Love's Image (10 page)

One quick glance at the speedometer let her know she was driving way too slow. She offered a wave to the person behind her and accelerated a little harder. But not too fast. Each mile per hour she increased seemed to speed up her heart rate.

Finally, when she took her last turn back into the parking lot, she blew out the breath she’d been holding. She’d done it. She’d gotten back behind the wheel and driven—something she wasn’t certain she’d ever be able to do.

It wasn’t until she got out of her car and stood up that she realized how traumatic her experience had actually been. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she had to grab on to the car to keep from falling to the asphalt.

Shannon knew she needed help. And she needed it very soon.

She spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating what kind of help she needed to seek. After being away from Atlanta so long, she had no idea who to call. Janie had always been such a together person, so she probably didn’t know anyone to refer her to. Her mother’s solution to the problem would be to get plastic surgery and head straight back to a modeling career, hopefully picking up where she left off.

Then she thought about Judd. She felt more comfortable around him than anyone besides Janie. Surely, she could talk to him about this, and he’d understand. Maybe he’d know someone, or at least have a direction to point her toward. Now, with that settled, Shannon headed for the kitchen to whip up something healthy for dinner. She needed to get back to as normal a life as possible, and just because she didn’t see herself going back to modeling didn’t mean she shouldn’t be careful what she put into her mouth.

The phone rang exactly half an hour after Judd was scheduled to get out of school. He’d been calling her every day at the same time, asking how she was doing.

“Whatcha been up to all day?” he asked as he always did.

She found comfort in the familiarity of his voice. “You’re not going to believe this, but I drove a little.”

“You’re right! I don’t believe it. Where’d you go?”

“Just around the block.”

If she’d been talking to anyone else, Shannon wouldn’t even have mentioned her short excursion, but she felt completely comfortable with him. He seemed to understand the significance of what she’d done.

“That’s a great start. And not a bad idea. You can go just a little farther each day until you’re back to your old self.”

Good. He’d given her an opening to ask her question.

“Speaking of getting back to my old self, do you know anyone I can talk to?”

“You can talk to me, Shannon.”

“I know. But I mean about some deep things. Like mental problems.”

“Mental problems?” he asked. “I don’t think you have mental problems. What you’re dealing with is a normal fear after an immensely traumatic experience.”

“Whatever you want to call it, I need to talk to someone.”

“How about my uncle?”

“The pastor?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good with things like this.”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell you what, Shannon; let me talk to him and see what he says. He might be able to help you, and if he can’t, he can refer you to someone who can.”

She paused for a few seconds. “Okay, that’s fine.”

“Now, for tonight. Since you’re driving, would you like to meet somewhere?”

“I haven’t worked up the courage to drive at night yet.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up. How about dinner? Do you have plans?”

Shannon remembered the extra large salad she’d made and put in the refrigerator. It was plenty big enough for both of them if she added a little of the chicken her mother had brought.

“Why don’t you come over here for dinner?”

“I thought you couldn’t cook.”

“I can’t. I just tossed some romaine in a bowl with a few tomatoes and some celery. Mom brought marinated chicken breasts. I thought we could have that.”

“Yum. You make healthy eating sound good. What time do you want me there?”

As soon as Shannon gave him the time, they hung up. He then turned around and dialed his uncle’s office number at the church.

“Hey, Judd. Whatcha need?”

Judd told him about Shannon’s need to seek counseling. “I think she’s got a few issues she hasn’t told me about, and she needs someone to give her some guidance.”

“I’ll be glad to talk to her, Judd. What’s her number?”

After giving his uncle Shannon’s number, Judd hung up and grabbed the shopping list Aunt LaRita had given him. Although his aunt and uncle had told him he could live with them rent-free until he saved enough for his own place, he insisted on helping out wherever possible. LaRita had reluctantly given in and handed over occasional lists that freed her up to do some of the charity work she enjoyed.

Without another moment of hesitation, he ran the errands, then went home to put things away. A quick shower and shave later, Judd was on his way to Shannon’s place.

She greeted him at the door, wearing a pink velour jogging suit and running shoes, with her blond hair hanging naturally over her shoulders. She was beautiful in spite of the scar she hadn’t bothered trying to hide with makeup.

“Your uncle called almost right after we hung up. You don’t waste time, do you?”

“No, there’s no point. What’d he say?”

“I have an appointment with him tomorrow afternoon.”

“Talking about not wasting time. Must be genetic.”

“I just hope he doesn’t think I’m shallow and self-absorbed.”

Judd felt a thud in his chest at the look of helplessness on her face. “Why would he think something like that?”

