Monica sat slouched down in the passenger seat of Tim’s car. Since they left the bar, she’d grown frustrated. She was embarrassed to have been caught, and she was now uncomfortable in the clothes she was wearing. She tried in vain to cover herself with the small handbag she carried. All her attempts to apologize and try to explain her reasoning fell on deaf ears.
Tim drove on in stony silence. He didn’t look at her, didn’t talk. His jaw was clenched so tight that Monica thought for sure he’d be giving himself a headache soon. And no doubt blame her for that too. She thought maybe she should try and jump out at the next red light, but they were pulling onto the highway.
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going? This is not the direction home. I think I at least deserve to be told that.” Monica leveled a frustrated gaze at him.
Tim scoffed. “Really? You deserve to be told where we’re going? Just like you deserved the money you got from selling something that didn’t belong to you? I think you can be satisfied that I’m not taking you to jail where you belong.”
His rebuke stung. This was not the Tim she had come to know. There was no gentleness about him now. No grace. Maybe she deserved what he was saying. She probably should have gone to jail years ago.
Monica decided not to reply. She watched the lights from road signs they passed blur in her peripheral vision before disappearing out of her line of sight. They were heading into Cleveland. She was becoming uncomfortable.
“I know where we’re going. You’re taking me to rehab, aren’t you?” Monica said tersely.
“You have forced my hand in this Monica. I want to help you. Even after the stunt you pulled tonight, I believe God has a plan for your life. I am so frustrated right now that I could spit. God wants so much better for you, and you throw opportunities to change back in His face.” He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “You need to get the drugs out of your system and your mind before you can begin to heal. Whether you believe me or not, this is the right thing for me to do.”
Monica didn’t know what to say. He was doing this because he cared? She thought it was to get back at her for taking advantage of his kindness. She wasn’t happy about not having a choice in the matter, but that would change once they got to their destination.
*****************
Though it was the middle of the night, lights burned brightly outside the rehab center. Inside, things were running like it was business as usual in the middle of the afternoon. People answered phones, nurses walked the hallways, and patients sat around chatting, trying to help each other keep their minds occupied.
Tim went straight to the counter without much looking around. He had obviously been here before. The greeting from the receptionist at the counter confirmed it.
“Hi, Tim. So, what have we got tonight? Another project I see.” The once-over Monica received made her even more uncomfortable. She felt like a cheap hooker, and knew she probably looked like one too. She ran a self-conscious hand through her hair, but stuck her chin out defiantly.
“Hi, Kelly. Yeah, she needs to be checked in immediately; full course of treatment. Detox for cocaine and I don’t know what else.”
The nurse smiled. “Sure, Tim. We’ll sort it all out. And how will you be paying?”
Tim looked over at Monica. “Cash.”
Monica realized he intended to use the money she got from the stolen ball to cover her treatment. She felt worse now. It was a moment before she realized they were both looking at her and waiting for the money.
The receptionist finally spoke. “We only need a down payment now, which is three thousand. You can pay the rest upon completion of the program. If you choose to leave early, which is your right, you will be refunded the difference, minus a service fee.”
Monica reached into her bag to count out the proper amount of cash. When she pulled out the money, the bag of coke Boss had shoved to her with it when he paid her for the ball fell out onto the floor. When Tim caught sight of it, Monica thought he was going to lose it and just kill her right there to get it over with.
Instead, he wiped a tired hand down his face, turned to the nurse and said, “Looks like she decided to check herself in none too soon. I have to go. Take good care of her. You know how to reach me. Have a good night Kelly.”
And with that he turned and walked out the door, leaving Monica alone in front of the desk, speechless. He hadn’t looked at her, hadn’t said goodbye or anything. She stooped to pick up the bag of coke, placed it on the counter, and cleared her throat.
“Well, here’s the first payment. Where do I sign?”
************************
After filling out countless forms and medical questionnaires, Monica was taken to a single room. It was small. She had a single bed, a small side table with one drawer, and a small dresser. There was a tiny, private bathroom attached to the room by the wall opposite the bed. The “suite” was sparsely furnished like a dorm room, and decorated like a hospital ward. Not a great place to spend large amounts of time.
After sitting on the bed to test it, and finding it harder than she liked, Monica removed her shoes and briefly rubbed her feet. She flexed her toes a bit as well, having forgotten how uncomfortable spiked heels were.
She walked into the bathroom and gasped at her appearance. She looked like a hooker. Mascara was smudged below each eye, her hair was a teased mess, and her lipstick was worn down to just the outside edges of her lips. Not to mention the fact that her breasts were only barely covered by her top. She looked down her body and saw herself in a new light. Her skirt was too short as well, covering only half the length of her thighs.
Monica wanted to take a shower in the worst way. She wanted to wash her feelings, and the whole experience from this night down the drain, never to be brought up again.
But she knew that wouldn’t happen. She’d have to talk about why she was here. It was part of the recovery process. These first few days would be torture. She’d have to work through getting her body and mind completely cleared of all thoughts of cocaine. Throw in some awkward therapy sessions with strangers, and she could pretty much guarantee hating Tim by the end of the week.
Monica walked back into her room and looked in the dresser. There were two sets of pajamas that looked more like hospital gowns, and three sets of rehab-issued day clothes. The nurse had promised to be back in a little while to collect Monica’s personal things.
Monica left everything in a neat pile on her bed, and went to take her shower. She hoped she looked cleaner on the outside when she was finished than she felt on the inside.
*****************
Tim drove back toward home. He was angry and confused, but not surprised.
“Lord, I don’t know why I thought she would make better progress. I am so angry and frustrated right now. I know I should be more compassionate, but I don’t feel like it. I know what it’s like to be at the lowest place you’ve ever been, and I think that’s where Monica is now. God, I pray you would break her while she’s there. Let her see what she’s let herself become. Whatever is holding her back, keeping her stuck on coke, reveal it to her and help her get past it. I’m sorry if I handled it badly, but I am so tired of seeing Satan rule people’s lives.”
Tim drove on, chatting with the Lord. He slowly felt peace come over him, and he knew he had done the right thing. Rehab was a place where the past confronted you and no one let you make excuses for your behavior. As soon as Monica was through with detox, he’d send her to his friend in Tennessee and help her with the spiritual aspect of it all.
Maybe when all this was finally over she would thank him. Not that he expected it, or even wanted that; his ministry was for God’s glory, not his own. But maybe Monica would get to a place where thankfulness would spill over, and she’d let him know she was better.
He believed God could do it. God could do anything. And from what he’d encountered in this situation already, it would take an act of God for her to change.
