The Scarlet Thread

by Francine Rivers

  She shrugged, smiling at him. There was no time now to explain how she felt. Connected. A part of something tremendous and exhilarating. Whole. She tried to stop the tears, but they flowed like cleansing balm. Sorrow poured over and through her, filling her and bringing with it a deep hunger for the Lord. In its wake came hope and reassurance that everything would work out.

  Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned mightily against Thee. Mea culpa, mea culpa. Oh, God! Oh, God!

  How was it possible to feel so alive today, when only two days ago she had longed for death?

  The congregation rose to sing, and she rose with them, fumbling through the hymnal and mouthing the words when emotion kept her silent. She couldn’t read the words or even utter a sound, but it didn’t matter. Her heart sang. Carolyn stood beside her, oblivious and enthralled with baby Sean in his mother’s arms while Clanton, on her other side, fretted, convinced she was going nuts. She uttered a soft laugh and put her arm around him.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Let’s leave,” he hissed back.

  “No, we’re staying.” Forever.

  It was Dennis who served her Communion. She smiled up at him, remembering what she’d said to him as the traffic had streamed past them on the Hollywood Freeway. “You know what I was doing when you pulled up beside me, Officer? Praying. So much for divine intervention.”

  God had been intervening, all right. Mightily. He had brought her to a screeching halt on the dusty shoulder of a Los Angeles freeway rather than allow her to hurtle herself off the nearest cliff. And He did it because He loved her and would not let her go.

  She almost laughed as realization came, bringing joy with it. She had been standing on sacred ground and hadn’t even known it!

  “‘Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name . . . ,’” the congregation sang, and she sang with them, unable to remember a time when she had felt so happy.

  “Boy, am I glad that’s over,” Clanton said on the way home.

  “You’d better set your mind to get used to it. We’re going back.”

  “Oh, good!” Carolyn said.

  She earned a glare from her brother. “You want Mom blubbering again?”

  Sierra smiled at him. “I’ll try to contain myself.”

  Lying in bed that night, Sierra knew she needed to make some changes in her life. Immediate changes. For one thing, she couldn’t work for Ron anymore, not knowing how he felt about her. She realized her own feelings for him were confusing. She had always found him profoundly attractive. Several times, she’d thought how much better her life would be had she been married to Ron rather than Alex. That stopped her.

  She was too vulnerable right now to think rationally. With Alex gone, she was needy. She was afraid of so many things. Ron was strong and confident. It would be too easy to turn to him for solace. Seeking solace could lead her into an affair.

  She was still married. She needed to remember that, despite the present circumstances. For better or worse, Alex was her husband. Until death. Right now, she imagined Alex was wishing for hers. Not that she was feeling particularly fond of him, either. But feelings didn’t make any difference.

  She didn’t want to think about Alex now. She couldn’t and continue to feel the sense of comfort and rightness she had experienced this morning. “Do not be anxious for tomorrow,” the pastor had read this morning, and here she was obsessing again. She couldn’t do anything about Alex or her marriage. But she could do something about herself and her circumstances.

  Ron looked sick when he came in Monday morning. His eyes were shadowed.

  “Can we talk?” she said before he went into his office. He paused and looked back at her bleakly. She didn’t have to say a word. He knew.

  “You’ve decided to quit.”

  She blushed. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay until you can find a replacement.”

  “And feel uncomfortable every minute,” he said, expression grim. How odd that this man, after only a few months, could know her better than Alex seemed to know her after thirteen years of marriage. Ron knew her better than anyone, except her mother.

  “I knew when you left Friday this would happen. I talked with Judy. She can stand in for you until I find a permanent replacement. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I think I’m going to sell the house.” It hadn’t even occurred to her until that instant.

  “Are you going home to Healdsburg?”

  “No,” she said, surprising herself again. “I’m not sure what I’ll do. I hadn’t even thought about it until now.”

  “You never even guessed how I felt about you, did you?”

  “Briefly, but I thought I was being foolish.”

  “I should’ve waited a little longer.”

  She met his gaze, her eyes compassionate. “It wouldn’t have made any difference, Ron.”

  “It would’ve made all the difference in the world.”

  Looking into the blue depths of his eyes, she knew he was right. Thank You, God, her heart breathed. Thank You that Ron waited as long as he did. Thank You for sparing me and Ron from what could have been a terrible mistake. And forgive me. All the while I was casting stones at Alex, I was tumbling into the abyss myself. “I’m married, Ron.”

  “Until Alex can find a way out.”

  His words hurt, for she knew Alex was doing everything he could to gain that end. Every time he spoke with her, he felt the need to drive home two facts: he wasn’t coming back, and he didn’t love her anymore.

  Regret washed over Ron’s face. “I didn’t say that to hurt you, Sierra.”

  “I know, but it does.”

  “I’ll call you when it’s over.” He went into his office and closed the door.

  Gathering her things, Sierra left. On her way out, she gave Arlene her ivy plant and a hug.

  Instead of going home, she went to the mall. She bought a cappuccino, sat on a bench next to a big fern, and watched the hustle-bustle of people shopping. She supposed she had the qualifications to be a clerk, but was that what she wanted to do? Alex was sending a check once a month to cover expenses, and every time she opened the envelope, she wilted at the sight of his bold signature. Somehow, gut-level, she knew that check wrote her off.

