Just to See You Smile (4 page)

He'd never thought about it. He had wondered at times, when he wearied of the treadmill, if this was all there was. Wife, kids, mortgage, church, school activities, family vacations, work. Evidently Kevin didn't think so.

For a moment he imagined chucking it all. What would he do? He drew a blank. He couldn't think of serious discontentment on any front. He liked all three of his kids. He liked living in his small hometown. He liked being on the church council. He even liked his job. And his wife? Not only did he love her, he liked her!

The status quo was about as perfect as a guy could ask for.

Best friends since the fifth grade, Anne and Val didn't need words to arrive at the heart of the matter. They simply burst into tears and hugged.

Now they sat in Anne's hotel room, chairs turned to face the large window overlooking the Chicago River. To the far right, sunlight danced on Lake Michigan. They sipped coffee, disinterested in the basket of muffins and croissants on the table between them.

Over the past year, Anne had been privy to deteriorating events in her friend's marriage. She sensed that rather than a rehash of those events, a shoulder was best for the moment. Still, it seemed a sudden decision to separate. She ventured a question. “Val, why didn't I notice anything at dinner last night?”

Scrunched in her armchair, feet propped on the wide windowsill, face half hidden behind her mass of chin-length, dark natural curls, Val shrugged. “I didn't want you to.”

“The curse of the healthy glow.”

Her friend chuckled, a sound without humor. She was an aerobics instructor and fitness devotee, compactly built and shorter than Anne's 5' 9" by four inches. Her physical features exuded an air of confidence, even now. “Celeste noticed something.”

Celeste was their friend and their pastor's wife. “We all know Celeste has a direct hot line to the supernatural. Not even our lifelong friendship can compete with that. What did you tell her?”

“That I'm tired. Which is the truth.”

“Why did you two come?”

She blinked and looked toward the window. “Kevin's sense of duty and honor.”

Anne choked on coffee and pressed a linen napkin to her mouth.

“I know. Go figure. But that was it. The weekend was already planned, and he didn't want to leave the council hanging. He felt he should explain in person, resign in person, and not just see Peter privately and dump it in his lap.”

“Thoughtful.”

“Uh-huh.”

Anne felt heat bubbling in her chest. Her throat constricted.

“Annie-banannie.” Puffy eyelids shrouded Val's bluegreen eyes. “Promise you'll keep me from charging an extraordinary amount of money today?”

“Val, we always charge an extraordinary amount on this day. It's tradition! But we've saved for it and do most of our Christmas shopping and get the kids winter coats—”

“No. I'm talking a nasty, abhorrent, shameful amount of money.” She bit her lower lip. “I know revenge is God's department. I know we can't afford it, especially now, but there is this voice inside that keeps telling me to punch Kevin where it hurts. And at the moment that voice is screaming to spend money like it grows on trees. So promise me. I'm counting on you.”

Coffee churned in Anne's otherwise empty stomach.
Oh, Lord.
“How about if I just help you spend it?”

Val's mouth fell open.

“You know you could use a new dress for Christmas. Let's actually
buy
something at Saks—”

“Anne! I'm serious!”

“And while we're into splurging, let's not forget about eating. You are not passing up desserts today, nor snacks of fudge and ice cream. Nor caffeine breaks. It's only lattés with extra dollops of whipped cream for you.”

The corner of Val's mouth lifted.

“Mission accomplished.” Anne smiled. “We can always mail things back. And you'll only need one day in aerobics class to work off the extra calories. Okay?”

“Okay.”

While Val stepped into the bathroom to wash her face, Anne studied the tabletop.
Lord, we need Your grace for this day. Moment by moment. Please!

The hotel logo caught her eye. It was stamped in gold calligraphy on the room service receipt.
The Renaissance
.

Renaissance. Now that's ironic. I think we're into a death here, Father. What's with this rebirth business?

She thought of the day that stretched before them. Celeste would catch a nuance, a vibe. They would have to tell her. She needed to know, and she should hear it from them, not late tonight from Peter. Anne imagined Celeste's reaction to the news. How would she pray? She was the pastor's wife and, although close in age to Anne, possessed a faith usually found only in women twice her age. Respect for her had grown by leaps and bounds during her five years at Valley Oaks Community Church.

Celeste would immediately bring Jesus into focus. She would say He died, and there was rebirth in that death for everyone.

Tears sprang to Anne's eyes.
Jesus, how in the world are we to expect a rebirth in this nightmare?

Anne loved the old farmhouse she and Alec had moved into ten years ago and spent nine renovating. The white twostory sat on Acorn Park Lane at the end of a long front yard at the edge of Valley Oaks. Fourth Avenue ran along the west side, turning at this point into a little-used, graveled country lane. Bordering their property were fields owned and tilled by a farmer who lived elsewhere in the county.

A red barn stood in the backyard and housed the overflow from the single-car, unattached garage. Three children accumulated a lot of bicycles and sporting equipment. The minivan and riding lawn tractor were parked in it. Their two big dogs, the black lab, Madison, and the golden retriever, Samson, slept and ate in the barn.

Late Sunday afternoon, the day after returning from Chicago, Anne stood in her beautiful kitchen and felt as if its three walls were closing in on her. There was no fourth wall. It had been replaced with a breakfast bar. The effect was a large open space, a combination kitchen and family room. Which meant that at the moment she was witnessing firsthand a noisy confrontation between the three Sutton children.

Anne turned on her heel and walked into a short hallway located just inside the back door. She breezed past doors leading to the back staircase, the basement stairs, a bathroom, and the living room. Without a pause, she rapped her knuckles on another door while opening it and strode into the den tucked away in the rear corner of the house. It was Alec's hideaway.

She shut the door and announced, “It didn't work.”

