Surrendered

by Jennifer Sienes

  My face heats. Surely my cheeks now match my sweater. “I need to talk to you.”

  “About?” He spoons water over the eggs.

  “I’d rather wait until I can have your full attention.”

  He frowns. “Sounds ominous.”

  “So, when you’re done with breakfast?”

  “Come to church with me.”

  “Is that a pre-requisite to you talking to me?” I collect a mug from the cabinet and fill it from the half full coffee carafe.

  “You think I’d coerce you into going to church?”

  “It’s not totally out of the realm of possibility.”

  He just grins.

  “When do you leave?”

  “Half hour.”

  What will the congregants think if they see me accompany Jake to church after more than six months of absenteeism? Will they think we’re together? Would that be so bad? I guess it depends on what’s in that incriminating report. “Let me see if I can rouse Katie. Church’ll do her good.”

  Jake nods as he turns his back toward me, but not before I catch the grin. Is he gloating, relieved, or just happy?

  Katie’s room is night-dark with the shades pulled down against the mild October morning. She worked late last night, so waking her this early won’t endear me to her. Head buried beneath the covers, only the top of her red head peeks out.

  I shake the immovable lump. “Hey, Kitkat.”

  She moans.

  “Wake up, kiddo.”

  “Time”—she clears her throat—“Time is it?”

  “Late.” Is it a bigger sin if I lie on Sunday? “Come on. You have twenty minutes to get ready for church.”

  The covers fly off. “Church?” Sitting up, she pushes the hair off her face. “Since when?”

  “Since now.”

  She flops back down and pulls the covers over her head again. “You’re on your own. Besides, I’m grounded remember? Jake said home, school, and the restaurant.”

  I yank the covers off, exposing her fetal-positioned body encased in a flannel nightshirt. “Now you have fifteen minutes. And unless you want to go dressed like this, I suggest you get moving.”

  Rolling onto her back, she scowls at me. “What’s the big deal? You quit going when Dad died, and now that you’re ready, I have to go too?”

  “Yes.”

  “No way.”

  What have I done? Katie used to love church.

  If I could just get her there… “Come to church with me, and you’re off restriction for the rest of the day.”

  If Dad were here, he’d be heartbroken. Church was not negotiable, and here I am bribing her to attend.

  The covers come off again. “The whole day?”

  “Do you work tonight?”

  “No. Sarah’s on.”

  “Be home by nine.”

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  The last time I stepped into Church of the Pines was the day of Dad’s memorial service. It’s the same today as it was then—right down to the clusters of congregants huddled in groups of three and four. On that day, Dad’s ashes were sitting on a table with his picture, and it seemed so surreal that I wouldn’t see him again. At least, not on this side of Heaven.

  Jake runs a hand down my back. “Are you okay?”

  Okay? I nod, but the heat of his hand brands my spine, halting my breath. It’s almost enough to override the ache in my chest and throat, the tears that burn my nose and eyes. Almost. Somehow, I thought missing Dad would get easier, and I’d convinced myself I was avoiding church out of anger with God. But it was this loss pressing in on me I was hiding from.

  On my other side, Katie tilts her head, voice conspiratorial. “It’s weird, huh?”

  “Are you going to youth group?”

  Before she can answer, two of her friends bounce up and whisk her away.

  “Guess it’s just you and me.” Jake presses my lower back to urge me forward. “You want to find a seat?”

  We’re stopped every two steps. Brisk handshakes, hugs, and warm greetings have my head spinning. It’s not like I haven’t seen these people recently, as most come into the restaurant on a regular basis. And I can’t step into the grocery store or bank without running into half the town. So, I have to assume the heightened interest in me has to do with Jake by my side.

  I grip his arm and pull him close. “If one more person asks if we’re together, I’ll—”

  “We are together.”

  I shake my head. Is he really that obtuse? “No. I mean, you know…” Waving my hand around as if the momentum will provide the right word, I catch Jake’s grin. “What?”

  “Relax, Tess. People will believe what they want, regardless of what you tell them.”

  A music chord reverberates throughout the sanctuary.

  “Let’s find a seat.” Jake tugs my hand, pulling me along like he has a right.

  We squeeze past a line of people to take two empty seats in the middle of the third row as everyone stands for worship. Jake turns to put something on his seat. A Bible? How did I miss that? I stash my purse beneath the pew in front of us and look up at the screen where the words to Amazing Grace are projected.

  Closing my eyes, I try to feel the words, to take them in and prepare my heart for Pastor Kent’s message. But I’m distracted by Jake’s deep voice harmonizing with the worship leader’s. And whether I can see them or not, I feel eyes boring into my back—questions swirling around in the minds of those around us.

  When the music stops, Pastor Kent steps up to the podium. But it’s not his message I hear when he speaks. It’s Dad’s eulogy.

  “We lay to rest a remarkable man,” he said that brisk April day. “A man who will continue to live in the hearts of his two daughters, Tess and Katherine. A man who will live in the hearts of every person who ever knew him. His generous spirit will live on in the lives he touched.”

