Secrets over Sweet Tea (25 page)

He fumbled through the polo shirt section in Macy’s like a teenager on a first date—excited, unsure, and hoping no one was paying too close attention. He picked up a shirt that caught his eye. Yeah, that was right—
his
eye. It was blue-and-white striped with a little orange man on the left side of the chest. He held it out in front of him. Studied it. He didn’t know what else to do with it. So he just stood there holding it. Looking at it like a teenage boy staring at his date when she first opened the door. Wondering,
Now what am I supposed to do with this?

“Can I help you?” a man asked, his hot-pink tie suggesting that Zach didn’t want his help.

“Nah, I’m good. Just browsing.”
Oh, my word, I just said
browsing
.

“Well, let me know if I can get you anything.”

“Sure. Yeah. I’ll do that.” He sounded twelve. He felt twelve, like a child in a grown-up world. How did he get to this, not knowing what kind of clothes he liked or how to choose between a polo and a button-down?

He spotted a sign featuring a golfer and headed that direction. He loved to golf, but he hadn’t done it much in recent years. Caroline always complained that it took him away from the family. Thinking about that now made him almost want to laugh. Caroline was the one who was rarely home—not just with work, but with the gym, with meetings, with her friends. She was the one who took long vacation getaways with the girls. And yet he was guilted over an afternoon of golf?

He ran his fingers across a soft golf shirt. It was light blue. He loved that color. The one next to it was a kind of orange. He picked them both up. He noticed two mannequins nearby that were wearing some great pants. He searched the tables next to the mannequins and pulled out two pairs, one in black and one in a light khaki. By the time he made it to the dressing room, he had ten different items draped over his arm and was pretty sure he and the pink-tie man were going to be lifelong friends.

He tried on clothes and shoes until the lights blinked to indicate the store was closing. By then he had six shirts, three pairs of shorts, two pairs of slacks, two pairs of shoes, and a pack of underwear. And he had picked every item out himself.

When the pink-tie man rang up the total, Zach almost gasped. He never spent money on himself. There was an
awkward pause as the associate held out his hand and Zach debated leaving all those clothes right there on the counter. Money was tight. His wallet felt heavy in his pocket. Pink-tie man’s smile was starting to collapse.

Finally Zach pulled the debit card from his pocket and handed it to the man. And instantly felt fine about the purchase. Tonight freedom had no price.

He walked out smiling into the now-black evening. Once in the car, he pushed the radio button and began to think through what the last few hours had done for him. He had lost some self-doubt and some insecurity. And he had found a few things as well. He had found that he liked shopping for himself. That he liked Sperry shoes and golf shirts in colorful shades of blue and orange and green.

Yeah, he was finding himself. He was finding himself so much that he might actually admit to someone that he had been shopping. In fact, he wanted to tell someone.

He texted Caroline. She didn’t respond.

“Mom, I think I want to cuss,” Rhett declared as he climbed into bed. His Spider-Man underwear revealed the superhero’s ability to swing from a web that shot from his hands.

Ten-year-old Tucker ran in and jumped onto Rhett’s bed. Rhett pushed a hand toward him. “Get off, Tuck.”

Tucker bounced up and down just to torment his little brother—until Scarlett Jo popped him on the backside. “Get to your bed, Tucker.” She reached for the edge of the brown blanket that lay beneath Rhett’s green, brown, and blue patchwork coverlet.

“I want to cuss again, Mom,” Tucker announced as he threw himself across his bed and his feet collided with the wall.

Scarlett Jo had to laugh. The whole cussing issue had begun the other day in the car, when Cooper was tattling on Forrest for taking God’s name in vain. Cooper had been a rat the entire day. Everything out of his mouth that day was either thoughtless or downright rude. So Jackson had asked him, “Cooper, what’s worse—taking the Lord’s name in vain or having a nasty attitude like you’ve had today and saying ugly things to your brothers?”

Cooper hadn’t even needed to think about it. “Taking the Lord’s name in vain because that’s a Ten Commandment!”

Scarlett Jo had hurried to cover her mouth and nose so she wouldn’t snort. But her shoulders were shaking so hard she was certain her seat was moving.

“That’s where you’re wrong, bud,” Jackson said. “Jesus looks at our hearts. We tell you that all the time. Now I’m not saying you
should
take the Lord’s name in vain. But I’ve got to tell you, I know a lot of men who would never, ever say a bad word, who go to church every Sunday and don’t miss paying their tithes, but treat people as mean as anyone I’ve ever met. They get angry if they feel like they’ve been slighted even a little. And their words can be cutting and cruel. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Cooper wasn’t sure he did.

