The Living Room (30 page)

Amy woke up Saturday morning at the usual time, but then, realizing she didn’t have to go to work, she rolled over and slept blissfully for another thirty minutes. When she awoke again, Jeff’s spot in the bed was empty. She went downstairs and found him in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading his Bible. Amy poured a cup.

“Mind if I sit down?” she asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“It’s okay.” Jeff slid the Bible away.

“What are you reading?” Amy asked after she sat next to him.

“Doing my own study,” Jeff replied cryptically. He took a sip of
coffee. “I’ve had second thoughts about the way I handled the meeting the other day at the school.”

“Did Megan say anything to you?” Amy asked.

“No. What got me started was the verse you’re using in your new book, the one about exposing the deeds of darkness. It made me ask myself about any darkness in me. The first thing that came up was how I felt toward Nate Drexel and what he did to Megan.”

After fifteen years of marriage, Jeff could still surprise Amy. Ninety-five percent of the time he was completely predictable, but when he varied from his usual pattern, the results could be startling.

“What he did was terrible,” Jeff continued. “But I went into the meeting thinking it was my job to make sure he knew how bad it was. That’s God’s job, not mine. Trying to impose my will even if I’m sincere and it’s for a good cause isn’t the way real repentance works.”

“Where did you find that?”

“In Romans it says that God’s kindness leads to repentance. There was nothing kind in my heart or mind when I walked into the door of the school. I’m not even sure what God’s kindness would have looked like.”

Amy took a bigger sip of coffee. “I admire a man who can repent before eight o’clock in the morning.”

“It shows that the stuff you hear in your dreams isn’t just for you to use in your novels.”

“That’s what Ms. Burris said,” Amy replied, sitting up straighter. “She told me the deeds of darkness might have a practical impact on my life. It wouldn’t be limited to inspiration for a work of fiction that teaches a lesson.”

“And it may not apply to you. I doubt you have any big, bad, dark spots,” Jeff said.

“I do,” Amy replied.

“Name one,” Jeff shot back.

“Charging too much on the credit card,” Amy said. She thought of a few others but didn’t continue.

“That’s not in the dark. I see what you spend every month, and
I only brought it up when things were so financially tight before Christmas.”

“Every woman has areas of insecurity where darkness likes to hide.”

“Don’t get superspiritual on me,” Jeff said. “And don’t make anything up. I can tell in half a second if you’re not on the level.”

Amy smiled. “It’s good to have a personal lie detector test in the house.”

Jeff shook his head. “You’re the most honest person I know.”

Amy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re wrong, but you might want to share some of this with Megan. It would help her, too.” Amy glanced at the clock on the wall of the kitchen. “I’m going to take her to dance practice at nine. I’ll report back to you later about my sins.”

While getting dressed, Amy thought about her fears that lived in the dark. Those things might not be actions, but that didn’t mean they weren’t deeds of darkness. Jeff’s attempt to paint her as pristinely pure was sweet, but darkness hid in every human heart.

Even hers.

twenty

A
fter she dropped Megan off at dance practice, Amy returned home. Jeff and Ian were in the garage cleaning out the back of Jeff’s truck. She pulled in behind them.

“Mom, you’re going to have to move your car,” Ian said. “Dad and I are going to leave as soon as we’re finished.”

“Where?” Amy asked Jeff.

“Over to Calvin Harris’s place in the country.”

“To ride four-wheelers!” Ian added excitedly.

Calvin was a man who worked on Jeff’s crew. Depending on the season of the year, his idea of fun often involved the death of a wild animal.

“There won’t be any guns,” Jeff said, anticipating Amy’s next question. “Several fathers are bringing their sons to ride on a closed course. There will be helmets for everyone, and Ian will be with an adult. I’m not going to let him get in with a teenage driver.”

“Tell her about the mudholes,” Ian said.

Hands on hips, Amy stood with her head tilted to the side. She raised her eyebrows.

“It’s part of the fun,” Jeff said. “They fill up some low spots with water to make it muddy so the four-wheelers will slip and slide a little bit.”

“What if you get stuck?”

“There’s a winch they hook onto a tree to pull us out. But most of the trail is through the woods. There’s even a place at the top of a hill to get out and enjoy the view.”

“What happens to the mud that gets thrown up by the tires? Where does it go?”

“Ian is wearing old clothes, and I have a different outfit for him on the floorboard of the truck. There’s an old hunting cabin nearby where he can clean up and change when we finish.”

“Does this cabin have hot water?”

“Not unless we fire up the propane water heater. I’ll ask Calvin to do that if he hasn’t already thought about it.”

Amy wasn’t buying Jeff’s idyllic interpretation of the planned activities. Nothing from her hidden memory bank of nighttime visions flashed into view with warning signs around it, but there was still a mother’s normal concern about dangerous activities.

“Don’t be running all over the place alone,” Amy said to Ian, whose eyes were electric with excitement. “And wear your seat belt.”

“The driver and passengers are strapped in with a four-point harness,” Jeff said. “It will be safety first and fun second.”

“Dad’s bringing the video camera so we can show you what happens,” Ian said.

“How long will you be gone?” Amy asked.

