Contingency: Covenant of Trust Book One

  “My dad is dead,” he said, taking her hands again. “You are my life. You are worth more to me than my job, more than everything else I have. I have to protect you first.”

  “I don’t . . . I don’t think I can deal with this right now.” Bobbi pulled her hands away and pushed the envelope to the side.

  “Of course. There’s no rush.”

  “Do you have another job lined up?”

  “Not yet. I figured we’d pay off the house from the extra in the withdrawal, then we could afford to live on your salary until I found something. That’s assuming I can sell my car at a decent price.”

  “Chuck . . .?”

  “God will work it out.” He pulled her empty plate closer and stacked the plastic containers on it, but before he could get them to the sink, the phone rang. He snatched it off the cradle. “Hello? . . . She’s fine. Hold on just a moment.” Chuck held the phone against his shoulder. “It’s Donna. Do you want to talk to her?”

  She held out a hand for the phone. “Donna, it’s Thanksgiving. You should be spending time with your grandkids.”

  “Oh, I am, don’t worry. I’m glad Chuck is there with you. Are you okay, really?”

  “I think I’ve turned a corner, yes. I’m sorry they dragged you into this. Which one of them called you?”

  “I’ll never tell.” Donna’s smile came through in her voice. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted you to know we love you, and we pray for you, and Chuck, and the boys every day.”

  “That means a lot. I, uh, I think I’ll take your advice about seeing a doctor. Who would you recommend?” Bobbi watched Chuck’s face fall as she asked.

  “My doctor, Neil Craig. He’s excellent—a good, Christian man. He teaches and writes these days, so he only works off referrals. If you don’t mind me telling Phil, he can give the referral, and then the doctor’s office will call you to set things up.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Honey. You let Chuck take care of you, now.”

  “I will.” Before Chuck could make any comments about the doctor, she explained. “Donna stopped by Monday and recommended I see a doctor. Phil is going to give me a referral.”

  “What kind of doctor?”

  “I don’t know. Neil Craig is his name.”

  Chuck frowned and picked up the phone book. “Oh, Bobbi.” He looked up from the listing in the yellow pages. “He’s a psychiatrist.”

  “I probably need one.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “Chuck, I can’t think straight. I can’t remember what I teach from one day to the next. I’ve become a liar to cover everything up, to hide it from Brad and Joel. I don’t eat. I don’t sleep. I’m just . . . numb.”

  “Let me run a hot bath for you.”

  “What?”

  “A bath. You know, hot water?” He disappeared up the back stairs, but came back a few minutes later, carrying a towel, the cordless phone, and Bobbi’s bathrobe. He handed her the phone. “I’m going to put your towel and robe in the dryer, and you just push the ‘intercom’ button on the phone when you’re ready for them.”

  “All right, that does it,” Bobbi said, smacking her hand on the kitchen table. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “You want me to go?”

  “No, but this is very weird, Chuck. I don’t understand why you’re treating me this way. Am I that messed up?”

  “Of course not. I didn’t mean to smother you.”

  “It’s not . . . it’s just . . . it’s too new. You’re going to have to take things a lot slower.”

  “Slower?”

  “You can’t be this nice to me all of the sudden and not expect me to be a little freaked out.”

  “If I promise to tone it down, will you still take the bath?”

  “Always a negotiation with you,” she muttered heading up the stairs.

  Friday, November 25

  Chuck woke to the sound of Bobbi’s even breathing and for a split second, forgot that he fell asleep in the armchair, watching her rather than beside her. He rolled his shoulders and neck to loosen the stiff muscles, then slipped into the kitchen to start the coffee.

  He ran his tongue across his teeth and decided he needed something stronger than coffee to get rid of the taste of last night’s dinner. He rummaged through the cabinet in the downstairs bathroom hoping to find an extra toothbrush, but settled for a bottle of mouthwash.