Jackson decided to help him some more. “It’s like saying a cussword. Some people make a big deal out of not cussing, but they’ll treat the cashier at Walmart like she has no value. So what is worse, Cooper? Saying a cussword if you’re joking or you just forget? Or treating someone badly?”

“Um, treating someone badly?”

“That’s right. Mom and I have tried to teach y’all that God is most concerned about the condition of your heart.”

Forrest wanted to explore this some more. “So if I am in a boat with my friends, and we almost tip over, and I say a bad word—that’s okay?”

“I’m saying if your heart has evil intent in anything you do, Forrest, that is sin. But I’m not recommending you go out cussing with your friends.”

Scarlett Jo had looked back at her youngest boys, who were following the conversation with rapt attention. Maybe it was time to defuse the whole issue. “Tucker, do you want to say a cussword?”

Tucker let out an almost-feminine giggle. “Sure.” He stuck out his chest and let one fly. The entire car erupted.

“Cooper, do you want to say one?” she prodded.

Cooper shook his head.

Rhett blurted out, “I’ll say one!” as if it were the coolest thing he could imagine.

Scarlett Jo caught Jackson’s eye and snorted. “Okay, buddy. Go ahead.”

And off he’d gone. The word he chose had surprised everyone, including himself, and they’d all burst out laughing. Which was obviously why he was bringing it up now.

She swatted his rear end in a playful way. “No, no cussing tonight. Though I’m glad you have the freedom to say anything to us, I’m thinking we don’t need to be known as ‘the cussing preacher’s family.’”

“But cussing’s fun, Mommy.”

She laughed and picked at a chip in her orange-painted
fingernail. Renovating Grace’s future tearoom was fun, but hard on her manicure.

“I agree it can be fun every now and then. But tonight let’s just say our prayers. Mama’s pooped.” She pushed the blanket underneath his chin in a wadded mess. Jackson would have folded it neatly, which had never made any sense to her. Rhett would have it wadded in a few minutes no matter what.

Rhett folded his hands under his chin. She turned and looked at Tucker, who had his eyes closed too. “Lord, thank you for this day and for food and for the poor people in Haiti and Africa. Bless Mommy and Daddy and Jack and Forrest and Cooper and Tucker. And, Jesus, I pray that when we cuss, you’ll know our heart. Amen.”

Scarlett Jo leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Amen, baby boy.” She walked over to Tucker and kissed the top of his freckled head. “Love you, Tuck.”

“You too, Mom.”

She moved toward the doorway. As she did, an unmistakable—and rude—sound ripped through the room. Tucker burst out laughing. Rhett responded by producing one just as loud. “You boys are pitiful.” Scarlett Jo reached to flick off the light. But as she left the room, she let one go that put theirs to shame.

She could hear them howling all the way down the hall as she headed to her bedroom—and thanked God that she didn’t have a houseful of girls. Because her boys thought she was the coolest mom ever.

Grace threw another bag of trash into the Dumpster behind her store. She was a little more than three weeks away from opening, and the place already looked amazing—everything she’d wanted it to be. The pink- and white-checkered tile floor matched the pink in the toile wallpaper. Light fixtures with large paper shades and dangling crystals hung in four different sections of the store. The kitchen was fully equipped.

With all the decorating basics in place, now she was into the fun stuff. Scarlett Jo had unpacked the gift items that had arrived—packaged teas, cups and saucers and teapots, gourmet chocolates. Shopping bags with her logo and the store name, Sweet Tea, would be there any day now. Each time she held an item, she felt like she was holding another new piece of her life.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t apologize anymore.” The voice she heard coming from nearby was familiar.

She peered through the slatted wood divider that separated her parking place from the building next to her. Zach Craig stood by his car, talking on the phone. His words came in spurts and sputters as if he couldn’t get through to the person on the other end of the line.

Grace leaned against the boards and listened, not to what he was saying, but how he was saying it. She knew that tone, the desperation in it. Why wouldn’t she? She had felt it so many times herself. She also heard exasperation. Weariness. All of it was so familiar. And she hurt for him. In spite of the mistakes he had made, she hurt for him in this moment.

“Were you listening to my conversation?”

She hadn’t heard him come up beside her. She jumped, and her hand flew over the Izod logo on her short-sleeved red shirt. “Oh, my goodness, you scared me half to death.”

“That’s what you get for eavesdropping.” His words weren’t angry, but they weren’t warm either.

Her hand slowly slid from her chest. “I wasn’t really eavesdropping.”

He put a hand on the beam that ran along the edge of the divider, the cuff of his blue button-down rolled up close to his elbow. “What do you mean, ‘wasn’t really’?”

She pressed her lips together. “I came out here to throw away some trash and heard you talking. But I wasn’t listening to what you said. I was listening to how you said it.”

