She smiled, touched at how protective and supportive everyone had been. Maybe too protective. “I doubt Austin will come within a hundred feet of this place, the way Mr. Wilson’s manning the door.”
“Oh.” Melba’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll tell him to hang back some.” She darted off before Alice could say anything more, and soon, she and their boss were engaged in hushed conversation. A moment later, Mr. Wilson had moved his post to the first table, sitting stiff and awkward looking. It’d be hilarious, if Alice weren’t so freaked out by it all.
Melba grabbed a carafe of coffee and an empty mug, and returned to their boss. She shot Alice a wink while she filled it.
The rest of the morning dragged by with Alice trying to act professional and polite, trying not to jump at every incoming customer, and Melba keeping Mr. Wilson’s mug filled. Poor guy had to be floating and beyond ready for a bathroom break. But based on the jut of his jaw, he didn’t plan on moving.
By 10:30 a.m. the last of the breakfast crowd had left, and only one table was occupied. “Guess I’ll take my break now.” She dropped a damp dishrag on the counter and started for the break room.
“Girl.” Melba grabbed her by the wrist, and Alice’s heart pinched.
She stared from Melba to the diner entrance with wide eyes. Austin. His eyes zeroed in on the diner door, his chin lifted. He paused, pulled on the front of his shirt, straightened his collar, and finger combed his hair. Then, with a slight, cocky smile, he entered, scanning the restaurant.
Alice jerked back and flattened herself against the hall wall. She looked at Melba, her pulse pounding in her eardrums. What now?
Melba faced her. “He drives a truck, right?”
Alice nodded, her legs trembling.
“What kind?”
“I don’t know. A green Chevrol—no, a Dodge.”
Melba gave a jerk of her head, spun around, and scampered out of the restaurant, her fleshy arms pumping something fierce. Peering around the corner, Alice remained where she was, watching her boss and stalker.
“What do you mean I can’t come in here anymore?” A vein bulged along Austin’s temple, his neck red and splotchy. “That’s discrimination.”
“She doesn’t want to see you.” Mr. Wilson moved so that he blocked Austin’s way.
“What are you talking about?” Austin looked around. His gaze landed on Alice, and she shrank back, holding her breath.
“You best leave before I make you,” Mr. Wilson said, his voice deep and gravely. “Do I need to call the cops?”
“For what? Wanting something to eat? This is crazy. I don’t know what you did to get Alice spooked—” He raised his voice. “Alice? I want to talk—”
“I said out,” Mr. Wilson bellowed. “Now.”
No response.
The door chimed open then clanked shut, and murmurs filled the diner. Austin’s voice wasn’t among them, but even so, Alice remained where she was, her heart beating so fast, it hurt.
Heavy footsteps approached. She squealed when Mr. Wilson rounded the corner. When recognition dawned, she released a gush of air and, caving forward, covered her face with her hands.
He drew near and wrapped his arms around her in a fatherly embrace. “Shh. It’s all right. He won’t be bothering you anymore.”
She hoped he was right. Her fear? That Mr. Wilson’s actions had made Austin angry. And he knew where she lived.
Oh, Lord, Jesus, please help me.
What about Gertrude?
The door chimed open again, and heels clicked on the linoleum. Melba rounded the corner wearing a wide grin and waving her phone. “Girl, we got him now. Look what I got.” She showed Alice.
“Oh, Melba!” His license plate. She’d taken a picture of his license plate!
Melba swiped her finger across the screen, revealing another picture. This one was of his truck followed by images of Austin, first a back view, then side, then front on as he marched out of the diner. He looked furious.
She shivered and ran her hands up and down the backs of her goose-pimpled arms.
“Gonna send this to the police now.” She tapped her phone a few times then glanced up. “You still got that detective’s name and number?”
Alice nodded, dazed. Numb. “I’ll call him.”
Melba raised a hand and shook her head. “I got this. You need to go chill out for a minute. Breathe.”
“I know that’s right.” Frank let out a low whistle, eliciting a nervous laugh from Alice.
Mr. Wilson placed a strong hand on her back. “How about you get Melba the detective’s card then take a five minute break.”
She nodded, pressing a fisted hand to her mouth. “Thank you.”
That afternoon, still shook up from it all, Alice met Beth at a quiet coffeehouse on the outskirts of Seattle. She folded her napkin, spread it flat, then folded it again. “Hopefully now the police can find him. Figure out who he is—I’m not even sure Austin’s his real name.”
Deep lines stretched across Beth’s forehead. “So now what?”
She shrugged. “The King County Police said they’d launch an investigation to figure out who he is. They seem to be taking my concerns seriously, although I know I don’t have a whole lot to go on. I mean, we were sort of friends for a while. He came in to the restaurant to eat, gave me a ride. Twice.” Why had she ever gotten into his car in the first place? She should’ve known better.
“Do you think he’s the one who messed with your van?”
Alice swallowed “Probably.”
“So then what, you just wait?” Beth said. “Maybe you and Danny should come to our house.”
