A Time to Dance/A Time to Embrace (3 page)

The rock in her stomach grew. “What?”

He studied the ground. “I don’t feel right about it . . . what I mean is, the kids . . .” His eyes found hers as they kept walking. “I don’t care what the counselors say; we can’t tell them now.” His forehead was creased with concern. “Not after tonight. They’ll be celebrating right through Christmas, Abby. They have a right to that.”

Abby felt her shoulders tense as a burst of nervous tension spewed into her veins. “They have a right to know the truth.”

His eyelids were heavy with sorrow. “We’ll tell them soon enough.” His steps slowed and he stared hard at her, begging her to understand. “Come on, Abby. This is the happiest day in Kade’s life. And before you know it, Christmas’ll be here. Can’t it wait?”

She stopped walking and stared at her husband, one hand on her hip. “What are we supposed to do, John? Pretend forever?”

His jawline hardened but he said nothing.

Stop, daughter. A kind word turns away anger.

Abby heard the still, small voice somewhere in the distant corners of her soul, but she shook her head. John had brought this on, after all. Why cover for him now?

“What good does waiting do?” She crossed her arms and huffed. “We should’ve told them last month.” She hesitated. “You can’t be the good guy forever, John.”
Don’t say it, Abby . . .
“Even if you are state champs.”

“Here we go.” John removed his Marion High baseball cap and dug his fingers through his damp, dark hair. “What do you want, Abby? A fight? Right here on the fifty-yard line?”

She thought of a dozen quick comebacks but held her tongue. “I’m just saying we should have told them by now. For goodness sake, John, we’re filing in January. They won’t know what hit them if we don’t say something soon.”

His face twisted, and she thought he might cry. He looked like a little boy who’d lost his best friend, and for a crazy instant she wanted to take him in her arms and beg him to stay, beg him to break it off with Charlene and love only her, Abby, for the rest of his life. Her heart softened.
We’re both wrong, John. Isn’t what we’ve built worth another try?
But before she could find the courage to voice the words, the feeling vanished.
I must be crazy. We’re too far gone for second chances . . .

Nothing is impossible with God, My child.

Abby closed her eyes. That time she was sure the silent voice in her heart belonged to the Lord.
We tried. You know we did . . . But even
You would grant me an out in this situation . . . Your word says so, doesn’t
it?

I hate divorce, daughter . . . Nothing is impossible with—

It’s too late . . .
Her eyes opened. “Listen, I just want to get through this.”

He was still watching her, but his sadness had changed to determination. “We can file in February. We’ve waited this long. Let’s get through Christmas.”

The image of John and Charlene taunted her. “Ho ho ho,” she whispered.

“What?” John’s voice rose a notch.

She cocked her head. “Let’s just say I’m not in the mood for the holidays.”

John gritted his teeth. “I swear, Abby, all you ever think about is yourself. It’s Christmas, remember? That used to mean something to you.”

Don’t do this to me, John. Don’t pretend like it matters when it doesn’t
. Images came to mind of her and John wandering the hallways of their house in recent years . . . silent, tense, loveless. “Yeah, back when
I
used to mean something to
you.”

They stood planted there, face to angry face, the chasm between them growing with each breath. Abby broke the silence first. “Don’t make me the bad guy. I don’t want to ruin their Christmas, either.” She gestured at herself. “I’m just trying to be realistic.”

“Selfish, you mean?” He was struggling to keep his voice down.

“No,
realistic!”
Her words were little more than a hiss. “I hate pretending!”

The muscles in John’s jaw flinched. “You think I like it? I’m not talking about us here, Abby. I’m talking about the kids. We’ll tell them after the holidays, and that settles it.”

He started walking and Abby wanted to scream. “Wait!”

John stopped and after a beat, turned back to her. “What?”

She exhaled, struggling to control the emotions that rocked her heart. She couldn’t imagine another moment trapped in a house with John while he was in love with another woman . . . and through Christmas?

