Newlywed Games (30 page)

“I’m sorry, but now that you’ve gotten me started I
have a thing or two to say. God is no threat to your relationship with Bruce. He’ll make it better. God loves you as much as He does Bruce or me. You can’t deny the changes in Bruce. God did that. God made the difference.”

“I can’t say it’s for the better.”

“Then you’re not really looking. Bruce is so much happier now; he told me so.”

Confidence surged through her as she spoke…but only for a moment. For right on the heels of her words came a bitter thought.

What right do you have to be saying these things? How can you speak for God when your whole connection to this man before you is a lie?

Meg swallowed with difficulty. It was true. At least, in the world’s eyes. But didn’t God promise His strength in her weaknesses? God was the One who opened the doors for sharing about Him, about His Son. How could she not tell Bruce’s father what she knew? Regardless of her worth, Jesus was definitely worth it!

“Jesus gave His life for you.”

“Humph,” Ivan grunted as he folded his arms across his chest. He looked as if he were daring her to go on. Well, if he was willing to listen, she would speak as the Lord led.

Picking up the Bible, she opened it to John chapter 3 and read of God’s tremendous love and sacrifice for mankind.

“God is pure love and pure good. He is perfect in all ways. He has no sin and can tolerate no sin in His presence. We are sinful creatures. We could never be good enough to get to heaven on our own. So, in His
abundant mercy, He provided the way to Himself. The only way to do that was to sacrifice His only Son. God can do for you what he did for Bruce.”

Ivan stood unmoved, staring down at her, skepticism painting his features. But he didn’t excuse himself and walk away. He stayed, waiting. She couldn’t tell if he was waiting for more or for her to give up. She hoped this was more than just a power struggle with him, that his heart wasn’t so hardened and closed that he really heard none of what she said.

It was like having a staring contest to see who would blink first. Was he testing to see if she would waver or if he would still have power over Bruce?

Though she stumbled on a couple of points and had to backtrack, she felt she had been clear, that God had used her. Still, he stood stoically with his arms folded across his chest, unmoved by the God of the universe who knew the ever-changing number of hairs on his head. He looked more like he was merely tolerating her than listening. But as long as he was going to stand quietly, she would continue for what little good it would do. For the first time in months she felt used by God.

Father God, I have sinned. I see that clearly now. I should have trusted You from the start, regardless of what others said. But I’m in so deep now. How do I get out? Show me the way to truth, to reconciliation with You, with Mom, with Bruce…and even with Ivan. Don’t let my sin cause him to stumble and perish.

Ivan could have left at any time but didn’t. Maybe his heart wasn’t too hard, after all. Maybe he was ready to start listening.

Bruce and Brock returned to the apartment in a shroud of silence. They weren’t trying to be sneaky; there just wasn’t anything to be said between them at the moment.

As they came in the door, Bruce looked up quickly. He could hear Meghann’s voice, and she sounded…impassioned about something. Excitement resounded in her tone.

Exchanging a look of surprise with his brother, Bruce moved closer—and his eyes widened when he realized she was presenting the plan of salvation! But to whom?

He and Brock moved silently to the end of the short entry hall to get a glimpse of whom she spoke to.

When Bruce saw it was their father Meg was talking to, he was stunned. Meghann, in her innocence, had accomplished in a few short days what Bruce hadn’t been able to do in two years! His father, the great and proud Ivan Halloway, was actually allowing someone to talk to him about God.

Bruce’s throat caught with emotion. He had prayed for this many times. In his own arrogance, he assumed he was the only one strong enough to stand up to his father and make him listen. How wrong he was.

At first, he thought he could do it the easy way and get to him through his mother. She would simply pat his hand and say, “Your father wouldn’t like it if I got religion.” Ivan was her god and she would have no other god before him.

He’d decided long ago that his father would probably have to step across the threshold of salvation first. Maybe,
just maybe, Meghann was the one God would use.

Could that be why they’d come together? Could God have intended this from the very beginning?

