The Good Girl

by Barritt, Christy

  We pulled away, but my hands didn’t want to leave his neck. Something invisible seemed to draw me toward him. I rested my head on his chest, and we both breathed slowly, deeply.

  It would be so easy to invite him inside. Just for a moment.

  But a lot could go wrong in one moment.

  “I should go,” he mumbled into my hair.

  It took all of my strength to nod and step back. “You’re right. You should.”

  Our gaze connected again until I finally held up my room key and nodded toward the door. “I’ll talk to you in the morning?”

  He grinned, his arms still at my waist. “You know it.”

  I quickly turned, unlocked my door, and rushed inside. My heart pounded uncontrollably as I heard him walk away.

  Hope was finally in sight.

  Chapter 32

  “This is your big day, Candy. I’m really happy for you.”

  She grinned. “Me, too. I’ve wanted this for so long. Thanks for being here with me.”

  I looked around and saw several people from Candy’s party crowd—including Mark. I’d stay far away from him. He didn’t seem to mind, as he hit on a pretty little redhead. There were also some people there from The Mercy House. A strange mix of people if I’d ever seen one, but I liked it. I liked rethinking my idea of church. I had to rethink my idea of church. I loved my dad, and he probably wouldn’t be thrilled about where this road had led. But at least it hadn’t led me away from God.

  I’d spent the morning at the hotel. I’d actually relaxed for the first time in a long time. I’d put a do-not-disturb sign up. I’d taken a long shower, and I’d watched some TV. Cooper had called to check in.

  My thoughts had drifted to the mystery at Lana’s house. All the pieces seemed to be coming together. Now I just had to make them fit. I was also hoping to hear something else today from either my dad or my attorney concerning my accuser’s past. Maybe the truth would finally come out. When it did, I’d be able to tell Cooper, and our relationship would be that much stronger.

  Speaking of Cooper, he stood beside me at the back of the room. Candy’s favorite little café had decided to cater, and they had two tables set up on either side of the room. Wanda and her husband looked pleased to host the event here at The Mercy House and bring attention to the difference one person could make in a community.

  I tried not to notice the way electricity crackled between Cooper and me as our arms brushed each other. But when his arm slipped around my shoulders and he kissed the top of my head, I thought I might burst with joy.

  Commotion at the doors turned my attention that way. A news crew flooded the room, a glossy blonde leading the pack. She beelined toward Candy. Everyone seemed to quiet around them as they waited with anticipation for what would happen next.

  “Pretty exciting, huh?” Cooper said.

  I nodded. “Yeah, really exciting. I’m happy for Candy.”

  “You played a part in this, you know.”

  “Not really. In fact, it’s usually when I step out of the way that God steps in and does his thing. I can’t take any credit.” At one time, I would have wanted to.

  Maybe this was my new start. Maybe I was meant to come here and start over. Here in St. Paul, no one had to know what had transpired in Miami. It could be my secret, a part of my past that never had to be revealed.

  Except that I had to tell Cooper. Why? Because I cared about him. And because I was beginning to trust him. I just had to figure out how to break the news. What I had to tell him was enough to shake even the most levelheaded person. I’d already seen that happen. I’d experienced the gossip and slander and backstabbing at my expense. I knew what it was like to be rejected, to be judged before even having a chance to explain myself. I knew what it was like to have friends turn on you, to have coworkers reject you, to have the public scrutinize your every move.

  I’d survived. Now it was time to rebuild my life.

  Everyone quieted when it came time for the news crew to film. They sat Candy in the middle of the room with her friends gathered all around her. They adjusted lights and microphones. The reporter chatted with Candy. I wasn’t sure what she was saying, probably prepping her for what was to come. Finally, it came time to film. I leaned against the wall, watching with anticipation.

  “A St. Paul woman has gained national attention and has become a part of the prestigious online celebrity club, the result of social media. Candy Cornelius, also known as iCandy, has been posting videos online for four years. It wasn’t until she started a campaign with a local church that her channel exploded.”

