Chapter 31

I spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening meeting with Nat. We discussed the campaign and just about everything else. It was the everything else that got to me. An hour after I arrived, and a second can of soda later I let slip that Judson West had been offered a position in Denver.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Nat said. We were seated around her dining room table, nibbling crackers.

“It certainly surprised me,” I admitted.

“Of course it did.”

I eyed her. “What does that mean?”

“You don’t want to ask that.”

“I just did,” I insisted.

She raised her soda. “We’ve talked about your personal life a few times, haven’t we?”

“Yes.”

“You know that West is still in love with you, and if not in love, then infatuated.”

“I know that he still has interest, but I’ve done nothing to encourage it. Jerry and I are officially seeing each other.”

Nat chortled. “I didn’t know that could be done officially.” She paused, then looked me straight in the eye. “Sometimes you amaze me, Maddy. There you sit, smart, beautiful, driven, living life with purpose and intensity, yet you can be as dumb as a brick.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I just watched you assimilate a ton of information about spy cameras, broadcast distances and more, then ring up a police detective, read him the riot act, and then shift gears into discussions of the campaign, but for the life of you, you can’t see what you’re doing to those two men.”

“What I’m doing to them? Exactly what am I doing to them?”

“Stringing them along. You’re going out with Jerry, giving him hope for a future with you, but you won’t move out of the present. West is still in your orbit, hoping Jerry will tire of waiting. It sounds like he’s the one giving up on waiting.”

“You think he’s considering taking the Denver job to get my attention, is that it?”

“No, I think that he’s considering it so he can get away from you.”

I blinked. “That’s a little harsh.”

“No, you’re being a little sensitive. Your love life is your business, but right now you have two men who desire you and you’re willing to let them hang out there until you make up your mind.”

“I didn’t know relationship counseling was part of a campaign manager’s job.” I was being defensive. Her words pinched a nerve.

“Hey, I told you that you didn’t want to go down this path.”

She had warned me. “All right, what do you suggest?”

“Get off the dime, lady. Make a decision and stop stringing these poor guys along.”

“Some decisions shouldn’t be rushed.” I leaned back and crossed my arms. More defensiveness.

“Rushed?” She laughed. “At this rate, Maddy, you’ll be in a convalescent home gumming applesauce before you get around to choosing Jerry. And you know what? Jerry will be at the home with you, showering you with admiration and love.”

“How do you know that Jerry is the right one for me?”

“Oh, come on, Maddy, the man’s heart pumps gold for you. He’d eat glass if it would make you happy. Let me ask you something: can you picture yourself married to Judson West?”

There were moments when I had tried, but it never felt right. “No.”

“Good, a straight answer. What about Jerry? Can you see yourself married to him?”

I had imagined that many times as well, often against my will. “Yes, I can.”

“So you don’t want West to leave because you need a safety net. Let him go, Maddy.”

That hurt. “I don’t view him as a safety net.”

“So what then? You’re angry he didn’t tell you about Denver because you fear the loss of a good cop?”

“Now you’re being unfair.”

Nat raised the can of Diet Coke to her lips and said nothing. Her eyes, however, said enough.

She set the drink down. “Has Jerry been supportive of your run for congress?”

“Very supportive.”

“Don’t you realize how special that is? If you win the seat, you’re going to be spending a lot of time in D.C. He’s willing to let you go so that you can be happy; so that you can fulfill your dream—your heart’s desire. Listen, Maddy, there aren’t many men like that.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not,” I snapped. I cooled my tone. “No, it isn’t. He doesn’t share my faith. I’ve become a believer and he’s not.”

“Uh-huh. He’s hostile to Christianity?”

“No, I didn’t say that.”

“What does he believe?” Nat’s words had taken on an edge.

“I know he has doubts and questions.”

“Don’t you?”

There was a time when I could have dropped a couple of quick lies and moved on, but not now, not here, not with Nat who saw deeper into my being than anyone else. I was still so new in the faith, less than a year and a half, and every day I learned how ignorant I was. “I admit I don’t have all the answers.”

“So having questions doesn’t disqualify you as a believer.”

“No.”

The cracker nibbling had stopped and the soul rending had begun. “Maddy, I have seen you change. This faith of yours has altered you. When we first met, I thought, ‘Now here is a woman I can respect: sharp, strong, edgy.’ Then you gave your life to Christ or whatever you call it and I thought, ‘Well, there goes the edge; there goes all those qualities that make her wonderful.’ I was wrong. Some things in your life have softened, but only those things that needed it. I’ve watched you over the months, as a friend, as your campaign manager, and I have seen intriguing things. You are better for having faith.”

Tears were edging up to my eyelids. I felt as if all my internal organs were made of wax and were melting and draining into my feet.

“Did you come to your spiritual decision all by yourself?”

I shook my head. “I read some passages from the Bible they found with my husband after he was killed. Paul Shedd had given it to him. I went to Paul with questions. He led me to Christ.”

“I’m certainly no expert,” Nat said, “but isn’t that what Christians do? Don’t they share what they found?”

I dragged a dry finger beneath my eyes and pulled it away wet. “Yes.”

“Talk to Jerry, Maddy. I think you may find he’s more open than you think. He’s never ridiculed your faith, has he?”

“No, never.”

“Talk to him. Share what you know.”

“I don’t know where to begin.”

She smiled. “Begin with the heart. That’s where you two communicate the best. Always start with the heart.”

I looked down at the table. Everything Nat had said was right. I didn’t like it. I wasn’t enjoying the conversation, and a huge part of me wished I had gone back to the office. Just the other day I had tried to express my faith to Catherine, but I felt I had failed. Maybe I was too vague, too inexperienced. Maybe I gave up too soon.

The conversation was forcing a sharper focus. I did love Jerry. West was attractive and I was drawn to him, but I was connected to Jerry. We had been through so much, and he was always there, always supportive, and always patient. Patience was a requirement for those who hung around me.

“You’re right. Thank you for being so honest. I just wish I knew how to begin.” I raised my eyes from the table and saw something I had never seen before: tears brimming in Nat’s eyes.

“You can start with me,” she whispered.