The Promise (23 page)

 43 

J
ean had just hung up the phone with Tom's Uncle Henry. She wasn't thrilled about it, but it looked like he was on his way over. And he was just a few blocks away. Apparently, that was who Tom turned to after she asked him to leave the house yesterday. She had always liked Uncle Henry, but right now she was physically and emotionally exhausted.

She hadn't slept well last night, understandably. And it took forever to get Tommy and Carly down for their afternoon nap. She was actually thinking of taking one herself when Uncle Henry called. He promised he'd only stay a few minutes, but she doubted she'd be in any mood for a nap after hearing what he had to say.

She walked out to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of coffee. Tom had texted her three times today. All varying expressions of remorse, regret, and his undying love. She didn't respond to them. Partly because she didn't know what to say, because she didn't know what she felt inside. Mostly, she felt numb. The closest thing she could compare it to was the way she'd felt the day after her mother died.

After fixing her coffee, she heard the low bass sound of a car
pulling up in the driveway. That was quick. She hurried back out to the living room, hoping to catch Uncle Henry before he rang the doorbell and woke the kids. Through the front window, she watched him exit the crazy yellow car he drove. Quietly, she opened the front door.

“Hey, Jean,” he said a little too loudly as he came up the sidewalk.

She gestured for him to keep his voice down. “The kids are still sleeping. If we do this right, they'll stay asleep till we're through. Come on in.” After he stepped in the foyer, she said, “Care for some coffee?”

“No, thanks. Had all the caffeine I can drink for one day.”

“Let's go talk at the dining room table,” she said. “So there's no chance the kids will hear us.” She led the way. She set her coffee down at her usual spot and pulled out the chair. “Can I at least get you some ice water?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” He sat in the chair across from hers. “Aunt Myra and I are so sorry for all you're going through. And I'm not here to judge you or put any pressure on you, one way or the other.”

“I appreciate that. It really has been pretty bad. I knew Tom had been acting off for quite some time now, but I never imagined this.” She came back with the ice water and set it beside him, then sat in her chair. “So Tom spent the night with you guys.”

“He did. Truth is, I found out about him losing his job a few days ago, by accident.”

“How?”

“I just showed up at the coffee shop he started working at, and there he was.”

“Tom is working in a coffee shop?”

“He just started there a little while ago. But yeah. He's there now, as a matter of fact.”

She couldn't picture Tom doing something like that under
any circumstance. But really, at this point, why should anything surprise her?

“He wanted me to ask you whether he could come home tonight, or whether he should come back to our place.”

She sipped her coffee. “You drove all this way to ask me that?”

“No, that's just a small thing. I brought it up just so I wouldn't forget to ask.”

“Well, you can tell him I'm going to need at least another night or two. I know we have to face each other eventually and talk this out. But I'm just not there yet.”

“That's fine. I understand. The other reason I came over, the main reason, is to tell you I don't believe Tom has been unfaithful to you, Jean. I really don't.”

Wow, she didn't expect that. “You don't?”

“I really don't. I don't believe that's what's going on here. As an elder in my church, I've dealt with men who were unfaithful. Sadly, several times. But I can tell, Tom's not lying about that. I can't offer you proof, just my discernment and judgment.”

Jean couldn't help it; her eyes instantly filled with tears. “Excuse me.” She got up and grabbed the box of tissues on the counter. “I thought I was all done crying.”

“That's okay. These are big things you're dealing with.”

She came back to the table and sat down. “Then why did he lie to me all this time about losing his job? That just makes no sense to me. Look, I just found out about that part of this charade a little while ago and I'm already doing okay. It's a little scary, but I'm not freaking out or losing it.”

Uncle Henry sat back, smiled briefly. “I can understand why that would confuse you. And I'm not making excuses for Tom by anything I'm about to say. But there actually is a very credible reason why Tom thought he couldn't tell you. I just spent time with Jim and Marilyn going over this, and they think this makes a lot of sense. A whole lot of sense. In fact, we think we're on
the verge of a breakthrough that could turn everything around for Tom. For both of you.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, but if Jim and Marilyn were behind it, and they thought it might bring about some kind of breakthrough with Tom, she was definitely interested. “Could you explain a little about what ‘this' is?”

“I could. But if you're open to it, Marilyn said she would like to share it with you.”

Jean nodded her head. “I'd be happy to get with Marilyn. I've wanted to talk to her for months, ever since she and Jim got back together. But Tom would never allow it. He'd never let me talk about our problems with anyone.”

“Well, I think you'll find Tom is in a whole new place about that. God's done a major work in his heart since the two of you last spoke. Tom's not gonna mind you talking with his mom about this. I guarantee it. In fact, he doesn't know it yet, but he and his father are about to have a conversation real soon that will change their relationship forever.”

Could that be true? Tom . . . in a whole new place? And getting help from his dad? Marilyn was going to be helping her? She'd wanted them to get help for so long. She reached for the box of tissues as the tears flowed freely again.

