Redemption (20 page)

A tear fell on Kari’s jeans, and she sniffed. “I just want things to be right with Tim and me.” More tears trickled down Kari’s cheeks. She offered Brooke a pitiful smile.

“Hey.” Brooke squeezed Kari’s hand. “I love you, even if I think you’re crazy.”

“I know.” Kari wiped her cheeks with her fingertips. “I love you too.”

Peter came bounding down the stairs and stopped short when he saw the two of them, Kari crying and Brooke huddled close by her.

Brooke was the first to speak. “Ready?” She gave Kari a final squeeze, stood, and flashed her husband a look that seemed to stop him from asking questions.

“Ready.”

“We’ll be back before eleven.” Brooke gazed upstairs once more. “Don’t worry about Maddie. The medicine should hold her over until after we get back. But if you get worried, you can page me.”

Kari listened as Brooke and Peter pulled away. When they were gone, she drew the shades and plopped on the sofa. Now everyone in her family knew the truth.

“You’ll be fine, Kari Baxter,” Ashley had told her, giving her a heartfelt hug. “Being a single mom’s not so bad.”

Kari winced now at the memory of how those words had stung her heart. She was
not
a single mom. And she wasn’t Kari Baxter; she was Kari Jacobs. For better or worse, until death took one of them from the other. Why was everyone having such a hard time understanding that?

Tim would come around . . . he had to.

Or maybe they were struggling with it because deep in the center of her heart, she was struggling too.

She thought about how often she’d called his university office today. Several times during his office hours and at least once between each class. Times when the old Tim would have been at his desk.

Each time, the phone rang once, then kicked into the main office of the journalism department. Kari’s first call had been at eight this morning.

“Journalism.” The terse voice belonged to Eleanore, the blunt secretary who had served in the position for three decades.

Kari did not try to disguise her voice. “Hi, it’s Kari Jacobs.” She wondered if everyone in the department knew about Tim’s affair. “Is my husband around? He should be in his office, but he’s not picking up.”

“I haven’t seen him, Mrs. Jacobs.” Eleanore paused. “I’ll tell him you called. Or I could give you his voice mail.”

Kari was dying to ask more questions, find out if Tim was openly carrying on with his girlfriend or whether he was keeping his private life a secret from others in the department. But she stopped herself. What good could come from asking such a question? Besides, there was no guarantee she’d get the truth. Eleanore had always had a soft spot for Tim; her allegiance was bound to be with him and not Kari.

She had opted for leaving Tim a voice mail. Over the course of the day, she left a series of them, with no response.

When she was unable to reach her husband, she called Pastor Mark and made an appointment to see him the following day.

“Is everything okay?” The pastor sounded concerned.

“Well—” Kari’s voice broke, and it took a moment before she could continue—“not really.”

“I’m sorry, Kari.” Pastor Mark waited.

“Tim . . .” She swallowed back the sobs that seemed always ready to burst to the surface. “He moved out a few weeks ago.”

Kari could hear the pastor exhale, as if the news made a physical impact on him. “Will he come with you tomorrow?”

A sob slipped from her throat, and she struggled to regain control. “He moved in with another woman. I haven’t talked to him since he left.”

Before the phone call ended, Pastor Mark prayed for her and assured her that God still loved her and was looking out for her, that he would redeem even this seemingly impossible circumstance. They set the appointment for Tuesday at noon. “I’d like it if Tim would come,” he told Kari. “Keep trying to reach him.”

Kari got up and checked on Brooke’s daughters. Now, with the girls asleep and a lonely night ahead of her, Kari’s anger was back. The emotions that had washed over her since Tim moved out seemed to change as often as the tide. One hour she’d miss her husband so badly her chest would ache. Then she’d imagine him with the other woman, and suddenly she’d be angry enough to do something crazy—like send a letter about the situation to the university’s ethics board or find him and pound her fists against his chest.

On top of that she was pregnant, her body steeped in rising hormones. There seemed to be no balance, no even-keeled moments; she’d even been getting heart palpitations lately.

