And the Greatest of These Is Love: A Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (31 page)

They both smiled at that.

“So, what do you want to know?” Andrew asked, thinking how odd it felt on this side of the fence.

Rob turned on the recorder and put his pen on his notebook. “Well, I guess first you can tell me about the little boy.”

He was asleep again on the couch, and as Gabi sat in the chair watching him, the words from so long ago played themselves back in her head

You can’t be a mother. You don’t know the first thing about being a mother. It’s not fun. It’s not uplifting. It’s work, Gabriella!  All the time. Every day. Forever. And then if you’re real, real lucky, your kid comes home one day and says, ‘Guess what, Mom. I’m pregnant!’

The tears formed behind her eyes, but even now she couldn’t let them fall. There were just too many of them there, and if she let the first one fall, a thousand more would surely follow.

“You know, it’s weird. I’m here talking to you, and I see Andrew Clark, but it’s not really you,” Rob said, looking at his friend across the table and shaking his head. “You’ve changed.”

“No, Rob.” Andrew laughed softly, thinking life all the way through, “I just never let anyone see the real me before.”

Rob narrowed his gaze. “So, I don’t understand — why now?”

“You know, I think for the first time in my life I’ve started seeing outside the bars,” Andrew said, and even as he saw the puzzled look cross Rob’s face, he knew he could never adequately describe this new feeling.

“Here’s some more soup, Buddy.” Gabi shoveled the lukewarm, light yellow concoction into the little mouth. He swallowed slowly and then looked at her with no pretense between them.

“Miss T,” he said thoughtfully, and immediately she stopped and looked at him. The look in his eyes, melted every hard place in her heart away. “Thanks for taking care of me. I know you didn’t have to.”

“No, Antonio. I didn’t have to — I wanted to.”

Back in his cell, Andrew let his head relax against the hard wall as he thought about her again. Gabi. Gabriella Treyvillion. The woman he loved. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She had come through for him more times than he could count. She had challenged his beliefs about the kids and the very order of the world, his included.

She challenged him in ways he never knew he needed to be challenged, and she gave love when he needed it — no questions, no strings attached. In fact, it seemed like the only way she wanted him around was without the strings. And at that thought, he sat straight up. But why? Why was she so afraid of the strings? That was it. That was the key he’d been missing.

He pulled his notebook back out and resumed his question writing. The next time he saw her, he would find a way to ask the questions that were keeping them from establishing strings. Somehow, some way, he would find out why.

“Did I miss any place?” Gabi held the Calamine lotion and examined the squiggling form in front of her. Four days of this hadn’t made it any easier to retain her patience, and with the sky darkening her windows earlier and earlier, she, herself was starting to feel like a prisoner. By now, she reasoned it should be getting better, but if anything, it was getting worse by the second.

“It still itches,” Antonio said, scraping himself across the bed.

“Where?”

“My back!”

“Okay, then flip over,” she instructed being careful not to tip the lotion bottle in the process. “Where?”

“All over!” he shrieked. “It itches!”

“How’s Antonio?” Bryan asked, over the phone lines that evening. He had called, just like he did every night since Andrew had landed in jail, and Gabi was glad of that especially now that she was trapped in her own little world that seemed to be collapsing in on her by the second.

“Itchy,” Gabi sighed tiredly. “But he’s sleeping for now.”

“You all right?” he asked as his concern bridged the distance between them.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she sighed, willing herself to believe it though it was getting to be more and more of a challenge. “How’s Andrew?”

Bryan exhaled, and she knew it was not good news.

“I’ve got a very stubborn brother,” Bryan said, matching the tired in her voice. “I’d hoped the press attention would help, but so far we’ve struck out.”

Gabi exhaled slowly — trying like mad to hold onto some shred of hope, but it was getting harder by the second.

“Well, tell him I said hello,” she said, forcing a sad smile onto her face. “And that we miss him. I really wish I could come see him, but under the circumstances, I think I need to be here more.”

“I’m sure he understands, but I’ll be sure to tell him anyway. You keep up the good work, Gabi.”

“Will do,” she said, and the utter exhaustion came through loud and clear over the phone lines. “See ya later, Bryan.”

“Yeah. Take care, Gabi.”

And as she hung up the receiver, she knew somehow she had to find the strength to go on without him because as much as she wished otherwise, Andrew, for all intents and purposes was gone. At first she had believed it would only be for a few hours, a day at the very most, maybe a few days, but here it was a week and a half later, and nothing had changed. Nothing.

“Gabi?” the soft voice called from the bedroom.

“I’m coming, Antonio,” she said without even a second thought.