  When he returned to the kitchen, the coffeemaker had finished, so he poured a cup, and slipped into one of the breakfast nook chairs. The last time he enjoyed a cup of coffee in his own kitchen was that Monday morning in July, the morning he left for Kansas City, the Monday before Bobbi found out the truth about his affair.

  “I’m going to have a cup of coffee and enjoy the peace while the boys are still asleep,” she had said. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  He looked at her, at the door, checked his watch, then frowned and set his bags down. A cup of coffee would take less time than arguing with her.

  “This is just normal coffee, right? Not that weird gourmet stuff?”

  “It’s grocery store coffee, out of a can and everything.” She poured two cups and carried them over to sit with him in the breakfast nook. “So why are you flying to Kansas City anyway? You’ve driven all the other times.”

  “Two reasons. We want the union to think we’re sparing no expenses, that we’re serious about negotiations.”

  “That’s why you’re wearing the serious black suit, right?”

  “No, it was just the next one in the closet.”

  “Of course it was.”

  “Second,” he admitted with a smile, “we’re not paying for it. The client is, so why not?”

  “It just seems wasteful, almost dishonest to me.”

  “It’s just how things are done. It’s no big deal.”

  “So now you’re okay with skirting the edge of ethics to make a buck?”

  “This isn’t skirting anything. Is it unethical to dress up for a job interview? No! This is no different.”

  “So as long as things look good, they are good?”

  “What is with you?”

  “With me? I’m just trying to understand how these big million-dollar deals work.”

  “Well, you sound sarcastic.”

  “That wasn’t my intent.” Bobbi hid behind her coffee. He didn’t believe her at all. She accused him of arrogance all the time, but never saw it in herself. She had a sanctimonious moral superiority that dripped from every word. “Oh, before I forget, where should I take my car to have the brakes changed?”

  “What’s wrong with your brakes?”

  “Chuck . . .” She used that same tone of voice with Joel when he forgot to take out the trash. “I asked you to have them looked at before I left for Detroit.”

  She wasn’t going to hang this on him. Not this morning. “Are you sure you didn’t just think about asking me? I don’t remember you mentioning them.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Bobbi muttered. “We talked about it on the way to dinner for our anniversary.”

  “Can it wait until Friday when I get back?”

  “Not unless you want me to be in a horrible, fiery crash on the highway. I don’t feel safe driving on them.”

  “Why does everything have to be a big drama with you?”

  “Why does everything but ServMed irritate you?”

  “I’m not gonna get into this again.”

  “Good, because I don’t want to hear it again.”

  “Bobbi, you invited me to have a cup of coffee with you, and you’re using it as an opportunity to attack me.”

  “I am not attacking you. I just don’t need to hear how important ServMed is. I got it the first ninety-seven times.” She walked to the sink and rinsed her cup out and set it in the dish drainer. “You know, I wish you’d put as much energy into being a husband and a father as you do into being an ego-driven workaholic.”

  “And I wish y
ou’d treat me with the same consideration you show the little kids at school.”

  “When my kids are obnoxious and selfish, they get a timeout.”

  “Fine,” Chuck said, not bothering to hide his aggravation. “I will take a timeout in Kansas City for the week.” Chuck finished his coffee and looked at the wall clock. “We’ll take my car.” He saw Bobbi wince at the suggestion. “What?”

  “I hate your car, Chuck. It screams, ‘I’m a jerk with too much money!’”

  “You just said yours was unsafe to drive.” Chuck slammed the coffee cup on the counter. “It’s a great car. Besides, I am a jerk and before the week’s out, I’ll have too much money, so it’s a perfect fit.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “What? That people think I’m a jerk?”

  “That’s not what you said. You said you were a jerk. That’s different.”

  “You call me a jerk all the time. I’m used to it.” Chuck stalked back to the entry hall, pausing at the hall mirror and turning his head slightly, trying to see the back of his head.

  “It’s not noticeable,” Bobbi said.

  “That’s not what I was doing,” he lied.

  “Chuck, you check that thin spot every time you leave this house. Nobody can see it but you.”

