A Trusting Heart

by Judith Mccoy Miller

  Jake nodded his agreement and attempted to focus on the remainder of the meeting although by the time they adjourned, he realized that his thoughts had been on Claire rather than the discussion.

  “Jake!” Bill called as the group began to disperse. “Wait up a minute. I’ll walk over to the hospital mess hall with you.”

  “Hope you weren’t too discouraged by the group’s reaction,” Bill said as he caught up with Jake.

  “Doesn’t sound like anyone has much confidence in my ability to stay sober,” he replied while they walked. “This is my first visit to Stuttgart,” he told Bill, attempting to change the subject.

  “Well, I can think of better ways to get here than signing in to the patient treatment facility,” Bill said, giving him a pat on the back. “Jake, you’re doing an excellent job in the program, and I don’t think the comments that were made today were designed to discourage you. But there is always a concern when an alcoholic must deal with unexpected rejection or a devastating problem right after leaving treatment. I think the group is concerned that you may be setting yourself up for failure. And you must remember that we’re supposed to speak honestly. If nothing else, the members of your group have learned that lesson well!”

  “I think I’m right about this, Bill. I love Claire, and I want to marry her,” he insisted.

  “Tell you what—on rare occasions, I break the rules around this place. I know you’re not permitted telephone calls until next week, but I’m going to consider this as a part of your treatment program. I want you to call this lady and talk to her. See how she feels about you and the idea of marriage. If she’s as steadfast about staying single as you told us in the beginning of treatment, we’ll have a couple of weeks left to deal with the issue,” Bill said as they walked through the cafeteria line, selecting their food.

  “I don’t know. I was thinking more along the line of surprising her,” Jake replied as they sat down on the vinyl-covered chairs surrounding an olive drab, Formica-topped metal table.

  “Trust me on this one, Jake. It’s not a good time for surprises,” Bill stressed.

  “Okay, I’ll call her,” he agreed, without voicing his conviction that no matter what Claire said on the telephone, he was going to be her husband. He was sure that God had brought Claire into his life and he was just as sure there was more to His plan. After all, he thought, God could have used anybody or nobody at all if He wanted to get my attention. But he used Claire and Michelle, who need me just as much as I need them. Bill and the group can’t begin to understand why Claire doesn’t want to marry, and they think it’s just about me. They don’t realize that she’s afraid—not just for herself, but also for Michelle’s future.

  “You done eating?” Bill asked while pushing his chair away from the table, the metal legs scraping on the concrete floor. “I’ve got an alcohol education class to teach in a few minutes.”

  “Be right with you,” Jake answered, carrying his tray across the room and placing the dirty dishes and silverware in the designated bins.

  “I should be done with class about two o’clock. Why don’t you meet me, and we’ll place that phone call,” Bill called back over his shoulder as he sprinted up the stairs toward one of the converted classrooms.

  ❧

  Maybe she won’t be home, Jake thought as he dialed for an overseas operator, fearing Claire’s rejection. It was five-thirty at night in Kansas. She was probably watching The Tonight Show or reading a book—Jake hoped it was in a hotel room. His confidence continued to wane as the operator told him his call had been completed and the ringing at the end of the telephone line began to sound in his ear. On the fourth ring he was sure there would be no answer, and his spirits began to soar. But just as he opened his mouth to tell Bill there was no answer, a breathless voice at the other end of the line greeted him.

  “Hello. Hello—is anyone there?”

  “Claire? This is Jake. Is that you, Claire?”

  “It sure is. Were you trying to reach someone else?” she asked, giggling.

  “No, only you,” he answered while looking toward Bill, who took Jake’s cue and exited the room.

  “How have you been, Jake? Have you been getting my letters?” she asked. “I didn’t know you could make phone calls,” she continued.

  “I’ve gotten your letters, and they’ve meant the world to me, Claire. I hope you’ll keep writing—at least for another week or so. I wasn’t allowed to call. . .”

  “Wait a minute. How come you want me to write only for another week? Are you being discharged or something?” she interrupted.

  “I finish treatment in two weeks; then I’m coming back to the States on leave for thirty days. Before you know it, I’ll be seeing you again,” he ventured.

  “I’m sure you’ve got more important people than me that you want to see when you get home,” she replied.

  He sensed the hesitation in her voice and felt his throat begin to constrict. “Claire, there’s nobody more important to me. I want to marry you.” The silence was deafening. “Did you hear me, Claire? I want to marry you—I want us to be a family,” he repeated.

  “I heard you, Jake, but I told you that marriage isn’t in my plans. Remember the conversation we had when we met almost a year ago? You know—the one when we both avowed our intent to remain single?” she asked, obviously uncomfortable with his pronouncement.

  “Claire, I know you care for me. Surely you won’t deny that,” he said, with a note of urgency in his voice.

  “Of course I care for you, Jake,” she answered in a strained, yet condescending tone.

  “Don’t patronize me, Claire. You know what I’m talking about. Can you deny what you felt when we kissed?”