“I’ve got these three letters ready to go,” Andrew handed the mail to Bryan the second he entered the small room on Sunday.

Bryan took the mail without a word and watched as Andrew sat down. The door closed behind the guard with a thud, and Bryan struggled to choose the right words. “Look, Andrew, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I really think we’ve got to at least consider the possibility of giving them what they want.”

Andrew sat motionless as he let the words float past him.

“I know you don’t want to hear that, but I don’t see any other way. You’ve been in here almost two weeks now. How much longer are you really prepared to stay?”

Bryan watched closely, but his brother never moved.

“Look, I know I’m your attorney, but I’m also your brother, and as your brother, I know there are people out there who need you. Gabi called me last night, and she didn’t have to say what she was thinking, Andrew. She wants you out of here. Antonio wants you out of here. Greg wants you out of here. Heck, I want you out of here!  You’re not doing anyone any good sitting in this jail. You can fool yourself all you want, but this isn’t helping anyone.”

Andrew never moved.

“Think about it, okay, little brother?” Bryan splayed his fingers across the table in front of Andrew and leaned on them. “Woodruff is out there right now walking the streets, and you’re in here. Why? Because you gave your word to someone? Okay. I’ll admit even I thought it was noble at first, but come on, it’s not worth this. I think it’s time you give up the name... and the tapes.”

For the first time since sitting down Andrew’s head moved — at first imperceptibly — and then more forcefully.

“No,” he said softly. “I can’t do that.”

“Jeez!” Bryan said in frustration as he pushed away from the table. “Come on, Andrew! For Pity sake! This is insane!”

“When I gave my word and adopted Antonio, I did that for forever — not for as long as it was easy. What’s the point of giving your word if when things get tough, you run?”

Bryan spun on him. “Andrew, look around you! Your child is sick, he needs you. Your girlfriend is picking up the slack. She needs you! Why can’t you get that?”

“And why can’t you get that I’m doing this for them?” Andrew asked softly, willing his own tears of frustration to stay buried.

“For
them
?!” Bryan yelled in utter disbelief. “How can you even say that?”

“They have to know that when I give my word, it’s forever. Period.”

Bryan shook his head in frustration. “And how long are you planning on staying here?” he asked in desperation. “Huh? How long?”

“Until they decide to let me go, I guess,” Andrew said honestly not knowing another way to answer. “Until then, all I can do is take it one hour at a time and do the best I can with the hand I was dealt.”

“It’s a losing hand, Drew.”

Andrew exhaled slowly. “Yeah? Well, if I throw the cards on the table and fold now, there’s no way I can win.” Then he looked right at his brother. “But if I find a way to stay in the game, there’s still a chance. I have to believe that, and as my lawyer, so do you.”

“I’m hot!” Antonio moaned, his misery transferring right into Gabi’s spirit.

“I know, Sweetheart,” she said, knowing he was suffering but not knowing how to fix it. “Here’s a wash cloth.”

She lay it across the little brow and stood back wishing with each passing second there was more she could do. He looked so tiny and so sick laying in the middle of the pillows. But all they could do now was wait it out.

“Here, how about I read you a story?” she asked as she pulled a book from the nightstand. “When it’s over, I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

He had struggled with it for hours, and even now, there seemed to be no way to bridge the gap between him and the people on the other side of those bars. Andrew wished he could just call her and talk to her — if only for a moment. She’d know what to do. He was sure of it.

But for all his wishing, he was still alone. In the cold, dark cell. This was his decision, and his alone. No one else could help him with this one. No one, except...

And in the darkness for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, the words began forming on his lips.

“Dear Lord, if You’re listening, I could really use Your help here. I know it’s been a long time, and I haven’t exactly been the model of understanding, but please, I don’t know what to do about this anymore. I can’t handle this one my own. I’ve done all I can do, everything I can think to do. I’ve really been trying, but it’s not getting me anywhere. Okay, I guess the truth is, I haven’t been handling it all that well, but really I have been trying to do what’s right.

“But I gotta tell You, what’s right is becoming really hard to figure out. I mean I’ve wanted out from the beginning, but this isn’t about me anymore. It’s about Antonio and Gabi. They really need me right now, and to be honest with You, I need them, too. But at the same time, I don’t want to go back on my promise.

“God, I don’t know what to do anymore,” he said as his head found his hands, and he closed his eyes against the pain in his heart. “I just wanna go home. I just wanna go home. Please. If You can hear me, please, help me find a way to do that...”

It was quickly becoming the longest night of her life. Every time Gabi drifted off to sleep, he would start again.

