Ruthie piled her small amount of luggage on the porch so she could lock the door behind her. She gave the wood a pat, one last expression of affection. She’d arranged to rent her house for the next two years to a young schoolteacher who was a member of the church. The arrangement benefited both of them. The schoolteacher could save most of her money for a future down payment on a house of her own. And Ruthie would know that her home was well looked after in her absence. Assuming she came back at the end of the two years.
Rev. Carson had taken her departure with good grace, although he’d implored her to make a list of all the things she did and how she did them. A pity, really, that she couldn’t stay and work with him. He seemed like the kind of preacher who understood both the value and complicated nature of a church secretary’s job.
Ruthie locked the door and put the key under a flowerpot, as she’d promised her new tenant. “Good-bye, house.” It was silly, she supposed, to actually talk to her home, but after all these years a proper farewell seemed important.
“Why are you talking to your house?”
Ruthie jumped. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard her sister coming up the sidewalk.
“Just saying good-bye.”
“That’s more consideration than you were going to show me.” Esther’s face was pinched into lines of disapproval. “I didn’t think there was anything more for us to say.”
Ruthie frowned. “Why are you here?”
“I’m driving you to the airport.”
“You don’t have to. I called a cab.”
Esther pursed her lips. “Yes, I think I do. You can use my cell phone to cancel the cab.”
Ruthie would rather have been boiled in oil than accept Esther’s offer, but she also couldn’t bring herself to say no.
“How did you know I was leaving?”
“I happened to stop by the church this morning. Apparently it never occurred to Rev. Carson that you wouldn’t tell your own sister you were on your way to Africa for two years.”
“You don’t need to drive me to the airport.”
“No, I don’t. But I’m going to.”
“All right.” Ruthie knew better than to argue with Esther when she used that tone. Besides, now that she was leaving, what could it hurt? She hoisted her duffel bag over one shoulder and grabbed her tote with her free hand.
“That’s all you’re taking?” Esther frowned in disapproval.
“We’re limited as to what we can bring.”
“I guess you won’t need much out there in the jungle.”
Ruthie bit back a laugh. “I’m hardly going to the jungle, Esther. I’ll be in a village, like I was before, but it’s not far from a small city. No electricity, but that’s why I’m bringing solar-powered flashlights.” Amazing how an ordinary ten-dollar household object, taken for granted in America, could transform life in the place she was going.
“Do they have running water?”
“Yes, Esther. And I’ve had all my shots. Remember, I’ve done this before.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Not really.” Ruthie’s eyes grew misty. “Most of the time, it seems like yesterday.”
“Yes, well, you’re not as young as you used to be.” And then deciding, apparently, not to pursue the argument, she waved Ruthie toward the car as if she were a recalcitrant child. “Come on. You don’t want to miss your plane.”
The hour-and-a-half drive to Nashville both sped by and dragged on. Esther’s Jaguar with its leather interior was comfortable, its low-slung engine eating up the miles with ease. But with only the two of them inside, Ruthie struggled to find topics of conversation. Other than family dinners or other group gatherings, she still hadn’t seen Frank alone. Hadn’t wanted to, of course, but perhaps she should have tried to put some closure on their relationship. Closure especially on the strange and twisted last few months. Acquiring her visa and her assignment in Namibia with the church-based volunteer agency had taken far longer than she’d expected, in part due to her age.
“How long will you be gone?” Esther asked, breaking the silence between them.
“I signed on for two years. But I might stay longer.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this just to spite me,” Esther snapped, clearly not able to control her temper any longer. “I’m sorry if you think I used you, but it was for a good purpose, don’t you think? I assume you didn’t want Frank to die either? And you were both being so stubborn—”
“We were being individuals, Esther. Grownups with minds of our own and decisions that were ours to make.”
“He was being ridiculous. He had to have that surgery.”
“And you made sure he did, no matter what it cost.”
“We’ve already been over this.” Esther kept her eyes fixed on the highway.
Ruthie sighed. Why was she even trying to get her sister to see things from her point of view? If she needed any more confirmation that she was doing the right thing, then this conversation did the trick.
“Yes, we have been over this. And neither of us will ever be able to understand the other.” She kept her gaze glued to the scenery out the passenger side window. “Still, you don’t need to go all the way to Africa to punish me.” Was that regret she heard in her sister’s voice? Ruthie fought the urge to put her head in her hands and weep.
“Believe it or not, Esther, my decision has nothing to do with you and very little to do with Frank.”
“You’re too old to be gallivanting off like this. What if you get sick?”
“They have hospitals in Africa too. Angelina Jolie had a baby there and lived to tell about it.”
