Chapter 9
P
amela placed two cans of green beans in the grocery cart, then waited while her mom stocked up on canned vegetables and set them in her own cart.
Callie rested her hand against her belly. “I’m finally feeling less nauseated, but my stomach still cramps something fierce.”
“Just your uterus expanding,” Tammie said.
Callie nodded. “That’s what the doctor said, but it’s kinda scary.” She grabbed a can of sauerkraut and placed it in the cart, then shrugged. “Been craving cabbage.”
Pamela marked off green beans from the grocery list. “I remember that and feeling like there had to be something wrong.”
Callie pointed to her chest. “But I’m a nurse. I knew cramps were to be expected. Just never dreamed they would hurt so much.”
Mom patted Callie’s shoulder. “You’ll likely feel even more discomfort with two babies.”
“Yep. She told me that, too.” Callie clasped her hands together. “But I’m okay with the cramping, as long as everything is all right.” She lifted her shoulders. “I still can’t believe Kirk and I got pregnant so easily. I just figured...”
Mom cupped Callie’s chin. “God is so good.”
Pamela didn’t wait for her sister-in-law and mother. She pushed her cart ahead to the next aisle. Grabbing a couple of boxes of cereal and oatmeal from the shelf, she tried to flush the morning sermon and her mom’s words from her mind.
Everyone wanted to talk about God’s goodness. Sure, He got the Israelites across the river on dry land. Yes, He’d shut the lions’ mouth and kept the Hebrew boys from burning in Nebuchadnezzar’s fire. And he’d brought Callie back to Bloom Hollow, allowed her and Kirk to fall in love again, healed her from cancer and even let her get pregnant.
But He seemed to pick and choose the people to show His goodness to. And some got the shaft. Like Moses. He led the Israelites out of Egypt, got mad at them, rightfully so, and hit a rock, and then God told him he couldn’t see the Promised Land. Or Stephen, a man who’d pledged his life to Jesus, helped the Greek widows, stood up for his belief in Christ and was stoned to death.
And look at me. I thought I was following You, Lord. I wanted to be a good wife and mother. It was all I wanted. Then Jack...
“We’d better hurry.” Her mom’s words broke into her reverie. “It’s almost time to close the activity center and petting zoo, and I want to say goodbye to Ben before he heads back to the university.”
“Yeah, and I don’t know what time Jack is bringing the girls back. I still can’t believe Emma went with him.”
“I think she was really excited to see that new movie,” said Callie.
Pamela rushed through the rest of the shopping. Within moments, they’d paid for their purchases, loaded the SUV and headed back to the farm. By the time they’d unpacked all the groceries, Dad, Kirk and Ben were heading toward the B and B.
“Vegetable soup is on the stove and ready,” said her mom. “Wash up.”
“Sounds good,” Mike said as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Busy today?” asked Callie as Kirk wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.
Pamela’s cheeks warmed. She’d thought and dreamed more about hugs and kisses the past few weeks than she had in eight years, and seeing her brother’s and Callie’s expressions of love and happiness sent shivers of longing through her.
Kirk released his wife, then tapped her nose. “Very.” He laid his hand on her stomach. “How are my boys doing?”
“Boys!” Pamela crowed. “You just might have you a set of girls.”
“Nah.” Kirk took Callie’s hand in his. “They’re boys.”
“We’ll see,” Callie crooned as they walked hand in hand into the house.
Pamela lifted her chin and gazed up at Ben. The boy had grown to be every bit of six foot three inches, if not taller. Dark hair and light eyes, he looked a lot like Kirk, only thinner. “How are you, little brother?”
“Doing all right. Busy.”
“How’s school?”
He wrinkled his nose. “It’s going.”
“I have a financial class that’s giving me fits.”
Ben huffed. “Wish there was only one class driving me nuts.”
Pamela had been worried about Ben. He seemed preoccupied each time he visited, and he often sported dark circles beneath his eyes. “But you’ve always been so good at school.”
He made a fist and lightly punched her shoulder. “Still am. No worrying about me, big sister.”
They turned at the sound of car tires crunching against the gravel driveway. Jack stopped the car, and the girls jumped out of the backseat. “Uncle Ben!”
Ben scowled at Pamela. “What is he doing here?”
