Secrets over Sweet Tea (18 page)

If Sylvia’s teeth weren’t her own, she had just swallowed them. But in a moment she found her voice, which collided with her pride and came out practically strangled. “I have no secrets.”

Scarlett Jo laughed. “When no one has secrets, then those flying pigs we’ve been talking about for the last umpteen hundred years are going to take off. You may not be ready to talk about yours, but when you are, I’ll be right here. Now I’ve got to go. Bye.” She used her long orange-painted nail to click her phone off before Sylvia could spew whatever other nonsense she wanted to spew.

She pulled at the elastic of her Pilates pants and let it snap back around the crease that rested between the two folds of girth she claimed Rhett had given her. Not exactly a model’s figure—at least not these days. But she wasn’t worried. She could live with being called curvy. Jackson had no complaints. And as long as she did it for him, she didn’t need to do it for anyone else. There was enough of that running through the water as it was.

“Jack, let’s get a move—” She stopped when she caught sight of her oldest standing at the door, waiting on her. “How did I not have to beg you to do this?”

“Hey, Grace Shepherd is hot. You don’t have to beg me to cut the grass of a woman who looks like that.”

Scarlett Jo’s palm collided with the back of his head, and she grabbed her bright-orange handbag as they walked out the door. “Grace Shepherd is married.”

“She’s filed for divorce.”

“She is way too old for you.”

“Haven’t you heard of cougars, Mom? They like younger guys. Who wouldn’t want some of this?” he said, hands colliding with his chest like Tarzan.

She gave him the mama eye and moved in close. “If I catch anyone getting some of this—” she mimicked his chest pounding—“I will give you some of this.” She raised her hand like she was about to slap the stew out of him.

He laughed from a deep place, then leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re funny.”

“Yeah, I’ve got your funny.”

He draped a long arm over her shoulder as they headed down the street. “Love you, Mama.”

She elbowed him. He let out a fake grunt. She laughed. “I love you too.”

Grace opened her door as they came up her walk. Scarlett Jo heard Jack let out a soft and slow “wow.”

Grace’s blonde hair fell softly at her shoulders, and her warm smile lit up the entry. “You didn’t have to do this. I can call a yard guy.”

Scarlett Jo cupped a hand around her mouth like a megaphone. “Yard guy! Grace needs you!” Then she pushed Jack forward. “Oh, here he is. Got him. This is the yard guy you need. He is efficient. Reliable.” Each word came out more as a
directive than a declaration. “And he works cheap. As in f-r-e-e, free. And he is four doors down, so if he oversleeps, you can come wake him up yourself.”

“That would be nice,” Jack mumbled.

Scarlett Jo nudged him harder than she had earlier. This time the grunt was real.

“Well, I’m very appreciative.” Grace turned her brown eyes toward Jack. “Thanks, Jack. Just let me know what I owe you in spite of what your mother here says.”

Jack eyed his mama. She eyed him back. He looked at Grace. “No, ma’am. I’m glad to help.”

“Well, the mower is in the garage, ready to go. I’ve got the door raised for you. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.” And with that he made his escape from his mother.

Grace moved out of the doorway and opened it wide for Scarlett Jo. “You’ve raised some wonderful boys.”

“They can be. Yes.” She stepped into the foyer, set her purse down on the bench, and wrapped her arms around Grace. “How are you this morning?”

“Numb, I think.” Grace led her down the hall. “I’ve already had a full morning. I feel like I could crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Want some tea?”

“I’d love it.” Scarlett Jo followed her into the kitchen. Grace’s mom stood at the counter by the refrigerator as if keeping watch over the coffeepot. The aroma of brewing coffee saturated every molecule of air in the kitchen.

“Scarlett Jo, I’d like you to meet my mother, Lydia Clancey.”

Scarlett Jo’s mouth flew open. “Oh, my side, you look exactly like Grace.”

Grace met her mother’s eyes, and both smiled as if they’d heard that for years. No wonder. They had the same blonde hair, caramel eyes, and slender frame.

“I’ve got to hug you.”

Grace laughed as Scarlett Jo pulled her mom in an enthusiastic embrace. “Mom, this is Scarlett Jo Newberry.”

“Ooh, you are simply the cutest thing ever,” Scarlett Jo enthused. “Grace, how did you and your mom get so cute? I swear, it’s like I could just pick you both up and put you in my big ol’ handbag.”

