Wearing My Halo Tilted (10 page)

When I caught up with her in the lobby area, her face was so shiny and wet. When she saw me, new tears welled up in her eyes trickling down her worried chin. There were no words, I just hugged her. Her mom was ninety-five; I knew this was hard for her. She walked me back there to the room as she told me all about the hard fall that took place in the nursing home. Her mom had been there for two months now. Ever since her mother got In-care, her quality of life had faded.

A woman that I had always known to be strong, and encourage me in my own life's walk, was breaking. As I held her, I tried helping her hold it together. I knew it was nothing but the Lord allowing me to be here for her in this hard time.

“I don't think she's gonna be okay this time, Shari. I just don't,” she finally uttered.

Seeing her frail mom, I really regretted that this was the only time I'd seen her because I'd been so busy with millions of other excuses that had come up. She did look quite worn out.
But how else is a ninety-five-year-old woman supposed to look,
I thought, trying to give myself hope that she was going to pull through.

Then Mrs. Kindle said in a weird tone, “She was tired. Earlier she called out for God to just come and take her. And though she has Alzheimers, I really believe she was in her right mind when she said that.” We held hands. “Wait, I thought you were with a play, what are you doing here?” she said, putting the conversation back on me.

“Don't you worry about me. I'm just here to stand by your side right now. There's no other place I'd rather be. I got a little time to lend you.”

“Matthew had to head over to the church. He'll be back pretty soon. Yeah, Reverend Kindle and the boys were up here with me early this morning. Her doctors are going to make my mom stay here in the intensive care unit.” Mrs. Kindle let go of my hand and went over and rubbed her mom's head.

Lord,
I prayed,
I wish there was something else I could do.

As if Mrs. Kindle read my mind, she said, “I'm just glad you're here, dear.”

I prayed for her mom, and I was happy just to meet her. Mrs. Kindle never let me get away without talking about me. I loved her for that. So I was real with her and told her everything that was going on in my crazy life. Forget about judgment, I needed to confess.

Her only advice was for me to seek God's direction and not follow my own heart. She reminded me God would lead me the right way, and I might very well lead myself astray. Quickly, I hugged her. I brushed her mom's hand and saw a sweet smile come across her face, and then I left.

 

 

Driving home, I wondered how long I'd be on this earth. And to be ninety-five! God, I couldn't even imagine. The things that could happen and all the years to possibly come. If I were to be at the end of my journey, be it immediately or sixty-five years from now, I wanted to make sure I was living holy so that I wouldn't have any regrets. And with that I could smile.

I couldn't get into my house fast enough, when my three- and one-year-old sweethearts jumped into my arms. I could barely hold the two of them, but I wasn't going to let them down. In so many ways I didn't ever want to let them go. My three-year-old talked so much I could see she was excited to see her mom and had missed me terribly. My mom was kind enough to give us some time. She was washing dishes. My husband, with nothing to do but lead a training camp, couldn't even keep the house clean.

I could tell my girls missed their house too. As they played downstairs in the playroom, my mom and I both sat in the adjoining room on the couch, folding clothes.

“You know,” I said. “Has he been over to your house a lot?”

“No.”

No sooner had I asked than I hear the whirring of the garage door opening up. Even though we were in the basement that was a sound I was all too familiar with. When things were great, I remembered my husband having late nights at work, and me being so excited, waiting around in my lingerie, happy to hear the garage door open so that I could give him a special surprise. But over the last few months, the sound of the garage door opening had been torture.

My happy mood had grown dim when I heard that sound. Right then was no different. I didn't even realize that I sighed out loud, until my mom said, “Shari, what's really going on? Are you scared for your life or something?” Her question almost pierced my throat.

I couldn't even swallow it made me sick. Because truthfully, though I knew Dillon wasn't that crazy, his anger was still unpredictable.

“You're here, Mom, and things are going to be fine.”

“Well, I'm not leaving you alone,” she said to me.

As she folded the last pair of his socks, my husband came straight down to the basement. The girls stopped watching
Barney
and gave him an even bigger hug than they'd given me earlier. I wasn't jealous though. I actually hated the fact that they had missed their dad. He should see them more often.

Not so Dillon would misunderstand anything, I quickly said to him, “I'll be headed out soon. I just came to see the kids.”

“Why'd you do that here?” he said harshly, trying to talk low so my mom wouldn't hear. “You could've seen them over at her house.”

