Authors: Deborah Bradford
The ladies piled inside Spilling the Beans on a September morning and removed their sunglasses, shoved aside their windblown
hair. Their eyes adjusted and (how could it be?) there were others chatting in their very private corner booth against the
window. Didn’t they know it was
Tuesday
? Didn’t they know they were sitting in someone’s seats?
They stood looking at one another, not knowing where to turn. They just sort of milled around for a few beats at the door,
waiting for someone to take charge. Maybe they expected Gina to march across the room, place her hands on her hips, and let
everyone know that this group of best friends had arrived. They were nurses or accountants or stay-at-home moms. Some had
gone through their kids’ graduations; some were newly divorced; one had a child in third grade. Some were Christians. A few
weren’t. There had been times the group had swelled in numbers, times those numbers had waned. They’d supported one another
for two and a half decades, over coffee at Spilling the Beans.
“
You’re in our spot, you’re not aware
,” Gina might have complained in one of her classic quips, “
said the table to the chair
.” But that wasn’t what Gina did at all. She headed toward the cash register and ordered a chocolate mocha latte.
With the ebbing of spring into summer, Gina had been taking some time off from the hospital. She’d told all of them she wanted
to give herself a seasonal makeover. She and her husband, Herb, had gone on a trip to a five-star resort in Branson. She’d
been straightening her hair and carrying a metallic satchel bag that she’d found at Bess & Loie. She looked about ten years
younger since she and Herb made that trip. And she picked a completely different table, one in the dead center of the shop.
It seemed they had a new location today. Which Hilary guessed meant that they had a whole new view of things.
Hilary made her way through the line, and while everyone else waited for steamed milk, shots of espresso, streams of spicy
flavoring, she gripped her cup of black coffee between two hands and stared at herself in the reflection. Even as they shuffled
through the line, Hilary’s empty-nest friends had their heads together, whispering. “That’s a great idea,” Fay was saying
beneath her breath. “We can use my house. We’ll make cookies and everyone can bring things to put inside care packages and
it’ll be a huge assembly line.”
Julie added, “We’ll do it next month after your kids all leave home. We’ll all do it. No matter if we have college freshmen
or not. All your kids will get care packages at the same time.”
Hilary saw Julie clamp her mouth tight when Hilary approached. Hilary didn’t blame her friends for changing the subject whenever
she joined the group. She knew they were trying hard to keep from reigniting the pain for her.
So you’ve been grieving all this time because your son was leaving for college, how is it that you can also grieve because
your son
isn’t
going to go yet?
“I’ll be there to help,” Hilary said.
Fay jumped in. “Oh, Hilary. I’m so sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, let me tell you!” Hilary couldn’t keep her newfound confidence from shining through.
“Really?” Fay asked. “What are Seth’s plans, Hil? What has he decided to do?”
Each time the door to Spilling the Beans swung open, new customers spilled in and joined the line. The proprietor had set
wrought-iron seats and umbrellas outside where members of the crowd could return to sip their coffee blends. The colors on
the umbrellas in the sunlight seemed to be throbbing.
“He’ll stay home this first semester,” Hilary said. “It was too late to apply anywhere else since he decided against Emhurst.”
“Oh, honey,” Gina said. “Are you okay with that?”
“I’m okay with whatever Seth is okay with,” Hilary said. “He’s applied for a paid position working with the kids at Clissold
House this fall.” The Clissold House was the center where Seth had completed his community service for the MUI, a center where
he’d mentored at-risk middle schoolers. Seth had told his mom that he could get the kids to really talk to him when they were
out on the court shooting hoops, their feet dancing across the pavement, their shirts soaked with sweat. He came home every
night exhausted, and feeling he’d accomplished something.
Kim asked, “So he decided against Emhurst?”
“He did.” Hilary’s voice held steady. She felt certain of their future now, although it looked different than she’d once imagined.
“Emhurst was too expensive without the scholarship. That’s what started us talking about it. And it turned out that Seth had
never really been sure of that school anyway. He’d agreed to it because he thought it would satisfy
me
.”
“Oh, Hil,” Donna said.
