Age Before Beauty (26 page)

No. Years ago Allie had accepted the fact that she was not to blame for her parents’ divorce. Her college psychology classes had reaffirmed that. Daddy was the one who had been unfaithful. It was his fault, not hers. She’d discovered later that the affair with Mrs. Nelson wasn’t his first, nor was it his last. But the pot had been the last straw for Mom. Allie didn’t blame her, nor did she blame herself. She had realized long ago that her father was unreliable in every way that mattered.

But she never thought Eric would turn out like him.

Pain gripped her insides and squeezed. Her marriage was falling apart. She was going to end up like Mom, struggling to raise her daughter alone. A sob rose from deep in her chest to lodge in her throat. She doubled over, both hands pressed against her mouth to keep it in. She could not give in to despair. She had to be strong for Joanie. For herself.

What a blessedness, what a peace is mine, leaning on the
everlasting arms
.

She raised up, grabbed her glass off the counter, and slung the remaining water into the sink. Why did that ridiculous song keep coming to mind? She’d never liked it to begin with. It was stupid. What did it mean, even? Leaning meant depending on God to take care of you, to solve your problems. But Tori was right. God helped those who helped themselves. Besides, when you depended on someone else, you opened yourself up to disappointment, betrayal, and pain. Like Mom had done with Daddy. Allie gulped against the painful lump in her throat. Like she had done with Daddy. And with Eric.

But what if Joan is right?

That look in Joan’s eyes, that certainty, haunted Allie. Tori didn’t have that. In fact, Tori was almost as stressed out as Allie. What had Joan said? That Allie could rely on God because she was his precious child and he loved her. That she could trust him. With a sudden longing that threatened to overpower her grip on her emotions, Allie wanted to be that precious child. If only she could be as sure as Joan.

You have to ask.

That’s what Joan said. God had the answers to her problems, but she had to ask.

She raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “I know you’re there,” she whispered. “I guess I’ve always figured you were watching to see how I’m handling things down here.” The slow breath she drew shuddered. “Not so good, huh? I thought I could handle everything on my own, without you, without Daddy, even without Eric if I had to. But everything is such a mess right now I’m not sure I even know what to ask. What I really need is—” a sob broke her voice—“to know somebody cares.”

The silence in the room deepened with an expectant hush. Something was happening. Her ragged breath suddenly stilled, Allie waited while a sense of anticipation danced around the edges of her mind. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her tears dissolved as if … as if an invisible hand had gently wiped them away.

She felt loved. Like someone had tenderly placed a warm blanket around her tense shoulders and hugged her tight.

Safe and secure from all alarms.

New tears sprang to her eyes, not tears of pain, but of joy. With a certainty that Tori would call insane, Allie knew she was being hugged tight by someone who loved her. Someone who cherished her as his precious little girl. Someone on whom she could rely. Someone who could drop the answers to all her problems right in her lap, crazy as that sounded.

An unexplainable peace flooded her soul as Allie realized she could lean all the weight of her burdens on the everlasting arms that encircled her.

22

“Oatmeal?” Tori eyed the round container resting on the kitchen counter with disgust. “You want us to eat oatmeal for breakfast after a sleepover? Where’s the chocolate donuts? The leftover pizza?”

Seated at the kitchen table while Joanie nursed, Allie looked at her sister’s tiny waist as she reached up into the high cabinet where the cereal bowls were stored. Hip bones protruded through the soft pink PJ bottoms Tori wore. With a rush of envy, Allie realized she hadn’t seen her own hip bones since shortly after her marriage.

“How in the world do you stay so skinny the way you eat?” she asked. “It is totally unfair that you got all the skinny genes while my genes suck up every fat gram that comes within a twelve-inch radius of my mouth and store it on my hips.”

Tori picked up a spoon and used it to emphasize her words. “I don’t eat very much as a rule. I know you think I do, because you only see me on Sundays when I’m pigging out on Gram’s cooking. But during the week, sometimes I forget to eat at all.”

Allie stared at her. Junk food tempted her forty times a day, and her little sister forgot to eat? “I want to hit you.”