Uncle Henry reached his hand across the table and gently patted her forearm. “It's okay, Jean. You've been suffering with this awhile. But I think God's about to mend something that's been broken in this family for a very long time.”

 44 

T
om walked out to his car in the parking lot of the Java Stop, just after locking up for the night. It'd been a long day but a fairly busy one, which had kept his mind off most of his troubles. Uncle Henry had sent him a text that afternoon, which he hadn't read yet. Now seemed like a good time. He was pretty sure he knew the topic.

After getting in the car, he opened his phone and read:
Tom, looks like you're staying the night at our place again. But made real progress. I'll tell you more when you get home.

Tom wasn't surprised that Jean wasn't ready for him to come home just yet. She hadn't responded to any of his texts today. He wondered what Uncle Henry meant by “real progress,” hoped it was at least close to his own idea. He thought about calling him but decided to wait until he got back to New Smyrna Beach. Uncle Henry didn't like people driving while talking on their phones.

Tom pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, and the house was dark except for a lamp in the living room. When he opened the front door, Tom found Uncle Henry reading a book in his favorite chair. “You're home, Tom. Come in. Aunt Myra couldn't hold out anymore.”

Tom looked at his watch. It was only 10:30. He remembered they usually headed to bed before 10:00. “Thanks for waiting up for me,” he said. “I would have hated to be kept in suspense till morning. You mentioned in your text you made some progress.”

“I did. But come on in and have a seat. You can sit in Aunt Myra's chair there. Unless you'd like to get some kind of snack first.”

“That's okay. We have all kinds of snacks there at the end when we close. Have to throw most of them out, since the owner wants things fresh every day.” Tom set some things down on the coffee table and took a seat.

“Seems a shame to throw good food out. Can't he donate it somewhere?”

“Oh he does. Gotta whole bunch of charities that are supposed to come in on a schedule to haul it away. But sometimes they don't show up before we have to go. So I'm donating some to you guys. This white box here? Might want to check it out for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Tom, that was thoughtful. Well, what do you want to hear first? My talk with your mom and dad, or with Jean?”

Tom dreaded hearing about the talk with his folks. “You've been busy. Let's start with Jean. How did that go?”

Uncle Henry closed his book, set it on the end table. “Pretty good, I'd say.”

“Did you convince her there's nobody else?”

“Pretty sure I did. But you were right, she found it hard to believe this whole charade was just about losing your job. It gave me an opportunity, though, to set up a conversation between her and your mom.”

“My mom? I don't follow you.”

“Yeah, I guess that has to do with my other big piece of news. My talk with your folks. Met with them before I talked with
Jean. That talk went very well. Very well indeed. This might make more sense if I told you about that one first.”

“Guess you better start there, then,” Tom said.

Tom found himself bracing the armrests for the next fifteen minutes as Uncle Henry walked him through that conversation. The more Uncle Henry talked, the more Tom relaxed. He didn't know why he was so tense, or what he expected or feared, but by the end of Uncle Henry's briefing, Tom felt mostly hopeful inside. His dad seemed to take the news pretty well, much better than he had anticipated.

Of course, it wasn't as if Uncle Henry had shared all the gritty details of Tom's situation. He had probably just summarized things in general terms, maybe even glossed over a few things that would shock his father. Tom wasn't in the clear yet. He was sure when he and his father talked, he'd be asking Tom for a whole lot more details, to make sure he was getting the bottom line.

That thought caused Tom to grip the armrests again.

“So you see,” Uncle Henry said, “your father is in a totally different place about all this. I think you need to open your heart to the possibility that God wants you both to start writing a new chapter in your relationship.”

“I hope so, Uncle Henry. I really do.” Tom couldn't quite make that leap yet, though. “So how does my mom factor into this? You said she's going to be talking with Jean.”

“That's right,” he said. “She wants to help Jean see the way your dad raised you guys and how it stacked the deck against you, made you feel like you could never quite measure up to his expectations. And how that played into your motivation to keep this whole thing hidden until you could present your situation out in the open, all fixed up.”

Tom liked the sound of that and hoped hearing it would do Jean some good. It also reminded him of another thing he needed to apologize to her for: being so secretive all the time
about their problems and forbidding her from opening up when she felt like they needed help. “So, when are these conversations supposed to take place? Do you know?”

“I'm gonna let your dad handle all that,” he said. “But I'm sure it will be soon.” He sat up in his chair and picked up his book. It appeared he'd said all he had planned to say. “You have any more questions you want to ask tonight?”

“I do, but they can keep. Besides, I'm exhausted. Thanks, Uncle Henry, for doing all that. It sounds pretty encouraging compared to where things were.”

Uncle Henry stood. “Glad to do it, Tom. I better turn in then, so I'll be ready for church in the morning. You're welcome to attend with us if you'd like.”

“I might just do that,” Tom said. “I think Jean and I need to be going somewhere else anyway. Someplace where we can make a fresh start.”