“Okay, then…” Turning on his heel, Jack pulled out his keys and strode across the street to his SUV.
Chapter Twenty
Cynthia lay in her dark, silent room, trying to remember all the fun she’d had in her life. She wanted to die thinking about something good, something positive. Unfortunately the only memories that surfaced were those she had hoped to blot out of her mind forever.
Like remembrances of her first ex-husband…why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? That marriage had been doomed before it even began. But he’d been so insistent, and she’d been a sucker for a guy in uniform. Strange, but at her present stage in life―or stage in death―her first ex-husband seemed like a fine catch. Maybe she should have hung onto him. He had definitely been a far sight better than Bill, and he never cheated on her the way Ramon did, nor was he a cocaine addict like Luis.
Cynthia gave up on the fight and the memories assaulted her. Suddenly she was twenty-four again and married to a handsome police officer named Jack Callahan.
“You’re going to have to put something more modest on,” he said.
She’d just walked downstairs, wearing a pair of thigh-high shorts, which accentuated her long legs, and a skimpy top that laced up in the front. With platform sandals on her feet, she’d thought she looked good…sexy.
“Hey, I just had a kid six months ago, and I got my shape back. I think I deserve to show it off.”
“Yeah, but show it off to only me!” Holding their infant son, Jack traded arms. “We’re going to a picnic with a bunch of guys I work with. I don’t them gawking at my wife.”
“It’s my business if I want to get gawked at,” she argued. “You should feel proud to be seen with a woman like me.”
“You look cheap. Go change.”
The remark stung. But by that time she was growing used to his criticism. She had overheard talk about the girl that Jack once loved and it was obvious to Cynthia, as early as on her wedding day, that she wouldn’t ever measure up. But she convinced herself that she could make Jack love her. How wrong she was! Nevertheless, on this particular afternoon, she did as he told her. She changed her clothes. She selected what she thought was the ugliest outfit she owned, a plain red skirt and baggy red and white striped T-shirt. When she presented herself a second time, Jack didn’t say another word. He let her go off to the picnic looking like some frumpy old maid.
And that, she presumed, was what he wanted in a wife.
But that’s not what Cynthia wanted to be.
Months went by and things between her and Jack didn’t improve. By spring the following year they barely spoke to each other. He expected certain things from her liked cooked meals and clean laundry, and to spite him, she refused. He got angry and she, more rebellious. But what she really wanted was his love and attention. She wished Jack would tell her the same words he often told their son. “I love you.” Each afternoon when he left for his shift, he’d kiss Logan goodbye, but tossed her contemptuous glare.
Cooped up all day with only a baby to care for and afternoon soap operas for company, Cynthia grew restless and depressed. She felt as though she were wasting the best years of her life on a man who didn’t love or appreciate her. What’s more her meddling mother-in-law frequently stopped over to straighten up the house, cook, and wash clothes. Mother Callahan liked to open her Bible and preach, which only aggravated Cynthia all the more.
So she began doing errands―anything, just to get out of the house. Known as “Roxi” back then, a shorter version of her middle name, Roxanne―and the stage name she had selected upon leaving home―Cynthia dreamed up a list of tasks that took hours to accomplish. One of those tasks took her into downtown Chicago where she ran into her former boss. He was looking for dancers to perform at his nightclub. She jumped at the chance, although she knew Jack, with his old fashioned, overbearing ideas, wouldn’t allow it. For that reason, she lied to his mother, saying she’d joined a ladies’ club that participated in all kinds of charitable deeds and would she babysit three nights a week while Jack worked?
Mother Callahan agreed, and Jack didn’t seem to care if she belonged to a ladies club. He said it might even be good for her to do something nice for other people for a change. Cynthia had chafed beneath his snide remark, and it only fueled her desire to get back into dancing.
