A Moment of Weakness (36 page)

Anger flared in Tanner’s eyes. “It wasn’t her choice.”

“But she lied all the same. And now here we are.”

Tanner moved slowly back to the sofa and settled into the spot beside Jade. He turned his body so that his face was near hers. “Was it so easy to marry someone else?”

Jade held his gaze. “No.” Fresh tears stung her eyes. “I thought about you every day.” Images of Ty came to mind, and she looked away, unable to meet Tanner’s gaze. “I think about you still.”

Tanner framed her face with his fingertips, desperately searching her eyes and positioning her so that she had no choice but to look into his again. “You did love me, didn’t you, Jade?”

She nodded, her words barely audible. “Yes, I loved you, Tanner.”

“In all my life.” He moved his face closer to hers, and Jade knew what was coming. She knew but was unable to stop it, didn’t want to if she could. “I have never loved anyone … like I loved you, Jade.”

He moved his mouth gently over hers and kissed her. It was a moment stolen from days gone by, a kiss that assured Jade had she not believed Doris Eastman’s lies she and Tanner would be together still. Together forever. His hands wove their way through her hair as he pulled her close, kissing her like a man might kiss his bride before heading off to war. Desperately, hungrily, with an almost fatalistic certainty that this kiss would be their last.

Jade’s hands found Tanner’s face, his neck, and shoulders. No man would ever make her feel the way Tanner did, the way he still did. They kissed again and again, and sometime in the midst of the moment, Jade finally understood the Scripture from Jeremiah.

This man, Tanner Eastman, had been God’s plan for her, the future and hope he had prepared for her life. But they had given in to desire, and after that she had chosen to handle the situation on her own—without trusting God’s voice or heeding his warnings about not being unequally yoked. She had acted hastily in irrational fear and married a nonbeliever while Tanner was studying religious freedom halfway around the world. The life she had now was the punishment she deserved. Punishment for her many sins.

She had rushed ahead of God, and her sentence would last a lifetime.

Tanner pulled away first, and Jade saw guilt in his eyes. He was, after all, engaged. There was no way they could turn back the clock and pretend ten years hadn’t gone by. “I’m sorry, Jade.”

She kept her hands on either side of his face, her eyes connected with his. “Don’t be. It doesn’t change anything. I know that.”

“You’re right.” His face was still inches from hers, and Jade found herself wishing he would embrace her once more. His breathing was raspy, and Jade could feel his body trembling beside hers. “I just wanted you to know the truth … I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you, Jade.”

The hours had slipped away, and Jade felt like Cinderella. Midnight was approaching, and it was time to return to reality. Time for stolen moments from the past to be put behind them forever.

“We shouldn’t have …” Jade couldn’t bring herself to voice the words, but she pulled back and caught her breath.

“I know.” He stood up and reached for her hands, pulling her gently off the sofa. When they were both standing, he wrapped her in his arms and held her close. Her body screamed for him, and she was certain he felt the same way. There was something between them, a physical chemistry, an attraction that was stronger than either of them. It was the same feeling that had caused them to veer off God’s course in the first place. Now life had moved on without them, and Tanner’s plane was set to leave in ninety minutes. “I gotta go.”

Jade pulled away from him and crossed her arms in front of her. “Are you going to talk to your mother?”

Again anger flashed in Tanner’s eyes. “How can I forgive her for what she did? She made up her mind I wouldn’t marry you, and she did everything in her power to devise a plan that would keep us apart. A plan that worked. I’ll struggle with that as long as I live.”

“But you’ll forgive her, Tanner.” Jade’s voice was gentle. Much as she wished Tanner could hate his mother for what she’d done, Jade knew that was impossible. Tanner loved God too much to hold a grudge of bitterness and hatred. “You’ll forgive her. You couldn’t live with yourself otherwise.”

Tanner sighed. “Being with you tonight has made me doubt a lot of things.” His eyes held hers, but she kept her distance. “My ability to forgive is one of them.”

