8

Ray stood a moment; stunned into immobility by the way Rebecca shoved herself out of his arms. “Rebecca, wait!”

She stumbled through the snow, sobbing. She tripped, and it spurred him into action.

“Rebecca, please. Stop.” His breath came in ragged pants as he hurried to catch her.

Boulders and small stones cluttered the path. Slippery patches of ice covered by snow gave way beneath his feet as he raced after her. “God, help me,” he muttered, realizing the danger she was in.

On a sudden rush of adrenaline, he grabbed at her and missed. Lunging forward he tried again, this time snagging her by the jacket. “For heaven’s sake, Rebecca, slow down, you’re close to the edge.” His arm snaked around her waist as they tumbled to the ground.

Using the weight of his body, he took advantage of the momentum and rolled them backward, down the incline and away from the precipice. “Are you all right?” he asked when they came to a halt.

She wasn’t sobbing now, but calm. Frighteningly so. She lifted wide, terrified eyes to his. “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “I’ve been teetering on the edge for more than a year now.”

“Somehow, I doubt we’re talking about the same edge.” Picking up a handful of snow, he packed it into a firm ball and tossed it to where it disappeared into thin air a mere few feet from where they lay.

A horrified gasp escaped her. Rebecca scrambled into a sitting position and scooted further back.

Rolling to his feet, Ray offered her a hand up. “C’mon, let’s get out of this snow.”

Rebecca’s hand trembled as she placed it in his. Once she’d gained her feet, Raymond took her gently but firmly by the arm and led her back down the mountain.

A tense silence accompanied them to the vehicle. There was no lighthearted banter, no teasing flirtations, and no offer of the hot chocolate he’d promised earlier.

Rebecca’s eyes were swollen with tears, and she looked terrified.

Ray opened the passenger door and helped her in without saying a word. Crossing behind the vehicle, he took a couple of deep breaths to calm his raging senses. His mind whirled in shock at what had happened, adrenaline pumped through his veins so fast he could hardly breathe.

Fear of rejection gnawed at his heart assisted by the jagged teeth of insecurity. His stomach churned with anxiety combined with the thick bile of uncertainty, all coated with guilt.

He climbed in beside her and started the car, letting the engine run a few minutes before backing out of the parking lot. Within moments, the vehicle was heated to toasty perfection, but the chill in his heart hadn’t even begun to thaw.

Rebecca stared out the window, appearing numb to everything around her.

He could almost see her trembling. He forced his eyes back to the road. “You want to tell me what happened back there?”

Rebecca glanced over then looked away. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”

The temper he rarely displayed bubbled to surface. Humiliated? She was humiliated? Why of all the unmitigated gall! Had he put his hands on her inappropriately, maybe he could understand her sentiments….Ray cleared his throat and ground his teeth in order to bite back the angry retorts that sprang to mind. “I beg your pardon; you want to explain that one?”

Her smile was self-mocking. “Oh, please, Ray, another few minutes of that and you’d have known me as intimately as a man could, right there on the ground.”

Ray saw red. Bright, hot, furious red. He pulled into one of the many roadside viewing areas along the mountain, ground the vehicle to a slamming halt and faced her. “Do you think I’d take advantage of you like that? Do you honestly believe I’m so insensitive? I’ll admit that it didn’t do my ego a bit of harm to feel the sweetness of your response, but don’t you think I recognize the fact that you haven’t been kissed in over a year and that it was a mixture of pleasure and loneliness? Do you really think I’m so shallow as to not understand?”

~*~

If Rebecca was stunned by her response to Ray’s kiss, she was doubly so at his reaction now. She watched in shocked silence as his laughing green eyes flashed, his sweet smile drew into a frown. His charming countenance shifted, a kaleidoscope of emotions flitted across his features…frustration rode on the heels of anger followed quickly by insecurity and pain.

Her heart clenched as realization hit. She’d hurt him. Not his pride, but his feelings, and that was unacceptable. With trembling fingers she pried one of his hands off the steering wheel. It lay like a dead weight in her grasp.

He held himself rigid, aloof.

