Wildflowers (20 page)

Steven put down his toothbrush and turned to Genevieve, studying her closely. “What did you say?”

Genevieve turned to him with her freshly accentuated eyes. “I said I’ve never told you how much I appreciate that you’ve been a faithful and consistent financial provider for our family.”

Steven didn’t say anything.

“You’ve worked hard and long for years, Steven. I appreciate it. So do the girls. Because of your income, we’ve always lived in beautiful homes, and we’ve always had plenty of food and clothes and everything else we’ve wanted as a family. I just wanted to say thank you for providing for us.”

“You’re welcome.” By the expression in Steven’s sky blue eyes, Genevieve knew he was stunned. Returning to his toothbrush and toothpaste, he completed his task while he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

Inside, Genevieve felt sparkling. She felt pretty and
clean. She wanted to playfully splash a handful of water on her stunned husband to bring him back to reality.

But she didn’t.

She quietly kept all her fresh feelings to herself. It seemed to her that if Steven was going to believe she was free, he would come to that conclusion naturally, based on her changed life and not on a few spontaneous actions.

Genevieve floated during the four days they had together before Steven left. She laughed, hugged her daughters, and smiled at Steven. He watched her carefully without asking questions.

On Sunday, the Ahrens family attended church. This was their third Sunday to file down the center aisle and sit in the middle pew on the left side. Nothing in the church had changed. The seat cushions were the same, the order of service was similar to the other two times, the stained glass window captured the summer sunshine and illuminated the front of the church with soft glimmers of broken light like translucent confetti. Pastor Allistar wore the same suit; Steven sat with his arm across the back of the pew and listened as he had the other times.

But for Genevieve everything was different. She was present. Completely present and involved in the service. Every word was for her. Each line of every song filled her up. She was like a playful kitten that had stopped scampering long enough to lap up milk from a saucer set out just for her.

The biggest surprise of all for Genevieve was the way she couldn’t stop smiling. The biggest surprise for her family was the way she couldn’t stop greeting people. On their
other two visits to church, Genevieve had entered with her head down, barely shaking hands with the posted greeters at the doors. After church she had made a beeline down the aisle without acknowledging anyone and had gone directly to the car.

This morning, Genevieve was talking so much with so many people that Steven and the girls said they would wait for her in the car.

“You look beautiful today.” Alissa gave Genevieve a hug in the parking lot. “How has the rest of this week been for you? I’ve been praying for you.”

“I can tell. I’ve never felt so alive. My poor husband can’t figure out what’s going on with me.”

“You should tell him.”

“I thought if he saw the changes, he would know God had done something in my life.”

“I think you should tell him what happened on Wednesday. You should say the words aloud to him. Tell him you unbound him, untied him. Let him know you don’t hold anything against him. Tell him he’s free. He might not know it yet.”

“I was thinking of writing him a letter,” Genevieve said. “After all our talking about God’s letter to us and Jessica writing a letter to her dad, I thought I’d write Steven a letter this week while he is gone.”

“I don’t know. If it were I, I mean, if I were Steven, I’d want to know what was going on in your life by hearing your words and watching your face as you told me. Then you can write a bunch of mushy love letters all week long.”

Genevieve smiled. She was amazed that even though she guessed she was at least ten years older than Alissa, on a number of occasions, like now, she felt as if they were the same age. Alissa said once before that was because she had grown up so fast she had “an old heart.” Genevieve believed that the two of them connected so well because they both had free hearts now.

“Thanks for your advice.” Genevieve put her hand on Alissa’s arm. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wednesday,” Alissa said. “Two-thirty at Jessica’s. And bring your girls.”

“I will.” Genevieve turned and walked with light steps to where Steven sat with the girls in the van, waiting for her. Before the sun set that day, she would make her confession to Steven, and then she would kiss him.

Her full lips curved up, just thinking about that kiss.

D
inner after church was tuna fish sandwiches and carrot sticks. Quick and easy. Genevieve sat down after she had placed the sandwiches on the kitchen table. “Steven, would you be interested in going for a drive this afternoon?”

“Okay. Any place in particular?”

“No, I thought it would be fun if we took your car. It’s such a beautiful, sunny day. We can put down the top.”

“Then we can’t go,” Mallory said. “What are we supposed to do?”

“You two can stay here or go over to a friend’s house.”

“I want to stay here,” Anna said. “You two should have some fun for once. We don’t mind staying here, do we, Mallory?”

“I guess not,” Mallory said dejectedly.

Genevieve and Steven took off in the convertible, as
Anna and Mallory waved good-bye from the front steps.

“Mind if we stop by the café?” Steven asked.

Genevieve was surprised. “No. Why?”

“I haven’t seen it since they knocked out the wall. I thought I’d have a look before I leave in the morning.”

They entered through the front door, which Genevieve unlocked with a key. Underneath the door, on the floor, was a note.

Steven picked it up and read it aloud.

“Who is Richard Palmas?” Steven asked.

Genevieve told him about the writer who had challenged her to dazzle him when he was at the café last April.

Steven raised an eyebrow. “You sure he was challenging you to dazzle him with the café and your cooking?”

“Yes, of course.”

“He wasn’t trying to flirt with you?”

