Faithful (4 page)

Phyllis slipped on the earrings and a bracelet as Hayes watched her in the mirror.

He kissed her cheek. “You know I love you. Let's let that other stuff go.”

Easy for you to say
. She sighed. “I love you too.”

Hayes gave a slight chuckle. “You don't have to sound so excited about it.” His eyes caught hers in their reflection. “Seriously, Phyl, please let it go. I want you to have a good time.” An eyebrow lifted. “But not
too
good a time. One of your old college buddies might take a liking to the new you.”

The compliment lured a half smile out of her. Her weight—a steady two fifty—had kept romantic relationships at bay during college, though several guys adopted her as a “sister” while they chased her girlfriends. But she'd lost close to ninety-five pounds since she'd last seen any of them, a feat that began slowly but steadily five years ago— interrupted, though not derailed, by the surprise pregnancy with Ella.

Her college friends would truly be surprised, but the notion that an old buddy might “take a liking” to her was nothing but Hayes trying to pry her out of her funk. It was enough at least to prompt a reply.

“Yeah, I'd better watch out. Might have to beat 'em all back with a stick.”

Hayes chuckled and headed to her luggage. “I should've gotten a plane ticket and come with you. Then
I
could beat 'em back. Ready?” He had the suitcase in hand. “I forgot you've got to find parking too. Wish you'd let me take you.”

She waved him off. “Then we'd have to wake the baby and bring her. I'm fine. Plus, it's no easy task prodding those boys along before school. You'll see.” She stopped as Hayes took the stairs. “Be right down after I kiss the kids.”

“I'll load this in the car,” Hayes said over his shoulder. “And, Phyllis—”

“I know. I'm hurrying.”

Phyllis scurried into the profusion of pink that was Ella's room— soft pink walls, two plush pink area rugs with a border of pink roses in full bloom. Pink in the window valance, side table scarf, the painting on the side of the toy box, the bunny and teddy bear perched atop the toy box, and bold pinks in two framed wall prints. After three boys, she couldn't resist diving headlong into the world of cute and totally girly.

Ella was curled in a ball, her bottom in the air, chest rising and falling gently as she slept. Phyllis's heart melted. This would be her first extended time away from her baby girl. Ella stirred, flopping her head to one side then the other as Phyllis stared from above the crib. The rails were too high for her to reach Ella's face, so she blew a kiss, rubbed her back, and eased out, heading next to Drew and Sean's room. She heard their bodies shifting as the hardwood floor beneath her creaked in the usual places. A faint light seeped through the wide wooden blinds, casting a soft glow on the deep-sea animals painted in motion around the room.

Drew and Sean had grown fascinated with these creatures after a family trip to Sea World, and Phyllis got Hayes to paint the ceiling and upper half of the wall sky blue and the bottom half dark blue for the ocean. Then she traced a variety of fish and other ocean creatures on the dark blue background and badgered Cyd and Dana into helping her bring them to life, despite their insistence that they had no skills with a brush. Dana got so into it that she free-handed some green seaweed in strategic places up the wall. And when Cyd discovered they had sponges, she braved the ladder, which Phyllis wouldn't do, and made clouds on the sky above.

Eight-year-old Sean popped his head up as Phyllis's footsteps neared. “I'm up, Mommy,” he said, struggling to keep his head raised.

He still had a baby face, round with big eyes and long lashes. His little body shivered in his space pajamas, his latest fascination. Phyllis was already pondering how she might get Hayes to paint the planets overhead.

She knelt beside him and caressed his head until it lowered to the pillow again. “It's not time to get up yet, sweetie,” she whispered. “You have a few more minutes till you have to get ready for school.” His eyes were closing as she spoke. “Mommy's leaving for her trip. I'll call you this evening, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” Sean said.

Phyllis leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

She stood and looked at ten-year-old Drew in the top bunk. Since his entire body was buried under the covers, Phyllis assumed he was in a deep sleep until she spied a tiny shaft of light.

“What are you doing?” She climbed a few steps of the wooden ladder and pulled back the twin navy blue blanket.

