by Mata Elliott
“How do you do that?”
“Well, in order to know someone, you have to fellowship with them, right?”
Rave nodded.
“In order to know God, you have to spend time with Him.”
“Like praying?”
“Yes. And reading His Word.”
Rave bit down on her bottom lip, and a shy blush stained her cheeks. “Do you really think He loves me?”
Tears formed in the corners of Cassidy’s eyes. “He loves you, Rave.”
“Will you help me talk to Him?”
“We’ll say the prayer Pastor Audrey uses.” She bowed her head. “Dear Jesus, I believe You died on the cross for my sins and rose from the dead.”
Rave repeated each word.
Cassidy continued, “Forgive me for my sins and come into my heart,” but Rave was silent this time. Cassidy waited, not wanting to rush her. The decision to accept Christ was one Rave had to make for herself. Some seconds later, Cassidy heard Rave sniffle and sigh, and she knew God was working on Rave’s heart. Rave’s voice trembled with emotion as she asked God for forgiveness.
Cassidy led the next part of the prayer. “Take complete control of my life, Lord. Make and mold me in Your image.”
Rave voiced both sentences, then repeated the last line with profound conviction. “I will walk with You from this moment forward and love You with my heart, mind, and soul.”
“Amen,” Cassidy said.
A sparkle showed through the tears on Rave’s face as she echoed, “Amen.”
chapter thirty-eight
Typical of the day before the weekend, customers filed in and out of Seconds at a steady rate. Trevor lingered on the first floor, greeting the patrons. He carried a cake to the car of a young man on crutches, then went upstairs to his office to review a pile of applications. Before he could read through the first résumé, Grace rushed in. Visibly shaken, she met his gaze with troubled eyes, and in the same moment, they both remembered that other time she’d burst into his office this way.
Trevor pushed aside the paperwork and stood in a hurry, all of his pores spitting beads of clammy sweat. “Who?” was all he could push forth, accepting that someone he loved was in trouble.
Grace vented a labored breath and answered, “Cassidy.”
At the hospital fifteen minutes later, Trevor blurted to the nurse at the station, “My wife is here.”
She turned to a computer screen. “Her name?”
“Room 12, room 12,” Trevor chanted, quickly passing cube-shaped rooms with peach-colored curtains for doors. His heart in a knot, he braced for the worst and shoved aside the curtain of room 12. A young doctor with red hair and freckles looked up from his metal stool seat. Cassidy, stretched on a gurney and dressed in a hospital gown, also met Trevor’s gaze.
“Trevor,” she said, her mouth easing into a smile.
Happy to see her, too, he let his hand come down over hers as his eyes searched for some visible injury. He didn’t see blood, and she wasn’t hooked up to any tubes, but he was only marginally relieved. “What happened?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice stable.
“I suddenly became tired, and everything started spinning . . .”
The doctor rose. His hand met Trevor’s in the air above Cassidy’s stomach. “I’m Dr. Falk. Are you the husband?”
“Yes,” he answered, then questioned the doctor, looking at Cassidy the whole time. “Is Cassidy all right?”
“We did an EKG, and the results were normal. Your wife’s lab results, however, show she has iron-deficiency anemia, which means a decrease in the number of red cells in the blood caused by insufficient iron. But overall, Mrs. Monroe appears to be in good physical health. As I’ve explained to her”—he looked at Cassidy, then at Trevor—“there could be a repeat of today’s episode, or she could eventually develop serious health problems if she doesn’t maintain a better diet. Food is to the body what gasoline is to a car. I’ve advised Mrs. Monroe that although she may feel stressed, she needs to eat.” His gaze returned to Cassidy. “It might be wise for you to talk to someone. Before you leave, I’ll give you the name of several doctors who deal with anxiety-related issues. How are you feeling now?”
“Better.”
“I’ll write you a prescription for oral iron supplements and give you that list of iron-rich foods.” Cassidy’s chart lay on the bed next to her, and the doctor picked it up. “The nurse will be back in to check your vital signs again. If all is well, you can be discharged.”
