****
Matt had paced and cried and tried to pray the whole time Maddie was gone. He picked up the phone a dozen times to call Allen or his dad, but put it back each time. He didn’t know what he would say.
The conversation replayed over and over in his head. He’d handled it badly; he’d said it wrong. But then he never could come up with the right response. He kept walking out to the parking lot, hoping to see her car, wishing the snow would stop, and then coming back inside. He waited for the phone to ring, Maddie telling him she was never coming back, or the police to tell him she’d had an accident. He put away dinner, tried to clean, even tried to work, but after a few minutes on one task he was up and pacing again, sick at heart for what he’d done and trying to brainstorm any possible solutions. As the hours ticked by and he realized how unfixable this was, his anxiety increased.
When he heard the front door open, he turned to face it, and relief washed over him. Maddie didn’t look at him as she limped inside, her sandals tracking in snow and her face pinched. He froze for a few seconds, so glad to see her, and then sprung forward, wanting to hold her and tell her a million times how sorry he was.
“Maddie, I was worried sick.”
“I need my pills,” she said.
Matt filled up a glass with water while she opened her pill bottle with shaking hands. She swallowed the tablets and walked slowly to the couch with her hand on her abdomen. She winced as she sat down. Matt watched her anxiously, wishing he knew what to say.
“What are you going to do?” Maddie asked. She looked beaten and exhausted. He wished he could ask her to wait another day for them to talk about it.
“I don’t know,” he said, standing in the kitchen and looking at the floor.
“Surely in all the weeks you’ve known about this, you’ve thought about what you’ll do,” Maddie said, her voice laced with judgment.
He couldn’t meet her gaze. “Not really,” he said. “I mean, I’ll have to get an attorney, but I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t want to think about it.”
“And what about us?” she whispered.
“What do you mean?” he asked, looking up.
Maddie shrugged as if the question were a casual one. “What’s left for us, Matt?” she said with sorrow and fatigue in her voice. “You’re not the man I thought you were, and I’m not the woman you thought I was when we got married. Neither of us signed up for what we’re facing.”
“Maddie, you’re everything I ever wanted. From the moment we met, I had no doubt you were the woman I wanted to spend my life with.”
“But you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth?” she replied, shaking her head and staring at her hands in her lap. “And you only showed me the parts of yourself you wanted me to see—you didn’t give me a fair chance. You should have followed up with this girl better—and you shouldn’t have gone on a mission and tried to pass yourself off the way you have. Do you realize that?”
“So if you’d known what I’d done, even though I repented, even though it only happened one time, even though this girl had promised me and the bishop that there was no pregnancy, even though I was forgiven for doing what I did and even though I did get to serve that mission, you wouldn’t have married me?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I would have liked the chance to decide it for myself rather than being tricked into it.”
“I didn’t trick you,” Matt said, his eyes filling with tears as his heart sank even lower. “I was forgiven. It was as if it hadn’t happened.”
“Don’t give me that,” she spat. “It did happen and it’s part of who you are. You obviously didn’t make things right if you never thought out the consequences of what you’d done. You could have been a carrier for a sexually transmitted disease, Matt. I deserved to know about things that very much affect my future.”
Matt was speechless, surprised by her lack of understanding, her discounting of all he’d done back then to overcome his mistake. For a brief moment he wondered if he had been wrong about her, and yet she was right—but still missing the point. He wasn’t the same person who had slept with some girl he didn’t even know. He had left it behind him.
“I can’t ever have your children, but someone else could and someone else quite possibly did. We don’t have what we used to have, Matt—or what I thought we used to have. Maybe that distance is okay with you. Maybe you’ve always felt it, since you didn’t think I could handle the truth. But it’s not enough for me. I want what I thought we had when we started out, and I don’t know if it’s even possible.”
Matt felt like he’d been hit in the face with a baseball bat. “We don’t know if this kid is mine,” he said. “I know that’s only part of it, but what we have is worth saving. It’s worth fighting for. I was wrong, I know I was. But it doesn’t make all the good things null and void.”
“Why not?” Maddie said. She was so diplomatic about it, almost cold. “What is it you see between us that I don’t? Because all I see are two people unequipped to meet one another’s needs who have been very unhappy for a very long time.”
“I love you,” Matt said with tenderness.
Maddie snorted and shook her head. “That’s not enough, and you know it.”
Matt blinked. “It’s something to build on.”
“So is trust and having a family—but those things are done. How about factoring child support into our budget? What about me being forced into playing stepmom to your child? How will I ever know if you’re telling me the truth about anything?” She paused. “When we make love, do you think about this girl? Do you daydream about where she is, what she’s doing? Is she the one that got away, Matt, the happy place you go to when life gets tough?”