Kari exhaled slowly. No matter what he’d done by having the affair, Kari missed Tim so badly it hurt to breathe. She needed him to walk through the door, take her in his arms, and tell her it was all a nightmare, that he wasn’t in love with someone else and that, in fact, he would love her until the day he died.

“Where is he, Lord?” She whispered the question out loud. “Why didn’t he answer my calls?”

She thought about Pastor Mark’s final comment.
I’d like it if Tim would come
.

Slowly an idea began to form. Why not call him at Angela’s apartment? So what if it was awkward? If she was going to fight for her marriage, she would have to endure some awkwardness. Who knew? Maybe the phone call would help bring him to his senses.

Kari braced herself against the kitchen counter and stared at the telephone. She remembered the woman’s name; it had been hovering in her mind since she’d received the anonymous call the day before Tim left.

Angela Manning.

How many Mannings could possibly be listed in the city of Bloomington? Kari’s heart beat faster in response. She reached for the phone, dialed information, and was connected with an operator.

“For what city?”

“In Bloomington, the number for Angela Manning, on South Maple.”

“Hold for your number.” In three seconds Kari had the number for an A. Manning at an address that had to be the Silverlake Apartments. She scribbled it on a notepad near the phone and stared at it for nearly a minute. Her breathing was shallow and fast, and she felt faint. But there was no other way to find him.

She punched the numbers quickly before she could change her mind. A woman answered on the second ring.

“Hello?” She sounded older than twenty-four.

“Yes.” Kari cleared her throat.
Help me, Lord . . . give me the words.
“I’m looking for Tim Jacobs.”

The woman said nothing.

Kari felt her courage building. What did she have to fear? She wasn’t the one having an affair, after all. She could call her husband if she wanted to. “I said I’m looking for Tim Jacobs. Is he there?”

“Who is this?”

The anger was returning. “This is his wife. Who’s
this?”

Again the woman was silent, but Kari heard her set the phone down, and after nearly a minute Tim picked it up with a huff. “Kari?”

She wasn’t prepared for the warring emotions that came over her at the sound of his voice. Should she cry and beg him to come home or curse him for leaving? Kari closed her eyes and prayed for strength. “Hello, Tim.” Her voice shook, and she felt nauseous. “We need to talk.”

Tim’s voice was furious. “What are you thinking, calling me here? Did Eleanore give you the number? I can’t believe she’d do that to me.”

That answered one question; the journalism department definitely knew about his affair. Kari held back the tears and clenched her fists. “No . . . the operator gave it to me. I know who she is, Tim. There’s no other A. Manning listed.”

He lowered his voice. “Listen, there’s a time and place to talk about things, Kari, and this is neither.”

Kari could barely catch her breath from the shock of Tim’s attitude.
He isn’t even a little sorry, God. What am I supposed to say?

“I tried calling you at work all day, and you weren’t in your office.” Kari blinked her eyes and felt the first tears spill onto her cheeks. “I left you eight messages.”

A frustrated sigh sounded in Kari’s ear. “I was going to call you in a few days. You’re right. We need to talk.”

Kari noticed that her husband’s words were not slurred, and she felt the slightest bit of relief. “I’m meeting with Pastor Mark tomorrow.” Kari shielded her eyes with her free hand and gripped her forehead with her thumb and forefinger. “He asked if you’d come.”

“What?” For the first time since he’d gotten on the phone, Tim’s voice held traces of weary sadness. “Kari, give it up. Please. I want a divorce, not a counseling appointment. For God’s sake, I’m living with Angela.”

The tears came harder, and she sobbed softly, searching for her voice. “It’s for God’s sake that I want you to come with me tomorrow. I’m still your wife, Tim. We can work through this.”

Tim sounded exasperated. “We should’ve gotten counseling a year ago when I was so lonely that I didn’t even feel married.” He exhaled hard. “Look, I wanted to end things on good terms with you, Kari. But nothing you or anyone else might say could convince me to stay married. I’ve already moved on; it’s too late to turn back.”

“All I want is for you to give us a try.” Kari was weeping openly now. “Is that too much to ask, Tim? After all we’ve shared?”