Tanner made his way to the front of the house, and Jade trailed close behind. He opened the door and turned to her once more. “We still have a lot to talk about regarding the hearing. It’s in a week, and I’ll probably be back up here at least once before then.”

Jade nodded. “It’ll be different.”

“Yeah, I suppose it will be.”

She looked in his eyes, and though she kept her distance, she allowed her fingers to find his face once more. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I wish …”

His face grew serious, and fresh grief filled his eyes. “If only you’d believed me …”

She blinked and two tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Her apology settled over him, and she could see something change in his eyes. He forgave her. No matter that she’d doubted his intentions and believed horrible things about him. Regardless of the fact that she’d married someone else less than a month after his departure, he forgave her.

“At least we’re not enemies anymore.” Tanner leaned toward her and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “Good-bye, Jade.”

She pulled away. “Bye.”

He left then, and she allowed her eyes to follow his car until it disappeared at the end of the street. Why had she ever doubted him? So what if the pictures had looked like Tanner? Hadn’t she known him better than that? Hadn’t she believed his love for her?

In that moment, with the damp breeze blowing through her hair and Tanner headed for the airport, she knew that had there been a way to go back, she would have found it. If it meant swimming the ocean for days on end or climbing a hundred mountains; if she had to walk the desert floor ten years straight, she would do it. Whatever it took. If only she could go back a decade in time and live life over again.

If she could, she would question everything Doris Eastman said instead of taking the awful things she’d spoken about Tanner as gospel. She would search out the letters Tanner had written from wherever her father had hidden them. Then she
would wait for Tanner the way a drowning man waits for his next breath.

As though nothing in life mattered more.

D
ORIS
E
ASTMAN WAS ALONE IN HER CONDOMINIUM, CHASING
away invisible monsters in the night and praying for relief. Perched on her lap was an open copy of the Bible. Anxiety had plagued Doris before—terrifying, suffocating anxiety—but it had never driven her to read Scripture. It was the chest pains that had done that. Persistent, relentless stabbings somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. Doris was about to turn sixty-six, and in the past week the thought had dawned on her that perhaps this problem wouldn’t be cured with diet and exercise.

Perhaps she was dying.

Doris had never actually considered death. It was an opponent she did not fear because as far back as she could remember she was certain she would live to be a hundred. She wore a seatbelt, had annual checkups, ate well and walked a mile each day. Death didn’t happen to people like her. It happened to people like Hap who—cheeseburger after cheeseburger—built a gut around their midsection and refused to see the importance of exercise.

But now, though Doris had taken every precaution, though she was clearly the picture of health for her age, she had the distinct feeling she was no longer bulletproof. The chest pains were a constant reminder.

Doris had been to the doctor, and he’d given her a concerned look. Her blood pressure was high, and she seemed short of breath. He’d scheduled a treadmill test for the following week and sent her home with nitroglycerin tablets and
medicine to control her blood pressure. She’d been taking both drugs for three days, but they brought little relief from the pain.

And no relief whatsoever from the fear.

Doris tidied her condominium while voices raged against her peace of mind.
Repent! Remember the height from which you have fallen! Woe to you blind guides.…

Even with classical music blaring through her home and the washing machine running in the next room, Doris could not block out the incessant warnings.
I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m a Christian woman, for heaven’s sake
.

But the silent echoes of Scripture she’d long since forgotten screamed in the foyer of her mind:
Broad is the road that leads to destruction and many find it.… And on that day he will separate the sheep from the goats.… Anyone whose name was not written in the Lamb’s book of life was thrown into the lake of fire.…

“Stop!” Doris shouted as she flipped off the bedside stereo. “Enough!”

She clutched at her chest and winced as she made her way across the room to her bathroom sink. She flicked on the light, poured herself a glass of water, and took two sips. Silence; that was what she needed. Time to reflect on the strange Scriptures that played constantly in her head.
What are you trying to tell me, God? I’m not the one you should be hounding. What about Jade? She’s the one who tricked Tanner into sleeping with her. I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances
.

