Scott’s physical presence somehow seemed magnified in the confines of Jess’s compact car, and she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear before backing out of the parking spot. Somehow sharing her car with him seemed to move their relationship to a new, more personal level.
The significance of the moment wasn’t lost on Scott, either. In the three and a half months since his release, his encounters with Jess had always been in public places where other people could see what they were doing and hear what they were saying. By contrast, the intimacy of her car gave them a degree of privacy they hadn’t had in almost four years, providing an opportunity to talk about things best discussed behind closed doors. Considering her almost palpable tension, Jess was keenly aware of that, he surmised. She was probably having not just second thoughts about her offer of a ride, but third and fourth thoughts. So he needed to put her at ease, assure her he wasn’t going to use the situation to introduce topics with which she was not yet comfortable.
“Nice car,” he said, deliberately adopting an even, conversational tone. “And it sure beats the bus. Thanks again for the lift.”
“No problem.” Her voice sounded strained, and she lapsed into silence until they reached the parking-lot exit. “Which way?”
“Left. Then left again at the first light. There’s a grocery store a few blocks down. That’s where I need to stop.”
She turned to him in surprise. “You’re going grocery shopping?”
He smiled. “No. I just need to pick up a couple of things for someone.”
As they drove the short distance, Scott purposely kept the conversation light. And by the time they pulled into the lot a few minutes later, she seemed to have relaxed slightly.
“Do you want to come in?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ll wait.”
“Okay. I’ll only be a few minutes.” He stepped out of the car, then leaned back down. “But lock the doors. This isn’t the best part of town.”
“I work down here, remember?” she reminded him wryly.
“I’ll bet you never wander more than a block or two from the garden.”
She conceded the point with a nod. “True.”
“Good. Keep it that way, okay?” When her eyes widened in surprise, he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Some old habits die hard, I guess. I’ll be right back.” He locked the door before pushing it closed.
Jess watched him until he disappeared inside the building, then slowly exhaled. She needed a few minute to decompress, to figure out what had happened back in the parking lot at the botanical garden. Because she’d certainly had no intention of offering Scott a ride. Not even once, let alone twice. Yet she hadn’t taken him up on the out he’d offered. Why? There was no logical explanation for her behavior—except maybe that she was off balance because of all the strange things that had happened today, she reasoned, ticking them off in her mind.
First, Scott’s invitation to stop at the café had come out of the blue. Given her reservations about merely exchanging a few words in passing, her acceptance made no sense.
Second, the unexpected eruption of intense longing in response to his comment about coffee had left her reeling. Despite the other problems in their marriage, the attraction between them had never diminished, she recalled, her mouth suddenly going dry. At least in that one respect, their marriage had been solid. But how could he still produce that kind of effect in her with just one intimate look and two simple words, when she’d spent the past four years hating him? That made even less sense.
Third, his abrupt ending to their impromptu coffee klatch had disconcerted her. Especially since he’d gone out of his way to look her up, making it clear that he wanted to talk with her, spend time with her. The fact that he’d cut their conversation short didn’t make sense, either.
And finally, her impulsive offer of a lift had especially not made sense.
Then again, not much in her life had made sense these past few weeks, she acknowledged with a sigh. Feelings she thought she’d sorted out long ago had bubbled to the surface. Especially her feelings about Scott. With each encounter, she became less able to sustain the hate that her father, particularly, still harbored—and encouraged. She understood her parents’ feelings, of course. Had shared them until recently. In fact, in many ways hate made life easier. Fix the blame, condemn and walk away unblemished. It was much neater than sorting through messy shades of gray. But in reality, most situations just weren’t that simple. Particularly this one, Jess was beginning to realize.
She let her head drop back and wearily closed her eyes. Since Elizabeth’s death, fatigue had been her constant companion. Hate might make life easier by dulling the pain of grief, but maintaining such a draining and nonproductive emotion took a lot of energy. Especially now. It had been much easier to despise Scott when he was far removed and locked behind bars. It was a whole lot harder when he stood inches away and she saw nothing but kindness reflected in his eyes. Her resolve to keep him at arm’s length was definitely wavering, she acknowledged. But was it because giving Scott a hearing was the right thing to do, as Mark had suggested—or because she was simply too tired to fight his clear, if unspoken, determination to once more be a part of her life?
Jess didn’t know. And there was no one she could turn to for advice. Her parents were too biased against Scott to view the situation impartially. Mark was too much of an advocate on the other side. Which left her stuck in the middle. And directionless.