Grace’s mom staggered a little when Scarlett Jo released her, but her smile was warm. “Grace has told me so much about you, Scarlett Jo. And I want to thank you for the gift you’ve been to my daughter. We had no idea what all was going on, and we are so relieved to know she has such wonderful friends to walk with her.”

Scarlett Jo pulled out a stool from beneath the counter and perched on it. “Grace is easy to be friends with.”

“Would you like some coffee?” Lydia asked.

Scarlett Jo puckered her nose.

“Don’t like coffee?” Lydia said.

She just shook her head and smiled, choosing not to say what she really thought about coffee in front of this complete stranger. And Jackson thought she couldn’t keep her mouth shut!

Grace laughed. “I’ll get you some tea.” She poured a glass and carried it to Scarlett Jo. “I saw Zach Craig today. I went over to fire him as my lawyer.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, but he kind of wouldn’t let me.”

“What do you mean?”

Grace ran her fingers down the side of her glass, where condensation was already building. “Well, he told me he’d understand if I left, but he would fight for me if I stayed. He said he may not be good at anything else, but he’s a good lawyer.”

“He is good.” Scarlett didn’t say anything more. She had just reprimanded Sylvia for running her mouth, so there was no way she was going to run hers.

“Anyway, he’s got me reconsidering,” Grace said.

“So why exactly did you want to fire him?”

Grace found some indignation as she raised her head and looked straight at Scarlett Jo. “He’s been cheating on his wife.”

“I’d say that’s a pretty well-announced fact. I’m thinking she could have posted it in the
Tennessean
and gotten less of a response than by telling a group of Southern churchgoers.”

“Anyway, I don’t need that kind of drama in my life. But I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I wish you could have seen him today. He wasn’t his put-together self. He was flustered and nervous. And ashamed—I could see shame.”

Scarlett Jo tilted her head. “And that looked kind of familiar, huh?”

Tears suddenly flowed, and Grace didn’t seem to fight them. “I’ve never felt shame like this. I was raised to believe you don’t get divorced. My mom and dad have been married for forty years.” She nodded toward her mother, who was reaching for a tissue from the box on the island. “My brother’s marriage has lasted for thirteen. How do you get rid of the shame?” Her voice broke, and she lowered her head into her hands, elbows on the counter.

Scarlett Jo patted her back. “Oh, sugar, shame is a cruel companion. Don’t even try to take a trip with it ’cause it’ll snuff the life right out of you.” She took the tissue from Grace’s mother and handed it to Grace. “See, it’s okay to feel ashamed of something you’ve done and take it to the Lord for forgiveness. But to just walk around in shame is basically to say that God’s grace isn’t enough for you—that it may be all right for everyone else, but not for you. That’s a big ol’ lie because God’s grace is either deep enough and wide enough for all of us . . . or none of us. And shame carries another lie, too—that we’re worthy of something in the first place. That we can act a certain way and that will make us good enough or right enough. But the thing is, you can’t ever be good enough or right enough. None of us can. That’s why we need Jesus so much. Hey, you need another tissue, baby girl?”

Grace sniffed and nodded. Lydia brought the box over to her daughter.

“Anyway, you’ve got to move past that shame,” Scarlett Jo continued. “You’ve got to see it for what it is. It’s okay to grieve over the breakdown of your marriage. And it’s okay to confront your stuff, the pieces you got wrong. All of that is healthy. You probably even have some sin you need to repent of and ask forgiveness for. But I’m telling you, shame can’t be a part of this journey. If you want to heal, you’ve got to see shame for the lie that it is and move forward.”

“I just never wanted to be the ‘divorced’ woman.”

Scarlett Jo felt her large gold hoop earrings beat the sides of her face as she shook her head. “When people meet you, I guarantee they’re not thinking,
There goes a divorced woman.
They may see a tired woman, a hurt woman. But divorce isn’t
a banner or a badge you carry. It’s not who you are; it’s just a piece of your story. And it’s not where the story ends. Don’t you ever forget that.” Scarlett Jo could see that register with Grace. “This is not your defining. It is your
re
fining.”

Grace looked directly at her, eyes swollen with tears. “I did play a part in this, Scarlett Jo. It wasn’t only Tyler. It was me too. I should have stopped so many things so long ago—stopped covering for him, stopped trying to be his mother, stopped living in such fear. Stopped judging him. I did. I judged him. Thought my way was the right way and he needed to do things differently. At least I told him that a lot in the beginning. Then I finally quit saying anything at all because I was afraid—afraid of people knowing our secrets, scared of how he would respond, afraid of starting a fight. Afraid of this . . .” Her voice trailed off. “The very thing I am living now is what I was so scared of. And if I had known I would be here anyway, I would have let all the balls drop so much sooner. I would have just released them and let them drop!”