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Four
The week flew by for Sarah. She was busy at the Library working daily after school, and planning to get ready for the move to Tennessee in a few short months. Time seemed to be running out for everything. In just a couple weeks it would be exam time, and then graduation practice.
She was still amazed at the wonderful place in which she now lived. The Lepleys were so generous. Her apartment was completely separate from their house, so if they wanted to visit, they had to knock on the door in the back. Sarah was more than satisfied. She had dinner with them on Tuesday night after work, and turned down invitations for the other evenings. She didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself.
Last Monday Mrs. Lepley had taken her to the grocery store, and Sarah bought her first load of groceries ever. It was exciting to come home and be able to fill the pantry shelves with the little she had purchased. She would definitely need some help in the kitchen, since her only experience had been making mac and cheese and chicken nuggets when she was a child. Since then she hadn’t cooked at all.
It was Friday night, and she sat on one of the couches in her living room, watching HGTV. There were so many shows she had never seen, and she could waste many hours if she wasn’t careful. Sarah loved being able to stretch out on the couch, or the floor, or her bed, or snuggle in one of the comfy chairs. Just the fact that she had a place to call her own that wasn’t dark and hidden like a cave was such a blessing.
The rumbling of Sarah’s stomach signaled it was time for dinner. She extracted herself from the couch, turned the TV off and headed to the kitchen. Though she didn’t cook many things, she did know how to open a jar of spaghetti sauce and follow the directions on the pack of spaghetti to boil the noodles. And since she decided to add more fruits and veggies to her diet she would make a small salad as well.
While waiting for the pasta to boil, Sara leaned against the counter and looked around. She silently thanked God once again for this place, the people he had brought into her life, and the hope she now had that even things with her Mother may one day turn out alright. As she gathered the salad things, her thoughts drifted to Tyler. What was his family like? What things did his Mom make for dinner? Were they loud at the table, each trying to talk at once to share their day? Or was dinner a quiet affair where everyone ate in silence?
Tyler. Her date with him was tomorrow. Tomorrow! She set the salad things on the counter quickly, and put her hands to her cheeks. What should she wear? What would they be doing? Why had she said yes?
Sarah had never been on a date before. As if sensing her inner turmoil, the pasta water boiled over and hissed against the burner. Sarah jumped, surprised by the sound, and quickly turned down the heat. As she mopped up the bit of water on the stove top, she came to a decision. She would ask for help.
*********************
The cool evening air felt good on Sarah’s flushed cheeks as she walked the short distance to the front of the house. The Lepleys were home, she knew, because they had invited her to dinner yet again. Her own dinner tasted fine, though the pasta had been a bit chewy. It had not been enjoyable because her thoughts had jumped from the time she had spent with Tyler at the college, to snippets of their conversation on the plane, to what the “date” might entail the next day.
After hurrying through her small amount of dishes, she now found herself pausing just to the left of the Lepley’s front door. Should she ring the bell? She felt silly. What would she say? Yes, Mrs. Lepley was a sweet woman, but she’d been married for at least thirty years. What advice could she possibly give? And yet Sarah found herself here on their front porch, wanting to ask questions.
Sarah leaned back against the siding, and quickly leaned forward again at the sound of the bell. She had accidentally pushed it with her back. Well, no reconsidering now. Mrs. Lepley was already in the entry way waving at her and smiling.
***********************
The smell of roast beef hit Sarah’s nose as she was ushered inside. Mrs. Lepley gave her a quick hug and led her into the dining room.
“Did you change your mind about dinner dear?” She asked with a smile. “We haven't started yet, and you know you’re always welcome. Mr. Lepley and I are happy to have you.”
Sarah hadn’t thought they might not be finished with their own dinner. She had thoughtlessly rushed through hers.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you hadn’t started. I have already eaten. I’ll just come back another time. I’m sorry I interrupted your evening. Have a pleasant night.” She started to leave the room to let herself out.
“Now you just wait right there, young lady.” Mr. Lepley said. “You sit yourself down and keep an old couple company. I haven’t heard anything about your trip, or how you like living here, so I’m gonna need you to fill me in. Mrs. Lepley, though she likes to talk, doesn’t always give an old man the details he wants to hear. I like to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”
He had stood from his chair as he spoke, and pulled a seat out for Sarah. She sat, reluctantly, and tried to smile. She didn’t like being the center of attention, but she would do as he asked. They had done so much for her, she couldn’t refuse.
After the blessing, Mr. Lepley turned his eyes to Sarah and told her, “Begin anywhere you like. Tell me how the college was, how your flight was, if anything interesting happened. Heard you even took in a church service while you were there.” He winked and she knew he meant he wanted to know about Tyler.
************************
Sarah was full from a large slice of blueberry pie, and from the advice she had received from the Lepleys. They were so gracious. They hadn’t thought her at all foolish. Mr. Lepley had excused himself to the kitchen, and she and Mrs. Lepley had spoken in private.
She knew how to behave now, how to dress. It was of the utmost importance that she act like a lady. She had no problems keeping herself modest. She was to be herself, and behave in a way that honored the Lord. After finishing her pie, and praying with Mrs. Lepley, Sarah had returned to the solitude of her apartment.
She picked up her Bible from her dresser and flopped down onto her bed. She lay for a few moments with her eyes closed, thinking. She sat up again, and realized she hadn’t called Tyler yet. She jumped off the bed and retrieved her phone from her purse. Dialing carefully, she punched in the numbers scrawled on the paper in her hand.
It only took one ring before he answered. “Hello, this is Tyler can I help you?”
Suddenly Sarah’s throat was dry and she couldn’t remember what she wanted to say. She cleared her throat and forced out a greeting. “Hi Tyler. This is Sarah. I have been busy, and I forgot to call. Sorry.”
“Sarah! Wow, I was wondering if you changed your mind about tomorrow.” His voice sounded relived to hear from her, and that boosted Sarah’s confidence.
“No, actually. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” Her cheeks flamed, although there was no one around to notice.
“Well,” Tyler began, “I was hoping so. I’ll pick you up at four o’clock, ok? Where should I meet you?”
“Oh, well, you can come to my place to get me.” Sarah told him her address and then asked a few questions to get an idea of what they would be doing, so she would know how to dress. “Remember, come to the door around the back of the house. Knock loud.” Sarah laughed nervously as Tyler promised he wouldn’t forget. They hung up, and Sarah stared at the phone for a few minutes.
Even thinking about spending the afternoon with Tyler made her nervous. She decided a long, hot shower was what she needed to calm her nerves. That, and a bowl of ice cream.
Chapter Twenty Three
As Monica drove down 71 North, the purse on the passenger seat next to her seemed to be staring at her. She picked it up and threw it on the floor in the back seat. Monica glanced at herself in the flip-down mirror of her sun visor.
