by Irene Brand
The week before the women’s retreat flew by with little time for Aimee to worry about her daughter. Samantha seemed less sullen, though, and her math grade was better. She didn’t even seem to mind too much that Aimee was leaving for the weekend, although that could be because Samantha knew it would keep her away from Jacob.
Erica and Aimee took Friday off from work for final preparations and left midmorning for the three-hour drive to Camp Serenity. Aimee’s parents intended to pick up Samantha and Madison after school and take them to the farm, so Aimee was free to relax and enjoy the retreat.
They drove Aimee’s car but shared the driving on the hundred-mile trip into the mountainous region where the camp was located.
They were assigned to the third floor of a dormitory, and by the time she lugged all of her luggage up the two flights of stairs, Aimee wished she had packed fewer clothes. She hadn’t been camping since she was a teenager, and she’d forgotten that the atmosphere was laid-back and that jeans and shirts were more practical than some of the dressier stuff she’d packed.
When they finally settled into an austere room with four bunk beds, a closet without a door and two folding chairs, Aimee looked out the window at the awesome view.
“Oh, my,” she gasped. “If I don’t see or hear anything else, that view is worth the trip. We lucked out on a room.”
Although the windowpanes were flyspecked and streaked, she could see the mountains, where blooming dogwood and redbud added a splash of white and fuchsia among the pine trees and cedars. In a meadow at the foot of the mountains, two deer grazed.
“The scenery is beautiful,” Erica agreed. “Other times when I’ve been here, I skipped some of the sessions and wandered off alone. I had planned to take you on a nature hike before dinner, but I’m winded. Let’s rest a while.”
“I’ve wondered about our cabinmates. I hope we get along.”
Erica climbed the few steps to an upper bunk and stretched out on her back. “Taking potluck with roommates can be iffy sometimes, but there’s little risk at a church conference. I’m sure we’ll have a good time.”
Aimee continued to enjoy the scene before her for several minutes before she unpacked her suitcase and hung a few things in the closet. Noticing that there were only two hangers, and those were bent and rusty, she commented, “I see why you told me to bring my own hangers.”
“Yeah. We won’t have any luxuries, only a place to sleep and eat. But it’s good for us to rough it for a few days. Have you tried your bunk?”
“No. Why?”
“This bed feels like a block of concrete.” Erica squirmed uncomfortably before adding, “But I can stand it for one weekend.”
“I didn’t expect to have top-notch accommodations but I figure I will miss my comfortable bed. Oh, that must be one of our roommates coming,” Aimee said as footsteps sounded in the hallway.
A woman with dark, snappy eyes and a regal way of carrying herself entered the room. Her straight dark hair was shoulder length, and she appeared to be at least six feet tall.
“I’m your roomie,” she said as she surveyed the space. “Lori Alexander.”
Aimee moved toward her and took her outstretched hand. “Glad to meet you, Lori. I’m Aimee Blake, and this is my friend, Erica Snyder.”
“We were wondering who our roommates would be,” Erica said as she sat up in the bunk and waved to Lori.
“I’m it,” Lori said as she put down her suitcase and draped her garment bag over the edge of the bunk. “There will be only the three of us. My sister planned to attend, but she had to cancel this morning. We live in Alexandria.”
“We’re from Benton,” Aimee said.
Surprise spread across Lori’s face. “Well, well, it is a small world. I lived in Benton until I was twenty. I graduated from Paramount High School. In fact, I’m planning to come to Benton for the bicentennial.”
“You and several thousand others,” Erica said. “A lot of plans are being made.”
“I’ve lived in Benton most of my life, but I graduated from East High, rather than Paramount,” Aimee said, “so I didn’t go to school with you.”
“I didn’t move to Benton until after I was out of high school,” Erica said, “so I wasn’t in school with either of you.”
“We’ll soon get acquainted. This is going to be a fun weekend,” Lori exclaimed. “I haven’t been back to my hometown since my family moved. You’ll have to tell me what’s happened in Benton since I left.”
