The Ultimatum

by Nancy Moser

  And what did you do?

  Ivan was talking, but Bailey hadn't been listening and wasn't about to start now. “I really need to get to the restaurant.”

  Merry took a step back. “But you just got here. Did you find what you were looking for?”

  Not exactly. No. Actually. Not at all.

  Eldora was still new to Jered. At least the back alleys were new. He'd grown up going to Eldora for things Steadfast lacked, but he'd been too young to frequent the bar-restaurant scene. He did so now because they had great garbage—as long as you didn't have to hide in it.

  Thank God for health regulations. He couldn't believe the amount of food these places tossed out. In Kansas City he'd discovered Mexican places were the best because they usually served free chips with meals, and if a customer didn't finish the bowl, they had to throw them out. Thrown-away chips kept him alive.

  He parked in back of the Palamba's Bar and Grill. No one was around. Lucky for him the dumpster was overflowing, so garbage bags were set handily on the ground. He grabbed two bags and tossed them in the back of his truck. He'd take them off-site to sort through them. He was going back for two more when a big guy with a goatee and a long ponytail came out the back. Their eyes met and Jered froze.

  The man didn't say anything. He just leaned against the building and lit a cigarette. Jered waited a few seconds, then decided to finish his work. He tossed the final two bags in the back of his truck and hurried to the driver's side.

  “You have a thing for other people's garbage?”

  Jered dropped his keys. “They don't want it. It's garbage.”

  The man sauntered toward him, puffing his cigarette, his eyes narrow.

  Uh-oh. “Hey, it's just garbage. Don't get bent out of shape.” Jered stumbled into the truck, fumbling the keys a second time as he tried to start the engine and close the door at the same time.

  The man halted the door with a hand and grinned. “The boy has an attitude.”

  “I'm no boy. And my attitude is my business.”

  “But you want my garbage.”

  Jered looked at the building. “You own that place?”

  “And everyone in it.”

  It was Jered's turn to smile. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  The man shrugged and put a black boot on the truck's running board. He wiped a smudge of dirt off the toe. “So what you going to do with the garbage?”

  “What do you think?”

  The man took a drag of his cigarette and let the smoke out slow. “You're either a narc looking for drug paraphernalia—in which case I'd say, ‘Have at it, you won't find a thing.’ Or you're a runaway kid who's aching for a meal.” His eyes skimmed the interior of the truck. “A kid who's been sleeping in his vehicle, living off scraps.” He put his boot down. “A kid who hasn't had a shower in way too long.”

  Jered knew he was ripe and his hair greasy. “Yeah, well, my butler quit.”

  The man laughed.

  “No crime in being on the road, is there?”

  “Homeless.”

  Jered hated to think of it that way. “Its not a crime.”

  “No, it isn't. But it's a dumb thing to be if you have alternatives.”

  Jered laughed. “Funny, I don't see any alternatives lying around.”

  The man squinted at him. “Sure you do. They're all over the place, just waiting for you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Hey. It's no butter off my toast if you don't take an opportunity that's offered you.”

  Jered's throat was dry. He managed a swallow. “What opportunity?”

  “Kitchen work. If you're interested.”

  Jered tried not to look too eager. “I might be.”

  “What's your name, kid?”

  He thought about lying, but if the guy was giving him a job… “Jered. Jered Manson.”

  “I'm Jinko Daly.”

  Jered smiled. “Jinko?”

  The man shrugged. “Better'n some. Worst'n most.” He pulled out a wad of bills, peeled off two fifties, then handed them to Jered. “Here, Jered Manson. Go to the truck stop and get yourself a shower, then get a haircut and a couple decent-looking shirts. Be back here at six, and we'll see what happens.”

  Jered loved the feel of real money in his hand. But it wasn't normal for someone to give a stranger a hundred bucks. “I can't take—”

  Jinko pushed the money back. “Let's call it an advance on your services.”

  Jered eyed him a moment. “Kitchen work, right?”