Same old Monica, a voice in her head commented. When are you going to learn? You won’t get away with doing wrong. You made a commitment to God, remember?
“Oh shut up.” Monica said aloud and flipped the mirror back up. “I know what I’m doing. I just have to be quick is all. No talking to anyone, no looking around, no lingering. Just in and out. I can do this. Besides, it’s not like I can just drive to Tim’s house and tell him what I did.”
Why not? The voice in her head asked again.
“Don’t start with me, Conscience. I’m not really in the mood. It’ll all work out, you’ll see.”
She pulled up her black tube top and let out a deep breath. Usually when she went downtown she didn’t plan on coming home until the next afternoon. Or later. Well, tonight would be different. She just needed this money and then she’d work on living right. Surely God could understand that.
Twenty minutes later she pulled up outside the familiar bar. She’d have to go inside and find Boss. She put her car in park and took several deep breaths before she decided to make her way to the dimly lit entrance.
The beat of the music spilled out the door into the street, as did the sounds of laughter and clinking glass. Several men whistled and called out to her as she passed.
“Later guys.” She called over her shoulder. “First I need to take care of some business.” She winked at them and waved, then headed inside.
You really like the way they look at you? The way their eyes are hoping to get a glimpse of something more than a smile?
She shrugged off the remark her conscience made and walked through the noisy crowd to the room farthest back in the bar. Familiar faces lingered somewhere behind the haze of smoke. The smells of alcohol and tobacco laced with who knew what met Monica head on.
Scantily clad women, not unlike Monica herself, were draped across various men on the beat up furnishings. Monica averted her gaze and stepped through another doorway covered in long strands of beads, finding the man she was looking for.
Boss was sitting at a counter with a band around his arm and a needle in his hand, getting ready to shoot up. Two other guys were talking and playing cards at a nearby table. A woman in a bustier, fishnets and a micro mini was bringing them drinks from a private bar. Monica approached him from the side and waited until he looked her way before speaking.
“Hey Doll. I was just thinkin’ about you, wondering where you been the past coupla days. I heard rumors that you got religion.” He gave her an appreciating glance, taking in her minimal clothing. “But I can see they was mistaken.” He laughed.
Monica pulled at the short length of her mini skirt and crossed her arms casually. “So, I got somethin’ for ya. I know how much you like baseball, and I need the money. I know how much it’s worth, so don’t try to con me. Just pay up and I’ll be on my way. I got things to do.” Monica hoped she sounded convincing.
“Baseball, huh?” At this Boss put the needle down and looked expectantly at her. It was the one thing he loved more than getting high. “So, let me see.” He demanded.
Monica rummaged in her purse and pulled out the baseball. Boss’ eyes widened when he saw the inscription, ‘Ty Cobb
“Well, how do I know this is an original?” Boss looked over the ball, examining it carefully.
“Do I look like the kind of person who would willingly cross you? You know me better than that, right? I just know what you like, know what I need, and thought we could make a deal. If you’re not interested…” Monica plucked the ball from his hand and started to leave.
“No, wait. I was just checking. I don’t want no bogus materials cluttering up my display. You know how it is. So, where’d you get it?” He reached again for the ball, then walked around the counter. He stooped down, obviously opening the safe. He placed the ball inside, then stood with a couple stacks of bills in his hands.
Monica tried not to look at the pile of money while she answered. “I prefer not to reveal my sources. You know, can’t have everyone getting in on my stuff. A girl has to keep some things secret. What’s my pay?”
Boss laughed and handed her the money. “I’ll give you eight thousand for it and no more. I need this ball, but seeing as how you’re desperate I won’t pay market value. Like I ever do.” He laughed at his comment before continuing. “And I’ll throw in a little somethin’ extra.” He handed her a bag of coke. “Thanks Doll. You can get back to your “business” now while I get back to mine.” He re-tied his arm, then picked up the needle.
Monica breathed a sigh of relief as she stuffed the money in her purse. She left the room before Boss could prick his skin with the needle. She shuddered and tried to make her way back to the exit, but was grabbed at the waist from behind by a pair of strong hands.
“I knew you wouldn’t last. It’s not so easy as all that to walk away now is it?” She immediately recognized the warm, intoxicated breath on her neck. Joe was here living it up just like he did every weekend. “Welcome back, Pet. What can I do for you?”
Joe moved his hands over her body, and kissed her neck. Monica did her best to keep her cool, though she wanted to punch him in the face. She wriggled from his embrace and faced him. “Sorry Joe, I don’t have time. I just stopped in to see Boss for a minute. I had some unfinished business. Oh, and here.” She dug in her purse and pulled the money she owed him from the pile. “Here’s what I owe you. I believe we’re now even.”
Joe looked at the money, then shouted “A round for everyone on me!” Then he disappeared into the crowd and noise.
Monica took the opportunity to work her way back to the entrance and step out into the cool of the evening. She blew kisses at the men standing by the door, then walked to her car. She stopped in the middle of the street, caught by Tim’s hard gaze.
****************************
“What are you doing here?” Monica demanded. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. She was still mad at him for his comment earlier in the afternoon.
Tim walked around to her driver’s side door and leaned against it, preventing her entrance. “I should ask you the same thing.” His jaw was tense, and he looked furious. “What do you think you’re doing here? Is this what you had to ‘think about’ so you couldn’t come to church tonight?”
Monica was extremely uncomfortable with his being there, and felt almost naked with her lack of clothing. She tried to cover her body by hugging herself, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. She didn’t know what to say, so she lashed out in anger.
She put her hands on her hips before striking out. “Were you following me? What, did you do a stakeout on the street, waiting for me to leave so you could see where I was going? A lot of trust you put in the people you try to help. How do you have the time to follow everyone, don’t you have a job?”
“That’s not what happened. I stopped by to see if you had eaten, and if you were feeling alright. And, I came to confront you about the baseball you stole from my house. Before I could cut the engine and get out of my car, you were backing out of the driveway. So I followed you. I thought if you were going out to eat we could talk. Guess I was way off. So, where is it?” His face was stone cold, and he expected an answer.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Monica lied. “You’re the one who wanted to go to your place after lunch, not me. All I did was look, then sat on the couch. Maybe you lost the baseball.”
Tim laughed. “Right. ‘Cause I usually take it to practice with me when I’m coaching the T-ball team.” He narrowed his eyes. “That ball belonged to my grandfather. It was signed by Ty Cobb on my Grandad’s birthday. Do you have any idea how much it means to me? What did you do with it?”
