The Virtuous Woman (30 page)

“Yeah, well, I guess I am too. He’s one of the best students I’ve ever had. He’s going somewhere in the world of flying. You just watch.”

The two women sat there, and the jukebox started playing “Stars Fell on Alabama.”

“I hate that song. It’s so sappy,” Babe said.

“What’s on your mind, Babe? I know you didn’t come here to drink beer and talk about jukebox songs.”

Babe laughed. “You’re pretty sharp, Grace. You’ve come up the hard way just like me. All right. I do have something on my mind.” She sipped at the beer and then put it down firmly. “I’ve come to tell you that I’m going after Francis.”

“I thought you were already doing that.”

“Not really. When he first came back, I didn’t give him much of a thought. But there’s something about that guy. I don’t know what it is. Back when we were together, we had something, and it was good.”

“Why are you telling me this, Babe?”

“Because I think you’re in love with him.” Babe was watching Grace carefully and saw something change in her
expression. Babe’s hard life had formed her life philosophy: Keep what’s yours and don’t let anyone get to you. Only where her sister Lucy was concerned was there any softness in her—except for what she had felt in the past for Francis Key. He had been different, and she had never been able to explain how the two of them had come together. All she knew was that there was something special about him that made him different from other men. Ever since they had broken up, she’d had faint stirrings of regret. Since that day she had felt an emptiness she could not define. When he unexpectedly walked back into her life, she was honest enough to realize that she was responding to him in the old way. She had met old flames before, and it had never been like this. “I know something’s going on between you two, but I can’t figure out exactly what it is.”

“Neither can I,” Grace admitted.

Babe was shocked at this statement. “Come on,” she said. “You’ve been around the block. You know what life’s like. Francis is like a baby as far as women are concerned, but you’re no baby.”

“That’s right. I’m not.”

Babe had expected antagonism, but there was a mildness in Grace Winslow that had not been there when they had first met. “I expected you to come after me with your claws out.”

“No, I won’t do that. Listen, don’t think about me. If Francis loves you, I want him to be happy.”

The words displeased Babe. She got up abruptly, searched in her purse, and threw some money on the table. “I’d like it better if you’d fight me for him.”

Grace smiled and shook her head but did not answer. She watched as Babe abruptly left the restaurant. Finally she heard the bartender, who had walked up beside her. “Anything wrong, Grace?”

“I don’t know, Gus.”

Her answer puzzled him, and when she got up and went
back to work, he scratched his head and muttered, “I gave up trying to understand women a long time ago.”

****

Francis typed a line, then straightened his back and reread it. He glanced over at the clock and saw that it was after nine. He studied the line again, staring at the typewriter as if it were a crystal ball; then he heard the sound of a car pulling up. He’d had no company since Kevin had gone to New York, and now hearing a knock, he went to the door and opened it. “Why, Babe,” he said with surprise. “Come on in.”

“Are you working?” she asked.

“I guess so.” Babe saw that he was troubled and said, “You’re not worried about Kev and Lucy, are you? I’m not.”

“No, of course not. I think it’s a good thing. Has Lucy called you?”

“Yes, she’s happier than I’ve ever known her to be.”

“They’ll have a good marriage. Kev’s a good man, and she’s a fine woman.” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Can I fix you some coffee?”

“All right.”

He poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to her. “You want to go sit on the porch? It’s a little cooler out there.”

“Sure—that would be fine.”

They went out and sat down on the porch swing, and for a while they talked about Kevin and Lucy. The conversation gradually turned to some of the things they had done together in earlier days. Babe suddenly blurted out, “I missed you after you left, Francis.”

“You were the one who ran me off.”

“I know that. I didn’t think I’d miss you.” The swing moved slowly back and forth, and she could see a smile come to his lips. “Did you miss me at all?” she asked timidly.

“Sure I did. You were the only woman I’d ever loved, Babe. When we separated it was as if I’d lost a leg. A man can get by,
I suppose, when he loses a leg, but he has to hobble around. He’s not the same anymore. It was pretty bad for me.”

