“Yes, you need time together to fix this, and I believe you can do that best together, platonically for now.” Pastor Lewis’s eyes narrowed, and Michael wished the man would go back to talking to Jeanie. “But if your wife calls me, even once, I will personally come and throw you out, at which point you will do your counseling from separate addresses. And we will begin counseling immediately. Together for now, the three of us, at least once a week. I may decide you need individual counseling as we go along. I can come here early in the morning or whenever is most convenient. I’m not leaving Jeanie to contend with you on her own.”
Knowing these were rules he needed, Michael agreed quickly.
Jeanie was too busy blowing up the bat to voice what Mike was sure would be a protest.
Maybe she was looking so forward to whacking him and throwing him out, she’d actually let him move in. Then all he had to do was be perfect, and he could stay. Praying silently for God to renew the miraculous healing of his temper, Mike knew it wouldn’t be easy.
God, You know I need supernatural control. Help me to be a better person. Help me to find joy in kindness. I need You to be with me every second of every day.
“And now, Michael, we’re going to talk about your sinful treatment of your wife, one of the smartest, sweetest, hardest-working women I’ve ever known. She has a beautiful heart for the Lord, and her gift is to serve others, one of Jesus’ highest callings, and you’ve taken advantage of that.”
The pastor was off, and by the time he was done telling some hard truths, all based on Michael’s own confessions of last night, Michael felt like a worm—which he was.
“True strength doesn’t come from anger and domination. True strength comes from self-sacrifice and patience. Jeanie is much closer to true strength than you. You think it proves you’re strong when you bully her, but it doesn’t. You’re a weakling.”
Michael was squirming in his chair, humiliated in front of his wife.
Then the pastor turned his fire and brimstone eyes on Jeanie. “And you think he’s strong and you’re weak. But there’s nothing weak about the woman I know. You’re a child of God, a precious creation. God calls us to be humble, but true humility doesn’t mean you allow denigration and abuse. It means you stand strong enough against Michael to not allow him to sin.”
He included them both as he finished. “The point of the bat is to remind Michael he’s off track. It’s Jeanie trying to help you. She could do that as well by holding up her hand or leaving the room.”
“But that wouldn’t be as much fun.” Jeanie clutched the bat and looked at Michael until Michael was almost afraid to move. She was just looking for an excuse to whack him.
“And it doesn’t matter if you think she’s wrong, if you think she’s being too harsh. The whole point of this is to hear her, to listen, to respect her feelings. Right or wrong, she’s entitled to voice an opinion. If she’s feeling controlled, then you need to figure that out and stop whatever you’re doing and apologize and shape up.”
“Now, I’m going to give you an assignment to work on tonight. Write down all the things you love about each other and share those lists while you’re alone.”
“That won’t take long.”
Michael didn’t remember Jeanie having such a sarcastic sense of humor.
“Now, let’s pray.”
When the pastor finished, he said, “Michael, you’re going to spend the day with Jeanie. I know Monday is a busy day for her, and you’ve admitted you’re unemployed.”
Michael flinched. Pastor Bert made it sound as if Michael were a homeless vagrant. He’d made a fortune selling his company. With building contracts stretching out two years, there’d been a bidding war to buy it. Plus he’d inherited more from his well-to-do parents. If he was smart, he could live comfortably for the rest of his life. And Michael knew he was, indeed, very smart.
Pastor Bert glared at Michael in a way that made him feel stupid. He had to fight to keep from sliding lower in his chair. “I want you to spend the day being a witness to your wife’s beautiful servant’s heart. So, whatever she does today, wherever she goes, you go along.”
Then the pastor turned to Jeanie. “Bring the bat.”
five
She hadn’t whacked him yet, but neither had she spoken to him.
Pastor Bert accompanied them to the Cold Creek Nursing Home and stayed through the first half of the Monday morning worship service. The social room of the nursing home was a brightly lit place filled with people who were, for the most part, sleeping.