Monica winced. Of course the ball would have sentimental value to someone like Tim. He didn’t have it just because it was worth money. His family had cared about him. His father had kept those things for him. They were all Tim had left, since his parents were both dead.
Monica was finally overcome by guilt. She lowered her eyes to the ground before replying. “I sold it. I needed the money. I didn’t know it was worth so much, or that it meant so much to you.” She dug the rest of the money out of her purse and thrust it toward him. “Here, take it.”
Tim looked wide eyed at the money, then Monica. “You think I want that money? I want the ball. Did you sell it to someone in there?” he said, gesturing with disgust to the bar. “You have to get it back. Now.” He grabbed her by the arm, meaning to force her back across the street.
Monica was surprised at his reaction and fought against it. “That’s impossible! I sold it and got eight thousand dollars for it. Eight thousand dollars. You can’t go in there demanding it back. He’ll kill you. The guy I sold it to was just shooting up. He won’t be in his right mind.” Monica’s look was pleading. She didn’t want to be made a fool, and surprisingly, didn’t want Tim hurt either.
Tim looked her over, as if to verify the truth of her statement. He dropped her arm, walked to his car, and opened the door. He nodded to the passenger side. “Get in.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Tyler and Sarah exited the plane, then stood awkwardly next to the row of people walking up the gang plank, watching for
“Come. Let’s have prayer before we part ways, alright?” He offered a prayer of thanksgiving for the friendship God had formed between them, safety of their travel, then asked a special blessing for Sarah on her birthday.
“You sure you have a ride? We’ll be happy to take you home.”
“It’s fine. Mrs. Lepley should be here any minute.” Sarah quickly scanned the lobby. “There she is.” She said and pointed. She turned back to
“
“Ok. Don’t forget.”
*****************************************
Sarah recounted the events of the weekend, and Mrs. Lepley said things like ‘Praise the Lord!’ and ‘Well, I’ll be’ and ‘Isn’t that just like the Lord.’
Sarah just smiled. After she shared her experience with Christ, Mrs. Lepley cried so hard she couldn’t speak. She didn’t say anything for a full ten minutes. She just grabbed Sarah’s hand and squeezed every once in a while as she shook her head. “Wonderful, just wonderful!” she finally managed to say.
After getting control of herself she said, “Now, someone’s birthday is today if I’m not mistaken, so we must go and celebrate. Are you hungry?” Mrs. Lepley’s eyes implored, not taking no for an answer.
The snacks from the plane had long since worn off, and Sarah was ready for dinner. “Yes, I’m starved.” She replied.
“Well, I want you to pick your favorite place to eat, but not Mexican. I had that for lunch and to tell you the truth, Mr. Lepley had enough beans for the both of us!”
Sarah laughed and looked over at her friend. Her heart swelled with thanksgiving and love. Mrs. Lepley had been so wonderfully kind to her. Sarah’s eyes brimmed with tears, but she did not cry. She just shared a quiet moment with the Lord, enjoying her new-found relationship with Him as they traveled down highway 71 South.
********************
Sarah wanted pasta for dinner, as she planned on a nice long run before bed. She chose Olive Garden. She had never been to this restaurant before, but heard the food was nice. Mrs. Lepley seemed relieved not to be going somewhere that would further threaten her already precarious digestive situation.
They were seated at a corner table for two in the non-smoking section. After deferring wine and instead ordering soft drinks, they settled into the padded seats and looked over the menu.
Sarah didn’t know what to get. Her eyes got big as she noticed the prices. She had never paid over five dollars for a meal she purchased herself. The prices here were almost double that.
Mrs. Lepley must have noticed her discomfort, for she said “Don’t you worry, Dear. This is your birthday. Your eighteenth birthday. You get anything and everything you want. I mean it. No skimping tonight. I have strict orders from Mr. Lepley not to come home without stuffing you to the gills. Do you like toasted ravioli? Want to share that as an appetizer?”
Sarah just nodded. She had never had that before, but didn’t want to say no. She still couldn’t believe that people wanted to spend money on her. Did this happen to other people so often?
She looked over the menu a few moments longer, then decided on the garlic chicken and broccoli pasta, though she couldn’t begin to pronounce the Italian name it was given.
After their orders had been taken, the waiter came back with a large bowl of salad and a basket of bread sticks.
“Let me say a birthday blessing for you while I bless the food, alright?” Mrs. Lepley asked. Sarah nodded again.
“Lord, we come before you tonight as your children. Thank you for giving Sarah new life through your Son Christ, that’s an answer to my prayers. Thank you for showing her the truth, and letting her know you love her. She is special to me, God.
“I pray Father that you would guide her steps. Help her to be a bold witness of your truth so that many may come to know you because of her testimony. I pray for her to be a virtuous woman that would seek you with her whole heart.
“I pray for her new friend Tyler, that they could support and help each other while they’re so far away from home and family. Help them be strong. Bring them other friends that know and love you.
“I pray this would be a wonderful birthday for Sarah. Please bless our meal and our conversation, that you would be glorified. Thank You for Your love and grace. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Sarah’s tears were falling softly down her cheeks, but she was smiling. God was so good to her. How had she gone so long not knowing? Mrs. Lepley’s prayer of blessing was just another way He whispered his love for her.
Sarah wiped her eyes as she laughed. “I have cried and laughed so much today that if someone had watched me from afar they would probably think I’ve lost my mind.”
Mrs. Lepley took a sip of her Coke before answering. “Yes, and you will continue to do so. The love of the Lord will just overwhelm you sometimes and you’ll find yourself crying for no apparent reason, other than you feel so loved and happy. Salad?”
Mrs. Lepley dished out salad and bread sticks. The meal was one of the best Sarah had eaten. She felt that way about most of the food she’d eaten this weekend. She had even forced down a thick slice of velvety cheesecake which arrived with a candle and the staff singing happy birthday.
Mrs. Lepley received a phone call shortly before they were ready to go. She said yes into the phone a lot and uh-huh, ok sounds good. Sarah had no idea who she was talking to, and did not make it her business to find out.
As they walked to the parking lot, Sarah stretched, trying to encourage her food to move it’s way down and give her organs some breathing room. She had eaten way too much.
Once in the car Mrs. Lepley pulled a little gift bag from the back seat and handed it to Sarah. “Just a little something from Mr. Lepley and me so we can keep in touch.”
Sarah was truly surprised. What more could they possibly give her? She reached down into the bag and pulled out a new cell phone. She gasped. How could they afford such an expensive gift?
“I cannot accept this. It is too much. Do you know how much cell phones cost?” Sarah said in disbelief.
