by Nancy Moser
“Do I look that bad?”
“Actually…”
Annie looked past her, into the room. “It's about to start.”
They took their seats in the same row as Blanche and Ivan. Harold had offered to watch things at the library.
Annie set her purse under her chair. “Is Ken coming?”
Merry shook her head. “He had to work.” She wished they had time to talk, but it was starting.
The mayor of Steadfast took the podium and introduced Dr. Roswold. The doctor spoke of his medical mission in Angola, showing slides of patients and townspeople, Most were malnourished, and many had limbs blown off from land mines. Yet there were also pictures of a few standing next to the minimal hospital, bandages on their broken bodies, flashing wide smiles full of hope.
Hope amid total darkness.
Annies throat tightened so she could barely swallow. These poor people. She couldn't imagine living in such conditions, in such fear. And she also couldn't imagine being a person like Dr. Roswold, giving up a life of comfort in the States, a life of money and status, a nice home and the trappings of success. He was receiving none of the perks of being a doctor. Except the biggest one: helping others.
Loving others.
Annie was suddenly overwhelmed with the limits of her ability to love. God wanted her to love everyone, yet she couldn't even… If she couldn't even love her husband properly, how could she ever hope to love others in the world? She looked to her lap and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears.
“Annie?” Merry touched her arm.
All Annie could do was raise a hand slightly. I'll be all right. Maybe. Someday.
But how? It was as if she was trapped between two worlds, two loves. Two ways of life. It was as if she was in a love triangle. Love me! said Cal.
Love Me! said God. And love Cal. I want you to do both.
Annie pulled in a breath. The difference was laid out plain and clear. Cal wanted her to love him and him alone. But God wanted her to love Himself—and Cal. Surely that was the better way. The right way. Surely it was possible.
The speaker was wrapping up. “I know you may feel overwhelmed right now. There is much to be done, and the needs are great. You might think, ‘Oh no. Here's where he asks for money.’“He smiled. “And you'd be right. For that is how we can help from halfway around the world. But I'm asking you for more. I'm asking you for love. For that is limitless. As Shakespeare's fair Juliet said: ‘My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.’”
Dr. Roswold leaned on the podium, drawing them close. “We are asked to love much. We love our families, our friends, our country, our God, but we need to love even more. We need to love these people we will never meet, and help and pray for them as we are able.” He stood erect. “Thank you for listening.”
In the brief moment before the applause started, Annie made a decision. She would love both Cal and God. She would find a way. She had to find a way.
Lightness flowed through her, as if all that was heavy and burdensome was being collected in the passing and discarded where it could do no harm. She took a breath and actually felt it hit her lungs. She'd only felt such an infilling once before, on her knees, in a white tent, in a ball field…
She noticed baskets being passed for the collection. Without another thought she grabbed her purse from the floor. She didn't have any cash besides a few dollars. And that would not do. That would not be a valid representation of her love. She pulled out her checkbook and a pen then hesitated. How much should she give? Fifty? A hundred? Those amounts were pitiful tokens of the state of her heart.
Then another thought entered. Cal was always investing large chunks of money in get-rich-quick schemes. Wasn't this cause more worthy than any of those? Didn't this moment deserve a heady commemoration? Didn't it deserve a true sacrifice?
Annie readied her pen and let her hand take over. Let her heart take over.
Merry leaned close and saw the amount. “Annie! What are you doing?”
Im learning to love. She ripped the check off and folded it in half. She kept repeating the words so she wouldn't think about the amount she'd just given away. Im learning to love. Im learning to love.
She was glad when the basket came by and she could drop the check inside. Afterward, her hand shook and she calmed it in the care of its mate.
What had she done?
You loved.
Merry and Annie walked toward Annie's car. Merry wasn't sure what to say and didn't have a chance to say much. Annie was bubbling over with excitement about Dr. Roswold's hospital and what she'd just done—and her certainty that God had wanted her to do it. Her enthusiasm was wonderful and her generosity amazing. But also a bit of a concern. At such talks Merry guessed most people gave ten to twenty dollars. Perhaps they'd write a check for fifty, with the maximum contribution the rare hundred. But one thousand? She could picture Dr. Roswold's shock when he saw Annie's check. He'd probably wonder if it was for real. A joke.
The way Annie gushed, rehashing every point the doctor had made… Merry didn't doubt her sincerity and didn't want to quench her passion for giving. It was a good thing. It might even be a God-thing. Yet Merry's relief at seeing Annie return to God was tempered by the reality of what would happen when Cal found out.
Merry had once been on Cal's side of the faith issue, back before the crash that took the lives of her family. So she could guess how Cal would react—
“Yoo-hoo! Merry? Annie?” Blanche called from behind them. “Wait up.”
Blanche pulled Ivan along until they all met on the sidewalk near the curb. “So?” she said, out of breath. “What do you think? Ivan thinks the people in the slides were actors.”
“Surely not,” Merry said.
He shrugged. “I said it was a possibility. But I put my five bucks into the basket just like everybody else.”
Merry saw Annie's face go white. “Five dollars?” Annie said.
“I only had three, but that counts, too,” Blanche said.
