The morning Judd was released to come home from the hospital, Bess grudgingly agreed with the rest that it would be best if Agnes alone went to pick him up, especially since Daniel was being particularly fussy, as if he sensed Bess’ nervous energy. She spent the time Agnes was off fetching Judd changing the sheets on their bed, fluffing the pillows to make them as comfortable as possible, and dusting and vacuuming the house so that Judd would be recuperating in a spotless environment.
She shouldn’t have been surprised when the car she heard in the drive turned out to be not Agnes and Judd, but Lillian, wrapped up in a linen coat with a faux-fur collar. Bess tried and failed to hide her shock and disappointment at finding the woman on her doorstep, but she managed to open the door against the winter’s chill to invite Lillian in, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m the only one here at the moment,” Bess said, standing close to the front door, not wanting to give Lillian any ideas about staying.
That’s when she noticed the difference in the other woman. Instead of her usual, ruby-red lipstick and fancy coiffure, Lillian barely wore any makeup, and her considerable hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Under the fancy coat, she was wearing a cotton, plaid button-up shirt and loose jeans. Even the shoes she was wearing, boots with square toes, were scuffed and in need of a polish.
Lillian swallowed at least three times before she could make her mouth work. “I’m glad you’re home. I mean, I came to talk to you. May I?” She motioned to the sofa, as if she were afraid her legs weren’t capable of holding her up any more.
Bess, curious now, motioned for Lillian to sit, taking her own seat in the club chair next to the sofa. “Is something wrong, Lillian?” she heard herself asking, while the other half of her was trying to figure out what kind of angle Lillian might be playing now.
But Lillian’s contrite expression really didn’t hint at any subterfuge. Bess doubted she was that good an actress. Lillian crossed and uncrossed her legs on the sofa, clasping her hands in her lap until the knuckles were white.
“I owe you an apology,” she said, and once the words started, they flowed out in a great rush. “Probably more than one apology, actually. I shouldn’t have gossiped about you to your husband and half the congregation, and I shouldn’t have thrown myself at Judd once the two of you were married. I had a long talk with Pastor Michael, who apparently had a long talk with your husband. Well, the upshot of it is that I promise not to interfere in your marriage anymore, or talk about you behind your back. In fact, I’m hoping that someday we can be friends.”
Lillian finished this monologue on a gush of breath and sank back against the cushions as if all her strength had been zapped from her body. Bess knew she was gaping. She could feel her chin scraping her neck from her jaw being opened. “I’ve never had anybody apologize to me before,” she finally managed, “not like that anyway. No offense, Lillian, but what’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch,” she responded, with just a hint of her usual hauteur, but then her features relaxed again. “Look, Bess, I’m a Christian, even though I haven’t been acting much like one lately. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, especially since I haven’t done anything yet to prove to you I mean what I say, but I’m hoping you’ll forgive me eventually.”
“Agnes says that we forgive others because God was willing to forgive us of all our sins. I’ve got as many sins on my plate as the next person, Lillian, maybe more, and I want to be accepted for who I am, not what I’ve been. If you really want to start over, you and me, I’m willing to do that.”
“Thank you, Bess.” Lillian stood up, wiping her hands on her jean-clad thighs as if she’d been sweating. “I’ll go now. I know you probably have a lot going on. If you need anything, you just let me know, OK?”
She walked to the door, and Bess stood up to follow her, feeling a little dizzy, like she was in an alternate universe. She said good-bye to Lillian and watched her car disappear down the long drive before turning back into the house. And all the while, she was trying to absorb how powerful believing in Christ must be if it could make a person like Lillian apologize to a stranger like Bess.
Another car pulled into the drive all too soon, with two car doors opening and closing this time. Bess hurried out to slip under Judd’s arm, lending him support. He stopped her as Agnes continued on into the house with the medicines and things from the hospital in her hands.
She looked up at him with a question in her eyes. “Look tired,” he said, his breathing still a bit painful as his lungs and ribs healed.
“Well, aren’t we a pair, then?” She moved the few inches left between them and kissed him, overcome that he was alive and back home again.
They made slow progress into the house, but when she would have guided him to the bedroom, he motioned to the sofa instead, telling her he wanted to sit up for a while. He eased down on the cushions under his own power after shooting Bess a look that promised such retribution if she attempted to lower him down herself.
