Return to Me (12 page)

From all appearances, Roxy had received her just desserts in Nashville, but here at home —

Wyatt and her father rose to their feet and the sanctuary filled with song, surprising Elena. She’d been so lost in thought she missed the last half of the sermon, not to mention the closing prayer.

She stood too, mouthing the words of the familiar praise song by rote.

Leave it to Roxy to ruin her Sunday along with everything else.

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Twelve

By nature, Jonathan was an early riser. No need for an alarm clock. His mind and body liked being up before sunrise, a time when even the birds were silent. The coffeemaker turned on each morn- ing right about the time Jonathan finished his forty-five minute workout in his home gym— a twenty-minute run on the treadmill, followed by twenty minutes with the weights, and a five-minute cooldown on the recumbent bike.

On this Monday, after his exercise routine and a quick shower — Jonathan never lingered under the pulsating spray — he dressed, then went to the kitchen, poured himself a large mug of coffee, and took it into the solarium. He sat and flipped on the LED floor lamp beside his favorite chair, directing the cool pool of light onto his lap.

“ ‘May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.’” He took his Bible from the end table beside his chair and opened it.

But he didn’t read. Not yet. Instead, he thought of Roxy.

Father God, lead her to You by Your Spirit.

Something happened to his younger daughter in church yes- terday. Jonathan didn’t know what it was. He hadn’t asked and she hadn’t offered. But he hoped she felt God’s presence.

How appropriate that Steve Welch preached on the parable of the Prodigal Son. If the pastor hadn’t been teaching a series from the gospel of Luke for the past month, Jonathan might have thought the sermon topic was chosen with his family in mind.

Sin . . . foolishness . . . shame . . .

Love . . . grace . . . forgiveness . . .

Lord, let her feel Your love.

Roxy looked better after a week at home. Not as gaunt and weary. But there was still so much worldliness in her eyes, some- thing that told him she’d seen life’s underbelly and been scarred by it.

How do I help her?

His little girl was a woman, not a child. Yet she would always be
his
child, no matter her age. Like most parents, Jonathan wanted to make his daughter’s pain go away. Except sometimes pain was a good thing. Pain could send a man to the hospital for medical attention, for help that could save his life. If the pain in Roxy’s heart would turn her to Christ, if it would cause her to seek His help so that her eternal life would be saved, then Jonathan didn’t want it removed.

Illumine the path, Lord. Don’t let me get ahead of You.

He thumbed through the pages of his Bible, his gaze skimming notes in the margin and the many underscored passages. This book was an old friend. They had a history together, the two of them. He’d spent years reading the pages between these well-worn leather covers. There wasn’t a single verse that he hadn’t read many times, yet he constantly found new lessons when he opened the Bible to read again. He didn’t doubt that the answer for Roxy’s pain, for her life, lay within God’s written Word.

He flipped the pages back the other direction until he arrived at Psalm 91, and as he read the words, he made them a silent prayer for Roxy, asking God to draw her into His dwelling place so that she might find refuge there.

=

Roxy smashed the palm of her hand against the alarm clock, a groan rumbling in her chest. She hadn’t fallen asleep until 2:00

A
.
M
. Restless, thoughts racing, she’d tossed and turned so much the top sheet pulled loose. Now it was time to shower and get ready for her first day at a new job. A job she could fail at, the same way she failed as a singer. No, worse than that. She had
some
talent as a singer. She had none for office work.

Beggars can’t be choosers
, her grandmother would have said. All too true.

She rolled out of bed, shuffled with half-closed eyes to the bathroom, turned on the water in the shower stall, shed her night- shirt while waiting for the hot water to arrive, then got in. She stood beneath the spray, eyes closed. It didn’t help much.

Not to wake her up.

Not to make her feel better about the day ahead.

Why hadn’t she been smarter with her money when she went to Nashville? Why didn’t she work harder, concentrate on her career? Why didn’t she stay away from men and clubs, late nights and liquor?

Because I’m stupid, stupid, stupid.