As the doctor exited, Trevor sighed and kissed his wife’s forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Their grip remained intact, and she brought his hand to her lips. The sound of a baby crying filtered into the room, and somewhere a man shouted out, “Nurse, help me,” every ten seconds or so. “I’m chilly,” Cassidy said, and Trevor pulled the sheet over her feet and up to her chest.
They shared the next silent moments with feelings streaming between them twisted and tense, as this was the first conversation they’d had since Trevor had taken Kendall to the hotel last night. Cassidy was asleep when he got back, and this morning he overslept and had to rush out. He pondered if he should tell Cassidy what had happened with Kendall. He quickly decided against it. Cassidy wasn’t feeling well, and he would not risk making her feel worse.
Cassidy’s stomach growled, and they both smiled. He already knew the answer but asked, “Did you have breakfast?”
She wagged her head no.
“If I bring you something from the cafeteria, will you eat it?”
She wagged yes.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised. He walked through the corridor, turned right, and bumped into the shoulder of a man.
“Trevor,” Dunbar said in greeting.
“Cassidy called you?” Trevor said right away with somber discontent in his tone.
“She was with me when she became ill. I’m the one who brought her here.” Dunbar straightened his tie.
Grateful that Cassidy was in one piece, Trevor hadn’t thought about where she’d been when she’d taken ill—Trevor glowered at Dunbar—or whom she’d been with. This wasn’t the day Cassidy and Dunbar usually walked, and the image of them hanging out together just for fun forced a surge of blood to Trevor’s head that pained his temples. Before they were married, he should have been honest and told Cassidy that he was uncomfortable with the relationship she shared with Dunbar. But he didn’t think he had the right to ask her to give up a friend, because that’s all Dunbar was—a friend. Now Trevor wondered if Dunbar had become more. Maybe Cassidy talked to Dunbar about the things she couldn’t discuss with him. Maybe their relationship had deepened to a physical level. Trevor hated to think like this, but since Cassidy had been so cold toward him lately, he regarded such thoughts as legitimate.
“I’m on my way to get Cassidy something from the cafeteria.” His voice was steel. “I’d appreciate it if you weren’t here when I returned.” Trevor broke eye contact and assumed a brisk pace past Dunbar, ignoring the inner menacing voice that coaxed him to punch the man in the face.
Cassidy and Trevor walked along a set of bricks that snaked to the side of the parsonage. “I’m sorry I made us late,” she said. As soon as she arrived home from the hospital, she’d climbed into bed. She slept into the early evening without waking once. Cassidy told Trevor he should have awakened her sooner, but he’d said she needed the sleep, and they could reschedule this evening’s session with the pastor if she wanted to stay home and rest.
Trevor slipped his hand around hers as they continued over the path. The warmth from Trevor’s palm felt better than a wool sweater on a cold day. She didn’t want to release him, but it was necessary, since the stairwell leading down to the basement level was so narrow. The first to reach the bottom, she turned to notice Trevor on the step behind her. His eyes talked to her eyes, and her eyes talked, too, and they both perceived that being here was evidence that both of them wanted something more for their marri
age. When Trevor first told her that the pastor wanted this meeting, apprehension became her wall of defense. But the pastor assured there would be no discussion of her sexual dysfunction unless she mentioned it. This was to be a general session, one he engaged in with married couples from time to time. Most of the marriage counseling at Charity Community had been delegated to a counseling staff, but Clement liked to stay in touch with couples in crisis, and Cassidy consented, more at ease with Clement than with anyone else.
Natasha answered the door. “Hi,” the teen shouted. She had on a headset connected to a portable CD player. Cassidy couldn’t tell what song was playing, but she could hear drums.
“Hi,” Cassidy said along with Trevor, and Natasha invited them inside with another shout.
“My dad’s in his office.” She pulled off the headset, and her voice plunged to normal. “You can go on back.”
“Thanks,” Cassidy and Trevor spoke together again. Natasha returned the headset to her ears, tossed a bunch of the braided extensions that hung to her waist over her shoulders, and jogged to the other side of the room and up the stairs.