  Eyes closed, I relive every story told by Dad’s friends. How is it possible when I don’t remember hearing them then? I’d been immersed in grief, worried about Katie, and fighting to keep hold of my emotional sanity.

  “Tess?” Jake’s whisper brings me back to the present as he presses a handkerchief into my hand.

  I blink, and a tear I’d not been aware of trickles down my cheek. Pressing the handkerchief to my eyes and nose, the crisp scent of laundry detergent and bleach is comforting.

  Somehow, Dad’s presence is in this place.

  * * *

  Jake

  I step into the foyer and wait for Tess to join me. She gets side tracked by one person after another. People curious about her. About us, I suppose. Moving out of the line of traffic, I stand against the wall, nodding a greeting to those who pass. But my eyes remain on Tess.

  “It might not be on par with the feeding of the five thousand”—Kent joins me, a grin splitting his face—“but I’d say getting Tess back in church is pretty miraculous.”

  “Nah. You just need the right motivator.”

  “Which is?”

  My gut clenches as Tess’s laughter trickles down the foyer. “Answers. At least, that’s what I assume she wants to talk about.” It’s time to pay the piper.

  Kent frowns. “You bribed her?”

  “Whatever it takes, right? It’s not like your weekly pep talks did the trick.”

  He snorts. “I didn’t actually talk to her. She never returned my phone calls.”

  Katie sidles up between us. “Hey, Pastor Kent.”

  He smiles. “Katie. So good to see you.”

  “You too.” She looks at me. “Have you seen Tess?”

  I point as Tess throws her head back and laughs at something Jodi Kingston says. Maybe I did bribe her, but she’s not suffering from it. “You ready to go?”

  Side stepping toward Tess, she shakes her head. “I’m going with Heather and Trish. I just want to let Tess know.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Why not?”

 
; Kent slaps me on the back. “Good to see you. Call me. We’ll meet later in the week.” I’d hightail it out too, if I were him.

  I nod. “Have a good day.”

  “Well?” Katie digs her hands into her hips.

  With a quick glance around, I lower my voice. “You’re on restriction, remember?” I catch Tess’s eye and wave her over.

  “Tess gave me the day off.”

  “What for?”

  “So I’d come to church.”

  “She bribed you?”

  Tess puts an arm around Katie. “There’s a lot of that going around. It must be an epidemic.”

  “So it seems.”

  “I’ll be home by nine.” Katie slips out of Tess’s arm. “Movies and pizza with Heather and Trish. I’ll keep my cell phone on.”

  “Be careful.” Tess waves her off and turns to me. “I guess it’s your turn.”

  It takes us another ten minutes to get out the door. Every step one nail closer to my coffin.

  I open the passenger door and wait for Tess to slide in. “How about I take you to lunch?”

  Her eyebrows hitch up. “What’s the deal? You think I’ll be easier on you in public?”

  “A man can hope.” I close the door and round the car to the driver’s side. Climbing behind the wheel, I take a deep breath. “Where to?”

  “Mexican sounds good.”

  Turning the key, I nod. “Tortilla Flats it is.”

  The restaurant is crowded with the after-church crowd. Always a good sign. And the added benefit? Tess won’t raise her voice or storm off before I can explain.

  We get the last window table, sit across from each other, and accept menus from the hostess. I flip mine open but have no clue what I’m reading. Stalling isn’t going to make it easier, but just a few more minutes of peace…

  Tess folds her hands on the menu and looks at me.

  “You know what you’re getting?”

  “I do. May I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “Anything but chicken.”

  I flip the menu closed and set it aside. “That supposed to be a euphemism?”

  She shrugs. “Just a suggestion.”

  The waitress appears with water, and we give her our orders.

  “Okay, Tess. Shoot. What do you want to talk about?” As if I don’t know.

  Elbows on the table, she leans forward. “I hired an investigator.”

  I clench my fist in my lap. It’s not like I didn’t know, but it’s no easier to hear.

  “You’re not surprised, are you?”

  “My sister told me.”

  Her eyes widen. “Your sister? You mean that woman Katie was talking about?”

  I scowl. “Isn’t that what I told you?”

  “Yeah, but…” She rubs her temple.

  “Must not have been a very thorough report.”

  Running her thumb down the condensation on her water glass, she glances at me. “I didn’t open it.”

  What’s she playing at? Leaning close, I temper my voice. “You hired someone to investigate me, and you didn’t look at it? Why?”

  Eyes downcast, she shrugs. “I don’t know what’s going on between us, but whatever it is, we’re at least friends, don’t you think?” Vulnerable green eyes meet mine.

  Friends. That’s quite a concession for a woman who wanted to roast me alive six months ago. “At least.”

  “I’ve told you everything, Jake. About what happened to me, I mean. You know why it was so hard to go back to school.”

  The pain in her tone pierces my heart. “Yes.”

  “But I know nothing about you.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not entirely true.”

  “Here’s your order.” Our waitress slides hot plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?”

  I wave her off. “This is good. Thanks.”

  Tess watches the woman leave before focusing on me. “What do I know? You have a sister.”