“Yes, dear. I bought that one. I do know how much they cost, and I also know that a young woman whom I care a great deal about will not be leaving the state without a way to contact her ‘Grandma’ should she need something.
“I meant what I said tonight Sarah. You are special to me. I’ve known you since you were in elementary school and used to hide out in the library ‘til closing time. I’ve watched you grow and blossom. I think of you as one of my own.”
Her voice became stern. “And I will not have you leaving me without a way for me to get in touch with you. So, you will keep this phone and you will call me at least once a week and let me know how you are. Alright?” She patted Sarah’s knee. “Now let’s get you home.”
Sarah smiled to herself and thanked the Lord again for His goodness.
**********************
The trip had caught up with her, and Sarah was just waking when the engine stopped. She looked around, confused. They weren't at the library. They were in a residential neighborhood, one Sarah had never seen before.
“Well Sweetie, here we are. I’ll help you with your bag. Don’t worry, you’ll be settled into bed soon enough.” Mrs. Lepley walked around to the trunk and pulled out Sarah’s carry on, then disappeared behind the garage.
Sarah stretched, then left the car and hurried to catch up. She walked around the back of the house and found Mrs. Lepley standing outside a door on the back of the house. Mrs. Lepley fumbled in her purse and finally located her keys. It was a quiet, star-filled night. Mrs. Lepley giggled and broke the silence.
“You know now that you’re eighteen you really need a place of your own that you can be an adult in. No more of this hiding out and living in a storage closet." She handed the keys to Sarah. "Maybe you’d like to give me a tour of your new place?”
Sarah didn't know what to say. What was Mrs. Lepley talking about? Sarah had never been here before, let alone called it home. She opened her mouth to protest, but Mrs. Lepley urged her on. "Go ahead, open the door already."
Sarah turned the key in the lock and walked in. She found herself in an obviously renovated apartment. The colors were fresh, but neutral enough to accommodate any color scheme. Directly in front of her was a living area with two comfy couches, an entertainment center housing a TV and VCR, a lamp in the corner, and a desk with a filing cabinet.
To her left was an arched entryway leading to a dining room and full kitchen. Sarah could hardly believe it. What a wonderful little home! But where would she sleep? Did the couch fold out into a bed? She walked back through to the living area, and noticed a door she missed the first time. She opened it entered a moderately sized bedroom. Beyond that was an en-suite bathroom. A door on the other side of the bathroom led her back into the dining room. The setup was perfect.
Mrs. Lepley still stood in the doorway, watching Sarah's face. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Mr. Lepley's Mama used to live here with us before she passed on. We had always talked about cleaning it out and renting it to one of the young people from church, but never got around to it. A few months ago I had the idea that you would need a place to stay when you came home on holidays, and I thought what better place than my home?
"I don't want you to pay rent. Not until you've graduated college and have a job that earns enough. Think of this as God's way of making sure you are cared for and get a fair shot at being a success. We are more than happy to have you. Please make an old woman happy and say you'll stay."
Sarah had never known people could care for others this way. All weekend God had shown her time and again how He was caring for her through His people. She was crying again, though she had sternly told herself not to. Love was new to her. It made her heart swell and tears fall.
She grabbed Mrs. Lepley in a fierce embrace. She had many questions, including when she would collect her things from the Library. Right now she shook off her coat, hung it up on one of the hooks next to the door and invited Mrs. Lepley inside.
“Won’t you come in? Please take off your coat and sit down.” Sarah then narrowed her eyes. “You’ve got some ‘splainin' to do Lucy.” She said in her best Desi impression.
Mrs. Lepley laughed and shook out of her coat as well. “I guess you have the right to ask away. Though I may not reveal my sources for everything. Let’s just say there were a lot of people at church willing to donate to our little project. A few helped move your things from the Library this afternoon. You should come to church sometime and meet them.”
Sarah wanted that. She wanted somewhere she could go to church and find people like this, especially if they were anything like the Lepleys. Or the Williamses. Her thoughts drifted to
“Sorry, I’m already booked this Sunday.” she said.
Mrs. Lepley smiled knowingly. “Let me guess,
Chapter Twenty-One
They pulled into the gas station, and Tim climbed out to pump the gas. Monica tried not to act annoyed, but couldn’t wait to get away from him. She looked around the car, wondering what Tim did for work that afforded him a car like this.
He peeked his head in the window and told her he was going to grab some snacks and a couple cold drinks while the tank was filling.
“Do you want or need anything?” he asked.
“No. I’m fine.” Monica answered somewhat curtly. She turned her face back to the window.
Tim left, and Monica looked around the car. It was neat as a pin. She couldn’t resist nosing around his stuff, and opened the glove box. There were a couple CDs, the registration and insurance papers, and a travel pack of tissues.
How boring. Tim was an extremely organized person. A place for everything and everything in its place. Her own car was littered with so much garbage. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cleaned it. Just one more thing he did right and she did wrong.
Tim came back to the car then. As they were pulling out of the lot, his cell phone rang. “Hey Mark. Is everything still on for this afternoon?” he paused, listening to the caller. “Oh, really?” His eyes narrowed in concern. “Hmm, that kind of puts me in a bad spot.” He glanced at Monica. “You know what, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.” He paused again, listening. “Yeah, sure. I can do that, no problem. Take care buddy.”
Tim hung up his phone and looked at Monica again. “My friend needs a favor. I know it looks inappropriate, and I don’t normally do this, but it’s an emergency. Do you mind if we go to my place so I can change and grab some stuff I need for a friend? It won’t take more than ten minutes, I promise. I could take you home first, but then I’d be backtracking. Going to my place first will save me at least half an hour. Are you comfortable with that?” He looked at her with concern.
“Sure, I guess.” Monica tried to sound casual, but was inwardly annoyed. Why should she do him any favors? A curiosity filled her and she wanted to see if his house was as neat as his car. “That’s fine.” She managed to reply, then turned to the window and allowed herself a smile.
**********************
They pulled up to Tim's house a short while later. It was a small, square one story white house with black shutters. The garage was detached and sat twenty feet or so from the house.
"Come on in while I change. No need for you to sit out here alone. I promise I won't bite." Tim said laughing.
I doubt that. Monica thought to herself. But she followed Tim. She had to admit she was curious as to what this tiny house looked like on the inside.
They entered by what Monica assumed must be the den. It was larger than she expected, and looked to be an add-on from a previous generation. Tim ran up the two small steps leading to the galley kitchen. "Have a seat, I’ll be right back." He called over his shoulder.
Monica took the opportunity to look around. His house was meticulously clean. A far cry from how her house usually looked. There was a display case near the bay window that housed a baseball collection. Some were new, others looked very old. They were probably collector's items, worth a lot of money. Money? Hmm...