While waiting for Clement to respond to the knock on his office door, Cassidy stared from corner to corner of the spacious basement, taking in the sparkling white kitchenette, the glass dining table and four fabric chairs, the leather sofa that faced an on-the-wall plasma television, and a huge aquarium built in the wall and populated with brightly colored fish.
Clement smiled as soon as he saw them. “Come on in and have a seat. Would you like coffee, juice, water?” he said, gesturing toward a small bar.
“No, thank you.” Cassidy and Trevor exchanged amused glances, having spoken in unison a third time. Cassidy thought that if she and her husband were always so in sync, there might not be a need for this meeting.
“Thank you for coming,” Clement said. “Have a seat.” Four armchairs were set in a square, and Cassidy and Trevor sat next to each other. The round coffee table in the middle held a Bible. Cassidy fiddled with her bracelet and for a moment thought of Dunbar.
Clement sat across from them. “As I told Trevor when I spoke with him on the phone, this meeting is informal. It’s an opportunity to let you both know I’m praying for you, and I’m here to help in any way I can. The first year of marriage can be difficult.” He smiled. “I remember well.” Cassidy glanced at the wall. There was a wedding picture, the same pose but smaller than the version in the Audrey living room. Cassidy carried her vision back and forth across the wall, admiring the other family pictures. Most of them were taken when Natasha was still in patent-leather shoes and Vivaca’s hair was longer, Clement’s waist smaller.
Cassidy turned to Clement, already opening their session in prayer. She peeked at Trevor, positioned with his spine curled forward, his hands clasped and hanging between his knees. His eyes were closed, and his nose pointed to the carpet. Cassidy tightened her eyelids, too.
The prayer ended, and Clement asked, “Are you two praying together at home?”
Cassidy and Trevor linked stares. His eyes were a reflection of her thoughts. They rarely prayed together or read God’s Word together.
“In my opinion,” Clement started, “joint prayer is the deepest form of intimacy a couple can experience. It needs to be incorporated into your marriage daily. Vivaca and I pray together every day, even when one of us is out of town. No, it’s not always easy to pray with her or for her when we’ve been arguing. But what I’ve found is, I can’t talk to God and fight with Vivaca at the same time.” Clement gave them several moments to meditate. “The devil, not each other, is your enemy. So pray together and pray the Word of God. It’s the weapon that pulls down the barriers which keep us from fulfillment with Christ”—he paused to study them both—“and each other.”
chapter thirty-nine
The next morning Cassidy brushed her teeth and tongue, eliminating the taste of the veggie omelet she had for breakfast. She’d eaten the whole thing. Had a glass of juice, a slice of toast, and a dish of honeydew, too. Another emergency room visit was the last thing she wanted, so hungry or not, no stress or stressed-out, she was going to eat. She’d already taken steaks out of the freezer for lunch.
A mint-flavored tingle in her mouth, she strolled from the bathroom and straightened the sheets, making the bed. The pillows in place and the bedding smooth, Cassidy ambled in front of the bureau mirror and untied the scarf she’d worn to prevent her braids from frizzing as she slept. She swept the cloth from her head and combed her fingers through the braids, gently lifting them and letting them swoop back to her shoulders. She’d showered before eating, and now she removed her robe and dressed in the white T-shirt and panty set Trevor had given her on their honeymoon. “A gag gift,” he’d teased as they both remembered and laughed about the time he walked in on her in the bathroom.
A furry coat wrapped around Cassidy’s ankle, and she glanced down. She still would not brand herself a cat person, but this one had found a place in her heart. She stooped and massaged Poopie between the ears. The cat purred appreciation and strutted out of the room.
Cassidy finished dressing, adding only a pair of checkered lounge pants to her ensemble. It was a stay-at-home-and-do-very-little Saturday. She had canceled out of the senior center for today. She needed the rest. She needed to meditate. She reached for her Bible. Last evening Clement had given her and Trevor a list of scriptures to study, independently and as a couple, and she thought she’d read over a few of them. It was the perfect morning to spend time with God. The house was empty. Trevor had gotten up early, taken the kids out for breakfast, and then he was driving them to the church to a special Kidpraise event before he went to Seconds.