  Unwrapping my utensils, I look at her. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about me.” Which may just end this tentative friendship. “But you have to know I’d move heaven and hell to protect you and Katie. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  She chews on the inside of her cheek, picking at her enchilada with a fork. “Where did you come from?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say Mars, but I don’t think she’d see the humor in it. “San Francisco. I was born and raised in the Bay Area but worked in San Francisco.”

  “As what?”

  Snatching a tortilla chip from my plate, I snap it in half. “A doctor.” The word about chokes me.

  Her brows furrow. “A doctor? But why…” She clears her throat. “What’re you doing here if you’re a doctor?”

  “The short version?”

  She nods.

  “A child died while under my care. He”—I swallow—“he was about Max’s age.”

  “They fired you?” Are the tears in her eyes for the boy or me?

  “No.” Each question is like a knife in the heart. “The investigation cleared me. But I couldn’t practice anymore. Couldn’t—can’t take the chance.”

  “But if it’s not your fault…”

  “It doesn’t matter, Tess. That boy died.” I shake my head, trying to clear the vision. “He wasn’t even my patient. I was called in when his doc couldn’t be found. Turns out, he was out getting drunk that night.”

  “The mysterious friend?”

  “He’s not a friend. Just an incompetent—” I bite off the explanation. What’s the point? It just takes me back down that dark road.

  Tess plays with a chip, her meal untouched. “So why here? I mean, you have family in the Bay Area, right?”

  “Couldn’t take the disappointment on my dad’s face. I met your dad at the hospital—”

  “In San Francisco? Was he seeing a specialist for his heart?”

  This is where it gets tricky. “I told you before, Tess. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about me, but Sean’s off limits.”

  Eyebrows furrowed, she throws her hands up. “What difference does it make now? He’s gone.”

  “Doesn’t matter. All you need to know is I met him down there and we became friends. He offered me anonymity and a place to lick my wounds, so to speak.”

  Her jaw works, like she’s battling the need to say something more.

  “Anything else?” I bite off a portion of taco.

  She sighs. “Have you ever been married?”

  “Nope.”

  “Engaged?”

  “Close. We done now?” I might just survive the interrogation.

  “Just two more.”

  “Shoot.” It’s in the bag.

  “Why have you been writing reports about Katie and me? And who is two_sisters@gmail.com?”

  Chapter 35

  Tess

  The Bible says love is patient and kind—bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. I’m hanging on to my anger with Jake by a web-thin thread, and I fear—or is it hope?—that love is to blame. Laptop open on Julia’s dining room table, the pointer hovers over Jerald & Brothers file for the umpteenth and one time. I have the devil sitting on one shoulder shouting, “Open it, you fool!” and an angel on the other whispering, “Believe.”

  I’m not sure what it is God’s asking me to believe, but I don’t doubt He’s the angel in disguise.

  “Don’t do it, Tess.” Julia drops onto the dining room chair beside me. It’s clear she’s on Team God. “For once, take things at face value.”

  “What face value?” I slam the lid closed and the table centerpiece, a lop-sided jack-o’-lantern, grins at me. Whose team is he on? “The one thing I needed from Jake, he refuses to give me.”

  “But it’s Jake.”

  “Oh please. You’re just being swayed by a handsome face.”

  Her grin resembles the pumpkin’s. “So, you admit he’s handsome.”

&n
bsp; “That’s not debatable. But just because—”

  “And sweet.”

  I scowl at her. “Now that’s debatable.”

  She raises her hand and counts off evidential points, one finger at a time. “He carried you out of danger—”

  “I was never in danger.”

  “You said he covered Katie with a blanket the night she came home drunk.”

  “I should have never told you that. I was in a weakened state.”

  “He watches Max when I bring him to work.”

  “Cheap labor.”

  “He’s a good kisser.”

  “What?” I jump up. “Who told you he kissed me?”

  “Ha! You did. Just now. Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

  “Because you’d make too much out of it.” And from the dopey grin on her face, I was right. “It was only once.” But it was enough to confuse me. “And that’s beside the point, Julia. You saw those reports.”

  “Did he say he didn’t send them?”

  I tap a finger on the laptop. “No. Just that he’d be breaking a confidence.” I look at her. “Like he’s not breaking my confidence by writing them in the first place.” I flip the lid up again.

  Julia eases it closed and takes my hand. “The answer won’t be in your investigator’s report.”

  “No. But if he isn’t telling me everything—”

  “Like you’ve told him everything.” She gets up, crosses the kitchen, and opens the freezer. Turning back to me, she holds up a container of ice cream before setting it on the counter.

  “What are you talking about? Of course—”

  “You told him about sending emails out to that sicko’s students?” She takes two bowls from a cabinet.

  “He’d overreact.”

  “That’s not the point, Tess. Come scoop this ice cream, will you?”

  I look in two drawers before finding the scooper, while Julia pulls one item after another from the fridge—chocolate syrup, maraschino cherries, whipped cream, and strawberry sauce. “If you think putting me in a sugar coma’s going to keep me from looking at my laptop…”

  “Admit it. You shouldn’t have hired that guy to investigate Jake.” She hooks a bite of chocolate fudge ice cream from the container with a finger and pops it into her mouth.