“Until late this afternoon,” Jeff replied. “We’re going to cook over an open fire for lunch. With a quiet house all to yourself, I thought you could get a lot of writing done.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?”

“It was a last-minute discussion at work yesterday, and Calvin only confirmed everything with me after you left with Megan. I didn’t want to mention it to Ian and get his hopes up if we weren’t going to go.”

Ian came over and gave Amy a hug.

“Don’t worry, Mom. Bobby has a video game with four-wheelers in it. I’ve been practicing, but it’s going to be way more fun to do the real thing.”

Jeff and Ian got in the truck and backed down the driveway. Amy knew they were about to create a memory that Ian would never forget. She went inside the quiet house and poured herself a second cup of coffee. If she didn’t have to write, she would enjoy putting her feet up in the family room and staring absentmindedly out into space. Instead, she carefully carried the cup of coffee up the steep stairs and turned on her computer.

After bowing her head for a brief prayer, Amy started working in earnest on the first chapter of the new novel. Typically, the chapters in her books were between three thousand and four thousand words. Writing nine thousand to twelve thousand words in two weeks while continuing to work at the law office, fulfill her duties as a wife and mother, and overcome the seeds of doubt sown by Natalie and Ms. Burris was daunting. Adding to the pressure was the fact that it always took longer to complete the early chapters of a manuscript. The setup of the story, like the foundation for a house, needed to be solid so it could support the remainder of the novel. It was also important to layer in foreshadowing of events that would be revealed at a later time.

Amy had done a lot of brainstorming in preparing the synopsis and written a rough draft of the opening scene. Much of that scene could be used; however, it didn’t include the teenage niece. The first thing she did was rewrite the scene to include the niece sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the second bedroom beside Roxanne’s baby boy. The presence of the older girl immediately created another basis of sympathy for Roxanne. Not only was she a young mother cruelly deprived of a husband’s love and help, she was willing to share the slender crust of bread she had left with a vulnerable girl in even greater need. A good story is built on a protagonist the reader wants to root for—a person whose budding goodness can be fully forged in the furnace of affliction provided by the plot. Based on that formula, Roxanne was an ingot with unlimited potential.

The identification Amy felt with the main character as she wrote was encouraging. She was able to transfer her own feelings directly
to the page, particularly when describing the sense of abandonment Roxanne experienced because her wrongly imprisoned husband was absent from the family. To communicate emotion at a deep level so early in a story was a new phenomenon for Amy.

After writing almost fifteen hundred words, she saved the file and closed her laptop. She glanced at a digital clock on a small desk against the wall. She’d been working almost three hours; however, the intensity of her concentration made the time pass quickly.

Driving to the studio, Amy decided to take Megan out to lunch. It wouldn’t be as dramatic an outing as Ian’s four-wheeling adventure, but it would send a message to Megan that Amy wanted to be with her and do what she wanted to do. When Amy arrived at the studio, she came face-to-face with Greg Ryan.

“Mr. Ryan,” Amy said in surprise.

“Mrs. Clarke, how are you?” Ryan smiled broadly. “I stopped by for a few minutes to watch Megan and one of the other girls dance. Megan told me about the routine they were working on, and it sounded cool.”

Amy nodded her head. Ryan glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m sure Megan told you about the meeting with Nate Drexel.”

“Yes.”

“How did she feel about it? I haven’t had a chance to follow up with her.”

Amy was determined not to say anything negative about Jeff.

“There were some positives. We’ll see what happens from here. Megan appreciated you being there for her.”

“She’s a great kid, and it’s easy to want to help that kind of student.” Ryan lowered his voice and leaned in a bit closer. “I know your husband was upset, and I don’t blame him. I tried to imagine how I’d feel in his shoes.”

Megan came running up. She’d changed from her leotards into street clothes.

“Thanks for coming, Mr. Ryan,” she said. “I’ll let you know when Ms. Carlton schedules the real performance.”

“I hope I can make it. I know you’ll be fantastic.” Ryan nodded to Amy. “Nice talking to you.”

The teacher left. Megan ran over and picked up her gym bag.

“Isn’t he the best ever?” Megan said when she returned.

“Who else did he come to watch?” Amy asked.

“Molly Prichard,” Amy replied. “She’s in his senior seminar class. I hope he’s still at the school when I’m a senior. It would be awesome to have him one-on-one.”

“Where would you like to eat lunch?” Amy asked once they were in the car. “Dad and Ian went four-wheeling.”

Megan was texting on her phone. She looked up.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“I’d like to take you out for lunch. What sounds good to you?”

Before Megan answered, Amy’s phone beeped. It was Jeff.

“Hello,” she said.

“We’re on our way to the hospital,” Jeff said. “It looks like Ian may have broken his left arm.”

“What?”

“He hit his arm on a tree.”

“Are you in an ambulance?” Amy asked frantically.

“No, I’m taking him. I should be at the ER in less than five minutes if you can meet us there.”

“I’m on my way.”

“What happened?” Megan asked.

“Ian may have a broken arm. We’ve got to go to the hospital.”

“Can you take me home first?” Megan asked. “It’s not that far out of the way, and you could be stuck at the hospital for hours.”

Amy stared at Megan as if her daughter were an alien transported into the car from another planet.

“Are you serious?” she asked in a shrill voice.