by Noelle Adams
Her eyes widened in surprise at his harsh tone. Without speaking, she went over to the other chair and picked up his shirt. It had been in plain sight. She hadn’t moved it very far.
Mark was standing near the other chair, shaking visibly. He snatched the shirt out of her hand.
She stared at him, feeling like she’d just been slapped.
He’d never acted this way before. This wasn’t like him at all.
Something was wrong with him. Something was deeply wrong with him. No matter what both of them wanted, he’d been damaged in a way that had changed him completely, and he might not ever truly come back from it.
This reality was processing in her mind as she stood and stared at him, and it hit her with such pain and force that she almost choked on it. Her eyes filled with tears.
Not wanting him to see her reaction, she turned away from him quickly, strangling on her attempt to control her emotions.
“Shit,” Mark muttered, in a different tone. “I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t cry.”
She turned around immediately. “I’m not crying. It’s fine. It’s fine.”
He blew out a breath and sat down on the side of the bed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all.”
She hurried to sit down next to him, putting a hand on his knee. “It is fine, Mark. I know it’s hard. It’s going to take some time.”
He was shaking his head. “It’s going to take longer than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought I would be okay, but I guess I’m not. Not right away, anyway. The transition is harder than I thought it would be, and I don’t want to keep hurting you as I try to get myself back together.”
“You’re not hurting—”
“I know I’m hurting you, and it’s not right.” He was staring down at the floor. “I’m not as strong as I thought I was.”
“Of course, you’re stro—”
He kept talking as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m willing to go through whatever they want to put me through here, if it’s going to help me get over this hump. But it’s not right for you to have to just sit around waiting for me.”
“I don’t mind wa—”
“Just let me say this.” He didn’t sound mean now—just resigned and determined both. “I think maybe you should go back to Willow Park.”
“Wh—” She cut off her own word this time, surprised and outraged by the idea.
“I know you want to be here for me, but I think we both might do better if I just get through this stuff first. It’s hard enough for me to deal with my own issues. It might be easier if that’s all I have to worry about right now.”
She understood what he was saying. She was just adding more stress to him right now, since he had to think of her feelings as well as his own.
It hurt. It hurt a lot. But she made herself think through her initial response and realize that maybe he had a point.
“They wanted me to do some more sessions.”
“I know. But they’re not mandatory. Do you really think you need them?”
Sophie had no idea, but she could tell that Mark didn’t want her to need them, so she said, “Probably not.”
“Okay, then.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.
He covered her hand on his knee. “I know. But it will just be for a short time, and then I’ll be over the worst. I’ll be myself again.”
That would be nice. That would be so nice. To not have to worry at every moment that he was going to completely fall apart on her. To have her old Mark back again.
“You said you’d do anything I needed, and I really think this is what I need,” he added.
She didn’t want to do it. Part of her wasn’t sure it was even for the best. But the weak part of her wondered if it would be easier after all. And she wasn’t going to take back what she’d told him. If he wanted her to leave, then she would leave.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go back to Willow Park, at least for a week or so, if you really want me to.”
“Thank you.”
She hoped—she prayed—that she was doing the right thing, but she just didn’t know.
Four
Three weeks later, there was a knock on the door at exactly 6:44.
Sophie had been giving the living room furniture one final dusting, but she quickly threw the paper towel into the trash as she ran to answer the door.
An attractive blonde in her early thirties stood at the door, holding a covered platter. “I made cookies!” she announced.
“Fantastic,” Sophie said with a smile, stepping aside to let the other woman in.
“They’re a little too chewy,” Jessica Duncan added wryly.
Sophie chuckled and took the platter from her. “I’m sure they’re wonderful. You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“I wanted to. I missed book club last month, when I was supposed to bring a snack, so this is my way of making it up.” Jessica peered at the cookies in concern as Sophie set them on the table she’d prepared with cheese, fruit, and petits-fours and pulled the plastic wrap away from the platter. “I hope they’re okay. Daniel snatched two of them before I could fight him off. That’s why I’m early. I had to get them out of the house before any more got eaten.”
Jessica’s husband was pastor of Willow Park Presbyterian, the church Sophie had been attending for the last year and a half. She’d gotten to know Jessica through the book club over the last year, and Sophie had always liked the other woman’s quiet intelligence and unassuming humor.
“It looks like there’s plenty left for us,” Sophie said. “Daniel is welcome to a couple of cookies.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Jessica said with an amused, slanting look. “I keep telling him he needs to cut back on the sweets. He’s getting a dad-belly.”
“He is not.” Sophie visualized Daniel in her mind. He’d always seemed to be in really good shape, with broad shoulders and a lean body. “Not Daniel!”
“He is,” Jessica whispered, as if sharing a juicy secret. She put her finger and thumb together to indicate about an inch. “Just a little.”
Both of them laughed, and then Sophie said, “But seriously, he seems to be in great shape. Doesn’t he run?”