Cold washed over Matt. “I have nothing but anger and pity for that girl, now more than ever. I don’t think about her. I don’t think about it at all, not ever. Other than this one thing, I’ve always been honest with you.”
“This one thing,” Maddie asked, raising her eyebrows. “You treat it as if you skipped a tithing payment once. This is huge. More than huge.”
Matt looked down, holding back the tears. He didn’t know what else to say. He just shook his head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “And I do love you—so much.”
“Matt,” she said, pushing herself to her feet and looking hard at him. There were no tears in her eyes, and he wished she would cry. The coldness was worse than the anger and sorrow. At least when she was crying and yelling, he knew what was going on inside her. “I don’t know what to do with all this. In some ways you feel like a stranger, with a whole other life you kept from me.”
“I was eighteen,” he said.
“I was eighteen once too,” Maddie said, heat in her voice now. “But I kept my covenants, and I never gave you any reason to believe I wasn’t a virgin. You never gave me any reason either, but you weren’t. You’ve known about this test for weeks, and you didn’t tell me.
“I want to feel like I’m in love with you, like I’m safe with you. I want to honor you and respect you, but I’m not sure I can do that anymore. Our lives are different now. You might have to go to court hearings and custody battles. Our chances of adopting might be affected. This . . . girl could be a part of our lives now, and her kid. I’m having a hard time convincing myself I want a life like that.”
“Maddie, I’m so sorry,” he said, moving toward her, but stopping when she stepped back. “I never wanted to hurt you, never. But all those things you’ve said assume I’m the father—we don’t know that.”
She paused. “When will you know?”
“Sometime next week, I think.”
Maddie stood there for several moments, staring at the floor. “I can’t stay here.”
“What?”
“I’ll go to a hotel for a few days to think things out. I don’t want to be with you.”
“Maddie . . .”
There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. “Don’t tell me how
to handle this, Matt,” she said, her voice shaking. “I need to do this my way if I’m going to do it at all. If you fight me, I’ll leave and never come back.”
Matt was shocked. “Don’t say that.”
“Then don’t push me,” she retorted. “You’ve had plenty of time to figure this out. Ten years, in fact.”
Matt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he nodded. “Will you tell me where you’re staying?”
She didn’t answer his question. “I’ll call you in a few days. Hopefully by then you’ll have decided what you’re going to do, and I’ll have reached a conclusion myself.”
“I love you, Maddie,” he said, wanting to get that in as many times as he could.
She turned and walked down the hall. “I’ll leave tomorrow—well, today,” she said. He heard the door to the guest room close, and a moment later the lock clicked into place. He stood there alone, and finally fell to his knees. He pleaded with the Lord that she would stay, that they could fix this. A little voice in his head reminded him that he’d been told to tell her long before now. He found himself trying to justify his actions in his prayer and then stopped. The Lord knew. He knew everything, and He’d given Matt a warning—several, in fact. Matt had ignored them all.
Matt opened his eyes and stared across the room, looking at nothing. Consequences. Such a small word compared to what it meant. He’d always been taught he could make any choice he wanted, but couldn’t choose the consequences. Here he was, overwhelmed with consequences. His marriage was on the line, and his wife was crying herself to sleep behind a locked door. He dropped his head once more and begged for forgiveness—not for the sin so many years ago, but for ignoring the help he had asked for and for hurting his wife. He could only hope that he could be forgiven of those things and that the consequences would be something he could live with.
Chapter 20
Maddie checked into the Iron Blosam Lodge at Snowbird the next afternoon, glad to be out of the house and away from reminders of the life she shared with a man she felt she didn’t know anymore. The room had a kitchenette, a fireplace, and a queen bed that she would sleep in alone. The view from the balcony looked over the snow-covered mountains, still dotted with skiers getting the most out of the record snowfalls. While unpacking her suitcase full of sweats and T-shirts, she came across the manila envelope Matt had left out on the counter that morning. Though tempted to leave it there, she’d thrown it in the suitcase at the last moment. The envelope was the same kind her teacher used to send her artwork home in at the end of the semester when she was in elementary school. On the front of this envelope, Matt had written a note in magic marker.
Maddie,
Here are all the letters and other correspondence I’ve received about this as well as my own explanation—the one thing missing is the first note. I threw it away but wish I’d have kept it now. I hope it doesn’t make things worse, but I haven’t had the chance to explain how everything happened, and I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore. I’m so sorry. I do love you.
Matt
She put the envelope in a dresser drawer. For now she needed the distance. Once unpacked she bundled up and walked slowly to the small grocery store located a quarter mile up the mountain. By the time she got back with some cereal, Cup o’ Noodles, and bread, she needed a nap.
