Better (Too Good series) (10 page)

Cadence star
ed, unable to absorb the words.

Mark put his arm around Cadence’s waist. Mrs. Miller tensed at the sight of him.

“Hello,” she said stiffly.

“Lydia,” Mark replied, inclining his head.

“But he’s wrong,” Cadence whispered. “Why are you obeying him if he’s wrong?”

“It’s not that simple,” Mrs. Miller said.

“Actually it is,” Mark argued. “It is that simple. You have a daughter who needs you. And you reject her because your husband’s crazy.”

“Don’t you dare—”

“He
is
crazy,” Mark interrupted. “And selfish. And abusive. And you know it. But you had a chance to show Cadence that you weren’t like that. That you love her and care about her and will do anything to have a relationship with her. You’re her mother, for Christ’s sake!”

Mrs. Miller’s eyes glazed over with fresh tears. Mark averted his eyes. He
couldn’t look at her. He was too tempted to tell her what a pathetic woman and mother she was.

H
e tightened his grip around Cadence’s waist instead. He focused on communicating to her how much he loved her—how he would always fight for her and protect her.

“I have to go,” Mrs. Miller said.

Cadence said nothing. She just stared at her mother perplexed. It’s the look a child gives a parent when she truly has no idea what she’s done wrong. You see the brain working hard, trying to understand, but clarity remains elusive behind furrowed brows.

“Cadence, I . . .” But there was nothing left to say.
Mrs. Miller turned and walked away.

Cadence craned her neck and watched
her mother walk out of the store and out of sight.

“We can go home,” Mark said gently.

She shook her head. “I want bedding.”

“Cadence, let’s leave all this. It’s not important right now,” Mark urged.

“Yes, it is!” she screamed. A few heads turned in their direction. She walked over to the sheets sets and started searching. “Maybe a neutral color?” she asked, ignoring the tears that plopped onto the plastic casings.

Mark approached her with the cart and played pretend. She wanted to buy new bedding, so he’d help her. It was excruciating watching her cry as she searched through colors and textures, but it’s what she wanted. And he would respect that.

“I like this green color,” she said, holding the set up for him to see. The tears streamed from her eyes. “Or this buttery yellow. That’s pretty and sunshiny. Too girly?” she asked.

He studied the sets she was holding. “I like them both.”

She dropped her arms. “Really?” She opened her hands and watched the sets tumble to the floor.

“Maybe b-blue?” she choked out
, reaching for another set. And then she couldn’t pretend anymore. She turned to Mark, a look of wild desperation and hurt on her face, and he gathered her up in his arms. She cried hard—so hard that an employee approached them and asked if there was anything she could do.

“Bring her mother back,” Mark said, and the employee didn’t know how to respond.

He sat down in the corner of the bedding section and pulled her onto his lap. He rocked her side to side and kissed her temple. He whispered soothing words into her ear. He let her pour out all the anger and grief she’d stored up for the past several weeks onto his shoulder, into his neck. He held her tightly and waited for the sobbing to subside. And then she relaxed. He felt the tension melt away from her body. Utter exhaustion from the tears she’d spilled. He asked if she wanted to go home, and she nodded. They stood up, and she reached for his hand. He took it, and led her out.

***

He sat in his worn leather club chair in the corner of their bedroom watching her over the top of his book. She was deep in thought, eyes moving slowly over the tissue-paper pages of her Bible.

He couldn’t resist. “What are you reading about?”

“Love,” she replied, not looking up.

“What book?”

“1 Corinthians,” she said.

Mark thought for a moment. “But you said you didn’t like Paul.”

Cadence closed her Bible and looked at Mark. “I’m not a fan of Paul, but seeing as how he wrote most of the New Testament, I’m kinda stuck with him.”

Mark chuckled. “Why read it at all then?”

“Because there’s good stuff in here!” she replied, and then she quoted, “‘If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal’. That’s poetry, my friend.”

“So I guess Paul isn’t so bad,” Mark replied.

Cadence shrugged and pulled her hair over her shoulder. “I still think he was a freaking misogynist.”

Mark laughed. “Why?”

“He was always telling women what to do. I’d have been like, ‘Step off’.”