“He’s been accepted to the University of Illinois for the spring semester. Pam and Eric are helping him with tuition. He’s
filled out the FAFSA to see if he’s eligible for any grants or subsidized student loans.”
Fay touched her hand. “Honey, that’s so great.”
“He’ll have some catching up to do. He and Remy will be rooming together. And next year maybe they’ll find an apartment.”
“That sounds terrifying,” Julie said.
“It
is
terrifying,” Hilary agreed. “But I’m fine with it. We’ll see how well they do. Whatever happens, they’ll learn from it.”
“
This
is the party we’re going to talk about,” Gina said. She was carrying a lemon bar with a lit candle stuck in the center of
it. She set the plate in front of Julie while the crowd of coffee drinkers, including the ones in their corner booth, launched
into a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Of course the part of the song where everyone sings the name was left blank
because nobody knew her name except for her friends.
“It’s
Julie
!” Fay shouted to everyone. “Her name is
Julie
.”
Which made the people in the next booth sing it again. “Happy Birthday, dear
Jooo-lie
.”
Hilary would still have a difficult good-bye with her son when the time came. But it would be so different now than it would
have been before. This schedule seemed right; it would give Seth time to heal. He’d have time for more sessions with his therapist.
And whenever Seth needed to blow off steam or when he wanted to have one of his talking binges, Hilary would be there to listen.
Who, except the Lord, knew where each day was going to take them?
Show me, Father,
when I can love my son most by getting involved. Show me when I can love him most by standing back.
In the morning, when Hilary worshipped, her heart touched on truth, that this pain of letting her son go could give her a
hint, a finger touch, as if she were trying out the pain of a bruise, of what it must have been like for God to let Jesus
come to earth. And yet…his love for us. His willingness to allow Jesus scorn, pain, separation.
Sometimes at night, when no one could see or hear her, Hilary still cried. Those were the times when the only prayer she could
choke out was an exhausted,
Help. Oh, help. Please help us
. And every time, her Heavenly Father proved that he would.
Seth had found Hilary a few hours ago while she’d been wrapping Julie’s birthday present. She had mitered the corners, taped
the flaps on each end, and stretched the yarn lengthwise to make sure the bow would come out even. She was right in the middle
of tying the first loop, pulling it taut, when Seth’s finger landed on the yarn to keep it from slipping.
Hilary had pulled the knot tight and Seth had yanked his finger out just in time. He smiled and asked, “You okay, Mom?”
Hilary considered her answer. “Yes. I’m okay.”
“You know,” he said as he settled into the bed pillows to talk. “I’ve got to thank you for something.”
Hilary had been rummaging in the drawer to find a pen to sign Julie’s card. She lifted her eyes to his.
“You’re the coolest mom.”
“Me?” Hilary asked, feigning surprise. “You’re talking about me?”
“Mom. Quit joking around. I’m serious. You know you’re cool. All my friends tell you that.”
“Is that what you’re thanking me for?”
“No.”
“Well, what then?”
“I’m thanking you for the way you look at me.”
Hilary narrowed her eyes at him, confused.
“It’s been different lately.”
“How so?”
“You look at me like I’m your son. But you also look like I’m a grown-up who has to take care of myself. Like you trust me
enough that your emotions aren’t riding on me all the time.”
Hilary shot him a little salute. “For noticing how I’m making progress I give you
my
thanks.”
“It’s like I don’t have to be the one to make life come out all right for you anymore.”
And Hilary couldn’t help thinking,
This is what comes in the end, isn’t it?
Because, before, her prayers had only been the night prayers:
Help me get through this, God. Show me how to handle what comes tomorrow.
And now she had the morning prayers, too.
Oh, Father. I couldn’t have done this alone. Oh, Father. Thank you for changing me.
Not long after Seth and Hilary took their voyage on the four-masted topsail schooner, he started bugging Hilary for another
trip. Only this time he wanted to go when his father had flown into town. He wanted to show Ben how to trim the sails. He
wanted to hold Lily and help her take a turn at the wheel. Which meant he also wanted Pam to stand on the deck during the
voyage, he wanted her to feel the sails being silently pushed by the wind. He wanted Eric’s other wife to stand in this place
where Hilary first began to find so much peace.