“No hitting.” Joan pulled a yellow box of sweetener off the top shelf of the pantry and set it on the counter. “Besides, Allie, you have no one to blame but yourself. The minute you found out you were pregnant, you ate everything in sight.” She smiled to soften her words. “You’re not as big as you seem to think you are. You could drop that extra baby weight if you wanted to. What about that gym membership Eric gave you? Have you checked it out?”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty swanky place, but I don’t know. All that fancy equipment scares me, and I
don’t
want to take aerobics.” Allie shuddered. “Besides, what would I do with Joanie while I worked out?”

Joan snapped her fingers. “Oh, I meant to tell you. One of the girls in my Sunday school class works in the daycare out there. You remember Sara, don’t you? She’s so sweet, and she loves babies.”

“Really?” Allie looked down at her baby. If Joan knew someone who worked in the nursery … “They do have a pool and a walking track.”

“Perfect.” Joan scooped raw oatmeal into three bowls. “I wouldn’t mind joining a gym, especially during the winter. I’ll go with you a few mornings a week to help you get into the routine.”

Allie shifted Joanie to the other arm. Her heart felt tender this morning after her middle-of-the-night … encounter? She didn’t know what to call it, but when she’d awakened, the peace she felt in the night still lingered. She’d been half afraid to go to sleep, afraid that she’d wake up and find the stress of all her problems pressing down on her again. But her first conscious thought before she even opened her eyes had been,
Good morning, God! I’m so glad
you’re in control
. Her mood was lighter than it had been in … well, forever.

Joan’s offer to go with her to the gym struck her as particularly touching, and she battled a wave of tears. Joan walked with Ken every morning, so coming to the gym with her meant her sister was willing to sacrifice time with her boyfriend. She waited until she was sure the catch in her throat wouldn’t sound in her voice. “You’d do that for me?”

Joan turned a look of surprise her way. “Of course I would. You’re my sister.”

Allie lowered her gaze to her nursing baby. Was this the answer to one of her problems, dropped right in her lap? Was Joan’s offer God’s way of taking care of one thing that made his precious little girl unhappy?

She gulped, and couldn’t look up until she got a firm grip on her emotions. This feeling, this awareness of her heavenly Father’s presence, was still too new. She didn’t want to talk about it, because what if admitting it aloud made it go away?

So instead she just said, “Thanks. I’d like that.”

Tori added water to one of the bowls and set it in the microwave. The
beep-beep-beep
as she punched the buttons sounded loud in the kitchen where the only other sound was Joanie’s soft murmur while she nursed. Joan refilled her coffee mug and brought the carafe to the table to warm up Allie’s. Joan yawned as she poured, and Allie did too. She’d only gotten a couple of hours’ sleep after her middle-of-the-night encounter before Joanie woke them all for her 6:00 a.m. feeding.

“So what’s the plan this morning?” Tori asked as she stirred water into the second bowl of dry oats.

“I’m going to run over and pick up Gram around eight so she can start Sunday dinner.” Joan switched her gaze to Allie. “Are you staying here while we go to church, or are you going to go home and come back for dinner with Eric and Betty?”

Allie looked down. “Actually, I thought I might go with you this morning.”

Joan’s jaw dropped, and Tori stopped stirring to stare at her.

“Really?” Joan asked.

Allie nodded. “Except all I brought to wear today is a pair of tan slacks and a shirt that isn’t very dressy.” She bit her lip. “I could go home and get some nicer clothes, but …”

She really didn’t want to face Eric with the news that she wanted to go to church. He’d let her, of course, but she knew how he felt, and why. He’d require an explanation, and at the moment she didn’t know if she could articulate how she felt. All she knew was that she wanted to go.

If Joan saw the struggle in her face, she didn’t mention it. “That’ll be fine. I’ll wear slacks too, and we can dress up your top with jewelry. Tori can wear slacks too.”

Tori’s lower lip pouted. “I didn’t bring slacks. I brought an absolutely darling wool skirt I got last week that I wanted to show off.”

“Slacks.” Joan’s tone refused to tolerate any argument on the subject. “I’m sure you can find something in the ton of clothes you have stored in the upstairs closet.”

Tori heaved a loud sigh. “You guys are just as bossy now as you were when we were kids.”

