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Breaking Free

Page 27

by Jennifer Slattery


  Beth faced Alice. “I’m gifting you with leftovers. I got so used to cooking for four, guess I overdid it.”

  Alice crossed her arms and pretended to be offended. “Are you saying I’m a pig?”

  “Only when it comes to chocolate covered cherries and caramel corn.” Laughing, she followed Alice out of the apartment.

  They walked down the path side-by-side, waving to Gertrude as they passed the porch, then climbed into Beth’s car.

  “What’s up with Danny?” Beth pulled into the street.

  Alice tucked her hair behind her ears. “Trent stopped by yesterday.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “Melba served him the papers?”

  Alice nodded.

  “How’d he take it?”

  “Not well. Neither did Danny.”

  Beth’s eyebrows shot up. “Danny was there?”

  She nodded. “He saw it all.” She sighed. “He doesn’t understand. You know how kids are, always ready to forgive and forget. But it’s not that easy.”

  “Have you tried?”

  Alice tensed. “For 19 years. And until you’ve been knee deep in your husband’s vomit or had loan sharks staking out your house, I’d suggest you keep your questions to yourself.”

  Beth frowned and turned her attention back to the road. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the drive. When they pulled into the church parking lot half an hour later, Alice wanted to storm down the street, as far away from Beth as possible. She probably would have if Gina, one of the Bible study girls, hadn’t met them in the parking lot.

  She ran to Alice and wrapped her in a hug, her thick, unruly hair smothering Alice and tickling her nose.

  Alice wiggled free.

  Pulling an arm’s length away, Gina grabbed both of her hands. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “You, too, Gina.”

  Beth started to unload boxes from the trunk and Alice put on her familiar plastic smile. “Let me help you.”

  Anything to avoid the 20 questions that were sure to come at any moment.

  Beth raised an eyebrow and moved aside to allow Alice access to a basket of lotions. She picked one up, popped the lid, and inhaled the soft scent of lavender. She snapped it shut and offered Beth a smile, determined not to let their little squabble ruin her morning.

  The three of them crossed the courtyard and carried their boxes into the Bible study room. Beth motioned for them to set everything on the counter, then shooed them away.

  “Now go on. And if you see any of the other ladies out there, tell them to hold on a few minutes. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

  Alice and Gina exchanged glances then plodded back outside. They sat at a white table in the center of the courtyard.

  “How’ve you been?” Gina asked. “Beth said you have an apartment in the Green Lake area.”

  Alice nodded. She tensed as she thought about Beth and her well-intended prayer requests. But then again, it had brought Danny home. Maybe in time, it’d do the same for Tim.

  The rest of the ladies showed up and gathered around the plastic table, chatting about shoe sales and smoothie recipes. Apparently spinach was palatable when blended with kiwi.

  “I can’t wait to see what Beth has planned.” A brunette Alice didn’t recognize looked across the courtyard to the small metal door leading to the Bible study room. “Knowing her, we’ll all leave with mascara streaking down our cheeks from bawling our eyes out.”

  Alice hoped not. Raccoon eyes weren’t her thing.

  “You got a lot to confess this week, Tessa?” Gina’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she reached into her purse. She pulled out a tube of lipstick and applied a thick layer to her lips.

  Beth poked her head out of the door and smiled. “All right, ladies, I’m ready.”

  They stood and made their way inside. The lights were dimmed and sweet smelling candles burned at various stations throughout the room. Praise music drifted from speakers on the counter.

  Beth clasped her hands in front of her. “Instructions are provided at each station. And don’t hurry. Use this time to connect with God.”

  Alice set her purse on the counter and walked over to a tall mirror. A verse was taped to the glass.

  Jeremiah 31:3, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.”

  Instructions were attached to the lace tablecloth. Look at yourself in the mirror as you read the verse. Let God’s love sweep over you. You are His child, created by His hand, created in love. You are His beloved, a precious treasure. He rejoices over you with singing. He will uphold you with His right hand.

  She closed her eyes and repeated the verse in her mind. The words penetrated her heart and settled deep in her soul.

  She moved to the next station. Small wooden crosses lay in a basket lined with linen. A metal link of chains lay beside it next to pink Post-it notes. A hammer rested on the chains and again, instructions were taped to table.

  Jesus died to set us free from bondage. John 8:32 “Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” Ask God to show you what is holding you in bondage and keeping you from fully experiencing the victorious, abundant life of a believer saved by grace. Ask God to replace the lies that have invaded your mind with truth.

  Thoughts swirled through her mind—of failure, old hurts, shattered dreams. Beneath them all, a glimmer of hope pressed forward as an old memory verse resurfaced. “I will go before you and will level the mountains; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron” (Isaiah 45:2).

  She closed her eyes. Oh, Lord Jesus, I am so sorry. Instead of turning to You, I have forged my own way, pretending like I didn’t hear Your voice. But I know Your voice. Oh, sweet Jesus, I know Your voice and I’m listening now.

  Alice moved to the next station. She gave a soft sob when she saw Beth on her knees, a towel folded by her side, a bowl of water in front of her.