  Jinko laughed. “You've seen too many movies, kid. But you do owe me.”

  “What makes you think I won't keep driving?”

  Jinko speared him with a look, flicked his cigarette away, and walked back to the building.

  “But you're usually home Saturdays,” Annie said.

  Cal stood, drinking the last of his coffee. “Not today. I have some errands to run. Lots of errands. In Eldora.”

  “What sort of errands?”

  He set the mug on the counter. “Construction stuff. Just stuff.”

  She opened her mouth to ask, What kind ofstuffi then stopped. She held her coffee cup beneath her chin. She needed to shut up. She'd told Susan that she and Avi would come over for the Bible study. If Cal was around, there was no way he'd let them go. Maybe his absence was a good thing.

  Yet she hated being secretive.

  But he gave her no choice.

  She heard the kitchen door open and realized if Cal had been saying anything, she hadn't been listening. “Bye,” he said. “I'll be home late afternoon.”

  “See you then.”

  Annie took a sip of coffee. It was cold. Very cold.

  Susan's face was a poster for surprise. “Welcome, welcome!” she said as she let Annie and Avi inside.

  A cute teenage girl, who had to be Sim, came out to meet them with a little boy about three at her heels. Another teenager and a girl Avis age appeared close behind. “Hey, Avi. Come into the kitchen. We're making pumpkins out of Styrofoam balls.”

  Avi was off in a puff of air, leaving Annie alone. She felt like calling, “Come back!”

  Susan hung up her coat. The house had “new” going for it, but it lacked the character of the McFay's older home. Beige walls, beige carpet, white woodwork. The furnishings looked new, too, and were only the basics. A picture of a mother and child walking in a meadow hung by the door. Very feminine. Pastel colors. In fact, all the accessories were feminine. No sign of a man's influence at all.

  Interesting.

  Susan led her into the living room.

  “Surprise!”

  Annies jaw dropped. “Merry?”

  Merry laughed. “Don't look so shocked. I've been trying to get you to come to my Bible study for weeks.”

  “But I didn't know your Bible study was this Bible study.”

  “One and the same.”

  It was then she noticed Claire Adams, the town's resident mosaic artist. Claire scooted over on the couch and patted the cushion. “Merry's wanted to call you ever since Susan said you might be coming, but we thought it would be more fun to surprise you.”

  “You certainly did that.” Annie looked at the final woman, recognizing her as the receptionist at the ER, but she didn't know her name. “The hospital, right?”

  The woman sat forward on the wing chair and reached across the coffee table to shake Annie's hand. “Stella Morrow, whose job is admitting patients but not admitting anything that will get me into trouble. Nice to meet you for real. How's your daughters leg?”

  “It's doing fine.”

  Merry added more information. “Stella is the mother of the two girls and the little boy in the kitchen. The girls are Callie and—”

  “Cassie.” Annie nodded. “I've met Cassie before. She's in Avis class, right?”

  Stella nodded.

  “And your boy…?”

  “Is a handful,” Stella said. “Yup. Zack's mine and proof that there's definitely a diff
erence between boys and girls. Lord have mercy.” She sighed deeply as she set her flowered coffee mug on the table.

  Susan pointed to two carafes. “What can I get you: hazelnut coffee or peppermint tea?”

  “Hazelnut. Anything hazelnut,” Annie said. “Black.”

  “Why doesn't the Plentiful serve flavored coffees?” Merry asked. “That's the thing, you know.”

  “Which explains why we don't do it. Donald has a mother-complex: He only believes in recipes his mom used.”

  “No fruit smoothies or quiches for him, eh?” Claire said.

  “You'll have to settle for orange juice and eggs over easy.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Susan said. “Home cooking is comfort food.”

  Stella put her hands on her ample middle. “As you can see, I've done my share of being comforted.”

  Their laughter was the laughter of shared experiences. Annie felt right at home.

  “Actually, we don't do restaurants right now,” Stella said.

  “Why not?”