“Yes. He actually is in great shape. Much better shape than me. He runs every morning, even in the winter. He got this running stroller for Nathan, and he takes him out every morning. It’s actually a huge help to me. He’s really great. He could have the biggest dad-belly in the history of the world, and I wouldn’t care at all.”
Sophie could see on Jessica’s face that she really meant the final words. Sophie understood the feeling. She felt the same about Mark.
Not that Mark was in danger of gaining weight any time soon. Her good mood at having the women from her monthly book club over this evening subsided slightly at the thought of how skinny Mark had still looked over Thanksgiving.
Jessica must have sensed her change in mood. She asked in a different tone. “But enough about me and Daniel. How is Mark?”
“He’s good,” Sophie said, smiling and feeling more hopeful. “I think he’s doing pretty well.”
“You went up to see him over Thanksgiving?”
That had just been last week, and Sophie hadn’t seen Jessica since. “Yes. We had a good time. He seemed a lot more like himself. I think…I think he’s finally getting over the worst.”
The last few weeks seemed to have lasted forever. Sophie had gone to D.C. three times to visit with Mark, and each time he appeared to have improved. The counseling and other support he’d been receiving seemed to have had good effect. She and Mark had actually had a really good time over Thanksgiving. They’d gone to eat dinner with Roger and his family, and Mark had been more relaxed than she’d seen him in ages. He’d even started making jokes. They hadn’t made love that evening—both of them were really tired—but he’d kissed her very sweetly before she’d left the next morn
ing.
He was starting to heal. The past month had been good for him. And pretty soon she would have her husband back. He would be himself again.
“I’m so glad,” Jessica said. “How long is he going to stay up in D.C.?”
“He’s supposed to come back on Saturday,” Sophie said, suddenly feeling encouraged, excited about the thought of having Mark back. She was barely able to contain her smile at the realization that he would be coming home in just two more days.
“So you two are going to stay in Willow Park for a while? He’s not from around here, is he?”
“No. Neither of us are, but we don’t really have a home right now. He’s from Oregon originally, but his parents died when he was a teenager, and he was never very close to anyone but his brother, so he doesn’t seem to have much attachment to that area. Since I gave up our apartment in D.C., this is the only home we have right now. So we’ll stay here, at least through the end of the year.”
Jessica’s expression was thoughtful. “Will you move back to D.C. then? Will the station give him his old job back?”
“Not his old job. It’s not available anymore. But they’ll give him some sort of job, for sure. We might have to move to New York, though.” Sophie tried not to sound reluctant, but she hated the idea of living in New York, and she’d found out over Thanksgiving that it was the best position available for Mark at the moment.
“When would that happen?”
“I don’t know. I think Mark is just trying to get through the worst of the adjustments before he thinks seriously about the future. The station has actually been really great. They’re not rushing him or anything.”
“Maybe he’ll want to do something else entirely.”
“I don’t think so. He says he wants to get back to his old self—to be who he used to be—so he’ll want to stay in television journalism, I’m sure.
“So how have you been?” Jessica asked, looking at Sophie closely.
The other woman was perceptive and observant, so Sophie made sure to keep her face completely natural. The last thing she wanted was anyone believing she wasn’t completely happy to have Mark back safely. “I’ve been good. I’ve been good.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. I’ve been praying for you a lot and trying to imagine how you feel. And I keep thinking it must be hard, being away from him like this, when he’s finally home.”
“It is. Of course, it is. But I think I was…I was creating more pressure on him, and I want the best for him.”
“Did they really think it was a good idea for him to be away from you for so long? I would have thought it might be helpful for some of the counseling to include you.”
“We did some counseling together that first week.” Sophie looked down at the carefully arranged table. “And I guess it wasn’t really working for him. This is what he wanted. I’ve never been in his situation, so I really don’t know how he feels. I just have to trust him to tell me what he needs.”
“That’s right,” Jessica said quickly, as if she’d realized that her question had upset Sophie. “That’s all you can do. You’ll have plenty of time to get used to each other again once he comes home.”
“Right,” Sophie said, cheering up. Just two more days now. “I know it won’t be easy, but I really think he’s doing better, so it won’t be quite as hard as it would have been at the beginning.”
Jessica opened her mouth to answer when there was another knock on the door. It was almost seven now, so the other book club members would be arriving.
Sophie opened the door to a smiling Abigail, who stepped inside, saying, “Look who’s here!”
Jessica and Sophie looked as she stepped aside to reveal a tall, slim, grinning redhead.
“Lydia!” Both Jessica and Sophie exclaimed in unison, recognizing Abigail’s sister-in-law, who had spent the last six months in India.
“When did you get back?” Jessica demanded, running over to give the other woman a hug.
“This morning.”
“I can’t believe you came to book club,” Sophie said, taking her turn to hug Lydia. “Didn’t you want to stay with Gabe and Ellie and then go to bed early?”
