“They split up two months ago. The divorce is in process.”
Jade felt her heart plummet. “So you think there’s something going on?”
Jackie paused. “Well, Jade, let’s just say the signs are all there.” She exhaled slowly. “I thought you should know.”
No, Lord, don’t let it be true!
Jade’s mind raced. Kathy Wittenberg had brought in Channel One and found her primary support in Jim. The two had hit it off and joined a committee to eliminate the Christian influence that classrooms were feeling from certain parents in the district. More time together meant more time for indiscretion. It made perfect sense, and Jade could feel the ground beneath her feet beginning to shift.
“Listen, Jackie, I have to go. Ty’s waiting for me.”
“I’m sorry, Jade.… I didn’t want to tell you.”
“No, don’t be. I needed to know.” Jade closed her eyes. Give me wisdom, God. Please. “Pray for me, will you?”
“Always.”
Jade closed her eyes. She knew Jackie would keep her word, and she was thankful again for her friendship. “I want God to show me the truth … so I don’t have to go out looking for it.”
“I will.”
Jade’s heart was racing, and she felt herself being buried beneath an avalanche of panic. “Jackie … I’m not feeling right.…”
“Remember what you always say, Jade. God must have a plan in all this.”
Yes, that was it. There must be a reason this was happening. “Could … could you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Please, Jackie, pray I’ll know the reason soon.”
Twenty
TANNER EASTMAN HAD FIFTEEN MINUTES BEFORE MEETING WITH his next client, and he intended to use the time to clear his desk. Neatness was not his strong suit. Generally there were a dozen things that seemed more important than tidying his work space, but if he didn’t spend some time organizing soon, Tanner knew he’d have to start over with a second desk.
Office upkeep had been easier back when all he had was a ten-by-ten, rented space with nothing but his name on the door to prove he’d arrived. Now he had ten attorneys working for him, all dedicated to preserving religious freedom. Center for the Preservation of Religious Rights, he called his firm, and it had taken on the moniker CPRR.
As he had been shown during his days in Hungary, God was using him in a mighty way to preserve freedom in the United States. When citizens found themselves in a fight with the ACLU over religious rights, the first group they called was Tanner’s. It was no accident that the two groups’ initials were so closely linked. Tanner liked it that way. The battle had been one-sided until the CPRR came along, and now Tanner felt confident they had successfully slowed the erosion of rights taking place across America. In many instances they had actually restored them.
He collected two files spread across his workspace and placed them back in his cabinet. As he did, his eyes fell on the elegantly framed picture adorning his desk. Leslie Barlow. Daughter of California Supreme Court Justice Ben Barlow. Graduated Harvard, 1997. Accomplished pianist. Mean tennis player. And about to become Tanner’s wife in July—just five months away.
Tanner tried to smile at the thought but felt strangely overwhelmed instead. Which made no sense. Leslie was beautiful and cultured and the perfect adornment for the arm of any prestigious man. His mother had reminded him often how blessed he was that Leslie had come into his life.
Tanner chuckled. His mother used words like blessed for his benefit. Regardless of his devotion to God, she had grown increasingly far from things of the Lord. Tanner knew she only tolerated his choice to start the CPRR and defend cases where people were persecuted for their faith. But she hadn’t approved of it until he became a household name.
Tanner would never forget the incident that put his firm on the legal map.
School officials at Jefferson High, south of Salem, Oregon, had asked a girl to sing for graduation ceremonies and merely to inform them of the artist and song ahead of time. The girl chose a song by Christian artist Steven Curtis Chapman. When the officials realized the song contained Christian lyrics, they cancelled her performance.
The girl’s father was a reporter at the local newspaper, and almost overnight the story took on national public interest. Tanner represented the girl in a lawsuit against the school, and three days before graduation he won the case. The girl was allowed to maintain both her freedom of speech and freedom of religion. In the end a host of reporters covered the ceremony, and the girl sang the song she’d chosen—not just for those in attendance but for a television audience of more than a million.
The aftermath of media attention was both positive and overwhelming.
The program 20/20 did a special on Tanner’s law firm—which at the time included him and a part-time paralegal and operated heavily on donations from churches. Next came 60 Minutes, then Larry King Live. Everyone wanted to know why Tanner Eastman—a brilliant young attorney—had devoted his life to fighting for religious freedom.
The attention drew dozens of cases and then hundreds. Tanner began receiving tremendous donations from mainstream churches and organizations. Many times checks were accompanied by notes of encouragement.
“We’ve allowed the ACLU to tell us their definition of separation of church and state for too long. We’ll support you each month. Godspeed and keep up the good work.”
“I had begun to fear for my safety each time I prayed before lunch,” one high school student wrote. “Thank you and know that now I pray without fear. And when I do pray, I remember you and your law firm.”
Within the month, Tanner was overwhelmed with business. He had to hire a staff of attorneys and move to new offices, which he did in the San Fernando Valley on one of the top floors of a high rise located in the prestigious Warner Center Business Park.
