by Sally John
Alec wiped his face with a towel. “You need to get out more, sweetheart.”
With a sigh, she straightened and leaned against the doorjamb, watching him brush his teeth. He’d change his tune when he saw what she wore beneath the hotel’s complimentary white terry cloth robe. Her new nightgown was red silk. Well, not silk. It was polyester, but just as soft as silk. He liked her in red; he liked the contrast with her black hair. She pulled the scrunchie from her hair, loosened the ponytail, and snuggled against him again, this time shoulder to shoulder.
He edged away.
Their eyes met in the mirror.
“It’s late,” he mumbled through foaming toothpaste.
“It’s only,” she glanced over her shoulder at the bedside clock’s red digital numbers, “twelve-seventeen?! Twelve—! What have you guys been doing? We finished dinner hours ago. I thought the meeting doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
He lowered his face and rinsed the toothbrush. “It doesn’t. I’ve been talking with Kevin.”
“Until midnight?”
He swept past her.
She turned. “Okay, help me out here. What is wrong with this picture? On the one hand, we have Kevin,” she held out a hand, palm up, “the podiatrist, whom I love dearly as the husband of my best friend. A guy who seldom strings more than two sentences together in a social setting.”
At the closet door, Alec pried off his loafers.
“Talking for two solid hours— Where? In the lobby? On the other hand, we have this.” She untied her robe and held it open. “A fetching wife in a fetching new, ruby red silk— extremely silk-like anyway—nightgown. The French would call it a negligé.”
His back to her, he stood at the closet, attaching his slacks to a clothes hanger.
“Alec!”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Fetching.”
“I thought so, too. Okay, Alexander,” she teased, “what gives here? Normally you would not have let me read this late. Normally you would be kissing me by now. Passionately, I might add.”
He slowly shut the closet door and rested his forehead against it.
Struck with the realization that nothing about his actions was normal, she swallowed her bantering tone. “What’s wrong?”
He blew out a loud breath and turned, leaning against the door, holding out an arm. “Come here, fetching wife of mine.” She stepped into his embrace, and he buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to tell you.”
And then she knew. “It’s Kevin.”
He straightened, placed his hands around her face, and whispered, “He’s leaving Val.”
The world stood still for just a heartbeat, and then it spun again, but Anne knew it was off-kilter, knew that from this moment on it would always be so.
“No!” she wailed. “No! They said—”
Alec pressed her head against his chest. “Oh, Annie. I’m sorry. Shh.”
“They can’t!” She pushed herself from him, crossed the small room, and sank onto the turned-down bed.
“Sweetheart, it’s not as if it’s a surprise.”
“They’re seeing a counselor!” Suddenly chilled to the bone, she wrapped the robe tightly around her.
“The counselor agreed that a trial separation could—”
“How can a Christian counselor tell them to separate?” Her voice rose, and the tears started flowing. “They’re Christians! This isn’t supposed to happen!”
“Annie.” He sat beside her, enfolding her in his arms again. “You know it happens to Christians.”
“Does Val know?”
“Yes.”
The sobs erupted. “Then why didn’t she tell me? I should be with her. Why now? Why this weekend? We’re in Chicago! On a church council retreat—”
“Shh.” He stroked her hair. “Kevin said they… They had a discussion late last night. It was their first calm one. And they reached this decision. He’s…”
She felt Alec’s intake of breath.
“He’s moving out on Sunday. Val didn’t want to ruin your weekend. Instead,” his tone grew sarcastic, “she let me do it.”
“Alec, that’s not fair.”
He sighed and tightened his arms around her. “No, it’s not fair. I don’t know what to do with this gut-wrenching emotion. And I hated passing it on to you.”
They held each other, absorbing the pain they felt for their friends. Friends who, like them, were 30-something and had three children. Who, like them, lived in Valley Oaks, attended Community Church, car pooled, and volunteered whenever necessary for anything related to the elementary, middle, and high schools. Three kids, three schools.
Finally, Anne whispered, “I can’t imagine their hurt. What can they be doing right this very minute? They don’t have anyone to hug them.” She burst into fresh sobs, envisioning Val and Kevin hugging opposite sides of a king-sized bed.
Alec tightened his hold around her until her tears slowed.
She fumbled with a tissue from the robe pocket. “What else did he say? How is she?”
“Well, apparently she’s all for this. You know Val. She’s strong, stronger in her faith than he is. She’ll get through it.”
“I thought they were making progress.”
“Kevin says no way. It’s time they stepped back and got a new perspective. They thought it’d be best to do it before Christmas.” He took a breath. “Kevin wants it before Christmas. He’ll step down from the church council. We’ve got to tell Peter. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but since he’s the pastor, I guess that’s his job. He can figure out what effect it will have on our planning session tomorrow.”
“Oh, Alec, the kids!” She plopped her head down on the pillow and pulled her knees up to her chest. They brushed against Alec as she rolled over toward the center of the bed. Her stomach ached. “Theirs and ours! It’s like a ripple effect. From their kids to our kids, from them to us, from the council members to their wives to the whole church.”
