Love's Image

by Debby Mayne

  “Good night, Shannon,” Judd said as he walked out the door where she stood, holding it open. “See you soon.”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “G’night.”

  Whatever had happened in her apartment was a mystery to him. While nothing physical had happened, it seemed like the night had been a major turning point—and not in a good direction. His heart sank at the memory of the look on her face as he left.

  Armand had loved poetry, too, Shannon remembered. But he was the opposite of Judd. His favorite poet was Poe, king of darkness.

  After Judd left, she closed and locked the door before going to the kitchen to clean up the small mess from dinner. He’d offered to help, and perhaps she should have let him, but she didn’t want him to see how much effort she was having to put into maintaining her equilibrium.

  He kept looking at her, almost as if he was confused by something. That had made her very uncomfortable and self-conscious.

  She noticed that he was quiet tonight, almost moody. He’d tried to pretend nothing was wrong, but she could tell something bothered him.

  After the dishes were done, she went through her nightly routine of flipping through magazines, channel surfing, then giving up and going to bed. She grabbed her Bible off the loveseat where she’d left it and placed it on the nightstand. After she got ready for bed, she picked it up, looked at the cover, then put it back. She was tired. She didn’t feel like reading or trying to find comfort in scripture at the moment. Her heart felt too heavy for something like a gospel message to be able to help.

  After a long night of tossing and turning, Shannon crawled out of bed and plodded to the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, she studied her face in the mirror and took a really good, long look at her scar. It was still bad.

  Then she thought about the guy who’d hit her. He was dead. Although people around her had tried to cover the details, she’d learned that he had a wife and young children. Yes, it was his fault that he’d been drinking and should never have been behind the wheel. But what about those kids? They were innocent, and just because of some stupid error in judgment on their father’s part, they’d grow up without a father. Shannon couldn’t imagine what life would have been like without her dad in her life.

  Her parents had been complete opposites. Where her mother was always looking over her shoulder and wishing for things that never could be, her father taught her to count her blessings and enjoy life. Her mother was focused on her own desires; her father was active with Habitat for Humanity. He’d been in construction all his life, so he figured that was the best way he could give back to those less fortunate.

  Maybe she could find out something about the family of the man who’d smashed into her. If his family needed something done around their house, perhaps she could talk to her father about helping out. It wasn’t much, but at least it would be something. Plus, she had a nice nest egg that would more than provide a decent living for the rest of her life. It wouldn’t hurt much to help them out financially.

  Shannon kept a close eye on the clock. She didn’t want to be late for her appointment with Pastor Manning. Although she seriously doubted he’d be able to help her, hopefully he knew someone she could go to for psychological help. Being in his profession, he must know people in all fields. In fact, she might even try enlisting his help with the family.

  Pastor Manning greeted her at his office door, his hand extended, a warm smile on his face. She instantly felt comfortable and able to open up to him without holding back.

  “Why don’t we sit over here where we can be more comfortable?” he said, gesturing toward a conversational seating arrangement of a worn but matching sofa, loveseat, and chair.

  Within minutes, she found herself babbling about every thought she’d had on her mind since the accident and even some things she’d been pondering before her trip home. He continued to nod and make brief comments to encourage her.

  Finally, she flopped back on the couch. “I can’t believe how much I just talked. I didn’t give you a chance to get a word in edgewise.” She paused for a second and smiled. “Just call me motormouth. That’s what all my friends called me back in high school.”

  “Motormouth, huh?” He nodded and chuckled. “I guess that’s a term of endearment if it comes from the right people.”

  “Oh, only my closest friends would dare call me that.” Then, Shannon started going on and on about Janie and some of her other friends before she realized she was at it again. “Oops! Sorry.”

  “No, that’s quite all right. I like to hear you talk. You’re a delightful young woman and a great conversationalist.”

  She laughed. “I guess that’s a nice way of putting it.”

  Pastor Manning’s smile slowly faded as he leaned forward in his chair across from Shannon, clasped his hands, and looked at the floor for a moment before meeting her gaze. “I understand you’re having a rough time dealing with some things. Would you like to talk about it?”

  She started to tell him she only wanted a referral, but he was so easy to talk to, and he truly did seem to care. After a brief pause, she nodded.

  “Yes, I am having a hard time.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Shannon started slowly, telling him how consuming being a supermodel was and how she was never allowed to forget about what she did for a living. There was always someone there to remind her, like cameras, crew, fans, and Armand. Although she’d once thought she loved him, she now realized he was the path of least resistance—the way she chose to go to keep up the pretense of living the perfect life.

