Fatal Deduction (25 page)

I just want peace and quiet, Lord. Is that asking too much? I don’t want to be stretched and twisted and forced into some mold not of my choosing
.

No sympathetic voice from heaven answered with a soothing,
“I understand, Drew. I agree you deserve uninterrupted tranquility. Let Me fix things for you so there are no worries, no tensions, no stress. After all, you’re My favorite person in the whole world, and I’ll see to it that you and you alone have no problems.”

Okay, Lord, so I’m a selfish idiot. Some days being a mere human is hard, but I know it’s not a valid excuse for my anger, resentment, and pride. Forgive me
.

A Ben quote popped into his mind:
“God helps those who help themselves.”
Hard on its heels was one from Scripture:
“Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”

So Your message to me is do something. Do something, but make it something that honors You
.

He thought hard as he retraced his steps to the house. Ruthie was waiting, her earlier desire to die apparently on hold.

“If you give me some money, I’ll leave,” she told him as she trailed him to the kitchen, where he started the coffee maker.

“What does ‘some money’ entail?” There was no way he was giving her money. It’d go to alcohol or worse.

She studied him for a minute as if evaluating her options. She indicated the house with a flick of her hand. “You must be paying significant rent to live here. That means you can’t be hurting.”

“I’m here on a house exchange,” he said patiently. “Didn’t you meet the people living in Colby Creek?”

“Oh. Well, you can still give me some money.”

“What I want to give you is this.” He held out the plastic bag.

She opened it and saw the contents. “What’s this? Used clothes?”

“Clean clothes. Go take a shower, Ruthie.”

She let the bag fall to the floor, folded her arms across her chest, and stared defiantly at him.

He made believe he hadn’t seen the challenge. “When you’re finished, we can talk about what I can give you.”

She studied him as he got a mug from the cupboard. When he paid no attention to her, she eventually picked up the bag and went upstairs to the bathroom. When he heard the pipes creak as the shower started, he breathed a sigh of relief. With a quick prayer, he picked up the phone.

He’d barely hung up when it rang again. It was Libby, voice formal and chilly, asking if Jenna could drive with them to Haydn. “We’re glad to be her refuge.”

Ouch
.

Drew hung up the old-fashioned kitchen wall phone, calling himself all kinds of fool because he still planned to drive to Haydn. Did he think she’d appreciate his presence, his support? Too bad he
hadn’t brought his winter parka with him. He might need it if there was no thaw in her manner.

He turned and found Ruthie watching him with a mocking smile. She had showered and put on the clothes Libby lent her. She still looked too thin, but at least she no longer appeared ill. And she no longer smelled, or at least she didn’t smell bad. The scent of soap and shampoo competed with the aroma of coffee.

“Trouble with the little fiancée?”

First things first, he thought. “She’s not really my fiancée. That was Jenna’s little joke.”

“Strange joke.”

“She’s thirteen.” Drew moved to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Want one?”

Ruthie shook her head. “I’ll take an orange juice.”

Wow. Something healthful. He pulled the Tropicana No Pulp (because Jenna couldn’t stand pulp) from the fridge and poured a glassful. Ruthie took it with a murmured thanks.

Unfortunately the surcease would be only temporary. As soon as he gave her his message, she’d be off the walls again. He rubbed at the ache once again thundering through his head. But it was as Ben said: “Even peace may be purchased at too high a price.” The price of peace with Ruthie, at least for the moment, was Jenna, and it was incontrovertibly too high.

“I called Del while you were showering, Ruthie.”

“What?” She was on her feet, fury sparking from her eyes, orange juice forgotten.

“He and Peg will be here Thursday.”

“You had no right.”

He took a sip of coffee. “I have a right to ask anyone I want to my house, and if I want to ask your parents, I will.”

She had no answer to that. “I don’t want to see them.”

“You don’t have a choice. In fact, they’re going to take you home with them.”

Her eyes went wide and wild. “I’m not going! You can’t make me.”

He wasn’t going to touch the “you can’t make me” part because he wasn’t sure he could make her. What was he to do? Carry her out kicking and screaming? That’d really be good for Jenna. “You are going. You have no choice. It is not debatable.”

She collapsed in her chair. Her face crumpled. “You’d kick your own wife out?”

“Ruthie, you are not my wife. You haven’t been for years and by your own choice. I think it’s time you stopped dragging that argument out. It will not work. But you are Del and Peg’s daughter, and they love you and want you to come home with them.”

“I don’t want to go. They’ll beat me up with God.”

“They won’t, and we both know it. They are kind, gracious, and loving people. You have put them through hell, but they are still there for you.”

“But you aren’t?”

“No, I’m not. You have forced me to choose between you and Jenna.”

“You can have us both,” she cried.

He shook his head. “I’m still the same dull and pedantic man you disliked before. Colby Creek is still the same college town filled with the same academic types.”

“But I like being with you.” Desperation tinged her voice.

“You like having a temporary roof over your head.”

“I’ll be good, Drew. I will! I won’t drink. I won’t smoke. I won’t shoot up. I won’t sleep around. I promise.”

Shoot up? He wasn’t all that surprised. It explained why she was
just skin and bones. “For how long, Ruthie? But that’s not the point. You’re making Jenna feel unwelcome in her own home.”

“She makes me feel guilty.” She stared at the floor as she made this confession. Tears ran down her cheeks. “I don’t like feeling guilty. It makes me too sad. It makes my world too black.”

Drew looked at her. In less than five minutes she’d been furious, desperate, and awash in self-pity. “Ruthie, have you ever thought about joining a bipolar support group? Or getting involved in church again?”

“Hello, my name is Ruth and I’m bipolar? Not in this lifetime.”

“Then what about church?”

She turned sly. “I could go with you.”

Why did he try? “No, but you could go with your parents.”

