The Runaway Pastor's Wife

by Diane Moody

She shuffled back out to the great room to revive the embers in the massive stone fireplace. In no time at all, a blaze was crackling behind the hearth, finally warming her. She tossed the quilt back on the sofa and padded over to the kitchen. Unwrapping one of Mary Jean’s oatmeal muffins, she popped it into the microwave for a few seconds and started brewing a pot of hazelnut coffee. She poured a small glass of icy cold milk, wrapped the muffin in a napkin and headed back for the sofa.

  She sighed with contentment. This is heaven.

  She dismissed the tug in her soul, warding off the inevitable thoughts and truths she must face. Looking around, she marveled at the cozy and comforting ambiance around her. It was truly a beautiful retreat. Everywhere she looked were memorabilia from Christine’s life—bits and pieces of her hobbies, treasures from travels to distant lands, and an amazing array of her award-winning photographs from around the world. Antiques here and there mingled with more modern accessories, tastefully blended in a way only Christine could pull off. Candles in every size and shape graced every surface of the room. Signature Christine.

  Annie finished off the glass of milk and headed back to the kitchen for a mug of coffee. Finally settling down on the cream-colored sofa, she plopped her feet up on the coffee table, covered her legs once more with the quilt, and sunk down in the cushions to relax. She stared into the fire, realizing this was exactly how she had fallen asleep the night before.

  It felt so incredibly good to be here. And yet, she felt plagued by the emotions still harboring inside. She wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. For now she needed only the soothing knowledge that there were no schedules to keep, no calls to make, no meetings or lunches required, no laundry to fold, no crisis to resolve—and no absent husband to be mad at. If she chose to sit in this very spot all day and all night, it was perfectly all right.

  And for now, it was enough.

  Seminole, Florida

  David’s head throbbed. He felt awful. He hadn’t slept more than fifteen minutes at a stretch all night, and the day was creeping by equally as bad. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting in his easy chair. His worn, leather Bible was spread across his lap, but he couldn’t remember what it was he last read. He rubbed his eyes wearily and scratched the day’s growth on his chin. The quiet ticking of the grandfather clock irritated him.

  He shut his burning eyes, leaning back on the headrest. Just then he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling around to the garage.

  Mom’s back.

  Caroline had left the house several hours earlier to run some errands, or so she said. He knew she needed to pack a bag for her indefinite stay with them, but he wasn’t fooled by her supposed need to run errands. She wanted to give him some solitude before the kids came home from school.

  Time to think. To pray.

  He wanted to believe that last night was nothing more than a bizarre nightmare. It wasn’t real, was it? Over and over, his mind replayed the previous evening. With the night mercifully behind him now, David shook his head hoping to get rid of the sense of helplessness that engulfed him. He ran his hand through his hair then stood up, stretching his arms over his head.

  “David, are you up?”

  “In here, Mom,” he answered. He could hear the crinkling of the grocery bags settling on the kitchen counter.

  “David, I’ve been thinking.” She stopped in the doorway, placing a hand on her hip.

  “Good. I’m glad one of us still has the ability.”

  “Now, don’t start. Listen to me. You and I must be very careful how we handle this whole thing with the kids.”

  “I know. I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

  Caroline turned back around. “Come in here while I put the groceries away. I’ll make you a cup of tea. We need to talk.”

  What would I ever do without her? He lumbered over to the counter, hopping up to sit on it.

  Caroline unpacked a variety of packages and produce from the paper bags. “Part of me wishes we could lie through our teeth about this whole thing. Tell them Annie went to visit her sister in Vermont who just had a baby.”

  David crinkled his face in confusion. “Annie doesn’t have a sister in Vermont. She doesn’t have a sister anywhere, so I know there certainly can’t be a new baby.”

  “I know that, son, but it sure would’ve made it a lot easier if she did.” Her smile was vaguely mischievous.

  “Great. I’ll be sure to bring that up when she calls. Or I guess I should say if she calls.”