Annie edged her way to a nearby bench. “I need to sit.”
“What's wrong?” Blanche asked.
“She's probably sick to her stomach from seeing those skinny, sickly people,” Ivan said.
Blanche hit him on the arm. “That proves they weren't actors, you old pea pod.”
“Not really. Haven't you ever heard of'starving artists'?”
“Oh, you—”
Merry left Annie on the bench and herded the couple away. “Would you two go back to the library and spell Harold? I'll be there in a minute.”
They both looked at Annie, their faces curious, but went on their way across the street, leaving Annie and Merry alone.
Merry took a seat next to her. Annie seemed oblivious, so she touched her arm.
Annie came to life. “Five dollars? And I gave a thousand?”
“It was a very generous gift.”
“But what will Cal say?”
“I don't know. What will he say?”
Annie slid a hand through her hair. “He'll go ballistic. He's already anti-God, anti-me-having-anything-to-do-with-God. Even the thought of me going to choir was too much for him.” She spun toward Merry. “Why did you let me do it? Why didn't you stop me?”
Merry wanted to defend herself but knew Annie didn't really blame her. They were questions born of panic. “You could probably put a stop payment on the check. You might even be able to catch Dr. Roswold and ask for it back.”
Annie looked as if she was only partly listening. She was staring back at the courthouse, the fingers of one hand resting on her chin.
“Can I tell you a story that might help?”
Annie nodded. “Anything. Please.”
Merry scooted back on the bench, creating a space between them. “You may not remember this. I don't talk about it much, but I was Cal.”
“What?”
“The scenario you're going throu
gh now with you being the believer and Cal being against God? That was Lou and me. Lou believed. I didn't. And I had no wish to believe.”
Annie's eyes lit with recognition. “I'd forgotten that. You're such a strong Christian now. I'd forgotten you were way different before the plane crash, before…”
“Before Lou and Justin were killed.”
Annie nodded.
Merry looked across the square toward the library, which had become such an important place in her life. Her new life. Moving to Steadfast had been a good decision. She couldn't imagine living in Kansas City, living in the home her family had shared. The image of Justin holding up a picture he'd colored flashed in her mind. “Looky, Mama! Do you like it?”
She closed her eyes against it. Not now. This was not a time for wallowing in her memories. This was a time for snatching out a specific memory to help her friend.
“Are you okay?”
Merry nodded. She traced a capital/someone had etched into a slat of the bench. Justin, Jesus… “Lou loved the Lord with his entire being, and he tried—unsuccessfully—to get me to love Him, too. I wouldn't budge.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. Merry tried to pinpoint her reasoning. It was hazy. “I think it mostly had to do with pride. With control. To do what Lou wanted me to do would have been to give up something of myself. To give in. To lose. As a busy wife and mother, I felt little was in my control anyway, so I took what I could.”
“That sounds a lot like Cal.”
“That's why I'm telling you. Lou made a big charity gesture once, too. We had an old car, and Lou decided to donate it to a safe home for women who needed transportation. We were planning on trading it in for a new one, but because he donated it, we had to come up with a few thousand more dollars to pay for its replacement. Which meant I couldn't get the dinette set I wanted. It caused a lot of problems. A lot of arguments.”
Annie pulled her hair away from her face and let it fall. “Cal wants to invest in a business with Bailey. That project is his dinette.”
Merry nodded. “The problem is, there's always something to spend the money on and rarely extra money sitting around to give away. But that's why it means so much to God. Because it's a sacrifice.”
“So I did good giving the thousand?”
Merry patted her hand. “You did good. But there are consequences.”
“I'm not fond of that word…”
“I'm just glad you're focused on God again. You scared me a bit in the diner the other day, saying you weren't coming to church because you weren't letting God break up your family. You were choosing Cal over God.”
Annie covered her face as if ashamed. “I was weary of the struggle. And with Cal having another woman—”
“You know that for sure?”
“Not for sure…”
“Remember, if he's guilty, he's the one in the wrong. Affairs are never justified. He should be groveling to you, asking your forgiveness.”
Annie leaned her head back, looking at the sky. “And wouldn't I like to have him do that. It would give me the control back. I'd have the power.” She lowered her chin and offered a small smile. “How I'd make him suffer.”
Merry laughed. “How human of you.”
“Yeah, well, I've got plenty of human traits racing full blast. I'm trying not to give in to them. I'm trying to do things the right way. That's why I took the blame for even the possibility of Cal's infidelity. That's why I'm trying so hard to save our marriage.”
“Blame can be shared, Annie. And so can forgiveness.” She tapped her leg with a finger. “I can guarantee you one thing.”
“What's that?”
“You don't have to—nor should you—give up God and your faith for your husband. For anyone. Put Jesus first, and all the Cal-stuff will fall into place.”
“When?”
“I have no idea.”
“You're some help.”
Merry remembered a saying that had helped her through waiting times. “God is never late and never early.”
“You could've fooled me.”
Merry sat back. “So what are you going to do about the check? I'll go with you to see Dr. Roswold.”
Annie shook her head. “Let's leave it. I truly felt God leading me to do it. I'll let Him get me through the consequences.”
