His first hidden object painting sold, and for a price that shocked him. The gallery asked for more, and suddenly Lilith reverted to the woman he fell in love with. But he was naturally cynical about her attitude change.
Especially when the nagging returned, this time for focusing too much on their daughter. She was also jealous of his weekends with Mik. Corey argued that he gave up everything for her. Everything: Erin, Mik, his morality, and his faith. He was through with compromising.
Jon set down the book for a breather. His friend had been an emotional wreck, and reading his intimate, often selfish, thoughts was exhausting. But at least Corey was now realizing what he’d given up.
Jon got up, stretched, made himself a peanut butter and apple sandwich then returned to the book.
__________
March 11, 2017
I’m a complete idiot.
For months I’ve been missing important dates with Mik, events I swore I recorded in my phone. How do you explain to your eleven-year-old daughter that your calendar app is broken? Erin would have said something wise like, “Then write it down on a wall calendar.”
I should have.
Turns out the only thing that was broken was me, and I’m a complete mess.
I took Lil out tonight for her birthday. A pretty ritzy place at that. Funny thing is, I can afford it now. Two more paintings sold today for prices I never could have imagined. I really need to up my support for Mik, but every time I mention it, I get in an argument with Lil.
Everything ends in an argument with her. Especially tonight. This time, I don’t know if I can forgive her.
I went to the restroom and when I returned, I saw her with my phone, watched her from behind as she went through my calendar and deleted scheduled times with Mik. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad or felt so sick.
How long has she been doing this? Since I was still married to Erin? The thought made me sicker, and I knew I had to learn the truth.
I didn’t confront her until after we’d arrived home and made certain Clara was asleep. She denied it at first, then offered some lame excuse, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t—let her get away with it and kept hounding her. Finally, she admitted it, said she loved me at first sight, and this was part of her plan to get me to leave Erin and Mik.
The art studio was all part of the plan, too. Seducing me. Getting pregnant. She’d manipulated my every step, and I was too self-absorbed to see it. It’s one thing to ruin my life, but Erin’s and Mik’s too? How could I have not seen it?
Dear God, what have I done?
__________
March 13, 2017
I thought Jon would help me.
I’d spent forty-eight hours in my art studio, painting, sleeping, sometimes hurtling paint at the canvas before dropping Clara off at the folks’ office and barging in on Jon. Like the friend he’s always been, he excused himself and got me settled in a small conference room where we could talk in private. I told him what Lilith had done, and then asked him to help me with the divorce. Asked him to help me win Erin back.
He almost laughed me out of the office, and said, “And mess up more lives?”
I said something stupid about him wanting Erin for himself, which he logically said he could have stepped in any time to do that.
Yeah. I’m an idiot.
Then he told me to stop running from my problems and go back home. To Lilith. Fix my marriage. See a counselor. Be a good father to both Clara and Mik. Apologize to Erin. Maybe start with an apology to Lilith.
But most importantly, have a long overdue talk with God. He spread his fingers over the Bible that always sat on the corner of his desk and said, “I have it on good authority that God welcomes the prodigal home with open arms.”
I have my doubts. I don’t think this mess I’ve created can be fixed.
__________
April 15, 2017
I did what Jon said.
I went home, apologized to Lilith for not being the kind of man she deserved, for using her. Didn’t faze her. All she cares about is how much money I’m making. I’m trying, though, honestly, I am. Since our relationship started with selfishness, I have to turn it around, so every morning I ask her what I can do for her. Her response is usually something dull, like clean the bathroom. But I do it, just as much for her as for me. Cleaning up crap fits my life right now.
And I’m learning, really learning that God is the best cleaner.
Yeah, I knew that growing up. It’s what I learned from Mom and Pop. From my church. But I never took it to heart. Guess we have to experience brokenness before God makes us whole.
Also, as Jon recommended, I’ve been reading my Bible every day. To Clara as I put her to sleep. I want her to hear God’s words, too, and hold them in her heart. I go on walks and have long talks with God. I’m seeing him again, hearing him again. Feeling him again. What the Bible says about the father welcoming his prodigal son home is true. He’s welcomed me back with open arms.
I’m even finding more joy in my art, which is hard to believe. Clara loves to paint on her little easel right beside me. I love her so much it hurts. Mik, too, but I created a chasm between us that she doesn’t want me to bridge. I will, though. I won’t ever stop trying. I haven’t missed a single event since I learned what Lilith did. I haven’t forgotten a weekend. I always, always tell her I love her.
My paintings were popular before, but now they’re in demand. But there’s one project I won’t rush. It has to be done right. And I’ll never sell it. I don’t know if it will be my masterpiece, but I do know when I put brush to canvas, I feel my heart bleeding along with it.
__________
September 14, 2017
For our second anniversary, I treated Lilith to a trip to Minneapolis and their art institute, hoping to rekindle the spark we both felt when looking at art.
