Secrets over Sweet Tea

by Denise Hildreth Jones

  She took another step, and something on the counter in the back of the empty store caught her attention. It was a lone blue-and-white porcelain teapot, looking strangely out of place in that drab, empty storefront. As a kid, she had liked those pictures where you had to circle the items that didn’t belong. If this were her picture, she’d put a big circle around that teapot.

  But something inside her shifted when she saw it. An idea. A feeling. A something. She shook her head and walked a little farther, her eyes never leaving the teapot. And then the something rushed through her again. A what-if. A what-could-be.

  She brushed it aside and quickened her steps toward where her car was parked. She needed to get home. Her parents and Miss Daisy would wonder where she was. And they’d be in good company because Grace was wondering that too.

  But a few minutes later, as she rounded the corner to her house, the something passed through her again. She dared let the question rumble through her mind. Could it be?

  She reviewed her life as she climbed the steps to her front porch. Thirty-five years of life. Ten years of marriage. Six moves. No children. Divorce pending. Had someone proposed this scenario to her fifteen years ago, she would have said, “No way. There’s no way my life will turn out like that. I’ve got my life all figured out, and it won’t be like that.”

  But it was. And it had. So as she opened the front door to her home, a thought passed over her. At this point in life, anything is possible.

  Scarlett Jo studied her figure in the mirror, the phone stuck to her ear and Sylvia’s voice like a clanging cymbal on the other end.

  “It’s scandalous,” Sylvia insisted. She must have said that five times already.

  “What it is,” Scarlett Jo answered, “is heartbreaking.”

  Sylvia humphed. “I don’t know where you sent those two. But I sure hope you won’t be bringing them back.”

  Scarlett Jo turned and looked over her shoulder to examine the rear view. “We are working through this with Tim and Elise, hopefully for their healing. And Jackson’s facilitated an opportunity to begin that process.”

  “I sure hope he’s not using the church’s money to do it.”

  Scarlett Jo opened her mouth, closed it, took a deep breath, and tried again. “If the church isn’t for helping restore the broken, I’m not sure what it’s for.”

  “But I heard—”

  “Sylvia, we have a real opportunity to minister to this couple. And I don’t think gossiping about them will accomplish that.”

  “Well, you’re my pastor’s wife. I should be able to bring anything to you. And what I’m bringing to you is that we need to get this whole music thing settled—soon. I don’t like having fill-ins.”

  Scarlett Jo pivoted and sucked in her tummy. Not bad, she thought. That gym is paying off. No six-pack abs yet, but I might get my two-pack to a four-pack by Christmas.

  “Did you hear me?” Sylvia’s grating voice penetrated the phone, and Scarlett Jo pulled it away from her ear.

  “Yes, I heard you. We’ll get the music situation figured out. It’s not like there’s a shortage of musicians in the Nashville area. And you can talk to me, Sylvia. Anytime you’re ready to talk about your stuff, you bring that to me, and we’ll talk about it. But I’m not here to talk about Tim and Elise. If I want to do that, I’ll do it with them. Now, did you call to tell me your dark and dirty secrets?”

  If Sylvia’s teeth weren’t her own, she had just swallowed them. But in a moment she found her voice, which collided with her pride and came out practically strangled. “I have no secrets.”

  Scarlett Jo laughed. “When no one has secrets, then those flying pigs we’ve been talking about for the last umpteen hundred years are going to take off. You may not be ready to talk about yours, but when you are, I’ll be right here. Now I’ve got to go. Bye.” She used her long orange-painted nail to click her phone off before Sylvia could spew whatever other nonsense she wanted to spew.

  She pulled at the elastic of her Pilates pants and let it snap back around the crease that rested between the two folds of girth she claimed Rhett had given her. Not exactly a model’s figure—at least not these days. But she wasn’t worried. She could live with being called curvy. Jackson had no complaints. And as long as she did it for him, she didn’t need to do it for anyone else. There was enough of that running through the water as it was.

  “Jack, let’s get a move—” She stopped when she caught sight of her oldest standing at the door, waiting on her. “How did I not have to beg you to do this?”

