War Room (22 page)

“There’s ways around that.”

“Tony, you’ve got to take these back.” She said it with conviction and with the knowledge that she was right.

“Liz, I could be prosecuted for this.”

The weight of his words fell on her.

Tony stood and walked around the garage like a caged
lion. “Look, I’ve already lost my job. So now I’m supposed to go and tell Danielle her daddy might be going to jail?”

Ask him a question,
she thought.
Draw him out. Find out what’s going on underneath the bravado.

“Then why are you struggling?” she said, letting the question hang there between them.

He stared at the box, then at the garage floor, anywhere but at her face. She’d rarely seen this look. Tony was always the take-charge, move-ahead, swing-for-the-fences kind of guy. Now he seemed caught in a rundown between bases, and the one running after him was God.

“Because I know God is telling me to take them back,” Tony said, slumping down into the lawn chair again.

“Sounds like you know what you want to do, then.”

“Not what I want to do. What I need to do. What I have to do.”

Elizabeth pulled out a chair and sat beside him, studying the boxes of medication. “What kind of a drug is it?”

“Predizim. It’s a stimulant. It’s not oxycodone or anything like that. It’ll keep you awake. Kind of like several of those energy drinks in one little pill.”

“Did you sell them?”

He looked down. “About a year ago I got this idea after a box got stuck at the bottom of my sample case. Right after I signed the Bradley deal.”

“You were so excited about that.”

“Yeah, until they gave me a lowball bonus. The company is making billions and they reward the guys out there
selling with peanuts. That’s what went through my mind
 
—I’m not saying it was right.”

“I understand,” she said.

“So I saw this as a way to make a few extra bucks on the side. To make up for the bonuses.”

“How did you do it?”

Tony explained how he’d rearranged the cartons that held eight boxes and kept two for himself. “I put them in their supply closets and had the doctor sign for it. Doctors never took the time to check the numbers. That’s what I thought.”

“But who did you sell the extra bottles to?”

Tony’s face fell. “I found a pharmacist who bought them under the table. He gave me a couple of other names in a couple other cities. But the biggest market for this is a college campus. Kids cramming for a test, writing papers in the middle of the night, they thrive on this.”

“You sold these to college kids?”

“It’s not like I stood on the street corner and peddled them. I’d find one or two people on campus and supply them. I’m not proud of this. It makes me sick now.”

“I know,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re telling me. I think it’s a good step.”

“I couldn’t say this to the pastor. Or anybody.”

“No wonder you’re out here. The weight of this must be . . .”

He nodded. “And the weight of telling it feels just as bad. I thought when I gave my life to God, things would
get easier. I thought I’d hit bottom. But if they prosecute me, I could go to prison.”

Tony was right
 
—there was a lot to lose by going back, but something inside Elizabeth rose up. Doing the right thing was always the best route to take, even if it hurt. She wanted to say something, tell him what he had to do, and then she thought of Clara and the mistakes she said she’d made in trying to change her husband.

Elizabeth stood and looked at him with concern and love, putting a hand on his arm. “Tony, you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. I can get Clara praying. And when that woman prays, things happen.”

“I’ve been praying about it all night,” Tony said.

She took his hand. “Lord Jesus, You know the struggle that Tony has. You know the indecision, the shame, the pain of his choices. I pray You would remind him right now of whose child he is. And that when You look at him, You see the perfection of Your Son, Jesus. Thank You that You have conquered sin. Thank You that the evil one is not in control. Give Tony the courage to do what You’re asking him to do, in Your timing.”

Before Elizabeth could say, “Amen,” Tony’s voice echoed through the garage.

“Jesus, help me,” he prayed. “Please, Lord. Help me do the right thing.”

A short time after Tony’s turnaround,
Elizabeth called with an urgent request. “I can’t go into detail, Clara, but Tony confessed something. And we both believe he needs to do something really difficult.”

“That’s good. That means God is working in his heart and changing him from the inside out. This is not just about getting his family back. He really wants to obey God. This is wonderful!”