Drew scrambled to keep his page, closing his book with a finger inside, and turned off his flashlight. With big brown eyes that matched his brothers', he said, “Mom, I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep, and I'm at the part where the Rohirrim arrive at Pelennor Fields.”

“And you were dying to know what would happen?”

Drew had seen
The Lord of the Rings
more times than she thought humanly desirable, and this was his second pass through the books.

He made no apology. “It's just
good
, Mom.”

Phyllis heard Hayes's footsteps downstairs. “Lean over here, my boy.” She kissed him. “I've gotta go, but I love you and I'll call and don't forget your homework on the kitchen table.” She backed down the ladder. “And I'm going to tell Daddy to take that book from you at bedtime tonight.”

“
Mom
.”

Phyllis chuckled as she stepped quickly into the room next door, negotiating an obstacle course of yesterday's clothes, a few CDs, a basketball, a football, and K'nex pieces used to build a roller coaster.

LeBron James greeted her as she came near, his body poised for a slam dunk over Cole's head.

She sighed as she looked at her son, legs long like his dad's, dark and handsome like him too. He was the one who had pressed her the most about asking Hayes to take them to church. Thankfully, he was still asleep. She couldn't bear his disappointment right now, not when she was trying hard herself to keep positive. She'd tell him this evening. Bending, she kissed Cole on the forehead and turned to leave.

“Mom?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Good morning, Cole. I just came to kiss you good-bye.” She tried to tiptoe out.

“Did you ask him?”

Phyllis turned and looked at him with what she hoped was a smile. “Yes, I did. He said you all will do something fun on Sunday.”

Cole frowned and came up on an elbow. “Church
is
fun.” His voice was scratchy. “We have a good time, and my friends are there.” He shook his head. “I don't
get
it. Why won't he take us this
one
Sunday?” He paused. “Does Dad hate God or something?”

“Sweetheart.” Phyllis stooped at his bedside. “Your dad just—”

“Phyllis,
what
are you
doing
?” Hayes called from the bottom of the stairs.

She jumped up, regretting the lack of time to deal with this, yet also relieved. “Cole, this is just one Sunday. Don't lose hope. Maybe God wants to answer your prayers when you least expect it.”

Cole lay silent.

“Sweetheart, I've got to run. I'll talk to you later today, okay?”

She heard nothing as she dashed out of the room and down the stairs. Checking her watch, her eyes widened—7:30. Her flight was scheduled for 8:45. It would take fifteen minutes to drive to the airport, if traffic wasn't bad. She grabbed her purse and tote bag from the credenza in the foyer, and Hayes walked her to the front door.

“Love you, babe.” He gave her a quick kiss and opened the door.

“Love you too.” She headed to Hayes's SUV at the curb, leaving the minivan for him and the kids. “I'll call you this evening.”

Phyllis opened the door, threw her things onto the passenger seat, and started the car. As she drove off, a long sigh filled the air. She'd been under so much stress just to get up the courage to ask Hayes one little question, all for nothing. She should've told the boys no. Now she had to contend with their disappointment as well as hers.

Cole's words reverberated in her mind.
“Does Dad hate God . .
.
?”

Phyllis had a sudden realization that twisted her gut. She'd always prayed for faith and patience, looking to the day when Hayes would have a change of heart . . . but what if she needed faith of a different sort? What if she needed faith to endure because his heart would never change?

She sighed again and put her focus on the trip ahead. Only two days, but she needed them. Two days to laugh and reminisce. Two days to recharge and refresh.

At least, she hoped to return refreshed. Until this morning, she didn't realize just how weary she'd become.

Three

C
YD DASHED DOWN
her front steps to the curb, opened the passenger door, and jumped in. By the way Dana had zoomed down the street in her car, causing the tree trimmers to look about anxiously from their perch, she figured time must be of the essence.

It was nothing new. Dana had an effervescent way about her, not only bubbly but brimming over—big smile, warm hello, full of purpose, ever moving from one thing to the next, sometimes already at the next thing before she needed to be . . . which was usually where Cyd came in. They balanced one another, often joking that Cyd's favorite word was
wait
and Dana's was
go
.