Glancing into the kitchen to make sure Tim was still out of sight, Monica selected a ball near the back and slipped it into her purse. She would take it as Tim's way of helping her let go of the past by paying her debt to Joe. Surely he wouldn't miss one baseball, especially one so hidden in the back.
Monica moved to the opposite side of the room. No use in lingering around the case and causing suspicion. She settled onto the reclining end of a soft brown couch. She leaned her head back and ignored the voice pleading with her to replace the ball before Tim returned.
He startled her by bounding down the steps carrying a small duffel bag. "Ready?" he asked, turning around to find her.
"Yep." Monica stood and threw her purse over her shoulder. She looked Tim over as if checking him out for the first time. He had muscular legs, and she could see the outline of his trim body beneath his t-shirt. She smiled a fake smile. He was unknowingly helping two friends with this short detour. "Ready when you are." She said.
**********************
It took a while to convince Tim that everything was alright, but he finally left Monica to herself. She had also informed him she wouldn’t be attending the service that evening. She had a lot to think about and needed some time alone. Tim seemed to think she had taken his earlier words to heart, and said something encouraging that Monica ignored. She walked into the house, relieved to find everything was indeed fine.
After changing into comfortable clothes, she couldn’t help but notice the mess in her room. The downstairs looked good, clean. Her room, however was a complete disaster. She decided to use her newfound frustration with Tim as energy to tackle the grime in her attached bath.
When that was finished and in order, she picked up load after load of clothing in her arms and crammed them down the laundry chute in the hallway. Much of her time this evening would be spent in the basement, it seemed.
Monica walked to the hallway closet and brought out the vacuum. Now that she could see the floor of her room, she wanted it clean. It was littered with crumbs, pieces of paper, lint and string. Not to mention food wrappers and tissues. She started in her room and worked her way down the hall. She vacuumed the other upstairs bedroom Brad had turned into an office long ago. She stopped when she came to Sarah’s room.
Monica hadn’t been in this room much since Sarah had left. She’d slept in the bed a few times when her own was too filthy, but she hadn’t even opened the door in months.
Deciding she needed to deal with her feelings, Monica went inside. The room smelled musty, so Monica moved to the window to let in some fresh air.
She looked around, surprised at how few things decorated the room. No books or toys to clutter the floor and built in shelves. No TV or other things you’d expect to see in a pre-teen’s room. Not even any posters decorated the walls. Just a bed, a small table with a lamp, and a dresser near the window.
For the first time Monica thought how sad Sarah’s life must have been. How lonely and miserable. An overwhelming sense of regret swept over Monica, and she sat on the bed and wept. Her tears turned to anger. Anger at what her life could have been like, of the relationship she could’ve had with Sarah. The mother she should have been. But she’d given all that up for a temporary high. An alternate reality. She was disgusted with herself.
Monica walked to the dresser and jerked the drawers out. She dumped the clothes in a pile, threw the others from the closet onto it, then stripped the bed. A small notebook landed on the floor. Monica threw the bed covers onto the pile of clothes, then stooped to read the cover of the little book.
Sarah’s Diary
The words were written in a neat, girly script. Monica’s hands shook. Dare she open it and face her daughter’s thoughts? Monica didn’t know if she could handle it. She stared at it for a long while, wondering what kind of child Sarah had really been.
After a few minutes, she took the notebook to her own now-clean room and placed it on her nightstand. She backed away from it, as though she didn’t trust it not to follow her.
Monica went quickly down to the kitchen and brought two large garbage bags up to Sarah’s room. She stuffed all the clothes and bedding into them. Then she marched to the garage and threw them into the garbage bins. She was breathing heavily, overcome with memories of the past. She hoped ridding the house of the items would help erase the pain.
Monica ran back up to her room, threw herself on the bed, and burst into tears for the second time that day.
*********************
The room was shrouded in shadow when Monica finally opened her eyes. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have cried herself out. Her mind quickly replayed the events of the afternoon for her. She glanced at her bedside table. There lay the diary.
She ignored it and went to the kitchen to get some food. All the while she prepared her sandwich, her thoughts drifted to what she might find written in that little book. Maybe she should just throw it out with the rest of the garbage. Maybe she should burn it. She definitely should not read it. She couldn’t bring herself to even crack open the cover. She wouldn’t.
The kitchen table felt lonely, so Monica sat in the living room. She turned on the TV for noise, and found the stupid show where people send in videos of their ‘amazing’ pets. She changed the channel. She couldn’t take any more remarks from an obnoxious man today.
She settled for the weather channel and watched as people recorded tornadoes. Those people should have been safely tucked away in their homes, but they were drawn in by the storm, wanting to catch it on film. The wind whipped around them, the funnel cloud came ever closer; still they didn’t move. Not until the last possible second for escape came did they turn tail.
Monica took her dish to the sink and thought about the book upstairs. She would be facing the violent storm of her past, seeing it through Sarah’s eyes. Finding that diary was like spotting a funnel cloud.
Instead of getting rid of it like she should have, she held on for dear life, wondering when it would be too late to let go. What would happen if she read it? Should she put herself through that? What good could possibly come from it? Could dredging up the past serve any purpose other than to punish herself?
She couldn’t stay in the house any longer. The book was tugging at her curiosity. Maybe she should take a walk around the neighborhood. Better yet, she could go for a drive. She’d crank up the radio and sing to her heart’s content. That always helped her feel better in the past. Then she could swing through somewhere and get an ice cream cone. Yes, that was what she would do.
As she dug through her purse to see if she had any cash, she spotted the baseball. For a moment a sense of guilt washed over her. She quickly shook it off, reminding herself how rude Tim had been. She justified her feelings and her sin of stealing by saying Tim wanted her to move on from the past.
Well, the sooner she paid off her debt to Joe, the sooner she could breathe easier, and Tim's baseball would help her do just that. Then she could forget about him and move on with her life. She could think about selling the house and moving on to
Monica headed upstairs, brushed her teeth and ran a brush through her hair. She checked her makeup and ran a finger under each eye. When she was satisfied, she put on some of her clubbing clothes, and went back downstairs.
On the way back through the kitchen to the garage, she grabbed her purse, pushed away the knocking on her heart to return the ball to Tim, and went to the car. She knew someone who would take the baseball off her hands at a good price. She just didn’t know if she’d come back sober.
Before she could remind herself why she wanted to leave that part of her life in the past, before she could talk herself out of it, she climbed in the car and headed toward the city, never noticing the car that followed.
