Bill stepped forward again. Glaring at her, he spit out through gritted teeth, “I … am … your … husband. I know my role as your husband; do you remember yours—as my wife? Think about the verse Pastor Johnson spoke on just last Sunday. Deny yourself, Maureen. ‘Deny yourself, pick up your cross, and follow me,’ Christ said.”
Maureen grabbed her antique silver-plated hairbrush and threw it with all her might at the dresser mirror, shattering it. Turned then to face Bill, tears filling her hazel eyes and spilling over, her voice pleading with him, “There. The facade that represents Maureen Roberts never existed anyway. Tell me, Bill, how do I deny myself when I’ve never had a self to deny?”
Her anger instantly vanished, released with the power of her emotion, and she dropped her arms limply to her sides. Only the sound of her soft weeping filled the room. And then Maureen crumpled to the floor, breaking into heaving sobs, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.
Bill dropped down beside her and instantly pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Maureen, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “What place have we traveled to?”
He rocked her like a baby, combing a hand gently through her hair.
Minutes later, when her breathing had calmed, she whispered, “I can’t go on like this any longer, Bill.” She felt him stiffen, almost become rigid beneath her. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Are you saying …” his voice was hoarse, rough, “… are you leaving me?”
Maureen twisted around in his arms so that she could look into his eyes, and she put a hand on either side of his face. The hazel-flecked eyes sparkled with lingering tears. “Oh Bill, no.” She slumped back away from him, adding, “But I think I need … I think I do need some time away to think.”
Suddenly it was vitally important that Bill understand. “Do you … can you understand at all what I’m feeling? Because it’s like … like I thought I offered myself to God years ago. But I never thought I was worth anything, really.” She searched his face for understanding. “It wasn’t an offering at all, Bill, because I judged I never had anything to give. I want to find … somewhere within me … some worth that means I really am giving God something. That’s sacrifice. That’s a denial.” She shook her head. “Am I making any sense at all?”
He nodded. “Yeah, a little.”
“Could I—?”
Bill raised his eyebrows, fear still clouding his eyes.
“If I could just go to the beach for a few days. To get some perspective.” Maureen ran fingers through her hair and then closed her eyes. “I learned something recently.” She chuckled and then shook her head. “You’re probably going to think this is just weird but, well, it’s about this phenomenon called averted vision. It’s when you try to look at a star and—”
“You can’t see it, looking at it directly. I read about it, years ago when I was into astronomy and had that telescope. Some stars you can see only when you look away, and then use your peripheral vision, right?”
She hesitated.
“What, Mo?”
“You’ll think it’s silly.”
Bill reached for her hand. Squeezed it gently. “So give me a try.”
Maureen took a deep breath. “That’s a perfect illustration of how I’ve viewed God and me—like I’m that star. Not worthy of being seen in God’s direct vision. I’m just in his peripheral vision … and that’s all I’m …” Her voice trailed off and Bill watched silent tears fall down freckled cheeks. He reached up to wipe one away.
“You’re not, Mo. Never were. But no one can convince you of that but you, yourself, with God’s help.”
She nodded, and then, heart pounding, turned away from his steady gaze, avoiding meeting his eyes. “When I got to the back door tonight, I saw you three laughing together, having such a good time. I thought … I realized how happy you were without me.” Her voice broke then and she could hardly breathe, needed to take a gulp of air before continuing, “And that you wouldn’t … that you didn’t want—”
Bill gently put his hand over her mouth, silencing her. “I love you so much, Mo. So do the girls. And we need you. You have to believe that. Please say you believe me.”
“I’ll try.”
“Where do you want to go? To get away?”
“Sanibel Island? It’s away, but not too far. I’m thinking a long weekend. Colleen has school on Friday and Monday, of course, so she’d better stay here with you. But if I take Aubrey with me, then you don’t have the problem of a sitter for those days—and it gives you some father-daughter time for just you and Colleen. Think you two would enjoy that?”