Alice stared into her cup, watching the foam melt into the coffee. She shook her head. “I need to stay with Gertrude, and I really don’t want to keep moving Danny around. He’s just getting settled in. So long as we keep the door and windows locked, we should be good. Besides, I’m probably getting all worked up over nothing.”
“He was watching your house, Alice.”
“Or stopping by to ask me out.”
Beth’s gaze intensified. “You don’t believe that for a second.”
Alice sighed. “No, I don’t.” She wrapped both hands around her mug, inhaling the cinnamon-scented steam. “Best case scenario, he’ll get the hint I’m not interested, and I won’t hear from him again.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “I better go. School will be letting out soon.”
“You’re going to see Tim?”
Alice nodded. She breathed deep and released it slowly in an attempt to settle her nervous stomach.
“Let’s pray.” Beth extended her hands, and Alice placed hers in them. Then, she bowed her head as Beth prayed. “Father, please go before Alice. Soften Tim’s heart. Break through his hurt and help him to listen, really listen, to what Alice has to say. And please give her the words.”
“Amen. Thanks, Beth.”
“Love you, girl.” She gave Alice a sideways hug.
Alice hugged her back, incredibly grateful to have such a special friend. She’d stuck by Alice through so much, even when Alice had continually pushed her away. Alice intended to show Tim—both her boys—that same kind of love.
“Everything’s going to work out. I believe that with every fiber of my being.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Walking to her car, she considered Beth’s words—the conviction behind them—wishing she shared her unshakable faith. If only she’d gotten help, for her and Trent, before everything fell apart. But God had resurrected a dead man and turned a murderer into the world’s greatest evangelist. Surely He could restore her relationship with her son.
And her husband? The question came unbidden, jolting her. Stirring her heart with hope, but she quickly squelched it. She’d made her decision the moment she packed her bags. And Trent had made his the moment he . . . what, slipped in to addiction?
How could she feel compassion and hatred toward him at the same time?
Regardless, she ha
d other things to worry about, like reconnecting with Timmy.
By the time she reached the school, students were already spilling out of the building and streaming through the parking lot. Alice drove directly to the back, where the locker room opened to the football field. Then, after a quick prayer for guidance, she got out of her vehicle and strode across the lot. She lingered near the doorway, watching for Tim among the exiting football players.
Danny loped out drinking from a sports bottle. Upon seeing her, he sauntered over. “Hey.” He frowned, as if waiting for bad news. “What’s up?”
“I’m here to see Tim.”
“Oh.” He stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled. “Got to go. See you later.”
“Come home hungry. I’ve got a batch of cheesy chili in the crock-pot.” One of his favorites.
“Nice.” He rubbed his stomach and jogged off, catching up with a tall red head with man-sized shoulders.
Tim emerged not long after, talking with one of the assistant coaches. The coach saw her first, nodded a greeting, then nudged Tim. He scowled, and the coach nudged him again.
“Go on, boy. Show some respect.”
Tim rolled his eyes and marched over, crossed his arms. “What?”
“I miss you.”
He continued to look at her.
“I wish . . . Can we talk? Please. Just for a minute?”
He eyed her a moment longer, glanced behind him. “Whatever.” He followed her to a raised brick barrier enclosing a tree, where the two sat.
She didn’t know where to start, what to say. “I really messed up, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. That I let things get as bad as they did. That wasn’t fair.”
He blinked and dropped his shoulders.
She placed her hand on his, relieved when he didn’t pull away. “I love you, Tim. I’ll always love you. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. To . . . to . . . to make things right.”
Staring at the ground, he cracked his knuckles one finger at a time. And while he did, Alice prayed. And held her breath.
“Can we meet for dinner?” she said.
When he lifted his gaze, the hardness in his eyes replaced by vulnerability and pain, and it took all her self-control not to pull him close and hold him tight. But that’d only push him further away.
He nodded. “I’ll call you.”
She released the breath she’d been holding. “I’d like that.”
Thank You, Jesus.
Though they still had a long way to go, and Tim had a lot of healing to come, it was a start.
That Saturday, Alice cleaned up after breakfast and checked the windows and door were locked. It’d become a new habit. As had making frequent scans of the street. So far, no signs of Austin.
She needed to check on Gertrude as well. Closing the blinds, she turned to watch her son. He sat on the couch, sifting through an opened box of photo albums.
“What do you got there?” She sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and spread his baby book between them. “Wow, I haven’t looked at this in forever.” Flipping it open, she giggled at a picture of Danny covered in chocolate cake. Thick globs of frosting clung to his hair and dark streaks covered his round belly.
“I bet you don’t remember that party, do you?” It was his second birthday, and Alice and Trent went all out. Balloons everywhere, crepe paper strung all over the place. They’d even hired a juggling clown.
“Nope. But I do remember one with some sort of tunnel and a fat bear in a red T-shirt. He totally weirded me out. It was so confusing. I couldn’t figure out what was going on.”
Alice laughed. “I remember that one, too. We spent so much money.” She ruffled his hair. “You spent the afternoon under the table. Didn’t come out until the giant bear and his tickle tunnel left.”