Then it occurred to her that the holidays were apt to be busy, anyway. Her shoulders slumped. Oh, what did it matter? Maybe John was right. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if the kids had less time to get used to the idea. Maybe she could survive waiting for their sake. As long as the divorce came quickly after that. “Okay . . . fine. After Christmas.” She hesitated. “But keep your hands off Charlene in public, will you? At least until after we’ve told the kids.”

John’s eyes widened and his anger became indignation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on . . .” Her mouth hung open. Why did he insist on lying to her? What was the point? “It means I have no intention of looking the other way while you run around with your
girlfriend
just so we can give the kids a happy Christmas.”

John took a step toward her, his expression growing hard as flint. “You know, I’m sick of you blaming this on Charlene. Our decision to divorce is separate from my friendship with her. It’s because you’ve changed . . . we’ve both changed.” He sighed and stared into the moonlit sky, and she wondered if he were searching for answers—as she’d done so many times. She watched his jaw work and knew he was trying to control his temper. “We’re not the same people we were, Abby.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s not about Charlene. No matter how much we’ve changed we could’ve worked it out; we had an obligation to work it out. But when you took up with Charlene, it was time to get out.” She uttered a short laugh. “I mean, come on, John. Don’t tell me you aren’t having an affair with her when I walked into your classroom and found her in your—”

“That was a hug!” John spat the words at her. “I told you she was upset about her . . .” His voice trailed off, and Abby felt her blood pressure rise a notch. How dare he deny it when she’d caught him in the act? When she’d been hearing about John’s relationship with Charlene from a dozen different sources ever since then?

“A hug? Really?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “And what was she upset about tonight when she was hanging all over you in front of ten thousand people?”

John’s body hunched forward, as though the fight had left him. “Forget it.” He buried his hands deep in his pockets and resumed walking, his strides long and purposeful. “Believe what you want.”

Abby was furious. He was lying, of course. Like he’d done a hundred times before. She jogged the few steps to catch up and fell in place beside him again. “I believe my friends, and they’ve seen the same thing I have.”

He said nothing, his eyes straight ahead as he continued up the stadium steps toward the car.

Jerk.
“Fine, don’t talk to me. Just don’t make a scene with her, okay? If we wait ’til after the holidays, at least give me that.”

They were at the top of the stairs. John stopped and glanced at his watch. “Whatever.” His voice was void of any emotion. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel in a few hours.”

“What?” Abby’s heartbeat doubled.
Don’t do this to me, John, not
tonight.
“You’re coming with me. The kids are waiting for us.”

Even before John answered, Abby knew she’d pushed him too far. Her husband was staring down the street, lost to her and their children and all that had given them reason to celebrate an hour earlier. “The coaches are meeting at the pub down the block. Tell the kids I’ll see ’em later.”

Then without making eye contact, without the slightest appearance of remorse or regret, without even a single look back, John walked off into the night. Abby stood stone still, watching him go.

Turn around, John. Come back and tell me you love me; tell me this
is crazy and that somehow everything’s going to be okay.

He kept walking.
Make him stop, Lord; the kids need him tonight.

Silence.

She watched as John looked for traffic in both directions, jogged across the street, and headed further down the sidewalk.
Fine. Let him
leave.
Turning, she blinked back tears and refused to entertain the ache in her heart. It was time she got used to seeing him walk away. This was all they had left now, all they would ever be: two people, two strangers, walking alone in separate directions into the cold, dark night of their future.

She knew it; John knew it.

And sometime after Christmas, the kids would know it, too.

Three

T
HE MOST WONDERFUL THING ABOUT GROWING
up on a private lake, at least as far as Nicole Reynolds was concerned, was not the endless grassy hillside that spread from their back door toward the water or the old wooden pier where they gathered so often for diving contests and sing-alongs. Those things were wonderful and would always be a part of the fabric of her family’s lives, of course. But the most amazing benefit was the trail that wound its way through shadowy thickets of trees and brush, then back out into the open along the water’s edge. As children, Nicole and Kade would ride their bikes around the water pretending they were explorers in a foreign country or journeying across enemy territory to reach a safe place—usually the lakeside home of one of their friends.