He crawled over her, pulled the covers up over both of them, and laid down facing her. “Annie, don’t internalize this.”
She looked at her husband’s face just inches from hers. His easy smile was missing, making his jaw appear a rigid square. He needed a shave. The crow’s feet were pronounced around his cinnamon eyes. “How can I not internalize this?”
He encompassed her hands in his. “I don’t know. But you can’t fix it.”
She caught her breath, struck with a new image. “What’ll we do at the basketball games? We’ve always sat together— Oh! What’ll we do for Christmas? Our families’ traditions—”
“Anne! Just take it one day at a time. Okay? Now, it’s late. We’ve got to get some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep!”
“Well, I have to. I have to be coherent tomorrow.” He kissed her forehead and rolled over. “All you have to do is shop.”
She ignored his snide comment. After 17 years of marriage, she knew this was how he grappled with uncomfortable emotions.
He rolled back over. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I love you, sweetheart.” He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. “Please try to sleep?” He rolled back again facing the windows.
Within moments his breathing eased into sleep mode. Tears still burned in her eyes, and a wave of loneliness washed over her. She reached up to turn off the lamp.
Dear Father, comfort Val tonight… And Kevin. Hold both of them close.
Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.
Early morning sunlight streamed into the hotel room. Alec sat quietly on the edge of the bed and watched his wife sleep. Her thick black hair was mussed, spread out over the pillow, as if she had tossed and turned. The tiny scar was more noticeable when she was motionless like this. It was a subtle fold in the right corner of her upper lip, the result of a dog bite when she was six years old. It wasn’t discolored. It simply made the smile of her wide mouth a little…quirky.
Should he wake her or not? She
probably hadn’t slept much. He mulled over the consequences. They wouldn’t be alone again until late that night when they arrived home. He reminded himself that they were each other’s best friend. Sleep was secondary to the comfort she would need when she first awoke.
He pushed strands of hair from her face. Her eyes would be dark today. Lack of sleep and this trauma would widen the black that rimmed the smoky gray, leaving only a trace of the lighter color showing. Annie didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve, but it was right there in her eyes for anyone who dared to look close enough.
He noticed red silk poking out from under the covers and felt a twinge of disappointment, but he couldn’t help smiling. How she could feel romantic was beyond his comprehension! Most of this 24-hour trip was spent with seven other couples. They were there for a mini-retreat, not an intimate getaway. As far as he was concerned, they could have doubled up on the rooms, put the women in a couple, the men in others, saved some money.
After arriving late Friday afternoon and checking into the hotel, the entire group had met for dinner. Today the wives would shop. The men—all members of the church council— would meet with Pastor Peter for an extended time of prayer and Bible study, followed by lunch and a business session. Relating with his wife wasn’t on the schedule of events.
Not so with Anne, but that was just her way, grabbing the moment and wringing everything she could from it. In their short time away, she would catch up in detail on the lives of seven women, luxuriate in the hotel’s bathtub, read an entire novel, finish the year’s Christmas shopping, and wear red silk to please her husband.
He tapped the tip of her turned-up nose. “Hey, sweetheart. You want to wake up?”
“Hmm?” She peered at him and smiled. “Hey, mister.”
He gave her a gentle smile, waiting for the memory of last night’s news to register.
It didn’t take long. A tear slid out before her eyes were fully open. Her lower lip trembled. “Oh, Alec.”
“Why don’t you call Val? Have her come over for a room service breakfast before you all go shopping. Our treat. You two can emote for a couple of hours before heading out.”
“What time is it?”
He glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s 6:20. We’re meeting for breakfast at 6:30. I’d better go now, try to corner Peter, clue him in on the situation.” He kissed her. “I’m sorry I have to leave you like this.”
“I know.”
“Hug Val for me.”
She grabbed his arm. “Alec, you wouldn’t leave me, would you?”
“Of course not. Anne, you’re internalizing. This is them, not us.”
“But why them and not us?”
“Because…” He stared at her a moment. “There’s no simple answer.”
“But I think we need an answer.”
He stood up. “Because you’re a fantastic cook and look great in red.”
She blinked. There was no gray showing in her dark eyes.
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s good enough for me.” He smiled and went to the door. “I’m easy.”
“That’s all you want from me?”
“Annie, I love you. If you love me, that’s all I need. I gotta go. See you at four.”
Waiting in the hall for the elevator to reach the nineteenth floor, Alec gazed through a window at the Chicago skyline and pondered Anne’s last question. Was that all he wanted from her?
He’d never thought about it. He had wondered at times, when he wearied of the treadmill, if this was all there was. Wife, kids, mortgage, church, school activities, family vacations, work. Evidently Kevin didn’t think so.
For a moment he imagined chucking it all. What would he do? He drew a blank. He couldn’t think of serious discontentment on any front. He liked all three of his kids. He liked living in his small hometown. He liked being on the church council. He even liked his job. And his wife? Not only did he love her, he liked her!
The status quo was about as perfect as a guy could ask for.
Four
Best friends since the fifth grade, Anne and Val didn’t need words to arrive at the heart of the matter. They simply burst into tears and hugged.