For the next three days she slept and spent a lot of time looking out the window, watching the skiers and falling snow. She stepped away from her emotions and made several different plans for her life, most of which didn’t include Matt. She could start a new life without him, and maybe then she would be happy. David in accounting had been left with two kids when his wife walked out last year. Someone like that would be perfect for her. She could fill the gap in their family. She could belong to them and find part of the dream she had lived for all her life. As it was, there were more gaps than filled-in spaces with her and Matt.
Perhaps she wouldn’t find anyone else. Maybe she’d be alone, spend her life being the best she could be all by herself. It had to be better than this. Maybe the burning desire she’d always had for a family was a sick game someone was playing with her. There were lots of women who didn’t want kids. Why couldn’t she be one of them? Why couldn’t she feel the drive for a career instead? Or travel, or politics—something that had nothing to do with being a mother?
None of her ideas sounded all that tempting. They weren’t what she wanted, but then the life she had wasn’t what she wanted either. She was glad she wasn’t home. Being there made her feel too angry, made her want to punish Matt, and that didn’t deserve her energies right now. She just needed to think. She needed to face the different futures she had, and she couldn’t do that with Matt watching her, begging for her forgiveness.
Forgiveness. What did that mean, anyway? It wouldn’t change anything that had happened or what was going to happen. Wasn’t it showing him that what he’d done was okay with her? It wasn’t okay. The more she thought about forgiving him, the angrier she became.
On the fourth day she opened her scriptures. Up until a month ago she had read every day, at least a chapter. The scriptures had always brought her comfort—though she couldn’t help wondering now what good it had done. But it was a habit, and as habits go, it wasn’t broken easily. No matter how much she tried to talk herself out of it, she was drawn to them.
She turned to where the silver ribbon marked her place and picked up where she had left off in the Doctrine and Covenants. She read off and on all day. The TV tempted her several times, but an inner prodding kept her turning pages. It had been so long since she had felt an inner anything that she didn’t dare ignore it. There was no divine inspiration or wondrous peaceful feeling, but her heart and her mind agreed that if she wanted solace, she had to turn to God somehow—even if she felt He’d let her down. She’d been unable to pray since the flat prayer in the car Wednesday night. But something within her craved a connection to things greater than herself, and so she turned page after page, reading word after word in hope of . . . something.
Around nine o’clock she came to section 58. When she hit the second verse in the section, she read, “For verily I say until you, blessed is he that keepeth my commandments, whether in life or in death; and he that is faithful in tribulation, the reward of the same is greater in the kingdom of heaven.”
She tossed the scriptures on the bed as even more anger overwhelmed her. So much for solace. She had kept the commandments, all of them. No, she wasn’t perfect, but she had always done what she was supposed to do. She followed the Spirit; she kept her covenants. This very scripture promised her blessings. For a few more seconds she fumed, but then her eyes went back to the book, now lying on the bed. She picked it up again and read the next verse, despite the anger still raging inside.
“Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation.”
Her eyes began to fill as the Spirit touched her, finally. She still felt a little rebellious. She didn’t want glory in the hereafter, she wanted peace now. But something inside her had awakened, and she kept reading. “For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory; the hour is not yet, but is nigh at hand.”
A life of misery sounded like a high price to pay for joy on the other side. Was her life meant to be full of sorrow and regret? She knew it wasn’t.
“So why is this happening?” she asked out loud. In the next moment she was taken back to a woman she had taught on her mission—a woman she hadn’t thought about in years. The woman was in her forties and had struggled with addiction, abusive men, and a lot of poor choices for most of her life. But she was humble, and when Maddie and her companion knocked on her door one morning, she invited them in. After a few lessons she became confused, wondering why, if there was a God who loved her, she had endured so much suffering. Mad
die had felt it was due to her bad choices, but her companion had turned to section 122 in the Doctrine and Covenants. Maddie turned there now to reread what her companion had read that day. Back then it was powerful, but now, when she looked at herself through the words, she knew she had never fully appreciated the message before.
“And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.
“The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?
“Therefore, hold on thy way, and the priesthood shall remain with thee; for their bounds are set, they cannot pass. Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever.”
Maddie wiped at the tears on her cheeks and read the final verse again. The word priesthood stood out to her as if it were bold and highlighted with neon arrows pointing it out. She picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Mom?” she said, trying to control her voice.
“Maddie,” her mom said with relief. “I’ve been calling all weekend and keep getting the machine. We were just talking about coming over to see you.”
More tears fell, and she swallowed her embarrassment. “I’m not home, but I need some help. Is Dad there?”
Unsung Lullaby Page 10