  “No, Jake, I can’t. But a kiss is not the test of whether you love someone, and it’s certainly not enough to build a marriage upon. I’ve continued writing to lend my support while you’re going through these tremendous changes in your life. Accepting Jesus is the single most important thing you’ll ever do in your lifetime, and giving up alcohol is probably the next. However, marriage to me is out of the question,” she told him in a soft voice.

  “I would have said giving up alcohol was out of the question six weeks ago, but I’ve done it. Nobody would have convinced me that I’d ever be so reliant upon God just a short time ago, but I am,” he countered, hoping she would at least give him some thread of hope—something to hang onto.

  “I hear what you’re saying; you have made tremendous changes in your life, but. . .”

  “But who knows if they’ll last, and you’re not going to take a chance, right?” he questioned, finishing her sentence.

  “You’re putting words in my mouth. That’s not what I intended to say, but you make a valid point about whether or not I can trust the that changes will last,” she said.

  Jake had only himself to thank for opening that door and he knew it. Claire wouldn’t have voiced her fear that he’d slip back into his old pattern. She’d have been afraid the words would cut too deeply.

  “Let me say this, Claire, and then I won’t push you anymore—at least not during this conversation. Life holds no guarantees, and people constantly change depending on the circumstances in their lives. Would you agree with that?”

  “Yes, I agree we have to adapt to circumstances,” she cautiously replied.

  “You and Michelle have made a tremendous impact upon my life. Knowing you has made me realize how much I long for a Christ-centered home and a normal life. Hearing how you’ve learned to accept life’s problems, and instead of becoming bitter and turning against God, how you’ve run to Him for your protection has made me want to have that same type of relationship. I’m working through anger from my past and looking to God for healing and direction in my life. All I’m asking for now is that you trust me—give me a chance,” he persuasively argued.

  “I don’t know what to say. I need time to think and pray about this, Jake. The last thing either of us needs to do is make a mistake re
garding our futures. I’ll make no promises or commitments to you—except to continue praying,” she replied.

  “I know that a large part of your reaction is due to fear, but I promised I wouldn’t push you any further right now. You keep praying. In a little over two weeks I’ll be home, and we’ll discuss this in person,” he said.

  “Please don’t come here, Jake. Go home to your family instead. That’s where you need to spend your time—rebuilding relationships with them,” she advised.

  “I hear you, Claire,” he replied. “Take care of yourself, and give Michelle a kiss for me.” He didn’t wait for her answer as he slowly replaced the telephone receiver into its cradle.

  “Hey, buddy, don’t get too down in the dumps,” Bill encouraged as he walked into the room. Jake was leaning forward in the chair, his elbows perched on his knees and his face buried between his large hands. “Things will work out—one way or the other—and either way, I know you’re going to make it.”

  “Thanks, Bill,” Jake replied. “Any chance I could go back to my room instead of that Alcoholics Anonymous meeting?”

  “Not a chance,” Bill said and then gave him a hearty laugh. “The best thing you can do for yourself right now is get to that AA. meeting. Going off by yourself right now will only be self-defeating. Besides, you’ve got all night to be alone,” Bill continued as he led Jake back toward the small chapel where the twice-daily AA. meetings were conducted.

  ❧

  Claire looked at her watch. It was eleven o’clock, not too late to call Gloria, she surmised as she dialed the telephone.

  “You busy?” Claire asked before Gloria had even completed the perfunctory “hello.”

  “It’s eleven o’clock on a Thursday night, and Roger is in the field until next week. Does that tell you anything?” Gloria asked. “What’s up? Kind of late for you to be calling.”

  “I just had a telephone call from Jake, and I needed to talk.”

  “You want me to come over, or you just want to talk on the telephone?” Gloria inquired.

  “He wants to marry me,” Claire stated, not answering Gloria’s question.

  “Oh, I think I’d better come over there to hear this,” Gloria replied excitedly. “Put on the coffee pot. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Obviously you didn’t obey any of the speed limits,” Claire said to her friend five minutes later as she opened the door. Gloria entered the kitchen, gave Claire a quick hug, and sat down at the kitchen table before the coffee had finished brewing.

  “Who’s worried about speed limits at a time like this! What is going on?”

  “I told you—Jake called and said he wanted to marry me,” Claire repeated.

  “And? What did you tell him?”

  “What do you think I told him?”

  “Yes?” Gloria hopefully ventured.

  “Oh, sure! You need to get serious. This isn’t some joking matter. Jake’s been in rehab for only six weeks now. . .”

  “Has it been six weeks already? Seems like only yesterday we were talking about that,” Gloria interrupted. Claire gave her friend a look of exasperation. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet. Please continue,” she said, pulling her fingers across her lips emphasize the point.

  “He’s got two weeks left, and from what I know, he’s doing great in the program. However, he seems to think that since he’s accepted Christ and given up drinking, all barriers to a marriage between the two of us have been removed.”

  “And?” Gloria urged.

  “And what? There’s more to marriage than giving up alcohol and becoming a Christian. You sound just like him!”