“Give me an example,” Mark said.

Cadence thought for a moment. “All right. What’s the deal with him telling women to be silent in church? How about EVERYBODY be silent in church when the pastor’s preaching? How about that?”

“You gotta read it in context,” Mark explained.

“What do you mean?”

“The culture of the time. He’s talking to a specific group of women in a specific church.”

Cadence looked shocked. “How do you know this?”

“I know stuff, Cadence. Just because I’m not a Christian doesn’t mean I haven’t studied the Bible. It is a historical text, you know.”

Cadence grinned. “Well then, teach me.”

Mark eyed her curiously. “Okay. Paul was talking about the Corinthian church. The custom during that time period was for men and women to sit on separate sides of the church. So women were separated from their husbands. If they had a question
about the teaching, they’d shout to their husbands across the aisle. And it caused disruption in the church. So Paul told them to be quiet and to ask their husbands questions when they got home.”

Cadence stared at Mark for a moment before replying, “Are you making that up?”

Mark smiled. “No.”

“So that doesn’t really have anything to do with the modern-day woman, right?”

“I think if anyone is shouting in church, someone should tell that person to be quiet. Man. Woman. Child. Whatever.”

“Where did you learn that?” Cadence asked. She played with the ends of her hair as she leaned against the headboard.

“I took a religion course as an undergrad.”

“What else can you explain to me about Paul? ‘Cause I’m not the only woman on the planet who’s got a problem with him.”

Mark laughed. “You’re definitely not.”

Cadence waited. Mark walked to the bed and sat down beside her.

“No one understands what he meant when he said wives should submit to their husbands,” he said. “Including your mother.”

Cadence tensed. “I don’t wanna talk about that,” she whispered.

“We don’t have to,” Mark said. “But I want you to know something: Your mother is wrong. She’s not doing what God wants her to do. Because if she were, she’d call you and spend time with you and have a relationship with you.”

Cadence hung her head
. And then she opened her Bible and continued reading.

“Wanna put that aside for a little bit?” Mark asked. He tugged on the book gently, but she tightened her grip.

“I’m studying.”

“Is this for class?”

“No. It’s for me.”

Mark leaned over and kissed her neck. “I can help you study other things.”

Cadence squirmed. “Do I bother you when you’re working?”

“All the time,” he replied, nuzzling her neck.

She giggled. “Stop! And go away.”

“But I wanna hang out.”

“Well, I’m hanging out with God right now.”

Mark sighed and walked to the bedroom door.

“Hey,” Cadence called. He turned around and looked at her. “I need you to understand something.”

He nodded.

“I love you. I love you very much. But I love God more.”

Mark stared at her for a moment. He could have easily been offended. God didn’t rescue her from her dad. Give her a place to live. Take care of her. Feed her. God didn’t hol
d her at night when she cried about the loss of her family. He didn’t comfort her and encourage her. And if he did, Mark didn’t see. What he saw instead was a girl who still clung desperately to a way of life she didn’t know how to let go of—a girl convinced that God was all-powerful and benevolent and loving, when Mark knew better. He knew a different God. One who took and punished and cast him into years of darkness and despair.

“Did I upset you?” Cadence asked softly.

“Not at all,” Mark replied. He closed the door gently behind him.

***

They stared at one another, then at the doctor, then at one another again.

“Impossible,” Andy breathed.

“Not impossible,” Dr. Stanwick replied. “Improbable, yes. But not impossible.”

“I’m on birth control!” Andy exclaimed.

“Not now you aren’t,” the doctor replied. “Stop taking those pills immediately.”

“What are we gonna do?” Mark breathed. The women looked at him confused. He rubbed his forehead.

“What do you mean what are we gonna do?” Andy asked. “Our only option is to have it.”

“It is?”

“Mark!”

“I’m going to step o
ut for a few moments so you two can talk,” Dr. Stanwick said. She left the room, making sure to close the door securely.

“Mark?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you thinking?” Andy asked.

