by Beth Wiseman
That’s what everyone wanted to hear anyway.
That night, Darlene waited until Brad was in the shower before she began searching his drawers, his briefcase, anywhere she could think of to find out more information about Barbara. She felt like a criminal, even though she wasn’t the one who’d possibly broken their marriage vows. Every time she thought about what Brad had said to that woman, she felt a pain in her heart.
What had he turned her into? A pathetic sneak looking for clues to his infidelity? She hadn’t been able to look at him all evening. Partly because she wanted to poke his eyes out, but also because she loved him with all her heart. She knew she would forgive him for anything, if he would just be honest with her, but she didn’t know how to bring up the subject. And she didn’t really want to without knowing more. Tomorrow she’d talk to Layla, if Tom’s car was gone.
She closed her eyes. Why is this happening, Lord? Why?
It was all she could do to pray tonight. She’d always heard that God wouldn’t give you more than you could handle. When she’d walked into Grace’s room, with the blood, the cuts on her baby girl—at that moment, she was sure she couldn’t handle anything else. Never in a million years would she have thought Brad would do something like this. And every time she tried to reconcile her thoughts, she wondered if maybe she was wrong. But what other reason could there be for his sharp tone with that woman, and his saying that if Darlene found out, their marriage would be over? And what about the many phone calls every day? Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned away as Brad walked from the bathroom, his hair wet, a white towel around his waist.
“You okay, baby?” Brad opened his drawer for some underwear, and Darlene was glad he wasn’t looking directly at her. She was already ready for bed. Dabbing at her eyes, she rolled onto her side, facing away from him.
“Yeah. Just tired.”
“Me too. Long day.”
She heard him slip into his boxers and a T-shirt, and he crawled into bed. While he flipped the channels on the television, Darlene fought the sobs in her throat. How could he just lie there beside her, like everything was normal?
Darlene had never felt more abnormal in her life, like she was in someone else’s bad dream.
The next morning, Brad dressed for work, ate a quick bowl of cereal, and kissed Darlene before he walked out the door. Just like he’d always done. She wanted to ask him about Barbara so badly that her stomach hurt. Maybe having it all out on the table would be better than the wondering, speculating— the horrible visions in her head. Or . . . would the truth be so terrible she’d never get over it? What if she confronted him and he wanted a divorce? What if he was in love with this woman?
The kids left for school shortly after Brad, and Darlene forced herself to do the household tasks that morning. But nothing could distract her from what she’d overheard. She looked out the window and across the pasture at Layla’s house—again. Tom’s car was still there, and she didn’t want to intrude. She was happy for Layla and hoped things worked out for her and Tom, but right now she sure needed Layla’s blunt honesty. Layla would tell her what to do.
Finally, around noon, Tom’s car was gone. Layla might have gone with him somewhere, but Darlene grabbed her cell phone to find out. When Layla answered, Darlene hesitantly asked if she was home. When Layla said yes, Darlene invited herself over. Fifteen minutes later, she was on Layla’s couch telling her everything.
“It’s terrible that I went through his phone records and his briefcase and everything, isn’t it?” Darlene laid her head back against Layla’s couch and closed her eyes, waiting for Layla to tell her that she was perfectly justified.
“I don’t understand why you don’t just ask him about it.” Layla crossed one leg over the other in the chair across from her. Once again, she looked like the movie star she once was, dressed in a bright-red halter sundress with lipstick that matched the dress perfectly. Her hair was long and loose below her shoulders, and she kicked one of her bare feet back and forth, the color of her toenails the same color red as her fingernails. Darlene didn’t think she could ever look that glamorous, and it seemed to come so naturally to Layla. Even when Layla was in her blue jeans, work shirt, and boots, she was beautiful. And today, there was an aura of calm surrounding her. Her voice was softer, she spoke slower, and her movements weren’t as sharp and quick as they usually were. Darlene felt terrible for dumping all this on her friend, but Layla was all she had. Now, more than ever.
“I’m afraid of what he’ll tell me,” she finally said, then swallowed hard.