Cyd reached for her seat belt. “Okay, Dana. Where are we going? And I hope a quick lunch figures in somewhere because I haven't eaten yet.”

Dana stared straight ahead, her profile still new and amazing to Cyd. In all the years Cyd had known her, Dana had had umpteen hairstyles, all varying degrees of long and, since college, lightened to a honey blonde. But on a whim two months ago, she got several inches whacked off and decided she'd feel even freer if she returned to her natural color. Her curly hair now sported a short blunt cut that left her neck feeling the breeze. She looked great.

“Dana?” Cyd looked into her friend's face.

“We're going to my house.” Dana's voice was flat, her eyes on the road.

“Really?” Cyd wondered why Dana would pick her up and drive back out to Creve Coeur, twenty minutes away, rather than ask Cyd to meet her there. “Is that where we're
going
, or did you forget something?”

Dana moved a trembling hand through her dark brown locks, then rested it again on the console.

“Dana, why don't you pull over somewhere so we can talk?”

Dana gave a quick shake of the head. “No time.” She sped through a light Cyd was sure had turned red. “But we do need to talk. I, um . . .”

Cyd's heart skipped with the faltering of Dana's voice. Her eyes remained glued on her friend.

“I signed up to volunteer at the school library on Fridays for the month of October.”

Cyd nodded. She already knew that. Half the time, Cyd was the one who reminded Dana what she had scheduled herself to do and when.

Dana took a big breath and let it out. “So that's the only day of the week that I've been out of the house regularly. On the other days, Scott likes to meet me at home for lunch when he can.”

“Oh, I know,” Cyd said, unable to resist this one. “Wasn't Mark conceived over the lunch hour?” She chuckled.

Dana didn't respond in kind.

“Cyd, I think Scott's having an affair.”

Her eyes met Cyd's for the first time, brown, intense eyes that returned quickly to the road.

Cyd frowned. Scott? Not the man who grabbed his wife's hand and drew her close every chance he got. Not the man who looked into his wife's eyes as if the whole world could fall off a cliff as long as she alone remained. Not the man who talked to every young man who would listen about the blessings of finding an excellent wife.

Not the coleader of Living Word's marriage ministry.

“Dana, why would you think such a thing?”

“For one thing, he never comes home for lunch when he knows I won't be there. But when I got home the last two Fridays, I knew he'd been there, 'cause a load of laundry was sitting in the washing machine. Scott chips in around the house, but he does
not
do laundry. When I asked about it, he said he just wanted to help out.”

“Okay,” Cyd said, listening.

Dana stopped at a red light and turned to Cyd. “Both times, our sheets were in the washer, and towels.”

Cyd's stomach tightened. “Okay.” Her mind searched for reasons. “Well, had the two of you, maybe the night before . . . ?”

The light changed, and Dana gunned the engine. “No.” She turned into her subdivision. “That's the other thing. These last couple of weeks he hasn't come to bed when I do, and when I
am
home for lunch, he doesn't show up.”

Cyd frowned again, bereft of a response.

Dana parked around the corner from her house and popped loose her seat belt. “I'm finding out
right now
what's going on.” She flew out of the car.

It suddenly hit Cyd what they were doing. She flew out, too, to coax Dana back in. “Dana! Wait!”

When Dana didn't stop or look back, Cyd sighed and pushed her door to a close, rushing to catch her. She grabbed her friend's arm, pulling her to a stop. “Are you trying to catch him in the act?”

Dana looked aside.

“Oh, Dana! Have you
thought
about this? Have you even prayed? I don't know why you got me into this, I don't know why
you're
getting into this, but I don't have a good feeling about it
at all
.”

Dana took a frustrated step back. “I
knew
you would say this. That's exactly why I didn't tell you in advance. You want to think everything through, pray on it for months, wait for an angel to bring the decree. Sometimes you've just got to move.” She put a hand to Cyd's shoulder. “I need you to come with me. If Scott has someone in there—”