Meeting Leslie was a direct result of his success. They had been introduced two years ago when he gave a presentation to the California Supreme Court. When the session ended, Justice Barlow and his daughter engaged Tanner in conversation. Leslie was stunning, and that night she suggested Tanner take her out to dinner. He gladly obliged, and they had dated ever since.
Tanner’s mother had been thrilled to learn her son was dating the daughter of Ben Barlow. In fact, everyone seemed to agree that she was perfect for Tanner.
On the whole, Tanner agreed with them. He enjoyed himself with Leslie and figured they would be happy together. Only one thing troubled Tanner. Leslie wasn’t a Christian, not in the sold-out sense of the word. She claimed a knowledge of Jesus Christ, but she wasn’t a strong believer.
And she wasn’t Jade Conner.
Tanner sighed as he straightened Leslie’s picture. He had done what he could to find Jade and had turned up nothing. Not that it mattered. She was married and obviously not interested in finding him. Certainly at some time in the past five years she had heard his name mentioned, knew of his organization, perhaps read something in the paper about him.
But not once had she called or made contact.
He ran a hand over his desk, scattering a fine layer of dust. He could hear footsteps in the hall, and he knew his next client had arrived. But before he switched gears, before he devoted his entire attention to the next pressing legal matter, Tanner allowed himself to miss her one more time.
Where is she, God? And how long will I ache for her?
Twenty-one
THE MEETING WAS UNDERWAY, AND BY THE MIXED LOOKS ON THE faces of the school board members, it was going to be a night to remember. Jade ran through her notes one more time. God, help me make sense. Help them understand what children are exposed to because of this program.
Jackie leaned over and squeezed her arm. “No sign of Jim yet.”
Jade felt somewhat relieved. They had argued again before she left. He told her he was staying home, and if she cared at all about what was good for them, she’d forget the meeting. Jade told him she was sorry. Some things simpl
y had to be done and this was one of them. She had taken Ty with her and dropped him off at a baby-sitter’s house.
School board president Bo Hepler began the meeting and summarized the argument from Jade’s Bible study group. Parents were concerned that the programming on Channel One was questionable and exposed children to subject matter that needed parental approval, at best. Then there was the question of the Web site. By following the directions at the bottom of the Channel One screen, children could tap into a world with meeting places that, according to the moms in Jade’s group, would appall most parents in the room. Including those on the school board.
“At this point we’ll open the floor to anyone who’d like to comment on Channel One.” Mr. Hepler scanned the room.
Jade sat near the front of the auditorium and turned and looked over the audience. Her Bible study was there in full force. Joining them this night were more than a hundred members of the PTSA. Jade and Jackie had made a presentation to the group on Monday, imploring them to take an active interest at Wednesday’s meeting. The turnout was more than Jade had hoped for.
Five parents, including an attorney, took turns debating the issue while Jade sat tight, her stack of notes ready for the moment they might be needed. Three of the parents were in favor of pulling the televisions and canceling Channel One. The attorney wanted to keep it.
“Program content should not be an issue where our children are concerned.” He slipped a hand in his coat pocket and strolled in front of the school board. Jade wanted to remind him this wasn’t a trial, but she sat tight.
Tell me when, God. I’m ready if you’ll only give me the words.
The attorney continued about freedom of speech and freedom of opinion and how it did children no good to live sheltered lives when real life was so hard these days.
“Wait a minute.…” One of the parents stopped him with her comment. Jade recognized her from the PTSA meeting. “You’re saying it’s okay to watch a government-sponsored program that—at least once—featured a rock singer whose hate lyrics may have inspired two teenagers to open fire on their classmates in Colorado? You’re saying that kind of person ought to hold our children captive for the first fifteen minutes of a school day?”
“I have a document right here wherein the U.S. Department of Education promises not to feature that singer again. It was an oversight.”
“And what about documentaries where students learn the proper way to use a condom? Was that an oversight also? I send my child to school for an education, not to be spoon-fed whatever material the government determines politically correct. Don’t you think I have a right as a parent to decide what television programming my child watches?”
The debate grew more heated until finally Jade felt it was time. She stood up and waited to be recognized.
“… and as for the Internet problem. I’ve logged onto that Web site and never seen anything remotely objectionable.”
Jade’s hand was up. “Excuse me.” The attention of the board and everyone else in the room was directed to her. She held up her notes. “I have a copy of several items I’ve pulled off that site. I can pass them out if you’d like to see for yourself the types of information our kids are being exposed to.
Mr. Hepler nodded and leaned toward the microphone. “Yes, Mrs. Rudolph. Why don’t you hand them out to the board members.” He looked to the audience. “If there aren’t enough, please share with your neighbor.”
Jade did as he asked and then began reading through a few of the most shocking items. In one case a chat conversation included dialogue between two people who called themselves students and members of a neo-Nazi group. Their discussion, caught in print and now in the hands of most of the people in the room, involved advice on how to make bombs and stockpile ammunition so one of the students could “take care of business” at his local school. There were several exchanges that contained blatantly graphic sexual material.
As she was finishing, there was a sound near the back door. Jade turned and saw Jim walk in. She paused midsentence and—along with everyone in the room—watched him walk past her without so much as a glance and take a seat next to Kathy Wittenberg.