It wasn’t there. To say we’d fallen out of love wasn’t true. Love had never been part of our relationship, and selfishness and lust don’t hold people together. I feel like I’m caught in that old ’70s song, “I Don’t Know How to Love Him.” But I’m not giving up. Jon won’t let me. God certainly won’t let me.
So, I pray every day for Lilith, for our relationship, for Clara and Mik, and even for Erin that God will soften her heart to accept my apology.
I haven’t apologized. Yet. I’m working on it through my painting. I know that probably sounds weird, but that’s what I’m feeling led to do. When it’s complete, I’ll know that Erin is ready to listen.
__________
Christmas Day, 2017
When I asked Lilith what I could do for her this morning, she responded with, “Today, I need to ask what I can do for you.”
Yeah. I wanted to cry. I didn’t though. I just asked if I could read about Jesus’ birth from the Bible. She said she wanted to hear it.
I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas present.
__________
April 1, 2018
Easter Sunday!
I wonder if the first April Fool’s Day was the day the guards found Jesus’ tomb empty. I’m certain they were hoping it was a joke. Today, we know it’s not. Today, I know with my entire being that Jesus arose from the tomb, leaving all our sins behind Him. My selfishness. My affair. My dishonesty. All of it. He’s forgiven me. Hallelujah! I don’t think I’ve ever sung that word before with such feeling. Now I know in my heart what that word means.
Because, guess what . . .
Lilith gave her life to God today. Hallelujah! No, not during church or an altar call or anything, but at Mom and Pop’s place, right in the middle of our meal, she said she believed.
Yeah, there was a lot of rejoicing at that table!
When we arrived home for the day, I asked if I could work on my “Forgiveness” piece. That’s what I’m calling Erin’s apology painting now. Can you think of a better day to paint what forgiveness looks like to you?
I made a lot of progress, but it isn’t right yet. Hopefull
y, soon.
__________
September 2018
Three years married to Lilith, and our marriage has come full circle, from one of selfishness to one of selflessness and love. I can honestly say I love her now. Amazing, the work God can do in hearts!
We renewed our vows, this time Mom and Pop, Jon, and Mik were in attendance. This time everyone was happy for us. This time, God was the One binding us together.
__________
January 5, 2019
Lilith told me something concerning today . . .
__________
Jon read the rest of the passage and slapped the book closed. Finally, here was the proof he’d been searching for. Though it was well past midnight, he couldn’t sleep now. He hurried to his office and brought up Corey’s and Lilith’s accounts.
With adrenaline pumping through his veins, he settled back on the deck and read to the end of the journal, and realized the final entry was dated the day before Corey died.
He cried for his friend again, this time knowing Corey was joyfully painting alongside the Master Artist.
This was one entry Erin needed to read.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After feeding Clara, Erin planted herself at her computer desk with Clara playing happily behind her. The child effused joy, and Erin was learning to accept her presence as a gift, not a penance.
Per Jon’s recommendation, Erin had ended the daycare agreement between her and the Caldwells. She’d thought she’d miss having the time alone to work, but Clara’s chirpy voice added a calming effect to her workday.
Clearly, God knew that would happen when He orchestrated Clara’s presence in her life.
Erin opened Lurch’s—er, Larry’s account and began the process of setting up his files. If only she could add one more client, she’d be fine. Two more would get her in the I-can-breathe zone. Regardless, God would provide.
Her cellphone rang in the middle of her project. She hated how the ring stole her focus, but she’d promised clients she would offer quick, personal service. Now to prove that.
“Belden Bookkeeping Services, how may I help you?”
“Erin?”
“Jon. Hi.” The corners of her mouth involuntarily lifted. Seemed like forever since she’d heard his voice, though it had only been since last night.
“Do you mind if I stop over? I have news.”
Her spine stiffened at his dry tone. “Good or bad.”
“I’d prefer to tell you in person.”
Which meant bad news. “Fine. I’ll be here.” She hung up without saying goodbye. And to think she’d been having a good day up until now.
Rather than immerse herself in her work, she prepared light appetizers and a bowl of Sixlets to share when Jon arrived. Food always made bad news more palatable.
Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and she invited Jon in. “Thanks for letting me stop by on short notice.”
“Did I have a choice?”
“Pearl, you always have a choice.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” She shut the door behind him. “The Sixlets were over and done with a long time ago.”
“Uncle Jon!” Clara interceded before Jon could answer.
He picked her up and threw her in the air, her blonde ringlets flying like floating bubbles.
“Hey Lolli.” He blew a raspberry on her tummy, and she giggled.
Watching Jon interact with Clara was rather intriguing. It was a side of him Erin hadn’t known existed until Clara arrived. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find it attractive.
But she wasn’t going to allow Clara to get in the way of Jon answering her question. She gestured toward the couch while she sat in the recliner.
Jon frowned, but sat, keeping Clara on his lap. As protection maybe with what he had to tell her? She certainly wouldn’t throw anything—like plates—while he was holding her.
She folded her hands in her lap, squeezing them together, pouring her frustrations into them. “I asked you a question.”
“What am I doing here?” He bounced Clara on his lap, and she giggled more.
