Grace Restored

by Toni Shiloh

  He met the Bishop’s gaze, praying, pleading for some kind of help. Anything to stop the intense ache which had resumed once he had started speaking.

  “Brother Pierre, let me pray for you before we go any further.”

  “Okay.”

  “Father God, we ask that Your presence be felt in this room. Brother Pierre desperately needs Your wisdom and comfort as he deals with the news he just received. Guide us in our conversation and show me how I can help Your child, Lord. In Your Son’s Mighty Name, Amen.”

  Guy squeezed his eyes tight. Any other time, he may have appreciated the prayer. He may have even remarked at the eloquence of it all. Right now it did nothing to soothe the anguish inside.

  “Tell me Brother Pierre. What is the first thing that came to your mind when you heard the news.”

  “How could she do something like that?”

  “Very valid question. Did she give you any reason as to why?”

  “Yes, she said she was all alone and couldn’t get anyone’s advice.”

  “Okay,” the Bishop replied slowly. “Give me some background on that statement so I may fully understand.”

  “Does it matter? Is there ever any excuse? Sin is sin.”

  “That is true, but understanding a person’s experiences, life issues, helps one view it from a lens of compassion.”

  I don’t want to feel any compassion for her.

  “Her parents were killed in a car crash the month prior to her pregnancy. She came to me for comfort and I...I...”

  “I take it that’s when you created life.”

  “Yes, sir. I admit I felt guilty, so I left home the next day. I didn’t leave any contact information, I just left.”

  “I see.”

  He wanted to roll his eyes. If this man took her side...he huffed.

  “How many years ago did this happen?”

  “Thirteen.”

  The Bishop nodded sagely. “How long have you two been dating?”

  “We’ve only been on a couple of dates alone, but other times my girls have been with us. So I say a good month of dating.”

  “Do you feel betrayed?”

  “Yes.” The words ripped from his throat. He wasn’t shocked by the feelings behind them, but he did feel the bitterness and anger rising again.

  “Why?”

  He blinked. “Excuse me, Bishop?”

  “Why do you feel betrayed?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “That’s an acceptable question, but when you can answer the reason why you feel betrayed, you can work to the root of your issue so then you can go through the process of healing. Otherwise, that bitterness will choke the light out of you.”

  “I...I’m not sure how to put it into words.”

  “And that’s fine.” The Bishop sat forward. “Brother Pierre, in my opinion you’re going to go through the grieving process. The process looks different and feels different for everyone who goes through it. I’m sure you understand considering your late wife.”

  Guy nodded, though to what he wasn’t sure.

  “Only you know when you are ready to press forward. Only you will know how you will act on this bit of information. I caution you, Brother, to cling to God and allow Him into the process instead of distancing yourself.”

  He rubbed his face. “I can agree to that,” he stated huskily. His throat was raw with the ache of today. “I’ll continue to seek Him through this.”

  The Bishop clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Please also consider forgiving the young woman.”

  “What?”

  “Take a moment to place yourself in her shoes. Would you truly have done differently?”

  His head throbbed from the thought.

  “I don’t want to press you, Brother Pierre. Would you consider coming back?”

  “I’ll think about it.” Probably not. He couldn’t talk to a man who would ask him to forgive something unforgivable.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Michelle placed her briefcase on the courtroom table. She had been praying since she woke, after two measly hours of emotionally-charged sleep. She needed God’s help more than ever. There was no way she could win this case for Tanya without him. She was emotionally drained. She’d even debated asking for a delay.

  She felt so awful, she called Tanya to make sure the young woman still wanted her as counsel. Amazingly, Tanya had been fine with it. Lord, please make it enough. I’m so weary.

  “My grace is sufficient for thee.”

  The quiet words echoed in her mind, a balm to her soul. She would cling to them. Lord, I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m done trying to rule it. I need You desperately. Please, forgive me for my sins. Please give me a portion of Christ’s sacrifice so that I no longer have to be shackled to the weight of my past. I need His salvation. I need You. Please teach me how to forgive myself.

  She exhaled. She would get through this.

  The sound of heels clicking broke through her reverie. Tanya walked up the aisle, her lips frozen into a grimace. Or was that supposed to be a smile?

  She hugged the young woman. “You okay?”

  “Nervous,” she said shakily.

  “I know. We’ll get through this.”

  Tanya’s gray eyes darted around, noting the patrons in the court room. The D.A. had claimed his spot, but court had another fifteen minutes before it was due to start. Tanya stepped closer. “I think...I think I just accepted Jesus as my Savior.”

  She laughed and squeezed her hands. “I just did the same thing.”

  Yes, things would be okay.

  Tanya grinned, then chuckled.

  Michelle joined in, loving the feeling of laughter. She always thought once you accepted Christ there would be an obvious difference, but Tanya’s uncertainty comforted her. They didn’t have it all together, but knowing they were walking the same path comforted her.

  The words of Jo’s Bible study session came to mind. She sighed, how did her friends get so smart?

  “I’m happy for you.”

  “I owe it to you. For taking a chance on me.” Tanya’s eyes glistened.

