The Scarlet Thread (39 page)

counter. Nauseated, she thought about going back to bed and

pulling the covers up over her head. But what good would that

do?

Three years I’ve watched you wallow in self-pity and keep up your

temper tantrum. It’s been something to watch, Sierra. A real show!

Shuddering, she turned her thoughts to Dennis and Noreen

and a dozen others who welcomed her and the children every

Sunday. She had a choice. She could stay home and do exactly

what Audra and Alex would expect her to do, or she could finish

getting ready and go to church. She could learn something and,

with God’s help, start putting her own life back in order.

The house sold the first week. Full price.

When escrow closed thirty days later, the check Sierra received

looked like an obscene amount of money. It dwindled fast when

she sent half of it to Alex, made a 20 percent down payment on a

modest three-bedroom condominium in Northridge, and paid

her capital gains taxes out of what remained. If it weren’t for her

inheritance, she wouldn’t have qualified for a loan in the first

place. As it was, most of her assets were tied up in the Mathesen

Street house in Healdsburg.

The telephone rang while Sierra was in the kitchen packing

boxes. She avoided answering the telephone whenever possible.

Alex had called several times during the past month. Luckily,

Carolyn always flew to the phone when it rang, hoping it was her

father. Clanton never picked it up, for the same reason. Carolyn

spent two Saturdays a month with Alex, but she never said much

about their day together. And Sierra didn’t ask any questions.

“It’s Daddy,” Carolyn said now, holding the portable phone

out to her. “He wants to talk to you.” The hope in her eyes made

Sierra want to weep.

“Thanks, honey.” She took the phone, knowing exactly why

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riot act over putting the house up for sale in the first place, and

this conversation was destined to be no more pleasant.

“Why’d you send this check to me?” Alex said hotly.

Her heart gave a flip at the sound of his voice. “It’s your half of

the proceeds from the house.”

“I signed the house over to you. Remember?” He sounded

bitter about it.

“I remember, but I didn’t feel right about keeping all the

money.”

“That’s a big surprise. It never bothered you to keep my

money before. Why change now? And while we’re on the

subject, why’d you send my check back last week?”

“Because you said you’d never send me another dime, and I

thought I’d hold you to your word.”

He spat a short, foul expletive. “So what are you going to do,

Sierra? Make the kids eat at the local mission?”

“I have a job.”

“Yeah, right. Working for Ron Peirozo at Los Angeles Outreach. I don’t imagine it pays much.”

“I don’t work there anymore.”

“Got fired, huh? Well, six months is something, I guess. That’s

longer than any other job you’ve held in your life.”

Pushed to the limit by his scathing sarcasm and condescension, she almost blurted out the truth.
I left because Ron is in love

with me and wants me to forget about you, to leave you in the dust like

you’ve left me!
He
wants to be with me!
He
wants to marry me, Alex.

He’s a millionaire and he wants me! I left because it was the right thing to

do, not that you care!

But she didn’t. He wouldn’t believe her anyway. As much as

he hated her, he’d find it impossible to think any other man

would find her attractive or intriguing. And she wasn’t about to

humiliate herself by trying to convince him.

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What does the Lord require of you?

She could hear the verse as clearly now as she’d heard it on

Sunday, when the pastor had read it—and it brought her

thoughts to an abrupt halt. What did the Lord require? Justice,

kindness, humility . . . yet here she was, wandering down the

familiar path of bitterness and self-pity again.

She drew a steadying breath.
Lord, I hurt him. I know I did. Please

forgive me. I can’t tell him I’m sorry right now because he won’t listen, but

you know how I feel. You know what I did to start this war. I don’t want to

be part of it anymore.

“So, what are you going to do?” Alex demanded when she

made no response to his last insult.

“I’m going to be a secretary in an insurance agency.”

“You’ll last two weeks, tops.”

“Is that an estimation of my abilities or of how boring the industry is?” she said, trying to instill some lightness into her tone.

“Take a wild guess.”

His meaning couldn’t be more clear.

“I’ll send you another check, Sierra. You’d better hang onto

this one. You’ll need it.”

Hot, bitter anger swept over her, surpassing hurt and obliterating wisdom. “I have a better idea, Alex. Don’t send the check.

Eat it!”
The words were out before she even knew they were

coming. They passed her lips, flying up from her heart and roosting like vultures in the charged air, pecking at her head. She

slammed the phone down, more angry with her own lack of

control than with Alex’s contemptuous laugh.

When a check did arrive in the mail two days later, it came in

an envelope with an embossed return address that read Madrid/

Longford. She tore up the envelope and check and flushed both

down the toilet. She’d stand out on a street corner holding a sign

that said Homeless and Hungry before she’d take another nickel

from Alejandro Luís Madrid.