  “You know, you aren’t making this any easier with comments like that,” she answered, leveling her gaze at him over her glasses.

  “Okay, okay. Go on.”

  “The thing is, I despise people who lie and I know that God isn’t too keen on it either. Which, as far as I’m concerned, rules out that option.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “I suggest being totally up front with them. Tell them she needed a little getaway vacation. Remind them that everyone needs a break now and then, and she’s getting one right now. Be as honest as you can possibly be with them, David. But I don’t think it’s necessary for them to know anything more.”

  David stared out the window at a bright cardinal feasting on the miniature log-cabin bird feeder. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, absently picking at the worn knee of his jeans. “Jessie doesn’t miss much for a kid her age. What do I say if she digs for more answers?” he said, jumping down from the counter and pacing the floor. “And you know Max will drill us. And what do I say when the questions start flooding in from church members? They’re going to wonder where she is. Mom, these people know me! They know I don’t lie. How will I ever be able to do this? I can’t face a hundred questions. I can’t do this.” He stopped, plopping down into a ladder-back chair at the kitchen table. He rustled his hair again then rubbed his face.

  Caroline walked over to her son, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. “David, did you hear yourself just now? ‘I can’t do this.’ Of course you can’t! But you know you are not alone. Aren’t you the guy who’s always preaching to us how God is most able to work in our lives when we come to the realization we cannot do it ourselves? That we are totally dependent on Him? So how about letting Him take over and intervene for this shepherd?” She poked his chest with her forefingers.

  David dropped his head again. Caroline wrapped her arms around him, hugging him with all her strength. “Besides, you have your old, white-haired mother here for you, remember? And I’ll be here for as long as you need me. So don’t even think about carrying this thing alone, okay? Between you, me and the Lord, we’ll make it through this.”

  David finally responded, hugging his mother. “You’re pretty feisty for an old, white-haired mother, did you know that?”

  “Hey, I earned every single one of these white hairs and I’m mighty proud of each and every one. Now, what do you say we hit our knees and spend some time with the Lord since He’s the one with all the answers?”

  “Caroline? Is that you, dear? Did I dial your number by mistake?”

  Caroline took a deep breath before responding, “Why, hello Darlene. What a nice surprise.”

  Even as the words slipped out of her mouth, Caroline winced at what she knew was an untruth. She offered up a silent apology to the Lord. “No, you didn’t dial wrong. I just happened to be here and was by the phone in the kitchen when it rang. How are you, Darlene?”

  To call it a “strained” relationship would be a generous description at best. Annie’s mother was the kind of in-law every parent dreads. More like a blight joining the family tree. Fortunately, Annie was nothing at all like her mother, favoring instead her father who had died when she was only ten. Thank goodness she had been a “daddy’s girl” from the day she was born. Caroline often wondered how such a dear child could ever descend from such an insufferable matriarch.

  Darlene no doubt meant well. She simply had the uncanny knack of stirring up a hornet’s nest where there weren’t any hornets wit
hin miles. David called it the “spiritual gift of aggravation.”

  Caroline quickly tried to think how best to divert Darlene without compounding her previous half-truth. One thing she knew: Darlene must not find out that Annie had left. At least not yet.

  This would have to be creative.

  Darlene jumped right in, “Oh Caroline, I’m fine! Just fine! Randolph and I just got back from our trip to Australia. Annie did tell you we were going, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she—”

  “Well, we had the most WONDERFUL time! It’s such an AMAZING country, Caroline. You just HAVE to go one of these days. Oh! I know! You could go on one of those Merry Widow cruises. Wouldn’t that be terrific? And who knows, Caroline, maybe you’ll meet some handsome, debonair, RICH widower! You know, like on those Love Boat reruns. Wouldn’t that be just wonderful?”

  Caroline sat on one of the kitchen stools. She uttered another quick prayer for patience. Wisdom alone wouldn’t cut it.

  “Darlene, I’d never thought of that. Who knows—maybe I’ll look into it one of these days.”