“It doesn’t feel so wonderful because . . . there could be repercussions.”

“You hang in there and give the repercussions to the Lord,” Clara said.

After she got off the phone, Clara recalled something she’d told Elizabeth in one of their earliest meetings. “Once the power of God is unleashed in a life, things don’t stay the same. And that’s what prayer does, it unleashes the power of God. You see, prayer is not about getting things right. You don’t get your prayers answered because you kneel in just the right spot or say just the right words.”

“But you have your war room,” Elizabeth had said.

Clara nodded. “That’s where I feel closest to God. But I can pray by the birdbath just as well.”

Elizabeth’s next question that day had been a meaty one:
Why pray at all?

“If God knows everything and if He’s working out His will in the world, what’s the point?”

“Mm-hmm,” Clara said. “The answer to that question is simple, but not easy. We pray because God tells us to. He commands us to. So we obey. And John says whenever we ask anything according to God’s will, He hears us. So why would God ask us to do something that makes no difference? That’s really your question.”

“Right. But you do believe it makes a difference.”

“I do or I wouldn’t waste my time or the cartilage in my knees.”

Elizabeth laughed.

“Prayer brings us closer to the heart of God. It opens your heart to those around you and makes you long for what He longs for. And it’s clear from the first page to the
last that God does respond to the requests of His people. I don’t pretend to understand it, but it’s true.”

With those words in her mind, Clara danced to her war room, telling Satan he was losing big-time because God was on the move. She prayed for courage for Tony and peace for Elizabeth’s heart. She prayed that the victories would begin to come in a hurry.

Tony rode the elevator to the forty-seventh floor
of the Brightwell building in Charlotte. The security guard at the front desk had called upstairs and someone in the office had given him clearance. It was weird not having an access key, but that was the price of his indiscretion.

His stomach was in a knot when the door opened. Almost as big a knot as after his dinner with Veronica, but this time he didn’t feel sick. This was a good tension, if there was such a thing. Humiliation mixed with determination.

He walked into the offices and several people glanced at him, then turned away. He stopped at Julia’s desk outside Coleman Young’s office. She did a double take when she saw him and reached for the phone.

“It’s okay,” Tony said. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’d just like to speak with Coleman. Five minutes is all I need and then I’ll be going.”

Something about his demeanor, or maybe it was something he said with his eyes, convinced Julia he was sincere and didn’t pose a threat. She looked down the hall and held up a finger for him to wait.

Julia walked toward the conference room. Tony strained to hear the conversation but only heard Coleman say, “Do you know what he wants?”

Tony sat in the waiting area, cradling the box of samples on his lap like a child waiting to see the principal. He held the incriminating evidence
 
—or did the evidence hold him?

Just dump the box down the trash chute and be done with this,
the voice in his head said.
You don’t have to do this.

Julia’s high heels clicked on the tile floor. “Tony, Coleman’s waiting for you in the conference room.”

He thanked her, then took the long walk down the hallway. It felt like walking to an execution, even more so when he saw Coleman and Tom in the conference room. Coleman’s face was stern. Tom looked at him like he was week-old roadkill.

Tony set the box down. Coleman was on one side of the table and Tom on the other, a wide gulf between them.

“Coleman, Tom,” Tony said, his voice shaky. “Look, I appreciate you guys meeting with me. I just need to bring something back that belongs to the company. And apologize for taking it.”

“What’s in the box?” Tom said, breaking the awkward silence.

Tony lifted the top, revealing the stolen Predizim. Tom walked over and picked up a bottle. When he spoke, it was with the same accusing voice Tony had heard in his head.

“So you weren’t just padding your numbers. You were stealing samples. And then selling them, is that right?”

Tony nodded.

“Let me get this straight,” Tom continued. “We give you a high salary with awards and benefits and trips. And you decide to thank us by taking even more for yourself? Do you realize we could have you prosecuted for this?”

“Tom,” Coleman said, interrupting. His voice calmed the room somewhat and Tom turned away.

Coleman stared at the box as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He moved closer to Tony and sat on the edge of the table. “Why would you bring this in now?”

