Still, despite the noble intent of his note, doubt and betrayal flooded her spirit. What if he strayed again? What if another set of circumstances conspired to draw them apart? What if he was only trying to save face for his own sake, and that of their child?
Juliet settled a hand gently against her tummy and closed her eyes. Every doubt she clung to was answered by the beautiful words he had written, and the words he had spoken at church.
We can’t work on our relationship if we’re not together, Juliet.
Her entire body tingled, a force field returning to life in a way she hadn’t experienced in days. She couldn’t fathom how they would begin, or how they would attempt to live together in their present circumstances—and forget about sharing a bed.
Complications wove around her, so Juliet sprung from the seat and left the letter behind. When she did, she came upon the flowers. They were so vibrant and fresh they had to have been cut and arranged by Kellen. It was a lovely, subtle gesture of thoughtfulness. She paced to the counter and touched her fingertips to the tiny, velvety blooms. Brushing against the flowers released a scent that wrapped around her with comfort and beauty.
Beauty in the midst of ashes.
That’s when Juliet realized what she needed to do. She ventured to the living room and claimed her Bible from the table between her chair and Kellen’s.
“Pray, Juliet,” she murmured to herself as she returned to the dinette. “Pray without ceasing.”
She settled comfortably in her chair, opened her Bible, and in a matter of seconds she could feel herself tumbling headlong into God’s waiting arms.
16
Kellen squeezed the bridge of his nose. The instant he closed his eyes, exhaustion didn’t just creep in, it thundered and tromped, and beat a painful pattern against his temples.
His cell phone vibrated, sending a wave of energy against the surface of his desk. Kellen grabbed for the device more out of ingrained habit than interest.
It was Juliet.
A rush of adrenaline obliterated the remnants of a sleepless night spent in an empty, too-silent house. He almost dropped the phone in his eagerness to engage the call. “Hey, Juliet.”
He walked to the entryway of his office and closed the door with a soft, discreet click. He started to breathe hard when a long silence came as his most immediate reply.
“Hey.” Her voice—at last. Kellen spun from the door and raked his fingers through his hair. She sounded quiet and somber, but what else could he expect?
“Where are you?” He spoke in quiet, tender tones. He nearly ended with
love
—because the nickname was automatic for him. He clamped his mouth shut against the endearment, but it took tremendous effort.
“I’m home.”
More silence gave Kellen the chance to brace himself. “And?”
The note, Juliet. Did you get my note? Did you read it? Did it help you see anything of what I feel for you?
“I need time, Kellen.”
“Take all the time you need. Just…” he angled the phone so she wouldn’t hear his aching sigh. “Just…don’t give up. Not yet. OK?”
The note,
he begged in silence, wishing telepathy could send his thoughts directly to her. When more silence stretched, Kellen forced himself to push on. “Where…where do you want me to go tonight?”
He heard her stuttered breathing and it made him feel wretched.
“I…I just…” Her voice wavered. “I just don’t know, Kellen.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, cradling the phone gently—tenderly—it was Juliet on the other end of this connection.
“Your note…it was beautiful.”
Relief swept through him. At least she had seen it. At least she had read it. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Kellen. Thank God. You know, I’ve always envied those people who say they pick up their Bible, and flip at random to a verse that’s in perfect tune to whatever questions they have, or whatever circumstances they face.” Kellen was riveted. He could tell by the way her words began to tumble that a small dam had burst free. “Bible reading doesn’t work like that for me very often. Instead, I see it as a chance to pick up on knowledge and figure out the way God wants me to live.”
“That’s the way I feel, too.”
“Today was different. I got up this morning and found myself in Lamentations.” She let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-sad chuckle. “I guess the title alone was enough to draw me in.”
Kellen made no comment.
“I started reading, and I couldn’t stop. I read the entire book over breakfast. It was a pretty tough exercise up until…hang on a second. I want to read it to you.” A pause ensued, followed by some shuffling background noise. “Here it is. Chapter three, verse twenty-two.