For the next few months, life was fun and exciting. Performing in front of men who enjoyed her curvy figure was a sure-cure for her depression. It increased her self-confidence, her self-worth. She made good money and began to fantasize about packing up her baby and escaping from her domineering husband.
Then one night a ritzy-looking gentleman told her he was visiting Chicago and that he was lonely. He offered to pay her for a private dance performance and when he waved five hundred dollars under her nose, Cynthia accepted. Little did she know the gent was an undercover cop. Shortly thereafter, she was arrested for prostitution.
Her boss posted bail, and Cynthia went home. The very next day she worked on renting an apartment in Chicago. Her plan was to leave Jack and file for divorce before he discovered her secret occupation and the trouble she’d gotten into. She wouldn’t risk facing his wrath. However, he was quicker to find out than she was to move out. The best she could figure was that someone in the Chicago precinct recognized her last name or her address and informed Jack. Oddly enough, he didn’t scream and yell. He didn’t curse her out. He didn’t harm her physically. Instead, he listened to her confession with a surprisingly tolerant ear.
At long last, he said, “You want a divorce? Go for it. But you can’t have Logan. And if you try to take him, I’ll have every cop in this state hunting you down and you’ll spend the ‘best part of your life,’ as you described it, in jail. I will personally make sure of it. Understand?”
She did. She also knew it wasn’t an idle threat. Jack had enough connections with lawyers, district attorneys and judges to destroy her life if she defied him. But how could she leave her baby boy?
Cynthia tried to stay for Logan’s sake, but Jack was a silent ogre who threw menacing glances at her whenever their paths crossed. And each time she left the house, even to take her baby for a stroll, she felt as though she were being watched. After hearing a click-click when she’d placed a call to her boss, she decided the phone line was being tapped. Her paranoia increased, and soon she imagined that Jack wanted to kill her. He was just biding his time. Waiting to make his move―just like the dude on the afternoon daytime drama she watched. Every thump and creak in the house became terrifying and Cynthia never felt so helpless and alone in all her life.
Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore and one hot summer afternoon she put Logan down for his nap and packed her belongings, including the money she had earned from her dancing. She hated the thought of leaving her son, but knew if she didn’t she would lose her very mind. Before she made her escape, however, she had crept into Logan’s bedroom. She ran her fingers down the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his silky dark brown hair for what would be the last time.
“I’ll come back for you,” she’d whispered to baby’s sleeping form. “I’ll only be gone a little while.”
Tearing herself away from the crib, she fled the house that hadn’t ever felt like a home. She figured Logan wouldn’t be alone for more than a few minutes, not with Jack’s watchdogs lurking about. She took the car and stopped at the bank, withdrawing every nickel from their joint savings and checking accounts.
Weird, she thought now as she shifted on her bed’s hard, uncomfortable mattress, but Jack never squabbled in court about the funds she’d taken. All he’d fought for was their son.
And he’d won.
The judge awarded Jack sole custody and pronounced Cynthia an unfit mother because of her prostitution conviction and for what he termed was “child abandonment.” When the gavel came down it splintered her heart. She hadn’t even been given a chance to explain.
And she never got a chance to tell her baby goodbye.
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br /> “Nurse!” she screamed. “Nurse! Nurse!”
The silence was deafening as she waited. Finally the door opened, revealing one of the snippy female CNAs that worked the night shift. “What do you need, Mrs. Matlock?”
“Pain medication,” she panted. “I…I need something to…to stop the pain!”
* * *
“Logan, I’m so happy I could burst!” Marliee’s exclamation was rewarded with his pleased smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to wait a few extra months so I can have the wedding I really want.”
“Well, you know if I had my way―”
“Yes, I know.” Marilee smiled. “But you gave me my way and I love you all the more for it.”
“I could tell it meant a lot to you.”
She smiled, sinking deeper into the car seat. “So what did you think of the restaurant? Won’t our reception be awesome in that banquet hall?”
“Sure will. I can’t believe your father actually put down twenty-five hundred bucks to rent the place. That’s an awful lot of money.”