  “Say! Caroline, I’ll be going by our travel agent’s office tomorrow. I’ll just check on that for you. See when the next widow’s cruise goes to Australia!”

  “Oh thank you, Darlene, but—”

  “Oh, nonsense, Caroline. No need to thank me. Glad to help in any way I can. Say, is Annie there? I haven’t had a chance to chat with my baby girl since I got back. Thought I might stop by in a little while if she’s going to be there and tell her all about our trip. We’ll have everyone over sometime soon to see the videos we took, but for now I just MUST see Annie. Oh, say, Caroline, you come on over too when we show the videos. You’ll get the bug for Australia if you do! Such a BEAUTIFUL country, and you’d just love their adorable accents! We recorded lots of them saying things in that cute little accent. They all sound just like that Crocodile Hunter on TV, God rest his soul. Oh, it was SO funny—I’d stop one of them on the street, ask for directions and Randolph would start taping our conversation, and—”

  Does she ever breathe?

  “—then I’d get to chatting with them. You know me—I’ll talk to a chair if no one’s around!” Darlene burst into laughter. Caroline arched her eyebrows as she rolled her eyes, the phone cradled on her shoulder.

  “Oh goodness me! I just keep Randolph in stitches! Caroline? Are you still there, dear?”

  “I’m here, Darlene,” Caroline answered, biting off the sarcastic response bouncing around her head.

  Darlene continued. “Oh dear, I’ve just been carrying on so and you haven’t had a chance to get a word in edgewise, as Mama used to say. But then you know me—yak, yak, yak! Hardly have time to breathe!”

  Oh really?

  “Caroline, honey, are you all right?”

  “Oh, I’m just fine, Darlene. Just a little weary, that’s all.”

  “Yes, I know, dear,” Darlene said, sliding into her syrupy sympathetic tone. “You must be just devastated since Wade had that awful heart attack and left you.”

  “Well, now, Darlene, I’m really getting along just fine. After all, it’s been almost a year since—”

  Darlene sucked in a shrill burst of air. “NOT REALLY! Has it really been a YEAR? You poor dear! Well, all I can say is, we’ve just got to do something about that. I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. I’m going to finish unpacking today and then tomorrow I’m going to spend the whole day with you! Why, we’ll just go shopping and go eat a fabulous lunch at The Club, maybe even indulge ourselves and to go The Dessert Tray for some kind of sinfully good dessert! Oh—unless you’re still dieting? Are you still watching your weight, dear?”

  Caroline slammed the receiver down. For a moment she just stared at the phone, not believing the audacity of the woman behind that voice. Lord! I just can’t handle her today! Give me strength.

  Ring.

  “I’m so sorry, Darlene, we got cut off. Listen, I’ve got to run anyway. Annie’s not here right now but I’ll leave a note that you called. Bye!”

  CHAPTER 8

  Eagle’s Nest

  Annie reached for the blue and white checked dish towel hanging inside the cabinet door below her. She wiped her eyes, now blurred with tears. She laughed out loud. With everything else on her mind, the last thing she expected to bring tears to her eyes were onions.

  She finished dabbing her eyes then scraped the chopped onions off the cutting board and into the deep pot of sizzling ground beef. For some reason, she had craved homemade chili since she first set foot in this winter paradise. She couldn’t wait to smell the mixture of spices, beef, and tomatoes.

  Drying her hands on the towel, she ambled over to the entertainment center to find some suitable music. Christine’s taste in music knew no boundaries so the selection was limitless—Billy Joel, Madonna, Pavarotti, Garth Brooks, Michael Jackson, Springsteen, Big Band, the London Symphony Orchestra . . . it was all there and more.

  And suddenly, Annie was transported back to another day and time. Oklahoma State University—the year, 1981. In the huge university arena which normally housed raucous basketball games, she was surrounded by all her friends and thousands of students from her campus. The driving beat and killer tunes of The Police entertained them long into the autumn night.

  Annie realized she was smiling. The memories of that night rolled tenderly through her mind like the gentle tide on the beach back home.