  “Do you still hear from him?” Pastor Manning asked.

  “No. He left right after the bandages were removed. Sure, he sent flowers and a couple of postcards, but that’s it. My relationship with him is over.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Does this upset you?”

  “No, not really,” Shannon replied truthfully. “After being apart from him for this long, I see how it was all just for show, not to mention convenience. We were both in the same profession, and we understood each other. Neither of us ever wondered if the other had ulterior motives.”

  “Sounds like you might have been mistaken about that.”

  “Maybe.” Shannon grew silent as she thought about his comment. Perhaps she was mistaken, and they did have ulterior motives. Their motives could have been to appease those around them rather than joining together as two people who truly loved each other. That was very possible. Highly likely, in fact.

  Pastor Manning studied his steepled fingers before looking back at her. “Sounds like you’re also having problems dealing with the fact that the accident involved a death.”

  “Yes, that’s really bugging me,” she admitted.

  “I can certainly understand that. But you should never feel guilty. It was completely out of your control.”

  “Yes, I know,” she agreed. Then she told him what she’d overheard about the man’s family.

  “You have a good heart, Shannon. I’m sure the Lord would love for you to give to the man’s family. That shows the forgiveness in your heart.”

  “Oh, it’s not out of forgiveness.”

  “Is it from guilt?”

  Slowly, she nodded, admitting her shortcoming. “Afraid so.”

  “That’s something you need to pray about. You also need to know that there are some things you just can’t fix. No matter how hard we try as humans to make everything right and just, it’s impossible.”

  “But doesn’t God want us to be good and pure in our thoughts?”

  “Yes, of course, He does. But it’s not going to happen one hundred percent of the time, and He knows it. That’s why He sent His Son. Jesus was the only perfect man ever to walk this earth, and it’s our job to worship Him and share the good news that He’s saved us from our sin nature.”

  Shannon had a lot to think about. “I still want to help that man’s family.”

  “Yes, of course you
do. So do I. Fortunately, the Lord has placed a kind nature in your heart, and He’s given us the ability to know right from wrong.”

  Shannon suddenly felt shame because she suspected he was talking about what the Lord did for believers, those who walked in His Word and knew scripture.

  “I’m not so sure it has anything to do with my faith,” she managed to sputter.

  “There are kind people who don’t believe in Jesus,” Pastor Manning assured her. “The big difference between them and us is that we want to please Jesus, and we do kind things for people to His glory.”

  “Wow!”

  Pastor Manning snickered. “Yeah, my sentiments exactly. I never cease to be wowed by all the goodness of God.”

  Two hours after Shannon walked into his office, she stood at the door getting ready to leave. He took her hands in his and said a short prayer for mercy and healing.

  When she opened her eyes, he smiled. “Would you like for me to find someone to work with you? If you feel like you still need some help, I know a few people.”

  Shannon shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Not now, anyway. You’ve made some things very clear to me. Now I need to go home and do some serious thinking.”

  “And praying,” he added.

  “Yes, and praying and studying my Bible.”

  “Oh, just a minute. Let me get the tracts I subscribe to.”

  He quickly moved over to his file cabinet, flipped through some papers, and came back with a pamphlet in his hands. “This one deals with understanding why bad things happen in this world and allowing the Lord to work through them.”

  “Thank you so much, Pastor Manning. You don’t know how much you’ve helped.”

  “I can’t take credit for any of it,” he replied, pointing his finger heavenward.

  Shannon hurried down the hall toward the exit, when suddenly, a familiar figure stepped out from a darkened room. “Judd! What’re you doing here?”

  six

  “I thought I’d stop by to see Uncle Garrett.”

  Shannon lifted one eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Well …”

  “Level with me, Judd.”

  He rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “You caught me.”

  Shannon glanced at her watch. “Shouldn’t you still be in school?”

  “Teacher in-service day. Kids aren’t in school, so when the workshops are over, we’re dismissed.”

  “Well, good for you.”

  Shannon took a step back and watched as Judd’s expression changed from contrition to calculating. She loved the way he let his feelings show. He’d make a lousy actor … or model, which was good.

  “Since I’m here, and you’re here,” he said slowly, “how about doing something together this afternoon?”

  “Sounds good, but I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Disappointment shrouded Shannon. “I wish I could, but I have plans.”

  “Oh.” He glanced down and shifted his feet. She saw how his expression changed once again. Disappointment and worry had taken over.

  “With my mom,” she said.

  “Oh,” he said again, only this time, a smile covered his lips, and he looked at her. “In that case, don’t let me keep you.”