Babe’s features became soft and she took his hand. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she whispered.

“Well, I did.”

Babe released his hand and put her hands on his shoulders. “We could have it again,” she said. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly. He didn’t resist her kiss, which pleased her, for she knew how to make a man want her. His nearness was sharpening all the old memories, bringing back the past like a powerful flash. When their lips parted, she whispered again, “We could go back to the way things were. You can’t hide your feelings for me. You never could, could you?”

“I guess not.” Francis sat perfectly still and did not move for a long time. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “I have this theory that you should never move backward.”

She felt a stab of disappointment at this comment. “Why not, Francis? We’re still the same people.”

“I don’t think so. You might be, but I’ve changed.”

Frustrated, she said quietly, “No you haven’t—not really. It’s this religious thing, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. I wasn’t a Christian then, and I pretty much did what I wanted to do. But now, well ... there are things I can’t do no matter how much I want to.”

“You want me, Francis. Don’t deny it. You wouldn’t have kissed me like that if you didn’t.”

“I can’t deny it. You’re a beautiful woman, and you know how to stir a man. But I can’t go back to being what I was. I’ve moved on.”

Sighing, she knew that their relationship was indeed over. She had begun to build faint hopes of rekindling the love they’d once had, but now she understood that he had spoken the truth. “I guess I knew it, but I’d hoped we could get together again.”

“You’ll find a man who really loves you someday, Babe.”

“No, I don’t think I ever will.” She got to her feet, and he rose with her. “You’re really serious about this Christianity thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“But even if I were to change, it wouldn’t matter, would it?” When he hesitated, she smiled slightly, but there was bitterness in it. “You’ve got someone else on your mind.” She did not say any more but saw that her words had hit him. “I wish you the best, Francis, I really do.”

“You too, Babe.”

He stood and watched as she went back to the car. She started it up and drove away, and as she disappeared into the night, Francis knew that a chapter had finally closed in his life. His love affair with Babe Delaney had been the most turbulent drama in his life, and he had struggled with fantasies that one day it might happen again. But now as the sound of her car faded, so also faded any such thoughts. And with that realization came great relief that his inner struggle was over.

****

When Grace got home from work, Francis was sitting in the easy chair in the living room. He usually had a book in his hands, but this time he was simply staring at the wall. The radio was playing softly, and she came and stood over him. “What are you doing up this time of night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“I know it. I went to bed but just lay there staring at the ceiling, so I got up. Are you hungry?”

“No, not really.” Then after a moment’s consideration, she said, “I’ll just have some milk.” She opened the icebox and pulled out the milk bottle. She poured herself a glass of milk, and as she set the bottle down, she noticed a cup in the sink with lipstick on the rim. At once she understood that Babe had been there, but she said nothing about it.

Francis had followed her into the kitchen and saw her
expression change when she looked into the sink. “Babe was here,” he said quietly.

Neither said a word, and the music on the radio was the only sound in the room. Finally Grace said, “She’s in love with you, Francis.”

“No, not really.”

“You’re blind. She’s cared for you a long time.”

“We never got along, Grace. We fought like cats and dogs, and she threw me out.”

“Why was she here if she doesn’t still care for you?”

Francis sighed. “Maybe she does, but with Babe love is always ... physical.” He dropped his head for a moment. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, Grace saw the pain in his eyes. “There’s got to be more to it than that, hasn’t there?”

Grace was touched that he would ask her this question, knowing what a struggle she’d had in life over issues of love.

“Yeah, I think it does, but I’m no expert,” she said bitterly. She wanted to say more, but considering her history, she did not consider herself worthy of offering any advice on the subject.

Francis had expected her to say more, and he was disappointed when she started toward her bedroom. “I mailed the book off today,” he called out.

