by Nancy Moser
No. That wasn't right. The reason he hadn't gone to comfort her was that she hadrit looked vulnerable. She looked strong and determined, her forehead tight as she concentrated on her thoughts. And sure enough, within a few moments, she had grabbed her Bible and slipped into the bathroom. It wasn't picked up for mere bathroom reading. She had a purpose.
Purpose. That was the main element dividing them lately. The more Annie got into God, the more focused she was. She wasn't focused in a fanatical kind of way—as he'd expected her to be—but in a quiet assured way, as though she was a person who'd been given direction, was merely waiting for further instructions, and moreover, was confident she'd get them.
Annie had closed the door of the bathroom so only a slit of light marked her place, her presence, her side of life versus his. It was appropriate. She seemed to live in the light until it nearly glowed about her, while he lived in the dark, watching from afar, content to stay safe under the covers of life and watch.
It's not that he couldn't join her. He could. Nothing would make her happier than if he said, “I want to know about the change in you.”
He didn't need to ask. He knew about the Jesus-change. Or at least knew about part of it. Been there, done that. It wasn't his fault the whole feeling of elation, of anything being possible, of hope, hadn't stuck. God had done a good job of ruining any chance of that. So now…he was who he was. Period.
What he was, was a coward. When Annie had come out of the bathroom and taken up the blanket, he'd nearly said something, nearly asked, “What are you doing?”
But he hadn't. The sight of her on a mission was mesmerizing. But the clincher had been when she closed her eyes and whispered, “Father, protect me. Be with me.” Not “Cal, protect me. Be with me.” Father. God. Proving she trusted Him more than him.
That hurt.
But why shouldn't she? What have you done for her lately? Lied about your father, piddled away the family money, and now her inheritance. If it weren't for you, they wouldn't he in this mess and Jinko wouldn't be threatening your family.
And so he'd stayed in bed and held his breath as his brave (crazy?) wife stepped over the sleeping kid and tiptoed down the hall to do…something. He couldn't imagine what was so important she'd take such a risk. And when she returned—obviously successful in whatever her plan was—he'd let the moment to ask slip by.
He didn't want to be shown up by God again. He wasn't sure he could take the humiliation.
He tried to sleep.
Jered was on a stage, his guitar resting on his knee. The music was beautiful, and the man in the front row was nodding and taking notes. Andsomehow Jered knew it was a record producer, and in a few moments his entire life would—
“Wake up!” Someone shook his shoulder. Why would the producer shake him?
But it wasn't a music mogul. It was Jinko standing over him. “Some guard you are.”
The vapor of his dream was sucked into a vacuum to be tossed in the trash. This was reality. “I must have dozed off.”
Jinko snatched up the blanket. “Where did you get this?”
“Annie gave it to me.”
Jinko's face made it seem like a bad thing. He pounded on the bedroom door. “Up, people! Up!”
Annie cracked open the door. “We're up. We're going to take showers. Why don't you put the coffee on?”
Jinko put a hand to his chest. “You want us to put the coffee on?”
She shrugged. “Then wait. We'll be down shortly.” She shut the door and locked it.
Jered looked at Jinko, waiting for his reaction. Annie had turned from scared to one gutsy lady. What had brought that on?
Jinko drilled the blanket into the chair. “I need coffee.”
Annie had her ear to the door. She smiled as she heard the men go downstairs. Locking the door had been a risk, but a risk she had to take.
She turned to Cal and whispered, “Get Avi out!” Cal hurried into the closet and quietly opened the cubby. “Come on, darlin. Come out.”
“Is it over?” she asked.
“No, sweet-apple. Not yet. They're downstairs. I locked the door and said we were taking showers.”
After a round of hugs, Avi squirmed in her oversized clothes. “Can I take these off?”
“For a little while.” Annie pulled the sweatshirt over her head.
Avi stretched. “It feels good to stand.” She pointed toward the bedroom. “It's morning?”
Annie felt awful. How would she fare in a confined space with no natural light, no window, no contact with the outside world? ‘Til get you some breakfast later. Do you want a hot shower?”
Avi nodded. “Can you just hold me first?”
Avi and Annie didn't say much as they sat together in the chair by the window. Their touch became their words, their synchronized rocking their sentences. As soon as Cal was done with his shower, Annie herded Avi toward the bathroom.
She noticed the laundry basket of clean clothes she hadn't put away. Sometimes it paid to be messy. She pulled some out for Avi. “We can only let the shower run twice. Daddy's done the first one. So now you take a quick shower and leave the water running. Then I'll take a turn.” She flicked the end of her daughters nose, then let her finger return for emphasis. “No singing.”
Annie got Avi settled, then went back to the bedroom. Cal sat at the end of the bed, drying his hair with a towel, staring at her. “What?” she asked.
“You think of everything, don't you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You're handling this as if the whole thing is a mystery novel, as if Avi having to stay hidden in her cubby is simply part of a carefully crafted plotline.”
She kept her voice low. After all, she was supposed to be in the shower. “Where's this coming from? You want me to continue to cower, be afraid?”
“It would be more normal. Understandable.”