She held up her arms, palms facing out. “No. You or not at all.”

Another quote from Scripture flashed through his mind.
“Fathers, do not exasperate your children.”

“I’m making the choice for Jenna, Ruthie. She has no one but me. You have Del and Peg. You’ll go with them, and she stays with me. That’s the way it’s going to be.”

“But I don’t like it that way.”

“I’m sorry about that, but it changes nothing.” Drew noticed his headache lessening. Just showed what making decisions could do for your health. “Your dad and I have decided to buy you a one-bedroom condo about a mile from their place.”

“I don’t want a condo in my hometown!”

He ignored her protest. “This way you will always have a place to live, but you don’t have to live with your parents. You may leave there whenever you want, but you will always have someplace to come back to if things get rough.”

Her anger reappeared. “You just want to make that blond bimbo your real fiancée.”

The thought of protesting Ruthie’s description of Libby flashed through his mind, but he stifled it. Rabbit trail. “I can think of worse things.”

“Like me living here.”

He did not contradict her.

She stormed out of the room, and when he left for Haydn later in the afternoon, he still hadn’t seen her again.

When we arrived at my parents’, the front door was open, letting in the heat. That in itself indicated that today was a special day. The girls and I climbed out of the van and walked to the house carrying our various offerings. Chloe and Jenna had made chocolate chip cookies and managed not to eat all the dough before baking. I carried a bowl of freshly cut fruit, the palette of melons and citrus, grapes and berries glorious to the eye. I gave a quick knock for courtesy’s sake and stepped inside.

I saw my father almost at once. He had always been a big man, and he’d spent a lot of his incarceration pumping iron. At fifty-two he looked strong and healthy, though pale. A few days working in his bedraggled garden would bring his color back.

He saw me at the same time I saw him and opened his arms. “Libby!” He grabbed me in a bear hug, and Jenna grabbed the fruit bowl to keep it from being dumped on the rug.

Dad stepped back and grinned at me. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come celebrate your old man’s release. Religion does strange things to people sometimes, and Mimi’s told me that you get more religious all the time.”

I bit back a comment and said, “It’s wonderful to see you, Dad.” And it was. My eyes filled with tears, and I prayed fiercely that he would keep his nose clean. And that he would find Jesus.

“And there’s my Chloe!” He grabbed her and gave her a bear hug too. I grabbed the chocolate chips. “I tell you, I’m too young to have a beautiful, grown-up granddaughter like you.”

Chloe blushed, pleased at the compliment. “This is my new friend, Jenna, Granddad.”

Jenna appeared a bit uncertain, like she wasn’t sure how to greet an ex-con, but Dad put her at ease with a pat on the shoulder. “I’m glad you came with Chloe, Jenna. The poor kid needs someone her own age instead of all us old guys.”

“Well, Libby, you made it.” Mom came to stand beside Dad. “I wasn’t sure you’d bother.”

I sighed inwardly and forced a smile. I never meant to make Mom unhappy, and quite truthfully I wasn’t certain how I did it, but somehow it always happened, even before I became a believer, just more strongly after. “Of course I’d come. This is a very big day.”

She ignored my assurance. “Well, your sister beat you. She arrived in a limo.”

I’d arrived in my flaking van.

“She looks beautiful, very stylish.”

I was wearing khaki slacks and a white polo.

“She’s in the kitchen helping out with the final touches on the food platters.”

I was standing in the living room talking.

I forced another smile. “I’ll just take these things out and see how I can help.” I held out the fruit and the cookies, both of which I’d somehow ended up holding. She ignored them and so brushed aside the hours we’d spent making them.

Remember, Libby, you did this for Jesus, not for your mother
.

Still, my black cloud released a little drizzle.

“Hey, Jack! Welcome home!” The next-door neighbors came in the front door, Mrs. Edgar with a tray of brownies in hand.

“Pete and Laura!” Mom said, all smiling and welcoming. “Thanks for coming over. And, Laura, what wonderful-looking brownies! How thoughtful of you.”

As Mom and Dad turned their attention to the Edgars, Chloe sidled up to me.

“How are you going to talk to Aunt Tori about the jewelry with all these people here, Mom?” she whispered. She was worried, and I knew exactly how she felt.

I shrugged as Dad dragged the Edgars over to greet me. While we tried to establish how long it’d been since we’d last seen each other, Dad turned to Chloe and Jenna.

“Why don’t you girls sit in the rockers on the front porch and say hi to everybody who shows up?” For a moment he looked uncertain. “That’s assuming anyone bothers to come.”

“Of course people will come,” Mom said quickly. “You have lots of friends, Jack, and you know it.”

“Had,” Dad said. “Back then. We’ll see about today.”

There was a small silence. Then Dad grabbed the cookies from my hand. “Here, girls. Take these for sustenance.”

“The girls made those for your party, Dad,” I said as Chloe took the bag of cookies with a smile.

“Yeah?” He beamed at them and they beamed back. “That was so nice of you! Make sure you get a glass of iced tea or lemonade or Coke or something to wash them down.”

The girls grabbed a soda from the cooler in the dining room and ran to the porch.

“Hey, Jack, you get to watch the Phillies much in there?” Mr. Edgar asked. “Not that you missed much if you didn’t.”

I left Mom and Dad and the Edgars and went to the kitchen with my unacknowledged bowl of fruit. I found Nan and Tori leaning against the counters. Tori had a fistful of plastic wrap that she had pulled from platters of lunch meat and cheese purchased at the supermarket, her “helping out with the final touches.” The platters themselves sat ready to go out onto the dining room table.

When the two of them saw me, all conversation stopped. Of course I immediately assumed they had been talking about me. A few more drops fell on my head.

Nan gave me a tight smile. “Glad you came, Libby.”