“Good morning, Mrs. Tippens. How are you?” Jeanie crouched so her face was at a level Mrs. Tippens could see. The woman was so bent over in her wheelchair she had her chin resting nearly on her lap.
Michael was stunned as he watched Jeanie work the crowd. She knew all of the residents by name, had personal words for them, asked about their children and their health—even though half of them didn’t react. When she’d touched nearly every shoulder, she took her place behind the piano, laying her bat on the low top of the spinet.
Michael hadn’t known she could play. Maybe she couldn’t when they’d been together.
He stood at the back of the sitting area with no idea what he should do. Pastor Bert stood in front of a semicircle of occupied wheelchairs and couches. He led a few hymns while Jeanie played the out-of-tune piano. Then the pastor told Jeanie and the three other women helping with the service to carry on.
On his way out of the door, the pastor stopped and patted Michael on the back. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the Golden Days Senior Center at 6:00 a.m. to go over your lists.”
He must be afraid to let them go two days without being observed. Smart man.
As Jeanie and her friends worked their way through the service, Michael wondered what he’d write on his list. What did he love about Jeanie? Why had he seen her and wanted her immediately?
He knew the truth was brutal. She was pretty. And she gave in to peer pressure out of a desperate hunger for approval. The second had been her most attractive trait. He prayed for God to let him take his batting like a man when he told her that.
Then it dawned on him that there was a lot more to Jeanie now than there had been then. Mainly because, without his telling her every move to make, she’d found herself and become a far more interesting person than the one he’d created.
He’d created? Michael flinched. Talk about playing God.
Michael was glad he didn’t have to make a list of the things he loved about himself. Right now he wasn’t sure he could come up with a single one.
After the service was wrapped up and Jeanie had taken time to tell each listener good-bye, one of the other church women—Pastor Bert had introduced her as Mrs. Herne, the mayor’s wife—gave Jeanie a hug. “It’s so nice to meet your husband.”
Jeanie shrugged. “We’ve been separated. Michael wants to reconcile.” She looked at him, her hand clutching the neck of her bat balloon, not even pretending they weren’t talking about him. He walked over as Jeanie went on. “It’s a bad idea, though. We had a terrible marriage. We’re both new Christians now, but we married for all the wrong reasons, and we brought out the worst in each other.”
Michael came to her side. “Hello, Mrs. Herne.” He offered a hand.
The woman, about twenty years older than Jeanie, gave him a kind smile. “It’s Carolyn. I hope you two can figure things out. Remember that with God all things are possible.”
Jeanie spared one testy glare at Michael. “Meaning it will take a miracle to ever make me want to be married to you again.”
Michael kept a smile on his face by sheer willpower.
“We’ve got a funeral at church tomorrow,” Mrs. Herne said.
“Yes, I heard Myra passed away.”
“Would you be able to bring something? Bars or sandwiches?”
Michael opened his mouth to tell the woman Jeanie was already too busy and any spare time she had needed to be spent with him.
The bat
settled on Jeanie’s shoulder, and Michael didn’t voice his opinion. “I’ll bring bars. I’ll be down to help, too, as soon as we’re done with lunch at the center. Pastor Bert seems to want Michael to stay nearby for a while, so he can come along.”
“Thank you.” The redheaded woman split her smile between Jeanie and Michael. “We really appreciate it.” She left.
A second woman came up. “I heard you talking about Myra. I knew she was failing, but I hadn’t heard she’d died.”
Jeanie nodded. “Late yesterday.”
“We’re having a planning meeting for the Memorial Day celebration tonight. We’d love to have you there.”
“I’ll be there. Michael, too.”
Michael turned to Jeanie. “I had hoped we could spend some time together tonight.”
Jeanie narrowed her eyes. “Hope all you want.”
The last church woman gave Jeanie a quick hug and invited her to tea when she had a free minute. They both laughed as if they knew that would never happen.
Jeanie said a final good-bye to her sleeping congregation.