  “Hey, Grace Shepherd is hot. You don’t have to beg me to cut the grass of a woman who looks like that.”

  Scarlett Jo’s palm collided with the back of his head, and she grabbed her bright-orange handbag as they walked out the door. “Grace Shepherd is married.”

  “She’s filed for divorce.”

  “She is way too old for you.”

  “Haven’t you heard of cougars, Mom? They like younger guys. Who wouldn’t want some of this?” he said, hands colliding with his chest like Tarzan.

  She gave him the mama eye and moved in close. “If I catch anyone getting some of this—” she mimicked his chest pounding—“I will give you some of this.” She raised her hand like she was about to slap the stew out of him.

  He laughed from a deep place, then leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re funny.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got your funny.”

  He draped a long arm over her shoulder as they headed down the street. “Love you, Mama.”

  She elbowed him. He let out a fake grunt. She laughed. “I love you too.”

  Grace opened her door as they came up her walk. Scarlett Jo heard Jack let out a soft and slow “wow.”

  Grace’s blonde hair fell softly at her shoulders, and her warm smile lit up the entry. “You didn’t have to do this. I can call a yard guy.”

  Scarlett Jo cupped a hand around her mouth like a megaphone. “Yard guy! Grace needs you!” Then she pushed Jack forward. “Oh, here he is. Got him. This is the yard guy you need. He is efficient. Reliable.” Each word came out more as a directive than a declaration. “And he works cheap. As in f-r-e-e, free. And he is four doors down, so if he oversleeps, you can come wake him up yourself.”

  “That would be nice,” Jack mumbled.

  Scarlett Jo nudged him harder than she had earlier. This time the grunt was real.

  “Well, I’m very appreciative.” Grace turned her brown eyes toward Jack. “Thanks, Jack. Just let me know what I owe you in spite of what your mother here says.”

  Jack eyed his mama. She eyed him back. He looked at Grace. “No, ma’am. I’m glad to help.”

  “Well, the mower is in the garage, ready to go. I’ve got the door raised for you. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Will do.” And with that he made his escape from his mother.

  Grace moved out of the doorway and opened it wide for Scarlett Jo. “You’ve raised some wonderful boys.”

  “They can be. Yes.” She stepped into the foyer, set her purse down on the bench, and wrapped her arms around Grace. “How are you this morning?”

  “Numb, I think.” Grace led her down the hall. “I’ve already had a full morning. I feel like I could crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Want some tea?”

  “I’d love it.” Scarlett Jo followed her into the kitchen. Grace’s mom stood at the counter by the refrigerator as if keeping watch over the coffeepot. The aroma of brewing coffee saturated every molecule of air in the kitchen.

  “Scarlett Jo, I’d like you to meet my mother, Lydia Clancey.”

  Scarlett Jo’s mouth flew open. “Oh, my side, you look exactly like Grace.”

  Grace met her mother’s eyes, and both smiled as if they’d heard that for years. No wonder. They had the same blonde hair, caramel eyes, and slender frame.

  “I’ve got to hug you.”

  Grace laughed as Scarlett Jo pulled her mom in an enthusiastic embrace. “Mom, this is Sca
rlett Jo Newberry.”

  “Ooh, you are simply the cutest thing ever,” Scarlett Jo enthused. “Grace, how did you and your mom get so cute? I swear, it’s like I could just pick you both up and put you in my big ol’ handbag.”

  Grace’s mom staggered a little when Scarlett Jo released her, but her smile was warm. “Grace has told me so much about you, Scarlett Jo. And I want to thank you for the gift you’ve been to my daughter. We had no idea what all was going on, and we are so relieved to know she has such wonderful friends to walk with her.”

  Scarlett Jo pulled out a stool from beneath the counter and perched on it. “Grace is easy to be friends with.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” Lydia asked.

  Scarlett Jo puckered her nose.

  “Don’t like coffee?” Lydia said.

  She just shook her head and smiled, choosing not to say what she really thought about coffee in front of this complete stranger. And Jackson thought she couldn’t keep her mouth shut!