  “Claire! You’re the one who told the guy that you wouldn’t consider him because he abused alcohol and wasn’t a Christian. You’re also the one who continued talking to him on the telephone on a regular basis after you quit dating him. You and Jake know each other better than most married couples. From what you’ve told me, I don’t think there’s anything of importance that you two haven’t discussed—probably several times and in more depth than I’d even want to think about. Is that true or not?”

  “Yes, but. . .”

  “But, what? He’s measured up to your yardstick. Now you’re going to change the measurements?”

  “Whose side are you on? You’re supposed to be my friend!”

  “I am your friend, Claire. But I think when you set up that yardstick, you thought Jake either never would or never could measure up. Now that he’s done it, you’re afraid. Afraid to take a chance, afraid to make changes in your life, afraid to place your trust in God,” Gloria sternly moralized.

  “You’re only making things worse. I expected you to come over here and tell me. . .”

  “Tell you exactly what you wanted to hear. Before you send him packing, you’d better get on your knees. As I recall, that’s what you’re always telling me to do. Don’t take his proposal lightly, Claire. You told me that you cared for him and your life had changed since you two met. I also remember you saying that since you’d met Jake you weren’t as content with the idea of remaining single,” Gloria reminded her.

  “You’re right. I did say that, and it’s true. I do care for him, but I don’t know if I love him. Besides, being sober for six weeks doesn’t mean that he’ll stay that way the rest of his life. You may also recall that I told you I didn’t want to settle for someone who could turn my life into disaster.”

  “Unfortunately, people don’t come with refundable warranties, Claire. We could discuss this all night, but I think I’d better get home. If we don’t get some sleep, neither of us will earn our pay tomorrow.”

  Claire walked her friend to the door and then returned to the kitchen and cleared away the dishes, placing them in soapy water before turning off the lights. I guess it’s time I talk to you, Lord, she thought as she walked into her bedroom and knelt down beside the four-poster antique bed.

  FIFTEEN

  “Everyone’s invited to our quarters for dinner on Sunday afternoon,” Bill announced to the members of his group on Friday afternoon. “With graduation next Thursday morning, each of you will either be going home on leave or back to your duty assignments. My wife enjoys entertaining, so it has become a tradition to have my group over for dinner the last Sunday before graduation,” he explained. “So bring your appetites, and we’ll all have a good time,” he told them. “Don’t forget there’s a trip to a Bavarian clock factory planned for tomorrow afternoon and an AA. meeting tomorrow night. I expect all of you to be in attendance,” he called out as the members of the group began to scatter.

  Jake was becoming accustomed to having all of his free time planned. Each weekend was filled with compulsory entertainment for the participants in the drug and alcohol program. There were volksmarches through the German woods surrounding the military base, swimming at German pools followed by the steam rooms, traveling to AA. rally weekends, touring through German clock and glass factories, and sightseeing at ancient European castles. Jake enjoyed most of the functions and, coupled with mandatory attendance at AA. meetings twice a day, he had little time to himself.

  “Is attendance at your house compulsory?” Nick Soblinsky asked, a sullen look etched on his face and his voice loud enough that those remaining in the room turned around.

  “I’d rather think of it as something you’d enjoy attending. However, if you’ve got a problem, I’ll talk to you personally,” Bill replied.

  “I got nothing to hide from these people. I’ve been forced to give them my whole life history, thanks to you. If you give me a choice, I won’t be at your house. I’ve had enough of you to last a lifetime,” Soblinsky angrily retorted.

  Bill remained calm. “I’ve got nothing to hide from these people either, Nick. Just thought you might want to talk to me privately. If you don’t want to participate on Sunday, you can go with one of the other groups. I think they’re going bowling. I’ll put you on the list.”

  Nick nodded his assent and angrily strode from the room.
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  “What’s with him? He’s always trying to ruin everything,” one of the female group members said to Bill.

  “I’m afraid Nick’s got a ways to go toward reaching sobriety. Right now he’s merely dry,” Bill replied. “Don’t let his attitude rub off on you guys. We’re going to have a great time,” he encouraged them. “I’ve got to get upstairs, and you need to get to your meeting,” Bill told those who remained in the room.

  ❧

  “Nick doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Clark Emery stated as he prepared to take another bite of the rouladen and potato dumplings that Bill’s wife, Herta, had provided for their Sunday dinner.

  “That’s for sure,” Jake chimed in.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Herta replied. “Some people don’t like German food very well. That’s why I made the pot roast too,” she explained.

  “Looks like we’ll be eating pot roast tomorrow,” Bill said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “I don’t think anybody’s touched it.”

  “Who would eat pot roast when they can get authentic German cuisine like this,” Clark retorted as he ladled a dipper of rich, dark gravy over the dumplings he’d just piled onto his plate.

  “Don’t get too full,” she admonished. “I’ve got strudel for dessert.”

  “In that case, I’m not even going to consider seconds,” Jake replied. “Nothing I like better than German strudel.”

  Herta rewarded him with a smile just as her daughter ran into the room, dragging a huge doll.