That Dark Place

by W. Franklin Lattimore

  She wasn’t a Lawton; she was a Franklin, and because of that, she didn’t have the same familial rights as they. Family was family. Anything—and everyone—else took second place.

  But isn’t that exactly how it should be?

  Pillow punch.

  But they had brought her in! Included her! Called her daughter and sister! Gave her a home and helped care for her little girl! They made her a part of their daily lives by inviting her to watch movies with them, including her in “family” game night, and doing so many other little things that had made her feel so special!

  That was the very definition of inclusiveness! That proved that they actually did care about her—that she was important to them!

  Wasn’t that right?

  For some reason, though, she wasn’t quite important enough to be brought into something as intimate as Brent sharing details about his past and about his recurring dreams.

  That hurt her heart.

  And that’s why her pillow had repeatedly come within an inch of its life, being both punched and kicked across the floor.

  She wanted the Lawtons to be her family; she needed that. Yet, now, it was obvious that she didn’t quite fit in … because she was apparently still an outsider.

  Pillow punch.

  Oh, how she sometimes hated having what Jamie jokingly called a “girl brain”—the inability to compartmentalize emotional subjects so they could be resolved later.

  Who can do that? Can guys really, truly do that? That just can’t be possible.

  And as if to prove Jamie right, her perpetual mental whirlwind began another round.

  Of course she knew that the Lawtons loved her. They had proven that to her time and again. But she couldn’t help thinking how easy it would have been for any one of them to decide to walk up to her bedroom to at least see if she was awake.

  Heck, the fact of the matter was that the only thing any one of them would’ve needed to do was look up! They would have seen her standing there, leaning against the corner of the hallway at the top of the stairs, only a few feet above where Jenna had been sitting.

  Pillow punch.

  She sighed again.

  There was that other thing, though. There was all that talk of God.

  Of … Joshua.

  A new path of thought: Maybe … just maybe … the Lawtons were just being considerate of her continued self-distancing from the topic. Maybe if she had just given in on Sunday while she’d had the chance. Maybe if she had just taken the step to become one of them—a Christian—it would have been a no-brainer to include her in the conversation.

  Maybe … possibly … it hadn’t been anything more than that.

  And that would have made exclusion from their conversation … no one’s fault but her own.

  Pillow punch.

  Broken nail.

  Deep sigh.

  Chapter 46

  N

  either Jamie nor Drew could have known it, but both were mentally preoccupied with Elizabeth at the same moment. They both found her intoxicatingly attractive, and both desired to be as close to her as possible, as often as possible.

  But that was where the similarities diverged.

  The most important difference was that Jamie wasn’t spending his alone time fantasizing about what it would be like to undress her. His desires to be with Elizabeth were certainly atypical for a teenage boy with screaming hormones; he’d been careful to keep his thoughts clean.

  Jamie applied an ice pack to his shoulder as he leaned back on his bed. Earlier in the day, he’d taken an unforeseen roundhouse kick to his back. His opponent’s heel had clipped his left shoulder. He should have anticipated it, but instead, he was thinking about his next move.

  Sloppy defense.

  Karate, in real life, wasn’t like that of the young hero in the movies. Instead, it was about a lot of work and constantly learning from one’s mistakes. Unfortunately, it also required enduring the pain of those mistakes in order to become any good at it.

  He adjusted his pillow in order to find a more comfortable position for his head.

  Something occurred to him. Something his dad had done that had initially been rather uncomfortable.

  Not quite a year before, his dad had asked him to sit at the patio table to talk about “men things.” It developed into a more-than-awkward moment as he listened to how his dad had developed a fixation with his mom when he was young—one that was fairly similar to what he was presently going through with Elizabeth.

  Knowing his dad’s proclivity to turn conversations into lessons, he listened intently. His dad described his relationship with not only his mom, but also with his high school basketball coach, George Chamberlin, and how the man had mentored him into a proper way of thinking about girls and relationships.

  Those lessons, in turn, got passed down to him that day, and much of what his dad had shared hit home. Thankfully, his dad didn’t know the additional, maybe larger, reason why that conversation was needed.

  Just three days before their one-on-one at the patio table, Jamie had ventured into forbidden territory for the first time.

  Pornography. A subject often mentioned, even laughed about, at school. Jamie, however, had some pretty strong moral boundaries that had steered him clear of searching the stuff out.

  At least he’d thought they were strong.

  His first—and, admittedly, intentional—foray into porn had been met with what he’d anticipated seeing: naked women. A broad spectrum of ages. Some of them looked as young as he, though the sites claimed they were all eighteen years of age or older.

  His heart had hammered and his conscience had screamed for him to “X” out of it—to turn and run. But the triggered hormones had hit him hard.

  Day one: Guilt

  Day two: Guilt

  Day three: Guilt

  Day four: His dad sat him down for this talk.