“Not really. Not if you consider what’s included.”
“I guess you’d know.” Logan rounded a curve on the interstate. “I’ll leave the details to you. Just tell me when and where I have to show up.”
“Oh, Logan!”
“I think I’m going to start calling you Princess. But the bad news is you’re about to marry a pauper.”
“Money isn’t an issue.”
“It might be down the road.” A note of seriousness entered his voice. “I’m not going to be able to afford the lifestyle you’re used to.”
“God will provide.” Nothing could rob Marilee of her happiness at this point. “Besides, all I need and want is to be your wife.”
“Honey, that’s great for now, but what happens when the scales fall from your eyes and all you see is my dirty laundry?”
“I’ll love your dirty laundry too.” Marilee didn’t miss the endearment.
“I wish I had a tape recording of this. I’d play it back to you in the years to come.”
Marilee shook her head, feeling sure that her love for Logan will only be deeper by then.
“Think about it, Marilee. I’ve told you how much I make a year. It’s probably the same amount your folks are going to spend on our wedding. One day verses a year of my paychecks.”
“It’s not the same. Mom and Dad have planned and saved for this day.”
The intermittent glow of the streetlamps illuminated the gravity etched into Logan’s features. “There’s a good chance we won’t be able to do the same for our kids, should God bless us with children.”
“That might be true, but we’ll still give our daughter the best wedding day possible, won’t we?
“Of course. A ceremony and reception afterwards. What more is there, really?”
“I can’t believe you don’t understand. There’s a lot more.”
Logan didn’t reply and Marilee forced herself not to fume. Men just didn’t understand that a woman’s wedding day was the most important day of her life―next to her salvation day and the birth of her children.
“I just don’t want you to ever be unhappy,” he said at last. “I think that would destroy me inside.”
“Oh, Logan, you’ll never disappoint me. I promise.” Sensing his insecurities resurfacing, Marilee determined to squelch them. “Don’t you know I lost my heart to you the very first time we met? As far as I’m concerned my options are either marry you or stay single the rest of my life. There’s nobody else in this world for me. I’m convinced of it.” She paused, calculating his reaction. “Remember when Pastor Warren first introduced us?” She glimpsed his smile.
“Mm-hm. We walked into your classroom and you were at your desk correcting papers or something. School was out for the day.”
“What did you first think of me, Logan?”
“I’m embarrassed to even say.”
“What?” she persisted.
“It was sinful―or at least I thought it was at the time.”
“What do you mean? Tell me.”
An awkward, little laugh escaped him. “I kept looking at your pink lips and thoughts went through my head that a youth pastor shouldn’t have.”
“You wanted to kiss me?”
“Yeah, I did.”
The idea tickled Marilee.
“Quit laughing at me.”
“Don’t take it so hard. Your reaction is normal, don’t you think?”
“No. Not when I was under the impression that you were married.”
She inhaled sharply. “No way! Really?”
“Really. When we were on our way to your classroom, Pastor made mention of a newly married teacher and because I wasn’t paying attention, I assumed it was you. For days afterward, I didn’t want to even glance in your direction because I felt so ashamed to be attracted to another guy’s wife.”
Marilee dissolved into more giggles. “And here I thought you didn’t like me because you avoided me―and after I went out of my way so you’d notice me!”
“I noticed, all right,” he readily admitted, “and I thought it was kind of odd that we coincidentally kept running into each other. Finally, I asked somebody and found out you weren’t married.” Logan chuckled. “Man, was I relieved.”
Again, Marilee laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because this is stuff a guy only tells God…and maybe his fiancée if she pushes him hard enough.”
“Oh, I see,” she drawled. But she suddenly felt very flattered and special.
Too soon, they arrived in front of the townhouse Marilee rented and Logan walked her to the door. He didn’t dally though, much to her disappointment. Her roommates were home and Marilee had hoped to invite him in so they could talk awhile longer.