  Not once in her life had she supported herself. Father, can I do this? she prayed, feeling overwhelmed.

  Ask and you shall receive, Daughter.

  The assurance washed over her, and she settled back, sipping her cappuccino. She’d told Ron she was putting the house up for sale. She didn’t know why she’d said that at the time, but it seemed a good idea now that she thought about it. If she remained where she was, it was certain she’d never be able to handle the finances herself. House payments were bad enough, but add to that the BMW payments and private school for the children and the sum was far beyond any expectations of earnings she might have.

  Sierra could see herself living out her life at the mailbox, waiting for whatever money Alex doled out to her. She could imagine his resentment. He adored his children and wouldn’t begrudge a dime to them, but every penny he sent for her support would be another matter.

  She spent the day wandering in the mall, thinking. When she picked up the children, she took them to their favorite fast-food restaurant. “I’ve decided to sell the house,” she told them, knowing her announcement was abrupt, but unable to think of any other way to break the news of her decision to them.

  “Are we going home to Windsor?” Clanton said.

  “No. We’re going to look around San Fernando Valley and see what we can find near the church. We might even look at condominiums. There’s a complex just down the street. I saw a swimming pool and tennis courts. We’ll have to see what we can afford.”

  “Can we still go to the same school?” Carolyn said.

  “No, honey. It’s too expensive.” She didn’t want to ask Alex for any more money than she had to. “It makes more sense to go to a school in you
r own neighborhood.”

  “So I won’t get to see Pamela?”

  “You can see Pamela as often as we can arrange it, and you can call her whenever you want.”

  Sierra prayed that night, frightened by the speed with which her life was changing, but in the morning, she stepped out in faith and called Roberta Folse. She explained Alex had signed the house over to her before leaving her. Roberta was sympathetic but warned her not to expect a profit.

  “You haven’t been in the house long enough to build much equity, Sierra.”

  “We decorated. Maybe that’ll help.”

  “You’ll be lucky to break even. And then you’re going to have to pay capital gains out of whatever you do get if you don’t reinvest in something of equivalent or higher value in eighteen months. Is there any chance Alex will come back?”

  “No.”

  “If he’s keeping up the payments, you might do better staying where you are. I’d love a commission, Sierra, but not at the expense of your well-being. Why don’t you take a few more days to think things over and give me a call in another week or two?”

  Sierra did take a few more days. She prayed over it. She talked to Dennis and Noreen and got their opinion. The answer seemed clear. She needed to stand on her own two feet, trust the Lord, and stop depending on Alex. She called Roberta again.

  Roberta came over the following afternoon.

  “Oh, my word!” she said upon entering the house. “You didn’t tell me Bruce Davies decorated your living room.”

  Roberta’s remark absolved any doubts Sierra had ever had about Bruce Davies leaving his own stamp on everything he did. “Not just the living room, Roberta. The entire house.”

  “The entire house?”

  “Yes.”

  “That must have cost you a bundle.” Roberta sat down on the dark-brown leather couch and put her briefcase carefully on the thick glass-topped table.

  Sierra grimaced, seeing how Roberta stared at the muraled wall with a perplexed expression. It was one of the reasons she usually avoided the living room. “It’s one of Alex’s video games,” she said.

  “I’d swear there’s someone watching me.”

  “There is. Actually, if you look at it long enough, you’ll see six men and one woman hiding in that jungle. It’s called Camouflage. If I turn out the lights, their eyes glow red.”

  “How much did you put into decorating the house?”

  Sierra told her.

  “We’ll add ten thousand to that and see what happens.”

  Roberta called Saturday morning. “Be sure you take a look at the Los Angeles Times tomorrow morning.”

  Sierra forgot all about it until Carolyn came in the next morning while she was blow-drying her hair. “Daddy’s on the phone,” she said and held it out.

  Surprised, Sierra shut off the dryer and took the phone, wondering why he was calling her so early on a Sunday. “Yes?”

  “Is that our house on the cover of the real estate section?”

  She could feel the heat of his anger through the receiver. It all but melted the telephone in her hand. Her defenses rose. She almost reminded him he’d signed the house over to her, so it wasn’t their house anymore. It was her house. Instead, she managed a mild, “Yes, it is.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I can’t stay here, Alex. It’s too—”

  “You’re not selling that house.”

  “I have to move, Alex. I’ve thought it all over and—”

  “You have to move where?” he sneered. “To Healdsburg so I’ll never see my children again! Over my dead body, Sierra! You hear me?” He swore at her in Spanish. He used a word so foul her face heated.

  “I hear you, Alex, but I’m not—”

  He didn’t give her the chance to get further than that. Cursing again, he blistered her with the same accusations Audra had leveled at her a few weeks earlier, only adding personal and private faults on top. If Audra’s words had shocked, Alex’s battered and bruised. He meant to annihilate her, and he was doing a good job of it. He spoke in Spanish, which made it all the worse. He never spoke Spanish unless his emotions were out of control. Unfortunately, she understood every single word he said.