“God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God.…”

Bruce nodded. God wasn’t responsible for the lie he and Meg had perpetrated. They’d done that on their own. But God
was
using the situation to work his will…in their lives, and in others’ lives as well.

Thank you, Lord!

In that short three-word prayer, the floodgates of his heart opened up and the light shone in. It was all so clear. He felt the overwhelming love he had there for a particular honey blond. He hadn’t felt joy like this since he asked Jesus to come into his heart and be his Savior.

“Your wife is something else.”

Bruce didn’t like the husky emotion in his brother’s compliment, but he had to agree. And even as he did so, a prick of fear threatened to edge out his joy.
“Your wife…”

If only that were true! But Meg wasn’t. And Bruce could still lose her. His heart tightened painfully at the thought. Swallowing hard, he knew he must not allow that to happen. He just couldn’t!

His father’s voice shattered his consuming thoughts and emotions. “Bruce, son, you’re home.”

Bruce looked up, painfully aware his father had cut Meghann off in midsentence. And completely ignored Brock.

He felt his brother stiffen beside him, and he clenched his jaw. How could his father be so blind? So
careless?

Obviously the man’s heart was so hardened, he no longer saw how much he hurt the people who loved him. Despair nudged at Bruce, and he shook his head, wondering if his father had heard—really heard—even one word of the message of hope Meg had just been sharing with him.

Probably not.

And that fact hurt Bruce more deeply than he’d thought possible.

Later that evening outside his apartment building, Bruce and Meghann turned right and headed down the street. Within moments Bruce clasped her hand in his. His touch sent all her senses tingling, and for one, brief moment, she allowed hope into her heart.

Maybe Bruce did care about her. Just a little. And if that were the case, it was a start.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” Bruce’s voice rang with intensity.

“Thank me for what?” The cool night air felt good on her warm skin.

“For talking to my father about God.”

“I don’t think I was very effective.”

“It doesn’t matter. You spoke the truth, and he listened.”

“That’s debatable.”

“You don’t understand. He would never permit anyone, even me, to bring up the subject of religion, let alone talk about God.”

But she hadn’t brought up the topic, his father had. Ivan had seemed almost determined to goad her into the discussion. She had thought maybe he was testing her to see how committed she was to her faith…but now she hoped maybe he was searching and didn’t know how to be so vulnerable as to ask.

“Bruce, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“If your father is so dead set against religion of any kind, how did you and your brother become Christians?”

“My younger brother, Brice, who’s fifteen now, went to a summer church camp with a schoolmate when he was twelve. It changed him. Really changed him. He said he met God. You could say when he returned, he infected me. Father wouldn’t even let him talk about God or his newfound faith. It was so sad the way our father would cut him off and belittle him. It made me feel bad for Brice. So I listened, not because I cared about what he had to say but because I felt sorry for him.”

There was a hint of laughter in his tone, and he gave her a sideways smile. “God gets us when we least expect it, you know? It wasn’t Brice’s words that caught my attention, it was Brice himself…something from within. At the time I thought it was youthful enthusiasm. But soon I saw it was something more. And I wanted it, too. I know now it was an inner peace and a love for the Lord that gave my brother his zeal. My father may regret ever allowing Brice to go to that camp, but I, for one, know it was the best thing that could
have ever happened to our family. And you may be the key to my father. I think you might have unlocked the door to his heart.”

He was giving her far too much credit. “If I did anything, it was simply to nudge the door a little. I think you had already unlocked it.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Whatever your contribution, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

He held both her hands, caressing the backs of them with his thumbs, sending her heart dancing to a wild beat at his endearing gaze.

“I’m in your debt.”

He dipped his head to kiss her hands, and her heart plummeted.

Gratitude. This was only about gratitude. She took a deep breath and her heart sat out the next dance.

While Bruce took care of some hotel business, Brock accompanied Meghann to her cottage again to feed and play with Lucky. On the return trip, they stopped at Macy’s for a pair of earrings Bruce’s mother had seen. Bruce had paid for them the day before as a belated birthday gift for their mother and asked Brock to pick them up.