“I don’t know.” She held her hands up as she shook her head. “It just seems that all I can think about anymore is how I feel about things.
My
fears,
my
career,
my
happiness. Somehow, it all seems so wrong to be thinking about myself so much.”

“I think that’s all normal stuff to think about.”

“Yeah, but not to this degree.”

“You’ve got to give yourself some time, Shannon. You’ve just been through one of the most harrowing experiences a person can have. Be patient with yourself.”

She audibly sighed. He watched the range of emotions flit across her face. She finally nodded.

“You’re probably right. But I still need to get help. I can’t do this alone.”

“You’re not alone. You have a whole bunch of people praying for you.”

She smiled. “I know, and I appreciate every prayer that’s offered.”

Something had changed in her. Judd noticed that, even when she gave lip service to accepting prayer, she didn’t seem to believe it like she had a couple days ago.

“Come on into the kitchen. The salads are ready. All I have to do is make some tea, and we can eat.”

Following her into the kitchen, Judd noticed how her strides were long and purposeful. As each day passed, she was getting stronger physically, but she obviously didn’t realize it. He was beginning to see the confidence of a world-class supermodel. That was good, but he worried she’d eventually have no use for someone as normal and plain as him.

Once they were seated at the kitchen table, Shannon propped her elbows on the table and leaned toward him.

“You wanna say the blessing, or do you want me to?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Judd said. “Whatever you want.”

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Sure, I’m fine,” he replied with a smile. “Why don’t you say the blessing?”

“Thank you, Lord, for the blessing of this food,” she began, sounding unsure of herself. “We’re thankful for your kindness and mercy. Amen.”

As she spoke, Judd wondered where her conviction was. She certainly didn’t sound sincere. Something had happened to her since he’d last seen her.

She chatted happily as they ate. He didn’t have to say much, which suited him just fine. Once they were finished, he stood to carry the dishes to the sink.

“Leave those,” she told him. “Let’s get started on the Bible study. I’m eager to get ahead again.”

Judd didn’t argue with her. He followed her into the living room and sat on the chair across from the loveseat where she’d flopped.

Throughout the evening, he felt somewhat mechanical, just going through the motions of discussion and answering questions. Finally, when they got to the end of the week’s lesson, he shut his workbook.

“Well, I guess that’s it for now. I need to run. I have to get up early in the morning for school. We’re doing poetry this week, and I always start each day reading some of my favorite poems.”

“You like poetry?” she said, sounding surprised. “Of course. I’m an English teacher.”

“What’s your favorite?”

Judd shrugged. “Anything but the dark stuff. I have to admit, I tend to be a romantic when it comes to poetry.”

Suddenly, her eyes glazed over. He must have said something wrong, because the bright, cheery smile she wore had suddenly disappeared.

“Good night, Shannon,” Judd said as he walked out the door where she stood, holding it open. “See you soon.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “G’night.”

Whatever had happened in her apartment was a mystery to him. While nothing physical had happened, it seemed like the night had been a major turning point—and not in a good direction. His heart sank at the memory of the look on her face as he left.

Armand had loved poetry, too, Shannon remembered. But he was the opposite of Judd. His favorite poet was Poe, king of darkness.

After Judd left, she closed and locked the door before going to the kitchen to clean up the small mess from dinner. He’d offered to help, and perhaps she should have let him, but she didn’t want him to see how much effort she was having to put into maintaining her equilibrium.

He kept looking at her, almost as if he was confused by something. That had made her very uncomfortable and self-conscious.

She noticed that he was quiet tonight, almost moody. He’d tried to pretend nothing was wrong, but she could tell something bothered him.

After the dishes were done, she went through her nightly routine of flipping through magazines, channel surfing, then giving up and going to bed. She grabbed her Bible off the loveseat where she’d left it and placed it on the nightstand. After she got ready for bed, she picked it up, looked at the cover, then put it back. She was tired. She didn’t feel like reading or trying to find comfort in scripture at the moment. Her heart felt too heavy for something like a gospel message to be able to help.

After a long night of tossing and turning, Shannon crawled out of bed and plodded to the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, she studied her face in the mirror and took a really good, long look at her scar. It was still bad.

Then she thought about the guy who’d hit her. He was dead. Although people around her had tried to cover the details, she’d learned that he had a wife and young children. Yes, it was his fault that he’d been drinking and should never have been behind the wheel. But what about those kids? They were innocent, and just because of some stupid error in judgment on their father’s part, they’d grow up without a father. Shannon couldn’t imagine what life would have been like without her dad in her life.