Pamela raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t know he’d come back? I just figured Mom and Dad told you—”
“You let him come back?”
The girls reached Ben, and he bent down and gave them hugs and kisses on the foreheads. “Grandma’s got soup ready. Why don’t you go make me a bowl?”
“Okay!” said Emmy.
“No, I’m going to do it!” said Emma.
“No, me!”
Ben stalked toward Jack’s car, his hands knotted into fists. Pamela gripped his arm. “No, Ben.”
He stopped and glared at her. “What are you thinking? Don’t you remember how upset you were? And the girls?”
Pamela stomped her foot. “Of course I remember.”
“Then have you lost your sense? I thought you were smarter than this.”
Pamela curled her lip. “How dare you? You have no idea what I’ve been going through. I didn’t ask him to come back. I’m terrified he’ll ruin it all, start drinking and leave again, then I’ll be left with the mess to clean up.” Emotion choked her throat, and tears stung her eyes.
Jack stood beside them. Pamela hadn’t heard him get out of the car. Her stomach churned, and heat warmed her cheeks. He raised his hands when Ben pivoted toward him and raised his fist.
“I won’t fight you, Ben.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Ben spat the words. “You were a coward then, and you’re still a coward.”
Jack kept his hands raised. “I’ve given my life to God. I’ve changed and—”
“God!” Ben huffed and a string of curses slipped from his lips.
“Ben?” Pamela gawked at her brother. She’d never heard him talk that way, never seen him so angry.
His eyes glazed with loathing and pain that went deeper than any feeling he could have for Jack. His jaw set into a firm line as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “What do I care anyway? I’ll eat me a little soup, then I’m out of here.”
Stunned, she watched as her brother stormed toward the house. She glanced at Jack, still trying to make sense of what had happened. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over...”
She couldn’t finish. Anger and bitterness had warred for victory in her life the past few years, and sometimes won battles, but Ben’s countenance and words had been dark and devastating. Despair punched her gut, and she prayed her heart hadn’t grown so cold. She didn’t understand why God allowed hardship, and yet she missed laying her burdens at His feet.
“It’s okay. He has the right to be mad at me.”
“I know, but...” She stopped again. As many times as she had failed, God had the right to be mad at her, as well, and yet she couldn’t deny a continuous urge within her to cry out for His comfort.
Jack clasped his hands in front of him. “I had a great time with the girls, Pammer.” He shifted his weight, then unclasped his hands. “I love them. And I love you.”
He turned on his heels and got back in his car and drove off. Tears welled in Pamela’s eyes. Why couldn’t life be simpler?
* * *
Jack put the last of the sliced ham and a piece of cheese on the bun, then wrapped the sandwich in cellophane. In an hour, he and some of the leaders of Faith Church would officially open The Refuge’s doors. He’d sent pictures of the inside and outside of the building to Jermaine and Stella and to his parents, Kari and Todd via email and couldn’t wait to tell them how the first day went.
“Jack, will you join us in the office for a minute?” Pastor Mark called from another room.
“Sure.” Jack set the tray of sandwiches in the refrigerator. His heart swelled as he looked at the bottles of water, juice boxes, veggie cups and fruit cups lining the shelves inside. He was ready to serve, and once again he silently petitioned the Lord to use him to make a difference in someone’s life.
After washing his hands, he joined the pastor and three of the church’s deacons in the office. Teresa and another woman he didn’t recognize were also there. He offered a grin in Teresa’s direction, but she averted her gaze. Just as well. At least she wasn’t showing up alone every day.
Mark patted his back. “Jack, you’ve done a great job overseeing this ministry. We’re thankful you chose to come to The Refuge to serve the Lord.”
The men mumbled their agreement, and warmth traipsed up his neck. He didn’t do it for their pats on the back. He did it because the Lord had saved him from alcoholism and homelessness. How could he not serve his God?
Pastor Mark pointed to the front door. “Before we officially open, I’d like to take a moment to praise God for giving us this opportunity and to ask His blessing to reach the lost.” He took Jack’s hand and the man’s beside him. “Jack, if you’ll start the prayer, we’ll go around the circle and I’ll finish up.”