Now they sat in Anne’s hotel room, chairs turned to face the large window overlooking the Chicago River. To the far right, sunlight danced on Lake Michigan. They sipped coffee, disinterested in the basket of muffins and croissants on the table between them.
Over the past year, Anne had been privy to deteriorating events in her friend’s marriage. She sensed that rather than a rehash of those events, a shoulder was best for the moment. Still, it seemed a sudden decision to separate. She ventured a question. “Val, why didn’t I notice anything at dinner last night?”
Scrunched in her armchair, feet propped on the wide windowsill, face half hidden behind her mass of chin-length, dark natural curls, Val shrugged. “I didn’t want you to.”
“The curse of the healthy glow.”
Her friend chuckled, a sound without humor. She was an aerobics instructor and fitness devotee, compactly built and shorter than Anne’s 5' 9" by four inches. Her physical features exuded an air of confidence, even now. “Celeste noticed something.”
Celeste was their friend and their pastor’s wife. “We all know Celeste has a direct hot line to the supernatural. Not even our lifelong friendship can compete with that. What did you tell her?”
“That I’m tired. Which is the truth.”
“Why did you two come?”
She blinked and looked toward the window. “Kevin’s sense of duty and honor.”
Anne choked on coffee and pressed a linen napkin to her mouth.
“I know. Go figure. But that was it. The weekend was already planned, and he didn’t want to leave the council hanging. He felt he should explain in person, resign in person, and not just see Peter privately and dump it in his lap.”
“Thoughtful.”
“Uh-huh.”
Anne felt heat bubbling in her chest. Her throat constricted.
“Annie-banannie.” Puffy eyelids shrouded Val’s bluegreen eyes. “Promise you’ll keep me from charging an extraordinary amount of money today?”
“Val, we always charge an extraordinary amount on this day. It’s tradition! But we’ve saved for it and do most of our Christmas shopping and get the kids winter coats—”
“No. I’m talking a nasty, abhorrent, shameful amount of money.” She bit her lower lip. “I know revenge is God’s department. I know we can’t afford it, especially now, but there is this voice inside that keeps telling me to punch Kevin where it hurts. And at the moment that voice is screaming to spend money like it grows on trees. So promise me. I’m counting on you.”
Coffee churned in Anne’s otherwise empty stomach. Oh, Lord. “How about if I just help you spend it?”
Val’s mouth fell open.
“You know you could use a new dress for Christmas. Let’s actually buy something at Saks—”
“Anne! I’m serious!”
“And while we’re into splurging, let’s not forget about eating. You are not passing up desserts today, nor snacks of fudge and ice cream. Nor caffeine breaks. It’s only lattés with extra dollops of whipped cream for you.”
The corner of Val’s mouth lifted.
“Mission accomplished.” Anne smiled. “We can always mail things back. And you’ll only need one day in aerobics class to work off the extra calories. Okay?”
“Okay.”
While Val stepped into the bathroom to wash her face, Anne studied the tabletop. Lord, we need Your grace for this day. Moment by moment. Please!
The hotel logo caught her eye. It was stamped in gold calligraphy on the room service receipt. The Renaissance.
Renaissance. Now that’s ironic. I think we’re into a death here, Father. What’s with this rebirth business?
She thought of the day that stretched before them. Celeste would catch a nuance, a vibe. They would have to tell her. She needed to know, and she should hear it from them, no
t late tonight from Peter. Anne imagined Celeste’s reaction to the news. How would she pray? She was the pastor’s wife and, although close in age to Anne, possessed a faith usually found only in women twice her age. Respect for her had grown by leaps and bounds during her five years at Valley Oaks Community Church.
Celeste would immediately bring Jesus into focus. She would say He died, and there was rebirth in that death for everyone.
Tears sprang to Anne’s eyes. Jesus, how in the world are we to expect a rebirth in this nightmare?
Anne loved the old farmhouse she and Alec had moved into ten years ago and spent nine renovating. The white twostory sat on Acorn Park Lane at the end of a long front yard at the edge of Valley Oaks. Fourth Avenue ran along the west side, turning at this point into a little-used, graveled country lane. Bordering their property were fields owned and tilled by a farmer who lived elsewhere in the county.
A red barn stood in the backyard and housed the overflow from the single-car, unattached garage. Three children accumulated a lot of bicycles and sporting equipment. The minivan and riding lawn tractor were parked in it. Their two big dogs, the black lab, Madison, and the golden retriever, Samson, slept and ate in the barn.
Late Sunday afternoon, the day after returning from Chicago, Anne stood in her beautiful kitchen and felt as if its three walls were closing in on her. There was no fourth wall. It had been replaced with a breakfast bar. The effect was a large open space, a combination kitchen and family room. Which meant that at the moment she was witnessing firsthand a noisy confrontation between the three Sutton children.
Anne turned on her heel and walked into a short hallway located just inside the back door. She breezed past doors leading to the back staircase, the basement stairs, a bathroom, and the living room. Without a pause, she rapped her knuckles on another door while opening it and strode into the den tucked away in the rear corner of the house. It was Alec’s hideaway.
She shut the door and announced, “It didn’t work.”