  Initially, Jamie was terrified that his dad had somehow found out about the porn searches he’d done, and maybe that was the reason for the chat. If he had known, he never let on that he knew.

  His dad also never mentioned Elizabeth as a reason for the talk. Looking back, he suspected that it may have been a preemptive measure, possibly for that very reason.

  Pornography did come up during the talk, though. He shared some of the dangers that lay along the path, including how normal, everyday people who got wrapped up in it became addicts … some of them arrested by his dad and other officers in the police department.

  The perps—as he’d heard them referred to—had ventured beyond pornography into illegal activities that included sexual assault. His dad said that many of those men had probably grown up in normal homes, but their minds became distorted enough to believe that their fantasies, instigated by pornography, were really nothing more than pleasurable and satisfying physical outlets. The idea of “No harm, no foul.”

  “Pornography gives the illusion that the women involved are enjoying it,” his dad had said. “Nothing could be further from the truth in most cases. In fact, human trafficking—being sold by bad people to other bad people—is often the starting point for careers in that industry.

  “Some in the porn business get abused until they are used up. Then they are spit out as useless. Others are lured in by the idea of fame and money. Oftentimes, they get the money, but the “fame” never truly matches the mental images they’d been fed before they got sucked in. Again, after being in the industry for a while, they are replaced by the newer, younger ‘stars.’”

  Jamie hadn’t considered any of that during the three times he’d ventured into that realm. They had all looked like they were enjoying being photographed while posing or … doing other stuff.

  “I don’t want you to get trapped like so many other men, Jamie. We ought to be praying for anyone who is. We need to be praying for our own purity. There is so much in this world fighting against it.
>
  “I love you, Son. I don’t want heartache and feelings of guilt to reign in your heart where Christ should be. It’s a trap from the Enemy. A hellish trap. And that goes for premarital sex, as well.

  “Someday, the opportunity is going to arise for you to be with a pretty girl. That pretty girl may already have experience with sex. If she does, then she’s probably going to be more open to it again. She’s already given up the one thing she can never get back, her virginity—her sexual innocence. She’s already dealt with the feelings of guilt and tried to dismiss them as irrelevant. And she’ll probably be feeling as though sex is the way to get a boyfriend and maybe even keep him.”

  His dad dropped his head. “I pray that this never happens to either of your sisters.”

  Lifting his head again, he looked Jamie right in the eyes. “Jamie, if this pretty girl you are with has never had a sexual encounter, it is your responsibility to protect her from actions that you will be tempted to take. It’s not her responsibility to say no to you. Of course, she needs to be responsible for her choices as well, but you can never make it her responsibility. You have to man up no matter how much your hormones get stirred.”

  He and his dad had continued talking for a while after that, his dad encouraging him to ask questions. It was beyond awkward, but it had been worth it.

  And it had worked. He never ventured back to the Internet for more pictures.

  Because of that conversation, and also because of the conversation he’d had with Jenna about his Christian obligations toward Elizabeth, he had resolved to maintain the boundaries his dad had talked about.

  It wasn’t always easy to look at her with a pure heart. But he was determined to love her instead of lust for her.

  Wait. What?

  Jamie sat up, eyebrows furrowed at the potential revelation.

  Love?

  Where had that come from?

  He swung his feet off the bed and onto the floor.

  Love?

  Did he love Elizabeth?

  Of course, he had love for her and toward her. It was what a Christian did—love.

  But did he love love her?

  He was beginning to think he did.

  He was falling in love with an older teenage mom whom he was probably supposed to be regarding as only his sister.

  Oh boy.

  He looked up at the ceiling. “Uhh … God?”

  DREW LOOKED THROUGH the portfolio again. He realized that the collection of photos had transitioned from something that he was doing for her back to something he was doing for himself.

  He no longer sat upon his high horse of self-righteous heroism, and he no longer saw the portfolio as a gift to a girl he had emotionally injured. No. Now he was gazing upon the portfolio as a lure that he hoped would draw her close.

  He had misgivings. He knew he was back on the dark side. He’d tried and failed at caring more for who she was than for what she had.

  To think that he’d actually fooled himself into believing he could be an empathetic man with a girl’s best interests at heart.

  He’d seen too much. He’d visualized too much.

  Now he’d sleep with her. If she’d have him.

  Would she? Could she?

  “If we were a little closer in age….”

  Her voice had trailed off. She’d never finished the sentence. There was more to what she’d wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to verbalize the thought.

  So, he finished the thought for her. “…I might want to spend some quality time with you. Just the two of us. Alone.”

  What else could it have been? Even if it were a little more innocent than that, it was still on the same path.

  “If we were a little closer in age … I’d consider dinner and a movie with you.”

  Okay, so if it had been food and entertainment, wouldn’t that also be a cue for a kiss or more afterward?

  Drew couldn’t think of a single ending to her sentence that didn’t mean hand-holding or kissing or holding each other or ending up in bed.