  Grace laughed. “I’ll get you some tea.” She poured a glass and carried it to Scarlett Jo. “I saw Zach Craig today. I went over to fire him as my lawyer.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, but he kind of wouldn’t let me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Grace ran her fingers down the side of her glass, where condensation was already building. “Well, he told me he’d understand if I left, but he would fight for me if I stayed. He said he may not be good at anything else, but he’s a good lawyer.”

  “He is good.” Scarlett didn’t say anything more. She had just reprimanded Sylvia for running her mouth, so there was no way she was going to run hers.

  “Anyway, he’s got me reconsidering,” Grace said.

  “So why exactly did you want to fire him?”

  Grace found some indignation as she raised her head and looked straight at Scarlett Jo. “He’s been cheating on his wife.”

  “I’d say that’s a pretty well-announced fact. I’m thinking she could have posted it in the Tennessean and gotten less of a response than by telling a group of Southern churchgoers.”

  “Anyway, I don’t need that kind of drama in my life. But I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I wish you could have seen him today. He wasn’t his put-together self. He was flustered and nervous. And ashamed—I could see shame.”

  Scarlett Jo tilted her head. “And that looked kind of familiar, huh?”

  Tears suddenly flowed, and Grace didn’t seem to fight them. “I’ve never felt shame like this. I was raised to believe you don’t get divorced. My mom and dad have been married for forty years.” She nodded toward her mother, who was reaching for a tissue from the box on the island. “My brother’s marriage has lasted for thirteen. How do you get rid of the shame?” Her voice broke, and she lowered her head into her hands, elbows on the counter.

  Scarlett Jo patted her back. “Oh, sugar, shame is a cruel companion. Don’t even try to take a trip with it ’cause it’ll snuff the life right out of you.” She took the tissue from Grace’s mother and handed it to Grace. “See, it’s okay to feel ashamed of something you’ve done and take it to the Lord for forgiveness. But to just walk around in shame is basically to say that God’s grace isn’t enough for you—that it may be all right for everyone else, but not for you. That’s a big ol’ lie because God’s grace is either deep enough and wide enough for all of us . . . or none of us. And shame carries another lie, too—that we’re worthy of something in the first place. That we can act a certain way and that will make us good enough or right enough. But the thing is, you can’t ever be good enough or right enough. None of us can. That’s why we need Jesus so much. Hey, you need another tissue, baby girl?”

  Grace sniffed and nodded. Lydia brought the box over to her daughter.

  “Anyway, you’ve got to move past that shame,” Scarlett Jo continued. “You’ve got to see it for what it is. It’s okay to grieve over the breakdown of your marriage. And it’s okay to confront your stuff, the pieces you got wrong. All of that is healthy. You probably even have some sin you need to repent of and ask forgiveness for. But I’m telling you, shame can’t be a part of this journey. If you want to heal, you’ve got to see shame for the lie that it is and move forward.”

  “I just never wanted to be the ‘divorced’ woman.”

  Scarlett Jo felt her large gold hoop earrings beat the sides of her face as she shook her head. “When people meet you, I guarantee they’re not thinking, There goes a divorced woman. They may see a tired woman, a hurt woman. But divorce isn’t a banner or a badge you carry. It’s not who you are; it’s just a piece of your story. And it’s not where the story ends. Don’t you ever forget that.” Scarlett Jo could see that register with Grace. “This is not your defining. It is your refining.”

  Grace looked directly at her, eyes swollen with tears. “I did play a part in this, Scarlett Jo. It wasn’t only Tyler. It was me too. I should have stopped so many things so long ago—stopped covering for him, stopped trying to be his mother, stopped living in such fear. Stopped judging him. I did. I judged him. Thought my way was the right way and he needed to do things differently. At least I told him that a lot in the beginning. Then I finally quit saying anything at all because I was afraid—afraid of people knowing our secrets, scared of how he would respond, afraid of starting a fight. Afraid of this . . .” Her voice trailed off. “The very thing I am living now is what I was so scared of. And if I had known I would be here anyway, I would have let all the balls drop so much sooner. I would have just released them and let them drop!”