Layla looked at her long and hard. “Tom cheated on me once, a few years after Marissa was born.”
“So what happened?”
Layla shook her head. “Biggest fight we ever had. I threw things, punched him in the chest, and cried until I didn’t have any more tears.” She paused. “Then I forgave him.”
Darlene raised an eyebrow. “Just like that? You forgave him?”
“We lived a crazy life back then.” She gazed off for a few moments before she looked back at Darlene. “Opportunities to be bad were abundant. But I knew deep down that Tom loved me, and I wanted us to stay a family, to raise Marissa together. And no . . . I didn’t forgive him just like that. It was hard to trust him for a long time.” She paused again. “I punished him for probably longer than I should have, but . . . eventually we grew back into the couple we’d been before. Then . . .” Layla got up and walked to the hutch against the wall. She picked up a picture of Marissa. “Then I just couldn’t look at him after Marissa died. I blamed him. I blamed me. I blamed God. And he did the same thing.”
“But things are good now?” Darlene wondered if she and Brad would fall apart and eventually make things right. She wasn’t sure she’d survive all that.
Layla brought the picture to her heart, pressed it there for a while, then put it back on the hutch. She turned to Darlene and slowly walked back to the chair and sat down. “Yes. Things are good. It doesn’t mean we will get back together, but we are in a good place.”
Darlene nodded. “So what do I do about me and Brad?”
“Talk to him.”
“I can’t. I’m afraid.” She blinked back tears.
“What are you most afraid of?”
She thought about the question. “That . . . that he loves someone else.”
“I doubt that. I thought you guys had a good marriage.”
“Everything’s been great, not perfect. I mean, we’ve had our moments when we’re tired, stressed about money, kids, or something. But overall, yeah . . . we’ve had a very good marriage. I’ve always thought of Brad as my best friend, and I can’t stand to have this between us, and . . .” She stopped when she started to cry. “I’m sorry, Layla. I just don’t know who else to talk to.”
“Yes, you do.” Layla smiled. “You know exactly who to talk to.”
“I guess I have to confront Brad about this.” She blinked her eyes a few times, covering her mouth with her hand.
“That’s not who I meant. If you hadn’t given me a little push to pray again, I don’t think I would have ever gotten the strength to press forward, to believe that it was okay to be happy again. Pray about it, Darlene.”
“I have been.” It was the truth, but Darlene felt like she was detached somehow from God, and she couldn’t figure out why. “You said one time that when God thinks our life is too good, He humbles us by taking something away from us, and—”
“Oh, good grief. Forget all that, Darlene. Really. I was so angry at God, and a bottle of wine usually fueled my rage enough to blame everything on Him. I shouldn’t have said all that, and you shouldn’t take it to heart.”
“I need you to tell me what to do.” Darlene threw her head against the back of the couch again. “Should I just talk to him, get it over with?”
“I just told you what I think you should do. I think you should pray about it.”
Frustrated, she got off the couch. She wanted Layla to lay it out for her,
a plan, something besides the obvious. Darlene had been praying, about her and Brad, about Grace. Something wasn’t clicking, and she needed some direction. “I better go.”
“Oh, don’t be mad.” Layla stood up. “I know you came here for me to tell you what to do, and a few weeks ago, I’d have probably told you to string that boy up by his . . .” She took a deep breath. “But life is too short.”
Then Layla did the unexpected. She walked over to Darlene and hugged her, and she let Darlene cry in her arms.
Despite the chaos in her life, Darlene knew one thing for sure: Layla was her friend, and she was thankful for that.
Now she needed to go home and get ready for the inevitable.
She had to confront Brad.
Chapter Eighteen
Brad pulled into the driveway, hoping the package from UPS had been delivered today. And he was glad that Barbara seemed to be listening to him, to his way of thinking. The woman was going to destroy him if he wasn’t careful. He hurried up the porch steps. Darlene was in the kitchen.
“UPS show up today?” He kissed her on the cheek. “Mmm . . . smells good in here.”
