Read Contingency (Covenant of Trust) Online
Authors: Paula Wiseman
Contingency (Covenant of Trust) (27 page)
He wanted to stop there, but after a quick glance around the room, he gave the rest of his story. “I was so mad at my dad, I refused to pray for him. I wanted God to zap him, you know? A big lightning bolt or something. But the ... events ... of the last few days made me realize I was wrong. I’m going to pray for him, and I want you guys to, too. I want this to be over for them.”
From where he stood, Brad could see Cooper grinning like a daddy showing off his favorite son.
Confluence
ONE MONTH LATER
Monday, November 21
“Let’s see, I’ve got the writing folders caught up,” Bobbi mumbled as she sorted and restacked the papers on her desk in the after-school quiet. “Next week’s book is ready to go, so all I need are copies of the pilgrim thing, and I’ll be done. That’s if I can
find
the pilgrim thing.” At least it was Monday, and she could just go home without the extra pressure of making dinner for Chuck.
“Ah ha!” she said, pulling the Thanksgiving story page from one of her stacks. “I haven’t completely lost my mind.” Before she could get out of her classroom to the copy machine, her cell phone rang. She dug it out of her tote bag and was surprised to see her sister’s name on the caller ID.
“Bobbi, can we push dinner on Thursday back to four o’clock? Kara and John won’t be here until that morning, so I don’t think I can swing a noon meal.” Not the slightest hint of tension.
“Four’s fine. What can I bring?” She could pretend as well as Rita.
“Just the boys. I’ve got everything else. You could let Ann know.”
“Ann ... volunteered to work. She’s staying in South Carolina.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll miss her.”
“What about Chuck?”
“What about him?” The edge returned to Rita’s voice.
“He’s not invited?”
“I didn’t think he would want to be here with things still so strained.”
“I have dinner with him three times a week. It’s no big deal anymore.”
“Even so—”
“Four o’clock, then. We’ll be there.” Bobbi clicked the phone off, almost hanging up on her sister. With Rita, the issues were black or white, choose her or Chuck.
Bobbi made her copies, locked her desk, and headed home.
Just one more half day.
She longed for the holiday weekend. Teaching sapped every bit of her strength. Her students enjoyed the morning game of reminding Mrs. Molinsky what they did the previous day. If only it were a game.
She let herself in the empty house and dropped her bag by the stairs. The boys had gone home with Jeremy and Nathan Schoenberger, and wouldn’t be back until after nine o’clock. Dinner for one required far too much effort, so she pulled one of Joel’s vanilla fudge Pop-Tarts from the cabinet. She carried it and a half glass of milk to the living room, and collapsed on the sofa.
She watched as twilight and then darkness overcame the last light in the living room.
Like a heavy, dark blanket ...
a smothering blanket ...
The mantel clock chimed the half hour.
Time passes, day after day, and nothing changes. Nothing ever changes.
Bobbi pulled the afghan around her.
This is how Daddy felt, isn’t it? Hopeless ... And he gave up ...
How tempting. No more fighting. No more trying. No more struggling. But where would Brad and Joel find themselves in twenty or twenty-five years after growing up with a mother who couldn’t cope?
She reached for the phone, then hesitated. She couldn’t call Ann. Not Rita. Certainly not Chuck
.
She had one option. She dialed the Shannons, praying that Donna would answer, but after two rings, she hung up.
Donna has enough going on. I just need a good night’s sleep.
Within moments, the phone rang. “Bobbi, I saw where you’d called,” Donna said. “Did you need something?”
“No, I dialed your number by mistake.”
“Is everything all right, Honey?”
“I’m fine,” Bobbi lied.
“Do you want to go get a cup of coffee?”
“Thanks, but I can’t. The boys are at a movie and I ... well, I told them I’d be at home.”
“Sure, I understand. You sound like you need some company. Can I bring a coffee to you?”
Could she take that risk? Could she afford not to? “I think I’d like that. Thank you.”
*******
Fifteen minutes later
, Bobbi answered the door and Donna began apologizing before she even stepped inside. “I got to Dear Joe and realized I never asked you what kind of coffee you wanted.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’ll drink any kind,” Bobbi said, trying to smile. “Any kind of
coffee,
that is. All those other things are for sissies.”
“I got my two favorites and you can have your choice.” Donna opened the bag. “There’s hazelnut and cinnamon breakfast.”
“Hazelnut. What do I owe you?”
“Not a thing. It’s on me.”
“At least let me have your jacket, then.” She hung Donna’s jacket in the hall closet. “We can sit in the living room.” Bobbi switched on a lamp and she and Donna settled on opposite ends of the sofa.
Where do I start? How do I begin?
Donna rescued her. “How are you?”
“The truth?”
“That’s up to you. I could probably guess, though.”
“So I’m not doing such a good job hiding everything after all.”
“You might be. Let’s just say I have an inside track.”
“Phil?”
“No, Phil never tells me what you discuss in counseling. He either says, ‘we had a good session’ or ‘keep praying for Bobbi and Chuck.’”
Bobbi stared into her coffee cup. “I feel like I’m losing my sanity. I can’t remember anything. I can’t concentrate. It’s all I can do to get through a day.”
“How are things with Chuck?”
“I don’t see how it’s ever going to be resolved.”
“Does it seem kind of pointless to keep going through counseling?”
She couldn’t tell her counselor’s wife, ‘yes, it’s pointless.’ “It’s not Phil’s fault. He’s gracious and understanding, but we’re not getting anywhere. I know he’s aggravated with me.”
“No, he’s not, but he does know you’re not making a lot of progress.” Donna took a long sip from her coffee. “Honey, can I be real honest with you?”