“I slept on the plane and spent all day with Gabe and Ellie. Book club comes only once a month, and I’ve already missed six of them.” Lydia was still grinning.
Lydia had married Gabe Alexander a little more than a year ago, a providential arrangement since both of them were preparing to do mission work in India. They’d left in the spring, and Gabe had returned a couple of months ago so his daughter Ellie could start school. Lydia had stayed longer, although she would stay in Willow Park until the spring. It was a tricky situation, juggling their family and the work both of them felt called to do, but evidently they were finding a way to make it work.
Sophie found it encouraging. They loved each other and, because of that, made the adjustments that were necessary. She was sure that she and Mark could do the same.
Jessica asked Lydia another question, but Abigail pulled Sophie aside and asked quietly, “So Mark comes back on Saturday?”
“Yes. Yes!” Sophie was smiling again. “Saturday. I talked to him this morning.”
“How did he sound?”
“Good. He sounds a lot more natural than he used to. I think he’s going to be okay.”
“Well, Thomas wants to meet him. When he settles in and everything, maybe we could all go out to dinner.”
“That would be great.” Sophie smiled. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a husband to take along to dinner with friends. She’d been alone for a really long time. “I’ll see how he’s doing, and then we can arrange something.”
“Where is Alice?” Lydia asked, bringing Abigail and Sophie back into the conversation. “Is she coming tonight?”
“She’s supposed to be.” Sophie looked at the clock and saw that it was ten after seven. “Maybe she’s just running late.”
“I talked to her this afternoon,” Jessica said. “She’s definitely planning to come.”
“Here, let me get you all some wine while we wait.” Sophie poured out glasses for herself, Jessica, and Lydia. She’d bought sparkling grape juice for Abigail, since she was pregnant. She’d passed the drinks around when there was a knock on the door. “That must be Alice.”
She ran over to open the door to a small woman—just slightly taller than she was—with beautiful long wavy brown hair and big eyes.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Alice said.
“Don’t worry about it at all,” Sophie said. “Come on in.”
Jessica ran over to hug Alice, asking, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Cara had an ear ache, so Micah is taking her to the urgent clinic.” At the chorus of worried responses, she added, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. You know how she gets ear infections. We just always take her right away now, since they never go away on their own.”
As the others chatted, Sophie poured another glass of wine. But when she offered it, Alice said softly, “Oh, no, thank you.”
Sophie glanced back at the table. “Do you want some grape juice?”
“Yes. That would be great.”
Lydia was frowning thoughtfully. “Why aren’t you drinking wine? Why did Jessica ask you how you’re feeling?”
Abigail and Sophie both gasped as Alice and Jessica traded guilty looks.
“Are you—” Sophie asked breathlessly.
“Shh.” Alice held her finger to her lips like the librarian she was. She was obviously brimming with excitement, though. “We’re not telling people yet. You all can’t say anything.”
There was a lot of laughing and hugging after that, and they all vowed not to say a word.
Sophie was genuinely happy for Alice and Micah. Their daughter Cara was Micah’s biological daughter but not Alice’s, and Sophie suspected that they’d been trying for at least a year to have another baby.
This was cause for celebration, as was Lydia’s return from India. The othe
r women asked about Mark, acting excited for Sophie too. Of course, they were excited. They’d all been praying for him now for a long time.
Sophie hoped that, once Saturday came and Mark returned, she’d be just as happy as they were.
***
An hour and a half later, they’d done a lot of chatting and eating, and they’d talked about the book for about twenty minutes.
They were having a debate about the motivations of two of the characters when there was a knock on the apartment door.
Sophie blinked, trying to process a sound so unexpected. All of the women in the book club were already here. No one else should be at her door.
Everyone stopped talking as she got to her feet and walked to the door. When she looked out through the peephole, she gasped and swung open the door.
Mark stood on her welcome mat, dressed in jeans and a black coat, with water dripping from his hair.
“Is it raining?” she asked, quite foolishly.
“Yeah.” He gave her a half-smile.
She was so shocked she was frozen with it, joy, excitement, and nerves all rushing through her veins with her blood. “I thought you were coming on Saturday.”
“I came early.” He looked past her shoulder, into the apartment. “Is that all right?”
“Of course!” She threw herself at him in a tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so happy to see you.”
He hugged her back, evidently convinced by the sincerity of her response. “So this is your place?”
“It’s our place now—at least for the time being.” Then she remembered the other women seated in the living room. “I have some friends over for book club,” she explained, looking over her shoulder, although she couldn’t see the living area from where they were standing. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He didn’t sound terribly excited about the prospect of company, but who could blame him? He’d come all this way, just to be surrounded by a bunch of strange women.
Sophie tried to think of how to politely get rid of her guests as she took Mark’s hand and led him into the apartment.
Jessica had been starting to say something to the others, but she broke off the words abruptly when Sophie and Mark came into view.