Chapter Twenty
Sarah was reminded of the stories in the Bible she had read, and how Jesus had told even the woman caught in adultery to go and sin no more. She decided she trusted the Williams men. If Jesus had truly forgiven her sin, then her past didn’t matter. So, she told them her story, including how Mrs. Lepley had been there for her. They both sat in awe taking in the horrible details that comprised Sarah’s youth.
When she was finished with her story, she found she felt relieved they knew. Maybe they were going to be special friends God had brought to her. Whatever the case, she was glad she’d told them. She felt a new freedom. No more hiding from her past. If it was going to make her stronger, she couldn’t keep running from it.
Mr. Williams was the first to speak. “Sarah I’m very sorry for all that you’ve been through. You’re a very brave young woman. I’m so glad you’ve found a new life in Christ.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket. “If there’s ever anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call. Here’s my card.”
Mr. Williams handed her an expensive looking business card. She glanced at it briefly, but noticed he was a lawyer.
“Thanks.” Sarah said. “I’ve never told anyone about my life before. Some people know I was abused, but no one knew how bad, or that I had run away. I really appreciate you being so nice to me. It kinda renews my faith in men.”
They smiled at one another then packed up and headed toward the gate. Their flight would be leaving in forty-five minutes.
They chose seats in front of the large windows facing the runway, and Sarah couldn’t help but laugh to herself as she remembered how
She stole a glance at
“Ok,” he said catching her expression. “What’s so funny? Do I have something in my teeth?” He made a goofy face. “Maybe my hair is sticking up?” He pawed the top of his head. Then he looked Sarah in the eye and said “What gives?”
Sarah didn’t dare tell him. So she decided to tell him she was just thinking. Then she asked about his church.
“I’d like that.” She said. They sat a few moments in silence, and Sarah was about to give away her thoughts when the flight attendant called their row for boarding.
They moved along in the line, then Mr. Williams said “You two haven’t really gotten to know one another, so Sarah, why don’t you take my seat on the flight back. Then you two can chat. I need to make review some business and prepare for court tomorrow.”
Tyler and she looked at one another. Sarah smiled warily. What if
“I’d say the smile on Ty’s face more than confirms the wisdom of my decision.” Mr. Williams and Sarah laughed as
*****************************************
Once they were settled, Sarah and Tyler sat in awkward silence. It felt strange to be without
They sat patiently through the mandatory flight attendant announcements and safety regulations. Tyler mimicked their movements, and made Sarah laugh. She playfully slapped his arm and whispered for him to stop. The brief contact with his skin sent sparks up her arm. Had he felt it too?
“So,” Sarah began when the speech was finally over. “What would you like to talk about?”
Sarah was surprised he had asked her so boldly. She didn’t answer right away. Was he asking her out because he felt sorry for her? She couldn’t believe he would want to date her after hearing her life story just a while ago.
“That is,”
Sarah laughed and cut him off before he made a complete fool of himself. “I’d love to. I’ve never been on a date before.”
It was
“I’m so what?” Sarah asked innocently, though she thought she could fill in the blanks.
“What’re you gonna do when you get back?”
Sarah shrugged. I’ll probably unpack and then find something for dinner. Mrs. Lepley’s picking me up and she promised me a birthday surprise. I have no idea what that means, but she may take me out for dinner.”
“I don’t know. What do people do on dates?” Sarah asked sincerely. “I’ve never really been anywhere or done anything, so pretty much whatever you choose will be a first for me.”
She decided to get the focus off their date. “You know all about me now, so would you tell me how you met Jesus,
“We kids? How big is your family anyway?” Sarah interrupted.
“Oh yeah. Guess I haven’t told you much about us, have I? Well, there’s my younger brother Nate who’s fifteen, the eight year old twins Amy and Jessica, and the baby, Josh. Though he’s not a baby anymore. He’s six. Oh, and me. Five altogether.
“Anyway, my parents were ready to divorce. My mom was so tired of being alone with my brother and I, and she never saw my dad. Sure, we had a nice house and everything we wanted, but none of us were happy.
“One Sunday my mom finally gave in to my aunt, and decided church couldn’t do us any harm/ So we went. My dad didn’t go, he was out of town on business. My mom, who was hurting and in desperate need of love, gave her heart to Jesus. Though I was only eight at the time, I remember thinking I wouldn’t believe in any of it until it fixed things at home.”
“For the next two years my mom went to church faithfully, and brought me and my brother along. I had fun in my class and had made friends, but I really wanted my Dad to come. He wouldn’t.
“Christmas of that second year my brother and I were in the church play. My mother had us pray and pray that Dad would come. I had my doubts, but prayed to please my mom. He night before the play, my dad decided to come.
“During the short message our pastor shared, my dad, to quote him: ‘Finally swallowed my foolish pride and gave myself over to the Savior’s loving call.’ And I have to say that day changed our lives.
“My Dad became interested in me as a person, my parents didn’t fight all the time, and my dad cut back at work. Didn’t take long before Jesus convinced me too.
“I had just turned eleven when I asked my Dad a bunch of questions about Jesus and the Gospel. Right next to my bed that night I repented of my sin and invited Christ into my heart. It’s been a pretty sweet deal.”
Sarah took all the information in for a moment. So Jesus could heal families too. Maybe there was hope for hers after all.
“That’s a beautiful story,
“Well, sometimes I have to admit it gets a little overwhelming. Sometimes I need a little space. I know my dad’s still trying to make up for lost time, but I’m really ok with it. I’m not that little boy without a daddy anymore.”
Sarah understood about needing to get away from your parents- but not because they showed too much love. She couldn’t fathom such a thing.
They sat in comfortable silence for the remainder of the flight. Since there were no stops this time, their final goodbye would be at the exit of the plane.
Sarah found it hard thinking of parting ways. She’d just met the Williams men, but felt they were already more like family than anyone she’d known. Saying goodbye wouldn’t be easy, even though she’d see
Chapter Nineteen
When they finally arrived at the North doors, they both laughed.
“Well that was an adventure.” Monica said. “Whew! I wasn’t sure we’d make it out of there alive.”
“Yeah,” Tim agreed. “We’re thankful to have so many young families, but as you can see, they tend to crowd the hallways. I guess it’s a good problem to have though.”
“Makes me thankful I don’t have children that young anymore.” Monica sighed, then realized what it must have sounded like coming from her. She quickly tried to cover. “I didn’t mean that I’m thankful my daughter is gone, I just meant that…”
Tim stopped her by putting his hand on her arm. “It’s fine, Monica. I know what you meant.” His voice was comforting, gentle, his touch warm. He let his hand linger a while longer, then pulled away.
An uncomfortable silence followed, Monica lost in thought about Sarah, Tim watching for the Lepleys. Finally they arrived, laughing and calling out greetings to people across the expansive lobby.
