by Mata Elliott
Then the questions came, a pelting rain that poured on her each morning before she rolled out of bed and each time she passed a baby on the street or someone with a baby sat close-by. Each night as she closed her eyes, the same questions rained. Is he safe? Is he happy? Is he loved?
Cassidy clamped her teeth shut, confining the sob that wanted to free itself as one loud mournful wail. She pulled her hand from Trevor’s and hugged herself as sorrow and shame, guilt and regret, gripped and strangled her harder than ever before. She flopped to her backside, drew her knees to her forehead, buried her face inside her folded arms, and finally, freely, wept aloud the grief she’d stored for too many silent years.
Trevor rose to his feet, and Cassidy accepted that one of her fears was about to come true. Trevor would not be able to love someone like her—a woman who’d rejected her own flesh and blood. Her husband would ask her to leave. He would forbid her to see the children. He would never want to look her in the face again. She was about to go into another “he would” when strong hands clamped over her shoulders and powerful fingers curled beneath her underarms, and he lifted her until she stood. Cassidy continued to shield her face, catching her sobs with her hands while Trevor sat on the bed’s edge and pulled her down to sit on his leg, her legs between his thighs. Agony persisted, inflicting upon her stabs that sliced deep. She tied her arms around his neck and held on for support until her cries faded into a blend of gulps and pants that jerked her shoulders. Trevor reached behind his back and brought forward the tissue box. She pulled the last two and blew her nose. The tissues too damp to absorb more, she stuffed them into the empty box and began drying her face with her hands when Trevor clasped both of her hands with one of his, pulled them to her lap, and held them there as he continued the job of removing her tears with his lips. Kisses made of satin brushed against her cheeks and chin and the corners of her eyes.
She sniffled through a stuffy nose. “Why are you kissing me?”
“Because I love you,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to her neck.
Instead of rebuking her, he was rewarding her. Instead of punishing, he was pleasing. While his kisses accumulated along her jaw, she slid her hands up the hard pack of his arms and gripped his shirt midchest. Her cheek against his, her concern quietly drifted into his ear. “I don’t understand how you can still want me.”
“You’re the greatest woman in the world. Why wouldn’t I want you?”
His voice was a whisper that intersected with her soul, and she flattened her hands over his ears, holding his head, halting his movements, observing him with all the amazement she felt inside. For several seconds, she was unable to see clearly through the new lakes of tears. “But didn’t you hear what I told you?” She squeezed the words out, a hand still plastered to each side of his head.
A smile gleamed in the dark set of his eyes, and with gentle force, he seized her hands and carried them to his shoulders. He clasped her head as she had clasped his, and he tenderly kissed her mouth. Cassidy’s chains of resistance loosened and melted, and she whispered his name between his lips as the kiss continued and he moved backward, pulling her with him. They lay sideways on the thick bedspread, within the sanctuary of each other’s arms. Their deep kiss subsided into a delicate parting, and Cassidy opened her eyes, a small portion of her logic expecting to see some measure of repugnance, some crumb of judgment, in the eyes studying her so intently. But all she witnessed was the same love that had been there all the time.
His fingertip traced her ear to the earring-free lobe before dropping to her shoulder and caressing the length of her arm. “Your bracelet is missing.”
“I removed it last night when we arrived home from the session with the pastor.” Her arm felt strange, the jewelry no longer there. Cassidy braced on her elbow and leaned her head on her palm. She had come this far, and she was going all the way. It was time to tell the truth about Dunbar. “I felt sick yesterday morning, so I took the day off from ACES. Dunbar called and asked if I wanted to go to the park, so I went, just to get out. I thought it might be relaxing.” Still congested, she sniffed. “That’s why I was with him, and he was the one who drove me to the hospital.”