There was a time, of course, when she could have turned to Someone else for guidance, she reflected sadly. But that had been years ago, when God’s presence had been a real part of her life. The connection between them had been broken long ago, and restoring it seemed an impossible task at this point. She didn’t even know where to start. And until she did, she was on her own, with nothing to guide her but her instincts. Which she didn’t have a whole lot of faith in, considering where they had led her today, she acknowledged ruefully.
A sudden knock on the passenger window brought her abruptly back to reality, and her head snapped up. She reached to unlock the door for Scott, leaning over even farther to push it open when she saw that he was juggling a small bakery box and a bouquet of flowers.
“Sorry. Were you sleeping?” he asked as he slid inside.
His shirt was damp, and she wondered how long he’d stood in the rain debating whether or not to disturb her. “No. Just resting.”
“Long week?”
“Busy,” she amended.
He gazed at her, noting that the shadows under her eyes seemed even deeper than when he’d first seen her weeks before. “You look tired, Jess,” he said gently. “Are you sleeping okay?”
She gave him a startled look, and her eyes shuttered slightly. Too personal, Scott chided himself. Back off. “Sorry. None of my business.”
She reached forward and turned on the motor, ignoring his comment. “Pretty flowers,” she said as she looked over her shoulder and began backing out of the parking space.
“Yeah. I think she’ll like them.”
Jess’s foot slipped off the brake and she almost ran into the car next to her.
“Careful!” he warned in alarm. “You’re pretty close on this side. It’s a tight spot. Just ease back and I’ll let you know when you’re clear.”
Jess forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She didn’t speak again until she was safely heading for the exit, and then she chose her words carefully, fishing but trying not to be obvious about it. “Looks like you’re going to a party,” she remarked, nodding toward the box in which a small cake was revealed beneath a clear window.
“Hardly. The cake and flowers are for an old woman in my apartment building. Take a right,” he instructed as she reached the exit, then waited until she was safely in traffic before continuing. “I found her crying this morning on the stoop. It’s her birthday, and apparently there’s no one left who remembers. Her husband died years ago, and she hasn’t heard from her son in a long time. So I thought I’d surprise her with flowers and share a piece of cake with her. It’s not much, and it won’t make up for her being alone, but maybe it will brighten her day for a few minutes at least. Take a left.”
Jess did as instructed, still processing the information Scott had just relayed. Though his tone had been low-key and matter-of-fact, his kindness was anything but, she conceded. He’d gone out of his way to remember a lonely old woman’s birthday, spending money he obviously couldn’t spare to give her a few moments of happiness. To let her know that someone cared.
Jess wasn’t exactly surprised by Scott’s thoughtfulness and generosity. He had always lavished gifts on her and Elizabeth—especially as the demands of his job left him unable to give them what they really wanted: his time. But his gifts had been well within their budget, given out of their excess. This gesture, on the other hand, was a gift out of his need. A living illustration of the widow’s mite, Jess realized, deeply touched. Even more remarkable, it was for a woman who was practically a stranger, whose life had no connection to his beyond simple human compassion.
“This is it, the red one,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
Jess hadn’t been paying much attention to her surroundings during the short drive to his apartment, but now she took a good look as she pulled up to the curb. And that’s when she realized just how deep Scott’s need was. The neighborhood he called home was not one she would feel comfortable in at high noon, let alone after dark. There was an abandoned building on the corner, and the apartments were housed in four-family flats that looked as if they’d been built at the turn of the century—and hadn’t been updated since. Litter was strewn about on an abandoned lot across the street, and the lawn of the redbrick flat Scott occupied had more bare patches than grass. “Seedy” was the best way to describe the setting. “Dangerous” was a close second.
Jess stared at the neighborhood, appalled. This wasn’t Scott. Not the Scott she’d married, whose wants were simple but who worked hard to provide his family with a decent standard of living. And certainly not the Scott who’d gone to prison, who had valued designer jeans and fine wines. Dear God, how could he live in these conditions? She turned to him in dismay, speechless, her shock clearly reflected in her eyes.
As their gazes met, Scott was instantly sorry he’d taken Jess up on her offer of a ride. The opportunity to spend additional time in her company—at her request—had simply been too tempting to refuse. But he should have anticipated her reaction. Should have known that it would be very similar to Karen’s. His sister was still on him about the apartment, urging him to find other lodging. Offering to send him money. But as he kept telling her, it was good enough for now. In time, when he could afford it, he’d move. Until then, he’d sit tight and make the best of it. But Jess didn’t need to hang around in a place like this, he decided, reaching for the door.
“Thanks again for the lift. And have a great time in Texas.” He had already opened the door when her voice stopped him.