Her husband sat at the desk, eyes glued to the computer monitor, fingers tapping.

She gave him a moment. Then another. “Alec.”

“Mm-hmm. Just a sec.”

She flumped onto an overstuffed armchair and swung her legs over the side. Alec could get lost in work any time of any
day or night. He was a corporate trainer for a big company called Agstar. He taught managers how to manage others. Those others made or sold farm equipment. It sounded boring to her, but he thoroughly enjoyed the teaching aspect and working with a variety of people. And, it paid the bills. If they stuck to their budget, their needs were met and Anne didn't have to work full-time. She helped out part-time at the pharmacy. During the winter, she coached the sophomore girls basketball team and assisted with the varsity. She was a PTA officer, Booster Club officer, and Mandy's room parent.

Alec continued typing. He wore his comfy, Sunday afternoon clothes: old brown cords and an ivory cable-knit sweater.

The guy hadn't changed much through the years. If anything, he had simply grown into the promise of what he had been as a teenager. She had fallen for him during her sophomore year, when he was the senior quarterback hero, homecoming king, and student council president. Energetic and focused, he was still good-looking, a cross between rugged and executive. At 5' 11", he wasn't much taller than she was. He was more broad-shaped than lanky.

It was those crinkly cinnamon eyes that had drawn her in the first time she passed him in the high school hallway over 20 years ago. He turned them toward her now, swiveling in the high-backed desk chair, and asked, “What's up?”

“It didn't work.”

“What didn't work?”

“Sending Drew alone to rent a video.” Their oldest had been driving for only a few months and had not yet wearied of running errands. “He didn't get what the girls wanted. They're all fussing at each other.”

“So what's new?”

She went over to him and slid onto his lap, nestling into the arms he wrapped around her. A faint hint of his familiar,
spicy Aramis cologne comforted her. She touched his rough cheek. “Alec, let's go to the Pizza Parlor, have calzones. Just you and me.”

“The kids—”

“I'm not up for refereeing tonight.”

“You've had a rough weekend. I'll handle it.”

“They need to learn to handle it. Drew can take the girls back to Swensen's.” The grocery store carried a limited video selection, but it was their only source. The video store hadn't yet re-opened after the owner was arrested a few weeks before.

“I've got to finish up a couple of things here for a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. And, besides, it's our family night. I feel like I haven't seen the kids all week. Thanksgiving was full of relatives, and then we left for Chicago the next day. We are committed to our Sundays together, right?”

Energetic and focused parents meant they had produced three children of the same ilk. Even before nine-year-old Mandy was born, they were all going different directions. They had carved Sundays into the schedule years ago. “Of course we're committed to Sundays. I'm only talking an hour and a half to—”

“Anne, we just told them about Kevin and Val this afternoon. How do you think they're processing that?”

“I don't know how
I'm
processing that!”

“Exactly. We all need to be together. It'll give them security. They're probably fussing because they feel a sense of loss. Bewilderment.”

“I
need
to be with
you
.”

“You'll be with me here.”

“
Alone
with you.”

“Hey, we're alone now.”

She laid her head in the crook of his neck. “For two whole minutes. Then you'll turn back to the computer, and Amy
will walk in and announce in her 13-going-on-35-year-old voice, ‘Alec and Anne Sutton, your son is absolutely impossible!' Then I'll go fix soup and sandwiches.”

He chuckled. “But at least we had the two minutes. They've got to be worth 60 at the noisy, over-priced Pizza Parlor.”

“You just don't get it, Alec.”

“Do you?”

“No. All I know is that I feel out of sorts here. I need to get out.”

“Go see Val. Kevin should be gone by now.”

“Her mother and Celeste are there. Besides, I think I should step back from that situation. It's throwing me for a major loop.”

“Annie, Kevin and Val will survive, independent of one another. He was never home anyway. They disconnected a long time ago. This is probably for the best.”

“Don't say that.”

“Kids are resilient. There will be less stress in their home. Val can spread her wings a little more.”

She sat up straight. “You're defending him!”

“No, I'm not. There's no excuse for what he's doing. What I'm saying is the end result could be some change for the good.”

Tears stung her eyes. “But it's not
right!
He's causing irreparable damage to all of them! He shouldn't get away with it!”

“Shh.” He pulled her nearer again and pressed her face against his shoulder, catching a deep sob. “I know. I know.”

How she hated crying! She hated feeling helpless. She hated the ugly words forming in her head, obscene words she wanted to scream at Kevin Massey.

Alec's arms tightened around her. There was a knock on the door. He called out, “We're busy. Go away.”

The door opened. Anne heard Amy's voice. “Alec and Anne Sutton, your son is absolutely impossible! I don't know how you raised— Mom! What's wrong?”

Alec answered, “She's upset about Aunt Val. Go on, honey. We'll be right out. Just give us two more minutes.”

Anne spoke into his soft sweater, “Tell your brother to drive you and Mandy back to the store so you can all take care of it.”

Amy sighed dramatically. “Thank you!”

The door closed with a loud click.

Alec kissed her wet cheek. “Got you four minutes, sweetheart, not just two. Worth 90 at the Pizza Parlor.”

She sighed loudly, mimicking Amy's performance. “Thank you!”

“You okay?”

She envisioned the next five hours. Alec would get back to work, she would prepare supper—at least it was a simple one—they would prompt the kids to discuss what they learned about God at church today, how it applied to real life. They would watch a video, after which she would clean up the kitchen, fall exhausted into bed, and start all over again tomorrow… It was simply what a wife and mom did. Just like Val had done for 17 years.

Alec kissed her head and tightened his arms. “Annie?”

She nodded against him. “I'll be okay.”

Maybe four minutes were better than none at all.