  “Can we go? If I miss my plane because you had to start an argument with me—”

  “I . . . started an argument with you?” She picked up her purse and shook her head. “Then don’t bother to call when you get there because I surely wouldn’t want to distract you from all-mighty ServMed.” She slammed the door, leaving him alone in the foyer.

  He picked up his bags. “Timesaver.”

  He’d give anything to have that morning back. He got up to pour a second cup of coffee when Bobbi came in the kitchen. “You didn’t sleep in that chair, did you?” she asked. “That wasn’t necessary.”

  “I didn’t want to leave you.” He set a cup of coffee on the table for her. He leaned against the sink and took a long drink from his cup. “I’m going to go get your car. Will you be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” The phone rang and Bobbi’s irritation with his hovering came through in her ‘hello.’

  Chuck sipped his coffee and waited to see who called. He realized he forfeited the courtesy of knowing who talked to his wife, but after last night, he wasn’t leaving unless she made him.

  “I have a four o’clock doctor’s appointment,” Bobbi announced, and hung up the phone.

  “Can I drive you?”

  “I’ve been driving for myself for years, now.”

  “Please?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be back soon with your car.” Chuck had to fight off the urge to kiss her before he walked out.

  Rita rushed to answer the doorbell without checking the driveway. Who on earth? She swung the door open and her jaw dropped. “Chuck?” She recovered quickly. “Where’s Bobbi?” She glanced past him toward his car. “Bobbi’s at home. She drove out to Dixson Lake yesterday, and we left her car so I could drive her home. I was hoping Gavin could go with me to pick it up. Is he here?”

  “No, he’s not. They all went to the mall to stand in line to buy some video game. I have no idea when they’ll be back.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Chuck said, turning to leave.

  “Wait, I’ll go with you,” Rita said. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Uh . . . no,” Chuck said, unable to hide his surprise.

  “Let me get shoes and a coat.” She shut the front door, then returned a moment later, locked up and followed Chuck to his car. The tiny interior of the two-seater dictated that Rita sit with her shoulder almost touching Chuck’s. No wonder Bobbi hated this car.

  Rita tried to focus on the road ahead, but she couldn’t help glancing over when Chuck shifted gears. This sudden concern had to be an act. Gavin claimed that it was best for Chuck to stay with Bobbi last night. She shot back that if Bobbi was that vulnerable, Chuck was the last person she needed. Through the night and into this morning Rita beat back every protective instinct in her, and she’d stood it as long as she could.

  “Why did Bobbi drive out to the lake?” she asked.

  “She just wanted to get away and think about things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “What do you think, Rita?” Chuck said, irritation in his voice. “Our marriage, her life . . . lots of things.”

  Rita couldn’t hold back any more. The sentence she said to herself so many times in the past few months came out with all the accusation and venom she felt. “You don’t have any idea how much you hurt her, do you?”

  She stiffened, ready for him to lash back and defend himself. Instead, he began outlining his case, his voice rising as he ticked off his points.

  “Let’s see, I stripped away the sense of security she so desperately needed since losing her mom and dad. Two, I have instilled a paralyzing fear of hurt and rejection in her that has prevented us from accomplishing anything in counseling. Three, I’ve made her question her judgment and her intuition, because I blindsided her with my affair.”

  “Chuck—”

  He held his hand up. “I’m nowhere near finished. Four, I stole the joy that should have come from having her own class. Five, I’ve driven her to withdraw from everyone and everything she loves, including you. Six, I have forever tainted the memory of our anniversary. Seven, I’ve created a burden of guilt in her because she feels like Brad and Joel have been shortchanged as we have tried to work through my infidelity.”

  He paused just a moment as he watched his rearview mirror. “Let’s see. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Eight, I shook her faith in God. Nine, she hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep since July, and she’s lost weight from not eating right. Now, to top it all off, she has an appointment with a psychiatrist this afternoon that is one hundred percent my fault. Did I leave anything out? You want to add anything?”