“It’s hardly the same thing.”
“Well, I’m not likely to have any babies at my age.”
Esther pounded the steering wheel with the palm of one hand. “There’s no reasoning with you. Honestly. Well, if you want to throw your life away …”
“I already did.”
“Excuse me?”
“I already threw my life away. I’ve been throwing it away every day for the last thirty years.”
“Ruthie—”
“Does the truth shock you? It does me too. But your charade taught me something, Esther, that nothing else ever has.”
“It did?” She sounded as if she didn’t know whether to be frightened or pleased.
“I spent my life waiting for Frank to come for me.” She held up a hand to stop Esther from speaking. “I did. It’s true, and I’m ashamed of it. But when he finally did act on his feelings for me, I discovered a very important truth.”
“Which was?”
“That unrequited love is like a drug. You can get addicted to it.” As she spoke the words, she felt a great weight lifting off her shoulders. The very thing she’d always thought had anchored her to Sweetgum had turned out to be a millstone instead.
“That sounds very romantic,” Esther said with derision. “I’d simply have called it hanging about, waiting to see if my sister’s marriage broke up.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right.”
Except when you’re wrong, Ruthie thought, but she knew better than to say it out loud. She didn’t want to be dumped on the side of Interstate 65 and have to hitchhike her way to the Nashville airport.
“Well, in any event, if I’ve thrown my life away, I’m retrieving what’s left of it.” All those years Ruthie thought she’d been faithful to her family and to her church, indeed to God, serving and loving and trying to bury the longings of her heart. Yes, she thought she’d been faithful. As it turned out, she’d just been scared.
“Will you write?” Esther asked. They were nearing the southern outskirts of Nashville now. Only another twenty minutes or so and they’d be at the airport.
“Yes. And e-mail.”
“I don’t do the e-mail.” Esther sniffed.
“Then I’ll write to you and e-mail Alex.”
“I thought he wasn’t speaking to you.”
“Maybe he will when there’s an ocean between me and his father.” For the first time since they’d left Sweetgum, Ruthie felt tears threaten. “He’s the son I never had, Esther. I couldn’t stand it if I lost him.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
Esther didn’t answer. Just glanced over at her, that infamous eyebrow arched high as a kite.
“Okay, okay. You won’t allow it. Enough said.”
“Do you need to make any stops before we get to the airport?”
“No. I’m good.”
“I’ll miss you, Ruthie.” Esther’s words came out of nowhere, as unexpected as they were precious.
Now tears choked Ruthie’s throat and stung her eyes in earnest. “I’ll miss you too, Esther.”
It was the closest Ruthie had ever felt to her sister. Which was at once the happiest and the saddest thing she could think of.
Merry peeked around the corner of the bathroom door, careful not to alert the girls to her presence.
“That color has got to go,” Courtney was saying as she brushed through Hannah’s ratty hair. “Maybe my mom will take us to the salon later. Some highlights would look really good.” She pulled Hannah’s hair away from her face. “I’m thinking a dark brown base with some caramel strands.”
With her face free of the usual heavy makeup, Hannah finally looked her age. “I don’t know—”
“And maybe we can stop at the drugstore and pick up some new makeup. Neutral colors. A smoky eye,” Courtney said, sounding like one of those makeover shows on television, “but in a soft gray or brown. Not all that black.”
Merry thought Hannah might object, but the curve of her lip, which so often turned upward to express her surly displeasure, remained relaxed and natural. “That would be great. But not until I can pay your mom back,” Hannah said.
Courtney paused in the midst of combing through Hannah’s hair. “Um, I was thinking I could pay for it, actually.”
Merry watched as the girls’ eyes met in the mirror.
“I think I owe you one,” Courtney said. “A complete makeover. And then we can call it even.”
Please, God, Merry prayed. Soften Hannah’s heart the way you’ve softened mine.
Hannah reached up to take the comb from Courtney’s hand. “Okay. I guess.” A grudging agreement, Merry thought, but an agreement nonetheless. She quietly turned around and headed back down the hallway. She’d learned enough over the last few months to know when to leave a miracle alone.
Merry rarely went to Jeff’s law office. On the few occasions that she did, he was generally distracted and impatient. She’d always known he didn’t multitask well, and mixing family with his law practice invariably ended with Merry feeling as if she’d drawn the short straw.
Today, though, she needed Jeff as her attorney, not as her husband. He’d been up and gone by the time she’d awakened, as he had been almost every day since he’d told her about the bankruptcy, so they hadn’t had a chance to talk about Hannah. Merry had insisted that the girl call her mother to let her know where she was, but there’d been no answer at the trailer. Since it was Saturday, they didn’t have to worry about school. But at some point, someone was going to notice that Hannah wasn’t where she was supposed to be.
