Need You Now (31 page)

“Brad is a good man, a great provider. But I think you're right. He feels like a failure sometimes.” She bit her lip for a moment. “When he's not blaming me for this.”

“Darlene, I'm sure he's not intentionally blaming you.” In strange new territory, Dave felt the need to defend Brad, even though he was having inappropriate thoughts about the man's wife—maybe
because
he was having those thoughts. He'd never cheated on his wife, nor been involved with a married woman. Despite his feelings, he reached over and touched her hand. “And you shouldn't blame yourself either.”

She eased her hand out from under his. As she should have. “I guess I better go home. I hate to leave Grace for too long. I mean, I'm sure she's fine. I just . . .”

“I think we both left half-full baskets at Walmart.” Dave smiled and was glad to see that she did too.

“True. I guess I should finish shopping.”

They walked to the car, and Dave took her back to the store.

“I have a meeting, so I'll have to finish my shopping later,” he said as he pulled in front of the entrance.

“I'm sorry you were busy hearing about my problems and didn't get to do your shopping.”

He couldn't tell her that there was no place he would have rather been, so he simply nodded. “No problem at all. I hope things get better for your family.” He was racking his brain about how he could see her again. Cara had finally stopped talking about Darlene, so he couldn't use his daughter as an excuse. It might be a setback for Cara. But the thought of not seeing Darlene again caused him an unfamiliar pang of anxiety.

“Thank you. For everything.” She smiled, then closed the door.

Dave watched her walk inside until she was out of sight.

He knew he was going to find a way to see her again.

Dear Lord, help me
.

Brad tapped his pen on his desk, glanced at his watch. It was already seven o'clock. If he left now, he wouldn't be home until around eight thirty. He'd left the house early this morning, completed more work than he expected any of his associates to do in a day, and still he felt like it wasn't enough.

Logically, he knew he was trying to overcompensate for the way he'd been treating Darlene and the situation with Grace. Darlene was sad, needed comfort. And Grace just needed her dad to act normal. Since Tuesday, he could hardly face Grace without a knot forming in his throat, and he didn't have the emotional strength to comfort Darlene. Which, in the end, left him feeling like an even bigger failure.

But here he was. Still at work. And not wanting to go home and face anyone.

His prayers had been heartfelt, asking the Lord to guide him, help him to be a better man for his family. He thought about how he and Darlene had prayed together at the counselor's office. He'd often prayed at church, at night before bed, and silently during the day. But never with his wife.

He twirled his pen between his fingers as he pondered why that was. They'd prayed aloud with the children when they were young. Why didn't he ever pray aloud with Darlene?

When no answers came to mind, he figured he would bill out a couple more hours, then maybe he'd be ready to head home. He opened a file on his desk, the most complex corporate tax analysis he had, and buried his head in it.

By the time he took a break, it was nine o'clock. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed home. Darlene answered quickly, as if she'd been waiting for his call.

“Hey. I'm just now getting ready to leave work. I had some stuff I needed to finish.” He looked out his window into the darkness, a mirror of his heart. “But I'm leaving now.”

“Okay. I'll keep your dinner hot.”

Darlene assured him all was well with Grace, but the conversation was strained. Just like every word they'd spoken since Tuesday.

Visions of his precious daughter covered in blood haunted Brad, and he'd even started having bad dreams again, after all these years. Usually he was running . . . trying to get to Grace . . . She was covered in blood, and Brad never could reach her. Last night, his entire family had been covered in blood, and he couldn't get to any of them. Darlene was screaming for him to help them all.

He picked up his keys, shut everything off, and closed the door behind him.

Grace picked up her Amish book. She'd been waiting for her dad to come home, and he'd finally pulled in the driveway at almost eleven o'clock, even later than last night. She'd hugged him, tried to be as cheerful as possible so he'd know she was fine, then she'd come upstairs.

She wondered if her parents were fighting. Actually, they didn't seem to be speaking much at all. Grace knew it was her fault. The images of her parents' faces when they walked into her room the night they'd caught her haunted her several times each day. The last thing she'd ever wanted to do was to cause worry for her parents, to disappoint them.

She thought about what Dr. Brooks had said. “Everyone disappoints and is disappointed throughout their life. It's how we cope with these downfalls that counts.” Then she went on to say that no one was perfect, and those kinds of expectations were unrealistic. In her mind, Grace knew all that. She tried to absorb herself in the story she was reading, but she couldn't focus.

After tossing the book aside, she lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She wanted to be the best she could be, and upsetting her parents, causing them to fight . . . that was only making things worse. She knew she couldn't cut. If her parents found out, they'd go over the edge. But as her anxieties welled inside her, so did the urge. Just one tiny cut, one moment of relief, her mind in another zone, away from everything.

Tears were building, and her heart was beating against her chest. She reached over to her nightstand, hands trembling.

And she called Skylar.