Jack praised God for deliverance and prayed for guidance, strength and wisdom in directing the shelter. As the others voiced their prayers, Jack’s spirit settled into a peace that transcended all understanding. God would provide for the shelter. He would provide food, clothes, bedding, all the material items they’d need. He’d provide workers, ready to serve. And he’d provide the homeless, who desperately needed salvation as well as a warm meal and a place to rest their heads.
With a pride only God could give, Jack walked out of the office and opened the front door. Within the hour, a long-haired man with an unkempt beard wandered inside. The layers of clothes he wore were filthy. The jacket had a wet spot covering his left elbow. It had been a while since Jack had experienced the stench of someone who couldn’t tell you when he’d last bathed. Smelling it now brought back the memories.
Jack extended his hand. “Welcome to The Refuge.”
The man cocked his head, and Jack could tell by the faraway look in his eyes that he suffered from a mental illness or drugs had taken his mental health. Still, he took Jack’s hand in his dirty, calloused one. “Morning, Steve.”
“I’m Jack. I’m glad you’re here. Let’s get you some lunch.”
“Jack, you say?” The man cocked his head to the other side. “You look just like my brother, Steve.”
“Nope. I’m Jack. What’s your name?”
The man scratched his beard. “Well, wait a minute.” He laughed, exposing half-rotten teeth, and smacked his hand against his leg. “I’m Steve.” The man sniffed. “You say you got some hamburgers?”
Jack shook his head. “No. But we have ham sandwiches. Would you like one?”
Steve shrugged. “I suppose.” He clutched the bag he carried to his chest. “You don’t mind if I take my stuff with me.”
“Not at all. Do you mind to show me what you have?”
Steve squinted. “Why? You gonna steal somethin’?”
Jack shook his head. “No, but I need to make sure everything in there is safe for all of us.”
He recalled the time at God’s Hands
that a man had pulled a knife on another guy because he had taken the man’s regular seat at one of the tables. After that, he or Jermaine had to check bags before allowing anyone to eat or sleep at the shelter. Some of the homeless refused to stay because they feared his and Jermaine’s motives were to harm them. It pained Jack to turn people away. He knew the things in their bags were materially all they had in the world, but he also had to keep the workers and other homeless guests safe.
Steve worried the inside of his mouth for several moments. With a shake of his head, he dumped the contents of the bag on the table. “I suppose I’m hungry enough to let you have a little peek.”
With no weapons to be found, Jack told him he could put the stuff back in the bag, then showed him where to find the food. Teresa seemed a bit shaky as she handed him a tray of food, but when Steve passed her, she smiled fully, lighting up her whole face.
Before long five more men showed up, and, after checking to see they were safe, he guided them to the kitchen area. When time came to close the doors for the night, three of the six men opted to stay.
After locking up, Jack settled into the office with a Bible and notebook. He wrote about all that happened that day, then spent time in God’s word. Normally he wouldn’t spend the night, as the church had hired workers to stay. But tonight he couldn’t help it, as thanksgiving at God’s mercy and grace overwhelmed him.
Before he closed the Bible and journal, he scribbled one more petition.
I don’t deserve it, Lord, but please restore my marriage.
Chapter 10
P
amela zipped up her sweater. Dr. Mays’s classroom was freezing, as usual. She knew he had nothing to do with the temperature of the room, because half the building was frigid and the other half hot as a sauna. Still, the coolness coupled with his incessant droning made her want to cuddle up in a blanket and take a nap.
Sneaking her phone from her purse, she scanned the recent text messages. She’d sent multiple texts to Ben after he’d stormed away from her and Jack a month ago, but he wouldn’t respond. He wouldn’t take her calls, either. Something was going on with Ben. He’d become distant, unhappy, tired.
At least he still takes Mom’s calls. I know he hasn’t fallen off the face of the planet.
She turned off the phone and stared up at her professor. Her grade would most likely be higher if she paid attention. But listening to him was like balancing a checkbook without knowing the numbers. Thankfully, she had strong As in her other classes. After refiguring her grade point average, she learned she could get a C in this class and keep her scholarship. She tapped her pencil against her cheek.
I can’t believe I’m willing to get a C.
She huffed. Who was she kidding? She prayed her grade would be that high.
“I finished grading your papers,” said Dr. Mays.
Pamela sat up straighter. He was the only professor she had who didn’t accept electronic submissions, which only went to show how long the man had been teaching and that it was past time for retirement. Her other professors wouldn’t accept paper copies.