Since the altercation on the balcony and his apology, Brock seemed to be more friendly and polite, like he was on her side now. Before he seemed to be judging her every move. Now, he accepted her without question. He seemed to want her to know that she was welcome in their family, at least by him. What had Bruce said to him
to make him so accepting of her all of a sudden?

He said he understood when Bruce “explained” things, but just what was it he understood?

“There. That ought to make mother happy.” Brock held up a floral gift bag with plenty of pink tinsel to cushion the purchase.

Meg watched him, frowning. Something was bothering her…something about the way Bruce and Brock spoke of—and to—their mother.

Brock’s smile was tight. “Pink is Mother’s favorite color.”

Understanding washed over Meg. That was it. Both Bruce and his brother had a stiff, formal manner where their mom was concerned.
Mother,
they called her, not
Mom.
As though it were more a title without affection than a loving endearment.

Sadness touched her over how far this family was from each other. “I don’t think your mother would care what color you chose.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t say anything, but she would be disappointed. She covers it well, but it’s there in her eyes if you know what to look for. Mother can be wounded easily.”

He winked at her as he handed her the bag. “I’ll let you carry this. After all, it
is
from you and Bruce.”

His attention to his mother’s feelings warmed her. For all of his formality, he did care what his mother thought. She gave him her most pleasant smile as she received the bag from him.

“I see you’ve found a new playmate,” a condescending voice shattered Meghann’s happy mood.

She turned and stared unwavering into the face of Charmaine Altman. Meg’s stomach turned at the prospect of a confrontation with the woman—and there would be a confrontation; Charmaine would see to that.

“Well, he is awfully cute. I wonder what Brucey will say when he finds out you are spending your days with another man? And that he’s buying you expensive gifts. I best get over to the hotel. I’m sure he’ll need a shoulder to cry on.” Her smile was disgustingly smug.

“Brucey,”
Meghann said with a forced smile, “already knows. And he vastly approves.”

“I doubt that. He’s a very possessive man. I know.” She lifted her chin. “It’s only a matter of time, my dear. Only a matter of time.” With that, Charmaine spun on her spiked heels and left.

Meghann made a face at the woman’s retreating form, then glanced up at Brock to see if he noticed her little unladylike act. He hadn’t. He was still watching the blond bombshell saunter away.

“Meee-ow,” Brock finally said, turning to Meghann. “Who was that?”

“Charmaine Altman,” Meghann said through gritted teeth. “Can we go to my house now?”

When they arrived back at her house, she slipped from the car. “You can go ahead and go,” she said. “I’ll just stay here for a while.”

Brock slid into the driver’s seat, but his expression was hesitant. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you? I could just sit in the car.”

“No, thank you.” Meghann leaned on the open driver’s side window.

Brock touched her forearm gently. “Don’t let her get to you. I’m sure a woman like that could mean nothing to Bruce.”

I wish I were so sure. She once meant something to him.
“Thanks.”

“Meghann…about our father, don’t let him come between you and Bruce. He’ll try to control your lives. What he can’t control, he destroys. Don’t let him do that to you. Bruce deserves better than a broken marriage.”

Why was he telling her this? Why did he even care? It didn’t matter anyway; there was nothing to destroy. His concern touched her. She just wanted a good cry. And she could assure him Bruce would not have a broken marriage over this because there was nothing there in the first place. How could you break something that never existed?

“I just need some time to myself. I’ll be fine.” She didn’t even wait for him to reply or protest further and turned and walked away from the car. She let out a sigh when she heard the car slowly backing out, very slowly, reluctant to leave her with her flying emotions.

Bruce looked anxiously at the door as his brother came in, but without Meghann. Where was she?

“I thought Meghann was with you.”

Brock didn’t answer. He just took hold of Bruce’s arm and pulled him aside. “She was. We ran into an old friend of yours. A Charmaine Altman. The witch had her claws out, and unless I miss my guess, she drew blood.”