  Beth touched Alice’s elbow and led her to a chair. Removing her shoes, Beth dipped Alice’s feet into the water, running a soft rag over her skin. A Bible lay open to John 13 beside her. She began to read:

  “It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.

  “The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.”

  She closed the Bible and then looked Alice in the eye. “One by one, Jesus washed each of His disciples’ feet. He scrubbed the dirt from Peter’s toes, knowing that before the night was over, Peter would deny Him three times.” She lifted Alice’s foot and squeezed the washcloth over it. Sudsy drops caressed Alice’s toes. “He kneeled in front of Thomas, already hearing his demand for proof after Christ’s resurrection. Then came Judas.”

  A lump lodged in Alice’s throat.

  “Jesus took Judas’s feet in His sinless hands, the bowl beneath turning a deep shade of brown as the filth dripped from them.”

  Alice closed her eyes as an image of her kneeling in front of Trent came to mind. This hurts, Lord. This hurts so much.

  Memories, good and painful, surfaced: Trent sitting across from her in a restaurant, candlelight reflecting in his eyes. Of him slouched in his recliner, empty beer bottles at his feet, another in his hand. Of him running behind a young Danny who was just learning to ride his bike. And of him encasing her waist with his strong hands, leaning in close, and whispering lyrics of their favorite song in her ear, promising to love her forever.

  As she’d promised him. Before the sickness of alcoholism grabbed hold of him.
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br />   “I have loved you with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with loving kindness.” God’s words poured over her.

  “I will uphold you with my mighty right hand. Do not fear.”

  Grabbing her shoes, she ran out of the room, through the courtyard, and into the parking lot. Crumbling against the brick wall, she pulled her legs to her chest and buried her face in her knees.

  CHAPTER 48

  Trent turned on his side and pulled the pillow over his head.

  Ethan banged around in the kitchen getting ready for his weekly Pike Place worship service.

  “I really think you should come.”

  Trent didn’t respond. The refrigerator swooshed open followed by clattering as Ethan fished through the shelves. After a few more clanks and bangs, footsteps shuffled across the carpet. The recliner squeaked as Ethan plopped down across from him.

  “Best way to crawl out of the mud is to help others. Nothing like seeing someone else passed out on a sheet of cardboard to keep a man sober.”

  Trent shoved the pillow aside and rolled over. He pushed himself to a sitting position. “I’m sober. What more do you want from me.”

  “You can’t stay crashed on the couch forever.”

  Trent grabbed the remote and turned on the television. “I won’t. I’ll be at work come Monday.”

  “So that’s your game plan, huh? You’re going to go to work, come home, zone out to the television like a zombie until it’s time to go to bed and do it all over again?”

  Trent changed the channel.

  Ethan stood with a huff. “If all you’ve got to live for is a nightly sitcom, your sobriety isn’t going to last.”

  Trent’s grip tightened around the remote. “I just need some space, that’s all.” A ludicrous statement, considering he was shacked out in Ethan’s living room.

  Ethan placed a hand on Trent’s shoulder. “I understand how you’re feeling. And I’ll give you space. Just be careful how far you let yourself climb back into that pit, because once those negative thoughts start spiraling, it’s near impossible to climb out.”

  Trent mumbled his assent and changed the channel again. Ethan was right, and in a week, or a month, or however long it took that jagged gash in his heart to heal, he’d listen. But right now he wanted to forget all about it. And if he couldn’t lose himself in a bottle, the television was the next best thing.

  “All right then.” Ethan sighed. “I guess I better go.” His footsteps retreated. “Don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid.”

  An extended pause. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  And then he left, leaving Trent to stare at the television screen and four blank walls.

  Nothing was on. Nothing that could crowd out his thoughts and that hateful look Alice gave him when he’d shown up at her house. Her words mocked him, cutting deep. “It’s over, Trent. I’ve got a new life now.”

  He tossed the remote onto the coffee table and stood. His muscles twitched as he paced the small apartment.

  He glanced at his wallet sitting on the counter, his heart racing, hands clammy. His car keys lay a few inches away. Cash burned in his pocket, enough for a week’s worth of drunken amnesia.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Don’t do it. For once in your pathetic life, do the right thing.

  He marched into the kitchen, threw open the cupboards, and rummaged through cereal boxes and soup cans. He slammed the doors shut. Fresh coffee brewed in the pot. He poured himself a cup and crossed to the sliding glass door. Thick, gray clouds blanketed the sky, and laundry dangling from balcony railings flapped in the wind. He walked back to the coffee table where Ethan’s journal lay tucked beneath a newspaper.

  Nothing more than a collection of unanswered prayers. He grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Ethan waited five years for what? His wife wasn’t coming back. Neither was Alice. And yet, each day the words beneath each entry were just as fervent as the day before.

  What about now, five years later? Did Ethan still ask God to restore his marriage, or had he finally given up?

  Trent turned to the last entry.