  That night, they had laughed and sung and danced in the aisles. The blaring guitars and pounding drums pressed them upward like a thousand hands reaching up to lift the roof off the arena. She could see Christine, decked out in an oversized sweatshirt and her favorite jeans, her thick blonde hair a splash of curls in constant motion. Always the carefree spirit, she was dancing up and down the aisle with any willing partner. At one point a “gorgeous hunk of a man,” as Christine would later describe him, grabbed her hand and pulled her to the front of the auditorium near the stage. For a few minutes Annie couldn’t see her through the throng of wild fans surrounding them. Suddenly, there was Christine—on stage with her new-found friend, dancing in perfect choreography to the driving beat of the music. That was Christine—right at home in front of a massive sea of strangers and side by side with Sting.

  Only Christine.

  Those years were jam-packed with good times and great friends. Life was one big party with an occasional exam thrown in the mix. No worries about tomorrow, no regrets about yesterday. Just happy in the here and now.

  Annie scanned through the enormous CD rack to find Sting’s Greatest Hits and gently placed it into the system. As the smooth melody of Fields of Gold filled the room, she made her way back to the kitchen. She quickly tossed the remaining ingredients into the chili and turned the heat down to let it simmer for an hour. After cleaning her mess, she made a cup of tea then headed for a look out the window. The snow continued to blow, but it appeared to be slowing at the moment. She would take a walk in a little while if it got no worse. The frigid air would be refreshing. Besides, she was dying to build a snowman, though even thinking of it made her feel a little guilty.

  She pressed her forehead against the cold pane of glass and inwardly scolded herself. Coming up here was a pretty selfish thing to do. Think how much David and the kids would love it here. The kids have never even seen snow except on TV.

  And at that moment, a voice spoke quietly inside her head.

  Annie, it’s all right for you to build a snowman. And it’s all right for you to be here, to have some time to yourself. Quit beating yourself up and just relax. You needed Me—and this is how you felt you must find Me. I am here for you.

  With only the slightest shiver down her back, she felt strangely calm. This was nice. Yes, this was good. Yet, something stubborn was tugging at her heart. She had avoided the thoughts and feelings dammed up inside her long enough.

  It was time to face the volcano inside.

  The scripture came to her mind at once. Come to Me, all you
who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest . . . for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. She clung to the words as though lost at sea, clinging to a life raft. She had to believe those words even though doubts assailed her. She needed to believe those words.

  Annie turned off the music and returned to her spot on the sofa. The sense of dread about confronting this moment had diminished. Now, taking God at His word, she allowed the door to her heart to gently open.

  I don’t even know where to begin, Lord. I’ve tried so desperately to bury these thoughts for so long, and now when I need to uncover them, I don’t seem to know where to start. God, You alone know the pain that has burned inside me all these months. You alone know all the feelings I have experienced. Show me, God. Open my eyes to examine all of it. Don’t let me hold anything back anymore. God, I’m begging You to help me. Give me strength to do this.

  Once again, in the depths of her soul, the familiar words of the Psalmist spoke to her heart. I lift up my eyes unto the hills—from whence does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

  She took a deep breath and tried to clear her head. This was not going to be easy. When did it first begin? She closed her eyes, mentally watching a parade of faces and situations. It was like walking down a long, dark corridor lined with doors on either side. Doors she had barricaded. But she knew healing would only come as she unlocked each and every one of them. Skimming through her journal on the plane, she had cracked open a few of those doors. Now it was time to face the memories and individuals behind every single one of them.

  The apprehension crawled back into her heart. Any one of these doors would stir up a myriad thoughts and feelings she had kept safely entombed. Annie shook her head, as if she could toss aside the months—no, years—of unacknowledged bitterness that had given root to these painful thorns in her soul. She sprang up to stoke the fire, poking the logs with unusual force, causing a fierce blaze to roar against the hearth. She stood transfixed, staring into the flames, surprised by her racing heart rate.