“It’s music.” I turned back to face the water.“Want to tell me how you found me?”
“Want to tell me what you’re doing out here?”
She had followed me. Her question was proof. She had followed people for years. I just never realized until that moment she had perfected the art of spying on me.“Thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“Thinking about how life sucks.”
“Savannah Phillips, what did you say?”
“If you would let me finish, I was going to say . . . I was thinking about how life sucks the life right out of you.And your breath smells rank!”
“It’s garlic and parmesan.”
“No? Really? And you ate it yesterday. What should that tell you about that stuff?”
“You are pitiful.”
I didn’t offer a different analysis. That one felt accurate.
“How long have you been in love with Joshua?” She used the tone that she always gets when she’s about to turn into a friend instead of a mother. It’s more sympathetic and not quite as Southern. Imagine that.
I jerked my head around to look into her eyes, which were staring right through me.“I should ask how long you’ve known.”
“Since the other night at dinner.”
“There’s no way.You all thought he was there to see Amber.”
“Give me a break, Savannah. Amber’s the only one who didn’t realize that Joshua wasn’t there to see her.”
Mother’s discernment continued to amaze.“Now, why would you say that?”
“Well, first, because he never looked at her; second, because he only looked at you; and third, because you chatted like Chatty Cathy, which you always do when you get nervous; and fourth, because you ate a total of two bites of your favorite meal around here. And the last one alone would have been proof enough.”
I threw my head down on my arms, which were resting on the railing. “I think I’m completely in love with him. Who knows? Maybe I even liked him the day he almost ran me over and started tormenting me with his quirky smile and his annoying comments. I mean, the day he knelt by my desk and consoled me over my horrible debut story, he was so goofy and charming. And I know you hate him, Mother, but—”
“Savannah, I don’t hate Joshua.” She said this convincingly enough, causing me to raise my head. “Granted, he needs a few minor lessons in editing his pieces before they go to print”—she caught herself—“but I don’t hate him, darling. I don’t hate people. I just deal with them. With whatever means are necessary.” Not that I knew a single soul who wanted to be on the other end of “whatever means are necessary.”
“Well, I hate him!”
“Why do you hate him?” she asked, forcing me to catch a whiff of her parmesan and garlic breath. That stuff was rancid.
“If we are going to talk, you have to promise not to breathe on me.” She puffed harder. She could be completely obnoxious. “I hate him because I’m such an idiot,” I said, slapping my hands on my forehead.“Just a complete idiot.”
“Why do you hate him because you’re an idiot?”
I raised my eyebrow at her.
“Don’t sass me, child.”
“Because he’s not what I thought. And it’s better to find out now than to be like Kate and get married only for him to wake up one day and decide he doesn’t want to be married anymore. Or to be like Manuel and have your spouse get tired of you and have an affair with a . . . with a banker!” I wailed then. Every pent-up emotion rushed to the surface. I lost all control. I had officially become Amber.
“You are not saying Lucy had an affair,” Mother asked in horror.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Now your world’s completely wrecked too, isn’t it?”
“Darling.” She laughed softly. “No one is ever what we think they are. Everyone has issues that you won’t know until years down the road.There are things in your father I still uncover every day.”
“Please don’t tell me what they are. I will be damaged.”
“And things don’t just happen in marriage, no matter how much someone wants to believe that. There are always little signs. The pulling away. The silent dinners. The unreciprocated touches. But love requires faith.”
“I’m plumb out.” I sniffled, pulling the sleeve of my T-shirt up to wipe my nose.
“Please don’t ever let me have to observe that again,” she said with her face contorted. She recovered quickly.“Savannah Phillips, you have more faith than 90 percent of the people I know.”
“But not for myself.”
“Well, you’ll never have love if you don’t have faith. And be honest with yourself: you don’t hate Joshua.You’re madly in love with him.”
I sighed heavily.“No, I don’t hate him. I just hate the fact that I’m the only one in this entire whacked universe who actually thought she would marry a virgin. Now, if that isn’t whacked in and of itself, here I’m talking about him being the kind of man I want to marry when we’ve had only one unofficial date. And it wasn’t for hanky-panky, no matter what you might believe.”
“Savannah, don’t mock me.” She nudged my shoulder playfully.“ I know you didn’t do such a thing. I could tell by the look of horror on your face when I confronted you. And it’s okay, darling, to want things in life. It’s okay to want your husband to have never known another woman. And if you feel like that is a criteria of yours, then I will respect that decision as well. But you do need to know that people aren’t perfect, and life isn’t perfect. Even tans aren’t perfect.” She eyed me knowingly.
I eyed her back.“This coming from the woman who married perfection and whose life is perfect.”
“Your father isn’t perfect, despite what you think, Savannah. Now, he’s pretty doggone close, I must agree, but the man . . . well he has his own failures.”
“I don’t want to know them.”
“Okay, then I’ll tell you yours. Yours are thinking that life won’t have them. That marriage is perfect. That you get perfection from imperfect people. No, all you get are imperfect people trying to make things work the best they know. And if Joshua doesn’t fail you now, he’ll fail you later.”