“No. I was at Layla’s for a while around noon, but I’ve been home the rest of the day, and no deliveries.” She pulled plates out of the cabinet as Brad helped himself to a glass of tea.
“Well, maybe tomorrow. I know it was back-ordered, so I’m not sure exactly when to expect it.”
As she laid the plates on the table, Brad noticed her red and swollen eyes for the first time. He edged closer to her. “What’s wrong? Did everything go okay at Grace’s counseling session?” Brad had been praying a lot for Grace, and his heart raced as he waited for Darlene to answer.
“I spoke with Dr. Brooks after Grace’s session, and she thinks Grace is making progress.”
Brad breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” After he took another sip of his tea, he leaned down, touched Darlene on the arm. “Then why do you look like you’ve been crying? You okay?”
She eased away from him, opened the oven, and pulled out a casserole. “I’m okay. Just tired.”
After she put the dish on the table, Brad walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He kissed her on the neck. “Maybe we can go to bed early.”
“Maybe.”
There was no mistaking the way she tensed up.
Darlene had been distant the past few days, but he knew better than to push his wife. She’d talk to him when she was ready.
Three days later, Darlene still hadn’t confronted Brad. Talking to him might end everything she’d cherished and known to be true throughout her entire marriage. She wasn’t ready to face a reality that might shatter her whole life. Her stomach was a wreck, but she thought that not knowing was better than what Brad’s reaction might be. Would he adamantly deny being involved with Barbara? Would he say it was over? Would he lie to her?
If Brad lied to her, she would know. He was a terrible liar. When she’d guessed her Christmas present last year, Brad had looked her in the eye and denied getting her the pearl necklace she’d pointed out a few weeks earlier at a jewelry store in the mall. She’d just smiled and let him think that it would be a surprise. Brad loved to buy her gifts, but he never could keep a secret.
She sat down on the couch, stared at the ham sandwich she’d made herself, and forced a bite down.
Apparently Brad had been successful about keeping his secret about Barbara, so maybe he was a better liar than she’d thought. She put the sandwich on the plate beside her as she eased her feet up on the coffee table. Her house was the cleanest it had been in years. Staying busy had kept her mind occupied, but she’d run out of things to clean. And with the kids in school, it was quiet enough for her mind to wander to bad places. Is Brad having lunch with Barbara right now? Are they in a sleazy hotel somewhere? Or maybe Brad ended it?
She took a few more bites of her sandwich before she went to the kitchen and tossed it in the trash, knowing she needed to do something. As she looked around for ways to occupy her time, she heard a car coming up the driveway.
Peeking out the window, she watched Dave and Cara step out of Dave’s car. Darlene pulled off her small loop earrings, tucked her dove pendant inside her T-shirt, and wrestled with her wedding ring until it slipped off her finger. She put everything on the hutch by the front door and walked onto the porch. Blocking the sun with her hand, she called out as friendly a hello as she could muster up.
“I hope it’s okay, but The Evans School closed early today when the air-conditioning stopped working, and Cara and I were wondering if we could visit the chickens.” Dave waved, and as always, he was perfectly put together in navy shorts and a yellow, collared shirt. Darlene glanced down at her blue jean shorts, white flip-flops, and her pink T-shirt with the Nike emblem on it. She’d had the T-shirt for as long as she could remember. It was a favorite, but it was as raggedy a thing as she owned. Why did Dave always catch her looking like this? She twisted her hair up on her head and secured it with a band she always kept on her wrist during the hot summer months. Her short ponytail wasn’t necessarily going to improve her appearance, but it was over a hundred degrees outside.
“Of course you can visit the chickens.” Darlene walked slowly toward Dave and Cara. “Nice to see you.” She turned to Cara and smiled. “Hello, Cara.”
Cara didn’t move toward her but instead pointed toward the chicken coop. “Ansley’s chickens.”
“Yes. We can go see Ansley’s chickens.”
Dave pushed his dark sunglasses up on his head. “I hope you don’t mind us just stopping by. It was a last-minute thought since we found ourselves with a free afternoon. I looked up your home phone number and tried to call, but my cell kept losing service, and I couldn’t get the call to go through.”