Annie couldn't believe he was doing this. Not now. “Who cares about normal, Cal? Those men have us hostage. One of them has a gun and—”
“Because of me.”
Since he'd said it… “Because of you. But even that isn't important at the moment. What's important is moving past our fear, staying calm, using our heads, and letting God handle it.”
He snickered. “Gee, maybe He'll send down a legion of angels to save us.”
“He could, but He probably wont.”
“You bet He wont. He doesn't save anyone.”
Cal had made such comments before. Annie was weary of them, and the situation had taken away her ability to let them go unchallenged. “Enough, Cal. It's time you explain what happened to make you so bitter.”
“I told you. My dad—”
She shook her head. “There's more than that. I know it.”
“Go take your shower.”
The shower could wait. “Now. It's now or never.” He studied her a moment, and she could tell he was considering it. She took his hand and sat on the bed beside him. “Tell me. Please. The time for secrets has passed. I want to understand. Everything.”
And I want you to understand.
The thought surprised him. The notion to tell her about Treena had been near the surface many times in their lives, especially since the secret about his father had been uncovered. But now…sharing a life-and-death situation pushed the timing front and center. Its now or never had meaning at such times.
He turned her hand over and ran a finger along her palm. “I knew God once. Jesus. I prayed, went to church, the whole schmear.”
“When was this?”
“Before I met you.” He held her hand between the two of his. “I was engaged to another girl once.”
Annie's right eyebrow rose. “I…I didn't know—”
“We don't have much time. Let me say this.”
She nodded and was silent.
“Treena was devoutly religious. In a good way. Unlike my parents' fire and brimstone, she's the one who made me think about a Jesus who loved, who forgave. I lo
ved her so much I would have done anything for her. I even agreed not to have sex until we were married, because that's what she believed was right.”
He looked up at her. “But then there was one night. We'd taken a blanket and watched the sunset. We'd fallen asleep, and when we woke up and snuggled close… We made love almost before we'd truly woken up.” He looked at their hands. He was holding Annie's captive, but she wasn't trying to get away.
“She got pregnant. But in a way, it was okay—at least from my point of view. We were planning on getting married anyway. Treena had more guilt about it than I did. I knew we'd messed up, yet since we were making it right, everything would be fine. Even her congregation was being good about it. It was a time when I really started thinking that her God-way was the right way and it might just be the way for me.”
“Cal, that's wonder—”
He held up a hand. “But then my parents got into the picture. No loving let's-work-through-this. Only vile words, judgment. As if they were perfect. It really got to Treena. Shame took over, and it started to break her.”
The memory of her struggles and sorrow racked him still. “I hated seeing her that way. But my parents made her feel so sinful…” He sighed. “They took a girl who was oozing love and joy and made her a sobbing shell.”
He let go of Annie's hand. He had to say this next thing alone. Completely alone. “I tried to make her see they were wrong. I chose her. I loved her. We had an argument at my apartment over it. Treena drove away. She crashed. She died.”
Annies words were a whisper, “Oh, Cal…”
He shook his head. He didn't want comfort, didn't deserve comfort. “God took my love and my baby. That's why I want nothing to do with Him or His believers.” He hoped Annie didn't counter his feelings with any “It's God's will” or some other baloney.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Cal heard the shower. They'd left Avi in too long. He had to finish. Get this done. And yet, this was the hardest part. “Soon after Treena's death, you came along, a girl who was pregnant and in need of a husband, and I jumped in to save you—and your baby. I had a huge need to do something right.”
She put a hand to her neck and he saw her tense. He waited for her words: I was a rebound? A charity case? Something to make you feelgood?
All deserved. All expected.
“Go on,” she finally said.
“This is why I never told you before now. I couldn't. I never wanted—never want—you to think… I fell in love with you. The circumstances of your situation might have caused me to be interested at first, but I never would have married you—or adopted Avi as my own—if I hadn't loved you.” He kissed her hands. “I do love you, Annie.”
The door to the bathroom opened and Avi peeked out. “Mama, I'm done.” The shower was still running. Annie stood. “I have to get in the shower.”
She left him.
He deserved worse.
Annie had never taken a shower so fast in her life. She washed her hair and was rinsing it in double time, realizing they'd left Avi in too long. Jinko would only be so tolerant. Besides, the water was getting decidedly tepid.
She regretted the necessity of speed. Of all times in her life, she needed a long, hot, lingering, soul-searching shower. Cal's story of Treena had opened so many locked drawers that she didn't know which one to rummage through first. She was glad he had finally shared with her but also saddened that it had taken something as drastic as their present situation for him to do so. Why couldn't he have told her this years ago?
Because he knew you d react like you wanted to react. With anger and hurt. She and Avi were a project to make him feel virtuous? He'd come to love them? The fact she had been able to remain silent was God's doing.
Her own guilt's doing.
Hadn't she used Cal for her own purposes? Alone and pregnant, hadn't she latched on to his willingness, his kindness, with an intensity that was born more of need than love?
He'd grown to love her, and she'd grown to love him. That was the bottom line. Love had conquered all. Conquered much. Could it do so in their present situation?
Time was up. She shut off the water.