  “Holy Father, Your tender mercy amazes me. Thank You for holding Trent up last night.” Trent took in a quick breath. “Thank You for bringing him here. I’m so glad I didn’t take my life two years ago, when Tracy ended things for good, because I know, had I given in to the darkness, Trent wouldn’t be here today. Help him get through this, Father. Give him something to live for.”

  Trent closed the notebook and returned it to the table. A dull ache clogged his throat as he slid to his knees. “Oh Lord, what a mess I’ve made. I don’t deserve Alice. I don’t deserve to be a father. I’m sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me.” As he pressed his forehead against tightly folded hands, he once again thought of Reagan.

  Reagan needed him to stay sober. Kenneth needed him to stay sober. All of them down at Pike Street needed to see the top of the ladder. They needed to see someone who had made it to the other side.

  “Help me, Lord. Help me stand up under this pain.” He rose on shaky legs and plodded into the kitchen where the separation documents lay in a crumpled wad on the counter. He smoothed the sheets flat with a shaky hand.

  After 19 years, it was over. And even though it didn’t feel like it right now, God would carry him through this.

  He remembered Ethan’s words. “There’s always hope, man. In Christ, there’s always hope. But you got to want it. You got to fight for it.”

  He pressed his hands on the counter and squeezed his eyes shut. Was he a loser or a fighter?

  Clenching his jaw, he stormed out, down the hall and stairwell and to his car. Revving his engine, he peeled away from the curb and sped toward the diner.

  If that snake was there . . . Then what? Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, he slammed his other fist against it. He would not allow that sleaze to steal his wife.

  Alice poured water into the coffee maker, pressed the brew button, and set the empty carafe on the burner. She swiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and slumped against the counter. It’d been a crazy-busy morning, more than usual. But the tips were good. She’d made more in her first three hours than she normally made all day. And luckily, there’d been no sign of Austin. Hopefully that meant she was rid of him for good.

  The side door opened, and Melba walked in, smelling like smoke. “You want to take your break now?”

  Alice glanced through the dining room toward the windows and shivered, hugging herself. “I’m good.”

  “Mr. Curly still got you worried?”

  “A little.”

  “Can’t say that I blame you. Seems Mr. Wilson scared him off well enough, though.”

  Alice smiled at the memory of her red-faced boss, pointing to the door. “That he did.”

  “Well, least have a donut and rest your feet for a minute.”

  “I’ll do that.” She grabbed a glass of water then headed toward the break room, for a few moments of quiet. To think. And pray. Halfway there, her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. A local number, but she didn’t recognize it.

  Her pulse increased. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Goddard?”

  She swallowed. “Yes?”

  “This is Detective Johnson. You’ll be happy to know we’ve got your stalker in custody.”

  The air expelled from her lungs. “But how? I don’t understand.”

  “Turns out you’re not this guy’s only victim. His name’s Seth Arnold, and he’s got a record. And a house full of . . . trophies.”

  She shivered. “You mean?”

  “We’re still investigating, but there’s no doubt the guy’s a predator.”

  “OK. Thank you. Thank you, Officer.”

  And to think, she’d been in his truck. Twice. She shivered and ran her hands along her goose-pimpled arms.

  Trent’s footsteps echoed, his pulse pounding against his eardrums as
he crossed the lot. Hands fisted, his vision narrowed until everything in his peripheral turned a hazy gray.

  He threw open the diner door and searched the area, the muscles in his hands and arms twitching. Alice turned to face him, wide-eyed.

  Customers swiveled in their seats.

  He crossed the dining room and stopped less than a foot in front of Alice.

  She stepped back until she was pressed against the edge an empty table. “What are you doing here?”

  “I can’t let you go, Alice. I can’t.”

  “You’re making a scene.” She scowled.

  “I don’t care. All I care about is you. I’m not letting you go. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”

  “Come outside and we’ll talk.”

  Someone coughed and chair legs screeched against the floor.

  Lord, please give me the words. Please help her give me one more chance. He followed Alice through the diner and out onto the sidewalk. The door closed behind him, and Alice whirled around. She crossed her arms and stared at him, her eyes searching his.

  “Please. Hear me out.” A tight band constricted around his chest, making it hard to breath. Sweet Alice. Man, he loved her. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

  “That’s supposed to suddenly make everything better?”

  “No. Honestly, I don’t know how to fix this, but I want to try.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “In Christ, there’s always hope. You know that. He’ll get us through this, if we’ll just lean hard on Him.” He swallowed. “I’ve changed. I’m sober, for good. I’m going to meetings. Let me show you. Give me another chance.”

  He reached for her hand and tugged her close. She stiffened and trembled slightly. “Nineteen years, Alice. Don’t throw it all away without giving us one more chance.” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “I love you so much it hurts. Always have.” In a hushed tone, he started to sing. “Darling, if I were to lose you, you know I’d simply die.”

  He moved his hand to the small of her back, pressing her soft frame against his. His lips brushed her neck, and he inhaled the sweet vanilla of her shampoo. Pulling away, he looked into her eyes, brimming with tears. “What do you say? Can we give it another shot?”

 

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