“I’ll see you tomorrow up at church.” He backed down the walkway. “Wear your comfy shoes. I want to spend most of the day recruiting for the bonfire event.”
“Okay.” Turning the lock, Marilee opened the door. “Bye, Logan. I love you.”
He smiled. “Love you, too.” He blew her a kiss and walked to his car.
He said it! Stepping inside the small entryway, Marilee closed the door and leaned her back against it. Now everything seemed perfect. Logan finally said that he loved her.
Chapter Twenty-one
Sunday dawned hot and muggy. But the heat didn’t deter Logan. The hotter the better. He stood in the hallway, knotting his tie. “So, Dad, you coming to church this morning?” He grinned, expecting a wisecrack―just like every Sunday.
“Yeah, I thought maybe I would.”
Logan froze, wide-eyed. Had he heard correctly? “You’re coming?”
“Yeah.” Jack peered out the doorway of his bedroom. “I just hope the roof doesn’t fall in on me or something.”
“Not a chance.” Logan recovered. “God’s angels are rejoicing right now.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Logan could barely believe what was happening. He’d prayed long and hard for this moment ever since his last year of high school.
Returning to his room, Logan finished dressing. Minutes later, he met his dad in the kitchen.
“Nice tie. Can I borrow it sometime?”
“Sure.” Dad sipped his coffee. “You just can’t spill on it.”
“You’ll never let me live that one down, will you?” Logan shook his head at the memory and chuckled. “I was sixteen years old the last time I spilled on one of your ties.”
Jack grinned. Finishing his coffee, he set his cup in the sink. “Doesn’t seem to make sense to take two vehicles to church. So whose car are we taking, yours or mine?”
“Good question.” Logan lifted the coffeepot and poured a fair amount of the steaming brew into a travel mug. “We can take yours if you’ll come to lunch with Uncle Steve, Aunt Nora and Marilee and me. But just to warn you, the Domotors will most likely come along because they’ll want to meet you.”
�
�Yeah, I suppose it’s high-time I meet your fiancée’s parents, isn’t it?”
“Better late than never,” Logan said.
“You’re the ultimate optimist, aren’t you?”
Logan shrugged.
After a bit of discussion the men decided to drive their own vehicles since Logan wasn’t sure of his afternoon plans. Dad did, however, agree to lunch.
On the way to church, Logan called Marilee from his cell phone. “You’ll never believe it. My dad’s coming to church. He’s following me right now in his Explorer.”
“Oh, Logan, that’s awesome!” Marilee cheered. “God’s answered our prayers.”
“Most definitely.” He chuckled envisioning the reactions to come. “Aunt Nora’s going to pass out when she sees him―that is, if Ronnie doesn’t go down first.”
Marilee joined in the laughter. “Do you think we could talk your dad into going out for lunch after service? I want my parents to meet him.”
“He’s already agreed to it. He wants to meet your parents too.”
“Oh, my goodness! This is quite the day.”
Logan chuckled at her loss for words, except he knew exactly how she felt. “Why is it that we expect great things from God, but when He does them, we’re shocked?
“Maybe because we lack faith. I’m humbled, Logan.”
Her soft voice and honest reply warmed his heart. “Me too. But I think I have a new challenge for the teens this week. I just love it when the Lord allows me to experience first hand the things I’m supposed to preach on.”
Marilee laughed. “You go, Logan!”
* * *
Jack walked into the large church building and forced his best smile as Logan introduced him to just about everyone they passed. It wasn’t easy to be personable with his stomach in a knot, but Jack made the effort. It had been so long since he’d stepped foot into a church with the intent to worship the Lord that he felt nervous. He kept envisioning his former pastor rounding the corner and banishing him again. But he reminded himself that Pastor Barlow was dead, gone some eight years already. Jack hadn’t even gone to the man’s funeral.
Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series) Page 22