Trevor’s emotional withdrawal felt like the chill left behind when the sun suddenly disappeared behind a thick cloud and stayed hidden too long. Vulnerability showed in his eyes as he stared beyond her head, and Cassidy realized he wasn’t merely jealous, he was hurt. She cradled her hand to his neck. “You were right about him. When we were at the park, Dunbar held my hand. Holding his hand was no big deal when I was single, but yesterday it didn’t feel right. I asked him how he felt about me, and Dunbar admitted he had strong feelings. I told him we shouldn’t hang out anymore, and I wouldn’t be comfortable receiving any more presents.”
“I owe Dunbar a big thank-you.”
Cassidy lifted her brows in question.
“If Dunbar had told you how he felt before I married you, you’d be Mrs. Smith.”
“I’ve never felt anything other than friendship for Dunbar,” she said honestly. “I’ve never loved Dunbar the way I love you.” Her hand glided to Trevor’s chest, and he caught it. “This morning I read a few of the passages Pastor Audrey suggested. One of them was Ephesians, chapter 5. Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. I apologize for how cold I’ve been in our bed.” Residual moisture trickling down the back of her throat, she swallowed hard. “I was wrong.”
“That chapter also says,” Trevor responded, “Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church. So I need to apologize, too, because I haven’t been the man God wants me to be. Pastor Audrey was right. I should be praying with you every day. I’ve been married before, and I know what happens when joint prayer and Bible study get pushed out of the relationship.” He paused under Cassidy’s regard. “I almost lost Brenda because there was another woman in my life. Her name was Seconds. I spent a lot of time there because I loved it so much, but in the process, I neglected my wife. Whenever she asked me to study the Bible with her, I was too tired. And I really was. There was no balance to my life. So one day Brenda packed up the girls and they left. They were only gone for a week, but it was one of the longest weeks of my life. And the wake-up call I needed.”
Cassidy lowered her head to the bed, continuing to face the man she loved as he lifted a handful of her thin braids, then laid them back on her shoulder. “What happened after you left the baby?” he asked.
It saddened Cassidy to remember, but Trevor had a right to know. “The report of an abandoned baby was on the late news that night. The reporter urged the mother to come forward. I thought about it, but the following day the news said dozens of families had expressed interest in the baby. I decided he should be with one of those families. Minister kept saying it was best for the baby, and at the time, I believed it, too. I loved Minister, and I thought he loved me. But now, as I look back, I can’t recall him ever telling me he loved me.”
“When did you break up with him?”
“He broke up with me,” she admitted. “About two weeks after I gave birth, Minister called and said he needed a fresh start, and it didn’t include me.” A grudge invaded her voice, and she didn’t care if Trevor heard it. “I soon realized the only reason Minister and I remained a couple throughout the pregnancy was because he wanted to make sure I didn’t keep the baby . . . and no one would ever find out the baby was his.”
There had been no formal face-to-face good-bye, no real closure between Cassidy and Minister, and there were moments she was positive Minister’s decision to leave her was because she’d actually gone along with him and abandoned their child. It was possible he viewed her as pathetic, the way she viewed herself at the time.
Trevor said quietly, “I’m shocked Minister didn’t try to talk you into an abortion.”
“He suggested one. But when I found out I was pregnant, I was too far along for an abortion. Otherwise . . .” She was ashamed to say it, but if she’
d found out earlier, she would have terminated the pregnancy if Minister had wanted her to. All she ever did was try to please him. Minister could have asked her to fly off the roof, and she would have tried it. She remembered the night Minister introduced her to alcohol. She had two beers before he asked her to go to the store for him. Halfway there, she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to buy. But it didn’t matter, since she never made it to the store. Instead, she crashed Minister’s car into the mailbox of a local minister. He and his wife took her in for the night. In the morning, they said they had prayed, and the Lord had directed them to refrain from calling the police. Still, they wanted her to come and speak to the youth at the church as retribution.
“Minister’s dead now,” she said, and met Trevor’s curious scrutiny. “He got involved with some preacher’s wife. The preacher shot him in the head.”
Trevor’s voice remained soft. “Is the baby you had with Minister the reason you’re afraid to have one with me?”