Grace’s voice was now passionate and sharp. “I want it out of me, Scarlett Jo.”

Scarlett Jo raised her eyebrows. “What do you want out, baby girl? Because saying ‘I want it out of me’ can mean a whole bunch of different things to a woman who lives with six males.”

Grace’s burst of laughter came through her tears. Her mom laughed too. “Whatever got me here, whatever there is in me that let this happen—that helped this happen—I want it out of me.”

“Well, then, that’s all you’ve got to say. Let the good Lord know you want it out, and I assure you he’ll give you opportunities to get it out. There are two sides to every story, but God’s working on every side.”

Grace dabbed her eyes with wadded tissues, her tearstained cheeks still beautiful. “There are probably two sides to Zach’s story too.”

Scarlett Jo opened her mouth, then shut it quickly. But Grace had seen her. “You know something about that, don’t you?”

Scarlett Jo bit her lip, fighting the urge to say anything.

Grace prodded her. “You can tell me.”

Scarlett Jo shook her head wildly and spoke through pressed lips. “Nope. Can’t. Jackson would kill me.”

Grace elbowed her softly. “Come on.”

“Grace, leave her alone,” her mother scolded.

“No, can’t say anything.”

Grace smiled. “It’s okay. I don’t need to know. All I know is, as one-sided as my divorce feels, I definitely played a part in getting us to this point. After living that many years with dysfunction, you can’t help but start acting dysfunctionally, or you wouldn’t stay. So I’m assuming the same is true for Zach. Which means I need to give him the benefit of the doubt, right?”

Scarlett Jo bit her lip again and shrugged.

“I’ll do that.”

Scarlett Jo exhaled slower, grateful for Grace’s kindness in letting her off the hook. Jackson would like this girl.

Zach parked in front of Jackson’s house and let the engine idle. He needed to gather his thoughts and his courage before he went in.

The fallout from last weekend’s freak show at church hadn’t been as bad as he had expected. At least it wasn’t bad so far. Apparently the associate pastor, Stan Hammond, had addressed the congregation after Zach and Jackson left and said he expected what had happened there to stay there. He’d reminded them that the enemy was in a desperate battle for each one of their hearts as well, and he felt this experience had been given to them as a church body to see how trustworthy they were with other people’s hearts.

Zach wasn’t sure what all that meant. But he did know that no other client besides Grace had tried to fire him, and
fortunately she had changed her mind. He flinched every time the phone rang, though.

He was still staying at the hotel. He had called the girls each night at their grandmother’s and never let on that anything was wrong. His dad and Jackson had encouraged him to give Caroline some space, so he hadn’t seen her since that morning at church. There had been no legal action on either side as of yet. But he was about to see her now.

Jackson had arranged this meeting to at least get them talking. And Zach was more nervous than he had been before his first kiss. And not just nervous. What sat in his gut right now was dread. Fear. Anxiety. Panic. They were all colliding inside him like bad Mexican food.

He turned off the ignition and felt the car come to rest beneath him. If only his pulse could do the same. He stepped out and walked up the front steps. The walkway was lined with the brightest flowers he had ever seen—big bursts of yellow and hot-pink and purple blooms. Exactly the kind of flowers you’d expect Scarlett Jo to have in her yard.

She opened the door before he even got to the top step. “Zach. Hey, sugar, come right on in here. Jackson is in his study.” Her smile looked as broad as her hips in that tight blue skirt. She pounded him on the back as he came through the door. If she had played football, she’d have been a linebacker.

“Thank you, Scarlett Jo.” He rubbed his hands together nervously. “Is Caroline here?”

“No, not yet, honey. But I’ll send her in as soon as she gets here. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure. That would be great.”

“You got a preference?”

“No, no. Anything is fine.”

She thumped his back again, a little more gently this time. “Well, you go right on in there to the office, and I’ll bring something to you.”

“Okay.” She left him there for a minute. He rocked in his loafers and pulled at the fabric of his blue Izod shirt, which hung loosely over his khaki pants. He walked slowly toward Jackson’s office and paused in the doorway. Jackson had his back to the door, looking for something on the bookshelves.

Every inch of the office was inviting. Sunshine streamed in through big windows to the French doors where Zach stood. The walls and thick moldings were all painted a clean white that set off the dark hardwood floor and heavy furniture.