  “Don’t cry. We have to pull it together.”

  Tanya nodded and straightened to her full height. “Whatever happens, thank you for all you’ve done and for inviting me to Bible study.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Can we pray before it gets started?”

  “Sure.” Michelle had no clue how to pray aloud for someone, but she had better figure it out if she was going to walk this life. Grabbing Tanya’s hands, she bowed her head. “Lord, please be with us as we go through this trial. May Your grace be upon Tanya and may You give wisdom to the judge. Please help me to give her my best effort. In Jesus’ Name,” she whispered.

  “Amen,” Tanya said.

  “Amen.”

  They settled into their seats and before long the bailiff called the court to attention.

  “All rise.”

  She stood, sending up another prayer. The judge sat down and read off the docket number. It wasn’t the same judge at the pretrial hearing. No, instead they had gotten judge Barker, who was known to be stern. Michelle grudgingly admired the D.A.’s tactics. She could only pray that the judge’s heart would lean towards leniency and compassion.

  The district attorney stood up and made his opening argument. He told the judge of the victim’s injuries. Explained how the force of impact had contributed to the victim’s death.

  Michelle had read the medical examiner’s report and knew the validity of his words. However, the victim had stepped onto the street from a blind spot, nowhere near a crosswalk. It hadn’t helped that the street was devoid of lights at the location of the accident.

  Time passed swiftly with only one break for recess. Contrary to belief, some trials only lasted a few hours versus the days shown on TV. Michelle stood to make her ending argument.

  “My client is not excusing her behavior. She admits to driving while intoxicated, fully reco
gnizing the consequences that comes with that. However, my client is not guilty of vehicular manslaughter, Your Honor. She passed two patrol officers that night, which was confirmed and verified by their patrol sergeant. No one pulled her over because she did not show any erratic behavior. Yes, when police arrived on scene they performed a field sobriety test.”

  She took a deep breath then continued. “As I showed in my case, my client would have been accused of drunk driving by the test considering her past balance issues and history. Yes, she blew over the legal limit and we are not arguing that. However, the victim ran out into the street at midnight, wearing dark clothing. Any other driver could have yielded the same results, as tragic as they are. Please do not sentence my client for a crime she did not commit.”

  She sank down in her chair, thankful it was over. Never had she been so stressed in all her life. It was easy to prosecute a person and tear down their character. It was quite the opposite to show growth and virtue to people who were ready to slander every bit of hope she had tried to plant.

  “This court will recess while I deliberate.”

  GUY PUT THE LAST CUP in the dishwasher then started it up, thankful this was the last chore he needed to handle before sleep. Normally, he would watch ESPN to unwind, but he had been praying God would bless him with oblivion. He didn’t want to dream, didn’t want to think. He just wanted to sleep.

  “Guy, what is wrong with you?”

  He closed his eyes at the sound of his mother’s voice. How had he forgotten to pray that he’d avoid her until morning? She had been eyeing him ever since Michelle had left the day they painted the girls’ room. That horrible, mind-blowing day.

  He turned and faced his mother. She stood with her hands folded across her chest. The look on her face was one he had seen often growing up. That look said she would not take no for an answer. He groaned.

  “Michelle and I had an argument.”

  “What could be so bad that it has you moping around like a sad puppy dog, huh?”

  He stared at her trying to push the anger down.

  “Don’t give me that look.”

  “Look just leave it alone. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  His mother shook her head and walked up to him. “I’m not going to leave you alone. You’re my son and I can see you’re hurting. Talk to me.”

  “She had an abortion.”

  His mother’s brows wrinkled in confusion. “I thought you committed yourself to God. You can’t be doing that stuff around the girls.”

  He shook his head. “No, Manman, thirteen years ago.”

  “Is that why she was looking for you?” She gasped.

  “So she says.” The words were bitter, like drinking cod liver oil from the bottle.

  His mother sunk down onto a barstool. “I...I...” she started sniffing. “Podyab li.”

  His heart turned cold as his mother uttered the words. How could she think Michelle was a ‘poor baby’? He was the one hurting. He was the one who was in shock. It was like she threw a grenade in the room and then retreated before it exploded, leaving him to pick up the pieces.

  “How can you feel sorry for her?”

  “Guy, you two were so young. Just because she was of legal age does not make her any less a child. If I had been nicer, maybe she would have confided in me. Maybe I could have saved my grandchild’s life.” His mother covered her mouth as tears spilled over her eyes.

  Grandchild.

  He could have three kids right now. Guy shook his head. Or not. Most likely his life wouldn’t have turned out the same if he had known. He ran a hand down his face, weary from all of it. He looked at his mother, shaking his head. How could she feel sorry for Michelle? Did no one understand his pain?

  He walked out of the kitchen. Lord, please let oblivion claim me. I need the peace of nothingness. His body felt like lead as he climbed the stairs. He stopped in the doorway of the girls’ room. His mother had finished the job once Michelle had left. The curtains hung, matching the Princess Tiana stickers along the wall. The girls loved their room.