“You finished it? Oh, Francis, that’s wonderful!” Grace spun around and came back to him at once, her eyes bright. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, don’t be. That might be the last we ever see of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It may never get published. I thought it was good when I started, but now I don’t know. I’ve lost any sense of objectivity. It may be the best book or the worst book ever written—I just don’t know.”

“What if it don’t get published? Will you write another one?”

“I don’t know, Grace.” His voice was weary. “I’ve thrown
myself into this for so long, I haven’t even considered what I’d do if I failed. But now I’ve got to think about it.”

Grace felt compassion for this man who was so strong in so many ways, yet almost fragile in others. She wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, but she refrained. “Can I read it?”

“If you like. I’ve only got the carbon copy, and that’s a bit hard to read.” Going over to the table where he kept his books, he picked up a thick manuscript tied together with a blue ribbon. “It may be the only blue ribbon it ever wins,” he said wryly and handed it to her.

“I hate to see you like this.”

“Maybe I’m just a sensitive artist who needs to suffer,” he said with a faint smile.

She did not smile back, however, for she hurt for him. “I’ll read it. I’ll start it tonight. I wish I knew more about literature.”

“I hope you like it.”

She did smile then. “Oh, I know I will.”

She took the manuscript to her bedroom and put it on the nightstand beside her bed. She showered quickly and put on a gown. Getting into bed, she picked up the first few pages and began to read. She read slowly and carefully, for this book meant a great deal to her. She had come to love Francis, and she felt that these pages represented his life. She desperately wanted it to succeed. She stopped reading, thinking about how Babe must feel, having missed out in her relationship with Francis.
Babe missed her chance at love ... but maybe I will too.
Frightened by that thought, Grace put it from her mind and began to read again.

****

Three days later Kevin returned from New York. He swept into the house, put his arms around her, and swung her around the room. “Well, sister, everything went great!”

“Did they really like Lucy?”

“They loved her! Even Paige and Brian. I was proud of all of them.”

“I’m so glad!” Grace exclaimed. “She was so afraid to go.”

“I know, but they made her feel completely at ease. Now it’s your turn. When are you going home?”

“Francis says we should go next week.”

“Good. It’s time for you to be there.”

Grace was thrilled for Kevin and Lucy, and the next time she saw Lucy, it was evident that the young woman was as happy as Grace had ever seen her. She listened as Lucy excitedly spoke of the family, and she finished by saying, “They’re so anxious for you to come home, Grace. They love you so much.”

Grace smiled but said nothing. In all truth she was so caught up with reading Francis’s book that other matters had faded into insignificance. She took every spare moment to read, reading after work into the early hours of the morning until her eyes burned. The book, she had discovered, had a power she could not fathom. She had read romances before, but none of them had ever stirred her quite like this. The very words in these pages seemed to leap out at her and enter her mind and heart.

The story concerned a woman who wasted her life, having made a wrong turn while she was very young. The story keenly reminded Grace of her own life. Although there were no specific details that matched, she suspected that Francis had at least partially modeled his heroine after her.

By the time she finished the book early one morning, Grace was weeping. The main character in the book had found only one way to make her life bearable, and that was through Jesus, the Savior. She had given her life to Christ, but she’d still had problems afterward, and this is what intrigued Grace. The heroine had been troubled even after becoming a Christian with thoughts of past sins—exactly as Grace herself was experiencing!

At the end of the book, the character had finally learned
that God forgives completely and never brings up our past errors once we have confessed them and forsaken them. In the last scene, the young woman was able to tell her sweetheart that she had learned God’s forgiveness is complete. He doesn’t forgive one day, then come back the next day tormenting us with our past sin.

Grace had suffered terrible remorse over her past. Now she slipped out of bed, knelt down, and began to pray. “Oh, God, I can’t go back and undo the things I did when I was lost. You know I’ve repented of them, and I know I’ve cried out and called on you to forgive me. Now I pray, O Lord, that you take away this guilt once and for all. Let me trust in you and in the Lord Jesus Christ that these sins are under the blood....”