The sound of laughing, talking and merrymaking in general sounded throughout the building, and Erica groaned. “Besides having to climb the steps, there’s a disadvantage to living on the top floor,” she said. “All the noise comes up the stairs, and there will be about fifty women in this building—some of them talking and laughing all night. Don’t expect to get much sleep.”
Aimee glanced at her watch. “It’s only forty-five minutes until dinner.”
“That will give me time for a shower,” Lori said. She put her suitcase on the floor at the foot of her bunk, opened it and took out a cosmetics case. “If I’m not finished by the time you want to go, don’t wait for me. We’ll meet up later.” She headed down the hall to the shower room.
“Nice lady,” Aimee commented.
“Yes, she is. This is the first time I’ve met her, but I’ve heard of her. She’s a great vocalist. I’m pretty sure I saw her name on the program for special music.”
After dinner, Aimee and Erica moved to the large auditorium, with seating for three hundred, but since the enrollment of the conference was considerably less than that, everyone was asked to sit near the platform in a compact group. The subject of Pam Baker, the featured speaker, was Focus on the Future—not the Past.
Aimee found it difficult to guess Pam’s age, but she had a sprinkling of gray in her dark hair and Aimee judged that she was in her late forties. Of average height, she had high cheekbones, large hazel eyes in a tanned complexion and an uptilted nose, on which was perched a pair of reading glasses. She had a warm, friendly smile.
She was the author of several books on spiritual growth, and after her first presentation, an announcement was made that her books would be for sale throughout the conference. Pam would also be available for fifteen-minute counseling sessions with any conferee interested in speaking to her privately.
Although Aimee had never felt free to discuss her past marital difficulties with anyone, she sensed that she could talk to Pam without embarrassment. For one thing, she would probably never see the woman again, so she wouldn’t mind sharing her inadequacies. She signed up for a conference, and long after Erica and Lori had gone to sleep, Aimee lay awake, wondering what effect Pam’s words might have on her relationship with Jacob.
Aimee met Pam the next morning in a small room adjacent to the chapel. One wall was covered with a pastoral mural featuring a group of children playing in a field of flowers. There was no window in the room, and it seemed to Aimee that she and Pam were in a world of their own, free from outside distractions.
Seated opposite each other, with a small table between them, Pam said, “Let’s pray first, Aimee.”
Covering Aimee’s folded hands with her own, Pam prayed, “Our Father, this is my first meeting with Aimee, but I feel a bond between us already. Only You can meet her needs, but I pray that You will use me as an instrument to help her. In the precious name of Your Son, I pray. Amen.”
Pam released Aimee’s hands. “Now, tell me about yourself.”
“I’ve been a widow for almost fourteen years, and I have a fourteen-year-old daughter, Samantha.”
Aimee’s voice must have mellowed when she mentioned her daughter’s name, for Pam smiled. “The love of your life!”
“Yes, very much so. My husband died suddenly of an aneurysm when Samantha was a baby, so it’s just been the two of us,” Aimee explained. “She doesn’t remember her father.”
“I’m a widow, too, so I can empathize with you. Go on.”
Aime
e quickly relayed her concern of the past few months when Samantha had become rebellious, more inclined to spend time with her friends and confide in them rather than her mother.
“That’s to be expected,” Pam said. “It’s all a part of growing up. Both of my children have graduated from college and are on their own, but when my son was in his teens, we went head to head most of the time. By the grace of God, he’s now a levelheaded young man, but I often wondered if that day would ever come. Tell me how you’ve handled this situation?”
Conscious that she only had fifteen minutes, Aimee quickly admitted that she’d spoiled her daughter, then explained the tough love she’d been trying now as a means to train Samantha for adulthood.
Pam nodded approvingly as Aimee talked. “Which brings me to another question—how is your spiritual life?”