“I can’t speak for Colleen, considering how … special she’s been lately. But I think it might be fun. What weekend are you thinking about?”
“How about if we leave this Friday morning? We’d be home by Monday afternoon.” She could feel his body stiffen again. “What is it?—something’s wrong. Bill?”
“I just need to hear you say … once more. That you’ll come back to me.”
She put a finger against his cheek. “I promise you—” A memory suddenly came to mind, and she smiled up at him. “Long ago you said that what you first noticed about me was my eyes—that they sparkled. That I dazzled you.”
Bill grinned back at her. “One of my best lines ever.”
“Those sparkles will come home to you. I promise.”
He took her in his arms, relishing the feel of her body against his. “Got another good line for you,” Bill began, chuckling. “You know the banker’s terminology bridge loan? Maybe God’s love is like that while we’re on earth. His love is the bridge loan before we get to heaven.”
Maureen pulled back to look Bill in the eyes. “Bill, that’s not a line; it’s a beautiful analogy.”
“Think so? Well, I guess it dawned on me—thinking about you leaving—that there’s a difference between being alone. And being lonely. And being left isn’t as frightening when I know I’m in the bridge of God’s love.”
Maureen smiled up at him and moved into Bill’s waiting arms again. They held onto each other for a few moments more, finding the beginnings of healing. And then Bill went to tell Aubrey of the plans, Maureen to explain to Colleen.
Maureen knocked softly on Colleen’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Colleen, it’s me. I need to speak with you a minute.” She opened the door and peeked in. “Can I come in? I wanted to let you know I’m going away for a few days, to the beach. Just to have some time to think and pray.”
“Oh? Where?” Colleen refused to look at her mom. She concentrated on her doodling efforts as if they were intensely important.
“Sanibel Island. I’d leave on Friday. Come home on Monday.”
Putting her hand up in such a way that it hid her face, Colleen hunched down over her desk. “It won’t be longer than that? You’re sure?”
“Oh, no. It’s just a long weekend. Actually, I’ll take Aubrey with me and you’ll stay here with Daddy. We thought you might enjoy having Daddy all to yourself for a while. Do some fun things together?” Colleen still avoided her mother’s gaze, even though Maureen intentionally leaned down to search her daughter’s face. “Is something the matter, Colleen? Tell me what you’re thinking because—”
In a monotone, Colleen asked, “Are you and Daddy separating?”
“Oh, no … no, Colleen. It’s nothing like that, I promise you.” She reached out to put her fingers under her daughter’s chin and lifted it so she was forced to look up at her.
Colleen’s dark eyes glistened.
“You’re thinking … that what happened to the Estebans … it’s not, sweetie. You believe me, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Her voice very small and frail, “I guess so.”
“Actually, I need you to take care of your dad while I’m gone. Will you
do that?”
She rolled her eyes, any signs of tenuousness now deliberately hidden. “Like I’m gonna cook stuff,” she scoffed. “We’ll get burgers or pizza every night.”
“If that’s what you two want, then I say go for it.” Maureen hesitated, uncertain, and then deciding not to press, turned to go.
“Mom?”
Maureen leaned against the door, waiting, giving Colleen her full attention. She could hear her breathing erratically.
“Then what were you doing when you were gone tonight?” Her words had come out in a rush, and again she studied her paper under hooded eyes.
Maureen took a deep breath. Fleetingly thought, How honest should I be? “I was walking on the beach, taking some time to just … think. And I was wondering, actually, if—” her voice broke and she stopped to swallow and try to calm her emotions, “—if it would make any difference if I just … didn’t exist anymore.”
Colleen lifted her head, mouth hanging open and pupils dilated in alarm.
“No, it’s not what you’re thinking. I never considered … that … no, Colleen, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have put it that way. But my life seems so,” she closed her eyes, concentrating, struggling to find the right words, “meaningless? No, that’s not the right word. It’s more like I’m in a vacuum. I don’t … I’m not connecting. Yes, that’s closer. I’m not really connecting to your dad. To you. To Aubrey or to God. At least, not in the way I want to.”
