Contingency: Covenant of Trust Book One

  “It’s not meddling. I wish you’d been here through this whole mess. There were so many times I wanted to sit down and talk with you.”

  “I’ve thought about that myself. This really scared me, and I hated that helpless feeling.” She glanced back toward the kitchen doorway. “I picked up some real estate catalogs this morning. I’m moving back.”

  Bobbi turned to hug her mother-in-law. “How soon?”

  “As soon as I can find a place that suits me,” she said, then a mischievous smile spread across her face. “I’m a little particular, you know.”

  The Molinskys attended the candlelight Christmas Eve worship service as a family, complete and intact. After church, the five of them drove around town looking at the Christmas lights and decorations. Rita sent over a pecan pie, a pumpkin pie, and a chocolate cake, and after a late snack, Ann and the boys said goodnight and headed upstairs to their bedrooms.

  Chuck settled in the corner of the family room sofa, finishing his glass of milk.

  “Do you care if I sit with you?” Bobbi asked. So far, Christmas was low key, just as she hoped. Now the test. Could Chuck maintain the truce? Could he sit here with her, and not bring up their marriage?

  “I’d love it,” he said, tossing a pillow to the floor. “Thank you.”

  “For what? Sitting with you?”

  “That and for letting me be here.”

  “Good grief,” Bobbi said, rolling her eyes.

  “I’m serious. You could have divorced me, and been perfectly justified, but you didn’t. I will never take that for granted.”

  “I couldn’t divorce you.” She pulled the afghan from the back of the sofa and spread it across her legs. So much for the truce. “And it’s not because I’m some super-forgiving person.”

  “Phil says women have a much better understanding of the tender heart of God because of the things they face in life. You have been grace to me when everyone else called for justice. I can’t thank you, or thank God for you, enough.” Chuck shifted and fished in his pants pocket, pulling out a small, unwrapped box. “Here,” he said, placing the box in Bobbi’s hand.

  Bobbi slid away from him on the sofa. “You promised we wouldn’t get each other anything for Christmas.”

  “It’s not what you think. Just open it.”

  She frowned and opened it. “It’s your wedding band. I don’t understand.”

  “Keep it for me, until you’re ready for me to come home again. I don’t feel right just putting it on and wearing it.”

  “I wear mine. You don’t ‘feel right’ wearing a wedding band?”

  “It’s not that,” he said. “I don’t want to assume a commitment from you that you aren’t ready to make.”

  “So I won’t commit? Are you honestly suggesting that it’s my fault we aren’t reconciled?”

  “Not at all! I’m doing this wrong.” He rubbed his eyes and let a long slow breath go. “I wanted it, the ring, to symbolize when this was over. That’s all. Like a new beginning.”

  “Does it fit?”

  “Better than the day you first gave it to me.”

  “I don’t know how much longer it’ll be.” She slid the lid back on the box. “There’s more to coming home than just bringing your clothes back. We have a history here.” She glanced around the room. “Everything is tainted now.”

  “Let’s move then.” He moved closer to her and took her hands. “Let’s move, or build a place.” His eyes twinkled and he nodded. He’d made his mind up already. “Get a fresh start.”

  “It’s not the house. It’s the memories.”

  “Then we’ll make new ones. Rita can find us the perfect place!”

  “What about the boys? This is the only home they’ve ever known.”

  “Honey, when they hear the reasoning behind it, they’ll be all for it.”

  “Well . . . what about our finances?”

  “You know them better than I do. This house has tripled in value since we bought it, and it’s nearly paid off. With the equity built up in it, we’d come out ahead unless we bought something outrageous.”

  Sunday, December 25, Christmas Day

  Bobbi poured a scoop of Indonesian coffee into the basket of her single cup coffeemaker, pushed the button, and waited while it brewed. Chuck and Ann had gone back to his place, and the boys disappeared upstairs. The house was quiet again at last. Lord, we did it. We got through Christmas. Thank You.

  Before the coffeemaker kicked off, the phone rang. “Hey, Baby, how did things go?” Rita asked. “Good Christmas?”

  “Yeah, just a couple of weird moments, but this morning was good. The boys were totally blown away by their laptops. How’s the Heatley tribe?”

  “Two of Gavin’s brothers are gonna be granddads, and one of his nieces is engaged. So, what kind of weird?”

  “Chuck . . . He wants me to keep his wedding ring until we reconcile. Said he didn’t want to just wear it.”

  “You’re wearing yours, aren’t you?”

  “That’s what I told him. Not only that, he thinks we should move.”

  “Because?”

  “Because he’s tired of waiting on me, and he’s pressuring me to drop my very legitimate protests, just like he’s done on everything for eighteen years.”

  “He said that?”

  “I’m inferring. I said we had a history here, and he wants to start over somewhere else.”

  “He may have a point.”

  “I’m sorry, you have a wrong number. I thought this was my sister calling.”

  “Baby, think about it for just a minute. You won’t sleep in your bed because of what it reminds you of. You have too many triggers in that house.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Which coffee mug were you drinking out of the morning you found Chuck’s e-mail?”

  “The lighthouse one.”

  “Have you used it since then?”