  “I’ve called my attorney,” he said, falling back into crisp English again. “I’m going to fight you, Sierra. No matter what it takes, I’m not letting you walk away with my children. I’m sick of this situation. I’m sick of you!” He told her she could hold her breath until Hades froze over before he’d send her another dime. “It’s bad enough Clanton won’t talk to me. Now you think you can put four hundred miles between me and my daughter!”

  He took a breath, and into that brief space of time Sierra said with miraculous calm, “We aren’t moving north, Alex.”

  “Where then? East? New York, maybe? That’s three thousand miles instead of four hundred. Or Hawaii. Right! Hawaii. That’s it. That’d put an ocean between us!”

  The storm of his anger blew about her like a tornado around a bruised reed. “I’m hoping to buy a condo in Northridge.”

  Silence.

  She looked in the mirror and wondered how much makeup it would take to put color back in that stranger’s face. Looking away, she swallowed hard before she tried to say anything else. “I have to go,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. “Church starts in less than an hour.” She took a slow breath, squelching the desire to cry. She had cried enough over the past few years. Buckets of tears. Mostly for herself. “Alex, I promise you’ll know everything as we do it. Clanton and Carolyn will never be out of your reach. I promise.”

  Pressing the button, she set the telephone on the bathroom counter. Nauseated, she thought about going back to bed and pulling the covers up over her head. But what good would that do?

  “Three years I’ve watched you wallow in self-pity and keep up your temper tantrum. And it’s been something to watch, Sierra. A real show!”

  Shuddering, she turned her thoughts to Dennis and Noreen and a dozen others who welcomed her and the children every Sunday. She had a choice. She could stay home and do exactly what Audra and Alex would expect her to do, or she could finish getting ready and go to church. She could learn something and, with God’s help, start putting her own life back in order.

  The house sold the first week. Full price.

  When escrow closed thirty days later, the check Sierra received looked like an obscene amount of money. It dwindled fast when she sent half of it to Alex, made a 20 percent down payment on a modest three-bedroom condominium in Northridge, and paid her capital gains taxes out of what remained. If it weren’t for her inheritance, she wouldn’t have qualified for a loan in the first place. As it was, most of her assets were tied up in the Mathesen Street house in Healdsburg.

  The telephone rang while Sierra was in the kitchen packing boxes. She avoided answering the telephone whenever possible. Alex had called several times during the past month. Luckily, Carolyn always flew to the phone when it rang, hoping it was her father. Clanton never picked it up, for the same reason. Carolyn spent two Saturdays a month with Alex, but she never said much about their day together. And Sierra didn’t ask any questions.

  “It’s Daddy,” Carolyn said now, holding the phone out to her. “He wants to talk to you.” The hope in her eyes made Sierra want to weep.

  “Thanks, honey.” She took the phone, knowing exactly why he had called. She hadn’t spoken with him since he’d read her the riot act over putting the house up for sale in the first place, and this conversation was destined to be no more pleasant.

  “Why’d you send this check to me?” Alex said hotly.

  Her heart gave a flip at the sound of his voice. “It’s your half of the proceeds from the house.”

  “I signed the house over to you. Remember?” He sounded bitter about it.

  “I remember, but I didn’t feel right about keeping all the money.”

  “That’s a big surprise. It never bothered you to keep my mo
ney before. Why change now? And while we’re on the subject, why’d you send my check back last week?”

  “Because you said you’d never send me another dime, and I thought I’d hold you to your word.”

  He spat a short, foul expletive. “So what are you going to do, Sierra? Make the kids eat at the local mission?”

  “I have a job.”

  “Yeah, right. Working for Ron Peirozo at Los Angeles Outreach. I don’t imagine it pays much.”

  “I don’t work there anymore.”

  “Got fired, huh? Well, six months is something, I guess. That’s longer than any other job you’ve held in your life.”

  Pushed to the limit by his scathing sarcasm and condescension, she almost blurted out the truth. I left because Ron is in love with me and wants me to forget about you, to leave you in the dust like you’ve left me! He wants to be with me! He wants to marry me, Alex. He’s a millionaire and he wants me! I left because it was the right thing to do, not that you care!

  But she didn’t. He wouldn’t believe her anyway. As much as he hated her, he’d find it impossible to think any other man would find her attractive or intriguing. And she wasn’t about to humiliate herself by trying to convince him.

  What does the Lord require of you?

  She could hear the verse as clearly now as she’d heard it on Sunday, when the pastor had read it—and it brought her thoughts to an abrupt halt. What did the Lord require? Justice, kindness, humility . . . yet here she was, wandering down the familiar path of bitterness and self-pity again.

  She drew a steadying breath. Lord, I hurt him. I know I did. Please forgive me. I can’t tell him I’m sorry right now because he won’t listen, but You know how I feel. You know what I did to start this war. I don’t want to be part of it anymore.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Alex demanded when she made no response to his last insult.

  “I’m going to be a secretary in an insurance agency.”

  “You’ll last two weeks, tops.”

  “Is that an estimation of my abilities or of how boring the industry is?” she said, trying to instill some lightness into her tone.