by Delia Parr
Sarah stilled so quickly Madge thought she might have simply pressed a button from On to Off. When Sarah smiled at her without a single new tear waiting to fall, Madge knew she was face-to-face with one very strong-willed, spoiled little girl. Rather than get into a contest of wills, she cocked a brow. “You win this round, but don’t get any ideas about winning the next one. Let’s go find your baby and we’ll wait until Daddy gets downstairs before we negotiate breakfast.”
“Poppy seepin’.”
“He better not be,” Madge muttered. She carried Sarah to the foyer and sat her down on the bottom step. “You must sit right here while I go outside.”
“Find Baby?”
“Yes, I’m going to find your baby.” Madge opened the front door. By some chance, which had to be the first good one in what had become the most miserable day of her life, the rain has stopped. Overhead, clouds in the distance approached like a runaway herd of black sheep. The break in the storm would not last long. Madge said a quick prayer that Russell had not locked the car, warned Sarah to sit still again and charged out to the car. She saw the car seat in the back, opened the rear door and gasped.
There was no baby doll in the back seat. No stuffed animal, either. Only a little brown fur ball that lifted up its head, opened both golden eyes and yawned.
This was Sarah’s baby?
This kitten was Sarah’s baby?
Russell let his daughter have a pet? He had never allowed the boys to have pets of any kind. Was there no limit to this man’s gall?
Madge reached in, picked up the kitten and cuddled it against her chest. Then she slammed the car door shut and marched back to the house. Her heart pumped in outrage.
The moment she reached the porch, little Sarah leaped up from the step. “Baby!” she cried, and held out her arms.
Madge handed over the kitten and picked them both up. “I think we should go and find Daddy now,” she murmured. She carried the now-contented child up the steps and down the hall to the master bedroom. She kept a tight hold on her emotions and had no intention of making a fuss about the kitten.
Not now. Not with little Sarah here. But later, Madge would blister that man’s ears or her name was not Margaret Louise Long Stevens!
For now, she would have to settle for a glare so cold Russell would take one look at her face and instantly freeze. She rather liked the mental image of Russell’s face coated with ice crystals, his body frozen solid, especially that lying, cheating heart of his. She set her features, opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. When she saw him lying on the bed, sound asleep just like Sarah had said, she rocked back on her heels and wrapped both arms around Sarah and Baby.
With her mouth agape, she stared at the bed where he had apparently sat down to put on his socks but fell asleep instead. He was sprawled on his side with a sock in one hand. The other was on the floor. Exhaustion etched in his face, even in sleep. Grief and shame, she hoped, gave an ashen-gray cast to his skin. He looked tired and beat, as if the world had become a place too difficult for him to be in anymore.
“Your world, Russell. The world you created. The world you destroyed for both of us,” she whispered.
“Find Poppy!” Sarah squealed, and tried to wriggle free, which prompted the kitten to meow.
Madge was half tempted to let the child free to wake up Russell, but she had no desire to let Baby loose—not until she had a litter pan set up. Besides, waking Russell now would not accomplish much. He and Madge would not be able to talk freely until Sarah was napping.
“Hush now. Hold still. See? We found your daddy for you, but you were right. He’s sleeping, and he needs to rest a little while longer.”
Sarah’s eyes opened wide and she smiled. “Mommy restin’ too. Find Mommy. Find Mommy now!”
Madge gazed down at Sarah and swallowed hard. She could not explain to this little girl that her mommy was dead. Death was not a concept this three-year-old would be able to grasp. With time, she would eventually understand that death was a permanent state and her separation from her mother would last for all of Sarah’s lifetime. Their reunion would come in the next world, not this one. The days and weeks, even years, ahead would be filled with confusion and uncertainty and grief so real she would cry from the pain that would rack her soul as she struggled to find a new place herself. A place where she felt secure and loved again. A place where she would once again find the joy and love that would ease the pain of her loss.
Just like Madge would have to do.
Inexplicably drawn to this child by a bond forged in mutual pain and loss, Madge hugged Sarah to her breast and left the room, closing the door behind her. She started down the hall. “It looks like we’re both in the same sinking boat,” she told the child. Without life vests, without a pair of oars, a compass or emergency flares, and the captain who had steered them into this mess was asleep! “What are we going to do?”
She hoisted Sarah to her hip, while the kitten held on to Madge’s blouse with sharp claws that pinched her skin. She settled the kitten back into Sarah’s arms.
With her bottom lip quivering, Sarah looked up at her. “Find Mommy?”
Madge sighed. “You know, if I could find your mommy, I would. I surely would.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
By eight o’clock that night, the storm that had badgered Welleswood all day had swept father east and closer to sea. The heavy rains had become a drizzly mist. The winds had softened, but heavy clouds still guarded the moon and stars.