Woe to you … remember the height from which you have fallen.…

Doris squeezed her eyes shut and sank onto the nearest sofa cushion. From what height had she fallen?
Show me, God
.

A memory began to take shape. Doris was twelve, maybe thirteen years old sitting on the bank of a creek in
Williamsburg, Virginia. Her parents had been churchgoers, but they never actually discussed their faith. And that day Doris had found the family Bible and taken it with her to the quiet spot along the water. For three hours she sat there soaking in Scriptures, seeing her faith in a new light. Making it her own.

Though more than fifty years had passed, she could see herself clearly, hear her sweet, young voice as she prayed aloud asking Jesus to be with her always, to walk with her and talk to her and hold her close. It was that day that Doris realized faith wasn’t the picture that had been modeled by her parents. It was a relationship with Christ. There on the creek bank she promised God that a day wouldn’t go by without her meeting him the way she had that morning. They would meet together, talk together, and in time she would know the Bible by heart.

Doris blinked and the image disappeared. When had she stopped feeling that way about the Lord? Three years later? four? She was seventeen when she met Hap, and she remembered them discussing the Bible on their dates. But sometime before they married things had changed between her and God. The image of Angela Conner appeared, and she gritted her teeth. Yes, that’s when everything had changed. When Hap gave in to Angela Conner.

God had allowed Hap to fall, and Doris must have decided she had no one to lean on but herself. The days of sweet fellowship with the Lord died a quiet death after that.

Doris never stopped claiming an allegiance to Christ. It wasn’t that she disbelieved him. But she had never quite forgiven him for letting her down where Hap was concerned. Over the years, her hard feelings toward God grew into a distance that now—even with the chest pains—seemed too vast to cross.

Doris returned to her bedroom, sank into a swivel chair,
and leaned against the backseat. Her chest pains eased. Had she come so far from that day on the creek bank that she had actually stopped listening to God? Stopped loving him? She closed her eyes, and the Scriptures returned.

Anyone whose name was not written in the Lamb’s book of life was cast into the lake of
.

No! God loved her too much to threaten her with fire. Her name was there in the Lamb’s book. Surely it was.

Repent! Repent or I will remove your lampstand.…

Another image filled Doris’s mind, and this time she stared at it in horror. A cross, anchored on a lonely hill bearing the shadowy figure of a dying Christ.

In that moment a tidal wave of remorse crashed down upon Doris, driving her to her knees. And though her bones ached at the odd position, she hung her head and felt the strangest sensation. Her eyes burned and grew moist, and Doris realized what it was. Tears. She hadn’t cried in decades, and now a torrent of tears were fighting their way free from the depth of her heart, where they had been trapped so long they’d nearly dried up.

She had become a hard, ugly old woman. A person who preferred to play God rather than talk to him. A liar, a gossip, a slanderer. In that moment she knew she was without a hope should the chest pains grow worse and demand her life.

No wonder she feared death. She thought of the lake of fire, the eternal lake of fire, and suddenly she was desperate for God’s saving grace and mercy. Desperate to know she was free from her calloused past.

“Forgive me!” She cried out the words, begging God to hear her. “I’m sorry. Please change me.”

Doris sobbed, remembering the precious child she’d been, repulsed by the monster she’d become. As her tears slowed,
she caught her breath and realized something had changed.

The fear was gone.

Confess your sins to one another so that you may be healed.…

Confess. Yes, that was it. It wasn’t too late after all. She would call Tanner and confess. The realization should have brought her peace, but instead she was seized by a new kind of chest pain. This time it felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest.

Call Tanner, my daughter. Confess.…

I’ll do it. It’s what I need to do
. Her breathing had become labored, and she struggled to find the energy to move. What was happening to her? The pains grew worse in response, and suddenly she knew.

She was having a heart attack.

She was going to die without having a chance to tell Tanner. He hadn’t called her since his return from Portland, and somehow she was certain he’d found out about her lies. Fading in and out of consciousness, Doris gasped for breath and thought how sad it was that she would die at peace with God and at odds with her favorite son.