Devotion (24 page)

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Authors: Marianne Evans

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Devotion
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Juliet tilted her head, visibly lost within the story, looking deep into the woman’s face. Kellen was captivated.

The woman’s overlarge, bulbous eyes filled with tears. “Then came the economic shakedown and downsizing and nothin’ goin’ right. Daddy didn’t have a job. I didn’t have a job. He got sick with cancer, and I went down the wrong road.” The woman started to cry—and so did Juliet. “I did bad things. Really bad things…things…I...I…”

“Badness has no trouble stepping in when life knocks you down, does it, honey? It’s an easy trap to fall into.”

The woman shook her head. Long, slick brown strings of unclean hair swung from beneath a knit cap still soaked from the deluge of rain outside. Her coat was frayed and dotted by dirt stains. Kellen caught his breath.

“I strayed from God.” The lady looked up, taking in the warming center. “I strayed from all of this. I did drugs. I had a daughter, and I lost her to social services. I let life destroy me. But I gotta keep tryin’. I gotta keep goin’. God keeps givin’ me days, and I jus’ don’t know what to do with ’em. I just don’t know how to hope anymore, and—and—now look at me, begging for a meal.”

“I am looking at you, and you’re beautiful.” Juliet’s intercession stilled the woman. “To me and to God. You’re not alone, and you’re not begging. We’re here for you.”

The woman’s head lifted, just barely.

Seeming undaunted, Juliet continued. “You haven’t strayed so far that you can’t be embraced by God.” Juliet took hold of both of the woman’s hands now, continuing to look up at her. “After all, look where you’ve found yourself. You’re in His arms. We’re here for you because of Him, and you’re getting a warm place to stay, some good food to eat, and the chance to start out fresh tomorrow…not because of us, but because of Him.”

“I never thought I’d end up having to be at a place like this. I’m so embarrassed…I used to be a strong, good person…”

“You still are.” Despite Juliet’s subservient, kneeling position, this guest of the warming facility kept her head down; her posture remained slumped by burdens Kellen couldn’t begin to imagine.

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Vanetta. Jus’ call me Vanetta.”

Juliet stood then and sat in the chair next to Vanetta, drawing her in for a tight, long hug. Juliet whispered some words into the ear of this heartbroken, homeless stranger, but Kellen couldn’t make them out. What he did know was that the woman’s frail shoulders began to shake, and tears fell in abundance. Juliet kept on holding her tight, ignoring everything, it seemed, except for the woman’s need to find self-worth, and care.

At last they parted, and Juliet kept a hand in place on the woman’s shoulder. With the other, she lifted away the woman’s food tray. “I’ll be right back. Let me get you some fresh food. This has gone cold. Would you like some coffee maybe? Does that sound good?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Juliet squeezed her shoulder. “It’s Juliet, honey. Juliet.”

Swiping at her wet eyes, the woman offered a smile that showed yellowed teeth. “Such a pretty name. You’re such a pretty girl.”

Kellen stared after his wife, moved and unspeakably proud. What he hadn’t grasped fully until now was that Juliet’s volunteer efforts weren’t about filling time. They were about affecting change—in the name of God.

 

****

 

Juliet passed through the swinging doors of the kitchen. Once she knew she was out of sight of the main dining area, she sank against the closest wall. Her energy drained away. All around, the bustle of dishware being cleaned, the scrape and whoosh of oven tops being whisked back to brightness kept her from being noticed. That suited her perfectly. She sucked in a few fast, sharp breaths, trying to regain her equilibrium, but her lips trembled, just like the rest of her body.

“Hey, Jules.”

She cringed. Attempting smoothness and calm, she straightened, fingering back wispy strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. “Hey, Tim.” She grabbed a tray and dropped it against the metal guide rails. Next, she reached into a storage unit and pulled out a napkin wrapped set of cutlery. She kept her back to him, trying hard to blink back tears. Tim held her arm gently, though he allowed her to remain turned away. She started to lift a coffee mug from the nearby stack, and it rattled against the others when she trembled.

“I saw the woman you were talking to.” His voice came to her, sounding calm and sure. “It looked pretty intense. Are you OK?”