  “Zack is a terror. I order him grilled cheese, and he suddenly wants a hot dog. And he always spills. The last time we ate out, he made such a fuss I ended up yelling at him, right there in front of everybody. I completely lost it.”

  “Happens to the best of us,” Susan said.

  Stella shook her head. “Not like I did it. We'd all gone to Kansas City for a weekend. My husband was so embarrassed, he virtually yanked Zack and me out of our chairs, threw some money on the table, and hightailed it to the van. That's when we really got into it. We yelled and screamed at each other all the way home. Poor Zack sat in the back crying, and the girls cowered in their corners. The odd thing was how the argument turned. It didn't end up being about Zack's eating habits at all. It's as if every bad thing my hubby and I had ever done to each other was tossed into that car.” She shuddered. “It was awful.”

  Claire crossed her legs. “My ex and I were champions at taking one beef and making it into an entire pot roast.”

  Merry laughed. “What did you just say?”

  Claire shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

  Susan raised a hand. “Order up some pot roast here, too. My ex, Forbes, and I were good at keeping things roasting. We rarely had a calm moment. My hardest lesson was learning how and when to keep my mouth shut. Not fan the flames.”

  Flames. Fire. Annie felt her stomach catch. She knew exactly what these ladies meant. She'd experienced it just last night.

  Stella pointed at her. “You're nodding. Fess up.”

  Had she been nodding? She hadn't meant to nod.

  Susan spoke. “Come on, Annie. Share. You're among friends.”

  Annie took a moment and found it to be true. “It happened last night with Cal. I was just about to let go with some really good zingers when these words came into my head, like I was thinking them, but not, because they weren't like anything I'd think of.”

  “What were the words?” Stella asked.

  Annie was surprised but glad she remembered the gist of them. “The thought was that my words were fire and that all it took was one spark. Something like that.”

  “Ain't it the truth?” Stella said. “Burn, baby, burn.”

  Susan took a Bible off the coffee table. “I think there's a verse like that.” She opened it up to the back, then flipped through a couple of pages. “Should I look up spark or fire?”

  “Try spark ” Claire said.

  A few seconds later Susan drilled her finger into a page. “Here! James 3:5: ‘The tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark.’”

  “Whoa,” Stella said.

  Annie shook her head. “This is weird.”

  “No, it's not,” Claire said. “It's wonderful.”

  “SOP,” Susan said.

  Annie did a double take in her direction. “SOP?”

  “Standard Operating Procedure. It's God. It's how He works, how He speaks to us.”

  Annie shook her head again. “God wouldn't speak to me. I'm too new to all this, too…” She couldn't finish.

  “Nonsense,” Claire said. “New, old, He talks to us—whether or not we're listening is the question. He's constantly trying to get our attention.”

  Annie stopped her mug halfway to her mouth. “Well, it worked. I shut up. I didn't say what I was going to say.”

  “And the argument ended soon after, right?” Susan asked.

  “Well…yes, it did.” Annie was astounded by that fact. “You mean, that was God? Directing me?”

  Stella laughed. “And that was you listening. Way to go, girl!”

  “You must be more open to Him than I was.” Merry's voice was quiet. “It took a plane crash for Him to get through to me.”

  Claire reached over and put a hand on Merry's knee. “Oh, Merry.”

  Annie let the moment register. She'd known Merry had lost her husband and son in a plane crash, but it had never occurred to her… Was Merry's view of the tragedy correct? Had God been trying to get her attention?

  Merry waved her hands next to her head. “Goodness sakes, I do know how to bring down a group, don't I?” Her smile was forced. “Let's move—”

  There was a crash in the kitchen. “Mom!”

  Stella rose. “Zack strikes again!”

  Susan rose with her. “How ‘bout some brownies? I feel the need for a chocolate fix, right, ladies?”

  Annie hung back, wanting to be the last to leave the Bible study. She was not the only one hesitant to go.

  Avi pulled at her sleeve. “Do we have to go, Mama?”

  “‘Fraid so, sweet-apple.”