  Today, Candy was like a 100 Grand Bar. Ten of them. She was well on her way to getting the fame and fortune she’d been seeking and working for.

  They showed a clip of Candy giving “Hugs for the Homeless.” She then talked about doing “Haircuts for the Homeless” and “H2O for the Homeless.”

  Cooper leaned in close. “I’ve got to go help Wanda over there.”

  I glanced up in time to see Wanda trying to manage two rowdy guys who’d come in through the back entrance and were bound and determined to make a scene. “Got it.”

  I glanced back over at the interview taking place. Candy basked in the limelight. This was her big day, the moment she’d been dreaming about for so long. I was really happy for her.

  The reporter continued to hold the microphone in front of Candy. “Candy, is your friendship with accused child molester Tara Lancaster a part of your strategy?”

  My heart dropped, and I stopped breathing. Had I just heard that correctly? No, no, no...

  Candy’s gaze fluttered up, surprise evident in her wide eyes.

  Everyone in the room turned to watch me. Tears rushed to my eyes. My cheeks burned. My stomach roiled. I wanted nothing more than to sink back into the wall behind me and disappear.

  “Excuse me?” Candy asked. Confusion narrowed her eyes, and her hands went to her hips.

  The reporter stepped closer. “Tara Lancaster, also known as The Saint, was seen in one of your online videos. Paparazzi have been trying to locate her for weeks, and then she showed up on your video. A viewer tipped us off.”

  I grasped my throat, which felt like it was closing. Panic threatened to rip me apart. I couldn’t bear to look up, to see anyone. Especially Cooper. I was going to tell him. I was going to. But this wasn’t the way I wanted him to find out. What he must be thinking now. What everyone had to be thinking.

  I could feel their gazes on me, and suddenly I didn’t hear anything else. All I could hear was the voice of my accuser.

  What was I supposed to do? Tell everyone that I was innocent? Tell them that new evidence had come to light to prove it?

  They wouldn’t believe me. Doubt had been planted. I’d be crucified before I even had a chance to defend myself.

  I pushed myself from the wall. Tears blurred my vision as I ran toward the door. Before anyone could stop me—not that they would—I ran outside. I kept running. I wouldn’t look back. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  Epic fail, I thought. Epic fail.

  ~*~

  I curled up in a ball on my bed at the hotel and let the tears soak my pillow. I couldn’t imagine a way that things could have gone any worse. Cooper had found out about my past in front of a crowd of his friends and on national TV. I’d stolen Candy’s spotlight. The paparazzi now knew that I was in St. Paul. In one day, my relationship with Cooper was ruined, my friendship with Candy had ended, and my hope for a new start was squashed.

  The tears came harder, saturating my skin, my shirt, my soul.

  Maybe St. Paul wasn’t for me after all. Maybe I would find a new town, a place where no one knew me. And I wouldn’t get close to anyone. I didn’t want to see their disappointment when they found out who I was. I didn’t want to face those judgmental glances again.

  But could I ever truly get away from all of that?

  Someone banged at the door. Who was it? A reporter? An angry mob? I knew better.
Only one person knew I was here—Cooper.

  I’d turned off my cell phone, just in case he might try and call me.

  Maybe I’d never turn it on again. After all, as soon as this hit the national news, my family would be calling. Peter and his family would probably be gloating, relishing the fact that my life had continued to go downhill. And my accuser would win—again.

  He pounded again. I wiped my cheeks with my hands and said nothing.

  “Tara, it’s me. Can I come in?” Cooper’s voice normally brought me comfort. Right now, fear coursed through me. Not fear of violence, but fear of seeing the accusation and disappointment in his eyes. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle having someone else I cared about reject me because of something I didn’t do. Peter had been hard enough. But I couldn’t bear seeing the doubt in Cooper’s eyes also.

  “Tara, I know you’re in there. You’re not answering your phone. Can we talk? Please?”