“I wasn't headed in my mom's direction. And since I didn't have that much time, she brought them up here. Plus, the girls really miss the house. They wanted to see their rooms and all that kinda stuff so we're here.”

“Well, you didn't come to see me so no need in telling me what's going on now. Where's your boyfriend?”

“I explained all that. Don't be petty.”

“You're lucky your mom's here,” he sneered at me.

As if he had a split personality, he smiled and picked up our oldest daughter. He lifted her up over his head and placed her on his neck. Gently, he bent down to scoop up the little wobbler and held our youngest in his arms. They thought he could do no wrong.

“Mommy, Mommy, come follow us. Come, Mom, come! We're going to play monster, come, Mom, come!” my oldest said.

My mother got up and picked up some of Dillon's clothes. They made small talk and then he told her he'd see her next week. She headed upstairs after looking at me to make sure I was okay.

When I gave her the nod my husband roughly asked, after my mom was out of sight, “What, you supposed to be scared of me now?” He dropped down to his knees and set down our girls, and said, “Girls, go around the corner. Daddy will be there to play in a second.”

He sung the
Barney
theme song as they went out of view. I knew it was about to be on. I took a deep breath to get ready.

“You don't have to worry about me, darling. We are over! You wanna get with somebody else, that's fine. You wanna move out that's fine. I don't care what you do,” Dillon stated as he grabbed my arm and then released it.

As I watched him walk away from me and go over to the girls, I prayed,
Lord, is this Your will or am I walking my own way, headed astray. My marriage feels over and I'm numb about it, what does this mean ? Help. There's no spark, no glow, and no twinkle.

I
t was so hard saying good-bye to my babies, watching the light fade from my girls' eyes as my mom drove out the driveway. Though I'd been with them for hours, I wanted to spend more time with my girls. That was a good thing. The past few months I hadn't been the best mom. I was so focused on what I didn't have that I failed to appreciate and give my all to what the Lord had blessed me with. Thankfully, time away from them changed that.

Before my mom got completely away from the house, she stopped. Then she zoomed the car back to me. When her window went down, her eyes held tears.

“How much longer are you gonna be here?” she said when I came to her side of the car.

“Not much longer.” I leaned down into the car window and smiled at my babies in the back. I was so in love with them at that moment. I could've taken both Stori and Starr and eaten them as if they were candy.

My mom interrupted my thoughts of them by saying, “I'm serious. I'm worried about how long you plan to stay here. Shari, is it okay to leave you here with Dillon?” The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. He stormed upstairs too fast and left us in the basement. I nodded. It was going to be okay, but I looked up at my big old house and prayed it would get bigger. Him on one side and me on the other. If that happened, I wouldn't even have to run into the crazy joker.

“My cell phone is on. Call me if you need to,” she said. “Wave at your mom.”

As they did, I cried.

Walking back through the garage, it seemed so natural for me to talk to God. I was scared and there weren't any second thoughts about it. Not that I thought he would punch the wall, yell like a maniac, or throw things around the house, which had been known to happen from time-to-time, but it was the silent treatment. His disapproval of what I was doing was just too much for me to take. Now I knew I needed God's help and I quickly needed to gather my stuff and get the heck out of the way.

Soon as I opened up the bedroom door, my husband startled me.

“I heard the garage door go up, I thought you were gone,” he said in a noncaring way.

“Oh, I'll be out of here in a sec. I just gotta grab my stuff.” I went around him with no problem.

But then he shouted, “Hey.”

I felt my heart rate increase. What was the harsh “hey” about? What did he have to say to me? What in the world did he want?

“You know you really hurt me. Going on a date with some other guy and everything. That's all I wanted to say. I just wanted you to know that. Go ahead and get your crap.” Dillon then turned and walked toward his favorite spot in the house, the basement.

Though my heart rate slowed down with his intimidating presence out of the room, I felt nauseated. I didn't think I was capable of hurting his feelings anymore. His dictating ways clearly let me know I didn't phase him. However, he let down his guard and told me he was vulnerable and showed me that I still mattered.

Lord, what in the world am I doing?
I prayed as I sat down on the stairs. He couldn't see me, but I knew he knew that he had gotten to me.