Maureen was quiet a moment, pondering. “You know, the more I think about it, the better that describes it. A connector. I realize that’s what I’ve always wanted to be: the one who connects you and Aubrey to the past—your grandparents, and dad and me—and to the future, so you’ll understand what it means to live for Christ. And want to live for Christ.
“Colleen, I’ve struggled so much with my worth that—and I can’t go into … any of that—well, let’s just say I know I haven’t been that connector for you and Aubrey because of how I see myself. My time at the beach this weekend? I intend to figure out how to do that. The way God wants me to. For this family. For you and Aubrey. And I will do whatever I need to do to make that happen.
“You know, it just dawned on me … there’s another way to describe what I’m feeling: It’s like I want to be a bridge—a bridge to each member of this family. And a bridge that connects us all to God.” Maureen looked into Colleen’s eyes, and was encouraged to see no rejection or anger there; instead, her eyes looked intently into Maureen’s. “Just one more thing. About self-worth. We can only find it in relationship with God, Colleen. I don’t know why I haven’t really understood that way down deep in my heart. But I’ve got to discover how to do that, too. Let that deep understanding move from my brain to my heart.”
They were both silent for a few moments. The only sounds in the room were their quiet breathing and the steady ticking of Colleen’s bedside clock.
“Does that help?” Maureen asked, searching her daughter’s face again.
A barely perceptible nod of her head, and then, “I love you, Mom.”
Maureen could barely see as she leaned over and kissed the top of Colleen’s head, her hand caressing the ponytail. “I love you too, sweetie.”
Though it had been bright and sunny the entire week before, Friday dawned miserably; they awakened to a dense fog with drizzly rain. Bill expressed some concern about Maureen’s driving in such awful weather, but she was optimistic the sun would be out by noon. “That’s what all the forecasters are saying,” she calmly pointed out. “Sunshine by noon. So I figure this has got to clear up soon.”
As Bill buckled Aubrey into her car seat, he tugged on an ear and then kissed her.
“Will you miss me, Daddy?”
“Better believe it.”
“And Rabbit, too?”
“Even more than you.”
Aubrey frowned, then burst into a big smile. “You’re just teasing, Daddy. I know you’ll miss me most!”
“You’re just too smart—like your Mommy, huh?”
He pulled Maureen into his arms, a touch of insecurity and tenderness still apparent in the look he gave her. She felt a sudden surge of love, realizing how much she was still in love with him. “You’ll be all right? Colleen promised me she’d take good care of you.”
“She mentioned pizza. Burgers and tacos. That what you mean?”
Maureen smiled. “To a teenager, that’s probably as good as it gets.”
Colleen came down the steps into the garage and they both turned to look at her. “I, um … I hope you have a good time.” She moved toward Maureen, reaching out to offer a hug. The unexpected gift brought the uncomfortable lump back to Maureen’s throat. Peering over the top of her daughter’s head, she looked into Bill’s face and smiled contentedly. She kissed the top of Colleen’s head before Colleen pushed away, muttering, “I gotta finish getting ready for school. Bye, little squirt,” she called to Aubrey, throwing her a quick kiss with a wave of one hand.
Maureen watched Colleen’s every move until she was out of sight and then turned her attention back to Bill. “As soon as I get to the hotel, I’ll call you. Then I need to ring Emilie. Ask her to forgive me.”
Bill nodded. “Good idea. And if Ed leaves her again?”
“Then Sherry, Nessa, and I will be there for her. I’m calling Sherry and Nessa also, by the way. To tell them what amazing friends they’ve been—how much they’ve given me all these years.”
“Sounds like you’ll be spending all your time on the phone,” Bill teased.
She sighed. “Oh, not so much. ’Cause after that, I’m spending time with Aubrey. And God. I plan to spend most of my weekend talking with him.”