  “No.”

  “But it’s still in your cabinet, and you see it every day, and you think, ‘that’s the cup from the day I found out Chuck cheated,’ don’t you?”

  “You’re really obnoxious, you know that?”

  “I think it would help you move on.”

  “I’m not sure I can handle the stress right now.”

  “What stress? I’ll find the house, and Chuck can hire professional movers. All you’ll have to do is unlock the front door on your new house.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Let me start the process. You can shut it down at any time before the offer.”

  “Ask Gavin. If he thinks it’s a good idea, then . . . start the ball rolling.”

  Thursday, January 5

  After a hectic morning with her students still wound up from Christmas break, Bobbi enjoyed the peace of a working lunch in her classroom. Just a few minutes into the lunch period, though, her phone rang. “Hey, you want to sell your house this week? I have a highly motivated buyer.”

  “Rita, I’m at school. I can’t do this now.”

  “It’s lunch time, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Okay, then. Like I said, the buyer is highly motivated. They’ll pay the asking price, no questions, no conditions, and they want it as soon as possible.”

  “No inspection, even?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Who in the world is it?”

  “It’s a young couple. He’s being transferred here, and they need a place fast, but they don’t want to rent.”

  “This sounds vaguely familiar . . . At Thanksgiving, didn’t Kara say that John was taking a new sales territory with the chemical company?”

  “She did.”

  “You’re selling my house to Kara and John?”

  “Listen, they were all over it when they found out you were selling. If you still like the house on Danbury, we can close this in a couple of weeks.”

  “No, they don’t need that kind of house payment. I couldn’t do it in good conscience.”


  “John’s going to put down sixty percent. Their payment will probably be less than yours.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Maybe not, but he also said if you’d come down twenty-five grand, he’d pay cash.”

  “Where did they get that kind of money?”

  “John’s parents gave them a huge chunk of change when they got married, which John invested, and they’ve put every dime of Kara’s salary in mutual funds. That boy is loaded.”

  “This is too fast,” Bobbi sighed. “The house has only been on the market for a week.”

  “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  “No. I guess I’m not mentally prepared to sell yet. I’ll talk to Chuck, but I can’t imagine that he would have any objections. If they’re sure—”

  “They’re positive. Call me after you talk to Chuck, and we’ll start the paperwork.”

  Bobbi clicked her phone off and dropped it back into her purse. Chuck expected her to have everything resolved when they moved. That was the purpose of moving, after all. With a good offer on her house, she was running out of time.

  Friday, January 6

  Donna set her coffee down and waved when Bobbi bustled into Dear Joe for their weekly cup.

  “It’s not after four, is it?” She dropped her bag on the floor under the table. “Ted called a staff meeting . . . On a Friday! Let me grab a cup, then I have some questions for you.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Donna watched as Bobbi stood at the counter for a few seconds, then a young man, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Chuck, pushed through the double doors from the back of the shop.

  “Hey, Beautiful.” He flashed a smile and leaned on the counter. “Where’ve you been?”

  This was not typical customer-shop owner banter, and as Donna watched the conversation, she began to rack up questions of her own.

  “I was here last week,” Bobbi said.

  He hung his head. “I was over at the Forest Park shop. Definitely my loss. You look great.”

  Oh, Bobbi, don’t you see what’s going on?

  “Thanks. I feel good.”

  “Lemme guess, a Molly Moroccan.”

  “Sounds good. You have me hooked on that, you know.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled, then counted out the dollar bills for her coffee.

  The young man set her cup on the counter and swept up the money. He punched a button on his cash register and drew out several coins from the cash drawer. He reached over, held Bobbi’s hand in his right hand and dropped the coins in her palm with his left.

  “Baby, your hands are freezing!” he said, dropping his left hand down to cover hers. “I need to get you a second cup just to hold.” Donna cringed.

  “I’ll warm up. Thanks, Clay.” Bobbi picked up her coffee and joined Donna at the table.

  Lord, give me wisdom. “You had some questions?” Donna asked.

  “Phil gave me some homework.” She pulled a notebook from her bag, and laid it on the table. She sipped her coffee as she leafed through it. “Here we go. He had me read Hosea.”

  “Oh, that’s the perfect story.”

  “But is it telling me I’m supposed to accept things, take Chuck back, and go on? God didn’t give Hosea any options about buying his wife back from the slave market, even though she’d left him to become a prostitute. That’s asking a lot.”

  “God asks us to love the way He does, unconditionally, with grace and forgiveness.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that. I love Chuck. I will honor my vow to him, but is that enough? It feels like I’m acting out of obligation.”

  Donna took a long drink from her coffee and relaxed when the shop owner disappeared through the double doors. “First of all, this struggle is a wonderful thing. You want an authentic marriage, and God will honor that.”

  “So we haven’t blown our opportunity?” Bobbi asked.

  “Of course not.” Bobbi said ‘we.’ She was already reconciled in her mind, yet she resisted it with everything she had. “Is that the problem?” Donna asked. “Are you afraid God won’t bless your marriage now?”