Juliet wanted to give up the pretense. She finally looked toward him and shook her head. She probably reeked of transferred body odor and shared disillusionment. Ignoring everything else, she bowed her head and leaned against the support rail that held a stack of fresh food trays. She loved this program, believed in it with absolute conviction. What she had failed to consider was the draining emotion, the pain. She couldn’t handle being a witness and counselor to any more heartbreak right now—not even in the name of God’s nobility and the ease of another person’s suffering. It simply wasn’t in her. She was depleted.

“Come here.” Without waiting on acceptance or refusal, Tim drew her close.

Before she knew it, the giving warmth of a hug flowed from his spirit to hers, and she felt like breaking down all over again. “I’m so sorry for how hard this is. You give, and you give, and you give. It’s kind of your blessing and your curse.”

Tim understood her far more than Juliet had ever realized. She wanted to slide into this moment with nothing else to consider except how good it felt to be tended to and treasured. But she couldn’t. Not by miles.

She backed away fast, brushing at her damp, overheated cheeks. She sniffed. “I need to make a tray and deliver some food.”

When she turned away from Tim, she looked into the face of the last person on earth she ever expected to see here.

Kellen.

 

 

 

 

21

 

The words
step away from my wife
didn’t need to be spoken. Kellen’s clenched jaw and narrow-eyed stare at Tim said it all, and sent forth a vibration powerful enough to prompt Tim to back away even further.

“She got pretty upset,” Tim said, meeting Kellen’s icy posture without a flinch.

“I noticed. That’s why I came back here.”

Tim picked up the tray Juliet had brought in. “I’ll heat this and give it to one of the volunteers to eat.”

“I’d still like to serve Vanetta a meal.” Juliet said.

Tim nodded. “You can prep a fresh helping. The food hasn’t been taken away yet.”

He left, but not without a last inscrutable look at Kellen.

Wordless, Juliet turned away from her husband and braced against weakness—in all its forms. She returned her attention to the empty tray before her, fidgeting with the utensils she had deposited along the side. She heard Kellen approach, but didn’t bother to meet him halfway. She was in no mood. In a gloomy rush, her entire life came at her, feeling ruined again, and her existence struck her as sorrowful, and laden by heart-wrenching compromise. The devil held her in a hammerlock.

“It seems you and Tim have become even closer. You certainly are doing a lot together at Trinity.”

That low-spoken, leading observation didn’t help her outlook at all. Feisty resolve pushed through a bleak surface. “Yes we are…but let me put your mind at ease. I won’t do tit-for-tat. I can’t. I decided, after my first week back home, that the circle of pain and wrongdoing would end. I’ve prayed—in earnest—to move on, and to somehow find the strength to keep tuned in to what God wants me to do…with
all
of this.” She spun toward him and glared. “Tim is one of my prayer partners, but don’t concern yourself with losing face. I stepped away from his hug even before I saw you. It was nothing. It was innocent.”

“I know that, and I saw that for myself. Still, it hurt.”

“Well, welcome to my world.” In defeat, she muttered the words, her head held high.

Kellen reared back. His lips firmed into a grim line for an instant. “Touché.” It occurred to her then, despite the non-stop motion of bodies through the facility, if they continued on like this, they’d garner unwanted attention. She grabbed his hand. At a brisk clip, she pulled him into a private office off the kitchen area.

Once she closed the door, Juliet took charge. “You should apologize to Tim. That standoff was uncomfortable. Besides which, the territorial card isn’t one I’d suggest you play right now.”

Kellen had recovered. His eyes went sharp. “Congratulations on scoring several direct hits. I’ll tolerate them for now, but it’s getting old. Yes, I’m jealous. Yes, I’m scared, and yes, the end result is me being territorial about you when maybe I have no right to be.” He moved close, transforming into the confident man she recognized and yearned for. “But I want you to keep something very important in mind. I’m not worried one
whit
about losing face, Juliet. What I’m worried sick about, as I’ve told you before, is losing you for good.”

She fought hard to keep from moving in, touching him. Steeling her spine, she lifted her chin. This tiny, cluttered office, full of corkboard photo displays depicting the rescue mission and its history, resonated with barely contained pain—and love.

“What worries
me
sick is the fact that I didn’t realize I was losing you. Not until it was too late to do anything about it and the damage had been done…and sometimes, especially when I’m overwhelmed to begin with, it rolls over me like a tidal wave!”

