The Perfect Life (14 page)

The world was real enough at the moment, thank you very much. More reality I didn't need.

Susan came to stand beside me. We exchanged a glance. I was the first to look away.

“You've had it pretty good, Kat. Great childhood with loving parents. You've always been happy in your marriage. You were able to be a stay-at-home mom, just like you wanted, and Brad supported you in that decision. If he ever objected, I sure never heard it. But what man would when he's being catered to by his wife?”

My gaze shot back to her as I opened my mouth to object, but she raised a hand to silence me.

“Sorry. That was the feminist coming out in me.” She gave me a quick smile. “Anyway, like I was saying, you've had things just the way you wanted them. Until now, your kids haven't had anything worse happen to them than the sniffles or the flu. Your home is lovely, and you shine as a hostess. Seems like your God's blessed you for a long, long time.”

“Yes,” I answered softly.

“It's pretty easy to believe in Him when everything's going your way, isn't it? Not so easy when you hit a few bumps in the road.”

I looked at her again. “It's not a mere bump when your husband is accused of a crime and may have been unfaithful and your daughter miscarries her baby.”

“No.” She shook her head, her expression sad. “And I'm not trying to be cruel or minimize how much you're hurting. But I am trying to make you think. Think or talk or scream or break something. Anything to get out all that garbage you're bottling up inside.”

“I'm not the screaming type.”

“No, you like to appear like you're all together. But girlfriend, you're not. Not all the time. No one is. Life happens to us. Things get broken, hearts included. We're kidding ourselves when we think we're in control.”

“God's in control,” I whispered.

She raised her brows and tilted her head slightly to one side, as if to say,
then act like it.

Closing my eyes, I rubbed my temples with the tips of my fingers. I needed an ibuprofen. My head felt like it could split in two.

“I'm sorry if I upset you. I only want to help.”

I knew that. I knew Susan loved me and would bend over backward to make things better if she could.

“I'm going to leave. I'm due back at the office.”

I opened my eyes.

“Think about what I said.”

I nodded.

She leaned over and kissed my cheek.“Call me.”Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Any time, day or night. I'm here for you.” Then she left.

A squirrel chattered from a tree in the neighbor's yard. A sprinkler stuttered on the other side of the fence. The day was warm, but it was pleasant in the shade of the covered patio. The air smelled of spring, unfolding leaves, thickening grass, budding flowers.

Spring. Life renewing itself. Fresh beginnings.

I raised my eyes toward heaven.

Help me.

I seemed to crumple in upon myself, and the next thing I knew, I was kneeling on the concrete slab, bent forward at the waist, my face hidden in my hands.

Brad

HE SAT IN HIS CAR, WHITE-KNUCKLED HANDS CLUTCHING
the steering wheel. Beyond the guardrail of the overlook was a sharp drop into the reservoir. How long would it take to find somebody who accidentally drove into those deep,murky waters? The spring runoff had filled Lucky Peak to capacity. It could take days to find a missing car if it was going fast enough when it hit the railing.

The thought seemed momentarily inviting. He'd lost two of the things that mattered most to him—the love and trust of his wife, the respect of his friends and colleagues. He didn't know if he could ever win those things back. And if he couldn't?

He'd reached the end of himself and had nowhere left to turn. He couldn't turn to Katherine. She'd made that clear enough. The same with Hayley. Among the members of his immediate family, only Emma remained steadfastly in his corner. Some men he'd considered good friends—his Christian brothers—had withdrawn from him as well. And it hurt.

Not that he would actually take his own life. He trusted God too much for that. But right now he understood why some gave in to the temptation. His life seemed broken beyond repair, his strength used up.

God help me.
He looked up at the sky, piercing blue spotted with cotton ball clouds. “What do I do now?”

He hadn't found a job yet and time weighed heavy on his hands. He wasn't used to being idle. He'd lived at full throttle for too many years. Now when he got up in the morning, very little lay before him besides wondering how to put his life, his marriage, his family back together again.

No, suicide wasn't the answer, but he thought this would be a fine time for the Lord to return.

Come, Lord Jesus.

He looked one more time at the guardrail, then turned the key in the ignition, put the car in drive, and pulled out of the parking area.

Eighteen

A TOSSED GREEN SALAD WAITED IN THE REFRIGERATOR
next to the deviled eggs and two steaks. I glanced at the clock on the stove, wondering if I should start the grill. That was Brad's job, but he wasn't home.

Where is he?

He'd left the house early this morning to fill out more job applications. Maybe he'd found work. What a relief that would be. I felt anxious every time I opened the checkbook, uncertain when we would see some income again.

Maybe I should look for work too.