  Along the wall sat a tea party table. When Michelle had first brought it over, the girls had been ecstatic. They’d held a tea party every day since. However, their joy had quickly turned to sorrow as he said no to their request of Michelle’s presence.

  No way could he allow her back in his house. Back into his heart. Or that of his daughters.’ He wished he had been prudent and dated without introducing her to his kids. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like a monster keeping his kids from the beautiful princess. Only he knew she was more like the evil witch.

  He gulped at the searing pain in his chest. How could she keep such a secret for thirteen years? She should have told him the moment she found out.

  But she didn’t know where you were.

  He swatted away the thought like a pesky gnat. That wasn’t the point. She could have waited longer to find him. Tried instead of taking ‘no’ from his family and friends. She had robbed him and he didn’t know if he could ever forgive her. Not the way he felt now. The searing, white-hot anger threatened to consume him.

  He padded down the hall toward his bedroom. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? Stop seeing the image of her crying as she revealed her secret. Guy laid down and stared up at the ceiling. Still, she filled his thoughts. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to block her from his mind.

  Please, let me sleep, Lord, please.

  Slowly, the tension seeped from him and he fell into a restless sleep.

  The next morning came all too quickly. His sleep had been labored as he had dream after dream of Michelle and their unborn child. It was like a movie reel, relentless in its image. He rubbed the grit from his eyes and flipped the pancake over on the griddle.

  “Papa, can Miz Chelle come ove’ today?”

  He sighed. Different day, same request. “No, Jellybean. She’s working.”

  Bekah’s lower lip poked out and he felt the stab of his anger. She had done wrong, yet he was the bad guy.

  “When will she be home?”

  He gritted his teeth at the petulant whine. “I’m not sure, Jellybean.”

  “Are you mad at Miz Chelle?” Rachel asked.

  He froze, thankful his back was to them. “I’m busy, Peanut.”

  “That’s not what I said, Papa.”

  He whirled around then froze at the startled look on Rachel’s face. Had he scared her? He put the spatula down, noting the shakiness of his hands. He glanced toward his mother. “Please take over. I’m going to Evan’s house.”

  She only nodded as she took his place in front of the griddle.

  He made it to Evan’s house in record time. Thankfully, none of his deputies were patrolling the streets. He was pretty sure he sped all the way over.

  He jogged up the walk way, impatience making his skin feel tight. Dread pooled within him as he waited for Evan to answer his ring of the doorbell. Guy counted out sixty seconds, knowing it would take Evan awhile to make it to the door.

  Finally, the door opened. Evan looked at him, confusion wrinkling his brow. “G man, what’s wrong?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Sure.” He backed up, allowing room for him to pass through.

  He headed for the living room, sinking into the leather furniture.

  He waited as Evan lowered himself and leaned the crutches against the recliner. “What’s got you wound up?”

  He leaned on his elbows, resting them on his knees. “Michelle and I had an argument.” He snorted. “I don’t even know if you could call it that. She came over to help me paint the girls’ room. Then she told me she needed to talk.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed at the memory. “You would have thought warning bells would have sounded then, but I was oblivious.” He swallowed. “I dated her our senior year. I know I didn’t tell you, but...”

  “I knew.”

  Guy stared at his friend, shock zinging down his system. “You knew?”

&nbs
p; “Yeah. I saw you guys at the lake one day. I figured you had your reasons for not saying anything.”

  He let out a huff of air. “I did. What you don’t know is...is we consummated our relationship.” He rushed on, refusing to look his friend in the face. “Then the other day she drops a bombshell on me. Tells me she got pregnant from that one time, and then had an abortion.”

  This time, Guy turned to study his friend’s face, hoping Evan would sympathize with him. His shoulders sagged as Evan’s eyes darkened with sympathy and the corners of his mouth turned downward. He nodded. “I know, shocker, right?”

  Guy ran a hand over the back of his neck. “She tried to give me some excuses, but honestly, Ev, I’m so mad I can’t see straight. I can’t eat, think, sleep. Everywhere I turn I see her crying and giving me her lame excuses.”

  He got up, and began pacing back and forth. “And my mom has the nerve to be sympathetic? You’d think she’d be horrified that Michelle killed her grandchild. My child. I never got to object or have any say in the matter.”

  He whirled around wondering why Evan had yet to speak. He stopped. Guess he forgot to shut up long enough. He made his way back to the sofa and sat down. “What do you think? Help me out here, man, I’m going crazy.”

  “When did she find out?”

  “A month after graduation.”

  Evan frowned at him. “How far along was she? I mean, when did you guys...uh, how often...”

  His friend stopped talking, a look of unease on his face.

  “It was just one time. The evening she found out her parents were...the night they died. She was upset and before I knew it, it was over. I felt ill. Like I had taken advantage of her and the situation. So I left.”

  “And she had no way to contact you.”

  Why did everyone bring that back up? Was that an excuse to do the unthinkable? Did that give her a right to make a major decision like that?

  “Look, I can see you’re getting upset, G. I’m not trying to minimize anything you’re feeling. But think about what she went through. No parents. Her boyfriend left without a goodbye. What was she supposed to do?”