  I sniffled but tried to remain still and quiet so he wouldn’t know I was right on the other side of the door.

  “I’m leaving to go out of town in the morning. I don’t want to leave without talking.”

  That’s right. He was leaving to pick up Austin. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe I’d just pack up all of my stuff and go to a different hotel for a while. He’d return from his trip, and I’d be gone. I’d get a new cell phone. I’d start a new life and put my time here behind me.

  “I’ll be awake if you want to call me tonight, Tara,” Cooper finally said.

  I heard him walk away, and my heart mixed with crushing sadness and relief. We wouldn’t have to talk after all. I should be happy. But maybe there’d been a part of me that wanted Cooper to believe me with abandon. I had to kill that hope, though.

  I walked to the window. I saw Cooper’s truck pulling out of the parking lot.

  Then I saw a lime-green Jeep pull away after him.

  Mark Champion. What was he doing here? I remembered the crystals hanging from his rearview mirror and the New Age tattoo on his wrist.

  Could he be behind all of this?

  I shook my head. I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was that I formulate a plan to get out of town with no car, no money, and no hope.

  ~*~

  Tears flowed from me like someone had turned on a faucet and broken it. I had no idea my body was capable of losing so much fluid, or that my tear ducts could ache, or that I could feel so very empty inside.

  At one a.m. my time, I called Lana, which worked out to be morning Tuscany time. She answered, her voice husky. I’d woken her up anyway. Go figure.

  I told her about what had happened—about everything. I knew that I could always turn to my sister. She’d listened with surprising silence as I poured out how I’d always known that Dad had loved her more and how I hated myself. I’d never voiced those thoughts to her before, and, when I finished, I feared how she’d react to my honesty.

  “Oh, Tara. I’m so sorry. Life just sucks sometimes.” Her voice sounded sincere and compassionate. If she were here in person, I would have hugged her for actually thinking about someone other than herself for once.

  “Sometimes I just want to give up. In the very least, I want plastic surgery for my soul.” Wouldn’t that be nice? Just get some anesthesia, go under the knife, and wake up changed on the inside?

  “Look, I’m not an expert with the God-thing. You know that. But isn’t that what repentance and redemption is? Plastic surgery for the soul as you said?”

  Her words had a certain beauty to them, but I couldn’t comprehend them now. “I just don’t know sometimes.”

  “Tara, you’re a beautiful person.”

  “I don’t feel beautiful. I feel tarnished.”

  “Don’t change. Don’t really change, at least. I’ve always wished I was more like you.”

  “You have to be kidding.” My voice held disbelief.

  “I’m not, though. I mean, sure, you can be neurotic sometimes, but you’re compassionate. You love people. You love working in the church. Your soul is already beautiful.”

  “All of that did me no good. I’ve lost everything from my past, from my present, from my future.”

  “There’s always hope, Tara. That’s what you would have told me.” She paused. “You’re one of the few people I know who truly wants to be good and holy with your whole heart. Don’t change that, Tara. One day, I want to get to the place where you are.”

  My sister’s words stunned me. She’d always seemed so content with her rebellion. Did she mean what she said?

  We talked for a few minutes before I hung up. I continued thinking about what she said as I drifted into a fitful sleep.

  I woke up the next morning with a new resolve. My tears had temporarily dried up.

  My dad’s words and Lana’s words had echoed in my head all night. You just have to be right with yourself. Isn’t that what repentance and redemption are? Plastic surgery for the soul? I’d been hiding and ashamed, all for something I didn’t do. Mostly, I just wanted to be right with Jesus.

  Though I regretted the way everyone had found out about my past yesterday, there was a certain relief in having my secret revealed. Now I would face my fears in the most public of ways.

  I showered, dressed, and got ready. Though I felt depleted, a new calm had come over me. I gathered my wits and walked into The Mercy House. I knew they were having their weekly Bible study here this morning. I knew that Candy said she would be here, as well as Wanda and Larry. It was time to set the record straight.