‘Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed. His compassions never fail. They are new every morning. The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him. It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.’
”
Kellen knew Lamentations. He recalled how those few passages of hope and promise in the middle of Jeremiah’s writings were like drenching water in an arid desert of sorrow and regret. He heard Juliet close her Bible. He kept quiet while she seemed to take in a breath and regroup.
“God’s mercy is new every day.” Her soft voice stroked his soul, left him to burn for her all over again. “I need to live my life knowing that’s the truth, but I have a lot to think about. I can’t...I won’t… just let my guard down and throw open my arms in welcome. I can’t. Please don’t ask that of me.”
“I promise not to ask for any more than you can give, Juliet. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Like I said, I need time.”
“I understand.” He clutched the phone in a death grip.
“I’m going to stay with Marlene and Peter for a while longer. I’m calling because I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I mean what I say, Juliet. Do what you need to do, and take whatever time you need.”
“I intend to.”
Kellen absorbed the hit of that sharp arrow. “I’m glad for that.”
He heard her sigh. “My instinct right now is to snipe.”
Again, Kellen let silence have its way. He had no response to that fact.
“That’s not going to help us, and I know it. That’s why I want some time. I need to find a way to live past what’s happened. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours straight in tears, Kellen. I’m worn out and I’m drained. I have nothing in me right now.”
More arrow strikes. Kellen shut his eyes, withstood the stabs and pain. It was due compensation. “I understand. Can I at least call you to check in?”
Silence. “Yes.”
Then came inspiration. “Juliet, when is your next doctor’s appointment?”
“A month from now. Why?”
“Umm…I’d…like to be there with you, if that’s OK.” He struggled, hating this awkwardness and the fear he felt in approaching the woman he loved.
“Do you want…are you interested in finding out if it’s a boy or a girl?”
His heart thumped, and he smiled. He sank into the chair behind his desk and tipped his head back. Closing his eyes, he smiled. “I’d like to be surprised, but if you want to know, I could get behind that, too. It really doesn’t matter what we have if our baby is healthy and happy.”
“Yeah, I know.” Was that a smile he heard in her voice? He fought to keep steady. One inch at a time was fine by Kellen—so long as forward progress might happen. “I’d like to be surprised, too, I think. I’ll be having an ultrasound at the appointment, that’s why I asked. They won’t tell us if we don’t want them to.”
Us. We. Two of the most beautiful words in the English language…
“I’d get to hear the heartbeat and everything?” The idea of it spurred an unequalled joy.
“Yeah.”
“I’d love to be there.”
Another intense, hesitant silence expanded between them. “I’ll call you back with the details.”
Hope whooshed through him. Sure, they were miles away from any type of a comfort zone, but maybe, just maybe, this could be a start.
17
Heavy footsteps took Juliet to her closet at home. After almost three weeks away, she was ready to come back again. Shuttling between her home and Marlene’s, keeping track of clothes and supplies and avoiding Kellen as much as possible in the process was becoming an inconvenient and emotionally draining exercise. She needed to move forward.
She slid the mirrored door open and stepped inside as light flooded the interior. Listless, she began to slide hangers and explore selections. She sighed. Her motions slowed to a stop. She stared ahead blankly, seeing nothing. Weekly Bible study at Trinity Christian would begin in just under an hour. She refused to miss it. She needed the Word and the support of her church family with an intensity that bordered on desperate.
Still, a proud part of her wounded spirit rose up as well. She resumed searching her clothing options determined to come up with a beautiful ensemble. She came to a flowing, crepe skirt that featured lovely pastel hues. The waistline was elastic, so it would be comfortable to wear. She probably wouldn’t show for a few weeks yet, but her regular clothes were becoming way too snug. Next, she found a lightweight silvery-gray sweater with a cowl neck that would look great with a chunky, silver necklace. She wanted to look good, but knew such appearances were camouflage, a necessary mask to cover her shame and self-recrimination. That’s why she hadn’t attended Bible study in weeks.