“But what if it’s a failure that leads us to divorce?”
“There are no guarantees in this life, Savannah. People will make horrible choices. Some will ignore every tug on their heart and walk away from everything that is right. But all you can do is make it clear that divorce isn’t an option for your marriage. And don’t get married unless you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s the man destined for you. That kind of certainty will keep you sane when other things won’t.”
She wasn’t to be stopped.“And you’ll fail him. But you don’t have to let something that isn’t perfect keep you from the perfect thing.”
Her words hung in the air like the smell of manure. Hard to handle but full of good stuff for growth.
“What went on between the two of you the other night at dinner, without any words, was exactly what happened with me and your father. I saw a different Savannah.”
“How?”
“I saw your vulnerable glances and how you were completely incapable of keeping your eyes off of him.”
I raised my eyebrow.
“Well, those are two traits lost on you.”
“Wonder how in the world I got so screwed up,” I asked the source of my screwed-upness.
“Some children just learn these things.”Well, that couldn’t be defended. “Joshua loves you, baby girl. I can see it all over his handsome face.”
“Well, love isn’t always enough, Mother.”
“No, the emotion of love isn’t, Savannah. But the decision to love always is. And trust me, many years are spent loving because of decision alone.” She stared at me revealing her own ability to be completely vulnerable.“Just ask your father.”
With those words she revealed that she actually had knowledge of her own imperfections. This changed the playing field.
&
nbsp; “But what if I think about it all the time and I can’t ever get past it?”
“Savannah, be serious. Now, how many times have I done things that have hurt you or embarrassed you?”
“You’re not serious.”
“Yes, I’m serious. How many?”
“Numbers don’t go that high.”
She smacked my hand.“Can you remember all of them?”
“Tons.”
“Do you think about them all the time?”
I thought through that one.“Hardly ever.”
“See. Hurts never go away, I’ll give you that.You still remember. Every now and then something will prick you and cause you to remember. But you don’t sit around all day rehashing the hurts of the past. If you do, you have far deeper issues than Joshua and his old girlfriend.”
I leaned across the railing. “So let me ask you this.”
“What, darling?” she leaned in, a little too close. I held my breath.“Ask me anything.”
I knew I could. I knew despite our countless differences that there wasn’t a thing in the world I couldn’t ask this woman.“What if we got married and he . . . he compared me . . . you know . . . to Celeste. What if I wasn’t any good?”
She smiled. Not a Vicky smile. A mother smile.“Darling, if that boy loves you like I think he loves you, he’ll have trouble remembering Celeste’s name. When something is right, perfectly right, it can never compare to what was wrong.”
“You think he’d think I was hot?”
She cackled and threw her head back. Every hair stayed in place.“I think he would think you were totally hot.”
“Oh, don’t say totally.”
“Well, what should I say?”
“Say completely or something, but not totally.”
“Okay, completely hot.” She patted the top of my hand. The sun sparkled on her massive diamond that could have downed a small aircraft.“ Life always has loss, Savannah. But you would miss far more if you let this man go than if you let go of your expectations of him. Because I guarantee you he will not be able to meet them all. But he will tot—completely blow others out of the water. Now, don’t think accepting this will change what it is. If you accept Joshua, you have to accept every part of his past as well. His past won’t change. But I have a feeling it was the past of that man that changed the man.”
I studied her quietly. She let me. Then she kissed me on the top of my head and started back up the long walkway that led out to the street. I turned to watch her go. She could saunter in high heels better than anyone I knew. Until her heel got stuck between two of the wooden slats. She tried daintily to get it undone. Dainty didn’t work. She pulled her foot out of it and jerked the entire thing out of the wood slat. She got the shoe all right, but the heel stayed right where it had lodged itself. She left it. Right there, to be contemplated by a thousand spectators for years to come.And away she walked. One heel touching the ground. The other foot walking on tiptoes. Her sauntering never missed a beat. Maybe Amber was her child. Had she ever worked at a bank?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I ran back onto the streets of Seaside and around Quincy Square until it deposited me in front of Ruskin Place. I walked slowly in front of the stores that were closing up shop. At the second row of townhouses, I worked my way into the center of the Ruskin Place park called Park de Leonardo de Bicci. I made my way along the dirt path that meanders through the covered garden. It’s almost as if the trees bent to follow me. When I was finally exposed to a clearing again, directly in front of me stood the Interfaith Seaside Chapel. How poetic to discover at the end of your path the place where you should have begun: the place of faith.
A lone man in a white linen shirt was closing the door behind him.The remnants of white lawn chairs and strewn rose petals were evidence that I had just missed the departure of the latest bride and groom. I stood silently as the young man made his way quietly up the brick street.
The door caught my eye.The rich pecan tones of the wood caused the door to seem small amid the sea of white.The opening looked only large enough for two small people or one rather large one.And seeing it there reminded me of the verse that says, “Small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of that door. It drew me.