Michael had to admit several of the elder folks had sung along with the old standard hymns, and he’d been moved by that. Jeanie was doing something worthwhile.
She left the building without looking back.
Michael felt a spurt of irritation as he scrambled to keep up with her.
As Jeanie strode across the paved parking lot, swinging her bat in time to some military march music, Michael had to jog to catch up to her. They reached the street, and Jeanie turned left. There were no sidewalks in this residential section of Cold Creek, but no traffic either, so walking in the street seemed safe enough.
“Where are we going?”
Jeanie glared. “How did you end up getting Pastor Bert to let you stay with me? It’s a terrible idea. The only reason I didn’t fuss about it is you won’t last a single night. If you have to leave as soon as you lose your temper, we won’t even get through one meal.” She looked forward and picked up her pace.
Michael hesitated to ask where they were going again. It didn’t matter anyway. He’d just follow her wherever. “So, what’s the schedule for today?”
She whacked him with the bat.
six
It had to be a sin. It felt too good.
Forgive me, God. I’ll wait until he’s got it coming.
That shouldn’t take long.
“Jeanie, while we walk, talk to me about Sally. Please.”
She turned on him, and he flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face. Oops, the tingle of joy told her she was sinning again.
“Please, I’m not going to say a word about your choices. I just want to know how she’s doing.”
Jeanie walked on, lengthening her stride. Of course that long-legged jerk Michael kept up easily. Sally was his daughter, even though he’d been as rotten a father as a child had ever been saddled with.
Fine.
“She’s five, almost done with kindergarten. She lives out on Wyatt Shaw’s ranch. He’s her father, and he’s a good man. A fifth-generation rancher. Buffy’s really happy with him. They’ve got cattle and buffalo on the ranch, and Buffy’s made a really nice tourist destination out of the buffalo. Plus they’ve started supplying a string of really top-flight restaurants all across the country.”
Michael shoved his hands in his pockets. She could tell by his clenched jaw that he wasn’t happy with her, probably because she was talking about Buffy, not Sally.
“She started half-day kindergarten last fall. She goes to Peaceful Mountain Church, and I see her every Sunday. She calls me Aunt Jeanie, and I know her really well. I babysit sometimes. Wyatt has twin sons older than Sally, and Wyatt and Buffy have a baby of their own.”
“Four kids, huh?”
“Yes. Sally is really happy. She’s got a great life. She doesn’t know she’s adopted.”
“How can she not?”
“I moved in with Buffy right after you left. Sally was eighteen months old. She bonded with Buffy immediately, and I let it happen. I didn’t even care that I was losing my daughter. I thought I deserved it. Sally knows I’m”—Jeanie shrugged, not sure how to put it into words—“special. We’ve developed a truly loving relationship. Buffy wants to tell her the truth when the time is right.”
Michael nodded and didn’t comment. Jeanie hated that. She really could have used an excuse to swing away. “She’s blond like I was. Short for her age, but not overly. She’s just beautiful, Michael. Happy, bright, she already reads a little. And she can count to one hundred with only a few numbers missing and write her name. She got your brains, praise the Lord.”
“My IQ is probably high, but if they measure brains by the way you use them, then I’m an idiot, and we both know it.”
Jeanie’s heart twisted at Michael’s words. How she’d have loved those words years ago. Now it seemed as if her heart was dead. She could fear him, she could despise him, but she just couldn’t love him. Her love for him had cost her too much.
She turned up a side street lined with tall oaks. The sun was warm for spring. Rugged mountains hugged the little town. Sluggish Cold Creek, which gave the town its name, was visible between the trees on the south side of town as Jeanie led the way toward Main Street. It was a picture postcard of a town, tucked into the majestic Black Hills of South Dakota. Jeanie felt as if her peace, although it came from God, was nurtured by the beauty that surrounded her.
And with that peace came a trickle of courage. “One of the things I’d put on that list of why I loved you was because you were a tyrant. I needed that. It was part of being emotionally sick. I’m healthier now, but I don’t feel strong enough to stand up to you.”