How could she argue with that?
As they stood, Merry felt compelled to add one more thing. “Don't forget that God might have to do something drastic to get Cal's attention. He's a stubborn man, just like I was a stubborn woman.”
Annie swallowed slowly. “I sure hope its not a plane crash.”
Merry's thoughts exactly.
As soon as she got home, Annie transferred one thousand dollars from their savings to her checking account.
It was a done deal. No going back now.
Since she had to work the dinner shift, she didn't have time to tell Cal about the donation. On such days, they virtually passed at the kitchen door—her going out, him coming in early from work to take care of Avi. A kiss on the cheek. Bye, hon. Theres a hamburger-and-rice casserole in the oven—and one thousand less dollars in the savings account.
Forget that last bit. She hadn't said it, but she wanted to. Just have it out in the open so she wouldn't have to worry about it all night. Not that her resolve had wavered. It hadn't. She was proud to have followed God's direction. Now if only God would give her clear direction in how to reach Cal.
But as she served up plates and plates of the Mighty Meat Loaf dinner special at the Plentiful, she was dogged with the what-ifs of the unknown.
Actually, that wasn't true. She knew exactly how Cal would react. He'd blow up. He'd yell. He'd pace and shake the checkbook at her. And he'd ask, “What's gotten into you?”
And what would she tell him, plain and simple? “God. God's gotten into me, Cal. He wanted me to do it. We're supposed to love…
That's where the unknown kicked in. How would he react to that? She could guess. But maybe, just maybe, since God was behind her donation, He'd pull off some kind of miracle within her husband and make him back down and understand. If He could get Annie to give the money, surely He could get Cal to understand.
That was her prayer, oft repeated between coffee refills and small talk. Make Cal understand.
Please.
Cal stared at the computer screen. He'd just deposited the latest check he'd gotten for the Bon Vivant addition when he noticed the bank had made a horrible error. For some bizarre reason they had withdrawn one thousand dollars from the McFay savings account. Today.
Besides the newest check, there was only $718 left. That was it.
Impossible.
Cal picked up the phone, then realized the bank was closed. He'd call them first thing in the morning and let 'em have it. Then he suddenly had a horrible thought.
He switched screens, bringing up his checking account. Phew. It looked okay. He typed in Annie's account number.
A one-thousand-dollar deposit screamed at him.
His relief that the money had not disappeared into cyberspace— or in someone else's pocket—was tempered by his question of why? Why had a thousand dollars been transferred from their savings into Annie's checking?
You could bet a thousand dollars he'd find out.
You'd think that after ten years of being a waitress, Annie's legs and feet wouldn't hurt. But tonight they did. You'd have thought she was a rookie.
Was it because she was tense, worried about what she'd tell Cal about the thousand dollars? Or was it because she was eager to get home to help Avi get dressed in her princess costume for Halloween? Or were her legs anticipating the loads of walking they'd do tonight on the trick-or-treat run? Something had to give. Yet as she pulled into the driveway, she realized she would rather work another shift than go inside her own house.
Chicken.
She couldn't deny the title. One other thing she couldn't deny was her fatigue. The physical exhaustion combined with a do
se of brain mush from praying during every free thought made her want to curl onto the backseat and call it a night.
She glanced at the backseat longingly at the same time she grabbed the handle of the door. She had to do this. Get the confrontation with Cal done. For her own sanity.
She got out of the car, repeating her mantra all the way inside: Make Cal understand. Make Cal understand…
Cal sat at the kitchen table, not in his usual spot—with his back to the door—but in Avi's spot that faced the door. Head-on. Nothing was on the table in front of him. No cup of coffee, bowl of ice cream, not even a magazine. His hands were clasped. And the way his eyes bored into Annie as she came in, she knew the jig was up. There was only one reason he was sitting at that table, at that time, in that way.
He was waiting for her.
She managed to slip in one final Please, God as she hung her coat and purse on the rack behind the door. She took a few steps toward the table and wiped her palms on her uniform. “Hi, hon.”
His hands clasped each other more tightly. He took a breath that started in his toes, as if he'd been sitting there not breathing for a long, long time. He let it out.
Annie felt the need to fill the void. “Is Avi ready to go? I've already seen a few kids running to houses.” She went to the pantry and pulled out two bags of candy and emptied them into the popcorn bowl. “She's going to need to wear a jacket under her costume. I know she'll object, but it's nippy out there.”
He just stared at her. Its a bit nippy in here, too.
She couldn't take it any longer. She dropped her hands to her sides. Maybe if I act innocent—or at least ignorant. “Out with it. Why the glaring eyes?”
He blinked, letting his eyelids linger a moment in a closed position. When he opened them, three words came out. “One thousand dollars?”
The doorbell rang. Avi barreled down the stairs. “I'll get it!”
Annie grabbed the candy bowl and took a step toward the door. CaTs hand on her arm stopped her. “Answer me.”
Avi came running back and took the bowl away from her. “Its a monster and a clown!”
“One piece each, sweet-apple.”
Cal was still staring at her. Calmly volatile. She almost wished he would yell.