CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Didi was quiet on the way home from Cascade Falls. She stretched out in the passenger seat of Jake’s SUV and rotated her shoulders to loosen sore muscles. Her legs had gotten a workout from the climb to the summit, but it was a good kind of ache. The afternoon had depleted her strength, but after hearing Jake confide all he’d been through with Victoria, she’d grown closer to him than ever. Suffering could make or break a person. He seemed to be a stronger man for it, but still…there was something nagging at her. He acted like a man who had tasks left undone. Healing was a process, but she could sense he was still struggling with something.

As Jake drove, Didi wiggled her toes, massaged her calves, and thought ahead to the rest of the evening. First, there was her mom’s birthday party to attend, then more baking to do for Higher Ground. She’d rather take a nap or, better yet, spend the evening with her boyfriend, but Jake needed some time to himself. She stole a glance in his direction, the strain evident in the tight grip of his hands on the wheel and in the frown lines on his face. She wished she could magically whisk away his worries.

Pulling into her driveway, he parked the car. Before he could open his door, she was out and around to the other side, peeping in his window. She tapped on the glass.

He raised his eyebrows and rolled down the window.

Didi reached in and hugged him close. Pulling back, she kissed his cheek. “You don’t need to walk me up. Go home. Put your feet up. Pet Lucy.”

“I am kind of tired.” Jake’s half-closed eyes told the story for him. “You’re going out with your mom tonight, right? And then you’re spending the night there?”

“Yeah. I’m going to run in, take a quick shower, and then meet Mom at the restaurant for dinner. The women at the flower shop are taking her to a new Thai place in town—her favorite food.” Didi couldn’t help but grin. “You’re still invited, you know. I think the ladies want to check you out.”

Jake snorted, and his mouth curved into a smile. “Uh, thanks, but maybe another time.” His cheery expression encouraged her.

“Well…if you’re sure…” Didi kissed him goodbye—on the mouth this time. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“I’d like it better if I could call you later tonight.”

“Sure. Assuming the ladies and I aren’t out too late.”

“Good. Later, then.” Jake turned the key in the ignition and ground his SUV into gear. He turned the wheel to pull out then hesitated. “Hey, Didi?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, you know.”

Her heart soared. Even though she believed it was true, it was always nice to hear the words.

“Ditto,” she fired right back, rewarded by the sound of his laughter.

He waved and drove off down the alley.

Didi dashed up the steps but slid to a stop. In front of her door sat a cut glass crystal vase filled with a huge bouquet of fresh flowers. Lilies. White lilies.

They obviously weren’t from Jake, so that left one person. With trepidation, she snatched the card and read, You win. I’m planning our wedding. All is forgiven. –K

Now she got it. The white lilies were perfect for a bride.

Didi was floored. Did Kevin mean he was giving in when it came to setting a wedding date? There was no wedding, nor would there ever be. She was forgiven? What was that about? Forgiven for what? Going out with Jake? She broke out in a cold sweat, and a shiver snaked up her spine. How could Kevin not understand that they were over? She never wanted to see him again, and there was no chance of reconciliation. A sane person would recognize that. How could she fight crazy?

Picking up the offending flowers, vase and all, Didi marched back down the stairs. She hurled the unwelcome blooms in the garbage can under the deck. Somehow, lilies from Kevin did not smell as sweet.

She brushed her hands together to rid her fingers of any lingering traces of the man and stomped back up the stairs and into the house. She locked the door behind her and fastened the chain.

Baffled as to how to react, Didi showered and tried to calm down as she stood under the hot, soothing spray. She had no way of knowing when Kevin had left the flowers, but she’d bet he’d pounded on the door, hunting for her. The last time Kevin had been in her apartment, he’d harassed her precious cat, but thankfully, her calico had already been transported to her mom’s house. She was glad Maisie hadn’t been home…and happier still that she hadn’t been, either.

As she toweled off and dressed for the party, she paused. She’d been meaning to do something. Going to the desk in the guest room, she opened the top drawer and peeked inside. On the top of the pile was the pamphlet on controlling personalities she’d received from Officer Anderson. She should have read it well before now, but for some reason, she’d been reluctant. Maybe she didn’t want to face the truth.

She plunked down on the bed and studied the words, concentrating on each point to see if she could recognize her ex. Every paragraph spoke to her. When she reached item number seven, an icy chill darted down her back. It clearly laid out the “Vicious Cycle” of the typical controller.

The cycle commences when the offender is intentionally mean and hurtful, switching back to sweet, back again to mean, and round and round we go. The controller may be verbally abusive, curse, and threaten when faced with a minor infraction of “the rules.” When the controller senses the relationship is turning rocky, he/she becomes sweet again, doing all of those nice little things he/she did at the beginning to “win” you over.

For months, Kevin’s behavior had been unpredictable, his numerous phone calls vacillating between charming and nasty. She’d treaded softly in order to stay on his good side. Perpetual groveling was an arduous way to exist.

The tenth sign on the list, “Breakup Panic,” hit home.