“Scott, wait. I…I didn’t know that you…this is…” She glanced again at the shabby surroundings and her voice died.
“Serviceable,” he supplied evenly.
“Awful,” she corrected him vehemently, the revulsion in her eyes clear.
“It beats a cell, Jess,” he said quietly.
The comment jolted her, and she stared at him in stunned silence as their gazes connected and held. For the first time she had a sense at some primal level of the horror of incarceration. Of being in a place where you had no control over your existence, where you were told what to do and when to do it, where doors clanged shut behind you every night, leaving you to face your private demons alone in the darkness of a cold, sterile cell. Suddenly she understood how, in light of that existence, this squalid apartment would be an improvement. And all at once, a place in her heart that had long been numb and lifeless began to stir.
Her throat constricted with emotion and she swallowed with difficulty. “Scott, I had no idea. I’m…” She stopped abruptly, realizing in confusion that she’d almost said, “I’m sorry.” But why was she sorry? Hadn’t she believed all along that no punishment was too severe for what he’d done to Elizabeth?
Scott saw the parade of emotions pass across Jess’s eyes. Compassion. Sympathy. Confusion. But no coldness. Or hate. Not this time. Which was progress as far as he was concerned. And so was her shock at his living conditions, he suddenly realized. After all, if she didn’t have some feelings for him, she wouldn’t care where he lived—would she?
“It’s okay, Jess,” he said with a gentle smile, his heart suddenly lighter. “I’m fine here. Really. I’m free. And I’m a person again, not a number. That makes any place seem like a palace. Trust me.”
Jess didn’t trust anything at the moment. Particularly her emotions. She had a sudden, desperate need to get away from here, to think this through alone, with no distractions. Especially the one sitting next to her.
“I have to go,” she said in a choked voice, struggling to hold her tattered emotions together.
He studied her for a moment, his gaze penetrating and probing, and then he nodded. “I understand.” Without further delay, he opened the door and stepped outside. “Thanks again, Jess. Take care.”
She had no voice left to respond. She simply put the car in gear and drove away as quickly as she could, her stomach churning. But as she turned the corner, she couldn’t resist the urge to look back. Scott was still standing where she had left him, watching her car disappear, holding the cake and flowers that would brighten an old woman’s day. A ragged sob rose in her throat, and she had to blink rapidly to clear the sudden tears that blurred her vision. This was not the outcome she had expected from her encounter with Scott. Instead of helping her sort through her emotions, it had left her more confused than ever—and certain of only two things.
First, Scott did understand. Far too much. She’d seen it in his eyes. And that disturbed her greatly.
But even more disturbing was the fact that it had taken every ounce of her willpower to drive away and leave him alone in that dismal place.
“Now, that’s what I call the life of Riley.”
At her brother’s teasing voice, Jess’s eyes flew open. “Mark! You made it!” she said in delight, scrambling to her feet to throw her arms around him.
He returned the bear hug, then, still holding her hands, backed off slightly to look her over. “Well, I have to say the Texas sun seems to be good for you.”
“Lying around on a beach being lazy in a gorgeous place like Padre Island would be good for anyone. How long can you stay?”
“Just until Wednesday. I barely got away as it is. It was touch and go up until the last minute.”
Jess wrinkled her nose. “Three days isn’t long enough to relax.”
“Tell that to my boss.”
“You work too hard, Mark.”
“I like what I do.”
“You need time for other things.”
“Such as?”
“Family.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he said, spreading out a towel on the sand, then flopping down. “I always make it for at least a couple days of the annual family vacation. Speaking of which—remember all those trips we took in the camper?” he said with a chuckle.
“And all the times we put it up in the rain,” she replied, smiling ruefully as she sat on her towel and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“Yeah. Listen, don’t tell Dad, but I much prefer the condo,” Mark admitted with a grin as he adjusted his sunglasses.
“I agree. Anyway, don’t try to change the subject. You need time in your life for other things beside work.”
“Like what?”
“A wife might be nice.”
“There’s plenty of time,” he said nonchalantly. “Besides, I didn’t come out here to talk about me. I want to hear all about you. And Scott. Mom doesn’t seem to know anything, and you aren’t exactly forthcoming on the phone.”
Jess shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”
He studied her for a moment, then shook his head. “Sorry. Don’t buy it. We lived in the same house for more than twenty years. I can read you like a book.”
“Baloney,” she retorted, stretching out on the towel.
“Uh-uh,” he said, leaning over to tickle the bottom of her foot. “You aren’t getting off that easily.”
“Stop that!” she said, swatting at him.
“Nope. Not till I get the truth.”