The way may be narrow, and only a few may find it, but it wasn’t impossible to find. I knew in that moment that my judgmental attitude had prevented me from finding my way. Joshua had been so kind and so loving and so hurt. He needed forgiveness from only One in this life, and yet he asked for mine too, and my father’s. And I had been too condescending and selfish to extend it.
My heart ached. I sat down on the concrete wall surrounding Ruskin Place and stared at the church as best I could through the burning tears welling in my eyes.As I looked above the door, I noticed the three stories of paned windows above it. They matched the three stories of windows on the other end of the church, allowing you to see straight through. The One who was worshipped inside that sanctuary could see straight through me as well. And though every part of me wanted to recoil, He wouldn’t allow it. He gently prodded the yuck in my life, and by the time He was through, I realized the gate may be narrow but it was open.
I walked quietly to the small door and opened it as if it were the secret passageway at the end of the secret garden. The smell of fresh flowers and extinguished candles lingered in the air. I walked silently up the aisle toward the front of the church. The only two in the place were me and the cockroach that had come in with me. He fortunately went his way and I went mine.
Small baskets of red roses and spring flowers hung from the first three pews. I sat down on the front pew, where mothers sit and cry over daughters and sons they don’t want to give away and over sons-in-law and daughters-in-law they don’t want to gain.
I stared at the pulpit. I could see so clearly the memories of Sunday morning. The pastor walked to the small raised lectern in his vibrant blue shirt and red tie, the sport coat left at home for a business lunch, not a Sunday service by the sea. He caught my pew’s attention immediately. He simply mentioned the name of John Wesley, one of the city of Savannah’s most notables, and one of my heroes.
“John Wesley arrived in Georgia to preach the gospel to the ruffians. The ones who had maxed out their credit cards in England.” Everyone snickered.
“He fell in love. But his love was not returned.” I laughed to myself.
“He got angry.”
I could relate to angry.
“He wanted her banned from the church.”
How bad an idea could that be?
“But he was the one who was banned.”
Okay, not so great.
“And on Wesley’s way back home by boat, there was a horrible storm. And the crew was afraid. And Wesley was afraid. But there was a group of Moravians aboard. A strange religious sect of the time that focused on knowing God relationally. Their calm caught Wesley’s attention. So, in his priestly getup, he asked their leader why it was that his people weren’t afraid. ‘Sir, do you know God?’ the man asked Wesley. Wesley was angered. He wrote books about the things of God that this man knew nothing about. But Wesley realized afterward that his answer to that man’s question was no. And Wesley’s honest answer resulted in his genuine conversion. Life’s passions are powerful things. But the greatest passion would be knowing God more.
“Not for just a moment. Not until everything works out like you want it to. But every day, seeking to know God more. His heart. His thoughts. His plans. They may not match your own. But the question is, are you willing to let yours match His?”With those words he stepped down.
The memory of my first story crashed into my thoughts. I had hurt a local woman viciously with my first story. She hated me for it. Told me so in no uncertain terms. Knowing she held such animosity toward me ate away at me. I wanted her to forgive me. She hadn’t yet, not completely. And then I knew. I knew what it felt like not to be forgiven.
Back to my heart came the words of last Monday morning: be still. I had been anything but still this week. I had been crass; I had been obnoxious; I had been downright ugly, but not still. I turned and knelt by my pew. I asked for the forgiveness I needed. For my arrogance. For my pride. For my self-centered plans. I trusted God could handle my stuff, just like He had handled Joshua’s. Just like He had handled Lucy’s and Manuel’s. Just like He could handle Adam’s and Kate’s if they would let Him. And just like He had handled millions before us and would handle millions after us.
With the burning tears streaming down my face, I longed for some of that waterproof mascara that was Amber’s best friend. And for a long moment, I simply sat still.
The sand-and-seashell cross sitting on the altar table reminded me that forgiveness wasn’t a choice, but a way of life.A way of life promised to us by the One who had the most to forgive. As I sat there, I considered what I had once heard, that “one will come to man’s Creator by either desperation or revelation.” I came by way of one and left by way of the other.
“Ugly before age,” I said to the cockroach that waited by the door.
As it swung open, he headed back to his own family, while I headed back to find the man who would, I hoped, one day become a part of mine.
The first pellet of rain hit me as I closed the church door. By the time I jogged my way across Forrest Street Park and through Ruskin Place toward Proteus, well, the rain was beating me mercilessly. I picked up the pace to a brisk run and landed on the front porch of Joshua’s beach house with a thud. I knocked twice, hard and loud. Johnny greeted me with his illuminating smile.
“Savannah,my word,woman, what are you doing out in this mess?”
I panted. “I’m looking for Joshua. Is he here?”
“No. He’s out in this mess too. Aren’t you two a pair.” He laughed.
“Do you know where he is exactly?”
“I left him on the beach about an hour ago. He hasn’t been much company lately. I have a distinct feeling it has something to do with you.”
I didn’t have time to confirm or deny his feelings. “If he comes in before I can find him, tell him to stay right here until I get back. Please?” I begged.
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