Chapter Fifteen

Darlene almost fell out of the pew when Layla walked into church the following Sunday. Every eye was on the ex–movie star as she glided down the aisle in a fitted ivory dress, her long, wavy blond hair flowing freely past her shoulders. She slid into the pew beside Darlene.

“Oh, don't look so shocked.” Layla pushed back a strand of hair from her cheek. “I was hungry for pancakes.” Then she frowned. “And where've you been anyway?”

“I've been around, Layla,” Darlene whispered. “You tend to give a person the impression that they're bugging you, so I stayed away.”

“Really? I give that impression?” She grinned. “Well, I missed you.”

Darlene stared at Layla for a moment. It had been weeks since she'd seen her, and she was wondering why Layla had decided that church was the place to make her appearance.

“Tom called. He's coming for a visit this week.” Layla smiled broadly. “I'd prayed about it. About us—Tom and me.”

Darlene's jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

“Yes, Darlene. I've been very angry at God, but I decided to reach out to Him.” She paused, raised her chin. “And now today I've come to thank Him.”

Darlene was just glad Layla was in church and happy. “I think that's wonderful,” she said, with the realization that her own prayers had been slipping away from her. It was unintentional, and every time she thought about it, she lifted up prayers on the spot. But her ritualistic prayer offerings seemed to have gone by the wayside in the evenings. She'd been tired, scared, restless, sleepless, and—if she allowed herself to admit it—a bit guilty about confiding her personal family issues to Dave. Brad wouldn't have appreciated it, and she'd never kept anything from him before.

But Dave's tender touch came at a time when her own husband wasn't giving her the time of day, and when she needed it the most.

Then why was she backing off from prayer? She, and her family, needed God more than ever. She thought of the brief prayers she and Brad had said at the counselor's office and realized that she needed both God
and
family, and she wanted to combine them more through prayer. She reached up and touched the dove on her necklace.

After church, Layla followed them back home, and the woman ate more pancakes than Chad. Ansley's eyes bulged as she watched Layla load her plate with syrup.

“You like Mom's pancakes, huh?” Ansley stuffed a bite into her mouth.

“Yes, your mom is a good cook. Well, I mean, I guess she is. She never invites me for dinner, even though I'm over there in that big house all by myself.”

“Layla!” Darlene grinned as she put her fork down. “That is not true. Don't lie to my children.” She pointed around the table at Grace, Ansley, and Chad. “Listen up. Make sure you hear.” Then she turned to Layla. “I'm making chicken-fried steaks and mashed potatoes tomorrow night, Layla. Would you like to have dinner with us?”

Layla grinned. “Of course, Darlene. How nice of you to ask.”

Everyone laughed, even Brad. Darlene pointed a finger at Layla. “You've turned me down in the past, but now we have witnesses. So we'll see you at seven tomorrow night.”

“I love chicken-fried steak.”

Later in the evening, Darlene and Layla sat on the front porch swing. Darlene told her everything about Grace, the counselor, and even how distant she and Brad had been.

Layla was quiet for a long time before she said anything, then she turned to Darlene with tears in her eyes. “You're a good mother, Darlene. And Brad is a good father. And together you're good. I think everything will be all right.” Then she did the totally unexpected. She reached over and squeezed Darlene's hand. “You did the right thing by quitting your job. Grace needs you now. Maybe more than you know.”

Darlene worried that Layla was also talking about Marissa, so she changed the subject. “So tell me about Tom. When will he be here?”

Her face brightened. “Wednesday.”

“Do you think you'll get back together?”

Layla smiled. “Maybe.” She turned to face Darlene. “I made no secret that I have been more than angry at God. But I don't know . . .” She shrugged. “There was a time in my life when I reached out to Him all the time. So I tried to bury those angry feelings, and little by little, I started to pray again. And something inside of me began to change. Next thing I knew, Tom called. Do you think that's a coincidence?”

“No. I believe God answers our prayers. And when He does, we're grateful. But when He doesn't answer our prayers, for reasons we can't possibly know, then we tend to feel abandoned, even bitter.” As Darlene said the words, she wondered if she, too, had been a bit bitter at God lately—about Grace and about the tension between her and Brad.

“Well, He answered my prayers in a big way when Tom called.” Layla's voice had taken on an airy tone. “Did I tell you that Tom's the only man I've ever loved?”

“No. But I think that's wonderful. Brad is the only man I've ever loved too. I can't imagine being without him.”

They rocked back and forth in the swing for a while, the night sky filled with stars. Layla finally spoke in a soft voice.

“I'm sorry I'm not a better person, Darlene. I liked you from the moment I met you . . .” She paused, grinning. “As you scuffled around with that stupid snake under your bed.” She was quiet for a moment. “But most people don't want to be friends with me just to be friends. They usually want something. I guess when you stopped coming around, I realized you didn't really need anything from me.” She nodded toward the house. “You have everything you need right inside those walls.”