Jade felt her face grow hot. Jim had never ignored her in public before. A ruffling of whispers began to build until Mr. Hepler leaned into the microphone and said, “Go ahead, Ms. Rudolph.” The school board president seemed flustered, though whether by the interruption or by Jim’s choice of seats, Jade wasn’t sure. Either way Mr. Hepler was obviously determined to keep the meeting on track.
Jade’s knees knocked and she felt her convictions waver. Was anything worth the humiliation she was enduring over Channel One? The answer was swift: If I don’t step up, who’s going to fight for freedom in this country once our rights get taken from us?
They were Tanner’s words, and Jade felt a rush of strength at their memory. Tanner had been right. She would fight this battle no matter the cost.
Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith …
The Scripture filled her mind and gave her something concrete to stand on. Okay, Lord, but you’ll have to hold me up. She drew a deep breath and faced the board squarely. “That’s all. I thought you’d like to know the full extent of Channel One before we make a decision on whether to keep it.” Jade nodded to them and took her seat.
“Are there any other comments?” Mr. Hepler looked directly at Jade’s husband, and she watched Kathy squeeze Jim’s arm. They exchanged a glance, and he rose slowly.
“Just a few, if it’s all right.” Jim’s tone was friendly and appealing, and Jade was taken aback. This was the Jim she had married, the one she hadn’t seen at home for months.
“Go ahead.” Mr. Hepler sat back, and Jade had the feeling he sided with her and the Bible study group. Please, Lord, let justice prevail.
Jim turned to face the crowd. “I’m sorry for interrupting the meeting.” He smiled and Jade saw him for the first time through the eyes of strangers. Jim Rudolph could be charming and persuasive, everyone’s favorite teacher. The boy voted most popular at Kelso High so many years ago. “I wanted to go on record as saying that I am in favor of keeping Channel One.” A few people shot backward glances at Jade.
“And one more thing. Many of the moms in favor of pulling Channel One aren’t here tonight for the kids, folks. They’re here with their own political agenda. The agenda of the religious right.”
Jade’s embarrassment evaporated, and she fumed silently, hoping the school board would remember the documents they’d just seen.
Jim went on. “I think it’s time we stop listening to these radical parents and remember the importance of separation of church and state. There’s no place in our schools for religious fanaticism, whether it’s teachers who lead prayer groups during class or parents—” he looked pointedly at Jade—“who think they can force their religion on everyone else.”
He held up a copy of the note Jade had passed out earlier. What? Had he gotten into her file and taken it when she wasn’t looking? Why hadn’t he asked her for a copy? Jade felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. What was he trying to do?
Jim pointed to the notes. “You’ll notice a list of links the Bible study group finds objectionable. These in particular: ‘Why prayer must stay out of the schools.’ And ‘Celebration of Evolution’ along with ‘Abortion, Every Woman’s Choice.’ Look past the righteous indignation here, folks, and see that these women are simply trying to stop schools from teaching truth to our kids. If it goes against their religious viewpoint, these mothers don’t want it.”
Jade glanced around the room and saw several members of the audience nodding and exchanging whispered conversations.…
“I, for one, say we can’t do that. Not today when we are finally understanding the issue of separation of church and state. Let our children decide. Let them have the benefit of a television set in every classroom. And if parents object, let them sign a note that forbids their
student from watching.”
Jim looked at Jade once more, and she wished she could stand and fight him face to face on the issue. But she feared she would sound like a fanatic pitted against him. Besides, he was her husband, and a public debate with him would have the entire room gossiping about their private life for weeks to come.
Her conversation with Jackie two weeks earlier came to mind. Was Jim so invested in Channel One because of his friendship with Kathy? She glanced again at the woman sitting beside her husband. Kathy was barely containing a smile, beaming her support for Jim and everything he was saying. The woman had an unmistakable glow about her, and Jade felt a gut instinct, a woman’s intuition.
Kathy was in love with her husband. She watched Jim make eye contact with Kathy and wink.
This can’t be happening, Lord. Is he really having an affair?
She thought of how Jim had been gone four of the last five nights, and the reality of what was probably happening was finally clear. She could no longer hide from the facts.
Her husband was having an affair with Kathy Wittenberg.
The audience had their eyes glued on Jim as he finished. “Please let our children keep their televisions and the grant money. We have plans to use that money to buy a dozen new computers for the library. Our children deserve the very best in education today. Not a handful of right-wing adults censoring their every thought.” He looked at Mr. Hepler. “Thank you.”
Jade studied the audience and guessed there were probably twenty-five teachers in attendance. When Jim was finished speaking, Kathy rose to her feet in applause, and a majority of the teachers joined her.
As the applause increased, several members of the PTSA—parents who hadn’t been at Monday’s meeting—joined in. Jade knew there were at least twenty PTSA members who supported her, friends and acquaintances who were most definitely appalled by Jim’s statements and behavior that night. Jade watched as many of them began talking amongst each other so that finally Mr. Hepler had to rap his microphone to regain order.
A Moment of Weakness: Book 2 in the Forever Faithful trilogy Page 18