She remembered another morning about four years ago. Pete had found her a spot as a backup singer in a recording studio, but the night before she was to begin, she stayed out late, partying and dancing
⎯
her usual scene. She arrived at the studio about forty minutes late, bleary-eyed and a little the worse for wear but ready to work.

“Mr. Dennis called in a replacement,” the receptionist said when Roxy asked to be buzzed through the locked doors.

“Look, traffic was bad. It’s not my fault I’m late. It won’t hap- pen again.”

“Sorry.”

“Just let me talk to Mr. Dennis. I know he’ll understand if I have a chance to explain. I want this job.”

The receptionist shook her head. “He said he wasn’t to be disturbed.”

That wasn’t the first job Roxy had lost, nor was it the last. She’d been fired for tardiness and for losing her temper. She’d lost singing jobs and waitressing jobs. But she always had a good excuse. It was always someone else’s fault, never hers.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

With a sigh, she reached for the shampoo, hoping to wash away the memories as she washed her hair.

Nothing had turned out the way it was supposed to. Nothing. Elena had the career she wanted and a place of her own — and she had Wyatt. Roxy had nothing. And she was alone.

You’re not alone. God loves you.

Despite the hot water running over her, she shivered. It was that same voice in her head that left her sleepless most of the night. She didn’t like it. She wanted it to go away. God was fine for her dad and sister. Even for Wyatt, if that’s what he wanted. But she wasn’t the religious type. She had better things to do with her life than listen to a list of dos and don’ts. God was dreamed up by people back when they lived in animal skins and hunted food with bows and arrows or clubs. Religion was a crutch for the weak. Most people didn’t need that crutch these days.

God loves you.

If Roxy wasn’t naked, she would have bolted for the outdoors, as she’d bolted from the church yesterday. She settled for getting out of the shower and turning on the radio, volume cranked high, while she finished preparing for her first day at the Burke corporate offices.

Half an hour later, Roxy entered the kitchen. Her father sat at the breakfast table, the newspaper folded next to his plate, a half-

empty glass of orange juice in his right hand. Standing by the stove, Fortuna turned crisp strips of bacon on the griddle.

“Morning, Dad.”

He smiled. “You look terrific.”

“Thanks.” She smoothed the palms of her hands over the front of her new suit jacket. “I hoped you’d like it.”

“One egg or two?” Fortuna asked over her shoulder. “I’m not sure I want anything to eat. I — ”

“I’ll make one. Breakfast is important.”

“Okay, Fortuna.” She met her father’s gaze and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say,
No point in arguing.

He nodded.

Roxy poured herself a cup of coffee, then turned and leaned against the counter. She felt too restless to sit down, and she knew she wouldn’t eat more than a bite or two of breakfast.

“Nervous?”

She looked at her father over her coffee cup. “I guess.”

“You don’t need to be. Elena and I will help you find your way around.”

She stared into her cup. “I don’t have much in the way of office skills.”

“You’ll learn, Roxy. You’re smart.”

Am I? I don’t feel like it.

“You worry too much,
niña
.” Fortuna carried a plate with a fried egg, two strips of bacon, and a slice of wheat toast to the table. “Come and eat. You’ll feel better when you do.”

Roxy laughed softly. For Fortuna, food was the answer for every problem.

“You can laugh if you want. I know what’s best.”

“Yes, Fortuna. You know what’s best.” Roxy sat at the table and picked up her fork.

Beneath his breath, his eyes downcast, her father said, “Some things never change.”

Matching his low voice, she replied, “Some help you are.” He smiled but he still didn’t look up.

“Say what you will.” Fortuna pretended irritation but fooled no one. “I will have you looking healthy again by your sister’s wed- ding. You’ll see.”

The laughter died inside Roxy. “The wedding’s in June, right?” “Yes, and so much to be done in so little time. At first they said they will wait a year. But now it is only two months.” Fortuna released a sound of exasperation. “How do they think we can plan

a proper wedding in two months?”

Roxy glanced at her father. “Why’d they move the date up?” She tried to sound casual, but inside she wondered if Elena was pregnant. Why else rush to marry? And wouldn’t that be some- thing if it were true? Elena, the perfect little Christian, pregnant out of wedlock. So much for her purity pledge. Maybe Wyatt’s wild side hadn’t changed all that much.