During the plane ride back to Texas, I realized that my husband's words were still twirling around in my brain. Though I needed a nap desperately, he had me stumped. I'd been going without much rest for the past few days, but I couldn't relax. I was so uptight, so uneasy. My husband told me I had hurt him and, though he had hurt me too with his unacceptable tyrant ways, I didn't mean to get back at him like that, or did I? Subconsciously, did I want him to hurt like he made me hurt?
Of course I did,
I thought to myself. If only I'd hurt him wouldn't he come and try to work it out, hug me, or kiss me and try to apologize for the drama he bestowed upon me.

I was as confused as the hazy fog to the left of the plane. Even though I told my husband I went out for business and that I wasn't on a date with the hunk I'd cooed over for years, he didn't buy it. I didn't either. My conscience was referring to Bryce as the man I was intrigued with. I had to be honest with myself. I had strong feelings for another. How in the world was all this going to play out? Was there any way that the Lord could use messed-up me? I hoped I hadn't let Him down too bad.

 

 

“Wow, you look hot,” Melvin said as he picked me up from the airport. “Are there anymore bags?”

“No,” I said as I blushed, wishing Dillon had noticed my new hairdo. “That's all.” He gave me a hug and then I hopped into the passenger side of the car. “So what did you do to my boy?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The boy got back yesterday and he's acting like a man that's got a woman on his mind. The only thing he wants to talk about is you. I've never seen him so distracted. I've been his road manager for over three years now.”

“He's a nice man. We had lots of laughs. That's all. Promise you, I did nothing to him.”

“He wouldn't give up any details, but something's going on there and I like it,” Melvin said as he eased onto the freeway. “Bryce has been ringing my phone trying to find out if you made it in. He was hoping the plane wouldn't be delayed. He's made some special plans for you guys before the play.”

“Gosh, look at me! I can't go out!” I said all giddy, like a high school girl ready for her first date.

Melvin glanced over at me before looking back at the road. “I just told you how nice you look. I don't give out undeserved compliments. Besides, you're not getting me in trouble with the boss. The place he is taking you to is casual so you're fine anyway. And y'all won't have much time. Only an hour or so before I have to pick you both up and get you over to the Houston Civic Center. Then I'll make sure the bags get taken to your room.”

Melvin dropped me off in front of a Japanese restaurant. I thought I was having déjà vu. How'd I feel about Bryce assuming I wanted to go out with him again? The thought of him just making plans without consulting me made me uneasy inside. However, the moment he opened up my car door and I saw Bryce waiting at the entrance with flowers, all of my resistance melted away like snow does when the sun shines bright. Trying to hide my excitement, I showed all of my teeth, something I rarely did because I hated them. When I noticed what I was doing, I quickly shut my mouth and looked away.

“Come on, smile,” Bryce said. And before I could get all into him for not checking with me before making plans, he apologized for it and said everything right.

“You look beautiful and you smell great. You've just made me more excited about taking the stage tonight.”

We were sitting on the Japanese floor. As he studied my squinted face, he read my mind once again. I was thinking,
Finally, someone else likes sushi just as much as me.
I could eat it again and again, but Dillon, being a steak and potatoes man, would never go for sushi more than once a month, much less back to back. Bryce was connecting with me in many ways. I couldn't help but feel relaxed.

“I hope you don't mind that we're eating sushi again.”

“No,” I uttered in such a soft whisper that I could have been on Mars and been satisfied. “I don't mind at all.” I started smiling again and looked away.

He caught me that time, pushed my cheek back to face him and said, “Why do you do that? Why do you hide your smile?”

“My parents kept braces on me when I was younger and like a stupid head I didn't wear my retainers. My teeth have shifted. I truly hate my smile.”

“It's not ugly, Shari, it's sexy. It's you. Plus, you learned a hard lesson, don't beat yourself up. You should've worn your retainers though. But you can get braces again or you can get overlays.”

“Yeah, right, like I can afford it.”

“Why do you keep making money jokes? I'm gonna fix that tonight.”

“What do you mean you're gonna fix that tonight?”

“I'm gonna fix that tonight, pretty lady. You watch me.” Bryce might not have realized what he was doing, but he fed me raw fish.

With his skin as the extra sauce, the raw fish and rice tasted mesmerizingly delicious. It was so good that I sucked his finger as it exited my mouth. When his eyes appeared as if they wanted to devour me, I realized how much I was turning him on. I couldn't hide my smile then. The twinkle in my eye proved I had the hots for a man that was not my husband.
Lord, help me.