Doing what? I had some office skills but nothing that would look impressive on a résumé.My proficiency on the computer had been acquired at home on my own time. Even my work for In Step had been as a volunteer. I hadn't drawn a salary since I quit a wait-ressing job soon after I became pregnant with Hayley—I was twenty-one at the time. Who would be interested in a forty-five-year- old housewife whose last place of employment was a local diner more than two decades ago? Burger King? McDonald's?

I shuddered.

Susan was right. I'd lived exactly the life I wanted. I'd chosen marriage instead of a college degree. I'd chosen babies instead of a career. Maybe I was a throwback to another era, but I'd loved my old-fashioned life as a wife,mom,and homemaker. I wouldn't have changed a single thing.

Now I wondered, had I made a mistake? Other women, like Susan, could support themselves. They'd worked their way up the corporate ladder. They weren't dependent upon husbands.

Like Nicole.

Oh, how I hated her. How I wished I could rid my mind of her, once and for all. I would have done it if I knew how. But thoughts of her hovered around the edges of my life, every minute, every second of every day.

Did Brad think about her, too?

“Stop it!” I slammed my right fist down on the kitchen counter. Pain shot up my arm. I groaned as I shook my hand, mad at myself, mad at my husband, mad at the world.

Mad at God.

My marriage was in crisis. Our livelihood had vanished. My husband may have lied to me, may have broken trust with the community. Hayley had lost her baby. My life made no sense to me, and I was used to things making sense.

Susan's voice taunted me again: “
It's pretty easy to believe in
Him when everything's going your way, isn't it?”
Even hours later, the words hadn't lost their sting. Worse still, I feared she might be right. I feared my faith was weak, too weak to withstand the onslaught of trouble.

This time it was the words of the apostle James that taunted me:
whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity
for joy.

I used to think I knew what that looked like, but I didn't. I had no clue how to feel joy over or in my present circumstances. No clue at all.

The closing of the door drew me around. My gaze met Brad's as he stepped into the kitchen. I didn't need to ask if he'd found work. I could tell by the look on his face that he hadn't.

I asked anyway. “No luck?”

“No luck.”

“I didn't think you'd be gone so long.”

“I stopped by the church. I wanted to talk to Mike about . . . something, but he wasn't in. Then I got asked to work with some volunteers in the benevolence garden.”He looked at the palms of his hands. “It felt good to do something physical.”

Did Brad consider his current troubles an opportunity for joy?

I turned toward the kitchen counter. “I've got steaks ready to barbecue.”

“Good. I'm famished. I didn't take time to eat lunch. I'll fire up the grill and then go wash up.”

“Okay.” I set several tomatoes in the sink and turned on the cold water to rinse them. By the time I looked over my shoulder again, Brad had disappeared.

I let out a deep breath.

I hated the way I was around him. When he was gone, I wanted him home. I wanted to know where he was and what he was doing every instant. But when he was with me, it wasn't any better. I remained anxious and tense. Part of me feared he would reach for me, want to hold me, want to kiss me. I'd let him do that when I shouldn't have. Because it felt like another lie. It felt as if I were promising things would get better between us, and I didn't know if it was true.

I reached for a knife and sliced the tomatoes on the granite countertop, wishing I knew what tomorrow would bring, wishing I knew how this would all end.

Nineteen

IT WAS
MOTHER'S
DAY, BUT I
DIDN'T
GO TO CHURCH. SINCE
the last Sunday I was there—three weeks earlier—our private lives had become public knowledge, unflattering information splashed across television screens and newspaper columns. I wasn't ready to look members of the congregation in the eye. Not yet.

“I should be able to do what I want on Mother's Day,” I'd told Emma over the phone on Saturday, “and what I want is to stay home.”

“Jason and I were going to take you and Dad out for brunch after church.”

“I'd rather stay home. I don't want to risk running into reporters.”

“Hayley and Steve are coming, too.”

“Your sister isn't up to going out. It's much too soon after her miscarriage.”

“Didn't you know, Mom? She's going back to work on Monday.”

“No. I didn't know. She didn't tell me when I talked to her. When did she make that decision? Has she—”

“Her doctor said it was all right. So you see, it won't hurt her to go out to eat with the family tomorrow. We could all go to second service and then to brunch afterward.”

“Except I don't want to go. Not to church and not out to eat.”

“But Mom—”

“No, Emma. Not this year.”

She'd tried several more times to convince me, but in the end, I had my way. She'd been none too happy by the time she hung up the phone.

Brad hadn't been happy either. Only, unlike our youngest daughter, he hadn't wasted his breath trying to change my mind. I suppose he'd recognized the stubborn set of my chin.