The Scarlet Thread (48 page)

“Audra told me.” She fumbled in the cabinet for coffee and filters.

“Audra? I didn’t think you even spoke to her anymore.”

“We get together for lunch every few weeks.”

“Since when?” he said in surprise.

She measured coffee. “Since I took her to lunch and apologized.”

Alex came over and sat on a stool on the other side of the

breakfast counter. She could feel him looking at her. Like a bug

under glass. She poured water into the coffeemaker, refusing to

look back at him.

“What do you and Audra talk about?” he said carefully.

“We don’t talk about you, Alex. That was one of the first ground

rules I laid down.” She shrugged. “She broke it last week.”

“Did she tell you what happened?”

“She said Elizabeth quit and went back East.”

“I moved out after the little altercation with Clanton.”

“Can we talk about something else, please?” she said, uncomfortable. She didn’t want to hear about his love affair with Elizabeth Longford. She didn’t want to hear about his broken heart.

She didn’t want to hear about how difficult things were for him.

She wanted him to get to the point and leave so she could breathe

normally again.

“I want to spend more time with my children.”

Here it comes,
she thought.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly.

“I’m not giving you custody, Alex. Whatever it said in those

papers I signed and gave you, I’m not—”

He lifted his hands. “Relax. I’m not asking for that. I wouldn’t.

They’re happy with you. I just want . . .” His voice trailed off, and

he uttered a soft curse, dragging his hands back through his hair.

He looked at her again, and she noticed the lines around his eyes

and mouth, the unveiled pain in his eyes. “I just want a chance to

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be a part of their lives again. A couple of hours on Friday with

Carolyn and a few on Saturday with Clanton isn’t enough.”

She almost reminded him that was more than he’d spent with

them
before
he left her and moved in with Elizabeth.

Lord, keep me silent. Make my words sweet. Help me see his side of

things more clearly and with more compassion than I have in the past.

Give me your eyes, Father.

Alex searched her face when she said nothing. Turning her

back on him, she took two mugs down from the cupboard

and filled them with coffee. She didn’t invite him back into

the living room. She liked having the breakfast bar between

them.

“Thanks,” he said flatly and put his hands around the mug as

though to warm them. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him

nervous before.

“You can see the children whenever you want, Alex. As long

as you don’t prevent them from continuing what they’re doing.”

“Such as?” he said, eyes narrowed slightly.

“They both go to church youth group on Wednesday nights.”

“Which church?”

The issue of religion had never been important to either of

them. Now, it was of tantamount importance to her. “The church

where we were playing baseball.”

He thought about it for a minute, troubled. “Mama said you

went to Mass with my father.”

“The children went to catechism in Windsor.”

“I know. Are they still going?”

O God, help me. I don’t want to start a war with Alex, but I want my

children to have a personal relationship with you. I don’t want them to

have to go through a priest or be bound by guilt or penitence.

“No,” she said, clasping her own mug between both hands as

he had done. “We’re happy in this church, Alex.”

“You don’t think God’s in a Catholic church?”

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“I think God is wherever he chooses to be, Alex. Catholic or

Protestant, it doesn’t matter. When I sit with your father and

mother, I know they love the Lord as much as I do. They’ve

loved him longer and harder. But this church is where I found

my way home, Alex. It’s where the children are learning the

meaning of Christ’s love. These people aren’t just friends.

They’re like family. Dennis especially. I’d be dead and Clanton

still wouldn’t be speaking to you if not for him.”

He frowned heavily, eyes fixed on her. “What do you mean,
dead?”

She smiled, shaking her head at the memory. “Let’s just say I

was driving a little fast one day when Dennis pulled me over.

He’s a highway patrolman. He gave me my first and, I hope,
last

speeding ticket.”

He looked at her, his eyes intent, searching. “I’m sorry, Sierra.”

She knew he meant he was sorry about everything. “Don’t be.

It’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” If she hadn’t hit

rock bottom, would she have ever seen how much she needed the

Lord? Would she ever have been soft fertile soil for the seeds

that had been scattered throughout her life by a dozen different

people? Would she have ever understood Jesus’ love for her?

Alex got up and left the breakfast bar. She watched him move

around the living room. He paused before the quilt again and

rubbed the back of his neck. He had always done that when he

was past exhaustion or depressed about something. In their earlier years, she’d rubbed his back and told him how she loved him.

Often, they ended up in bed together, forgetting everything but

the pleasure they found in one another.

Her skin grew warm, remembering.

It was better not to think about those times.

“How would you feel if I leased a condo in this complex?”