Yes, he was attractive, but also infuriating. She covered her tattoo with her hand. “No. Why do you still call me Pearl?”
His leg stilled, and he kissed Clara’s forehead before looking Erin directly in the eye, making her stomach do flip flops. “Because you are a valuable treasure, one that should be cherished.”
Erin broke her gaze from his and looked down at her hands fidgeting in her lap. She’d never accepted compliments well.
Suddenly he was in front of her, taking her hands, holding them palms up so her tattoo was on full display. “You are precious. You are beloved, and I’m sorry so few people have valued you for what you’re worth.”
Erin tried to conjure a sarcastic retort, but her mind had gone blank. All she could do was yank her hands from Jon and hide her tattoo beneath her arm pit because she had a sudden, irrational urge to kiss him. She summoned her stoic face and changed the subject. “Why did you need to see me today?”
His eyes downcast, he returned to the couch without answering her question.
She chastised herself for hurting him, for not being honest about her new, frightening, exhilarating feelings. Releasing them might break open another dam, and that scared her to death.
Finally, he looked up at her. “I discovered what the Caldwells were after.”
“And that’s bad news?” She didn’t have to summon her stoic face for that question.
He cocked his head to the side. That meant confusion, right? “Who said anything about bad news?”
“Well . . . ” She replayed their conversation in her head, and the only one who hinted at bad news was her. But hadn’t his body language indicated his news was bad? Like she was some expert. But he didn’t seem excited or happy. Even she knew a smile meant happy. Usually. Or maybe not. Grrr. She needed to stop analyzing before her brain hurt.
He folded his hands together and looked down at Clara. “Apparently Charles Caldwell has a bit of a gambling problem.”
Ah, okay, now his melancholy made sense. He was happy for Erin and Clara but the reason behind her getting custody gave him no pleasure. What a beautiful heart Jon had.
He cleared his throat. “Corey referenced the gambling in his journal, and their accounts affirmed it with Lilith having forwarded money to her mom several times over the past year. Her parents have come to depend on those funds. That’s why Corey and Lilith specifically stated to me that they didn’t want them to be guardians. The Caldwells were using their relationship with you to make you comfortable with them, while they were seeking anything they could use against you. With Corey’s death, his artwork has become more valuable, and they hoped to use guardianship of Clara to access that artwork. This morning, I made them see the error of their ways. Besides, they really didn’t like the sound of his gambling addiction being made public.”
Erin sat back in the recliner, closed her eyes, and examined what Jon had told her. She was a chump. Jon had warned her about warming up to the Caldwells, and she hadn’t listened. For once, couldn’t she read people as others did?
“Hey.” Jon’s whispered word drifted across the room to her. “You won, Pearl. This is a celebration, not a funeral.”
She won . . . Blinking, she looked to Jon. “So, Clara gets to stay?”
“The legal work isn’t all done, but yes, Clara gets to stay.”
Erin stared at the ceiling, her eyes still blinking.
A tear?
“Does that mean you’re happy?”
She nodded but didn’t dare speak. Nearly two months ago, she wouldn’t have believed it possible, but yes, she was happy. She could even feel it, name it.
“One more thing.” Jon reached into his briefcase and pulled out Corey’s journal. “His last passage—I have it marked—you should read it.” He held it out but didn’t cross the floor to give it to her.
So, did that mean he wanted her
to make the first move? Didn’t matter, really. She got up, walked the four- to five-foot distance between them, sat down on the couch, and accepted the journal.
“Will you stay here while I read it?” The last entry she’d read had resulted in a meltdown. She didn’t want a repeat of that.
“I’d be glad to.”
“I’ll be out when I’m done.” She carried the book to her bedroom, surprised by its weight. If it weren’t good, Jon wouldn’t want her to read it, would he?
There was one way to find out.
__________
April 3, 2019
I finished it, finally. My masterpiece. And then I cried. No surprise, right? It represents so many things: selfishness, brokenness, sacrifice, forgiveness. Real, true love.
In some ways I identify with King David. The man was royally messed up. (Yeah, very punny. Glad I’m the only one who’ll read this.) Anyway, the dude was an artist like me! No, he didn’t paint, but he was a musician and a poet. And, like me, he had his demons. I mean, the dude not only had an affair, but then he basically put out a contract on Bathsheba’s husband. So, David, king of Israel, a man after God’s own heart, was an adulterer and murderer and polygamist, just to name a few things. Yet, God loved him. Forgave him.
I think my favorite chapter in all the Bible has to be Psalm 51. I’ve prayed that Psalm so much over these past years, especially the words, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.”
And you know what? That prayer’s been answered, abundantly. God has forgiven me. He has cleansed my heart and restored joy. And someday, I’ll get to hug him and thank him in person. I can’t wait for that day!
So yeah, I get it now, although I wonder why I had to hurt so many people before God’s grace made sense to me. I’ve apologized to all but one. Well, I’ve said I’m sorry to Erin too, more than once, but it hasn’t felt genuine before. I think she knew that, too.
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