His eyebrows lifted. She had never noticed how pretty his eyes were until this moment—all open and alert and completely focused on her. They were blue and clear . . . and clearly not happy.

She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard anything. She wanted to do what she had always done, which was pretend. She stood up straighter, as if that would give her more confidence. “I know your tone.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

She was getting a little indignant herself now. “Yes, I do. I’ve had it.”

“And what tone is it exactly that you’ve had and you think I have?”

“Well—” she shifted slightly—“it sounds kind of desperate.”

He moved his hand and let out a puff of air. “You think I’m desperate?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It’s exactly what you said.”

“Those were my words, yes. Not necessarily my meaning.” She was getting flustered, and he wasn’t helping. “I just mean I can hear what is underneath your words.”

“So now you’re a shrink.” The words came out with a bite. He noticed too. He ran his hands through his thick brown hair. “I’m sorry, Grace. I’m tired.”

She stuck her hands in her jeans pockets. “It’s okay. I didn’t handle this the best way either.”

“The thing is, you’re right. I am desperate, in so many ways.”

She pursed her lips and rocked slightly on the toes of her flip-flops. “Well, it takes one to know one. That’s why I could identify it.”

“Listen, I need some caffeine.”

“I’ve got tea, but we’re not really open yet.”

“I need more than tea. I’m going to Starbucks.” He started walking, then turned. “You coming?”

Apparently she had missed the invitation. “Sure. Yeah.”

She grabbed her purse, and they walked through the alleyway and parking lot toward the rear entrance of Starbucks.

He ordered some kind of hyped-up espresso drink, and she got a green tea Frappuccino. “That looks like baby poop,” he observed as they returned to the alley.

She pulled the straw from her mouth. “Well, you make me really want to drink it now.”

He laughed. “Sorry. But it does. It looks like one of those smoothies they’ve put spinach in. Something that looks that nasty has to be good for you.”

She talked through another mouthful. “It’s topped with whipped cream. Trust me. It’s not good for me. But I’m sure it’s better than that liquid speed you’re about to consume.”

“I confess. I’m an addict.” He took a long drink. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. My tone and all.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m not usually that forthright. Huge step forward for me.”

“Aren’t our friends lucky?”

They both laughed.

“How’s the new space coming, by the way? The brown paper on the windows keeps me from spying on you like you spy on me.”

She started to protest, then stopped. “I was so spying, wasn’t I?”

“Shamelessly.”

“No, I was ashamed, but I was still spying. I haven’t done that in years.”

“I’m glad I can help you break out of your old patterns of behavior.”

“Zach, I’m really sorry.”

He fiddled with the brown cardboard sleeve on his coffee. “Well, it’s not like I wasn’t having a rather loud discussion in the middle of a parking lot.”

She furrowed her brow. “True. So I wasn’t spying.” She took another big swig of her Frappuccino. “I feel so much better about myself now.”

He laughed.

“Do you want to come see how it looks?” she asked.

“What looks?”

She elbowed him. “My store.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I’d love to see it.”

She unlocked the back door and took him in through the kitchen. They passed the restroom and her office. She pulled back the toile curtain and looped it over a scrolled iron hook that held it back. Then she studied his face as he took it all in.

“Wow.” His eyes widened and he lowered his coffee cup. “It’s . . . pink.”

“I know. Great, isn’t it?” She still couldn’t get over how good it looked. Every time she walked through the door, she smiled.

“Yeah, but it’s so girlie.”

“It’s a tearoom, goof. What do you expect?” This ease she felt with him was nice. “Guys usually don’t visit tearooms. That’s why there’s a pub a few doors down.”

“Yeah, for beer drinking and cigar smoking and crass conversations.”

“Yes, for men. Here we’ll have tea sipping, scone eating, and hat wearing. Plus, I imagine, a lot of women talking about girl stuff.”

Zach looked at her, studying her almost. She fidgeted
beneath his gaze. “You look so happy, Grace. And I’m so happy for you.”

She smiled. “It’s true. I didn’t know this kind of happiness was even possible.” She paused, not sure if she should share what had just popped into her brain. The old Grace would have bitten her lip. Nodded. Thanked him for coming. But this Grace had something else to say—or rather, ask.

“Since now I’m an eavesdropper and all . . . how are things with you?”

He lowered his shoulders and set his drink down on one of the glass-topped tables. In a few weeks they would sport blue tablecloths over bold pink- and white-flowered skirts. “It’s not good. Caroline won’t talk to me. Well, let me rephrase. She talks at me, not with me. There’s so much that needs to be said, so much that we need to go through. But she just puts up this wall.”

“She’s got to be really hurting.”