Zach stared a moment longer and breathed a quick prayer.
Please don’t let this be a train wreck.
It was the first prayer he had managed all week. He was grateful he still knew how.

Zach spoke. “I’m here.”

Jackson turned, his face lit up with a genuine smile. “Hey, man, great to see you.” He walked over and gave him a hug, then motioned to the sofa. “Sit. Please sit.”

Zach took a seat and rubbed his hands on his knees.

Jackson pulled an armchair over from the other side of the room and brought it closer to the sofa. “Long week, huh?”

Zach let out a small laugh. “Interminable.”

“Any backlash?”

“No, not really. A few friends of mine and Caroline’s have called, so she is obviously talking to her friends. But around town, it doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of gossip or anything. I can’t believe it, honestly.”

“Well, that makes me very grateful. It says a lot about our church, I think.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Scarlett Jo. Her large frame loomed in the open doorway, but as she stepped aside, Zach caught sight of Caroline. Their eyes locked on each other as Scarlett Jo announced the obvious: “Fellas, Caroline is here.”

Both Zach and Jackson stood immediately. Zach was grateful Jackson had words in that moment because he had just lost control of his ability to speak.

Caroline entered the room. Jackson welcomed her with a quick but kind embrace, and she gave him a tense smile. Then she was beside Zach. He didn’t know what to do with her. Did he hug her? Simply nod?

“Hey,” he offered.

“Hi” was all she gave in return.

Scarlett Jo clapped her hands together, causing him to jump a little. “I’ll be right back with something to drink.”

Her absence created a chasm in the room. He wished she’d stayed.

“How are you?” he asked Caroline, reaching out awkwardly to touch her arm.

It was rigid. Nothing new there. “Fine.”

He turned his eyes toward Jackson, who read his desperation. “Why don’t you both have a seat?”

Zach watched as Caroline straightened her peach-colored sundress. She was perfectly put together, as always. Hair perfect. Dress perfect. Shoes and makeup and smile—all perfect. There had been moments in their life together when he wanted to reach into all that perfection and mess it up. Could that
be partly what his behavior was about—a way to make everything less perfect? Or maybe to reveal how fake and imperfect it already was.

He didn’t know. Maybe that was an excuse. And he knew it didn’t really excuse anything.

Caroline turned her head toward him as if she knew he was studying her in some way. The edges of her mouth set firmly.

Jackson spoke. “Caroline, I want to thank you for coming. I know you didn’t have to, but both Zach and I are grateful you did.”

Zach didn’t feel grateful at all. Caroline just cupped her hands in her lap and gave Jackson another little smile.

“Well, do either one of you want to say anything?” the pastor went on. “I know you haven’t seen each other or really talked in a week. And last time you did talk, it was—well, hostile, I guess you could say. So I want to give both of you the chance to say something if you want to, now that you’ve had some time to cool down and think.”

Neither of them moved. Zach felt as if the front of his shirt were stretching. The tightness in his chest all but removed his ability to breathe.

Scarlett Jo came to the rescue. “Okeydoke, here’s some sweet tea.” She carried a large tray in and set it on Jackson’s desk. She handed Caroline and Zach each a glass of tea with a small napkin wrapped around the base. Both gave a soft thank-you. She handed Jackson his glass and kissed him on the cheek. He touched her hand softly, and Zach noted their expressions. The knowing. The kindness. The freedom in the way they loved each other. He wasn’t sure he had ever known anything like that.

Scarlett Jo left the room, quietly closing the French doors behind her.

As soon as she was gone, it was as if something loosened his tongue. “Caroline, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve hurt you in the most horrific of ways. I’ve betrayed your trust. I’ve put a wedge in our marriage. But I will do whatever is necessary to make this right.”

He stopped abruptly. That was all he had. He waited. She sat there and looked at him but didn’t speak.

“Do you have anything to say?” he finally blurted.

Then he saw something odd. What seemed like genuine emotion flooded to the surface. Her eyes glistened with the emergence of tears. But she shook her head, saying nothing.

Jackson nodded. “Well, I understand. Sometimes it’s tough to know what to say in situations like these. But I want to share something with you both. You see, as a pastor for some twenty years now, I’ve discovered there are three parts to most affairs. There is the crisis part, which is where you are now. But there is also what led up to the affair and what happens after it. During the crisis part, the couple’s hearts usually want to stay focused on who is to blame. But I care about you both so much I want you to focus on what will get you to a place of healing. So I feel like it is necessary for us to go back and focus on the earlier part. Our goal is to figure out what got
both
of you to this point.”

