miss Daisy continued down the hall, obviously glad that Grace had gotten the message.
She opened the back door, and Miss Daisy meandered down the steps in a slow saunter. She was so Southern. Grace followed her out and sat on the top step. “I’m watching you.”
Miss Daisy ignored her. Grace wrapped her arms around her knees. Her husband would never be back in her bed. The thought had swept over her last night when she crawled beneath the covers, resulting in black stains on her white pillowcase. Now it brought wet streaks down her swollen face.
Grace mixed Miss Daisy’s food and poured herself a glass of sweet tea. Then she began to walk a small circle through the foyer and into the dining room, down the front hall, and back to the foyer again. Her slippered feet moved at a slow pace, and her prayers came out in fractured bursts.
“I’m really hurting here.” Past the dining room table.
“I need you so desperately.” The front hall.
“This isn’t how I pictured it.” Back to the foyer.
“Please help me make it through this.”
Then words passed through her heart and across her lips that never bothered filtering through her head because her head held no capacity in this broken state to even pray such a prayer. “And please, please, whatever I’ve done to get me here, get it out of me. I don’t ever want to end up here again.”
The prayer wasn’t passionate. It wasn’t a wailing or travailing kind of prayer. It was gentle, calm, but so desperate. The hurt—this hurt—was far too painful to ever want to feel it again. If she had to go to the deepest places of her personal shame to come out alive, then she was willing to go. She just prayed she’d survive the journey.
She wiped her eyes, walked to the bathroom, and unplugged her phone from the charger. It rang as she picked it up. She checked the caller ID.
Tyler.
The call with Tyler lasted five hours. They both cried. And in the span of that time, they relived every pivotal moment of the last ten years of their marriage. He asked if she was sure about the divorce. She assured him she was. He told her he had done all he knew to fight his addiction, that he had no more fight in him. She reminded him again that he was worth fighting for, but she didn’t know if he would ever believe it. And now the fight was his to own.