Madge, however, remained stuck in the eye of the storm that had swept into her home. After negotiating through a few tantrums, she and Sarah had managed through breakfast, lunch, dinner and bedtime. Sarah had a surprisingly good appetite. Their major battle had been over milk. Sarah had refused to drink a drop, but Madge’s distaste for regular milk as a child made her sympathetic rather than upset. She would have given anything for a bottle of chocolate syrup; instead, she had taken a few of the imported French chocolates that Russell had given to her, melted them in the microwave with a little milk, and stirred the chocolate sauce into Sarah’s glass of milk.
With that problem solved, Madge had moved on to the next. She had found a suitcase filled with the clothes Russell had brought along for his daughter in the trunk of his car, along with his luggage. She left his suitcases where they were, but Sarah’s clothes now filled the dresser in the guest room, where the toddler had fallen asleep once Madge had taken the night-light from the hall and put it into her room.
Getting Baby situated required a little more ingenuity. Luckily, Russell kept stores of samples of various pet foods and supplies in the basement. For food and water bowls, Madge used two of the small silver bowls that Russell had received as awards at one time or another. Somehow, the idea that the kitten would be eating food and lapping water from bowls that had Salesman of the Year inscribed on the bottom seemed rather fitting since the man had obviously been catting around with at least one woman and who knows how many more.
The only thing she had not found was a plastic pan for the litter. After searching through the other half of the basement where Russell kept the tools he rarely used and the old “treasures” he intended to restore someday, she settled on an old wooden soda crate that had once held quart bottles of carbonated water. Once Madge had lined the crate with plastic, it made an adequate makeshift litter pan, which Baby used almost before Madge had added the last of the litter.
With Sarah tucked into bed and Baby snuggling in beside her, Madge sat alone in the living room in the dark. Russell was still upstairs sleeping, she supposed. She had not heard him stir or move about, but she had not had the nerve to open the door to their bedroom and check on him. She might never go back into that room, not while Russell was there. Maybe not after he had gone, either.
She toyed with her wedding ring and knocked her diamond engagement ring each time she twisted the narrow gold band round and round her finger. How could he sleep through the entire day? Was he that exhausted
?
He knew she would not be able to take out her anger on a little girl. He knew how much she loved little children, especially her nieces, Katy and Hannah, now that their boys were grown. She loved children. Period.
Her backbone stiffened. Did he really think she would simply forgive him—or forgive him more easily for the sake of his daughter?
“She’s your daughter, not mine,” she whispered. She tried to imagine what Sarah’s mother had looked like. Was she young and fair, like Sarah? Was she—?
A thud, followed by a groan upstairs ended her musings. She heard Russell limp his way down the hall and turn on the foyer light. Hidden by the shadows, Madge remained in her chair, silent and still. She felt no guilt for taking the night-light from the hallway. After all, she had moved it for his daughter. When she heard Russell descending the steps, she lowered her gaze, and said a prayer. Please, God. Help me to be strong. Help me to bear the pain to come.
“Madge? Are you in there?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, I’m here.”
He stepped into the room, saw her sitting in the chair and dropped into the chair directly across from her. “What happened to the night-light?” he asked as he crossed one leg over his knee and massaged his foot. “I think I might have broken a toe.”
“Sarah needed it. I put it in her room.”
He froze for a moment, then nodded and put both feet back on the floor. “I stopped to see her on my way downstairs. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep—”
“Or sleep all day?” She asked the question, but she knew the haggard look he still wore was real.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten any sleep. Deep sleep, that is.”
She wanted to take the lump out of her throat and throw it at him. “I’m sure it’s been very difficult. Losing your wife, that is. And so suddenly. I’m sure you weren’t prepared for that to happen. How inconvenient for you.”
The blood drained from his face. “I suppose I should have expected that.”
“Expected what, Russell? My anger? My disappointment? Or has it just now occurred to you that you’re also going to lose this wife and you’ll be alone, unless there’s a third wife you’ve hidden away somewhere. How many wives do you have left now, anyway?”
He closed his eyes for a moment and moistened his lips. “You’re the only wife I have.”
“Now,” she cautioned, although some deep part of her was relieved to know there weren’t any more women calling themselves Mrs. Russell Stevens. Unless he was lying.
When he did not respond, she held silent. She had no intention of making this easier for him. She let the silence build between them, as cold and stiff as the wall his betrayal had already built.
He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve hurt you…the boys…I’m not going to make any excuses for what I’ve done. I—I just don’t know where to begin or if you’ll even stop hating me for what I’ve done long enough to listen to what I have to say.”
Her mind screamed for vengeance and created one bitter response after another to hurl at him. Already wounded, her heart trembled with the fear his words would deliver a fatal blow that would forever destroy the love she had for him. Her soul, filled with faith, begged her to let patience and understanding prevail. “Begin at the beginning,” she whispered.
His eyes glistened with tears, which he swiped away with the back of one hand. “The beginning…The beginning was only a few years ago when I met Stacy. She is…was a lot like you, but I suppose you don’t want to hear that.”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
He drew in a deep breath. “I met Stacy through work. She had just moved to the Pittsburgh area and she started working as a secretary for the Sales Director at Noah’s Ark. Their headquarters are in Collsworth, right outside the city.”
