Close to His Heart

by Carolyne Aarsen

  Tess put on a smile and faced her mother.

  “You look lovely,” her mother said, pressing a kiss to Tess’s cheek. Her mother pulled back frowning, her hands clutching Tess’s. “My goodness, you’re chilled. Your father and I have been looking everywhere for you.” Her mother looked elegant in a dark blue velvet dress and silver bolero. Diamonds sparkled from her ears and necklace. Her eyes flicked over Tess’s dress, and she frowned. “Didn’t you wear that dress to Mark and Sheryl’s wedding?”

  “Seemed a shame not to use it again.”

  “Well, it looks lovely enough.” Her mother smoothed a strand of hair away from Tess’s face. “I made sure we’re sitting at the same table. All the organizers of the fundraiser will sit near the front.”

  “That’s fine, Mom,” Tess said weakly. She was holding herself together by sheer willpower. She hoped her seat wasn’t in Jace’s line of vision, because that would make it too difficult to maintain her composure.

  “All the seats are assigned, my dear. This is a sold-out crowd.” Deborah tugged on Tess’s arm as she worked her way through the crowd to the front of the arena.

  “Here’s our table,” Deborah announced. “Dan, look who I found.”

  Tess’s father was already getting up, smiling at his daughter. He wore a silver-gray suit and black shirt and tie, which only enhanced the few gray strands in his blonde hair. “Lookin’ pretty spiff, Dad,” Tess said, giving him a quick hug.

  “Happy birthday, my dear, and may you be blessed with many more.” Her father returned the hug and pulled back, a concerned look on his face. “I stopped by the coffee shop this week, but Claire said you were sick.”

  “Yeah. I had a weird bug that just wouldn’t go away, but I feel better now.”

  The squeal of a microphone caught her attention and then the chairman, Allen Andrews, stood at the podium. “Everyone, please find your seats,” he said pleasantly. “We need to get started.”

  The crowd shuffled and in a matter of minutes, everyone was sitting down.

  “Let me do that for you, hon,” her father said, helping her into her seat.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Tess murmured as she sat down. Her gaze skittered over the room, still looking for Jace.

  There was an empty seat beside Tess, and she glanced at the place card.

  And panic uncoiled through her.

  Jace Scholte.

  “I want to say a hearty welcome to everyone here tonight,” Allen said, glancing over the crowd. “We’ve got a wonderful program for you, and I want to add my congratulations and thanks to Tess Kraus and Jace Scholte for getting Helen Lennox to sing for us this evening.”

  He turned to Tess and started clapping, and a burst of applause followed. Tess felt a flush of pleasure at the acknowledgment, but that was mixed with nervous apprehension. Jace still hadn’t shown up. Her mother turned in her seat, surveying the full arena, then turned the other way.

  “What’s wrong, Deborah?” Dan asked.

  “I can’t understand where Jace would be. He said he would be sitting with us.”

  Tess wondered if he had decided to forgo the evening. She felt the faintest flicker of hope. If he didn’t come and he had to leave right after the fundraiser, maybe she wouldn’t see him at all.

  But the sense of loss she felt extinguished the hope. She closed her eyes, struggling to find her equilibrium. Ever since Jace had come back to Sweet Creek, the hold she had on her life had been slowly slipping out of her fingers.

  “Sorry I’m late.” The sound of a deep, familiar voice shot Tess’s heart into overdrive, and she looked up in time to see Jace settle into the chair beside her.

  She curbed the beat of anticipation his presence evoked. He wore a black suit, white shirt and gray tie—elegant and far too appealing. The intricate ebb and flow of her emotions was exhausting, and when he turned to look at her, she didn’t know what to cling to anymore.

  “How are you?” he asked, his voice quiet.

  She breathed a sigh of relief at his even tone. He was playing it casual. Thank goodness. Anger would have made her angry in return, and sympathy would have worn down her own fragile defenses. Bland and unemotional was exactly the tone she could emulate.

  “I’m fine,” she said, with a polite nod.