She could feel the pain radiating from him. Deep. Raw. She swallowed the knot in her throat. “No. I’d never think that of you. It’s not you; it’s me. I’ve...” her voice trailed off, astounded by her next thought, shaken at what she’d almost said; I’ve never been kissed like that.

“You’ve what?”

Avoiding his gaze, Rebecca raised a trembling hand to rub at her temple. “I don’t know how to explain what it is I’m trying to say.”

“Just say it, Rebecca. You’ve what?”

She couldn’t. To admit another man had made her feel things Jim never did would betray her husband and the love they’d shared. She shook her head. “I don’t know what it is I’m trying to say.” Her gaze lifted to his, searching for understanding while her mind tried to come up with an explanation that would appease them both. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to make you angry or hurt your feelings. You said you wanted to get to know me, not as the widow on your route, but the real me, the real Rebecca Sinclair. I’m not sure even I know who she is. I’ve always been Rebecca Sinclair, wife of Jim Sinclair, mother of Jeffrey and Debbie Sinclair. That’s who I am.”

Ray shook his head. “That’s what you are, not who. You are—or were—a wife, and you will always be a mother, but that’s only a part of who you are.” His grip tightened in hers, his voice softened and reassured her. “I want to know the woman beneath the labels.” He shook his head again. “And, I’m sorry if I lost it there for a minute.” ”

He looked into her eyes, and the affection reflected there made her heart race.

“I like you a lot, Becca, and I care about you. Your words took me by surprise—to think that you could even consider…but I guess you really don’t know me, do you?” He looked away, out the windshield to a sky filled with burgeoning colors.

She squeezed his hand and drew his attention back to her. “I do know you, Ray. You are kind and supportive, and you’re a wonderful friend. You’re sweet and romantic.” Bubbles of heat burst beneath her skin. A self-conscious giggle escaped her tense lips. “I-I’m out of practice with all that. Not that I ever had a lot of practice to begin with. Jim and I knew each other forever and married so young. We didn’t do a lot of flirting. Or dating for that matter. We just…”she shrugged. “Were… For lack of a better word. Always together, always a couple and then a family.”

“So you’re not angry with me? Or frightened?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No.”

Tension dissipated. His smile returned. He squeezed her hand then lifted it and kissed the palm. “Good.”

Relief curled through Rebecca. She still had her self-respect, her dignity, and she still had his friendship. She cupped his cheek. “Your friendship means the world to me, Ray. I never want to lose it.

“You won’t.”

“I don’t even know where to start in finding out who Rebecca Sinclair is,” she admitted.

“Perhaps we can discover her together,” Ray said his tone gentle. “I know I’ve asked you this before, but have you thought about going to school or getting a job?”

“Not really. Whenever I think about those things, or try to think about them, the same questions come to mind...go to school for what? Get a job doing what? Like I’ve said before, I have no skills outside of being a wife and mother and no education outside of a G.E.D.”

Ray shook his head. “You’re limiting yourself and your abilities by thinking like that. There’s a lot more involved in being a wife and mother than you’re taking into consideration; housekeeper, bookkeeper, nurse, child care expert, chef...you have to think outside the box, Rebecca.”

“Maybe so,” she said. “But what does thinking outside the box do for me in terms of furthering my education or getting a job?”

“Well, how about a child care attendant in a nursery or day care, a cashier, or a restaurant hostess. Many of those positions don’t require more than a high school diploma. As for school, I’m not sure. What are your interests and hobbies?”

Rebecca smiled. “Hobbies? My youngest child just graduated from high school and left home. Up until now, there hasn’t been time for hobbies. I mean, I did all the things a wife and mother does: cook, clean, bake, sew; and I enjoyed them all, but other than reading, I don’t have any hobbies.”

He shrugged. “Well maybe it’s time for you to get some. Volunteer at a hospital or nursing home or something. Get out of the house and meet people. Find your passion and set goals for yourself.”

“Find my passion?” she teased. “You sound like one of those self-help gurus on TV.”

He chuckled. “Guess I could do a lot worse,” he said. “They do have a point though.”

A tap on the driver’s window of the vehicle interrupted further conversation.

Ray rolled down the window.

“Everything OK in there?” the policeman asked.

“Yes, Sir,” Ray nodded in assurance.

“Ma’am?”