At twenty, Nicole was too old for imaginary play and romps through the woods, but she still cherished the old trail. Nowadays it was the place where she and Matt Conley could get away from the demands of college life and walk hand in hand, sharing ever more about themselves.

Years earlier, Nicole had liked the path best in summer when the ground was warm and the leaves in full display. But now, with Matt by her side, there was something magical about walking the three-mile trail even in the heart of winter.

That afternoon, a Wednesday nearly three weeks after Christmas, Nicole got home from classes early, started a fire, and fixed lunch. Matt would be there in less than an hour with something important to tell her. Something very important. She pulled the bread from the refrigerator and ripped two paper towels from the roll. His voice came back to her, urgent and certain, telling her that no matter what else happened that day, they must meet right after classes.

Her palms were sweaty and she rubbed them on her jeans.

I’m not worried.
She thought about that for a moment. What did she have to be worried about? She and Matt had been inseparable since meeting at the university’s debate club two years earlier when he was a senior. Every day since then had been more wonderful than the last, and the relationship they’d started had been filled with romance and laughter. Their struggles were typical for people their age— people determined to serve God and put Him first. For that reason they’d set boundaries soon after their friendship turned to dating. But never—not once in two years—had Nicole feared Matt might break up with her.

It can’t be that.

She reached for the mayonnaise, opened it, and grabbed a knife. Matt was always so thoughtful, surprising her with her favorite smoked-turkey-and-swiss-cheese lunches, bringing her wildflowers, giving her space when she had to cram for an English exam.

She thought about the bond between her and Matt, and a deep ache formed in her chest. He didn’t want to see someone else, did he?
No, it isn’t possible.
They were too good for each other. Matt was twenty-four, in his final year at law school, an athlete with a brilliant mind and a way of making her feel taken care of. He was strong and determined and very much in love with her. Though Nicole knew he found her physically attractive, Matt seemed most drawn to the way she made him laugh. Nicole had been a cheerleader in high school and thrived on silliness and smiley moments. She was playful and affectionate and loved closing his textbooks, pulling him outside, and having an impromptu snowball fight or a walk along the frozen trail He was her pillar of strength; she was his reminder that life was meant to be savored.

They were perfect together. Weren’t they?

Is there something wrong with our relationship, something I can’t see?

Be still and know that I am God, daughter.

Nicole drew a slow, deep breath. She loved the way God spoke to her, swiftly and with loving authority, in a quiet voice that echoed from someplace in the depths of her soul. For years she and the Lord had been this way, and the certainty of His presence, His voice, brought an intimacy to their relationship that was the very rock upon which Nicole was building her life. If God wanted her to be at peace over this meeting with Matt, then deep inside she knew she had nothing to fear.

Thank You, Lord. Just keep my heart from beating out of my chest,
okay? The curiosity’s killing me.

Throughout lunch, Matt’s eyes danced and he seemed about to burst with excitement. But he talked only about his classwork and current projects. At first Nicole played along, but when they finished their lunch she wiped her mouth and set her napkin down hard.

“Okay . . . stop.”

He grinned at her. “What?

She could feel a smile playing at the corners of her lips, but she huffed anyway. “You had something
very important
to tell me, remember? That’s why we’re here.”

He sat back in his seat and gazed out the window, his eyes twinkling as he drew a long breath. “Let’s see, something important . . .” He murmured the words under his breath, as though trying to jog his memory. “What was it . . . ?”

Nicole’s exasperated grunt filled the silence and she grabbed his right arm with both hands, pulling on him like a petulant child. “Matt, this isn’t funny. I’m serious, come on. I’ve been waiting all day.”

He grinned at her but said nothing.

She huffed. “Okay fine, I’ll guess. You’re moving to Antarctica to take up ice fishing? Moving to Zimbabwe to be a missionary? Quitting law school and joining the circus?”