She turned the page to a picture of Tim and Danny playing in the sprinkler. Questions about Tim swelled to her tongue, but she held them back. Instead, she offered a silent prayer and flipped the page. The next picture pricked her heart. Trent sat on the loveseat with both boys in his arms. Danny stared up at him with rosy, smile-bunched cheeks while Tim leaned against Trent’s chest.
She studied her son. The pain in his eyes magnified her own. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Forcing a smile, she snapped the album shut and stood. “What do you say we see about getting ourselves some of Gertrude’s fresh squeezed lemonade?”
“I guess.”
He followed her out the door and toward the gravel path.
“I bet she’s got a couple of chocolate chip cookies for us.” She rounded the corner and blinked. Trent. He stopped in mid-step and stood, eyes bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. He held papers in his hand. The court documents she’d asked Melba to deliver?
She took half a step backwards. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t do this, Alice.” His voice trembled. “Give me another chance. I’m sober. I’ve stopped gambling.”
“It’s too late for that. After all you’ve done.” Hands fisted, she shook her head. “It’s over, Trent. I’ve got a new life now.”
“We can work through this.”
“I’m done playing that game. Held on to your empty promises for far too long, but not anymore.”
She spun around, her gaze landing on a wide-eyed Danny.
“Sweetie—” She reached for him.
Hands raised in front of him, he shook her hand away and ran for the apartment.
Alice turned back to Trent. “I want you to leave. Now.”
He dropped the documents on the ground. “I’m not signing, Alice.”
She grabbed the papers and shoved them into his chest. “For once in your pathetic life, do the right thing.” She spun around and marched off.
Trent collapsed onto the ground, the gravel cutting into his hands and knees as Alice walked away. His heart cried out to God, but the words wouldn’t come.
He grabbed the court documents, struggled to stand, and swiped at his eyes.
It hurt to breathe. Alice’s words replayed again and again like a slow-motion movie. His last glimmer of hope had been shattered. It was over. He’d lost her. His sweet Alice.
Memories flashed through his mind: of their wedding day, and how radiant she’d looked in her white gown. Of countless nights spent on the dance floor, him singing softly in her ear. Of her as a young mom, their boys nestled, one under each arm, her with a peaceful, contented smile. And then the day when he came home to find her and her things gone.
I’ve lost it all, everything that matters. Now what? Where do I go from here, Lord?
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full . . . The thief comes to kill and destroy. To kill and destroy. To kill and destroy.”
CHAPTER 47
Alice watched Danny eat his cereal with a heavy heart. Things had been strained since Trent’s visit. She hated Trent for that. And she hated him even more for the way her heart squeezed when she thought of him and his promise to change.
He said he was done with the drinking and gambling. What if it were true? What if she believed him, and his sobriety didn’t last?
She touched Danny’s shoulder. “You want to go out for ice cream?”
He stirred his cereal. “Not really.”
“It’s a beautiful day. How about we go to Seward Park? I’ll pack some jerky and granola.”
“I don’t feel like hiking.”
She sat in the chair across from him. “I know this is hard on you, and I’m sorry.”
He glared. “He said he’s sober. Why won’t you give him another chance?”
“Sweetie, it’s not that simple.” How could she help him comprehend addiction? Most likely he was thinking of Tim. How could she explain to him the difference between walking out on an alcoholic husband and turning your back on an alcoholic son?
Love always hopes. The words flowed through her mind so
ftly, gently.
What are You saying, Lord?
To Danny, she said, “I know this is hard for you to understand, but your dad is sick.”
He slammed his fist on the table, making her jump. “But he’s better. You heard him!”
“I know what he said, Danny, but it—” won’t last. It never does.
The phone rang. She snatched it up and glanced at Beth’s number displayed on the screen. “Hello?”
“Is everything all right? You sound so . . . on edge.”
Alice breathed deep and let it out slowly. “I’m fine. How are you?” She continued to watch Danny.
“I called to invite you to a prayer meeting. Well, not a meeting really, more like a prayer . . . experience.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve got a bunch of stations set up at the church—music, candles. It’ll be great. A time to be refreshed by the love of Christ.”
She started to decline, then stopped. Maybe some time with Beth and the other Bible study girls would do her some good. She could use the support. “That sounds great. What time?”
“I’ll pick you up in a few.”
Ending the call, she turned to Danny. “I’m going to go to a prayer meeting with Beth. Will you be all right?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug.
“I won’t be long. And I’ll have my cell phone.” She froze and glanced out the window. “Lock the door after I leave, OK? Don’t answer it, no matter what. And keep the pepper spray close by. You know where it is, right?” She’d purchased two canisters, one for home and one for her purse.
“Why? That guy from the other day?”
She nodded. “Yes. I doubt there’ll be a problem, but it’ll make me feel better to know you’re locked in.”
“Like a prison, huh?” He gave a crooked smile.
“Something like that.” She ruffled his hair.
Twenty minutes later, Beth stood at her door with a plate of muffins, beaming.
“What’s this?”
Beth pushed past her and set the food on the table in front of Danny. She nudged his shoulder. “Hey you.”
He gave her a stale smile, then lowered his eyes again.
Breaking Free Page 26