Rebecca leaned forward with a smile. “Yes, we’re just talking.”

The patrolman nodded. “OK, but it’s time to move on. A storm’s brewing and we’re advising everyone to get off the mountain.”

“No problem.” Ray rolled up the window, put the vehicle in gear, and then maneuvered back onto the roadway and headed down the mountain once more. He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Look back, Becca. Isn’t it amazing how quickly darkness can slither in, covering the light and hiding its beauty?”

She twisted in her seat and looked at the mountain.

Dark thunderclouds had moved in, shrouding the splendorous peaks.

His words sank deep. Rebecca felt the sharp stab of them. Just like when we kissed. Though he hadn’t said it aloud, the thought reverberated and cut to the heart. Hers twisted with guilt. Taking his hand once more, she brought it to her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Ray. I didn’t mean to spoil the beauty of your kiss.”

His smile was tender. “And I didn’t mean to insinuate that.” He tugged their hands to his mouth, pressed a kiss to the fingertips and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s forget it, OK?”

“Thank you,” she whispered, blinking back tears.

The ride back to the restaurant was in companionable silence, interspersed with snatches of conversation. Rebecca thought about all that had transpired between them. He’d given her a lot to think about, a lot to pray about. Emotional outbursts were not the norm for her, and she was relieved to finally get in her car and head home.

That evening, unable to sleep, Rebecca roamed the house. All afternoon and evening, she’d wrestled with demons over the incident with Ray. Many times she’d picked up the phone wanting to be reassured of his continued friendship—that she hadn’t hurt him too deeply—but had never called him, afraid of what he might say after having time to think things over.

Memories of his kiss tortured her body and haunted her mind. I’ve never been kissed like that. The realization was like a dousing of cold water, numbing her heart with the truth. No, it couldn’t be true! She’d been married for twenty-two years to a wonderful man; surely she’d felt that before.

Rebecca closed her eyes and tried to recall how it felt to be in Jim’s arms, his lips gently caressing hers. Pleasure, soft, sweet and tender was all she could remember ever feeling with him.

A groan of frustration rose; tears filled her eyes. Rebecca raked her fingers through her hair and then pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes before burying her face in the palms. “God please help me to understand what I’m feeling.”

Her musings from a couple of nights ago played themselves over in her mind, only this time, sadness filled her instead of longing, as she realized that no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, hot bubble baths and full-body massages with scented oil followed by exquisite lovemaking were not the norm for her and Jim.

Even though they’d had a satisfying relationship, she’d reached the pinnacle of passion she’d imagined only a handful of times in all their years of marriage. Though she’d enjoyed her husband’s kiss, it was nothing like the soul-jarring thrill she experienced in Ray’s arms.

Picking up her mail, she glanced through it and then dropped it on the table without opening a single envelope. No scented stickers on this packet.

Plopping into a chair, she buried her head on her arms and let the tears come, as guilt rose to torment her once more. She reached for the phone, desperately wanting someone to talk to. But who? One of the kids? She shook her head, they’d never understand. She picked up the phone book and thumbed through it, not sure exactly what she was looking for.

A twenty-four hour counseling hotline number jumped out at her. She hesitated.

Jim would never have allowed her to talk about their problems to a stranger. His voice rose in her mind. “You’ll not put our business on the street.”

She shook her head, shocked—surprised even—that his voice would rise up now to chide her when it hadn’t bothered to offer a single word of comfort over the past year.

“It’s not your business anymore,” she said aloud. Anger set in, spewed forth in her next words. “You’re dead and I’m here all by myself. How could you do this to me, Jim Sinclair, knowing the kids’ dreams would take them so far away? How could you leave me to face the rest of my life alone? I don’t even have a headstone to visit.” She pushed out of the chair to pace the kitchen, giving vent to the fury coursing through her. “You, with your grand ideas of being cremated and your ashes thrown out of an airplane, have left me totally alone! And now, when I really need someone to talk to, someone who’ll listen to my feelings, you decide to speak up. How dare you?”

She picked up the phone and dialed the number. Before she could hang up, a gentle, reassuring voice came on the line.

“Hello, Christian Counseling Service, how may I help you?”