“I’m thinking that this wasn’t part of the plan right now. I’m thinking I’m wiggin’ out. I’m thinking I’m not sure I’m ready to be a dad at twenty-five. I’m thinking we can’t afford this baby. I’m thinking—”

“Okay. Calm down,” Andy interjected. She rubbed Mark’s back. “It’s okay. I know you’re spinning. You’ve got a lot to think about. I mean, I get it. I know you’re a planner and have a hard time with surprises.”

“Andy, this isn’t a surprise, all right? This is a freaking huge anvil falling on my head!”

Andy cracked a grin. “I know.”

“How will I provide for us? I’m a teacher! I was planning on going back to school. You know this. How can I pay for that and afford a baby and figure out how to scrape money together to buy a house, and—”

Andy silenced him with a kiss. It was tender at first, just light lips on lips. But then she teased
his mouth open and found his tongue. He thought he shouldn’t kiss her like that in a doctor’s office, but it’s what she wanted. He tried to respond to her, but he couldn’t connect. His mind focused on dread. It snuck in and wrapped around his heart as soon as the doctor confirmed Andy’s pregnancy. He couldn’t make sense of it. Yes, he was scared to be a father so young, but it really had to do with something else. Fear of the unknown. A foreshadowing of future events that wouldn’t turn out as he’d hoped. He almost pulled away and cried, “No!”

Almost.

Andy sat back on the examining table and smiled at Mark.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said.

He sighed. “I knew I’d eventually take issue with your whole go-with-the-flow attitude.”

She giggled. “That’s exactly why you need someone like me in your life! You’re so uptight and scheduled all the time.”

“Hey! Not fair,” he said, nudging her.

And then she burst out laughing.

“What?” he asked indignantly.

She shook her head. “This couldn’t be more perfect for you. The control freak loses control.
I love it!”

He snorted and mumbled, “I don’t.”

“You’re not even the littlest bit excited?” she asked. She rubbed her flat stomach, and he noticed. That made it official. There were no other options on the table after the stomach rub. She was having this baby, and told him without even saying the words aloud.

He knew to tell her what she wanted to hear. Sometimes that
’s what you had to do with women.

“I am,” he replied. “I’m scared, but
if you feel like this is what God wants for us, then I’m in.”

“I want you to feel it, too,” Andy said. She looked at him expectantly.

He stared back. “I do,” he lied.

She nodded.
“I trust him.”

“I know.”

Mark never had a reason not to trust God. God was there for him when his father passed away. He was there for him when he needed that scholarship money for school. He was even there to warn him about a potentially disastrous relationship with a girl he thought he was head over heels in love with. Yes, he trusted God. He had a sinking feeling in his heart that he couldn’t shake, but sure, he trusted God.

“You really didn’t have to do this, Cadence,” Fanny said, snipping the ends of the flowers and arranging them in a vintage hobnail vase. “I know how expensive flowers are.”

Cadence grinned and plopped down in a seat at Fanny’s kitchen table.

“It’s no big deal,” she replied. “And anyway, it’s your anniversary.”

Fanny chuckled. “Yeah. And they’re usually better when both parties are living!”

“You said you still celebrate it,” Cadence pointed out.

“I do. Usually just by myself, though,” Fanny said, sticking the last rose in place.

“I’m sorry,” Cadence whispered. “
Want me to leave?”

“Nonsense! I want you right here. I enjoy your company. You make me feel young.”

“Well, you give me advice, so I guess we’re even.”

Fanny laughed.

“I got you this, too,” Cadence said, pushing a small jewelry box over to Fanny.

“Cadence, you need to be saving your money,” Fanny admonished.

“Oh, just open it!”

Fanny unwrapped the box carefully and lifted the lid.

“How beautiful,” she said softly, fingering the pendant.

“It’s the Trinity knot,” Cadence explained. “It symbolizes eternal love. I thought it made sense for your anniversary.”

Fanny took the necklace out of the box and secured it around her neck.

“It most certainly
is
fitting. And I love it. Thank you, honey.” She leaned over and hugged Cadence. “You’re very thoughtful,” she whispered in Cadence’s ear.

Cadence smiled and leaned back in her chair. “Actually, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

“About?” Fanny took a seat across from her at the table.

Cadence almost blurted, “Dr. Callahan,” but today was the wrong day to describe for Fanny her future boyfriend. Cadence grinned and said instead,
“Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out on the whole college experience.”