 

 

After I made sure my books were set up nice and neat, I felt a little hungry. So I went around backstage to the greenroom. Before I could enter the door, I heard fierce yelling coming from the room.

“You haven't returned any of my calls and I don't understand what's going on!” the familiar voice of snooty Lacy screamed out.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who she was talking to and I didn't even peek into the room. Yet I was correct when the next voice I heard was that of Bryce's. It was five minutes away from show time. The backstage hallway was completely empty. Most of the actors were on the side wing waiting for the curtain to let up because the first act was a big musical number including the whole cast. The two leads were back here in a heated discussion. I know I should've walked away, but I was frozen solid when I heard Bryce speak.

In a voice fit for a doctor telling a family there was no hope for their loved one, he said, “Look, I'm sorry. It's over, okay? I don't want to hurt you, but that's just the way it is?”

“You're just saying that 'cause you found some new floozy to mess up your mind.”

Okay, I started sweating then. Did she know about us? And was there even an us to know about?

“I tried to cut ties with you before this play even started.”

Lacy ranted, “You said you were going back to your wife not going back to some other—”

“Don't even go there,” he said, cutting her off before any negative, nasty words could come out of her mouth.

“I don't know what I'm going to do.” Lacy changed her voice to that of a pitiful one. “If you leave me, I can't make it. Anyway, no one knows you like I do. We'd have nothing standing in our way once you get your divorce.”

“It's over,” Bryce said with force as I heard footsteps toward my direction.

Bryce was probably headed toward the stage. I couldn't have either of them catch me listening in. The desperation in Lacy's voice was truly a lady in love with a broken heart, and a part of me did feel for her. But I wasn't her doctor and I wasn't trying to make her feel better. She wasn't a nice person to me or others. Whether Bryce and I got together or not. He didn't need to be with her.

“Please don't leave me, please.”

“You gotta let go of me,” he yelled as I saw his foot inch out the frame of the doorway.

I stepped into view, and said, “They're waiting for you guys onstage.”
What a quick save,
I thought in my mind.

“Great.” Bryce looked at me, and said, “Just in time.”

He left the two of us alone. Lacy fell to the floor, water all over her face. She clutched her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth. She appeared in a trance like his words and the separation had really destroyed her. I did completely feel sorry for her at that moment. No woman should be so down that when a man says it's over she can't go on. I went over to a table with scarce appetizers on it, from where the cast had gobbled them up before the show, and grabbed one of two napkins left.

“Here,” I said to her. “You've gotta get back in makeup. We need you on stage.”

As if she wanted to harm me, she uttered, “You.”

I guess I gave her enough motivation that she stood to her feet quickly. The diva got all up in my face waving her hands around. It took all my composure to give her the benefit of the doubt.

To take it up another level, she started spilling out false accusations. “It's because of you he doesn't want me anymore. Look at you, you can't even compare to me. I know he's interested in you. But I swear, it's going to wear out and one day you'll be just like me. Enjoy the ride while you can, because it doesn't last long. And he won't even pull over and let you out. You'll feel like he's going ninety miles an hour and then he'll open the door and push you.”

Lacy didn't grab the napkin out of my hand. She rolled her eyes, grunted at me, and grabbed the last one left on the table. But she wasn't hurting my feelings with her ugliness.

She walked out saying, “I don't need anything from you.”

Leaning back on the door, I sighed. She vented words of a sore loser. But Bryce and I hadn't even committed to anything. Did she really sense I was taking her guy's interest? Plus, Bryce belonged to someone else anyway. She didn't need to get upset with me.

For me, the night was starting out like any other. Nothing spectacular in terms of my sales numbers; four or five books sold. Leading up to intermission, Mel frantically came over.

“Come on, you gotta grab your stuff,” he huffed, out of breath.

“What do you mean my stuff? All my books?” I asked with a dumbfounded glare.

Motioning for me to hurry, he said, “Well, just one book should be good I think. Also, get your purse or your personals. I gotta take you backstage. We don't have much time.”

“What for?”

Mel placed his hand on my shoulder. “Bryce needs you onstage. Come on, come on, come on! Girl, you 'bout to be large, come on!”

I got the point then. Bryce wanted to introduce me. I hustled up my black Brighton bag. I had just splurged on it at the airport. Then I picked up one copy of my book.