“What are you in the mood for, kids?” Hank asked. “Mexican, Italian, Chinese…?”
“I’m game for anything.” Monica said. “Just as long as I don’t have to cook.” She laughed.
Joyce Lepley nodded. “Me too. I take Sundays off, and I mean off. I don’t lift a finger in the kitchen, not even to load the dishwasher. Well, starting after church, of course. Hank here wouldn’t pay a lick of attention if he didn’t get a decent breakfast.”
Hank scratched his chin. “Not sure when that started,” he mused. “But she’s a sneaky one. Got me doin’ woman’s work on Sunday, of all things.” He squeezed Joyce by the shoulders.
“Well I’m in the mood for Mexican.” Tim announced. “I haven’t had it for at least a month, and guacamole sounds so good right now.”
“Mexican it is then.” Hank said and led the way to the parking lot.
Tim stopped Monica. “Would you ride with me please? I need to talk with you.” His look was imploring, serious. It made Monica uncomfortable. She hoped he wasn’t going to ask her out. She wasn’t ready for that yet. Maybe she never would be.
She didn’t want to be alone with Tim. It was just inviting her foot to her mouth again. Why did he make her so nervous? Was it because he was such a great Christian, or because of her growing attraction to him?
“I suppose that would be alright. Joyce,” Monica called out. “I’ll be riding with Tim.”
“Sure, Honey. We’ll see you there.” Joyce gave her a knowing look and winked. Monica groaned inwardly. The last thing she needed was for Joyce to decide to play matchmaker.
*******************
Once seated in Tim’s very new, very nice car Monica buckled her seat belt and straightened her skirt.
“Monica,” Tim said as he turned toward her. “Please don’t feel like you have to explain or justify everything you say. A part of the recovery process is to recognize the past for what it is, ask forgiveness if necessary, and then forgive yourself. Until you can do that, you’re at a high risk of using again.”
Monica was shocked. This was definitely not a request for a date. “Forgive myself?” Monica asked. “I don’t think I can. I don’t deserve to be forgiven. Some days I think everyone would be better off if I just crawled in a hole somewhere and died. I’ll never get over what I did.”
Tim sighed. “I thought the same thing. I don’t expect it to happen overnight. Just be open to letting God heal you. Accept His love and remember that no one deserves it. Remember my story too. I didn’t think I’d ever forgive myself either.” He paused, weighing his words carefully, then forged ahead.
“But eventually I got tired of feeling sorry for myself, of letting other people pity me under the guise of giving comfort, and decided I wasn’t going to let Satan dangle the past in front of my nose any more. You have to move on at some point, or God can’t use you.” Tim started the car, not waiting for a response.
Monica silently fumed. Who did he think he was? Feeling sorry for herself? How dare he imply he could even begin to understand what she’d done! His past had been a child’s innocent mistake. She had willingly allowed, even condoned what her past contained.
He would never understand. How could she have found him attractive? Right now he was nothing but irritating and repulsive. Monica crossed her arms and offered Tim a view of the back of her head while she stared out the window.
*************************
By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Monica had calmed enough to be civil. “Thank you for the ride.” She said before walking off. She knew she looked childish but she didn’t want to risk saying any more than that. She would put on a good face for the Lepleys, then go straight home.
The restaurant was nice, one Monica hadn’t been to before. It was definitely Mexican; from the brightly painted mural greeting patrons in the lobby, to the small table decorations with the Mexican flag as part the centerpiece. And the aromas wafting from the kitchen brought a watering to Monica’s mouth.
They were seated quickly, and secured the last available booth. The Lepleys sat on one side, and Monica reluctantly slid over to make room for Tim next to her. Though she would really prefer he stand. Or sit at the next table. She giggled quietly to herself at the thought.
When they were settled, the conversation shifted back to church and how everyone enjoyed the service. Monica relaxed a little, and helped herself to the chips and dip before placing her drink order of water with lemon.
Monica listened politely as the Lepleys recounted humorous tales of things the children had said and done in their class, but her mind wouldn’t let go of the conversation she’d had earlier with Tim. More like the conversation he had with me, she scoffed mentally.
Monica didn’t realize she had huffed out loud until Joyce asked for what must have been the second time if everything was alright. Monica’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, I’m fine.” She lied. “Just lost in thought is all. Sorry.”
The waiter returned to take their orders, then vanished with the flourish of a matador. Monica tried to stay interested in what the others were saying, but found herself analyzing everything Tim said, looking for hidden meaning or arrogance.
When the meal was over, Mrs. Lepley mentioned she’d love to have everyone over for coffee but had to pick up a friend from the airport in a few hours, and needed to rest.
Monica cringed as she anticipated what was coming next. “Tim,” Hank said. “Would it be too much trouble for you to take Monica home? We need to stop at the hardware store and get a few supplies for a little project I’m finishing up.”
Tim didn’t hesitate. “Of course not. I’d be glad to.”
Monica rolled her eyes and looked away. Did he want another shot at her? Wound her more deeply? Maybe he’d prepared a sermon he’d want her to listen to. She turned back in time to smile at the Lepleys and avoid them catching her expression. Joyce laid a hand on her arm as they walked out to the cars.
“We won’t be making it to church tonight, Dear. We’ve already made plans with the friend who’s flying in. Will you be alright? You’re more than welcome to stay with us again if you’re scared. Just have Tim bring you over any time after
Monica started. How much time did they think she would be spending with Tim today? Not any more than absolutely necessary if she could help it. “No, thanks. I’m sure everything’s fine now. Don’t worry about me.” She tried to keep her voice down so Tim wouldn’t overhear, but was unsuccessful.
“What happened? Is everything ok? How can I help?” he asked, concerned.
Monica restrained from saying he could take a long walk off a short pier, and instead said “Please don’t worry yourself, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.” She tried not to sound annoyed. “Ready to go?” Thankfully Tim got the hint and let it drop.
As they turned out of the parking lot, Tim informed Monica that he needed to stop and fill the gas tank before taking her home. He’d be going to play basketball with some guys after taking her home and was already low on gas.
“Fine.” Was all Monica said in reply. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to come along and watch. That’s all she needed; him expecting her to stroke his ego after he’d crushed hers earlier. So typical of a man, she thought to herself. Well, he wouldn’t be getting any flattery from her.
She nursed her wounded pride and made a mental list of things to do when she got home. Tim was going on and on about the guys he played ball with and how far some of them had come in their recovery. Monica didn’t want to hear it. His self-righteousness was making her nauseated. The food she’d just eaten suddenly didn’t sit so well in her stomach.