Her Secret, His Son

by Linda Wisdom

  “Who have you been listening to, Donahue or Winfrey?” she asked whimsically.

  He scowled. “You want to learn something worthwhile, you listen to Dr. Ruth.” He raised his voice to shout, “Come on, Tim! Otherwise we won’t have enough time to eat before the first show.”

  Sara felt relieved that Tim didn’t make any more nasty remarks before he left, except to question whether she’d be home early. She knew Jackson was right, her son was hurting, and maybe deep down he sensed this man was entirely different from the others she had seen in the past. How could she reassure him not to worry when she wasn’t sure what was going to happen herself?

  For the next fifteen minutes Sara wandered around the house, afraid to sit down and unsure what to do with herself. Why had she gotten ready so early when she should have known that she wouldn’t have anything to do until Jess arrived? She almost sobbed with relief when the doorbell rang. Still she took several deep breaths and walked slowly to the door, opening it.

  “Hi.” She suddenly felt very shy. Jess wore navy slacks and jacket and a silver-gray dress shirt with the collar left open. “Would you like to come in?” She stepped back.

  Jess was too busy looking over this new Sara and liking very much what he saw before him.

  “You look lovely,” he said huskily, his dark eyes roaming over her bare shoulders and down her slender figure. Standing so close to her he could smell the light fragrance of her cologne. “You should wear your hair down more often.”

  She touched the soft curls self-consciously. “This style isn’t safe to wear around the garage.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t leave it short.”

  Sara shrugged. “It got to be too much of a pain to go in for a haircut every six weeks, so I just let it grow out.”

  Or she couldn’t afford it, Jess thought. He reached out and touched a curl that curved near her cheek. “I think we better go,” he suggested. She nodded. “I’ll get my purse.”

  Sara’s high heels wouldn’t allow her a graceful entrance into Jess’s Bronco, so she finally laughed and slipped her shoes off, tossing them into the truck before she allowed him to assist her inside.

  “I rarely get to wear pretty shoes anymore, and I forget they do have their drawbacks,” she said, hooking her seat belt as Jess slid behind the wheel and switched on the engine.

  “Women with gorgeous legs should wear pretty shoes,” he quipped. Sara half turned in the seat so she could face him. “Why. Sir, I do believe you’re admitting you noticed my legs,” she said with a flirtatious air. “That and much more.”

  Warmed by his sincere compliment, she could only look at him with a broad smile on her face that faltered only a bit when Jess pulled up in front of a large, colonial-style house. It took him a few moments to find a parking space, since it appeared most of the guests had already arrived. He helped Sara out, then gave her his arm while she slipped her shoes back on.

  “Why don’t we go anywhere else but here?” she whispered, gripping his hand so hard he was convinced he had lost all feeling. “I’d even settle for a hot night at the bowling alley.”

  “It’s just a party. Nothing can happen,” he told her, guiding her up the walkway. “At least Tess and Charlie are here!’ She gestured toward a dark blue Toyota with her free hand.

  Sara stood slightly behind Jess as he rang the doorbell. She began to shrink back even more when a woman in her late fifties came to the door and smiled brightly at Jess.

  “Pastor, I’m so glad you could come,” she said warmly, opening the screen door.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Marcy. I hope you don’t mind that I brought a lady with me.” He pulled Sara forward.

  The woman’s smile slipped. “Hello, Sara.” Her greeting was far from warm.

  Jess’s own smile didn’t waver as he pulled Sara into the house. Mrs. Marcy’s manner continued to be a little forced as she introduced Jess to a few people he didn’t know. As for Sara, her introduction was glossed over in a very slick manner.

  “You’re doing fine,” he whispered in her ear when Mrs. Marcy was called away. Her attention was diverted by a steely-eyed glare directed at her from across the room. Mrs. Masterson looked at her very slowly from head to toe as if she were something very distasteful. When Jess looked down at Sara inquiringly, she raised her face, eyes very somber. “Then why do I feel as if I was a bastard attending a family picnic,” she murmured, suddenly wishing she was anywhere but here.