  “Happy birthday, by the way.” She forced a smile, acknowledging his greeting.

  Then Allen was dictating the order the tables would be eating. Theirs was the second one.

  A few moments later she was at the table with food in front of her, which gave her something to concentrate on. Thankfully, her parents and the other people at the table kept the conversation going. Tess only contributed when spoken to, skating her fork across her plate in a vague attempt at eating.

  It would be a long evening. She wanted to duck out and run away, but she fought the urge. She had spent enough of her life running away.

  “I understand Helen will be singing a little longer this evening,” her mother said to Jace. “To fill in for the speaker.”

  Jace nodded and wiped his mouth with a napkin, then laid it on his plate. “We’re so thankful she could do this. But it was thanks to Tess’s connections that we got her at all.” He shot her a sidelong glance, and for a moment, she couldn’t look away, pleased at his acknowledgment of her involvement.

  “I didn’t know that,” Deborah responded, her incredulous tone almost, but not quite, wounding Tess. Jace’s approbation of her balanced it out.

  In spite of that, nothing had changed. What he had given her was a kind of parting gift. He was still leaving.

  Her heart contracted at the thought.

  For a few wonderful moments, she had envisioned them together. Side by side. But the dream was over, and reality had taken its place. Jace’s dreams left no room for her. Or for Sweet Creek.

  The conversation drifted along, covering local politics, a new business starting in Sweet Creek, Claire’s coffee shop, and a myriad of other topics that Tess had a hard time concentrating on. She was far too aware of Jace sitting so close, yet so far out of reach.

  A PowerPoint presentation dealing with the center followed the dinner. As soon as it was done, and the lights came back on, Tess stood.

  “I’d better give Helen some moral support,” she said by way of an excuse, grateful for a reason to leave.

  Tess walked to the front of the arena and ducked behind the curtains. Backstage, Helen stood to one side, adorned in a simple, off-white dress spangled with sequins and a silky orange shawl draped over her shoulders. She wore her hair loose.

  Her hands were twined around each other.

  “How are you doing?” Tess asked.

  Helen blew out a sigh. “I’m okay. I guess.”

  Tess frowned, noticing Helen’s wan look.

  “Just pre-performance jitters,” Charlie said, standing beside her, rubbing his wife’s back.

  Tess had had to look twice at Charlie. The leather blazer over the open-necked shirt and new blue jeans was surprise enough—but his shining cheeks and neatly groomed hair gave him a dapper air that made Tess realize what Helen had initially seen in Charlie.

  “You will do great,” Tess said soothingly, trying to ease Helen’s nerves.

  Tess heard Allen on stage. He had moved onto the next part of the program and was giving more information about the center and how the funds from tonight would be used.

  “You sure you’ll be okay?” Charlie whispered to Helen, looking nervous himself. Helen nodded, but Tess saw the concern in his eyes as he hovered close to his wife.

  “I’ll be okay. Just give me a few minutes,” Helen said, smoothing her palms down the sides of her dress.

  “Okay. There’s my cue. I’ll go warm up the crowd. I’m leaving her in your capable hands.” Charlie patted Tess on the shoulder. Charlie gave Helen a quick kiss, caught his guitar by the neck, and disappeared through the curtains onto the stage.

  The lights dimmed, and soon, his mellow voice filled the auditorium.

 
Helen drew in a long, slow breath as she shook her head, her golden hair spilling down her back. She gave Tess a pensive smile. “You know this is the first time I’ve performed since...” Her voice faded off.

  As their eyes held, Tess felt a sudden jolt of awareness. She recalled how Helen had hinted that she had struggled with feelings of inadequacy and self-worth before she met Charlie.

  “Since what?” she coaxed gently, hoping Helen would confide in her.

  Helen paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “That night when you came over...” Her voice drifted off again as she looked back at the stage. “I had a feeling, a vague idea, that you knew what I’ve dealt with.”