  Sim came to the rescue. “I'll go out to the car with you, Avi.”

  The girls went outside, leaving Annie and Susan alone. They carried the carafes to the kitchen.

  Susan shook the one for the coffee. “One more cup?”

  “No thanks.”

  “So how'd you like it? Them?” Susan asked.

  “They're nice ladies. I knew that before and feel it even more so now.”

  “None better.”

  “And they…” She handed Susan a plate for the dishwasher.

  “They?”

  “They're so real. I always thought a Bible study would be about being…perfect or something. But it's not about that at all. You all made me feel so welcome. As if I belonged.”

  “You do belong. We're not great scholars here. We're just a bunch of friends who share what we know about the Lord, try to do better, and find out more.”

  “But they talked about the verses as if they were talking about a recipe.”

  Susan smiled. “Recipe. That's a good one. The Bible is full of God's recipes for life. Something for every taste bud, no matter what you feel like eating.”

  “What amazes me is that it fit with what's going on in my life. I had the argument, then I come here and hear the verse that fits. That's so cool.”

  “You bet,” Susan said. “And now that you've seen it once, be prepared to see it again. And again. And again.”

  “Really?”

  Susan laughed. “I love the look in your eyes. The notion excites you, doesn't it?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  Susan put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Welcome to the sisterhood, Annie. Now that God's got your attention, there's no way He's going to let you go. Ready or not, here He comes!”

  He had her attention, but what about Cal's? “I didn't bring it up today, but I'm having trouble with Cal regarding my faith. He just doesn't understand, and every time I try to tell him, explain…” She sighed. “It comes out wrong. All wrong.”

  Susan took Annie's hands in hers. “Been there, done that, sister. With Forbes I pushed and yelled and argued and pleaded—”

  “Did it work?”

  “Nope.” Her hand moved to her pregnant belly. “In fact, I think my faith was a big part of his leaving me. Leaving us.”

  Annie put a
hand on her own belly. “Oh, dear. I don't want that.”

  Susan rushed to explain. “It's not a given. It doesn't have to be that way. Yet I often wonder if I'd been more subtle, kind, and loved him into the arms of the Father, if Forbes would have responded differently.”

  “Sounds a bit gushy and weak, if you ask me.”

  Susan shrugged. “And who knows if it would have worked? The truth is, God does the calling, one on one, and our spouses have the choice to answer. Or not. Forbes chose not. At least for now.”

  “But I want Cal to have what I have, to—”

  “Feel what you feel? I know. But nobody likes to be bullied into believing. Not even if its for his own good.” Susan sighed. “I wish I could be more help.”

  The feeling was mutual.

  Cal came home earlier than he planned. He'd spent the entire day moving boxes and furniture. He wished he could tell Annie the truth, but it was out of the question.

  He'd been able to sustain it all these years with little work. Just a few “errands” slipped into a day. Annie had never caught on. The lie had been a part of his life so long, it was like a layer of skin, something he didn't have to think about, something that could remain covered.

  But now, everything had changed. Now he'd have to make more false errands, more trips to Eldora. The odds of keeping the secret were tilting against him, and it would take some heavy-duty manipulation to make things balance again.

  If only other things were the same. But Annie's quest for Jesus was an additional factor that threatened everything. He couldn't count on her to act or react the same as she always had. Or to even keep the same schedule.

  The truth was, lies did not fare well amid change.

  Neither did he. Any time the rules of their marriage changed, his nerves percolated like one of those old coffee machines his parents had, with the coffee bubbling up in the clear lid. Yes, indeed, his nerves were percolating something fierce lately.

  And so he'd come home early to seek “normal.” He lived for normal. He needed normal like a blind man needed sight. Even if their normal wasn't perfect, it was something he tried to hold on to, a baseline from which the rest of their lives could be measured. Between Jesus and the lie…it was going to be tough.

  He took his boots off on the stoop, went in, and hung up his jacket. She wasn't in the kitchen. “Annie?”