“Morning, Mitzi,” Merry greeted Jeff’s new paralegal when she entered the storefront office on the Sweetgum town square. She searched the young woman’s eyes, wondering if Jeff had told her about their financial situation. The office appeared the same as always—warm but slightly musty, the walls of the reception area lined with law books, their titles etched on their spines in gold lettering.
“Good morning, Mrs. McGavin. I’ll tell your husband you’re here.” Mitzi was pleasant but not chatty. If she knew the state of Jeff’s business finances, she certainly wasn’t giving anything away. She rose from behind the desk and disappeared down the hallway behind her work area.
Merry waited in the front office for several long moments, her gaze flicking over the titles of the books—all with words like torts and claims and penal code. They were symbols of a large part of Jeff’s life, a part that she could never fully share. She traced her fingers along the spines, wondering if she and Jeff would have grown apart if he’d been a dentist or an accountant. Probably, she admitted to herself with a frown. It wasn’t the law that was the problem with her marriage.
“You can go on back,” Mitzi said, reappearing right beside her. Merry jumped, a hand flying to her chest. “Sorry, Mrs. McGavin. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Again, her friendly tone revealed nothing but the most pleasant of demeanors. Suddenly Merry felt sorry for the young woman. Had Jeff given her any indication that she should polish up her résumé and start pounding what little pavement there was in Sweetgum?
“Thank you, Mitzi.” Merry made her way down the corridor to Jeff’s office. Over the years, she’d become accustomed to his working on Saturday mornings because it was often the only time many of his clients could make an appointment. While Frank Jackson represented the well-heeled citizens of Sweetgum, Jeff tended to take on the working men and women who didn’t have the freedom to keep weekday appointments without their wages being docked. Jeff’s commitment to fair representation of all of Sweetgum’s citizens was one of the things she’d always loved about him. She just hadn’t thought through to the financial consequences of taking the less wealthy folks in town for clients.
She peeked around his office door. “Hi, honey.”
“Hello.” He’d been polite but distant since the day he’d broken the news about his bankruptcy to her. Most nights he’d fallen asleep on the couch instead of in the bed next to her, and when he did seek out a bed, he often slept in Jake’s lower bunk. Having him in bed next to her last night had been the exception rather than the rule. He said he wanted to give her room to be comfortable now that she was so pregnant, but Merry knew that her comfort wasn’t the only reason.
“Have you got a minute?”
He looked past her into the hallway. “Where are the kids?”
“Jake’s at a friend’s house, and Courtney’s watching Sarah.”
“Oh.”
She moved farther into his office, shutting the door behind her and taking a seat across from him. “I need your help.”
“My help?” Obviously that wasn’t what he’d been expecting her to say. So far she hadn’t confronted him about the bankruptcy, hadn’t demanded details that he didn’t seem to want to share.
“It’s about Hannah.”
As if on cue, his expression grew stormy. “Look, Merry—”
“I need your legal help.”
He paused. “Why?”
“I can’t let her go back home. Well, she can’t anyway because her mother took off. And I don’t want her going into foster care either. I can talk to Theda Farley. She’s the Family Services caseworker for the area. You remember her from church?”
“The new redhead who sings in the choir?”
“Yes.”
“So what do you need my help with?”
“I think Hannah’s going to need a guardian. Someone appointed by the court to make sure her best interests are served.” She took a deep breath. Swallowed. “I want you to ask a judge to make you that person.”
“Merry—”
“I know it’s terrible timing. But, Jeff—” She wouldn’t cry. If she did, then he’d just think she was being all hormonal and emotional. “She said her mother’s boyfriend touched her last night.”
Another shadow crossed his face, but this one was different. It was immediately followed by a look of grave concern. “Should we call the police?”
“No. From what I could get out of her, he just made a grab for her. She ran away before he could do much more.”
“How’d she get to that truck stop anyway?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to ask.”
They were both quiet for a long moment. “The thing is …” But she couldn’t finish her sentence. She wanted to say what she was thinking, but she wasn’t sure Jeff would understand.
“What’s the thing?”
“The thing is … all this stuff with Hannah, it put a lot of things in perspective.”
Jeff picked up a pen and started to tap it against the desk.
“Merry, just because you’ve brought a troubled teenager under our roof doesn’t mean we’re going to have a Hallmark moment. Our problems are still very real.”