The self-imposed exile would end tonight.
Tonight, just for a short while, she wanted to reclaim some semblance of routine and her old self-confidence. She wanted to feel vital, and attractive, but realizing that she needed to affirm herself in such a way caused sadness to step in the way of everything else and shove her backward.
Juliet gritted her teeth, but continued to struggle. A pair of glossy, black fashion boots rested in the back corner of the closet. She blinked her vision clear of building tears and grabbed them. Her eyes still stung, but the tears didn’t fall. She was working past them—slowly but surely.
Still, I’ve failed. Still, my marriage failed. Still, I try to call myself a Christian?
Doubts like that prompted her to Trinity tonight. Spending time with God would help. Juliet swallowed hard. She threw her selections onto the bed and made ready to untie and remove her silk robe so she could dress. Frustration built and quickly overwhelmed.
God, speak to me. Please, please speak to me. I don’t know what to do anymore. If I come back it’s like telling Kellen what he did was OK. It demeans me to admit how much I still love him, and want him. I’ve given him my heart—completely.
Without forethought, not knowing what would come next, she fell to her knees on the thick, plush carpeting. Eyes closed, and mercifully dry, she bowed her head and sank back on her haunches.
“Jesus, please be with me. I need you to show me a way out of this nightmare that will still keep my life in Your care and truth. I’m filled with so much anger. I feel so betrayed—but I love him so much. I always have. Help me deal with that fact and figure out what to do next, because right now I only feel pain, and all I want to do is leave everything behind. Even Kellen.”
****
As always, they took turns reading. Tonight’s Gospel selection came from Mark, Chapter seven. Tim Parkson read first starting at verse fourteen. “Jesus said to them: ‘Hear Me, all of you, and understand. Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile.’”
The next participant took over. Juliet’s heart reacted strangely, pumping out an uneven rhythm. She opened her mouth to breath in, to keep air flowing and help her remain steady. Her perceptions went fuzzy, and an oppressive heat crawled through her. Beginning to function outside herself, she went numb, awaiting her turn, realizing which verse would be hers to proclaim at this roundtable.
“Juliet?” Pastor Gene Thomas’s gentle prod interrupted her thoughts. She had missed her entry cue.
Nodding, she bit her lips together for a moment, and then began to read at verse twenty. “Jesus went on. ‘What comes out of a man is what makes him ‘unclean.’ For from within, out of men’s hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and make a man ‘unclean.’”
The murmured words came out in a deceivingly steady manner while on the inside she crumbled. Once she finished, she kept her eyes downcast. Hidden. The words of her Bible blurred into a grayish wash. What a condemnation. Was this God’s answer to her plight? Was this His answer to her troubles—the identification of folly, deceit, and lewdness? Adultery?
That last word weighed upon her as the readings moved mercifully on, and discussion began. She felt harshly rebuked for allowing her marriage to fall into decline with such blindness. Was God angry? Was she being punished somehow for not being enough for Kellen? For not registering, and dealing with, the signs of a decaying relationship?
Juliet didn’t hear, or absorb, a single word of the analysis that took place. As best she could, she guarded herself against the revelations those holy words forced her to confront. Breath-by-breath she willed herself to remain distant, focusing instead on the loud, even tick of the second hand as it swept across the face of the black rimmed, white-faced clock on the wall. She needed tonight’s study session to end—as quickly as possible.
Survive. Get through it.
All she wanted to do was bolt for cover.
I need to keep it together. I can’t allow a breakdown right now. Not here!
Nonetheless, the readings from Mark echoed and echoed, scratching against raw cuts on her psyche.
At the end of the study, Pastor Gene closed his Bible “Does anyone have prayer petitions they’d like to offer up?”
The question was a standard concluding rite to their weekly meetings. Juliet felt like such a hypocrite. Who was she to pray when her whole life echoed the very words she had just read? She was a mess. How could she possibly uplift anyone when she was so bogged down by recriminations and a poisoning level of anger?