  Tess thought of Helen’s songs she had been listening to on the evening of her and Jace’s fight. She thought of the connection she felt with the words of loss and pain.

  “What do you mean?”

  Helen held her gaze as if trying to draw something from her. She pulled in another breath as if readying herself. “I mean that my life was torn apart by a man who assaulted me. A man who raped me.”

  Tess reached behind her to steady herself as her world spun around. She turned away from Helen’s steady gaze. “I...I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  Helen’s voice softened with pity. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

  Tess wavered on the edge of confession, but old habits were hard to break.

  “Tell them what?”

  “You don’t need to carry this alone, you know. God is always there to help you carry your griefs, your sorrows, your loss. But so is your family. Your friends.”

  Tess swallowed a knot of pain and sorrow. She glanced through the curtain at Charlie, then at Helen.

  “You have someone,” Tess whispered. “Someone who understands you, who feels the same way you do. Someone who shares your values and dreams.”

  Helen tilted her head to one side then touched Tess gently on the cheek. “You do, too. I know Jace cares deeply for you.”

  “Jace cares more for his job. He has his own dreams. After tonight, he’s gone,” Tess said.

  “Maybe you should give him a reason to stay.”

  “What reason would that be?”

  “That you care for him. And I think he needs to know what you’ve had to deal with,” Helen urged.

  Tess thought of the burden she carried and wondered if she could ever put it on Jace’s shoulders. Wondered if he would understand what happened to her, if he would even believe her.

  Tess glanced over her shoulder and through the curtains. Charlie was sitting on a stool, still singing; and just beyond him, face lit by the soft glow of the candles on their table, was Jace. He was looking in her direction, and in that moment she felt a connection.

  Could she tell him?

  Tess turned away, the doubts and fears that she had carefully hidden away all these years awash in her mind.

  “We hide because we’re ashamed,” Helen said, her words striking a chord. “Even though it’s not our fault, we still hide, we hurt, and we tell no one. I think if I were more honest, more open, I would have gotten help sooner.” Helen laid a light hand on Tess’s shoulder. “People want to help and they want to understand. Like I said, you don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

  Tess faced her, a faint spark of hope igniting in her. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “Of course you are. So was I. But you have family and community.” She paused. “And now, I have a set to perform—and you should get back to that very handsome man who, I think, cares for you more than you realize.”

  Tess stood rooted in place, wishing fervently that she could share Helen’s confidence about a future with Jace.

  Charlie finished the song and was greeted with a warm applause, then Allen came to the microphone again. He thanked Charlie and told a couple of jokes that received polite laughter.

  Charlie came backstage and glanced from Helen to Tess, concern furrowing his brow.

  “Everything okay here?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” Helen reassured him. She gave Tess a knowing smile, then turned to Charlie, adjusted the collar of his shirt, and patted him on the chest. “Let’s go,” she said. Then she swept onto the stage, leaving Tess behind.

  Tess watched as the lights caught the sparkles of Helen’s dress, bathing her in an aura of light. She waited a moment, trying to still the erratic beating of her heart, then she returned to her table, ignoring a questioning look from Jace.

  She sat back, letting Helen’s rich contralto flow over her. Her first few songs were older ones, and she invited people to sing along. She paused between songs to explain what inspired her to write them and what they meant to her.

  Tess felt some of the tension, gripping her the past week, ease away with the folksy, familiar songs and Helen’s easy way with the crowd. One would never have guessed that only a few moments ago, she was as nervous and uptight as Tess was now. She just had to get through tonight, Tess thought, unable to block out Jace’s profile in her peripheral vision.

  In spite of Helen’s assurances, after this evening, he would be gone, working with Chuck and Carson MacGregor.

  Her throat closed, and for a frightening moment, tears threatened. She struggled to stay on top of her emotions. She couldn’t break now. She stole a quick sideways glance his way, and her heart pounded when she caught him looking at her.

  Their eyes clung, and it seemed he was seeking something she didn’t dare give him.

  The truth.