“How so? You’re
in
college.”

Cadence smiled patiently. “Yes, but I don’t live on campus. I’m not right in it, knowing what’s going on all the time.”

Fanny nodded.

“
I feel disconnected.”

“Have you talked to Mark about this?” Fanny asked.

“No. I don’t wanna hurt his feelings.”

“I don’t think you would.”

“He does have emotions, Fanny,” Cadence pointed out.

“I’m aware of that, missy. But I’m sure he could appreciate how you feel considering he’s been there himself. And I know he wouldn’t want you to feel like you’re missing out on anything.”

“So what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey Mark. I think I wanna live on campus for a while. Is that okay?’ That’s stupid.”

“Do you want to live on campus for a while? Have you ever been in a dorm room?” Fanny asked.

Cadence chuckled. “Well, no. I’m going to a dorm tomorrow night for a study session, though.”

Fanny cracked a smile. “Okay. You let me know what you think after your study session. ‘Cause I have a feeling you’ll be happy that you live in a cute little apartment instead.”

Cadence chuckled. Fanny watched her carefully.

“Have you heard from your mom or dad?”

Cadence grimaced. “I saw Mom at Bed Bath and Beyond the other day.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to change the subject?”

Cadence shrugged.

“Are things better between you two?”

Cadence shook her head. She tried to block that day from her memory. She was embarrassed about her breakdown in the bedding section of the store. Falling asleep in Mark’s car on the way home helped. He actually carried her into the apartment and put her to bed. When she woke up, she felt an emptiness in her heart mixed with the determination to forget. She had to forget her parents if she had any chance of moving on and feeling normal. She was tired of crying over them.

“No,” Cadence said. “She explained that she had to respect my dad’s decision to cut me off from the family. She said she was being obedient.”

“Obedient?” Fanny asked. She bristled.

“That’s what she said.”

“Excuse me when I say that your mother is an idiot.”

“You can say whatever you like,” Cadence replied.
“Mark did. To her face.” At this point, Cadence almost didn’t care.

“Has anyone ever explained submission to you?”

“No. I just ignore that part in the Bible. Plus, it doesn’t apply to me anyway. I’m not married.”

Fanny smirked. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be married one day.”

Cadence brightened at that. She remembered fantasizing about marrying Mark when she knew him as “Mr. Connelly.” It happened in the last stall of the upstairs bathroom at school. She read his note over and over and dreamed of a future with him.

She giggled.

“What?” Fanny asked.

“I’m just thinking about when I fantasized about marrying
Mark. While I read his note.”

“Ah
, yes. The Mexican food note,” Fanny said, and Cadence nodded.

“But back to what you were saying. No one’s ever explained it to me. I just figured it meant that women weren’t as important to God as men were, so he put men in charge.”

Fanny’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

“How should I know? I mean, I don’t think that women aren’t as important as men. I’m not sure God looks at us that way either, but let me tell you: All evidence in the Bible points to ‘men lead, women follow’.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” Fanny cried.

Cadence shrugged. “I don’t understand it!
Give me a break!”

Fanny sighed. “Eh, no one does. Wanna talk about
one of the most contentious verses in the Bible? There she is.”

“What does it mean?” Cadence prodded.

“Well, it was explained to me like this. How effective are two leaders in a group?”

Cadence stared.

“I’m guessing not as effective as one leader. Why? Because two leaders will often argue with one another, and then shit never gets done.”

Cadence nodded.

“If there’s only one leader making the final decision—and notice I said
final
—then shit usually gets done.”

“Okay. I see that.”

“Now, in a marriage, if you have two people trying to lead, you end up with what looks like a two-headed monster. Not pretty, right?”

Cadence laughed.

“Lots of arguing, no decision-making, nothing getting done.”

“Uh huh.”

“So God had to make a decision to put someone in charge.”

“
Why the man? Why not the woman? I mean, we’re pretty much better at everything. Multi-tasking. Making decisions. Getting shit done. That’s a woman thing.”