  “You’re worrying about something that doesn’t exist.”

  “Oh? Then take a look at Mrs. Masterson, because if looks could kill, I would be lying dead on this floor.”

  Jess glanced toward the older woman and saw what Sara meant. Mrs. Masterson’s lips were compressed with anger, her eyes blazing with that same fury. Plastering a smile on his face, he walked directly toward her with a worried Sara in tow.

  “Jess, no!” she hissed, vainly pulling against his firm grip.

  “Mrs. Masterson, it’s good to see you,” he said cheerfully. I88

  “Reverend,” she said in a clipped tone, but her eyes were on Sara. “Aren’t you afraid you made a grave mistake?”

  He looked down at his clothing then around at the other men who were similarly clothed. “None that I can think of.”

  The older woman stared directly at Sara, eyeing her bare shoulders with patent disapproval, even though many women present wore either strapless or halter dresses that left a great deal more bare skin showing than hers did. “I don’t believe I saw your name on Geraldine’s invitation list.”

  “I didn’t realize she had to have it approved first,” Sara shot back receiving a congratulatory squeeze of the hand from Jess.

  Mrs. Masterson turned back to Jess. “We’ll talk next week, Reverend.” Sara privately thought she sounded exactly like the queen granting an audience to one of her subjects.

  “Offhand I’m not sure what my schedule is, but I will let you know,” Jess said easily. “Well, we must mingle.” With a parting smile he guided Sara away. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he murmured in her ear as they headed for Tess and Charlie, who were standing with another couple Sara knew.

  She resisted the urge to laugh out loud with sheer happiness. “Just about as painless as having your tooth pulled by the string-on-the-doorknob method.”

  “You survived!” Tess hugged her tightly whispering, “I saw the two of you talking to Old Stoneface. She looks like she’s about ready to bust a garter.”

  “I don’t think she would dare do it in public,” Sara replied wryly.

  Tess grinned. “See, you walked in, and the roof didn’t fall down.”

  “You didn’t see Mrs. Marcy’s face when she saw who Jess brought with him.”

  “Forget Mrs. Marcy. Just guzzle the wine and eat the great food she’s providing,” she advised. “And be glad you’re not the one who has to clean up.”

  And for a while Sara did relax and enjoy the party. She was grateful that Jess rarely left her side for more than a few minutes. Later on in the evening she noticed the buzzing among some of the older members of the party and the way they looked at her and at Jess, and it began to make her feel uncomfortable. Pretty soon her smile grew forced and her conversation stiff.

  It didn’t take Jess long to realize that Sara was no longer enjoying herself. Taking his time, he steered her through the people while saying their good byes. Some were friendly toward them, others were not. But Sara didn’t expect miracles. By now she had a roaring headache and wanted nothing more than to take some aspirin and go to bed.

  “Now do you understand why I rarely go out?” she said, as she climbed into the Bronco and laid her head back.

  “The Creation took six days; why should you expect something that had been festering for fifteen years to disappear overnight?”

  Sara didn’t think it was funny and said so.

  “Sara, I’m just proud of you for going with me tonight,” he said quietly, reaching across the seat to grasp her hand. �
��But you’re expecting too much from them too soon.”

  “Am I? What’s wrong with people having good manners? Why should I go to a party where people are pretty much going to turn their backs on me?”

  “No one turned their back on you,” he insisted.

  “Please.” She drew the word out. “You saw Mrs. Marcy’s expression when she saw me. You would have thought I was somebody’s mutt with muddy paws from the way she treated me.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  Sara laughed bitterly. “Far from it. Now if you don’t mind, I would just like to go home and take a bottle of aspirin for my headache.” She looked out the window. “While I may not be the brightest person in the world, I do know that this is not the way to my house.”

  “No,” Jess agreed. “But if we end up fighting tonight I wouldn’t like the world to hear us.” He continued driving out of town.