“Improving now, but I’ve been a wayward Christian for several years. While trying to juggle my job and taking care of Samantha, I stopped going to church. I regret that.”
“We can never change the past, only look to the future. It seems to me that you’re on the right course with your daughter. You’ve set down some ground rules, you’ve returned to your faith and you’re studying the Bible. I would encourage Samantha to go to church with you—just as she expects you to take her to cheerleading and other activities. She needs to get to know the Lord before she heads out on her own.”
Pam looked at her watch. “We still have a few minutes before my next appointment. I sense that you have other concerns.”
Aimee bowed her head and closed her eyes, praying for the right words to explain her situation. “I’ve carried a load of guilt since Steve died because I wasn’t the kind of wife I should have been. I was eighteen when we married, and I got pregnant right away and had a lot of morning sickness. I was trying to become a homemaker, as well as a wife and mother, and I feel that I neglected Steve’s needs.”
Aimee swallowed hard and her voice drifted into a whisper. “My thoughts were all on myself and what I wanted. After our daughter was born, I couldn’t bear the thought of intimate relations, so I slept in the nursery with Samantha. I’ve always felt guilty about neglecting Steve. I forget about it occasionally, but something always happens to remind me.”
“And what happened this time to remind you?” Pam asked.
Aimee sat in the chair, her fingers clenched in her lap. She bit her lower lip, but finally drew a sharp breath. “Recently, I’ve met a man, the first one who’s interested me since Steve’s death. I don’t know that anything will ever develop between us, but if it should, I don’t want to fail him, too. He’s trying to deal with his own past. If we should marry and I can’t be the kind of wife I should be, it would be an added emotional blow to him.”
“I wouldn’t dwell too much on that situation,” Pam said, understanding gleaming in her expressive eyes. “If you had ever shared your feelings with other women, you might find that it’s pretty common after birth to avoid intimacy.”
Pam’s unexpected response confused Aimee, and she said, “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“After all, you were still young, and becoming pregnant and having a newborn is an emotional stress on any marriage,” Pam said, and her voice was kind and reassuring. “Your husband was also young and perhaps stressed with the responsibilities of supporting a family. He probably understood your reluctance.”
“Well, you’ve given me something new to consider,” Aimee said and, knowing that her time was up, she stood. She shook hands with Pam. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. I feel much freer since I have discussed the situation with you.”
“Always trust your concerns to God,” Pam advised. “He always understands.”
After her time with Pam, Aimee walked alone to the shore of the lake, and in spite of the cool breeze, she sat on a bench and looked out over the shimmering water. There was no one near, and she prayed aloud, “Father, release me from the guilt that’s hindered me for years. As I look back over the past, I don’t believe Steve was unhappy with the situation between us. Maybe he understood my physical and emotional problems, or he probably would have been more demanding.”
She could almost feel the burden she’d carried for years leaving her heart. She felt cleansed, ready to use the mistakes of the past to become a better wife if she and Jacob ever had a future together.
Wanting to hear his voice, she checked her watch. He might be in the Siblings office at this hour, but wherever he was, he would probably answer his cell phone. She dialed his number, and he answered on the third ring.
“Aimee?” he asked quickly. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, more than all right,” she said. “I’m sitting on the bank of the lake, looking out over a breathtaking mountain vista. I’ve been praying. I thought about you and decided to catch you if I could. Have you been to this camp?”
“A few times, but not since I was a boy. It’s a great place and probably even better than when I camped there.”
“The accommodations probably haven’t changed since you were here,” she said, laughing. “I didn’t sleep much last night and missed my comfortable bed, but Erica says that’s all part of a retreat.”
“But you are having a good experience?” he asked.
“Yes, I am. The other women are warm and friendly. I’ve made lots of new friends, and the speaker is terrific. I had a short session with her this morning. I feel almost free.”
“That’s great,” Jacob said. “I’ll miss you at church tomorrow.”