Cassidy sat on the side of the bed and read from her Bible. She let the words sink into her heart, then closed the book and placed it next to her. She extended her arms, flattening her palms on the mattress. The sun entered through the windows and balcony door, laying tracks of light on the rug. From where Cassidy sat, she could see a piece of the sky, and in a matter-of-fact tone, she blurted, “So here I am, God.” Cassidy relaxed her shoulders and grew still, more reverent, as her lids floated shut. “Okay, here it is, God. I’m scared. Trevor is a man who adores his children. So what will he think of a woman who turned her back on her baby? What will he think of a woman who kept such a terrible secret from him and who also let him believe she was a virgin when they married?” She swallowed emotion. “I’ve already lost so many people—my mother, my baby, Aunt Odessa.” Cassidy didn’t doubt she could survive on her own. But Trevor and the children were her loved ones now. She cherished them, and she couldn’t imagine life without them. “I don’t want to lose Trevor and the children, too. I don’t want them to leave me.”
I’ll never leave you.
“I know that, God.” She opened her eyes, focusing on His sky. “You’ve already proved it.” The times in her life when she’d pulled away from God, God remained and waited for her return. “So what do I do now, Lord?”
Tell him. Tell Trevor everything. And trust Me to take care of the rest.
Cassidy sighed, tired of running from God’s will and ready to do the right thing. “I choose to stand still and trust You,” she surrendered as tears began to ease down her cheeks. “I don’t understand all of Your ways, but I believe You want what’s best for me. My hope is in You, and I know You’re not through with me. There are things You want me to learn, things You want me to do. My life has a purpose . . .”
Cassidy remained on her knees, slumped over the bed, as Trevor walked into the bedroom and knelt beside her. He laid his hand on her back. “Are you all right?” he asked, a ridiculous level of worry in his eyes. And then she realized there was nothing ridiculous about it. Not when it was yesterday that he’d found her in the emergency room.
“I’m all right. I was talking to God. We had a lot to talk about, and I got all emotional.” She glanced down at the crop of crumpled tissues on the bed, then snatched a fresh one from the box, also on
the bed. She dabbed beneath her eyes. “I must look a mess.”
His crooked grin was charming. “You look beautiful.”
Trevor had on a black T-shirt and black jeans. He was scheduled to work this Saturday, and it now dawned on her that he would have dressed differently for work. “Why aren’t you at Seconds?”
He clutched her hand. “I took the day off so I could spend it with you.”
This is it, Cassidy. Tell him now.
Cassidy sucked in a sharp breath and let it out a bit at a time, the nervous pebbles in her stomach expanding into rocks.
Do not be afraid. I am here with you. I will help you.
She stared at Trevor. His head bowed, his eyes closed, his lips slightly moving, he prayed. She sensed right away his inaudible prayer was for her. “Trevor,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he answered without delay, as if he’d been expecting her call.
“I’m . . . I’m ready to talk to you.”
Trevor squeezed her hand and nodded. “Whatever you tell me won’t change how much I love you.”
Cassidy had doubts, yet she began speaking. “I had . . .” She pointed her waterlogged vision toward the bed and a teardrop wet the bronze-colored bedspread as the confession came fast, breathless, on the wing of a whisper. “I had sex with Minister.” The room was stiff with silence as if the walls were shocked and waiting for her to say it wasn’t so. Too ashamed to pursue an eye-to-eye exchange with Trevor, she looked at their hands. The strength of Trevor’s clasp had not weakened, and he began easing his thumb back and forth over her skin. “There was a baby,” she panted through the heaviness pressing her chest. “Minister and I decided not to keep him . . . so . . . so we left him just inside the hospital entrance.” The image zoomed from foggy to clear, and Cassidy could see her swaddled infant as he lay in the laundry basket. He had stopped crying, and he stared up at her as Minister grabbed her wrist and tugged her away from him.