“I’m hot! I’m itchy! I’m hungry! I’m bored! I’m itchy! I’m hot! I’m itchy! I’m hungry! I’m hot! I’m itchy!”

Over and over and over again until at three a.m. she looked at the clock and seriously considered just walking away from it all. She could call Bryan or Jerry. They could come. They could help.

“I’m hot!” the tiny voice came from the bedroom the second her head hit the pillow on the couch, and she had to fight back the tears.

“Oh, dear Lord,” she said as sheer exhaustion took over her entire body. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“And one more thing,” Andrew said softly to the darkness surrounding him, “please help Gabi. I know she’s doing her best. Please, Lord, please, give her the strength to help Antonio through this. I know what a good mother she is — even if she doesn’t. Please help her see that, too.”

Twisting the cool washcloth in her hands as she stood in the bathroom, Gabi looked up to find the mirrored glass in front of her, and in that instant she saw her mother’s eyes looking back at her.

“You can’t be a mother, Gabriella. Have you lost your mind? You don’t know the first thing about being a mother. It’s not fun. It’s not uplifting. It’s work, Gabi!  All the time. Every day. Forever.”

At that moment as if the past was now somehow touching the present, Gabi looked at herself, staring at the accusing voices she had heard from that moment to this. “Yes, it is work, Mama,” she said to the image staring back from the mirror, “but what you never saw is that it’s worth it. It’s worth everything you have to give... and more. And I can do it. I can. With God helping me, I can.”

With strength she could not remember ever having felt before, she shut the light off behind her and marched back into the bedroom to care for the sick child that had been entrusted to her care.

*              *              *

The Herald ran a front page story on Andrew’s plight Monday morning, and although the edition hit the streets only five hours before the hearing was to begin, somehow it was enough lead time to attract a whole new batch of reporters. Rob’s story had been picked up by the wire services, and it seemed that every paper and news station in the entire nation felt a personal connection to the story. So, by the time the witness was taken from his cell replete with his orange jumpsuit, reporters from all walks of life had jammed into the courtroom to get a glimpse of the now famous witness.

In fact, everyone in town wanted to be in the courtroom that morning — clerks, court reporters, lawyers — they all wanted to watch the proceedings. So no one even questioned the presence of a single, curious Assistant District Attorney who happened to slip in the back doors and take a seat in the very back row just before the proceedings began.

It was a scene reminiscent of David and Goliath as Andrew was led into the courtroom and back to the witness stand to once again face a bureaucracy bent on breaking his spirit, but his decision had been made, and as far as he was concerned it was set firmly in stone. He wouldn’t break. Not now, not ever.

“Mr. Clark,” Judge Carson said, the overwhelming presence of the press and spectators obviously softening his mood. “How are you this morning?”

“Fine,” Andrew said, holding the judge’s gaze with no hesitation.

Judge Carson nodded, barely keeping his gaze from sweeping the spectators before lowering his head even further. “And how’s your little boy?”

“As far as I know, he’s fine,” Andrew said with a nod. Bryan had given him an update only minutes after he’d arrived, and by all accounts Antonio was finally on his way to recovery.

“That’s good to hear.” Judge Carson nodded, and then he busied himself with a stack of papers in front of him obviously not wanting to ask the question that everyone in the room wanted an answer to. Finally, he cleared his throat and peered back at Andrew over his glasses. “Mr. Clark, I want to remind you that you’re still under oath.”

“I understand,” Andrew said, really noticing for the first time the throng gathered in the courtroom, hanging on his every word — for all that had gone wrong in this mess, at least Bryan’s publicity ploy looked to be working for the moment.

Judge Carson cleared his throat again and looked across the courtroom. “Mr. Blankenship, your witness,” he said, peering down at the prosecution table.

Blankenship looked up instantly, and it took a split second for the judge’s words to register. Clark was his witness, and all eyes were now on him.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Your Honor,” Mr. Blankenship said, standing and buttoning his suit coat as though he was fully expecting this turn of events. “Good morning, Mr. Clark.”

Andrew leaned into the microphone. “Good morning.”

Blankenship walked to center stage and smiled at the witness who nodded back. “Mr. Clark, can you please give us the name of the source you cited as ‘anonymous’ in your story dated Oct. 21
st
?”

“No, Sir,” Andrew said evenly, his eyes never wavering from the assistant attorney general’s gaze. “I will not.”

Blankenship sighed as a low murmur crossed the courtroom behind him. He looked severely displeased. “Mr. Clark, will you please tell us the whereabouts of a set of tapes that you quoted from and alleged to exist in that same story?”