  It was only matter of hours now.

  He’d find a way to occupy himself until it was time for him to sleep.

  Chapter 47

  T

  he grass was a thick, soft rug beneath her feet. Because her soles were so sensitive and ticklish, she didn’t often walk outside barefoot. Today, she made an exception, and it felt so nice.

  The light of the late-afternoon sun danced on the leaves of a tree at the back of the yard, and the temperature was very satisfying. A sleeveless shirt and shorts were once again the order of the day.

  It was perfect.

  Except for one thing.

  Brent.

  Tara.

  Jenna.

  And Jamie.

  Okay, four things.

  At the moment, the Lawtons were scattered. Jamie was off with Zach. Jenna was … out somewhere. Tara was in the kitchen prepping dinner. And Brent was probably on his way home from work.

  She was glad for her distance from all of them. Except Kyla and Amy. She had no problem with Amy.

  I know she would have had no problem with inviting me into the conversation.

  And Kyla—bless her beautiful little heart—who had been playing with Tara for much of the late morning and early afternoon could hardly keep her eyes open after greeting her “Mom-Mom” when she came home from work.

  Though she herself was tired as well—from lack of sleep and another morning-through-lunch shift at the diner—Elizabeth still had some energy left in her tank. More than she should, anyway.

  The source? The combination of continued agitation toward the Lawtons and excitement for what she was about to receive the following day.

  She was finally getting her portfolio. It was only a matter of hours, now.

  How many will he include? Which ones did he pick? He seemed to like the way I looked at every location.

  Upon a moment of quiet reflection on her way home from work, Elizabeth decided that Mark Johnson had found her attractive. Though she had played it off the day of the shoot as a man just being diligent at his job, she had noticed that his eyes had been lingering upon her a little longer than they ought from time to time.

  She hadn’t minded. It hadn’t gotten creepy. Besides, he was just one more man doing the same as all the rest. She had come to both expect and accept it, both at the diner and online. Men just found her attractive.

  But there was still something about his gaze upon her. He saw exceptional beauty all the time. Was she to believe that she, too, fell into that category?

  Elizabeth slowly walked to the back of the property, to a small, beautifully landscaped flower bed. She knelt to look at the colors of the petals of the various flowers, having no idea what any of them were.

  She leaned over to smell one of them.

  She drank in the fragrance.

  She sat, curling her legs to her side, and decided to linger there for a few minutes to enjoy, as best she could, the beauty of the colors and the sounds of the birds. She appreciated the momentary solace.

  The experience was short-lived, though, as she began reflecting again on Mark’s gaze.

  She knew from the portfolios of the models he’d previously photographed that he was constantly around women who were clothed not only in long, lavish evening gowns but also in as little as the tiniest swimsuits and revealing lingerie.

  Did Mark’s eyes linger on those women as well?

  Elizabeth caught herself.

  Why did she even care about it? It wasn’t as though she had an interest in the guy. He was too old. Far too old.

  Thirties? Probably.

  But then … there were also the guys of the same general age who loved to gawk at her online when she was willing to both tease and reveal.

  Did she mind that? No, not much.

  Some of them were a bit too willing to be “flashy” themselves, though. Not a big
deal, most of the time. She did enjoy male anatomy, especially after she herself had gotten warmed up from playing around.

  The problem with men was that they ditched her pretty quickly after they got satisfied.

  She reconsidered. That wasn’t truly a problem for her. She had no emotional attachments to any of them. They offered no real conversations, just sex-related banter.

  It was interesting to her, now, how disinterested she was becoming at times. A lack of desire to continue with the online exhibitionism was occurring more often as of late. She was beginning to take notice that something was missing, and it was no mystery what that “something” was.

  Soul intimacy.

  Emotional intimacy.

  She was yearning for much more than she was receiving from those who just wanted a quick fix to their hormonal situations.

  What she wanted, truly, was.…

  Jamie’s face instantly flashed into her thoughts.

  She sighed. What I’m missing is what Jamie gives me.

  But while Mark was too old to be a dating consideration, Jamie’s age and inexperience were also a problem. He was a teenager like her … but younger than she was comfortable with. He couldn’t even drive yet.

  It would be stupid to put my heart there.

  It would be. Right?

  Was she stupid for wanting to, though?

  He’d never disrespected her. Well, until the previous night when neither he nor anyone else had given any consideration to her feelings.

  And there it was … again.

  Maybe she’d bring it up at the dinner table tonight. That’d provide some discomfort to everyone, to be sure.

  I’d just be serving them what they served me.

  Resentment. She recognized it.

  She didn’t want it. Nor did she want to slap any of them with it. But she was feeling it, feeling the need to lash out with something that said, “How could you leave me out?!”

  But what if the response was, “We didn’t think you’d understand, because you don’t really seem to want all of our God stuff”?