“And all I want is a divorce.” He sucked in a breath, and Kari thought he sounded tired. “Quickly, quietly, and without fanfare. The same way other couples get divorced.” Tim’s tone had turned cold as winter wind. “Is
that
too much to ask? After all we’ve shared?”

Kari’s pain turned to raging fury. “I don’t know what kind of monster you’ve become or what you’ve done with the man I still love, but I know this much—” She shook with fury, her fists so tight the fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. She opened them then, spreading her fingers out against her still flat abdomen. “I will never give you a divorce. Our baby deserves more than that.”

Without saying another word, Kari slammed the receiver back on the base. There. Let him chew on that while he slept in Angela Manning’s arms tonight. She relaxed her hands and went back to the living-room sofa, where she lay on her side and felt the anger drain from her body. In its place was an odd sense of detachment, as if her body and emotions had gone numb.

She sat up, replaying her conversation with Tim. She would have given anything to see him try to explain the phone call to Angela, all the while hiding the panic he had to be feeling now that he knew he was to be a father. He’d have to be frantic with concern, desperate to talk to her. She’d probably get back to her parents’ house that night and find a dozen messages from him.

But then she gave a single, bitter laugh, remembering the hurtful things he’d said and the chill in his voice.

Who was she kidding?

Tim didn’t want counseling or conversation. He had no interest in making things work between them. He was never going to come around—he probably didn’t even want the baby. She wrapped her arms protectively around her midsection. Ashley was right. They’d be single mothers together, and Kari’s dream of helping other married couples would always be just that.

A dream.

Still feeling strangely empty, she glanced idly around the room. On a low shelf across from her she spotted what looked like a scrapbook. Funny. She hadn’t remembered that Brooke liked to work on scrapbooks. Kari wiped her fingertips under her eyes and wearily made her way over to the bookcase. The scrapbook was bound in leather and weighed a ton. Kari carried it back to the sofa and opened it to the first page.

There in fancy lettering were the words
The Five of Us.

Kari knit her brows and flipped through the book, stunned at what it held. Somehow amidst studying for medical exams and raising a family, Brooke had found time to put together a scrapbook of the Baxter kids and their lives growing up. Brooke, who in recent years had become little more than a nonbeliever? The Baxter daughter who seemed absorbed in her medical training and elitist lifestyle? That same Brooke kept a scrapbook of their childhood?

Kari and the other siblings never would have guessed that Brooke gave them more than a passing thought. But if she kept this book, she must have cared more than any of them knew.

Kari turned the pages back to the beginning and savored the memories as they came. She and Brooke on tricycles some long-ago Sunday morning before church. Kari felt the corners of her mouth lift as she remembered how close the two of them had been back then. But not because they were similar—though when they were little their mother tended to dress them alike, and people sometimes did mistake them for twins. Actually, from the beginning their likes and dislikes had been totally different. For that reason there was no leader, no follower in their relationship. They almost never argued and were always a help to each other. They shared the same values and saw most things eye to eye.

Way back then, anyway.

She flipped another page and saw a photo of the four girls together when Erin was only a baby. The family was picnicking at the lake—something they did often. Dad had made it clear that, though he often was on call and sometimes away for conventions and medical seminars, he would always find time for his family. There had been family softball games at Monroe County Park, boating at the lake, trips into Indianapolis to see plays and concerts.

Theirs had been the kind of family Kari imagined she would have one day.

She shook her head and turned the page, only to burst out laughing. There stood Kari and Brooke and Ashley at nine, ten, and six, their arms wrapped around each other, standing in front of their family tent in just their underwear. The family had been swimming when Daniel, their shaggy dog, had dragged the duffel bag into the lake, submerging their clothes.

“I know,” Kari had said as everyone stood about the campsite, slack-jawed. “Our underwear’s in Mom and Dad’s bag!”

Brooke’s eyes danced as she caught on. “Right.”

Ashley giggled and followed Kari and Brooke into the tent, and three minutes later the girls piled out in only their underwear—ready to tackle the day.

We were so silly back then . . . not a care in the world.

A few more pages, and she saw Ashley pulling Luke in an old red wagon. Kari smiled and ran her finger lightly over their young faces.
Where’d you go to, Ash? A part of you got lost in Paris. What happened there, anyway?