  As they parted, Shannon felt like she was walking on air. Seeing Judd always did that to her. He wasn’t nearly as handsome as Armand by most women’s standards, but he looked much better to her. More real. More animated. He never minded showing his feelings. And while Armand worried about getting lines from smiling, that concept never seemed to worry Judd in the least.

  Shannon was still nervous about driving, but she’d been forced to venture out more. She couldn’t very well expect other people to drive her everywhere she needed to go, so she tightened her jaw and moved ahead, forcing herself to deal with life. Her inborn streak of independence had returned.

  No matter how much she talked to herself about how safe the back roads she took were, by the time she got to her parents’ house, her hands were shaking, her palms were sweaty, and her head ached. When would this fear ever end? Or would it?

  The neighborhood hadn’t changed much since she lived here, with the exception of the trees, which had grown a few feet taller. The long driveway, which led to the garage in the back of the house, was shaded by oaks with branches that overhung the concrete path, almost like long, sheltering arms protecting the people who’d arrived.

  Shannon took her time, allowing the scents to fill her nostrils and the sounds to bring back memories. The back-facing garage door was open, exposing both of her parents’ cars, parked side-by-side as they had been for as long as she could remember.

  “I’ve been worried about you, Shannon,” her mother said first thing. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it. You’re late.”

  “Just by ten minutes,” Shannon reminded her, defending herself.

  “We can’t keep Cissy waiting. You know how busy she is. When you have the best hairdresser in town, you have to be there early. She’s booked into next month, you know.”

  “Yes, I know. You keep reminding me.”

  “Don’t get sarcastic, Shannon.”

  Just then, her father rounded the corner, his arms extended, a wide smile on his face. “Shannon, baby, come give me a hug.”

  “Daddy. Why are you home this early?”

  Shannon noticed her parents exchanging a glance before her mother ushered her out the door. “C’mon, let’s go. We can’t dilly-dally any longer.”

  “I need to talk with you about something later,” Shannon told her dad. Then she turned to her mother. “Want me to drive?”

  Her mother paused, then nervously flicked her wrist toward her own car. “No, I’ll drive. We don’t have much time.”

  Shannon wasn’t sure if her mother was being polite or if she didn’t trust her driving. Whatever the case, Shannon didn’t argue. As always, she went along with her mother to keep the peace.

  The woman was white-knuckled as she maneuvered the oversized luxury car through the streets of the Atlanta suburbs, her gazed fixed on the road ahead. She was on a mission. They were halfway to the hairdresser her mother had picked after interviewing a two-page list. Cissy, the hairdresser, had a clientele that impressed her, so that’s who she insisted Shannon choose. Being the dutiful daughter she was—or not wanting to make waves because she couldn’t stand the repercussions—Shannon had agreed to this awkward time for her hair appointment.

  “I’m curious about something,” Shannon said.

  “If you have questions, just ask,” her mother snapped. “Don’t beat around the bush.”

  “What’s going on between you and Daddy?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shannon.”

  Her expression was guarded, but her grip on the steering wheel grew even tighter. Shannon knew she’d hit a nerve.

  “I saw that look you gave each other.”

  There was a long silence. Shannon studied her mother, who was trying to focus on her driving but was clearly distressed. Whatever the problem was, Shannon suspected her mother wasn’t ready to discuss it.

  “We’ve been married nearly thirty years. We do look at each other occasionally.”

  Shannon could tell it was no use to press any further, but her radar was up. She was determined to find out why her parents were acting so odd. After she’d left the hospital, she’d only seen her father once, and that was very briefly, before her mother had almost pushed him out the door.

  “Here we are,” her mother said as she quickly swung the car into the parking space of a strip mall. “Better hurry.”

  Shannon glanced at her watch. “We’re not that late. I’m sure she’s used to waiting a few minutes for some of her clients.”

  Cissy stood tapping her foot with a scowl on her face. “You’re late,” she said sternly.

  “I’m so sorry,” Shannon’s mom apologized. “It won’t happen again.”

  “I’m b
ooked tight, you know.”

  “Yes, I’m fully aware of that. My daughter’s still dealing with the fear of being in a car. This isn’t easy for her.”

  Shannon watched the two women as they looked at each other with understanding. She decided right then and there that she’d find another hairdresser before the next time she needed a trim. No way would she grovel for being just a few minutes late—especially when the hairdresser had such an uppity attitude. Even as a supermodel, Shannon never spoke to anyone with the haughty attitude Cissy had.