“I know that.” She tried not to snap, but why couldn’t he understand what she was getting at? “We have a lot of things to sort out. But, Jeff …” She rubbed her belly and felt the baby stir beneath her hand. “We have so much going for us. And I don’t mean the house or the country club membership or anything like that.” She leaned forward, as least as much as her bulk would allow, and reached for his hand across the desk. Please let him meet me halfway, she prayed silently. “We’ve got the kids and our folks. We both have good educations and the ability to make a living, even if it doesn’t turn out to be a lavish one.” His hand stayed where it was, wrapped around the pen, but at least he’d stopped the drumming. “We have each other. Even if we’ve lost our way a little bit.”
“We’re going to have to start over, Merry.” His voice broke when he said her name, and he bit his lip to keep his emotions under control. Merry recognized the response for what it was, an attempt to keep his composure when he really needed to fall apart.
“If we work together, we can make it again,” she said. “Just like we did before.”
Finally he reached out and took her hand. His eyes were moist. “I feel like I’ve failed you. I know how much you love our house, your pretty things.”
“Shh.” Now that his hand was in hers, she knew that there was hope. And she’d felt hopeless for so long that just a glimmer of possibility was enough to restore her strength and courage. “It’s going to be all right.” She didn’t know how it would, but they’d work it out somehow. “At least we’ll be doing it together. I’d rather be poor than lonely, Jeff.”
In an instant he was on his feet and moving around the corner of the desk. “Merry, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.” But now his arms were around her—or at least as far around her as they could get these days—and she wasn’t fighting this battle by herself anymore.
“I wanted to tell you.” He tucked her head under his chin and pressed her close. “But every time I tried—Well, it never seemed like the right time.”
“This time, we’ll do some things differently,” she said. She leaned back so she could look into his eyes. “For example, I want to be kept apprised of how your practice is doing. If we need to put austerity measures into place, I want to be the first to know.”
“Okay. Deal.”
“And when Sarah starts kindergarten in the fall, I can come in and help out—typing, filing, whatever you and Mitzi need. The baby can come too.”
Jeff laughed. “I see.”
“Do you?” She shook him. Not hard because she wasn’t strong enough to shake him too much. Just enough to make sure he was listening. “I don’t want to be lonelier in my marriage than I was when I was single.” She ducked her head. “And if you ever decide you want out—”
“What?” The look he gave her was priceless. His face was the definition of incredulous.
Merry blushed. “I just know that it’s … easier … for men to walk away. And you’ve been under a lot of pressure—”
“Stop.” He put his fingers on her lips. “Do you really think I’d just leave you and the kids?”
“It happens, Jeff. And I know I’m not as young as I used to be.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. “And after this one makes an appearance … well, let’s just say my body will never be what it once was.”
“Merry, what’s really going on?” His gaze held hers, and she couldn’t look away. “I don’t think you believe I’m going to abandon you and the kids.”
She shook her head. “No. Of course not. I guess … well, I guess I just never realized how vulnerable I would feel. I don’t regret being a stay-at-home mom. Not for a minute. But I’m so dependent now, Jeff. Dependent on our marriage. On you.”
“And I haven’t been acting very worthy of your trust lately, have I?” Regret was written all over his face. “I’m sorry, Merry. More than you can know. And I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me about the pregnancy.”
“And I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me about the bankruptcy.”
Jeff smiled. “How about we pinkie swear not to hide stuff from each other anymore?”
And then she was in his arms again before they could lock their little fingers together like their children did when making a promise. “I’ll come clean if you will,” she said.
He looked into her eyes, and just like the first time he’d kissed her good night on her parents’ front porch, she thought her knees might buckle beneath her. “Merry McGavin, you are the silliest woman I ever met in my life.” He kissed her, full and warm. “And the most beautiful.” Another kiss. “And this is the last time we’re ever going to have this conversation because from now on we’re going to remember that we’re a team.”
“Okay.” The word came out slightly breathless, but between Jeff’s kiss and the baby taking up most of the room in her torso, she didn’t have a lot of oxygen at her command. “Now you need to get out of here so I can get to work.”
He patted her cheek.
“Hopefully by midafternoon. Definitely by suppertime.”
He winked at her. “I’d be home earlier, but I just acquired a new case, and I need to do a little research on family law and custody of surly, troubled teenagers.”
The smile that split her face was so broad it almost hurt.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Merry shut his office door behind her, called a cheery good-bye to Mitzi as she breezed through the front office, and headed for her minivan. She felt like Dorothy when she had learned, at long last, the true power of her ruby slippers. Like that fictional heroine, Merry realized with satisfaction that the power to go home again had been in her possession all along. She just had to figure out how to use it.