  “I said I want to go home.” Her voice was raised. He shook his head. “Not until we settle a few things.”

  “What’s wrong? Didn’t I behave well enough for you?” Sara demanded to know. “Be careful what you say, or I might think that the only reason you took me there was to show the townspeople you could do anything you damn well please! Or perhaps infer that I’m your next project. My, wouldn’t that look good on your record.” Her voice turned dramatic. “Oh, yes, let’s convert the town tramp, shall we?”

  Jess’s knuckles turned white. “I’m beginning to think you had too much wine at that party, Sara, because you’re saying things you don’t mean.”

  “Now you’re implying I’m a drunk.” She was so caught up in her misery she was beyond knowing what she was saying. “Just take me home, Jess. I don’t have anything further to say to you.”

  His voice hardened. “Perhaps you don’t, but I have quite a bit to say to you, and you will listen to me, Sara, whether you like it or not.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jess wasn’t aware how long he drove. He just knew he wanted to get far enough away so that they wouldn’t encounter anyone they knew who could cause Sara to withdraw. And he couldn’t afford that when he intended to talk to Sara in a way he doubted she would appreciate. Forty minutes later he stopped at a fast-food restaurant for two cups of coffee and carried them out to Sara in the truck. Without a word he left again, heading for the drugstore across the street. When he returned, he tossed a small bottle of aspirin into her lap.

  “Hope this is okay.” He got in and switched on the engine. He drove down the street, hoping this town was like so many others where the park was situated in the middle of town. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he saw one ahead of him. He pulled into the parking lot and stopped at one end.

  Sara’s head was tipped down in thought. “Thank you for the aspirin,” she said finally.

  “Now you have no reason to go home right away,” he said in a clipped tone, taking his cup of coffee from her.

  Sara sipped the hot brew gratefully. With that and the two aspirin she had taken she began to feel better. If they could sit there in silence, she knew she would be fine, but she should have known that Jess wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  Jess finished his coffee, replaced the lid and tossed the cup into a small, plastic trash bag in the back.

  “I’m telling you this here, because there are some things that are said better in the dark where we can’t see each other’s face. Actually my face,” he said sardonically. “And this is one of those subjects.”

  Sara frowned. What was he talking about?

  He stared out over the steering wheel, across the darkened park toward the brightly lit playground. “The reason you couldn’t find me when Tim was born was because I was in jail.” He didn’t react when he heard her gasp. He couldn’t allow himself to look at her if he wanted to finish his story.

  “Oh, Jess,” she whispered, touching his arm.

  “Sara, please don’t say anything more until I’ve finished my story,” he begged. “It’s going to be difficult enough to talk about.”

  She sat back, giving him all the space he needed and remained silent. Of all the reasons that had run through her head when she had tried to contact him, his being in jail hadn’t been one of them, even considering that he was known for his wild nature and affinity for getting into trouble.

  Jess looked down at his hands curved over the steering wheel. Hands that had gotten him into more trouble than he had ever counted on.

  “I felt pretty torn up when you left me.” He smiled wryly. “Oh, I know I acted like the prize ass of all time. It was natural you wanted to get married that certainly would have been the next step with the way we were going. After all, we were practically living together.”

  “I was so wrong,” she said softly, cradling her coffee cup between her hands for warmth; but the kind of warmth she needed was more emotional than physical. “I grew afraid you were getting tired of me, and I started feeling possessive of you. I wanted to be with you all the time, and I worried every time we were apart. I was afraid you’d find someone else.”

  He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t just that. Oh, I admit that I felt suffocated at times, but it had more to do than just with you. It was me, too. I wanted so much for us, and I didn’t know where to get it. I was bored with school and didn’t think I’d learn anything there. You wanted me with you all the time, and I felt the need to get out and find something that would fulfill me. When you told me you wanted us to get married, I panicked. I had no prospects, the job I had at that printing shop barely gave me enough for expenses, and your waitressing job was no better. I was twenty-two, I saw my life ahead of me, and while deep down I loved and wanted to marry you, the shallow part of me wanted to see what else I could find. I felt we were too young, and that was all I could think to tell you when you started talking about marriage.”