Fanny chuckled. “Very true.
But I think maybe God chose the man to lead to give us a break. Because we do so much. If the husband leads, the wife can take a breather. If the husband leads, he’s held accountable. And I don’t know about you, but I liked the idea of my husband being the one who answered to God in our marriage. Since, you know, that’s a pretty heavy thing.”

Cadence thought for a moment. “So what? The wife is absolved of everything?”

“Seriously, honey? Um, no. But I do believe that when God looks at the family unit, he’s looking to the husband. ‘How are you leading? How are you being responsible? How are you caring for your wife? How are you showing her love?’—I imagine he asks these questions.”

“So wives don’t have a say in the decision-making process?”

“I never said that. Wives definitely have a voice. They are just as loved and valued by God as their husbands. In fact, I like to think that God loves his daughters just a little bit more.” She winked, and Cadence smiled. “Why do you think he saved us for last? The last creation. The best one.”

Cadence blushed.

“And any man worth having should recognize that,” Fanny said.

Cadence thought for a moment. “I like when Mark leads. Does that make me a weak woman? That I like feeling protected and taken care of?”

“Absolutely not. I think it’s natural,” Fanny replied. “But don’t discount your own strength, Cadence. The things you bring to that relationship. Mark needs you. Does that make him weak? No. He recognizes the void in his heart and needs you to fill it. Just like you recognize your need to be protected. Neither of you are weak. If anything, recognizing those needs makes you stronger individuals.”

“You should be a teacher,” Cadence said.

“I was,” Fanny replied. She stared off past Cadence’s cheek to a spot in the distance. “Many years ago.”

Silence descended on the tiny kitchen. Cadence didn’t think it was appropriate to talk just then. Fanny was thinking of something in her past, and it
was important to let her reminisce.

“I taught history,” she said suddenly.

“History?”

“Yep. American history.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I told you my course schedule? Could have been coming over here to let you do my American history homework.”

“Cute,” Fanny replied. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’ve got an ‘A’,” Cadence said.

“Then why
do you need my help?”

“Oh, it’d just be one less thing I’d have to do—my history homework, that is,” Cadence said.

Fanny chuckled. “Mark is really lucky to have you in his life. Think he knows it?”

Cadence laughed. “I’ll let you know if I go home and dinner’s already made.”

“Ha!”

Cadence stayed another hour, chatting with Fanny about her deceased husband. She shared hilarious stories of their first few months of marriage, and Cadence took
mental notes. She wasn’t married to Mark, but she lived with him, so everything Fanny explained to her applied.

She returned home to the delicious aroma of soup. It filled the entire apartment and made her stomach growl as soon as she walked through the door. The dining room table was set. A candle was lit. Glasses of wine had already been poured. Fresh flowers sat in the center of the table.

She pulled out her cell phone and called Fanny.

***

Cadence turned left out of the elevator. She wandered down the dorm hall looking for Room 24. But the numbers were too low, and she realized she went the wrong way. She was just about to turn around before glimpsing a message left on a tiny whiteboard attached to someone’s door:

“S
tudent union at 5 sharp. Got someone I want you to meet. – Lindsay”

Cadence stared at the smiley face beside the word “meet.” She wondered if it was a blind date set-up and if Lindsay’s friend would be happy about it. She knew Michael was waiting, but she decided to read a few more messages.

She strolled the hall in no particular hurry, stopping at each door, reading the notes of students who were experiencing college in a very different way from her. She had no idea how long she stood in front of Room 8 staring at the hearts someone drew on the board. She had no idea why she couldn’t control her impulse to draw her own hearts, and reached for the pink marker hanging by a string. She gripped the marker like it was her lifeline to this other world.

She traced the outline of a heart in the lower corner of the board, then colored it in carefully.

“Hi?”

Cadence jumped back, dropping the marker.
It slapped against the door in the deafening silence of the hallway.

“Do I know you?” the girl asked, pulling her room key from her book bag.

Cadence shook her head.

The girl furrowed her brows. “Do you, like, just walk around writing on people’s boards? Because that’s weird.”

Cadence shook her head. Again.

The girl smiled sweetly. “Are you lost?” she asked in a gentle, condescending tone. “Can you speak?”

“Oh my God!” Cadence cried. She turned and headed in the opposite direction.