At eleven o’clock Allie sat between her sisters in the sanctuary of Christ Community Church. The strong floral scent of Mrs. Caldwell’s perfume lingered on Allie’s skin, applied by the enthusiastic hug the elderly lady had given her when she placed Joanie in her care in the nursery. Or maybe it was from one of the other many hugs of welcome she’d received. A glance around the sanctuary showed so many familiar faces, so many delighted smiles of recognition. Gram sat on the other side of Joan, her gaze fixed on her hymnal. At least her lips were no longer clamped together in disapproval at her granddaughters’ choice of clothing. Allie wondered if Gram had noticed, as she did, that many of the women in the congregation wore slacks, even some of the seniors. Allie had glimpsed a couple of teenagers in jeans, something that would never have happened when she attended this church during her high school years.

Deep, rich music filled the sanctuary as the organist began the prelude. In response, unexpected tears prickled Allie’s eyes. It had been so long since she’d heard the sound of an organ. The music brought with it the sense of holiness she remembered feeling as a little girl.
I’ve come home
, she thought.
Like a prodigal
. More tears threatened, and she fought against them. She would not cry here.

The choir filed into the loft from a side door at the front of the sanctuary. Allie searched each face as they stepped through the doorway. Some were familiar, some new. Mom led the second row. When she got to her place, light glinted off the lenses of her glasses as her gaze searched the congregation. A smile lit her face when she caught sight of them.

Movement in the aisle caught Allie’s attention, and she turned her head to watch Reverend Jacobsen make his way down the center aisle toward the pulpit. The same aisle Allie had walked down during her wedding. Only then Eric had been here, waiting at the front, his face radiant with love.

Allie shut her eyes against a wave of angst. What should she do about Eric? Ask him to transfer back to second shift so he wasn’t alone with Molly every day? Let Betty watch Joanie at night while she did Varie Cose parties? But Betty needed to return home to Don, Allie knew that. So she’d have to hire a babysitter, and if she was going to do that, she might as well go back to her state job.

Her stomach muscles tightened as familiar worries threatened her newfound peace.

God, can you really handle this? Because I know I can’t
.

Her worries took wing and fluttered away as she remembered the unspoken promise of last night. Safe and secure.

Reverend Jacobsen reached his seat at the front of the sanctuary as the organist finished the prelude with a powerful musical flourish that vibrated Allie’s heart in her rib cage. The choir director stepped up to the altar, his arms held wide as he invited the congregation to stand.

Allie got to her feet along with everyone else as the strains of the first hymn filled the sanctuary. Joan handed her a hymnal already opened to the right page. When Allie looked down at the title, chills rose on her arm. The awe from the dimly lit kitchen last night returned as the familiar tune the organ played registered in her mind.

Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.

There was no holding back her tears
.

Allie winced as Eric followed her into their bedroom and slammed the door. During Sunday dinner Joan had unwittingly broken the news that she’d gone to church with the rest of the family. All afternoon Allie had sensed Eric’s growing anger as they worked in the yard at Gram’s house, getting the last of the leaves raked up and the rosebushes ready for winter. He had barely spoken two words to her.

She planted her back against the desk chair and faced him. The fury in his eyes snapped at her across the room. She was glad she’d placed the bed between them.

“I can’t believe you took Joanie to church without asking me.”

Anger flickered in the back of her skull at his word choice. “Without
asking
you? Are you saying I have to beg your permission to go to church?”

“If you want to take my daughter, yes.”

The serenity she’d found at church left her in a rush that stiffened her spine. The day she begged permission to do anything, like she was some sort of servant, would be the day she walked out of here. She drew an outraged breath to tell him so when he raised a hand, fingers splayed, and clarified his point. “Not
begged
me, but you should have talked to me first. We’ve discussed this. I thought we were in agreement that we’d wait until she was old enough to make her own decision about religion.”

Calm down. I knew he’d be upset.
With an effort, Allie bit back another angry retort and forced a measure of calm into her voice. “You’re right, Eric. I should have called you this morning. But I knew this would happen,” she gestured between them, “and I didn’t want to start the day off with an argument. Besides, she just spent an hour in the nursery, that’s all.”