So, on a blustery fall day after they’d convinced the entire Wynn family to return to Chicago and visit them again, on a day
after most of the senior class had departed and Seth’s part-time job was under way, the entire family boarded the boat. Pam
had signed the kids up for an educational program, which included their captain giving ten-minute talks on maritime history,
sailing, maritime arts, physics, navigation, and seamanship.
“Mom,” Seth teased Hilary. “How come I never got to do anything like this for school?”
Hilary swatted him on the behind with her sweater. “You got to do plenty of cool things in school. Don’t rile me up.”
Overhead, the sails were beginning to unfurl. Eric stood on the starboard side, watching Chicago slip past. They all held
their breath as they stared up at the masts, watching while wind inflated the sails. Once the sails were set, the engine was
turned off. Silence, all was beautiful silence, as the prow sliced through the water and their course was chosen.
Seth lifted Lily and she gripped the wheel with tiny, knobby fists. “I’m driving!” she shrieked. “I’m making us go where I
want us to go!”
Hilary’s son kissed Lily on the top of the head. “That’s what you think, munchkin.”
Ben craned his neck and peered straight up through the riggings at the flags while the captain explained to him what each
of them meant. Eric turned to Hilary and smiled. She knew what he was thinking. He was thinking how, here they were, the entire
Wynn family, the first wife and the second, all these kids, crashing forward through the waves of Lake Michigan, with their
faces turned into the wind.
When Hilary looked for Pam, she found her at the bow of the boat, looking straight out over the open water. The spray was
splashing toward her. She was getting wet, but she wasn’t flailing or backing away. She was letting it soak her. She was wearing
maternity jeans with a placket of stretch knit at the front. And the knit was stretching. Her pregnancy was starting to show.
Lake water glistened on her neck.
After Hilary joined her Pam said, “I wish this could last forever.” And Hilary was thinking,
Maybe it will, Pam. Maybe it will
.
Hilary reached across the gap between them and took her hand.
F
or a long time, I’ve been intrigued by the story of Hannah in the Bible. The account of Hannah’s life, as she aches to have
a baby, as her husband’s other wife constantly reminds her that she isn’t good enough, is often overshadowed by the stories
of her son. God had bigger plans for Hannah than the woman who provoked her. When at last Hannah gave birth to a child, a
boy named Samuel, she handed him over to God. Samuel became one of the greatest prophets ever to lead Israel.
My favorite part is how Hannah’s circumstances don’t change, but
she
changes. Hannah must learn to trust God
before
he changes the situation around her. She finds her peace
before
she sees any evidence that her family relationships might get any easier. Hilary needs to learn the same lesson that Hannah
did. Having Hilary go through feelings of shame, of not being a good mom, of having to prove herself to another woman who
is constantly judging her, seemed a good way to parallel the two women’s lives. This is how
His Other Wife
was born.
Writing a contemporary novel based on a biblical character is no easy job! I felt God leading me to tell this story although
there were times I wanted to give up! Many thanks to my two amazing editors, Anne Goldsmith Horch and Christina Boys, for
their meticulous work over the past two years and for helping me make this novel the best it can be.
It can be so hard to feel peaceful when everything around you is in turmoil. In the middle of difficult times, if you invite
God to take charge of the situation, you can trust this: What happens in the end will be for good.
At the end of this story in the Bible, Hannah says a prayer. She says, “My heart rejoices in the
LORD
; in the
LORD
my horn is lifted high. My mouth boasts over my enemies, for I delight in your deliverance.”
Know this: If you seek peace from Jesus Christ and not from the world around you, you will be like Hilary and Hannah. You
will always be able to boast over your enemies. You can rejoice and delight in the Lord.
I love to hear from my readers. You can e-mail me at
[email protected]
. Check out my Web page at
www.deborahbedfordbooks.com
or join us on
www.facebook.com
(Deborah Bedford and/or Deborah Bedford Fans).
Delighting and rejoicing right along with you,
Deborah