“I’d like to see you, too, but I’m glad I came here,” Aimee told him. “I’m convinced that this retreat marks a turning point in my life, for I’m coming to terms with the past.”
“I’m so glad! Give me a call when you get home.”
“I will. We’ll leave here tomorrow morning. Bye, Jacob.”
Aimee remained at the lakeside for another half hour. Now that she no longer felt any guilt about her life with Steve, what else stood in the way of a deeper relationship with Jacob? Samantha’s attitude was her biggest problem now. But what about Jacob? Although he’d shared his fear of rejection with her, why did she sense that it went much deeper than he’d let on?
Chapter Eleven
During the final session of the conference, most of the women, including Erica and Aimee, went forward to kneel and pray for renewal in their lives. Reluctant to leave the close fellowship they’d enjoyed over the weekend, Aimee and her roommates walked slowly back to the dormitory. Renewed in her spiritual walk, Aimee was eager to put what she’d experienced into her everyday situations.
When they were ready for bed, Aimee sat on a chair to file her nails. Erica lounged on the top bunk, eating an apple. Lori, sitting on her bunk, was brushing her long black hair. Aimee noticed that she was quieter, more serious than usual. She assumed that Lori, too, was thinking about the spiritual effect the conference had had on her life until Lori spoke hesitantly.
“Sisters, I’ve wanted to ask you something ever since you told me you were from Benton. I’m not one to gossip, but I’d like to have closure on something that has weighed on my mind for years. I’m speaking of an event that happened in Benton when I was living there.”
Erica slashed a quick look toward Aimee. “As I told you, I wasn’t living in Benton during those years,” she said, “but you’ve made me curious. Go ahead.”
“This might come across as gossip, but I’ve been sincerely concerned about the young man involved, and I’ve prayed for him over the years. I’d like to know what happened to him. Do you know a Jacob Mallory?”
Again Erica and Aimee exchanged quick glances, and the peaceful feeling that had infiltrated Aimee’s heart and mind during the weekend fled. She was suddenly tongue-tied and waited for Erica to answer.
“I’ve known Jacob for several years,” Erica said. “He attends the church we do, and he and I belong to the same singles group. He’s the owner of a successful counseling service, and is well thought of in town.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” Lori said sincerely.
“Well, go on,” Erica said impatiently. “Why did you ask? Don’t keep us in suspense.”
Aimee wondered at Lori’s manner—both anticipating and dreading to hear what concerned her. “So he’s never married?” she asked.
“Not as far as I know,” Erica said.
Seemingly groping for the right words, Lori said, “What about Megan Russell? Do you know her?”
Erica shook her head.
“I don’t,” Aimee said shortly, wishing Lori would stop asking questions and tell them what she knew. Still, Aimee had a hunch that she wasn’t going to like what she heard. A wave of apprehension coursed through her body, and she watched her roommate anxiously, waiting for her to continue.
Lori took a deep breath, and said, “Well, here goes. Megan and Jacob attended the same high school I did. They dated steadily through high school. In her senior year, Megan got pregnant.”
Aimee couldn’t prevent the gasp that escaped her lips, and she assumed that her expression betrayed the shock Lori’s words had caused. Lori looked at her curiously, but Aimee waved her hand for her to continue.
“Everybody thought Jacob was the father, but he flatly denied it and broke up with Megan. She hadn’t been seeing anyone except him, so people tended to think he was guilty. But from what I knew of him, I thought there was more to the situation than what the general public knew.”
Even Erica seemed shocked into silence, and in spite of her own chagrin, Aimee saw an element of humor in that fact.
Lori sighed heavily, and her expression was grim as she concluded, “I’m sure Jacob experienced a lot of shunning and ridicule before he went away to college and, and as far as I know, he didn’t come back to Benton, not even to see his grandmother. I’m surprised to hear that he’s living in Benton now.”
“From what I know of Jacob, he isn’t the kind of man to shirk his responsibility,” Aimee said quietly. “If he was the father of that child, he would have said so.”