“You’re free to go once you receive your score.”
Pamela waited as he shuffled up one aisle and down the other. Her feet twitched, and she clasped and unclasped her hands. Her paper must be the last one in his stack. Finally, he stopped beside her and placed the paper on her desk. She stared at the bold red letter. B.
Releasing a deep breath, she scooped up the work and shoved it in her bag.
Thank you, God.
She didn’t even shake off the praise. It seemed to slip from her lips and mind all the time, and she’d almost given up fighting it. For a month Jack had been true to his word. He took the girls each time she allowed him, even came to dinner whenever Mom and Dad invited him. Each week he gave her a check to help with expenses. She felt confident he kept very little of his income for himself. Though she hadn’t given over to the feelings, she couldn’t deny the fast beating of her heart when he was near.
“Pamela.”
She stopped and closed her eyes at the sound of Peter’s voice. She’d tried to avoid him since that night at the fall festival.
“It seems like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” he said as he stopped beside her.
Pamela nodded. “Yes. I’ve been busy.”
“With Jack.”
She frowned. It wasn’t his business if she had been busy because of Jack. She and Peter hadn’t gone on a date, didn’t have any kind of relationship. He’d expressed interest and taken her to a mechanic and that was it.
He shifted his feet. “I mean—”
“Actually, I’ve been busy trying to keep my grade up in Dr. Mays’s class and with my girls. And, yes, with Jack.”
“But I thought that maybe—”
Pamela lifted her hand. “Listen, Peter. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to go out with you. I appreciate the offer, but—”
“Do you really think he’s better for you? He left.”
Pamela stared at the man she barely knew. “How would you know that?” She motioned from him to herself. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about my life.”
“I know you lack wisdom in discerning good character.”
As she took in his clean, stiff shirt and neatly pressed pants, she could tell he cared about appearances. His light eyes, which she’d once likened to ocean waves, now seemed empty of compassion. He hadn’t called her, hadn’t tried to contact her in a month. And if she remembered correctly, he didn’t speak a word to her girls at the festival. She hefted her bag onto her shoulder. “Actually, I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. Bye, Peter.”
She turned away from him and stomped to her car. The man had some nerve!
At least I didn’t go out with him. Yet another thing to be thankful for.
* * *
Jack twirled around on the ice skates, then took Emmy’s hands in his. “Just relax, and I’ll guide you until you get the feel of those skates.”
Emmy’s eyes widened with uncertainty, but a full smile still lifted her lips. “Okay, Daddy.”
His heart still flipped each time his younger daughter called him that, each time he saw faith in him gleaming in her eyes. He’d done nothing to deserve an ally, but God had blessed him with one anyway, and Jack believed with every fiber of his being that their family would be restored one day.
Emmy’s left foot slipped. She gasped, and he gripped her hands tighter and held her upright. “I’ve got you. Just allow one foot to kinda glide in front of the other.”
“Like walking with a swoosh.”
He chuckled at her analogy. Spying Emma and Pamela clinging to the ice-skating center’s wall, he prayed they would have a good time. He remembered the last time he and Pamela had ice-skated together, the winter of their senior year of high school. Only a few months before they’d married.
She’d held on to him, just as Emmy did now. Love and trust had gleamed in her eyes, the same way it did now in his younger daughter’s. Holding Pamela tight, guiding her across the ice, he’d felt as if he could conquer the world. He would have never imagined that in a year’s time she’d be his wife, carrying his first child, and that the bottle would take over as primary love of his life.
“I think I can do it on my own, Daddy.”
Jack smiled at his child. A long strand of red hair fell into her eyes, and she brushed it away. “You sure?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. He let her go, and she wobbled a moment, then straightened herself and skated on her own. She giggled. “I’m doing it.”
“You’re doing great.” He pointed toward the wall. “How ’bout I go see if Emma will let me help her?”
“Okay.”
Jack skated to Emma. Frustration marked her features as she clung to the bar on the wall.
Pamela held on only a few feet behind her. She chortled. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this.”
“I remember.”
Pamela jutted out her chin and looked up at him. He winked at her, and her expression softened. Her voice carried a hint of teasing as she said, “Of all the places to take the girls. Ice-skating?”
He shrugged. “Emmy begged me. I couldn’t say no.”