Tony swallowed hard. “Because I’ve needed to confess what I’ve done. And ask for your forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness, oh, that’s rich,” Tom said, laughing. “How long have you been doing this? How much money did you make?”

“About nineteen thousand.”

“Nineteen thousand,” Tom said, obviously not believing him. “Is that all? Really?”

“Tom,” Coleman said, calling off the dogs again. He looked at Tony with a measure of pity and disbelief. “Tony,
it doesn’t make sense to do this after you’ve already been terminated.”

“I realize that. But, Coleman, I needed a wake-up call. I had the job, I had the income, but I was losing everything else. I’ve gotten right with my family, and I’ve gotten right with God. But I need to get right with you. So I’m ready to accept whatever decision you make.”

“Including arrest?” Coleman said slowly.

“Whatever the consequence.”

“Well, that makes it easier for us,” Tom said quickly. “Coleman, it’s time to call the authorities.”

“Not yet,” Coleman said. He studied Tony’s face and paused. “Tony, are you willing to sign a statement?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“Then I want two days to think about it.”

“Two days?” Tom said, incredulous.

“Yes,” Coleman said, his eyes still trained on Tony. “You’ll hear from me by then.”

Tony glanced at Tom. Steam wasn’t boiling from his bow tie, but it probably wouldn’t be long.

“Thank you,” Tony said and slowly walked out of the Brightwell office. He wondered if the next time he saw Coleman or Tom would be in a courtroom.

Elizabeth prayed for Tony as she turned the jump rope for Danielle and Jennifer. So much of their marriage the past few years had been separate. He had gone his way, she
had gone hers. She had convinced herself that he couldn’t change, that he was stuck in all the patterns of life. She, of course, hadn’t seen the ways she had been stuck. You never see your own face until you look into something reflecting it, but it sure is easy to see the flaws in everyone else.

Elizabeth had wondered through the years if she’d married the wrong man. Why hadn’t she seen Tony’s ways of handling problems when she was younger? Why had she pushed down the warning signs and told herself she could change him?

The truth was, God had done in a few weeks what she had tried to do for sixteen years. And God had done the same thing in her.

“When’s Daddy getting back?” Danielle said when they took a breather.

“Should be any minute,” Elizabeth said.

“Good. I want him to do the ropes so we both can jump.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in her. Danielle had seen the new Tony and accepted him and believed he would jump into her life. She didn’t hold back trusting him. Elizabeth wanted that same kind of trust
 
—not to act on what had happened in the past and the old wounds that still hurt, but to believe the best and treat him as though he had always treated her kindly.

“Danielle, when he gets back, we’re likely going to need to talk. He had an important meeting today.”

“But he’s going to jump on our team,” she said.

“He is?” Elizabeth said.

“He told us he can teach us a couple of moves we can use in the competition, too,” Jennifer said.

Elizabeth smiled at that. Tony was a good coach, a good motivator, a good salesman. He’d sold his daughter and her friend on the idea that they could win a competition that, by all accounts, was going to be quite competitive.

“Is he getting a new job?” Danielle said.

“He needs to find a new one, but this meeting isn’t about a job.”

Jennifer picked up the rope and Danielle got in the middle. Elizabeth and Jennifer swung as Danielle went through her part of the routine. They had endless energy and endless grace to give, it seemed. Maybe it was that childlike way of looking at life that Elizabeth needed. If she could forgive her husband and move on like Danielle had, her relationship with Tony would be a lot better.

She had prayed for him and watched God work on his heart, but there were still areas
 
—words he said, ways he looked at her
 
—that brought up the old wounds. In those moments she had to consciously tell herself the truth and act not on what she saw and the feelings stirred, but what she knew was happening inside of him, the change that was taking place. After all, she reacted in some old ways too. None of this was easy or quick. God hadn’t waved a magic wand over their marriage and made them all lovey-dovey. In fact, they hadn’t been intimate in weeks, maybe months, and part of that was the news Tony had shared about
Veronica. Though he hadn’t actually had an affair, Elizabeth felt little trust with him. But she could feel a thawing in their frozen relationship and the temperature rising between them. The pastor at their church had encouraged them to take things slow and go on dates together and let their relationship rekindle. That made a lot of sense to them both.