A controller, despite having shallow emotions and minimal connections with others, panics at the idea of breaking up. When faced with the end of the relationship, abusive boyfriends might plead, promise to change, or offer an engagement ring or marriage. Their reactions are intense, designed to keep you an emotional prisoner. You are their prize pet, and they want to keep you.

Whoa, prize pet? That was exactly how he’d made her feel.

Point number fifteen, “Frightening Temper,” stopped Didi cold. Part of her was afraid to read it, but she kept going. She had to.

If your partner is acting dangerously, drives too fast because he/she is mad, throws items, gets into fights, or threatens people or animals, that temper will soon be turned in your direction. Mr. or Ms. Controller quickly assures you he/she is only angry at the poor treatment he/she receives from others. Be warned. At some point, this violent anger will be directed at you.

There was more, but it hit her that she was in the house alone. Goose pimples crept up her arms. With hair still damp, she hurriedly gathered her things and left for the restaurant. She’d let Jake know about the bouquet when he called later that night.

* * *

Jake turned into his driveway at a snail’s pace. Home was the last place he wanted to be. His troubles had followed hot on his heels. With a churning stomach and thumping heart, he willed himself to stop obsessing, but he couldn’t seem to quiet his mind. He was tempted to throw the car into reverse and head for the hills, but instead, he squared his shoulders and climbed the steps to the front porch.

He’d purchased two matching chairs at an estate sale and sanded them satiny smooth before painting them a glossy antique white. Easing down into his ancient oak rocking chair, he groaned. A light rap on the window behind him caught his attention. Lucy was perched primly on the windowsill, staring intently at him. Rising up on her hind legs, she pounded at the glass as if it were a snare drum. The staccato “tap-a-tap-tap” of her tiny front feet encouraged his laughter. The orange Siamese scowled at him. She was inside, he was outside, and Lucy didn’t like it. Jake cocked his head and stared back at her, wide-eyed, pretending ignorance.

She yowled. With feeling. Jake imagined her strident shrieks meant, “Where’s my dinner? Chop, chop,” in grouchy Siamese. Jake took his time standing up and smirked at his cat.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, the little cat wrapping herself around his ankles all the way to the kitchen. He popped the top on the canned cat food and plopped the smelly stuff in her bowl. Next, he checked his messages and washed a couple of dishes he’d left in the sink. He placed his cell phone on the charger, trimmed a ragged fingernail, flipped through the mail, and scooped the litter box. He paid some bills, watered the hanging baskets of flowers on the front porch, and scanned the headlines of the local newspaper.

He heaved a heavy sigh and laced his fingers behind his head. He knew what he had to do. I just don’t want to do it.

Exhausted from his mental struggles, Jake tumbled into his burgundy leather chair and, with reluctance, reached for the Good Book. He laughed a rueful laugh when a line from Star Trek: The Next Generation came to mind. “Resistance is futile.” Although spilling his guts to Didi today had been cathartic, it had also brought sad memories back with a whoosh. He was tired of this fight. He wanted it to end, and he wanted it to end now.

A short while later, Jake closed his Bible and placed it next to him on the coffee table. Lacing his fingers, he deliberated on the passage he’d just read. The Old Testament book of Jonah only had four chapters. It hadn’t taken long.

Although Jake knew the tale by heart, it had been a long time since he’d mustered the gumption to tackle the thin but weighty book. Guilt and shame settled on his shoulders like a sodden cloak as he pondered the implications.

Of all the men in the Bible, Jonah would be remembered as one of the most stubborn. He was a man who demanded his own way, and he ignored God’s command. The prophet’s fear and pride caused him to flee from the Lord, and Jake had been doing the very same thing. He’d been running in the wrong direction, spinning his wheels, and making a mess of his life. He was just like Jonah.

All these years, Jake had thought he’d been angry with God when, in large part, he’d been angry with himself. How foolish. It was futile to run from God. At the tender age of eleven, he’d been given a purpose and a call to ministry. He’d run, but he wasn’t running anymore. Finally, he was listening, or at least he was trying to. With a gentle voice, God was drawing him back.

From his experience, sometimes defiance brought pain and loss to others. With a paralyzing flash, Didi filled his mind to overflowing. She meant everything to him. Jake had a grueling decision to make. If he followed his call, would he get to keep the woman he had come to love? Was Didi in God’s plan? He couldn’t bear to lose her. Could he?

It was getting late, but he needed to take a trip—and he needed to go tonight, before his resolve evaporated. He was comforted by the thought that his girlfriend was at her mother’s birthday party and that she was spending the night with her mom as well. She was safe. He’d made sure of that.

He’d call her after he got there, but his night owl would still be up. What will I say? He didn’t have a clue. He needed more time to figure it all out for himself before he could tell her what was going on.

He took a moment to send Lori a quick text, asking her to feed Lucy in the morning and saying he’d explain later. She’d been Lucy’s kitty sitter before and knew the routine.

Zipping upstairs, he threw a few essentials into a duffle bag. He tossed in bottled water, an apple, a couple of protein bars, and a flashlight. Lastly, he rummaged through his desk and drew out a large envelope and a brass key. Dropping the key into his pocket, he headed out.

He’d be back in less than twenty-four hours. This was a quick trip. By tomorrow night, life would be better. At least, he hoped so.