A heavy knock on the bedroom door made Cal jump and Avi give off a little yelp. Cal put a hand to her mouth.
“What's taking so long? Open this door!” Jinko yelled. “Now!”
Without prompting, Avi slid under the bed. Cal scanned the room and shoved her dirty clothes under the clean ones in the basket. He opened the door.
Jinko strode in. “I give you an inch… Where's your wife?”
Cal nodded toward the bathroom. “She's finishing up.”
“Enough of that.” Jinko banged on the bathroom door. “I want you downstairs. Now!”
Annie opened the door. Her hair was wet, a comb in her hand. “I'll just be a minute.”
Jinko pointed to Cal. “You, come with me. It's time you called your coin friend.”
“But it's early.”
Jinko lowered his chin. “You want to wrap this thing up soon or not?”
Good point.
“Scott!” Cal had never been so relieved to hear anyone's voice.
His friend sounded half asleep. “Who is this?”
“It's Cal McFay. In Steadfast.”
“Cal? Its Sunday morning.”
“I know. Sorry.” He looked at Jinko who spurred him on with a hand. “But I was excited and tried to call you last night.”
“We were out. Excited about what?”
“Your Barber collection. The three coins you needed. I got them for you.”
“Where?”
“At an auction in Eldora.”
“I didn't know about any auction.”
“It was in the paper.”
A pause. “We've been at Madge's parents' this last week. Had the paper stopped. Why didn't you call me? I would have gone.”
Because I wanted to buy them first and make a profit. “I didn't think of you until I got there and saw what they had. But I have them now, and they're all yours.”
“How much?”
At the last minute, Cal removed the profit from the price. He had to make sure Scott came over so this could be over. “I'll sell them to you for what I paid for them.”
“That's great, Cal. I really appreciate it.”
Cal let out the breath he'd been saving. “Can you come over—?” He caught Jinko's expression. “Can you bring the Barber set over, then I'll give them to you?”
“Why do you need—?”
“I've never seen a complete set. It would be cool to see you press the last three coins into their proper spots to make it complete.”
“Yeah…well, all right. It's the least I can do, considering. What time?”
“Now would be good.”
Scott laughed. “How about after lunch. Two?”
“Sure. I guess.” Cal gave Scott his address and hung up. “Did I do all right?”
Jinko wiped up a drip from his coffee mug. “You did great—if he comes through.”
“Oh, he will. He will.”
I hope he will.
After getting Avi settled in her cubby—sneaking her a coloring book, crayons, and her Barbies—Annie came into the kitchen. “How about omelets? I make a mean omelet.”
“Fine with me,” Jered said. “I'm starved.”
“All that ‘sleeping’ works up an appetite, eh?” Jinko winked. “Omelets would be fine.”
As Annie got out the pan, the phone rang. They all froze. “Should I answer it?” she asked.
“It might be Scott, calling back,” Cal said.
She turned to her husband. “You got ahold of him?”
“He's coming at two.”
“Enough chatter,” Jinko said. “No, you will not answer it. To everyone but our coin man, you are not at home.”
The machine picked up. Merry's voice filled the room. “Where are you, Annie? You okay? We'll wait as long as possible. But hurry up.”
The Christ
mas pageant.
“What is she talking about?” Jinko asked.
“Like I said before: church. We always sit with Merry. She's obviously been waiting.”
But hopefully shell do more than that…
Merry sat among the choir and readied herself for the next song. The Christmas pageant was grand. Except for one flaw: Where were Annie and Avi? Merry had called multiple times but had only gotten the machine. The only explanation was that the McFays were out of town. But why? And why now? Had something happened to Cal's dad? Surely Cal couldn't have been so mean as to forbid them to be in the pageant.
Father, wherever they arey take care of them.
As she ended the prayer, she knew she had to do her part, too. After the pageant, she'd stop over to check on them. Just in case.
Bailey slept in because he hadn't slept well. He'd hoped that with the morning light he'd find clarity. Actually, he'd hoped with the morning light the whole Jered-the-thief fiasco would be gone.
No such luck.
He put on his robe, went downstairs, slipped on his loafers, and trudged into the fresh frosting of snow to get the Sunday paper. On the way back to the house, he opened it and read the headline: Local Boy Wanted for Questioning.
He pulled the paper to his chest and scanned the neighborhood from the porch. Most of his neighbors' papers were gone, already safely inside, being perused over Sunday breakfast. He'd be the laughingstock. He was ruined.
He hurried inside, closed the door, and felt a sudden need to talk to someone. Get some support. Maybe he was overreacting. He hoped he was overreacting.
He ran through his list of possible confidants. The list was lacking. There was Sanchez, his chef at Bon Vivant. And perhaps the head waiter, Stanley. But he quickly discarded the notion of opening up to them. He was their boss. He had to maintain a gap of authority— however misplaced it might be.
Call
Although he hadn't known Cal but six months, in many ways the handyman was Bailey's first real friend. Besides, there was another advantage to talking with Cal—Cal didn't know Jered and didn't know the details of their father-son history. Cal would be on Baileys side.
Somebody had to be.
He got dressed and headed out. To Cal's house.
