Contingency covenant of.., p.11
Contingency (Covenant of Trust), page 11
“I’m okay. We stayed busy today. That helped.”
“You still sleeping on the sofa?”
“Rita, don’t start.” Bobbi sighed, then curiosity took over. “How was the speech last night?”
“Simple,” Rita answered, slicing a tomato. “He didn’t give any details, was very, um, what’s the word? Contrite.”
“You didn’t believe him.”
“Why would you say that?” Rita never looked up, but slid the knife through the next tomato, clicking it against the cutting board at the end of each stroke.
“I can tell from the way you cut the tomato.”
“Let me put it this way.” She laid the knife down. “I think he believed what he said. I believe he’s sorry. He may even be sorry he hurt you, but he’s not going to change, and I don’t see how he can make this up to you.”
“He agreed to do everything I asked him to when we talked Saturday afternoon.”
“And what did you ask him to do?”
“To counsel with Phil, to see a doctor, and to move out.”
“Do you think that’s wise? He can see her whenever he wants now.”
“He doesn’t want to be with her.”
“He says.”
“Living with me wasn’t stopping him.”
“Do you think Phil will be tough enough?”
“Tough? I want Biblical, wise advice. If I wanted tough, I’d call a divorce attorney.”
“You might hold on to that idea.” She dumped the sliced tomato into the salad bowl. “So is Phil smart enough for Chuck? None of the rest of us ever have been, so I wonder how Phil is suddenly qualified.”
“Just say it, Rita. You hate Chuck, and you think I made a mistake when I married him.”
“I don’t hate him.” She rinsed a bell pepper and began slicing it.
Bobbi decided there would never be a good time to tell her sister. “I’m going to ask Chuck to come for dinner tomorrow night.”
“What?” Rita dropped her knife. “Just like that?”
“Joel and I had a talk at lunch. He needs his dad around. It’s just dinner, two or three hours.”
“So how long before you take him back like nothing ever happened?” It was a rebuke, not a question.
“I was the one hurt. Chuck cheated on me. Isn’t it my decision when and how to forgive?”
“Has he asked you for forgiveness?” Bobbi dropped her eyes. “He hasn’t, has he?” Rita tapped the knife on the counter. “Bobbi, you make it easy for him to come back and the next affair is guaranteed.”
“You’re wrong. I know Chuck.”
“You think you know him, but frankly, you’re a little blinded right now. You’re hurting and you’ll do whatever you need to do to ease that hurt regardless of the long-term consequences.” Before Bobbi could respond, the back door swung open.
“Who’s the old man now?” Gavin announced, his arms raised high. Danny and Brad came in behind him, shaking their heads, with Joel following, a broad grin on his face. “Ask these boys what the final score was!”
“Danny, thank you for letting your dad win,” Rita said, with a teasing glance at Gavin. “Wash up, guys.”
Gavin gave Bobbi a hug as he walked by. “It’s good to see you.”
“Thanks.” With the guys out of earshot, Bobbi turned back to Rita. “I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I have to do this my way.”
“What is your way, Bobbi? Letting Chuck take advantage of you? Make a fool out of you?”
“Rita ...”
“No! He doesn’t deserve that opportunity. I won’t let you do this.”
“I don’t recall asking you for permission,” Bobbi said.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Rita backtracked, but it was too late. Gavin and the boys returned, cutting the conversation off. Throughout the meal, Bobbi refused to make eye contact with Rita. After dinner, she kept Joel and Brad close as they gathered their things to leave, denying Rita any opportunity to apologize or explain further.
Rita was wrong. She had to be. Chuck would never cheat on her again. I never dreamed he would cheat in the first place. Now, in his apartment, it would be much easier for him to get away with it. Stop! Don’t even go there. For now, she believed Chuck, whether he deserved it or not.
*******
Chuck stretched and flipped the sheet on his legal pad, ready for the second half of Matthew. His cell phone chirped, showing a call from his home. He dived to answer it. “Hello?”
“Are you alone?” It was Bobbi.
“Of course.” How could she think …?
“Sorry, it’s just, Rita ... Never mind. Forget I said anything.” He loved her soft, gentle voice. “Listen, the reason I called ... ummm ... Why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow evening?”
“Are you serious?”
“Joel misses you.”
“What about you?”
“It was my idea.”
“Will Brad be there tomorrow night?”
“He will. I wouldn’t expect much more than that out of him, though.”
“There is nothing in the world I would rather do than join you for dinner tomorrow evening.”
“Say six o’clock?”
“I can’t wait.” He heard her take a deep breath. She had more to say.
“I’m sorry I walked out of church last night.”
“Don’t apologize, please. I understand.” Realizing how much he missed her, he wanted to keep her on the line. “Thank you … for dinner. I know you’re taking a risk.”
“I thought about that, but I think it’s worth it.” Chuck felt a lump in his throat. “Um, I guess that’s all I needed to talk to you about.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Goodnight,” Bobbi whispered and hung up.