Zach turned toward Caroline and watched as she gnawed at the inside of her mouth. Her eyes narrowed in the way they did when she entered a place of quiet seething.

“Jackson,” he said, “what got us here is me. My dysfunction
is obviously off the charts. Caroline had nothing to do with getting us here. Everything I did was my decision.”

Jackson nodded. “You’re absolutely right. Everything you did with Elise was your decision. But why do you think you made that decision? Pain is often what forces us to places of hiding out, which is usually what affairs are. They are a way to hide from something we don’t want to deal with, something that is too painful. And usually both partners contribute to that in some way. So what is it for you?”

Zach hadn’t expected a question. And he didn’t want Caroline to explode right here in the pastor’s office. He knew what her explosions looked like.

“Well, I don’t . . . I’m not sure I know exactly why. It’s just . . . It’s been hard.”

Caroline’s head snapped around. “Hard? It’s been hard for
you
? What are you talking about?” Her anger was still under wraps, but it seeped through her words, as deadly as carbon monoxide.

“I’m not saying you made it hard, babe. I’m just saying . . . well . . .” He dropped his head, and his next words came out more as a mumble. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

He raised his head and looked to Jackson for rescue, but Jackson just pressed harder. “What were you running away from, Zach? Because I’ve learned that with most decisions in life, we’re either running
to
something that is healthy and alive or running
from
something that we’re trying to avoid. With adultery, you’re almost always running from something.”

Zach was getting frustrated. He didn’t want to say anything bad about Caroline. She was already teetering between explosion and nuclear meltdown. Besides, it was
his
fault. It was
all
his fault. “I guess I was running from me. From my poor decisions. I was running from my stuff.” Okay, that all sounded good. But he could tell by Jackson’s face he wasn’t buying a lick of it.

“Well, sure,” Jackson said. “We all run away from ourselves a lot. But let’s take this a little further. What in your heart was so broken that you felt like you needed to run away from your wife and to another woman?”

Caroline’s knee was moving quickly up and down. One wrong word, one wrong move, and he was certain she would pounce. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t know.”

“How about you, Caroline? What do you feel might have gotten you and Zach here? Have you been running from anything?”

He could tell her eyebrows wanted to lift. Botox had rendered them useless. But a smooth brow couldn’t mask the anger that perpetually simmered inside. “I don’t run from anything, Pastor. I’m more of an up-front, honest person.”

Jackson nodded. “Okay, everything is up-front and honest. So how did we get here?”

Caroline’s words came out exacting, prickly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean my desire for both of you is your healing. That’s way more important than having the right answers. And to get you past this place of crisis and into any kind of future together, we need to unwrap any pretense and get to what is underneath all this hurt.”

Then Caroline lost it. “We got here because my husband doesn’t know how to keep a commitment. Which I should have known because he never keeps his word to me regarding
anything else either. He’s always telling me he’ll get the car serviced and he never does. He tells me that he’ll take care of something around the house and he doesn’t do it.” She turned to Zach. “I should have known you wouldn’t have any respect for a marriage covenant either.”

Now she was back to Jackson. Zach was getting motion sickness. “I mean, if a man can’t keep his word in the small things, why would you expect him to keep his word in the big things.” It was a question, but she spoke it as a statement.

“Do you have trouble keeping your word, Zach?” Jackson asked.

Her last statement had ignited some indignation. “Caroline, how can you compare getting your car serviced to a marriage covenant? I try to get it all done, and I want to. So my first response when you ask me to do something is to tell you yes. But then I’m slammed at work, and by the time I get home, I just want to relax and talk to the girls and such. If you want to call that not keeping my word, fine, but that doesn’t have anything to do with why we’re here.”

“So why are we here, Zach? Are we here so your pastor friend can look at me and tell me I’m just as messed up as you are?” The gloves were off. The control was gone. Her voice escalated. “Are we here so that you can get some validation for cheating on me?”

Zach looked at Jackson, hoping for help. But Jackson simply leaned back in his chair, apparently willing to let this go on.

She wasn’t finished. “Or, I know—maybe we’re here so you can try to make me as much to blame as you are?” She slammed her drink down on the table next to her and stood. “Well, I can tell you both, I won’t sit here and listen to it. If this is the kind
of counseling you dole out, Pastor—” the words came out laced with sarcasm, the Southern sweetness gone—“then you can save it for your other church members. And you, Zach Craig, can forget me ever doing this again.”