The crunch the sofa made under his considerable weight was the first time Bess actually remembered that the growing pile of unopened envelopes were actually hidden there. Before she could divert him, Judd had fished underneath the cushion and extracted the pile with one, large hand. He didn’t stop to ask what they were or whom they were for, just tore into the one on top, glanced at the contents, then threw the entire pile onto the coffee table in front of him.
Jamming his fingers through his hair, he kept his eyes on the piece of paper in front of him, a vulgar description of Bess’ tempting beauty covering a wealth of sin, spelled out in clippings like the first note Bess had seen. She sank to the nearest chair and clasped her hands between her knees. Why hadn’t she burned those letters?
“Did you mean to keep this from me?” Judd’s voice, instead of its usual bark, held an almost wounded quality that haunted her more than the threatening notes did.
“More like I was keeping them from myself,” she stammered. “I didn’t even know he was alive until just a few weeks ago. When I saw that article,” her voice trailed off, and she took a shuddering breath before continuing. “It’s why I was so determined to leave. I should leave, to protect you all.”
Judd blinked twice and winced, laying a steadying hand against his injured ribs. His face paled, and a bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. Even though she had never felt more isolated from him than in that moment, her body moved without her brain’s consent. She sat beside him on the sofa and felt under his chin for fever with one hand, using the other to make comforting, tiny circle along his back.
“Forget about this for now,” she coaxed, moving her hand from his chin to rest on his broad chest, which was moving raggedly. “I didn’t mean it, about leaving. I promise to tell you everything I know, and then I’ll do whatever we decide together,” she promised, and was gratified to feel his heartbeat slow considerably. “For now, your rest is the most important thing.”
He meant to argue. She could see it in the set of his jaw. His words confirmed her fear. “What’s his name?”
“Please,” she begged, “can’t it just wait?”
He took her hand away from his chest and squeezed it. “The name, Bess,” he said with a voice that seemed to contain the last bits of his energy.
She bit her lip. He was going to want to know the whole story, and she couldn’t bear to tell it to him in the best of circumstances, certainly not now when he was still so hurt and in need of healing. The black glare hardened as he kept that steel grip on her fingers. “James Ruben,” she muttered before she lost what little nerve was left in her body.
He surprised her by merely nodding once, a quick jerk of his head. He released her hand and grabbed her cheek with his palm, pulling her ear to his lips. “Keep the doors locked and only go outside with Mama and the gun,” he ordered, sealing the decree with a pressing of his warm mouth to the skin just under her earlobe.
She shivered from the sensation of his warm breath on her skin and the cold reality of the words. He demanded to use the phone then, but she would only agree to help him to it if he promised to make only one call and then go straight to bed. Agnes arrived just as a settlement was reached, and the trio managed to get Judd to the hall for his phone call and then into the bed. He sent Bess to the kitchen for his lunch tray and had private words with his mother, probably about the deputy that arrived some minutes later, taking the envelopes from Agnes with a grim set to his square features.
Agnes said goodbye to the officer and turned back into the house, her face determined. “I don’t know about you, Bess, but I’m starving.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but walked with a steady step to the kitchen. Bess followed, feeling somewhat like a dog with a tail between its legs. She really didn’t want to eat, but she knew she owed it to Daniel to stay healthy so that his food would be nourishing.
Agnes laid ham sandwiches on the table with glasses of milk. The first bite tasted like sawdust to Bess, but she forced herself to chew.
“This isn’t your fault, Bess,” Agnes said a moment later, her eyes probing Bess as if she were looking right through her.
“You don’t know the whole story,” Bess whispered through the tight throat that was fighting back tears. “And if I tell you, I’m afraid none of you will want me around here anymore.”
Agnes got out of her chair and pulled Bess up into a bear hug that made it difficult for Bess to breathe. “You’ve said it yourself, Bess,” she said in a raspy voice, “who you are now is what counts.” She released Bess and stepped back, her eyes softening. “Darling, when he’s had his rest, you’re going to have to tell Judd the whole story. He needs to know it to protect you, and since he’d die to protect you, it’s best he has all the facts. Don’t you agree?”
She agreed all right. But that didn’t mean the knowing wasn’t turning her heart inside out, filling her chest with icy fingers that made her whole body cold.
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