What on earth had changed? Saturday, Bobbi couldn’t speak to him without clenching her jaw, and last night she couldn’t stand to be in the church service with him. Tonight, she asked him to dinner. It couldn’t be over already, could it?
*******
Bobbi stood in her closet, pulling out blouses and holding them up against her, checking herself in the full length mirror. Ordinarily content to let her birthday pass without fanfare, she decided turning thirty-nine was a bigger reason not to draw attention to it, but Chuck wanted to take her out. After the long hours he’d been putting in, she had him all to herself. Brad and Joel were sleeping over at Rita’s house, so there wouldn’t be any excuses tonight.
She heard the front door open and she glanced at the clock. “Good grief, he’s on time.”
“Anybody home?”
She heard him coming up the stairs. “In here.”
He smiled when he saw her, then crossed the room to the walk-in closet. He kissed her and then straightened the strap on her camisole. “I love what you’re wearing.”
“Not quite appropriate.”
“Depends on what you’re talking about.” He pulled his tie loose and dropped onto the bed. “Do you care if I don’t wear a tie?”
“I’m not wearing one.” She settled on a burgundy sweater and gray slacks. It had been an unseasonably warm day for early March, but the weatherman predicted a cold front would pass through later in the evening. “We have seven o’clock reservations at Santiago’s.”
“Bobbi, you made your own birthday reservations?” he whined.
“I was just trying take one little thing off your list.”
“I think I can handle dinner reservations. I set us up at The Stockyard at seven.”
“Fine. Last I heard we were going to Santiago’s.”
“Yeah, I know, but I ate there for lunch.”
“You went out to lunch?”
“So?”
“Nothing. I didn’t think you had time.” All she heard from him these days was a list of things he didn’t have time for.
“I still have to eat. We started going out on Fridays last month.” He pulled a sweater on over his dress shirt. “Do you care if we make a stop before we get to the restaurant? I’ll try to make it fast.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He grinned.
She stopped him before they headed downstairs. “Hey, I want you to know ...” She put a hand on his arm. “It means a lot to me that you got home on time to take me out to dinner.”
“I’m glad it made you happy.” He kissed her cheek and headed downstairs.
She glanced around the bedroom before turning out the light. She thought about suggesting that they take advantage of the empty house, but she was half dressed when Chuck got home. If he had wanted to make love, he would have started something then. No matter. They had the whole night, after all.
As they drove, Chuck tapped the steering wheel and sang to the radio, switching the station any time they played a song he didn’t know. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him in such a good mood. Then he pulled into a new car dealership, a luxury dealer who sold Jaguars, BMWs, Audis, and Acuras. He absolutely was not buying her a car for her birthday.
“Chuck?”
“I want to get your opinion on something.” He parked the car and hopped out. She had to take long strides to catch up to him. He stopped in front of a pair of convertible BMWs, a red one and a navy one. “What do you think?” He smiled and held his arms out in front of the cars.
“About what?”
“The car. Pretty sweet, isn’t it?” He peered in the window of the red one. “Just two seats.”
“Sounds a little impractical. There are four of us.”
“Well, we’re not all going to be riding in it.”
“We aren’t.”
“No, you always have the boys with you.”
“The car’s for you?”
“Yeah, what’d you think?” He turned and looked at her with patronizing amusement, the same look he got right before he patted one of the boys on the head when they were little.
“Uh ... I figured it was for you ... I was ... I was kidding with you.”
“So, you’re okay with me getting it?”
“Now? You just traded cars.”
“Over a year ago. Besides, we don’t need that monster.”
“At least you can drive that monster in snow.”
“BMWs are known for their handling.”
“But it’s a convertible. We do not live in convertible country.”
“The days we can put the top down will make it worthwhile, though.”
She walked around and checked the sticker in the window. “Chuck! We can’t afford this.”
“We just add a year to the loan for the Lincoln. Besides, I’m expecting a very good year.”
“We can’t spend money you haven’t earned.”
“Bobbi, you don’t have any faith in me.” He stood in front of the cars again. “I think the blue one.”
“You’re not listening. We cannot buy this car.”
“I appreciate your sense of fiscal responsibility, but we can afford the car.”
Knowing she had lost already, she still had to register her protests, just for the record. “What about the insurance?”
“Reasonable, especially for somebody my age.” He waved for a salesman. “Yep, this is definitely the one. A sporty convertible.”
“Chuck, is something else going on?”
“Of course not. I just have a huge client I’m trying to land, and you even said that my car was one the best ways to make an impression.”
“I said ...?” She shook her head and walked away while Chuck chattered with the salesman. She climbed back in the Navigator and watched the dashboard clock as seven o’clock came and went.
Chapter 9
Intransigence
Tuesday, August 2
Bobbi lay on the sofa, waiting for the alarm. Wide awake now, she slipped off to sleep soon after talking to Chuck last night. It reminded her of dating Chuck in college. He called every Monday and Thursday evening, always after eleven when the rates went down so they could talk longer. His voice sounded just like that Chuck, the Chuck who was crazy about her, the Chuck she fell in love with.