  My hands were sweaty as I stepped into the church. Larry’s voice rang out from speakers on both sides of the stage. I spotted the group of people gathered in chairs and listening. Larry had his Bible open and was reading some Scripture when he saw me and stopped in mid-sentence. Heads swiveled toward me.

  Would Larry throw me out? I was going to find out. My heart pounded in my ears.

  He lowered his Bible. “Tara. What a surprise.” His voice didn’t necessarily hold condemnation or welcome.

  Even though my legs wobbled, I wasn’t going to turn around now. I walked onto the stage, the moment feeling surreal. “I was wondering if I could say something?”

  “The floor’s yours.” Larry somberly sat down in a chair on the front row.

  I looked at the group before me, trying not to lose my courage. They don’t have any stones to throw, I reminded myself. Tonya was there with those big eyes that held so much expectation for me at one time. Candy stared at me, and I had no idea what she was thinking. That I’d ruined her big night? I recognized several other faces from my brief time here at the church. Maybe this wasn’t the church where I should be saying this, but they were what I had right now.

  I licked my lips. “Some of you know me, and some of you don’t. My name is Tara Lancaster. For years, I perfected the act of looking and talking like the ideal Christian. I perfected it to such an extent that I even wrote my own rules. I published the rules and thousands of girls began following them. In the process, I became pious. I thought God loved me more than he loved other people because I was holy.” I wiped my tears and drew in a shaky breath before continuing.

  “I married the perfect man and got the perfect job, and I lived in my own little perfect world. But one day all of that crashed around me when a student at the school where I taught made false allegations against me. He told everyone that we’d had an inappropriate relationship.” I stared at everyone’s face. Some people’s eyes widened in surprise. Some looked away in disgust. Others stared on curiously. “My world crashed around me. My husband left me. My school fired me. My dad’s church was devastated.”

  I wiped at the fresh set of tears streaming down my cheeks. Tonya tiptoed on stage and handed me a box of tissues. “The fact is, I think God brought me through all of that so I could know him more. To really know him more. He wanted to change my heart. He wanted me to truly live out the gospel, not just my little American version of the gospel.
In the process, I almost walked away from my faith, but God brought some very special people into my life.”

  I glanced at Candy, who remained expressionless. I couldn’t stop now. “He brought me people who didn’t care what other people thought of them. He brought me people who’d been through devastating circumstances but remained strong. He brought me people who’d truly been changed by God’s love and who were living it out every day.”

  I tried to look at the crowd again but tears blurred my vision. My voice cracked as I continued. “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone. I couldn’t bring myself to admit to anyone here what had happened. In fact, when I came here, I was hoping that no one would have to know. But I’m here to tell you that I’m a deeply flawed individual. I’m anything but perfect. I’m a sinner saved by grace.” I looked down at the ground. “I just wanted to share my story and to apologize for any embarrassment that I may have caused. Thank you for listening.”

  I didn’t wait to hear any reaction. I fled the stage and raced back to my car. I was going to make things right before I left. Then I was going to figure out the rest of my life.

  Chapter 33

  I went back to Lana’s to wrap up a few things. I packed my bag and wrote a note to Cooper, explaining everything and asking him to take care of Gaga until Lana returned. Maybe leaving would be considered cowardly, but I thought leaving was best for everyone.

  I also had a sweatshirt that he’d left here on the night of the ghost hunt. I ran my hand over it then brought it to my face and inhaled his scent. My heart twisted with grief at what could have been.

  How would I make sure he got this note? Leave it on his door? A steady wind swept through St. Paul today and would certainly blow it away.

  Winnie, I realized. I could leave it with Winnie. She didn’t seem like the type who watched social media. Maybe she wouldn’t have heard about what happened. Maybe.

  I knocked at her door, fidgeting as I stood there waiting. My gaze wandered around me. Did anyone else around here know? Were they desperate for me to leave?