“Wyatt wants them to marry before he leaves for seminary.

That way, Elena can go with him.”

“Seminary?”

“Yes, he — ” Her father frowned. “You didn’t know?” Roxy shook her head.

“I thought one of them would have told you.”

“We haven’t spent that much time together since I got back.” She pushed the egg around her plate with her fork. “What about Wyatt’s law practice? I thought he was doing well with that.”

“He’s leaving the law. He wants to make ministry his full-time vocation. He believes that’s God’s call on his life.”

It didn’t make sense. Why would Wyatt give up something he’d worked so hard to achieve — something he was good at and

where he could charge exorbitant fees— to become, of all things, a pastor? Why would he do that?

Because he has something you don’t
.

If only she knew what that something was.

E
LENA

April 1988

Elena stood at the altar along with two other teens from her church, Ryan and Hannah. She was the oldest at sixteen. Ryan was four- teen, Hannah twelve.

Elena had tried her best to convince Roxy to participate in the ceremony, to no avail. “You should do this with me, Roxy. Dad would like it and so would Grandma Ruth.”

“Quit telling me what I should do. It’s my decision. You waited until you were sixteen. Why should I do it now? Let me make up my own mind.”

No matter what Elena said, Roxy refused to change her mind. It seemed like she got more stubborn and willful every year. And so Elena stood at the altar without her sister, making a pledge to remain pure until marriage.

“I, Elena Burke, promise to myself, my family, my future hus- band, my future children, and my God that I will not engage in sexual activity of any kind before marriage.”

She had prayed about this pledge for several months, want- ing to be certain she didn’t make it lightly. Some of her school friends were already sexually active. A few of them teased her about her virginity. When she suggested the dangers inherent in their behavior — sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy, guilt, shame — they laughed and called her an uptight religious freak.

Some used more cruel names she would never repeat.

“I promise to keep my thoughts and my body pure as a very special gift for the one I will marry.”

Tammy Stuart, one of Elena’s friends, was four months preg- nant. Now the boyfriend was dating another girl and said the baby wasn’t his. He accused Tammy of being with other guys, an accusa- tion that could be true.

“I recognize and cherish the great blessings I will gain from keeping this promise. I invite the help of my father, my grand- mother, my sister, and my friends.”

Her mother had been gone six years now, but Elena remem- bered the way her parents loved each other. She wanted the same kind of relationship when she got married. Whoever her future husband might be, she wanted to give him the special gift of purity. She wanted to have the right to wear white, the way her mother had and her grandmother had.

“I ask You, my Heavenly Father, to strengthen me with Your wisdom and love so that I might keep this promise.”

As Elena slipped the silver purity ring onto her finger, a sense of God’s pleasure warmed her heart, and she knew, no matter what the future held in store, she would never regret making and keep- ing this pledge.

Thirteen

Roxy had a new understanding for those who suffered from claus- trophobia. Four days on the job, sitting in this office hour after hour, and she was about to go stark raving mad. It didn’t help that she couldn’t make sense of the software her sister wanted her to learn. It was Greek to her, along with the half-dozen corporate manuals she’d been given to read.

I’m not cut out for this.

Who was she kidding? She wasn’t cut out for much of anything.

She put the computer in sleep mode and rose from the chair. Maybe a soda would help clear the cobwebs from her head. She took a dollar bill from her wallet and walked down the hall to the pop machines outside the break room, where she made her selection.

“Love your shoes.”

Roxy turned, soda can in hand, and smiled at the twenty-some- thing girl behind her. “Thanks.” She knew they’d been introduced at the start of the week, but she couldn’t recall her name.

“You must shop at Burke’s.” Roxy laughed. “Of course.”

“I’m Jan Haskell. I work in the accounting department.” She fed her dollar into the machine and punched a button. “How’s it going? Are you settling in?”

“Slowly. Other than e-mail and surfing the Internet, I’m not much good on the computer. This is all pretty new to me.”