“Cell service is touch and go out here, and I don’t mind at all.” Darlene welcomed the distraction. “Now, you know I’m not a big fan of these birds.” She smiled as she motioned for them to follow her to the chicken coop. “So I might not be venturing in there.”
“Oh no. It’s all right. We can just look at the chickens from outside. You don’t have to open the cage door.” Dave was holding Cara’s hand as they approached the birds. Two chickens were running around, and the others were perched in their roosting boxes.
Cara let go of Dave’s hand and ran to the cages. “Feed Ansley’s chickens!” She bounced on her heels as she pointed to the chickens. Cara looked so pretty in her red shorts, white blouse, and flat white sandals. The Evans School was open year-round, so a day off was a nice treat for Cara.
“Cara, I don’t think we need to go inside,” Dave said as he and Darlene walked up beside her.
“Feed Ansley’s chickens,” Cara repeated, this time looking up at Darlene.
“It’s fine with me, if you don’t think the chickens will scare her. I don’t like when they start flapping and running around. Ansley doesn’t mind when they do that, but Cara might.”
“Maybe just for a minute, Cara.” Dave leaned down and untwisted the piece of wire that kept the small gate closed. Cara walked inside, and as Darlene had feared, the chickens began to get worked up, flapping their wings and scurrying around. Darlene stayed outside while Dave followed Cara in. Cara didn’t seem bothered as she moved about the chickens, giggling every time one of them made a noise or raced in front of her.
As Cara moved to the back of the pen, the unthinkable happened. Four of the chickens darted in front of Dave, past Darlene, and out the door. Knowing how Ansley felt about her beloved chickens, Darlene jogged across the yard to round them up. “Back! Back!” she yelled as she tried to corral the birds back toward the cage. It was one thing for Ansley to let the birds run loose occasionally, but Ansley also had a system to get them back in their pens.
Out of the corner of her eye, Darlene saw Dave pull Cara out of the coop, even though she screamed and tried to resist. He locked the door so the other two birds were secure. “I’ve got to help Darlene get
Ansley’s chickens, Cara. Don’t move.” He pointed a finger at her, but Cara scurried about, laughing and sending the chickens racing even farther away. One large brown hen disappeared behind the farmhouse.
“Darlene, I am so sorry,” Dave said as he dropped his sunglasses back on his face. Then he ran to the left, and Darlene ran to the right, both of them waving their arms and making shoo noises as they tried to coax the chickens toward the coop. But every time one got close, Cara jumped up and down and scared it back in the other direction.
Ten minutes later, Darlene and Dave were both soaking wet from sweat, and only one chicken had ventured back toward the cage. Darlene stopped and tried to catch her breath. Dave took her cue and also took a break.
“Are we doing this right?”
Darlene laughed. “Probably not.”
Dave walked closer to her and eyed all the loose chickens kicking at the grass a few yards away. “Should we lure them with some feed in a pan?”
“That might work.” Darlene went into the pen and picked up an empty feed pan. She walked around the corner to the barn and dipped the pan into a large feed bag. She jumped when she felt Dave brush up beside her. He was dripping in sweat like she was, and with only a small amount of light shining in through the barn window, she watched him run a hand over his forehead. Then he took the pan from her.
“Here, let me do that.” He reached down in front of her, so close his chest brushed against her leg as he scooped deep into the almost-empty bag. When he lifted up, his face was within inches of hers. Sweat rolled down her cheeks as she locked eyes with him. She could hear Cara laughing around the corner, and she studied Dave’s face. So serious, gazing back at her. She thought about the tenderness he’d always showed her, and for reasons she would analyze to death in the near future, she leaned her face closer to his. He didn’t move as she leaned up and kissed him lightly on the mouth. When she eased away, Dave’s eyes clung to hers, searching her face. He cupped her face in his hands, and even though she pulled against him, his lips were persuasive, passionate, and as he explored her mouth in a way that she knew was forbidden, she kissed him back.