“Maybe a little.” Genevieve gave Steven her full attention and a gentle smile. “But it didn’t work if that’s what he was trying to do. My heart is toward you, Steven, and no one else.”

Steven looked as if he might believe her.

Genevieve knew this was the moment she had hoped would present itself on their drive. She was ready to open herself to him. “Steven, I have something to tell you. For a long time—our entire married life, in fact—I’ve harbored bitterness against you because of your career. You know that.”

Steven tilted his head and pursed his lips together. He appeared ready to defend himself the way he had on numerous occasions.

“And,” Genevieve said, holding up a hand to keep him from saying anything yet. “I was angry about the inheritance being lost, and I was hurt that your job takes you away so much of the time.”

“Gena—”

“Let me finish. The reason I’m saying this is because everything has changed inside me. I finally saw that the bitterness and anger I held for so long was wrong. Very wrong. It was sin. Last Wednesday, while you were golfing, I went to Jessica’s with Leah and Alissa. They were having a Bible study, and the girls and I stayed. God broke through to me that afternoon, and something happened inside me. I confessed my sin to God. I know He forgave me.”

She drew in a breath for courage. “And I needed to forgive you, too. I know you never meant to hurt me with any
of these things. I forgave you on Wednesday. I released you from the bitterness I’d wrapped you in. I untied you and let you go.”

Evidently her words weren’t having the effect on Steven she hoped for. With his chin out he said, “What do you mean you ‘forgive me’? Are you saying I’ve done something wrong?”

Genevieve felt her mouth go dry. “That’s how I perceived it.”

“Did you have another flash encounter with God?” Steven asked. “When you went to that Bible study back in Pasadena, you came home talking like this about God forgiving you for all your sins and how I should get saved, too.”

Genevieve nodded sheepishly. “Yes, I surrendered my life to Christ then. But I was still holding onto a tremendous amount of unforgiveness in my heart. It was choking me and keeping me in a dark and depressing place. On Wednesday I rolled the stone away from my heart, and I don’t hold anything against you. I’m free. You’re free. We can go on from here with a fresh start.”

Steven was silent. He stopped looking at Genevieve and, with a furrowed brow, glanced around the café’s interior, as if looking for something else to focus on.

I didn’t say any of that the right way. I know what I mean. I know what happened in me. I can’t explain it. God, please explain it to him. You make it clear because I can’t
.

“It looks like more foundational work is needed here than I realized,” Steven said.

Genevieve wasn’t sure if he was referring to the café or
to their marriage. Her voice was low as she said, “We can do it. It will be better than it ever was before. Sometimes when an important dream is demolished, it’s so it can be rebuilt better and stronger.”

Steven turned to his wife. “Do you really believe that?”

“Yes. For our marriage and for the café. Yes, I believe both of them will be better after they’re rebuilt.”

For a few moments they were silent. The faint scent of burnt wood and plastic tinged the air.

“Do you still want to go for a drive?” Steven asked.

“Yes. Do you?”

“Sure. Let’s take a quick walk through here first.”

Steven led the way into the new, open section of the café where the wall had come down.

Genevieve felt as if every step they took was a parallel to her life and their marriage. The wall had come down. The damage that had occurred wasn’t repaired instantly, but the possibilities and opportunities for rebuilding were wonderful. Why was Steven having such a hard time seeing this as a liberating experience? He seemed to have bristled at her words about forgiving him. Did Steven think he had done nothing wrong in their marriage?

How could any father brush off that he didn’t make it to the hospital in time to see his daughter’s birth? Or think it wasn’t painful for me to be at my mother’s funeral alone? His excuse was always the same: work. It was his alibi. Doesn’t he see the need to apologize to me even if his reason for missing all those important events was legitimate?

Genevieve realized she was heading down a path that
would lead her into darkness. She immediately stopped the bitter thoughts before they had a chance to embed themselves in her heart.

That’s all in the past. It’s forgiven. I’m free from the pain of those memories, and I choose not to hold it against Steven. It’s his stuff now. He’ll have to figure out what to do with it
.

As they silently walked around the café’s expanded interior, Genevieve remembered a conversation they had years ago when Steven said he had done nothing so bad that he needed a Savior to forgive him. The end result had been tears on Genevieve’s part because she was a new Christian and had been trying to explain to Steven that he needed to surrender his life to the Lord.

Instead of sinking into a deep sadness or feeling responsible to educate Steven on every human’s sinfulness and how every person had fallen short of what God desired to happen in his heart and life, she felt peace. All she could do was love her husband. That’s what this next season of her life was about. She was free inside. Free to love this man that she had married, no matter what happened.

Exiting through the back door, Genevieve noticed the old metal chair that Anna had pulled from the storage shed last spring. It was tucked under a large cedar tree behind the café where it had sat for months, waiting for a fresh coat of paint and a new assignment.

Someone had placed a couple of glass vases on the chair. They were blue glass. Perhaps they had been a find yesterday at a garage sale Leah had visited. Shooting out of the top of the larger blue vase was a shock of wildflowers, almost
spent for the season. Genevieve reached for one of the tall, blue bachelor buttons and twirled it between her fingers.

The poem from the framed, antique greeting card in Jessica’s kitchen came to mind.

A single wildflower, given with love

Is better than

A dozen perfect roses

Given with indifference.

Genevieve turned to her husband. “I want you to know something, Steven.”