Her heart stopped. “I beg your pardon?” she said weakly.

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Alex turned around and looked at her. “I said, how would you

feel if I leased a condo in this complex?”

She recognized that look. Double-barreled, point-blank determination.
“You
want to live in a
condo?”
She couldn’t believe he

would even suggest it. He wouldn’t even marry her until he had

found them a small house to rent.
“I don’t want to share walls with

someone else,”
he’d declared. She would have lived in a shack as

long as she could be with him.

His eyes never left her as he said, “There’s a condo available for

lease. I wanted to talk it over with you before I signed the papers.”

“You always swore you wouldn’t live in an apartment or

condo.”

Alex looked around the living room. “It’s bigger than I expected,

and I haven’t heard any noise while I’ve been in here today.”

“My neighbors are working.” Not that they made all that

much noise when they were home.

“Then you object.”

“I didn’t say that. I—” She closed her mouth, deciding she’d

better think before she went further. She felt a hint of panic stir.

It hurt every time she saw him. Was she going to have to see him

every
day? And what if he found some other woman to move in

with him? Or he started dating any one of a dozen attractive single women living in the complex? Or . . .

A hundred painful possibilities leaped into her mind, sending

shards of pain through her. What if . . . what if . . . what if . . . ?

Alex sat down on the stool again and clasped his hands loosely

on the breakfast counter. “I want to share the responsibility of

the children with you again. I could keep them when you wanted

to go out.”

“Out?” As in dating? Was he hoping to marry her off? Ron

would be delighted to know that.

“Clanton said you wanted to take a college class but didn’t

want to leave them home alone any more than you have to

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could leave the children with me.”

“It was an afternoon class, Alex. I was working.”

“You don’t have to work.”

“Yes, I do.”

His eyes darkened. “Not if you’d start accepting the money

I’ve been sending you, instead of doing whatever you’ve been

doing with the checks.”

“Live on alimony, you mean? No, thank you. Every time you

send me a check like that, I’m going to tear it up and flush it

down the toilet!”

“Why do you have to be so pigheaded stubborn?”

“Look who’s talking.” She tried to calm down. “Alex, I’ve seen

what living on alimony does to other women. Some of them can’t

get along without it. Or they feel they deserve more and more.

Cost-of-living increases. Petty vengeance. You want me hanging

around your neck like a millstone for the rest of your life? Alimony is as bad as welfare, and I want some self-respect out of

this whole mess. I may not be living in the fancy neighborhood

we used to, but I’m making it on my own. I’m
happy
here, and I’m

paying my
own
bills.”

“I should be paying for your support. We’ve been married

thirteen years.”

“We
were
married, and you can consider the debt forgiven.”

He started to say something and stopped. Letting out his

breath, he raked his hand back through his hair. “Look, I know

it’s because of what I said to you that day I called after seeing the

house in the real estate section. I hurt you.
Dios,
don’t you think I

know it?”

“Maybe it was that in the beginning,” she said frankly, “but not

anymore.” Covering her face, she took a breath and released it

slowly, trying to rein in her emotions. She lowered her hands

to her lap and looked him in the eye. “You mention money, Alex,

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and I see red. It was one of the buttons you used to push all the

time.”

“I have a few buttons of my own,” he said, eyes hot. “One of

them is the fact you won’t accept any kind of help from me. You

used to lean on me, Sierra.”

“Yes, I did. And look where that got us,” she said, feeling the

prick of tears. She swallowed and pressed her lips together, trying to think of words gentle enough, yet strong enough, to explain her position. “You’ve been very generous with the child

support, Alex, and I’m thankful. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Do you use any of it?” he said bitterly.

Heat filled her. Was he accusing her of misusing their money?

“I put it in their savings accounts,” she said, hurt and angry.

“Some of it I use for clothes. I have records of every cent you’ve

ever given them.”

“No doubt, but what about that private school? Why aren’t

they going anymore?”

“Because they hated it! Because Clanton was suspended

twice, and Carolyn was on the verge of ulcers trying to get

straight A’s.”

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”

“And if I had? What would you have done?”

“Tried to help!”

She searched his eyes, wondering if he really would have.

“What did you think I’d do, Sierra?”

She bit her lip and said nothing. She’d been so convinced he

would accuse her of being a rotten mother, the same way he’d

accused her of being a rotten wife. She’d been afraid to tell him,

ashamed she couldn’t fix things on her own.

“Talk to me, Sierra.”

“It doesn’t matter now. You were busy at the time.”

Color came into his face and a look of bleakness. “I’m not busy

now. I’m going to be working a lot less at the office. I’ve already

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