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the last Bible study? Those who won’t work, won’t eat. Well,

she’d work
and
eat. And so would her children. Whatever money

Alex sent for the children would go in their college funds.

Dennis and several other men from the church helped her

move into the condominium. The complex was within walking

distance of the church, and Dennis invited Clanton to play baseball when they finished unloading the pickup trucks. “We’ve got

a team, but we’re short some outfielders. Do you think you could

help us out?”

“Sure. Easy!” Clanton looked more eager than Sierra had seen

him in a long time.

“As soon as we get all this stuff lugged inside, we’ll head on

down to the field. Can he stay out until nine, Mom?” Dennis

said, winking at her over one end of a couch he was carrying.

“I’ll have to fix him some dinner first.”

“We can get McDonald’s.”

“Great!” Clanton said, before she could respond. He dumped

the box he was carrying onto the top of a coffee table and ran

back for another.

“Mom!”
Carolyn said, running up, her face flushed with excitement. “Susan lives here. Susan from church! She lives in the

condo just down from us. See! Right over there. Can you believe

it? Can I go play with her?
Please.”

Susan’s mother, Frances, came over an hour later. Clanton

and the men had gone, leaving Sierra surrounded by boxes.

Frances surveyed the chaos. “Why don’t you join us for dinner?”

Removing the newspaper wrapping, Sierra set another plate

into the built-in dishwasher. She brushed damp tendrils back

from her face and glanced around at the unpacked boxes, Mary

Kathryn’s trunk, the furniture dumped anywhere and nowhere

in particular. It would take her all night to get half the unpacking

done.

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“Believe me,” Frances laughed. “It’ll still be here when you

come back. Susan and I can help.”

By the time Sierra had finished her spaghetti, Frances had talked

her into joining the choir. “It only makes sense,” Frances said.

“We meet on the same night as the youth group. We can walk

down with the children, stay for practice, and walk back with

them at nine.”

“What if I can’t carry a tune?” Sierra laughed.

“Then you’ll just have to make a joyful noise!”

The telephone was ringing when she unlocked the front door

and switched on the lights later that evening. Carolyn ran to the

kitchen and answered it. Sierra could tell by the look on her

daughter’s face that it was Alex. She watched Carolyn hop up on

a stool as she began telling her father everything that had happened that day. She sounded so happy and excited.

“Oh, and Mom’s joined the choir. She’s going to be practicing

the same night Susan and I go to youth group. Susan? She’s a

friend from the church. She lives in a condo right down the path

from us.” She listened for a moment, her excitement dimming

slightly. “He’s not here, Daddy. He’s playing baseball with Mr.

O’Malley. Dennis is so neat! He leads the youth group, and he’s

a highway patrolman. He met Mom when he pulled her over on

the freeway for speeding. You should see his baby. Sean is so

cute, and Noreen lets me hold him in church.”

Sierra went into Carolyn’s bedroom. So much for keeping a

few secrets, she thought, taking the sheets from a box. She made

up Carolyn’s bed, and then went into Clanton’s room and made

up his bed. Carolyn was still talking when Sierra went into her

own bedroom and began making up her own bed, the one she’d

slept in all through her growing-up years in Healdsburg. She

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against the bedpost, she looked around the room.

She’d had to get rid of the king-size bed she’d shared with

Alex. After measuring the master bedroom, she’d realized it

would fit but leave little room for anything else. Giving it up had

been difficult. She’d mentioned it to Melissa during their last

telephone conversation, and two days later her brother had

called and said he was shipping her canopy bed from home.

She touched the lace covering that her mother had crocheted

for her; it had taken her a year to complete it. Sierra remembered

the joy she’d felt when she opened the big box on Christmas

morning and found the lace folded in among sheets of lavender

tissue paper. She’d been sixteen and madly in love with Alex.

Her eyes welled with tears. How many nights had she lain in

this bed dreaming of what it would be like to be married to

Alejandro Luís Madrid? He had been her Prince Charming. Ten

years she’d known what it was like to be loved and fulfilled by a

man of passion. Ten years of heaven, followed by three years of

descending into hell.

God forgive her, she’d been the one to take the first step down.

The front doorbell rang. “Mom! Can you get it?” Carolyn

called, unwilling to relinquish the phone.

When she opened the door, Sierra found Clanton covered

with grass stains and dirt from head to foot and grinning from

ear to ear. “I hit a home run, Mom! Man, you should’ve seen that

ball fly!”

Dennis was behind him, looking pleased. “It wouldn’t have

been a home run if I hadn’t tripped over my feet,” he said in mock

annoyance, “and you hadn’t run like a rabbit.”

“We’re playing against the Baptist church on Saturday,”

Clanton said, entering the living room and tossing his dirty glove

onto a pile of clean clothes that had yet to be put away. “I’m playing shortstop.”

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