Cassidy was slow to speak, but she answered all that was in her heart. “Being pregnant would force me to feel the past, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to feel another baby growing inside me. I don’t want to remember how it felt to give birth to my son and hold him. It hurts too much.” Loads of women at church had given birth over the years, and while everyone else oohed and aahed and begged to cuddle up with one of the babies, Cassidy kept her distance. She avoided the church nursery and the diaper aisle in the grocery store and the baby section in department stores. “Honestly, I just want to forget that the whole thing with Minister and the baby ever happened.”
He held one side of her face. “I wish I could get you through this on my own, but I don’t know how. However, God’s given every person a gift, and there are those He has called to help the emotionally broken. Baby, there’s someone who can help you work through your issues and fears and bad memories.” He lifted his head and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “You can do this. I’ve seen how determined you are when it comes to those ACES kids. Now it’s time for you to fight for you.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her trepidations about counseling already beginning to wane as her desire to please God increased.
“Heavenly Father,” Trevor began, taking her hand, “we acknowledge You as our source. Therefore, we thank You in advance that Cassidy, as Your daughter, is equipped with Your strength, and she will not walk in fear, but in Your power. I thank You for her, Father. I thank You that she is a godly woman who loves You. Help both of us as we commit to live totally surrendered to You. Fill us with Your Spirit so that every part of our marriage will bring glory unto You. Help us as we attempt to raise our children according to Your Word so that they will grow up remembering Your principles and likewise they will one day teach their children Your way.
“Father, thank You for dying on the cross, so that not only can we know forgiveness, but healing, too. Your Word assures that You heal broken hearts and bind up wounds. Our wounds are too big for us to bear, but not too big for You to heal because nothing is too hard for You. So we lay our pain at Your feet, believing that we’re already made whole and fully delivered.” He kissed her hand and whispered, “Amen.”
“Amen,” she whispered in accord.
chapter forty
The flat heels of their sandals rapped the floor as Cassidy and Lena carried yellow plastic trays to a table. Saturday shoppers would soon pack the food court, but as of now, the closest people to Cassidy and Lena were three tables away. It had been a month since the friends had a day out together, and they’d spent the morning store-hopping from one end of the mall to the other and would spend the afternoon at the day spa.
“Hey,” Lena said suddenly after chewing a bite of a thick cheeseburger. “I haven’t given you proper congratulations for bringing home that spelling bee win.” Lena stood, raised and lowered her arms in a dramatic representation of a bow.
“Girl, will you sit down,” Cassidy said, shining a smile, tickled with Lena and with the fact that ACES had won the first-place trophy this summer.
Lena plugged Cassidy in on all of her latest wedding plans while they ate. “Hulk and I have decided to have the reception in the church hall. It’ll be less expensive than the outside places we’ve investigated. We’ve selected a DJ, and she’s going to play inspirational love songs. We want to have dancing. Do you think Pastor Audrey will allow it?”
“He might. You’ll have to ask him.” Cassidy poked a white fork into one of the strips of grilled chicken tossed throughout a garden of crisp mixed greens. When all the wedding talk came to a lull, Cassidy unveiled the part of her life Lena had not been knowledgeable about. Lena used a napkin to blot tears from her cheeks as Cassidy told her about the night she gave her son away.
“You could have confided in me.” Lena blew her nose. “I would’ve been there for you.”
“I’m in counseling for another matter as well,” Cassidy explained a few minutes later, and Lena looked more stunned than when Cassidy had told her about the baby.
“You mean you and Trevor have never had . . .” Lena gulped the word rather than speak it.
“Intercourse,” Cassidy helped her. “It’s not a bad word, you can say it.”
“What’s the condition called again?”
“Vaginismus.”
“Girl, I’ve never heard of anything like that before.”
“It’s not terminal or contagious,” Cassidy said lightly, because Lena still looked so unsettled.
“And counseling has helped you cope with all this?”