  “While I saw it as the all-time brush-off.”

  Jess turned in the seat to face her. “I didn’t think you’d leave me so abruptly and without any word.”

  She offered a tiny smile. “I was afraid if I didn’t pack up my pride and leave right away, I wouldn’t leave at all. And if I stayed, I would always have the fear you would leave me. In my naïveté I was convinced marriage was the only way I could hold you.”

  Both were lost in their own painful memories. “At first I told myself you were off somewhere pouting and would come around. Then a week passed, a second week passed, and pretty soon I knew you weren’t coming back.” He spoke in a detached tone as if talking about two other people. “When that happened, I went on an all-time drinking binge. I called you lots of names, most of them not pretty and definitely not repeatable. I said I was better off without you and I was going to live my life to the fullest.” He looked at her, ashamed of the person he had once been, but knowing he had to tell her all of it. “There were other girls, I won’t deny it, but every time I felt empty, and then I felt even angrier at you. I lost my job, I hadn’t attended classes in weeks, and pretty soon all the anger that had built up inside of me exploded. I picked a fight with someone in a bar for no reason at all. He landed in the hospital with multiple injuries, and I landed in jail. It turned out the guy had some connections with the law, so I was slapped with a trumped-up charge and given nine months for assault and battery.”

  Sara blinked rapidly to keep the tears back, but they still continued to flow down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left,” she sobbed. “This wouldn’t have happened if I had stayed with you.”

  “No,” he argued, grabbing her hands and holding them tightly. “Sara, it could have happened later on for all we know. I suffered from a lot of internal pressure then. Pressure r had put on myself, just the way Tim puts it on himself. I had a horrible temper, and I needed an outlet. It was unfortunate that somebody had to be hurt in the process, but in the long run it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

  “Best? You were jailed, probably treated like I don’t know what, just because someone wanted you to suffer m
ore than you should have.” She shook her head, wanting the story not to be true, but knowing he wouldn’t lie to her. Not about this.

  “Sara, I was meant to be in that jail, because it was there I met the man who turned my life around,” Jess explained to her. “Wayne was the jail’s chaplain, and he refused to allow me to feel sorry for myself. As for my macho act, he saw through that right away. If it hadn’t been for him. I would have sat there for those nine months feeling bitter and probably scheming to get even with the world for putting me there. Instead, Wayne taught me how to deal with my feelings, he forced me to talk out my anger and showed me how to turn it around to my benefit.” He smiled, remembering the man who had done so much for him. “He kept me sane and whole, Sara. And when I got out of jail, Wayne let me stay with him until I decided what I wanted to do with my life.”

  “And you chose to become a minister,” she murmured, stunned by the turn of events in his life that were just as traumatic as her own had been.

  He nodded. “I thought about it and prayed long and hard before I made my decision. Then I went to Wayne, and we talked and prayed more. I knew it would be a hard pull, because my grades weren’t exactly the best to begin with, but I worked two jobs to pay my expenses and eventually qualified for a scholarship. I knew I wanted to obtain an additional degree in psychology, because I wanted to help troubled kids. Surprisingly I graduated from school with honors and began my work in a halfway house with Wayne. Sara.” He silently urged her to look at him. “For the first time I was at peace with myself and doing what I wanted with my life. I guess you could say I found my niche.”

  She nodded. “I’m glad you found what you were looking for, Jess,” she whispered. “And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me your story. I’m afraid I feel very tired. Would you mind taking me home now?”

  Jess stared at her for a moment, but she refused to look at him. “All right,” he said finally, turning back to switch on the engine.

  Sara didn’t say a word during the trip back to her house. When Jess parked in front, she picked up her shoes and purse from the floor.