Madge nodded. Noah’s Ark was a major pet store chain on the East Coast and one of Russell’s largest accounts. A mental image of the biblical ark formed in her mind. She shook her head to get rid of the image.
“Stacy…she had a flat tire in the parking lot one day. I changed it for her. From there…well…you can see how things ended up.” He released the sigh of a totally defeated man, tilted his head and laid it against the back of his chair. His body slumped, as if his muscles were too tired to hold his body erect, and he closed his eyes, as if ready to surrender to death, to escape the nightmare he had created for himself.
The part of Madge that loved Russell yearned to take him into her arms and comfort him. The part of her that wanted justice urged her to pack a bag, walk out of this house and head straight to the best barracuda of a lawyer she could afford.
She decided to wait to learn more before she made any decision at all. “There’s a lot that happened between meeting this woman and now. I deserve to know what happened, what made you take another wife without bothering to divorce the one you already had,” she insisted. She was proud of herself for the even tone of voice she had used.
He sat upright and stared at her. “I never wanted a divorce. I never stopped loving you. Never. It’s just…I was weak, I’ll admit that. I sinned. Yes, I sinned. I broke my vows and I betrayed you, but I never wanted to hurt you. But things got…complicated. I didn’t know what else to do. God help me, I didn’t know what to do,” he whispered.
Her throat constricted. “You mean what to do about Sarah?”
When he spoke again, his voice cracked. “I was already prepared to end the affair when Stacy told me she was pregnant. She didn’t know I was married. I couldn’t let her have the baby alone or raise the baby alone, either. She had no one. No family at all. She was all alone, living in a strange new town. Marrying her seemed the only option.”
“So you lied to her, too. Did she ever find out—”
“No,” he whispered. “She never knew I was already married to you. I couldn’t tell her, especially after Sarah was born. I couldn’t tell you, either. I didn’t know when or how either one of you would find out, but I never dreamed it would be like this.”
“Lies always come home to roost. My grandmother told me that more than once when I was a little girl. I guess it’s true, isn’t it?” Madge murmured. “What…what are your plans now? What did you think would happen when you came home to me with your daughter?”
Russell locked his gaze with hers. “I—I don’t have any plans. Not beyond staying here for a few days. I—I won’t fight a divorce…if that’s what you want. Beyond that, I guess it’s up to you, isn’t it?”
She stiffened. Was it up to her? Did she have a choice? Could she find it in her heart to forgive him, or was the wall he had built between them so strong and so filled with anger and resentment that it was impenetrable?
She bowed her head, but her heart was too weakened to attempt to find the answers to her questions. She was blessed that her wounded heart was able to beat at all.
Suddenly, she was tired, so very, very tired. Without answering him, she stood up and walked to the staircase in the foyer. She paused at the bottom step, but she did not turn to look over at him. “There are leftovers in the refrigerator if you’re hungry. I’m going to get a few of my things and go to bed. I’ll be in Drew’s room.”
“No, please. Don’t do that. I’ll take his room.”
She started up the stairs without answering him. When she got to the master bedroom, the room where both of her sons had been conceived, she paused and turned away. She went straight to Drew’s room down the hall and closed the door behind her. She did not bother to turn on the light or take off her clothes. She just stepped out of her shoes, crawled into the single bed and pulled the covers up to her neck.
When the dam finally burst, when all of her emotions finally broke free, she buried her face in the pillow to stifle her sobs. She curled into a ball and cried as if her heart had broken, because it had. She cried as if she still loved this man, because she did. She cried as if all that she had treasured
in the world was now slipping from her grasp, because it was. And she cried as if she had no other choice to make now about her marriage, because deep in her heart she knew she had no other choice but one.
When her tears were spent and her body was limp with exhaustion, she barely had the strength to pray. When she finished, the answer to her pleas for guidance spoke directly to her heart, but she did not find the answer any easier to bear than her husband’s betrayal.
“This isn’t my fault. I shouldn’t have to do this. I’m fifty-five years old. I shouldn’t have to start over again,” she whispered with a breath of defiance, “and I won’t do it.”
But you must.
“I can’t do this.”
Yes, you can.
“Not alone. I can’t do this alone.”
You are never alone. He is always with you.
“But I’m not strong enough. I’m not strong, like Andrea.”
He is stronger. Lean on Him.
She shook her head. “I’ll fail. I’ll still fall.”
He knows.
“Soon everyone will know. The scandal will be unbearable.” She paused. “My life will never be the same. No one will love me. Not like they do now.”
He will. He’ll always love you.
She wept until the moment she fell asleep, still too heart-broken to believe in much of anything beyond the pain that pierced the very essence of her spirit.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Trouble practically met Andrea at the door when she got to work on Friday morning, even though she thought she had put this particular trouble behind her.
She did not even have time to check her calendar for the day or retrieve the messages from the answering machine when six-feet-something of trouble sauntered into her office, pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her desk.
She met Bill Sanderson’s gaze and matched his obvious determination by squaring her shoulders. “We didn’t have an appointment today.”