He ran his hands through his hair again. “I know she is. And she has every right to hurt. But we can’t get anywhere if we can’t communicate. We’ve been separated for months now. She threatens divorce but doesn’t pursue it. But she doesn’t pursue me either. I’ve tried to get her to go to counseling with me. I’ve tried to get her to go to counseling by herself. But she won’t do anything.”

“Maybe she can’t. What y’all went through was huge. I mean h-u-g-e.”

“Yes, I get it, Grace.”

“Sorry. I’m just saying that sometimes that kind of pain can get you stuck.”

“Well, she’s got to get unstuck if anything is going to happen.”

“I really am sorry. And I do understand on some level. I understand your pain, and I understand hers too.”

“I just can’t fix this. I can’t. At least I’ve come to terms with that.”

“That certainly sounds like improvement. From one fixer to another, I’m thinking there’s some freedom in that for you.”

“There is.” He smiled. His teeth were white and straight, and his smile was kind. And genuine. “I’ve started shopping. By myself.”

“That’s a good thing?”

“I hadn’t bought my own clothes in ten years.”

She crinkled her brow. “What?”

“Caroline bought everything. Even my shoes.”

Grace was shocked at that. Tyler would never have dreamed of letting someone else buy his clothes. The problem was, he never knew when to quit buying them for himself. “You didn’t even buy your own shoes? Who lets someone else buy their shoes?”

“A man who has no idea who he is or what he wants or what he was created to do. But . . .” He ran his hands down the front of his outfit. “I bought this all by myself.”

She stepped back and studied him. “I’d say you never need to let a woman do your shopping again. You have done perfectly fine by yourself.”

“So what about you?”

“What do you mean? I buy my own clothes.”

“No, I mean, what are you doing that is different from what you used to do?”

Her eyes scanned the room. “I’m opening a business. And eavesdropping. And apparently beginning to say whatever is on
my mind. I even let Rachel have it the other day. Not one of my better moments, but it was good for both of us.”

“That’s not the Grace who sat in my office—what was it, five months ago?”

“Something like that. And nope, I’m not the same—not in the least.” She motioned toward two white folding chairs that sat on either side of a table. “Want to sit?”

“Sure.” He pulled out a chair.

She pulled the other out for herself and smiled as she sat. She was glad he had stayed.

He leaned forward, knees on elbows. “So tell me, how did you know?”

He must have noticed her puzzled look. “How did you know when it was over?”

She pulled her feet up onto the chair, wrapped her arms around her legs, and thought for a minute. How could she describe it? “It’s hard to explain. It was something deep inside, like I’d finally been released. Like God had released me. I didn’t make a move toward divorce until I was sure of that. I prayed some very specific prayers. And God answered them.”

“Like, just . . . answered them?”

She shrugged. “It’s not like I heard this deep voice from heaven. But yeah, he definitely answered. He knew what would release me. He knows me better than anyone.”

She paused, remembering. “I would have stayed, you know. If I believed that was what God was calling me to, I would have stayed with Tyler forever. But that wasn’t what needed to happen. It was clear. My marriage was over.

“No one has to tell me why God hates divorce,” she added. “I know. I hate it too. And there are still days when my heart
longs for nothing more than for my marriage to be put back together. But Tyler has made it clear that he cannot or won’t deal with his stuff, and I can’t do that for him, and I can’t live the way we were living. So I am doing everything I can to deal with my own stuff and heal my heart and learn how to find my voice again, and I will trust God to write the rest of my story as he’s written the beginning.”

He looked down and ran his fingers along the sides of his cup. “I don’t know if I trust God like you do. I certainly don’t feel released, but I can’t see how Caroline and I can ever patch things up either. I just don’t know what I need to do next, where to go from here.”

“So what is the worst that can happen?”

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know. I was outed in public by my wife—in church, no less. I am living alone. My children are broken. My wife is broken. I’m broken.” As he spoke, she could see the revelation in his eyes. “I just don’t want to see my girls grow up in a broken home. I know I don’t want that for them.”

“I’m sure you don’t. No one wants that for their children.”

“But I’m a better dad now. I do know that.”

She smiled. She couldn’t help it.

“What? What are you smiling at?”

“The way you said that. There is an innocence about it, Zach. About you.”

“Me?” He laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, I mean it. It’s like you are discovering so much for the first time. Just like I am.”

He leaned forward, the blue in his eyes even brighter. “It’s true that I’ve learned more about myself these past few months
than I have in years. I think that’s one reason Caroline’s so worked up these days. She doesn’t know what to do with me.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“For her it is. She’s used to me giving in just to keep the peace.” He must have noticed her smirk. “Takes one to know one.”

She raised her hand. “My name is Grace, and I am a people pleaser.”