Flinging the words at him, Juliet discovered humiliation still found a way to leak through her, acidic and devastating. She couldn’t meet his eyes any longer, but she noticed the way he blanched. She hardened herself against sympathy.

An impasse stretched between them. Kellen pushed out a hard sigh and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The office contained a desk and the chair that was positioned behind it—not much else would fit. Within these tight confines, Juliet could have sworn she felt him in the air all around her; she could absorb him into her soul without so much as a single touch being exchanged.

“I didn’t come here to argue.” Kellen’s quiet declaration echoed with defeat. “I didn’t come here to cause you more pain.” He shook his head. “I think, for now, it’s best that I leave. This was a mistake, and I’m sorry.”

The words drifted to silence. Stunned, she watched him struggle for a moment then turn away. Juliet shot into action and grabbed his arm. “Not a chance.” When she yanked him back into place, their bodies brushed then bumped. Their eyes met and her heart rate took off. The yearning she had always felt for him intensified to the point of being unbearable, but she fought that ache with everything she possessed. “You’re not getting off that easily, Kellen. Why did you come here? What’s this all about? If you want to talk to me, then
talk to me
!”

Fire came to life in his eyes and Juliet nearly gasped at the wrecked expression on his face. “OK, I’ll
talk to you
. This was about me wanting to support you the way you’ve always supported me. This was about me wanting to be part of the things that are important to you. This was about me realizing I need to build a bridge to the kind of support I used to give you before….before…
life
took over. But I can’t redeem myself alone. It takes me, it takes God, and it’s going to take your forgiveness. I’m only one-third of the equation, Juliet. God knows my heart. I’m trying to grasp the fact that I can be forgiven by Him because my remorse is real. The rest of it? The missing piece? It’s in your hands, and it’s up to you.”

That revelation crashed against her with the impact of hitting a brick wall at top speed. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him. Kellen stayed put, staring right back.

At last he stepped forward. He took loose hold of her hand. When his thumb skimmed against her wrist, absorbing the erratic thump of her pulse, she felt far too revealed. She looked down in evasion of the truth that she ached for his love—physically and emotionally.

“Let me try this again.” His words were slow, tentative. “Let me start this conversation the way I meant to when I first walked in.” Bearing an equal measure of hesitance, Juliet nodded but trained her attention on a scuffmark and a crease in the tile floor. “I came here to help you. I want to be part of what you’re doing here. When I saw you with that woman, my heart broke. I noticed the way her story affected you. I’m amazed by the way you reach out, despite the fact that you’re hurting, too.”

She looked up. Inch by painful inch, her heart eased and softened of its own volition. She wanted to resist that melting swirl of surrender, but she couldn’t. “It always hurts to see people in pain, people who struggle just to get by, and survive. Comfort is how I’ve tried to give thanks to God for the blessings He gives us and the successes we’ve achieved. Well. That
you’ve
achieved.”

“The successes belong to both of us, Juliet.
Both
of us.”

“I used to think so.”

Kellen physically wilted. He shook his head, staring into her eyes. “God, how I want my wife back.”

Standing there, facing off with him in the seclusion of the utilitarian office, Juliet forced herself to ease up as best she could. He made a point. God wouldn’t ordain acrimony—from either one of them. Right now, though, she was an overwrought mess.

The unexpected touch of his affirmation gave her strength, despite the tightness in her chest. “It’s becoming clearer to me that blessings are given. While we may think they’re as solid as a rock, and built on forever, circumstances can build up that destroy those blessings and take them down like a wrecking ball.” She paused strategically. “Like Vanetta, for example. She had a good life, an honorable life. Piece by piece it fell away from her.”

She knew by the pained expression on his face that Kellen understood the underlying point she made.
Like the surrender of our marriage.

“You’ve always seen to it that we never wanted for a thing. You’re a wonderful provider, Kellen. This kind of activity is my way of saying thanks—to God, and to you. It feels good to give my time, and our resources, to help people who are in need. It’s a grace from God, because I’ve looked into their eyes. I’ve seen the results. The gratitude, the provision and peace that a simple act of kindness can provide is a miracle to behold. We’re the ones who win, as much as them.”

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