  His gaze softened for a moment, and her breath caught in her throat as he raised his hand from the table as if to touch her.

  Then Helen was speaking again, and Tess wrenched her eyes back to the stage.

  “This next song comes from a place that I had avoided for many years in my life,” Helen said, settling onto a stool onstage. She glanced offstage and nodded quickly.

  The arena lights were lowered, and Helen, lit by the single spotlight, shone like a beacon.

  “I wrote this song out of pain and shame, never thinking I would perform it in public. But tonight, I know I have to.” Helen looked at Charlie, who smiled back at her.

  Then she turned to Tess.

  “When I signed my first recording contract, I thought my life was heading down the path I had envisioned for myself since my father bought me my first guitar. I had dreams and for many years they were coming true. I had success and adulation. I had money.” She looked over the audience again, in that disconcerting way of hers that saw past the facade to hidden secrets. “But I didn’t know how badly things would go for me. I didn’t know how easily dreams could be shattered and discarded by the actions of one person.”

  Tess couldn’t stop the quick intake of her breath. She is doing it, she thought. She is going to bare her soul in front of these strangers.

  Helen’s voice grew lower, quieter as she related the horrific turn her life took when a man she had put her trust in, who had promised to take care of her, had found her alone one night.

  As she shared her story, Tess felt as if Helen was painstakingly drawing out Tess’s secrets for all to see. She felt the shame of that evening. The pain. The humiliation. And then the fear.

  She wanted Helen to stop, willed the story to end. She couldn’t do this.

  She had to get out. She had to leave. The huge arena was pressing in on her, growing smaller, suffocating her.

  She pressed her hand to her chest, fighting for breath.

  Keep me safe, O God, for in You I take refuge.

  The Bible verse slipped into her mind and she clung to the comfort. She had taken refuge in God. It had taken time, but she would trust that He would help her through this.

  To her utter surprise, she felt Jace’s hand resting on hers. She gave in to an impulse and curled her fingers around his.

  Just these few moments, she thought, relishing the warmth of his touch, savoring the strength of his hand. Just these few more precious moments.

  Charlie kept strumming his guitar,
laying down a gentle counterpoint to Helen’s spoken words.

  Helen looked over the audience, a smile playing around the edges of her lips. “I realized that the journey I was taking was one from thinking myself unworthy of success and happiness, to God showing me that my value wasn’t and isn’t in who I am to the world, but who I am to Him.”

  She turned to Charlie. “More important, God opened my eyes to a support network. I only wish it hadn’t taken me so long to find a community to call my own. If I had, it could have made a difference in my recovery.”

  She faced the audience again.

  “I want to challenge all of you to seek out the wounded and weary and give them rest. I received help and hope the moment I let other people into my life and into my pain. I hope this center will give other lost and hurting souls of this community an opportunity to find peace and to accept help.”

  She paused then spoke again.

  “In light of that, I want to sing this last song that I wrote while living here in Sweet Creek. A song that is a waypoint for my journey. I hope this song might give any of you who are struggling with secret sorrow and shame some hope, some scrap of dignity and courage to face your fears.”

  She began singing, and Tess felt her heart rejoice with the words. Helen’s song was an anthem of hope, of being strong by being weak enough to show hidden pain. As she sang, Tess felt herself receive strength. And with Jace’s hand holding hers, she felt hope.

  The last note of Helen’s clear voice hovered in the hushed auditorium then faded away. A heavy pause, more eloquent than any applause, fell on the gathering.

  And then people surged to their feet, applauding wildly.

  As Tess stood, she knew what she had to do.

  Jace’s hand tightened on hers. “Are you okay?” He leaned closer, speaking just loud enough for her to hear.

  She turned to him and reached up and touched her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t even realized she had shed.

  “What’s wrong, Tess?” His concern underlined her decision. She hadn’t been fair to him, and she couldn’t let him leave before she bared her soul. She had kept this from him far too long.

  She was tired of hiding. Tired of running. As Helen had said, her value was in how God saw her, not what had happened to her.