  Grace’s voice was now passionate and sharp. “I want it out of me, Scarlett Jo.”

  Scarlett Jo raised her eyebrows. “What do you want out, baby girl? Because saying ‘I want it out of me’ can mean a whole bunch of different things to a woman who lives with six males.”

  Grace’s burst of laughter came through her tears. Her mom laughed too. “Whatever got me here, whatever there is in me that let this happen—that helped this happen—I want it out of me.”

  “Well, then, that’s all you’ve got to say. Let the good Lord know you want it out, and I assure you he’ll give you opportunities to get it out. There are two sides to every story, but God’s working on every side.”

  Grace dabbed her eyes with wadded tissues, her tearstained cheeks still beautiful. “There are probably two sides to Zach’s story too.”

  Scarlett Jo opened her mouth, then shut it quickly. But Grace had seen her. “You know something about that, don’t you?”

  Scarlett Jo bit her lip, fighting the urge to say anything.

  Grace prodded her. “You can tell me.”

  Scarlett Jo shook her head wildly and spoke through pressed lips. “Nope. Can’t. Jackson would kill me.”

  Grace elbowed her softly. “Come on.”

  “Grace, leave her alone,” her mother scolded.

  “No, can’t say anything.”

  Grace smiled. “It’s okay. I don’t need to know. All I know is, as one-sided as my divorce feels, I definitely played a part in getting us to this point. After living that many years with dysfunction, you can’t help but start acting dysfunctionally, or you wouldn’t stay. So I’m assuming the same is true for Zach. Which means I need to give him the benefit of the doubt, right?”

  Scarlett Jo bit her lip again and shrugged.

  “I’ll do that.”

  Scarlett Jo exhaled slower, grateful for Grace’s kindness in letting her off the hook. Jackson would like this girl.

  Zach parked in front of Jackson’s house and let the engine idle. He needed to gather his thoughts and his courage before he went in.

  The fallout from last weekend’s freak show at church hadn’t been as bad as he had expected. At least it wasn’t bad so far. Apparently the associate pastor, Stan Hammond, had addressed the congregation after Zach and Jackson left and said he expected what had happened there to stay there. He’d rem
inded them that the enemy was in a desperate battle for each one of their hearts as well, and he felt this experience had been given to them as a church body to see how trustworthy they were with other people’s hearts.

  Zach wasn’t sure what all that meant. But he did know that no other client besides Grace had tried to fire him, and fortunately she had changed her mind. He flinched every time the phone rang, though.

  He was still staying at the hotel. He had called the girls each night at their grandmother’s and never let on that anything was wrong. His dad and Jackson had encouraged him to give Caroline some space, so he hadn’t seen her since that morning at church. There had been no legal action on either side as of yet. But he was about to see her now.

  Jackson had arranged this meeting to at least get them talking. And Zach was more nervous than he had been before his first kiss. And not just nervous. What sat in his gut right now was dread. Fear. Anxiety. Panic. They were all colliding inside him like bad Mexican food.

  He turned off the ignition and felt the car come to rest beneath him. If only his pulse could do the same. He stepped out and walked up the front steps. The walkway was lined with the brightest flowers he had ever seen—big bursts of yellow and hot-pink and purple blooms. Exactly the kind of flowers you’d expect Scarlett Jo to have in her yard.

  She opened the door before he even got to the top step. “Zach. Hey, sugar, come right on in here. Jackson is in his study.” Her smile looked as broad as her hips in that tight blue skirt. She pounded him on the back as he came through the door. If she had played football, she’d have been a linebacker.

  “Thank you, Scarlett Jo.” He rubbed his hands together nervously. “Is Caroline here?”

  “No, not yet, honey. But I’ll send her in as soon as she gets here. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Yeah, sure. That would be great.”

  “You got a preference?”

  “No, no. Anything is fine.”

  She thumped his back again, a little more gently this time. “Well, you go right on in there to the office, and I’ll bring something to you.”