Rita didn’t believe that Chuck existed anymore. Bobbi hated fighting with her sister, but dinner was the right thing to do, not just for Joel. Brad needed to deal with his anger, and facing his dad would be the first step, although she’d need a minor miracle for Brad to see that.
She switched the alarm clock off before it had a chance to buzz and grabbed her clothes from the laundry basket. Whispering a blessing on the one who decided to put a shower in the downstairs bath, she got ready for the day. Twenty minutes later, she sat nursing her first cup of coffee when Brad came in the kitchen.
“Morning, Brad,” she said, teasing her night owl son. “Does the coach understand how much you love football? That you wake up early for it?”
Brad grunted and shook his head, then opened the refrigerator. He pulled the orange juice out, and gathered four granola bars.
“Breakfast of champions?”
“I’m not real hungry, but I figure it’s this, or throw up or something at practice. It’s just conditioning this week. I’ll be fine.” Then he grinned. “Next week, however, I’ll be needing a full, home-cooked breakfast. You know eggs, pancakes, the works.”
“Will I get to meet the cook you’ve hired for this before next week?” Brad rolled his eyes at her. “Get your stuff, then come and sit down. I need to talk to you.”
“You know, the last time you needed to talk to me, it was really bad.” He slouched in the corner chair.
“Brad, I invited your dad for dinner this evening.”
“What?” He snapped up in his seat. “Did he talk you into this? Or was it Pastor Phil’s idea?”
“It was my idea. You can’t hide from him the rest of your life.”
“It’s not hiding. It’s refusing to associate with him.”
Bobbi leaned across the table. “I am not divorcing your father, so you and I need to figure out a way to deal with what he’s done.”
“You can’t let him get away with this! He can’t waltz back in here like nothing happened. I won’t let him.”
“Wait just a minute. I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you. Your father will be here for dinner. You will eat dinner with the rest of the family, and you will be civil. I don’t expect you to pretend nothing happened, but you will be respectful. Is that understood?” Brad didn’t respond. “I said, is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brad forced the words out between his teeth. He ate his breakfast, and passed the ride to football practice in silence.
“I’ll see you at twelve-thirty,” Bobbi said as she let him out of the car. Brad gave her a half nod and slammed the car door. She watched him trudge the long sidewalk to the practice field and wished she could explain to him that she agreed with most of what he said. She heard herself in every one of his outbursts, and twenty-five years ago, she would have said the very same things.
*******
Bobbi straightened the knives, forks, and spoons at each place setting on the dining room table. Breathe. It’s just Chuck. She hadn’t been this nervous about a meal since the day Chuck took her home to meet his parents. Would he try to make his case tonight? Would he press Brad, or use Joel as leverage against her? Was she playing into Chuck’s hands by inviting him in the first place?
She called Donna Shannon after dropping Brad at football practice, desperate for reassurance. “Dinner is a beautiful step,” Donna said. “A wonderful idea.” Someone finally agreed with her.
Joel bounded into the dining room. “He’s here!”
“Let him in. I’ll get Brad.” Bobbi made it halfway up the stairs before the doorbell rang. I’ve got to tell him to stop doing that.
She knocked on Brad’s door. “It’s dinner time. Wash up.” He didn’t answer, but she heard movement, so she headed back downstairs.
Chuck stood in the entry hall and as soon as their eyes met, her reflexes took over, and she moved to kiss him. She’d already leaned in a little too close before she caught herself. “Things ... are nearly ready.” She stumbled backward, then took Joel by the shoulders, and steered him between them. “Go wash up.”
“Why are we eating in the dining room?” Joel grumbled. “It’s not even a holiday.”
“Just go.” Because the kitchen is too intimate. I want some formality between us.
Chuck followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the sink. “Everything smells great,” he said.
“Thanks.” Things felt oddly out of balance with Chuck there for dinner on a weeknight, dressed in jeans and sneakers. It had been months since the four of them sat down for dinner. Since before ServMed.
Bobbi filled the plates and set them on the table, and Chuck and Joel took their seats. “Brad?” She called, then shook her head as he slipped into his chair. He’d been watching, waiting for the last possible moment. “Joel, why don’t you say grace?”
“Dear God, thank You for this food, for Mom fixing it, and for Dad being here with us. Let him be back with us all the time real soon. Amen.”
Brad kicked him under the table, but Joel took it without a word. Bobbi glared at Brad and he dropped his head and began to eat.
Flatware scraped across dishes and glasses clinked, but no one dared speak. After several uneasy minutes, Chuck laid his fork down and looked into Bobbi’s eyes. “How are preparations for school going?”
Bobbi sighed with relief. “Good. There’s plenty to do, but I think I have a good class. I have twenty-five kids, and I know most of them from either working with them or testing them.” Talk of lesson plans and orientation materials filled the dinner hour. Chuck attempted to engage Brad, but the teenager only spit out one-word replies.