Tony pulled up in her car and the garage opened. As he parked, Elizabeth stopped swinging the rope. “Hey, girls, why don’t you go inside and grab something cold to drink, okay? We can start back in a little bit.”

He got out and slowly walked toward them, hugging Danielle and giving Jennifer a fist bump. Elizabeth studied his face, trying to discern what might have happened. Tony was always so hard to read. At least he hadn’t been taken away in handcuffs.

“Well?” she said.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, Tom just wanted to throw me in jail. But Coleman says he wants two days to think about it.”

“Really?” She said it with equal measures of incredulity and cynicism. She knew Coleman was all about the bottom line. You make a sale and he rewards you. You falter and you pay the price. Tom hadn’t liked Tony from the beginning
 
—at least that’s how Tony had seen it. But Coleman had always seemed neutral. Pleasant to her and Danielle, but all business. “Did he seem angry?”

“I couldn’t tell.” Tony shook his head and looked at the
trees surrounding their house. Green and leafy and full of life. “Liz, this was the most awkward thing I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, but you did it. Listen, you did the right thing.” She moved toward him. “Now we just have to pray and wait.”

Pray and wait. That’s what she had done in the past few weeks. And in the waiting came the strengthening of the muscles of faith. It was a whole-faith workout to wait and allow God to do what He wanted to do. As Clara said, it was time to just get out of His way.

“Why don’t you change and come practice with your daughter?”

“Liz, why should I practice for a competition when I might be in jail?”

“You don’t know that. Whatever happens, we trust God, right?”

She was saying it to herself as much as she was saying it to him. It sounded a little cliché, a little trite, but she didn’t care how it sounded. She cared about Tony.

Tony thought about it a moment, the wheels spinning inside. “Right,” he said with determination. He turned to go inside, then shook his head. With a bit of a laugh he said, “This is crazy. You know that, right?”

Elizabeth smiled as they walked inside. While Tony changed, she dialed Clara and let her know what had happened with Tony’s meeting. The woman was hungry for information about the progress the two were making and how Tony was changing, but it never felt to Elizabeth like
her prayers hung on results. Clara was on her knees for them no matter what good or bad thing happened.

“I want you to hear me,” Clara said as Tony and the girls went outside to practice. “God is working here. He’s done a big thing in your husband’s heart. And it doesn’t matter what that company decides. I don’t care if they hire him back as vice president or they bring a SWAT team to your front yard. The circumstance doesn’t matter. It’s your reaction to it that matters.”

“Well, I’m hoping the SWAT team is not an option.”

Clara laughed. “It reminds me of Joseph. You know the story of the boy getting sold into slavery by his own brothers. That’s betrayal. And then he’s falsely accused and tossed into prison. And all the while God is working in his life. Old Joseph, he’s just being himself. He’s just interpreting dreams like God allowed him to. And when the story is all told, you see how God’s hand was over all of it, good and bad. He uses it all, Elizabeth.”

She looked out the window at Danielle and Jennifer turning the ropes and Tony jumping in, hopping on one foot, then the other. The smile on Danielle’s face was priceless. There was a glow about her as she watched her dad.

As Elizabeth watched, it became clear that the motion of the ropes, all the jumping and struggling to stay in rhythm and not stop the movement, was just like their lives. The marriage rope swung and she and Tony were trying hard to keep both feet above it as it crossed below them. The finance rope also swung over them, and the
spiritual rope
 
—there were just so many ways to trip and get tangled. She wanted God to hold them both up, suspend them in midair so they never touched the ground
 
—but He wouldn’t. There was something about the jumping that made them stronger
 
—and something about the missing that made keeping their feet moving in time more sweet. Clara was right. God used it all. He used the hard times to draw her closer. He used the struggle to bring them together.