She sat back up and crossed her legs. “How old did you say you were?” she demanded, trying to look stern.
“Thirty-one. Going on ten,” he replied with an impudent grin.
“I believe it.”
“So let’s have the scoop on Scott. Have you taken my advice yet?”
“What makes you think I will?” she hedged.
“You’ll bow to my superior wisdom in time,” he said loftily, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his tone.
“You know, I think I’m beginning to understand why you’re not married,” she said sweetly, making a face at him.
“Hey! Let’s not get personal!”
“I agree. Let’s not.” She lay back down and settled her sunglasses on her nose.
He gave her a moment’s peace before trying a different tack. “Okay, fine. Have it your way. But how often do you get such a willing ear? Here I am, ready to put all my Listening 101 skills into action, and you’re shutting me out.”
She lifted her glasses and looked at him. “You aren’t going to give up, are you?”
“Nope.”
With a resigned sigh she sat up again. “So what do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Let’s not get too ambitious.”
“Okay, okay. At least tell me if you’ve talked with him.”
She eyed him warily. “First, a ground rule. This conversation stays between us. Agreed?”
“Sure.”
She took a deep breath. “Yes, I’ve talked to him. Not about anything too serious. But our paths have crossed on a number of occasions—which Mom and Dad do not know about, by the way—and we’ve exchanged a few words. I also gave him a ride once. Now you have the whole story.”
“How is he?”
Jess frowned. “He looks older. But he seems to have found…I don’t know how to describe it, exactly. An inner peace, maybe. I do know that he’s close friends with a local minister who’s also one of the prison chaplains. He seems to have found a lot of comfort in his faith.”
Mark’s face registered surprise. “Really? I never thought Scott was all that religious. I mean, I know he went to church and lived a good life, but I never got the sense that he had a deep spiritual life.”
“He seems to now.”
“That’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Mark reflected. “In the midst of tragedy you lost God, and Scott found Him. Strange how life works. So how do you feel about this whole situation?”
“Honestly? Scared.”
“I think that’s probably normal.”
Jess gazed out over the shimmering blue water. “I’m not sure I know what that word means anymore,” she said wearily.
“I can tell you what it doesn’t mean,” Mark replied. “It doesn’t mean keeping your feelings bottled inside. It doesn’t mean ignoring issues. It doesn’t mean pretending that everything’s all right when it’s not.”
“You think that’s what I’ve been doing?”
“I’d put money on it. How are you feeling about Scott these days?”
“Confused.”
“Do you still hate him?”
“I keep trying to. But it…it gets harder and harder. Yet it seems somehow wrong to have anything to do with him. As if I’m…I don’t know…dishonoring the memory of Elizabeth in some way.”
“Maybe the best way to honor her memory is with joy and forgiveness, not bitterness and hate,” Mark said quietly. “Scott loved her, Jess. Yet because of him, she died. He has to live with that every day of his life. Think of the pain and suffering he’s already endured. What will it serve to add to that?”
“But I can’t forget what happened, Mark.”
“We don’t have to forget in order to forgive.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“Hardly. But you’ll find some good guidelines in that Bible peeking out of your beach bag. Try Ephesians, chapter four, verses thirty-one and thirty-two.”
A flush rose on her cheeks, and she reached over and tucked the Bible out of sight. “I haven’t opened it in years. I’m not even sure why I brought it with me,” she said dismissively.
“Personally, I think it was a good idea. Try Colossians, too. Chapter three, verses twelve through fourteen.”
She stared at him. “Since when have you become such a Bible scholar?”
He shrugged. “Let’s just say that I’ve been on my own journey. And I want you to know that…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, along the way I’ve been praying for you and Scott.”
Her throat constricted with emotion at this rare display of what her brother usually called “mushy stuff.”
“Thanks, Mark.”
“Hey, what are brothers for?” he said with a grin as he stretched out on his towel, once more his irreverent self. “Call me for advice anytime.”
“Let all bitterness, and wrath, and indignation, and clamor, and reviling, be removed from you, along with all malice. On the contrary, be kind to one another, and merciful, generously forgiving one another, as also God in Christ has generously forgiven you.”
Jess read the words twice, then turned to the second passage her brother had suggested.
“Put on therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, a heart of mercy, kindness, humility, meekness, patience. Bear with one another and forgive one another, if anyone has a grievance against any other; even as the Lord has forgiven you, so also do you forgive. But above all these things have love, which is the bond of perfection.”
Slowly she closed the book and lay back on her pillow. She’d spoken truthfully to Mark when she’d said she had no idea why she’d brought her Bible on vacation. Especially since she hadn’t opened it in almost four years. It had been a last-minute addition to her luggage, and she hadn’t looked at it all week. But something had compelled her to include it.