Bill pulled her to him again, murmuring, “Gonna miss you. I love you, honey.”
“Oh, Bill. I love you too. You know that, right?”
His answer was a tender kiss, and it was with some regret that Maureen let go, climbed into the van, and backed out into the waiting murkiness. Flicking on the windshield wipers, Maureen watched while her view of Bill misted over, cleared, and misted again in the steady rhythm of the blades. She waved at him one last time. Took a deep breath and turned to wink at Aubrey.
“Okay, Lolly Pops. Ready to go?”
“Me and Rabbit, too.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Maureen caught a glimpse of bright blue in the front magnolia tree. “Oh, Aubrey, look!” she cried out delightedly, pointing toward the pair. “It’s … it’s the bluebirds, and there are two—a papa and a mama.”
Aubrey squirmed around in her seat, trying to see. “Will they still be here when we get home, Mommy?”
“Oh, I hope so.” Maureen reached toward the backseat and patted Aubrey on the knee. “I sure hope so.”
She smiled to herself—thanking God for the gift of hope, even in little things—and confidently turned into the rain.
Despite her early optimism about the weather, Maureen’s spirits began to sag as the rain continued in a steady beat against the windshield. The fog, instead of dissipating, grew thicker. The combination of the two made drivers skittish and panicky, which turned normally tricky rush-hour traffic into a nightmare. What should have been an hour’s drive to the Sunshine Skyway Bridge stretched into two, and by then Maureen’s shoulders were knotted with tension. Even her hands ached from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.
Just as they arrived at the entrance to the bridge, the weather took a turn for the worse. The rain came down in a deluge, developing into a full-fledged storm, complete with lightning and thunder. Immediate concern for Aubrey caused Maureen to quickly check the backseat. But to her surprise, Aubrey appeared totally unaffected by the storm. She was chatting merrily away in an animated conversation with Rabbit. Now and then she’d gesture emphatically with a raised finger, causing Maureen to grin, despite her fears of d
riving conditions in the nasty weather.
The sound of the rain beating against the windshield was nearly deafening, and even the highest wiper speed couldn’t clear the windshield fast enough. Maureen slowed down even more, checking the rearview mirror—there were no car headlights blinding her from behind, for which she was thankful—and then peered cautiously at the car in front. She could barely make out that it was a dark-colored Mercedes, and was grateful she could focus on its bright taillights, using them to guide her safely across the bridge.
She’d just told herself, You can do this. You’re perfectly safe, when a jagged arm of lightning flashed across the sky, eerily highlighting the grace and beauty of the Skyway’s arched cables. The dazzling light show was still sending out sparks when it was joined by a crack of thunder. Maureen was momentarily startled. She felt the car move but wasn’t overly concerned. Dismissing it as a vibration from the thunder, Maureen focused more intently on the car in front of her.
But suddenly all reality of sky above and solid road below evaporated into thin air. She felt the car launch out into—nothing. The last thing Maureen clearly saw was her headlights shining into the Mercedes, the beams acting like a spotlight on a beautiful woman’s face staring out from the back window. Reacting instinctively, Maureen reached back toward Aubrey with one hand … and toward the woman with the other. Just before the car hit the surging black waters, Maureen asked herself a puzzling question.
Why is the woman’s mouth open, her face full of wonder?
Book Two
Pick Up Your Cross
March 2009
Glen Ellyn, Illinois
It was the semifinal soccer game, and the stakes were high. The score: one to zero. Only three minutes remained.
To the Glen Ellyn Flames, the team in the lead, those three minutes loomed like an eternity. Coach Paul Henry had lectured his twelve- and thirteen-year-old players to never stop attacking, never subconsciously shift to “protecting the lead.” But with the championship game within sight, the Flames succumbed to temptation. Their lack of aggressive play in the last ten minutes was obvious: They were merely trying to hold on to the one-point lead.
Bridge to a Distant Star Page 9