Pamela clicked her tongue. “She’s definitely your kid.”
His heart pounded with a thrill, and he swallowed back the knot in his throat. He nodded toward their older daughter. “And it appears Emma is yours.” He extended his hands to her. “You wanna let me help you? I’ll hold your hands. Won’t let you fall.”
Emma glanced back at her mom.
Pamela nodded toward the center. “Go ahead, Emma. Let him take you. You’ll have fun.”
Emma’s voice sounded like a squeak. “I’ll fall.”
Pamela shook her head. “He won’t let you. He never let me fall.”
His gaze locked with hers at the words. He’d held her tight all the years of dating in high school and the first several months of marriage. Then he’d let her down. Let her fall. Hard.
God, I don’t deserve her forgiveness.
Scriptures about trusting God came to mind.
Trusting the words of his spirit, he lifted his eyebrows and extended his hands to Emma. To his surprise, she grabbed hold. He guided her onto the ice. She didn’t look up at him; she focused on her feet instead. He encouraged her to allow the skates to glide across the ice, but she remained stiff and wouldn’t look up.
“Look at me, Emma.” Emmy waved as she skated tentatively past them.
Emma looked up for a brief moment, wobbled and then grabbed his hands tighter.
“Don’t worry—I’ve got you.”
A voice boomed over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s Zamboni time.”
Emma looked up at him questioningly. “What’s that?”
“They’re going to clean the ice.” He guided her toward the exit. “Let’s get some nachos and slushes.”
She smiled, and Jack’s heart melted. “Okay.”
Emmy skated beside him. “Daddy, what are we doing?”
“They’ve got to clean the ice,” said Emma in her big-sister voice. “But we’re gonna get some nachos and slushes.”
Emmy clapped her hands. “Yay!”
After taking off their skates, they walked to the concession and ordered a snack. Once at a table, the girls chattered back and forth about wobbles and near falls while trying to move around the ice. Each story sounded scarier than the one before, and yet neither of the girls had fallen a single time.
Jack watched Pamela as she listened to the girls’ tales. She was a good mom, and he hoped one day she would share some of the things he’d missed. Like Emmy’s birth. Was it easier than Emma’s? When did she start walking? Did the girls fight when they were smaller? Now they seemed to be good friends. Different as night and day, but buddies just the same. What were their first words? What were their first days of school like? He’d missed so much. Had they asked about him? Did they know about the night he left? “Thanks for your patience.” The same voice sounded over the speaker. “Let’s start the new hour with a couples’ skate.”
Emma looked at Pamela and pointed toward him. “Are you gonna skate with Daddy?”
Pamela started to shake her head no, but Emmy bounced in her seat and clapped her hands. “Yeah, Mommy, do it. Daddy’s a great skater. He won’t let you fall.”
Jack lifted his brows and held out his hand. “She’s right.”
At first he’d believed she would say no, but instead she bent down and put on her skates. Jack’s heart raced in his chest as he laced up his own.
Taking her hand in his, he guided her onto the ice. In one quick motion, he twirled around to skate backward, then gripped her hands tight. She gasped when she lost her balance for a moment. “Jack, you said you wouldn’t let me fall.”
He peered into her eyes. “With God’s help, I’ll never let you fall again.”
Pamela looked away from him, and he knew she’d heard his words exactly as he’d meant them.
“I love you, Pamela.”
She stared up at him. “Can we just skate without all the heavy?”
“Absolutely.”
He held her hands, relishing their softness, longing for the touches he’d once known, but he didn’t say anything else. He remembered. He enjoyed. And he prayed for a second chance at her love.
The song ended, and the girls joined them on the rink. Emmy grew more confident skating, and Emma softened toward him. He watched and relished when Pamela laughed with the girls, tucking away each moment deep into his heart.
Once the day ended, he drove them back to the cabin. He walked them to the door, and Emmy wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thanks, Daddy. I had a bunch of fun.”
She scampered into the house. To his surprise, Emma gave him a tentative hug. He wrapped his arms around her. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, then raced into the house.
His gut twisted, and tears welled in his eyes. He blinked them away as he looked at Pamela. She smiled. “It was a lot of fun. Night, Jack.”
She shut the door, and Jack stumbled back to the car. Forgiveness was happening.