“Of course.” She set her coffee on the end table, hoping that meant Donna had the answer.
“You’re holding on to something. I’m not sure what it is, but until you let go of it, you’re stuck right here.”
“But I’ve done all the right things. I told Chuck I loved him. I encouraged Brad and Joel to forgive their dad. I’ve even defended him to Rita ...” Emotion choked off her words.
Donna slid down the couch and took her hand.
“I want to forgive him. I told Chuck I forgave him, but I can’t go back to how things were.” Bobbi wiped her eyes.
“You’re still angry, but not just at Chuck. Who else has betrayed you?”
“No one.”
“What about God? You’re angry with Him for pulling the props out from under you, for not protecting you from this.”
How could Donna know? Yes, God had betrayed her, but she never dared to form that thought, much less voice it. That was heresy, to accuse God that way, wasn’t it? Bobbi clenched her jaw, as if to physically prevent the words from escaping her lips.
Donna dropped her head, almost apologizing. “Honey, you can’t heal your marriage until you deal with this.”
“Deal with this?” Bobbi stood, paced away from the sofa, and spoke to the living room ceiling. “I’m supposed to go to God and say, ‘You know, I expected a little more out of You. Chuck’s just a man, after all. I expected him to let me down.’”
“Yes, just like that,” Donna said with a smile.
“I can’t talk to God like that.”
“But He already knows your thoughts. It’s freeing to be that honest and real with God.”
“So you want me to yell at God?”
“No, I want you to bring all that stuffed emotion into the light. Own it, so He can heal it. He won’t heal what you try to hide from Him.”
Bobbi shuffled back and dropped on the sofa.
He’s not going to heal anything, period.
She snatched her coffee cup off the end table and gulped half the contents.
“You haven’t told Chuck any of this, have you?” Donna asked. “That’s not fair to him.”
“I don’t have a choice.” Bobbi took the last drink from her coffee, giving her the chance to push things down deep inside once again.
“You absolutely do have a choice. What are you afraid of?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not being honest with Chuck or anyone else because you’re afraid of something.”
Afraid to trust Chuck … Afraid things will never get any better ... Afraid my boys are scarred ...
“You don’t have to tell me. That’s not the point, but you can’t go on like this. I’ve struggled all my adult life with depression and the things you’ve said, or left unsaid, are as familiar to me as my own thoughts.”
“Depression?” That was for neurotics. She might be irritated, frustrated, or angry even, but she was
not
depressed.
“It started when I was twenty-four years old. Phil was in graduate school, nearly finished, trying to discern if he was being called into the ministry or not. His dad had just died unexpectedly. David was a baby. I had a complete emotional collapse.”
Donna stared off across the living room. “Phil was a psychology major, and he saw it all coming, bless his heart. I think he understood more about what went on inside my head than I did. He ended up dropping out of school just short of his master’s degree, and by the time I was straightened out, he’d decided on seminary.”
“Phil was a psychology major?” Bobbi asked, trying to divert the conversation.
“He surely was,” Donna said with a smile. “He wanted to go into marriage and family therapy of all things.”
“And here he gets all that, plus pastoring a church.”
“Now I know where you’re going with this.” Donna chided, pointing a finger in a teasing reproof. “There is nothing that Phil would rather be doing than working with you and Chuck.”
“Well, we’re putting him through his paces.”
“He can handle it.” Donna finished off her coffee and set the cup on the floor beside the sofa. “Now, despite your attempts to change the subject,” Donna teased, then her smile faded, “you’re in a spiritual and emotional crisis. Please, get some help before things get worse.”
“How could they possibly get worse?”
“Depression won’t let go of you.” Donna’s sincere intensity unnerved Bobbi. “It will take you from wishing this would all go away, to thinking things would be so much easier if you weren’t around, maybe to the point of making plans.”
“Plans? You mean suicide?”
Donna nodded. “You won’t shock me if you’ve thought about it.”
Bobbi had wished this would all go away, more than once. How many times had she been out driving, and just for a fleeting instant, hoped a big truck would cross the centerline in front of her? A tear made its way down Bobbi’s cheek. Donna pegged her.
“Honey, listen to me. You need to take care of yourself first and foremost. There’s no sense trying to go through marriage counseling right now. You need to see a doctor, and you need to tell Chuck ... everything.”
“Chuck doesn’t deserve—”
“Bobbi, don’t you wish your daddy would’ve shared his heart with you and Rita?”
“Of course,” Bobbi whispered.
“Because you love him.”
Bobbi nodded, tears flowing now.
“Honey, Chuck loves you, and I believe you love him. Let him walk through this with you.”
Before Bobbi could protest or offer excuses, the front door opened. “Hey, Mom!” Brad called.
Bobbi wiped her eyes and swallowed all traces of emotion. “In here. How was the movie?”
“Better than homework,” Brad said, then he waved at Donna. “Oh, hi!”
“Hi boys,” Donna said, standing. “I’ll get going, Bobbi. Do you guys have school tomorrow?”
“Just a half day,” Joel said.
“Well, enjoy your break.” Donna took her jacket from Bobbi.
“Thank you for coming over,” she said. “I mean that.”
Donna gave Bobbi a gentle hug. “Think about what I said. I speak from experience. I know it’s hard and it seems like it’s never going to change, but it can, and it will. Phil says ‘even the longest day has its end.’”
*******
Tuesday, November 22
Bobbi surprised Chuck
when she suggested eating out so close to Thanksgiving. He’d carried retirement fund paperwork around with him for weeks, watching for the right opportunity, but the longer he waited, the more he wavered. He had to get Bobbi’s signature tonight.