“God is really using Dr. Tia to help me process everything.” Sitting down and exposing her feelings had been easier than expected, although the first getting-to-know-you session had not been without some apprehension. But the therapist had an approachable smile, a gentle spirit, and a way of making Cassidy feel like everything she said was valid and nothing she said was stupid, and Cassidy had relaxed and opened up to Dr. Tia Morris within the hour. Now Cassidy looked forward to the sessions with Dr. Tia. As a Christian, she often pointed Cassidy to scriptures that edified and strengthened.
During this week’s session, Cassidy exercised her emotional muscles and made Herbie a topic. In her heart, Cassidy still nursed wishes and dreams of becoming Herbie’s mother. With Dr. Tia’s assistance, Cassidy explored the possibility that she was trying to replace her son with Herbie. But with a clear conscience, Cassidy had been able to admit differently. She could never replace the precious baby she’d given birth to. And in turn, she could never put such a burden on Herbie. What she could do was give Herbie lots of love and a safe home. Trevor, however, had not mentioned the subject of adopting Herbie, and Cassidy had left it alone, too. For the time being, it was best to concentrate on herself, her marriage, and her daughters.
Recently, Brittney had started testing Cassidy’s authority. Early on, Cassidy had thought Brittney’s misbehavior was because Derek was in the house and she was showing off for his benefit. But with Trudy’s brother and sister-in-law accepting guardianship of Derek, Derek had been gone for a week, and Brittney was still out of order. “Last night we had chicken for dinner, which I’ve fixed before and she’s eaten with no problem. Yet this time she says with her face contorted, ‘I don’t like this chicken.’ Then she whines, ‘My real mom made better chicken than this.’”
“Ouch,” Lena hissed. “That had to sting.”
“More than a little,” Cassidy confessed. “Of course, I didn’t let the kids see the wound.” Cassidy pushed her empty plate away, getting some of the leftover sesame-soy vinaigrette on her fingers. She wiped her hands on a napkin.
“So how did you handle the situation?”
“I told her calmly yet firmly she didn’t have to eat the chicken, but she couldn’t have any of the cake Trevor made, either. She agreed and helped me with the dishes without any complaint. That should’ve been a clue she was up to no good.”
Lena listened attentively.
“When Trevor got in fro
m work, Brittney ran to the door, jumped in his arms, and the first thing she asked him was, ‘How was your day, Daddy?’ They were both all kissy and giggly. Then the second thing she asked was . . .” Cassidy pointed to Lena.
“Can I have some cake?” Lena filled in the blank with no problem. Shaking her head, she said, “Kids will try you. So how did you and Trevor handle her?”
“Well, of course, she didn’t have any cake. Trevor and I had a talk with her and then sent her to bed with no television, either.”
Lena lifted the one french fry left on her plate and hacked it in half with her teeth. “It’s good Trevor backs you up. I know parents who let their kids play those divide-and-conquer games, and all it does is cause more household confusion.”
Cassidy and Lena placed their trays above the trash receptacle on the ledge designated for dirty trays. Their spa appointment was scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes, and after a restroom stop, they hurried to the exit for parking lot D. “A massage is exactly what I need,” Lena said, shopping bags hanging from both hands.
Cassidy smiled, depending on this massage, too. It would help her relax and feel more confident about the romantic surprise she had planned for Trevor.
chapter forty-one
A trail of long-stemmed red roses and the whisper of jazz lured Trevor to the master bedroom. He opened the door, a twine of excitement undulating through his body as he inhaled the fragrance of vanilla. He had no clue if it was the scent of the candles or something Cassidy had sprayed, but it was well pleasing.
He lingered in the open doorway, taking in the picture. All of the curtains were closed, shielding Trevor and Cassidy from any moonbeams, and one bedside lamp was turned on low. The dim room flickered with candleshine, and a small round table draped with a white tablecloth displayed a big bowl of fresh strawberries, a pair of flutes, and an ice bucket bearing a long green bottle of his preferred brand of sparkling cider. His wife adorned the center of the bed, reclining against a wall of pillows, looking lovely—and blue, dressed in the bathrobe he favored.