  Rita sat in silence with no rebuttal.

  “You can say a lot of things about me and I deserve all of them I’m sure, but I live every minute of every day with the full knowledge of how deeply I hurt Bobbi, and for the most selfish and disgusting reason.”

  He didn’t bother to hide his tears. “But you know what?” He whispered. “She still loves me.”

  “Chuck, I owe you an apology. Gavin told me you had changed, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. I don’t blame you for wanting to protect Bobbi. She needs you right now. She needs your support and your presence. There’s still a hard road ahead.”

  “You mean with the psychiatrist?”

  “Donna recommended she see one.”

  “For what?”

  “Any number of things, depression, anxiety, sleeping on the sofa—”

  “She’s still doing that?” Rita asked.

  “Still?”

  “I don’t think she’s slept in her bed since . . . since all this started.”

  “Great, that’s number eleven,” Chuck muttered. He found Bobbi’s car just where he left it. He handed Rita his extra keys and she opened her door to get out.

  “Do you think I could stop in and see Bobbi for a minute when we get back?”

  “She’d like that.”

  “See you back at the house then,” Rita said, closing the car door.

  “You could have gone on in,” Chuck said when he met Rita in his driveway.

  “Yeah, I know. Just check with Bobbi first.”

  Chuck knocked as he opened the front door. “Bobbi! I’m back!” Not ‘I’m home.’

  “I’m in the kitchen.”

  Chuck found her at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee. “Rita ended up going to the lake with me.” Bobbi’s eyebrows arched in surprise at the mention of her sister’s name. “She wanted to see you, but she asked me to check with you before she came in.”

  “Tell her to come in. Good grief.”

  “I’m going to go get a shower an
d change clothes, but I’ll be back by three,” Chuck said, before heading back out.

  “See you then,” Bobbi said as he left.

  Rita paced the front sidewalk, but snapped around when she heard the front door open. “Bobbi’s in the kitchen,” Chuck said, motioning toward the house.

  “Listen, Chuck, why don’t you and Bobbi come for cake tomorrow evening about seven? That is, if she’s up to it, and you can stand to be around me.”

  “Are you inviting me to your home, for your birthday? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, you jerk.” Rita smiled and punched him in the arm.

  Chuck hugged his sister-in-law. “Now get in there. Bobbi needs you.”

  Rita eased the door open and walked back to the kitchen. For the first time in months, Bobbi looked rested. “How are you this morning?”

  “Better, thanks,” Bobbi said. “Thank you for letting my boys freeload. Again.”

  “Don’t mention it. I don’t have to entertain Danny when they’re at the house.”

  “You want some coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” Rita took a deep breath. “Bobbi, I need to apologize to you. Instead of being supportive while you work through this with Chuck, I’ve been an additional problem for you to deal with—”

  “You just want to protect me,” Bobbi interrupted.

  “That’s no excuse. Chuck and I talked on the way out to the lake. I apologized to him, and I don’t want things between Chuck and me to be another burden for you. I’m sorry I let that happen.”

  Bobbi reached over to hug her sister. “I’ve missed you.”

  “So, how are you, really?” Rita asked.

  “Better than I’ve been in weeks.”

  “Chuck says it’s depression, not food poisoning.” Rita crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

  “You caught me,” Bobbi admitted. “I think things are turning around, though. Chuck and I should be able to take some real steps forward now.”

  “Yeah, who was that guy, anyway? I almost asked for his driver’s license.”

  “He was so sweet to me last night and he insisted on driving me to the doctor’s appointment this afternoon.”

  “Just guard your heart. Don’t let Prince Charming cloud your judgment.”

  “Rita—”

  “Wasn’t it President Reagan who said ‘trust but verify?’ That’s all I’m saying.”

  CHAPTER 19 PALLIATION

  Bobbi poured herself another cup of coffee and retreated to the study to enjoy a few moments of peace before Chuck returned. She needed all the soothing she could get right now.