No, that wasn’t entirely true, she acknowledged. It wasn’t something, but someone. Namely, Scott. He seemed to have found his way through the labyrinth of pain and grief of the past few years far better than she had. She could see reflected in his eyes the very things her soul desperately longed for. Acceptance of what life had dealt him. Understanding that gave clarity to chaos. A clear and confident sense of direction and destination. A perspective that tempered sadness with trust. He was clearly a man who had made his peace with himself and with his God and, in so doing, had found hope for tomorrow. And the Bible had apparently played a key role in his journey. Because that’s where Scott seemed to go for comfort and guidance.
But he didn’t just read the Bible. He clearly had an ongoing dialogue with the Lord, Jess acknowledged. His words to God in the cemetery had been a relaxed conversation rather than a stilted, formal prayer, suggesting that he was accustomed to speaking to the Lord on a very personal level. Even when Jess had considered her faith to be at its strongest, she’d never reached the spiritual depth, the personal relationship with God, that Scott now seemed to enjoy.
Because of that relationship, she had a feeling that although he was probably as lonely as she was in many ways, he never felt truly alone. And she envied him that. Even the love of her parents hadn’t been able to assuage the terrible, desolate sense of aloneness that had darkened her days for the past four years. Something was missing from her life, something more than her beloved Elizabeth or the husband she had once adored. The loss was even more profound than that, and she felt it at the very depths of her soul. It was a sense of isolation—and separation—from the one unchanging reality of life. From God.
Her throat constricted with emotion, and Jess closed her eyes. Mark had been right earlier in the day when he’d noted the irony that Scott, the less “religious” of the two, had found his way out of the maze of despair through faith, while Jess stumbled around in darkness, her bitterness toward God and her husband twisting her heart with a malignant anger. Scott had resolved his issues, while Jess’s had simply festered. And he’d done it with the help of the God Jess had turned her back on. The God she had railed against in pain and anguish for taking her beloved daughter. The God she had abandoned as uncaring and unfair. Yet in his need, Scott had found in that very same God a loving, forgiving Father who stretched out His hand to those who called upon Him for help.
Jess knew that her rejection of the Lord had been motivated by anger and an inability to comprehend how a good and loving God could allow such tragic events to occur. She’d tortured herself over and over again asking “why?” and seeking answers where there were none. But as was slowly becoming clear to her, discerning the purposes of the Lord was a task far beyond the limited powers of the human intellect. After all, the Lord never called on us to understand His ways—just to accept them. And to trust in His abiding love.
That’s what Scott had done. What Jess needed to do. Because she now realized that until she, too, found her way back to the Lord, she would never achieve the peace, and the healing, that Scott had found.
At the same time, she knew that it wouldn’t be easy. Because the Bible verses Mark had recommended made it clear that though God was always ready to forgive us, He expected us to follow His example. Meaning that if Jess truly wanted to find her way back to the Lord, she needed to forgive, as well. And she would need a lot of help with that, she acknowledged. She needed God. But how did one begin to rebuild a relationship with the Almighty?
Jess turned back to the Bible and idly let it fall open. The words from James that met her eyes provided the answer to her question so clearly that for a moment she simply sat there in stunned silence.
“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.”
It sounded so easy, she thought. And perhaps it was. Perhaps it was as simple as what Scott had done in the cemetery, when he’d simply talked with the Lord. It was certainly worth a try. Jess drew in a steadying breath, then let her eyelids drift closed. And though she felt as tentative and awkward as a baby taking its first steps, she began to speak haltingly in the silence of her heart.
Dear Lord, I know that I’ve been away from You for…well, for too long. I don’t know how to find my way back…only that I need to, because my soul is hungry for the peace that I see in Scott’s eyes, a peace that I now know only comes from You. He’s changed so much, Lord. For the better. And I believe with all my heart that it’s because he found his way back to You. I’d like to do the same. I ask for Your help and Your grace, and for Your loving hand to guide me in right paths as I begin this journey. Most of all, I ask Your forgiveness for turning away from You in bitterness and anger. And I ask You to help me find in my heart the forgiveness that You so generously offer to all who seek it from You—and without which true healing can never occur.
When she finished her prayer, Jess drew a long, shaky breath. She knew that there was much more she could say. More that she could confess. More that she could ask. But this was a start.
Jess hadn’t expected any immediate guidance. And none was forthcoming. Yet she no longer felt quite so alone. Because although the Lord’s voice was quiet at the moment, she sensed that He was listening.
And she would do the same.