  Bobbi shook her head. “It’s more than that. This is such foreign territory for me, I don’t know how to . . .” She dropped her eyes. “I can’t trust God that Chuck won’t do . . . something like this again. He’s challenging me to, I know He is, but—”

  “What do you want from Him?”

  “I want proof Chuck understands what he did, and he won’t do it again.”

  “Bobbi, can I share some observations that might be difficult to hear?” Donna pushed her coffee cup aside and leaned up to the table. Bobbi nodded. “Chuck has a weakness. I don’t think there’s any question about that. What I hear, though, is there is no grace for Chuck, but you want every accommodation for your insecurities and weaknesses.”

  Bobbi snapped back in her chair as if Donna had slapped her. “That’s not true at all.”

  “Let me explain. That man at the counter was flirting with you. Relentlessly. He was out of line.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Chuck.”

  “Chuck has seen him?”

  “Yes, and he was defensive and jealous.”

  Donna smiled. “Chuck reacted that way because he could see what was happening . . . because it happened to him.”

  “Chuck committed adultery because a woman flirted with him? That’s ludicrous.”

  “Lust is not your weakness, Bobbi. You don’t see how enticing it is. You didn’t even recognize what was going on.”

  “Because nothing was. You’re both overreacting.”

  Donna raised a finger and smiled. “However, your weakness is doing everything yourself because you don’t trust another soul.”

  “I trust you . . . and Phil . . . and Rita and Gavin—”

  “And there are two glaring omissions from that list.”

  “Chuck and God.” Bobbi frowned and gulped her coffee.

  “Honey, you’re demanding a guarantee that Chuck cannot give you, and that God will not give you.”

  “After all this, he can’t promise he’ll be faithful? What have we been doing for six months, then?”

  “Hey, Hotshot. Gonna grace us with your presence for a day or two?”

  Chuck swiveled his office chair around and smiled at Tracy. “This afternoon and all day tomorrow.”

  “Gone next week?”

  “Flying out Monday, and staying til it’s finished. Round the clock if we have to.”

  “Flying? You are the man, now.”

  “It’s a commuter hop. Hardly big time.”

  “Even so, Gina’s not flying over there.” She walked over and dropped a folder on his desk. “I got the background on Burke County. If you’re good with the angle, I can take care of the details.”

  “I’ll take a look at it.” He pulled the folder onto his stack. He could smell her perfume. She’d gotten her hair trimmed, maybe. No suit jacket today, just a sleeveless cotton sweater that accented her tan and her well-defined upper arms. She must go to the gym every day. She had plenty of stamina, that was for sure.

  “Hey, are you with me?” she said, waving a hand. “I bet you’re having trouble remembering where you slept last.”

  No, he remembered that perfectly. An empty hotel room with just a television for company, and every woman on every show reminded him of her.

  He thought being with Bobbi this weekend would rid his mind of Tracy, and everything about her. Far from it. Bobbi loved him, but Tracy wanted him, and he . . . wanted her.

  He tapped the folder on his desk. “I’ll get back with you before the day’s out on this.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  His eyes followed her out of his office and back down the hall. She had great legs. So did Bobbi. Bobbi. He never called her when he got into the office. He snatched the phone up and dialed his home number.

  He had tried his best during the past week to stay on Bobbi’s good side. He called her eve
ry night from Kansas City. He made sure he asked about the boys, about school, even about Rita. He wanted to give her every reassurance. On the fourth ring, she picked up.

  “You’re back in town?”

  “Yeah, if you don’t care, I’m gonna go ahead and stay late tonight to get everything caught up. That way I’ll get home on time tomorrow night.”

  “Caught up? What else is there? I thought ServMed was all you had right now.”

  “Well, I had a couple of things come up with my regular clients, and Walter’s got me on a new case with one of our young attorneys.”

  “Can’t anybody else do that? You’re too busy as it is.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have to do much on this one, just offer some guidance.”

  She sighed. “You want me to save you some dinner?”

  “No, I have no idea what time I’ll get home.”

  “I’ll see you later, then.”

  He held the receiver, ready to dial again, when his eyes fell on the framed picture sitting to the left of his computer. His family. Beautiful, devoted wife. Handsome sons. He reached up and lay the picture face down. As long as he didn’t get greedy, they’d never know, they’d never get hurt.

  He dialed Tracy’s extension. “Is there any way I can convince you to stay late this evening?”

  “Well, I had plans, Chuck.”

  “Sure. This is short notice. I understand.” He leaned over his desk, ready to hang up.

  “Is there something in particular that you need? Maybe I can take care of it right now.”

  “Uh . . . no.”

  He reached over, ready to hang his phone up once again when she spoke. “Your office?”

  “Conference room.”

  “I have an appointment, but I’ll be back by six-thirty.”

  “I’ll make sure the door’s not locked.”

  CHAPTER 23 DISCLOSURE

  Monday, January 16

  Bobbi followed Dr. Craig into his office and settled into the now familiar chair across from him.

  “Let’s get right into this session,” he said. “We left off talking about your dad, and those years between your mom’s death and his death. How do you feel about your dad?”

  Bobbi uncrossed her legs and sat up a little straighter in her chair. So many complex emotions, too much to deal with today. “Disappointed.”