“Jeanie, you’re not going to need to do that.”
She slammed the bat into his hip just on principle. She never broke her stride. “I believe you intend to be a partner in this marriage. You’re sincere when you talk about your faith, but that means you’re no longer the man I married. God has changed your heart and mine. He’s created new people out of the ashes of the unhealthy marriage we had. Now you’re like a stranger to me. A stranger who is living in my house. I hate that.”
Jeanie stopped in the middle of the street. She saw a car coming two blocks away, the first that she’d seen in the middle of a work day at Cold Creek. It turned off before she needed to move to the side.
She crossed her arms to face Michael. “If you’re not the tyrant I loved, then who are you? I might as well just pick a guy out at random and have him move in. I don’t want you so close to me. I don’t want any man, but most of all I don’t want you.” Jeanie stared at his handsome face. She’d fallen for him the first time he’d smiled at her. She’d been forbidden to date before she turned sixteen, but they’d started sneaking around together long before.
“I’m still the same man, Jeanie. My heart has changed. I’m a hard worker. I’m faithful. I’ve never cheated on you. I’m honest. Those are all part of me. Maybe, if we can get past that strange codependent thing we had where we found an almost sick pleasure in fighting and making up, we can rediscover the best of ourselves.”
“I like being alone. I don’t want to have a man or another child, ever. I blew my chance with Sally and you. I don’t deserve another one.”
Michael reached out and rested one hand on her arm. He didn’t try to hang on or pull her close. Her bat was handy if he did. “Of course you deserve another chance. God forgives us. Everything about being a Christian is second chances.”
Jeanie couldn’t stand him touching her, so she turned and started moving again. Faster than ever.
Michael kept up. “You look fantastic. More beautiful than ever.”
She swung the bat at his head and hoped it stung.
Michael smoothed his hair. “Why’d you do that?”
“Don’t try to sweet-talk me. It makes my skin crawl.” The truth was it made her skin shiver. Not at all like crawling.
How long had it been since a man
had spoken flattering words to her? There’d been a few men in the last year, since she’d quit running and settled back in Cold Creek, who’d shown some interest. But she had mastered freezing men out. How galling to think she might have made herself vulnerable to Michael by her self-enforced loneliness. But what else could she have done? She was a married woman. She couldn’t exactly date even if she’d wanted to—which she didn’t.
She needed a bigger bat. Maybe oak. Better still—aluminum.
Main Street was coming up. The walk from the senior center was just under a mile. Jeanie didn’t own a car, so she made the trek twice a day at least. The Golden Days Senior Center was just around the corner ahead. She felt like that was her goal, that she’d be safe when she arrived. But she was kidding herself. All of her trouble came right along with her. And it—he—had longer legs than she did. She had no more chance of escape than a cupcake at fat camp.
She met a couple of neighbors as she rounded the corner to Main Street. The post office was there, and it was more likely to have traffic than any other place in town.
She greeted her neighbors, and they had time to get her to agree to head the craft committee and the talent show for the Memorial Day celebration. She promised again to come to the planning committee meeting tonight.
She felt Michael biting his tongue. Only the presence of witnesses kept her bat in check. But that wouldn’t have saved him if he’d spoken. She didn’t give a hoot if she embarrassed him.
They moved on toward the center, and Michael hustled a bit to grab the door and hold it for her. Nice manners. “You always were a gentleman, except when it came to treating me like a badly behaved child. Just that one little thing, endless emotional battering. Otherwise, Mr. Charm.”
“Jeanie, I’m sorry.”
Stepping into the center, she didn’t reply. “Ten thirty. I’m right on time to put the final touches on dinner. So, you know how to peel potatoes?”
“Yes.”
Jeanie sniffed. “I don’t remember you ever helping with that at home. Did becoming a Christian make you start doing women’s work?”
Bossy Bridegroom Page 3