Words tumbled from her mouth as of their own accord. Rebecca told all, every feeling, every detail of the past year even up to the incident with Ray that afternoon. Emotionally spent, she slumped into the chair and rested her head on her arm while the phone, held limply against her ear, dangled precariously in her fingers.

“Are you still there?” the quiet voice asked.

“Yes.” Rebecca had never realized how much energy uttering a single syllable could take.

“Good. Let me begin by saying that everything you’re feeling right now is perfectly normal. I’ve been a counselor for many years, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that grief is multifaceted. Your friend is right, it’s time for you to start moving forward with your life, and I agree with him about the letter. Give yourself time to assimilate your feelings before you open it. After more than thirty years, another few weeks or so won’t hurt.” There was a brief pause of the gentle voice. “I believe God is calling you out of your circumstances, the normality of life as you have known it. If I may, I suggest you find a church family. Don’t be in a rush about it, but visit those around you and let God lead you to the place where He wants you to be. Until you do, there are many great ministers on television who can help to guide you.”

“Jim never liked churches. Nor did he respect TV preachers.”

“May I ask why?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. He just never could get comfortable in places of what he termed as formal, structured religion, and he said TV preachers were phonies who were only after your money. We always read our Bible and prayed, and we raised our kids up in the way of the Lord. He allowed them to visit their friends’ churches whenever they wanted, but we never found one he was comfortable with.”

“How do you feel about it?”

Rebecca thought a moment, considered her answer carefully, prayerfully. “There were a couple of places over the years that I liked, but I tried to be respectful of my husband and his opinions. Isn’t that what a good wife should do?”

The counselor was quiet for a moment, and Rebecca assumed he also was prayerfully considering his response.

“I don’t think any man should have that much control over a woman’s thoughts and feelings, even if she is his wife. There is a balance to the ‘women respect your husbands’ directive that doesn’t involve following blindly. But I’m not here to judge your beliefs, your husband, or your convictions. If you believed in your heart you were doing God’s will, then it’s OK. But that time of your life is over and it’s time for you to start thinking and feeling for yourself. It’s OK not to concern yourself with your husband’s way of thinking. It’s time to grow into the woman God wants you to be.”

“But, how do I do that? Where do I start?”

“What translation of the Bible do you have?”

“We have a couple of different ones around here. Jim was very into God’s Word and he studied it faithfully.”

“Sounds like he was a man after God’s heart.”

“He was gentle and kind and respectful. He believed wholly in the Bible and sought to understand it and God.”

“That’s good. Please forgive me if I’ve insinuated otherwise. I believe he was, as you say, a good man. But I also believe it’s time for you to stand up and be counted for who you are as an individual. You were a good and faithful wife, but now it’s time to move beyond those things and become the woman God wants you to be in this new chapter of your life.”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but no one will tell me what to do or where to start.” Her voice quivered. Fresh tears welled in her eyes and throat.

The counselor prayed aloud asking the Holy Spirit for wisdom and guidance. “OK, here’s what I think you should do. Get a women’s devotional Bible. There are many good editions out there. Go to the bookstore, browse through them all and pick the one you feel God is leading you to buy.

“Then, start visiting area churches. Don’t feel you have to mix and mingle with all of the people right away, but do linger and talk to those who approach you.

“God will put people in your path to help, to give you words of wisdom, guidance and direction; so be open to those who approach you.

“You might want to ask about and consider joining a Bible study group or something like it. Another good idea is to keep a prayer journal. You know, kind of like keeping a diary. Journaling has been known to be quite helpful in organizing your thoughts or gaining insight and direction for your life.

“Don’t feel like you have to jump in with both feet and go all out with this. Move slowly and prayerfully, but do something. God will not leave nor forsake you and even if you feel like you’re making a mistake, He will not allow you to stray, but will draw you gently back unto Himself.

“Write this phone number down and carry it with you everywhere and please, feel free to call anytime. There is always someone here to listen.”

They talked for a few more minutes.

The counselor gave her the name of his home church, days and times of services, invited her to visit, informed her of the women’s ministry the church taught, and others they supported.

Rebecca hung up the phone. The huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she found herself calm and able to relax. She went to bed prayerful and thankful that for once, she had disregarded her husband’s attitudes and opinions and done something for herself.