Contingency: Covenant of Trust Book One
IF YOU COUNT ME AS A PARTNER, RECEIVE HIM AS YOU WOULD ME. IF
HE WRONGS YOU AGAIN, PUT THAT ON MY ACCOUNT, SO GREAT IS MY CONFIDENCE IN HIM. BOBBI, HAVING CONFIDENCE IN YOUR OBEDIENCE, I WRITE TO YOU, KNOWING THAT YOU WILL DO EVEN MORE THAN I SAY.
THE GRACE OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST BE WITH YOUR SPIRIT. AMEN.
“Phil,” Bobbi whispered. He took Paul’s letter to Philemon and rewrote it for her, assuring her, on his own character and reputation, that it was safe to take Chuck back. Besides that, he was confident she would do it.
The words she read last night ran through her mind. ‘How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I give you up?’
Rereading the letter, the pieces began to fall into place. God met her at the level of her trust. She trusted Phil Shannon, so God promised her through Phil that the changes she saw in her husband were genuine. She didn’t have to be afraid. She could take that step into her Father’s arms. He wouldn’t let her go under.
She searched through her purse until she found her rings and slid them on. “Phil, I’m sorry you didn’t get to see this.”
As soon as the bell rung that afternoon, Bobbi drove straight to Chuck’s office. “Mrs. Molinsky, it’s good to see you!” Christine smiled and waved when Bobbi walked into the law firm’s lobby. “Do you want me to call Mr. Molinsky?”
“Yes, but tell him it’s Mary Roberta Petrocelli,” Bobbi answered. She imagined the puzzlement on Chuck’s face as Christine relayed her maiden name.
“He’ll be right out,” Christine said.
Chuck strode into the lobby before she hung up the phone. “What’s going on?” In spite of his quick response, Bobbi could read him. Mental and spiritual exhaustion pressed on him.
“I need to talk to you,” Bobbi said.
“Of course, come on back.” Chuck motioned her towards his office. He followed her and closed his office door as she took a seat. “You, uh, caught me off guard using your maiden name. Are you trying to tell me something?”
“First of all, did you hear . . . Phil . . . about Phil?”
“Yeah, Gavin called me. Are you okay? After yesterday, I was afraid the news about Phil might be a little too much.”
“I can’t believe that was just yesterday,” she said, then looked into her husband’s eyes. “It hit you hard, too, didn’t it?”
He looked away for a moment. “It’s like when my dad . . . Phil . . . I owe him a lot.” He exhaled sharply and blinked several times before meeting her eyes again.
“Chuck, I want to apologize to you—”
“You don’t need to apologize to me.”
“Yes, I do. I said I forgave you, but I couldn’t let go of the anger, and the hurt, and the fear that it would happen again. That wasn’t forgiveness. Then I made you chase a moving target when it came to reconciliation.”
She paused and glanced up at the ceiling, trying to prevent tears from spilling onto her cheeks. “Yesterday . . . it hurt like that first day, hearing you say it . . . but I also know it could’ve been worse. If you wanted to have an affair, it would have been much easier after I made you move out.” She shifted in her chair and took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is, I believe you love me and you want to make our marriage work—”
“Oh, thank You, God!” Chuck knelt down in front of her, eyes brimming with tears, and took her hands. “I was so afraid after yesterday I was beyond forgiveness. I prayed God would give you whatever it took to see my heart now, not what I did to you.”
“Wait, I still . . . I need to know, what’s changed, what’s going to be different from now on.”
“Sure,” Chuck said, wiping his eyes, and slipping back to his seat. “For starters, I’m making a job change.”
“You can’t leave this firm. We discussed that already.”
“I’m not leaving it. I’m, uh, running it.”
“Are you serious?”
“Walter’s retiring March first. Now I won’t have to travel, and I’ll have control over my workload. Plus I won’t have to worry about impressing my boss anymore.” He smiled at her. “I’ll have the freedom to devote the kind of time to you and our marriage that I should have been doing all along. I always made a point of carving out time for the boys, but never for us. That was stupid.”
“I put the boys before us, too. I figured they were ours for such a short time, they had to come first.”
“I also promise not to be alone with a woman again. I promise to let you know when I’m struggling with temptation instead of keeping it inside. I want to continue with some sort of counseling or mentoring or whatever, so I never drop my guard on this again, and I promise to thank God every day for giving me the grace of a second chance.”
“Be patient with me. I’ve shut you out. I’ve been unreasonable . . . There are things I need to change, too, for us to have the kind of marriage God intends.” She studied his face for a moment, and then reached into her purse ignoring her tears. She took out a small jewelry box, and when Chuck saw his own wedding band, he began to cry as well. “I believe that God has changed you, and I want to start fresh. That’s why I gave Christine my maiden name.”
She took Chuck’s left hand and slid the ring on his third finger. “Charles James Molinsky, I want you to come home. I want you to be my husband, and I want to be your wife. Until death do us part.”
Chuck took Bobbi in his arms and kissed her, held her, and then kissed her again. Several minutes later, their emotions exhausted, Bobbi said, “I want us to go see Donna.”
“Of course,” Chuck said, as he shut his computer down. “I’ll let Christine know I’m gone for the day.” While he closed folders, stacked files, and cleared his desk, Bobbi called home.
“Mom?” Brad answered. “Are you okay? I didn’t think you were going to be late today.”
“I stopped by Dad’s office. We’re going to go see Donna for a little while. Will you guys be okay until we get home?”
“You and Dad are going together?”
“Get used to it.”
“I’ll tell Joel.”
“Make sure he understands ‘we’ will be ‘home’ later.”
“Gotcha. Oh, Grandma called. She said everything went through at the bank, and she changed her plane ticket so she could be here for Pastor Phil’s funeral.”
“Dad or I will call her when we get home. We shouldn’t be too long.
Love you.”
“Love you, too, and Mom, I’m really happy for you.”
CHAPTER 25 VINDICATION
“You’re staring,” Bobbi said, as she eased her Camry to a stop in front of the Shannons’ house.
“I can’t help it,” Chuck said. “I’ve pictured this day for months, and it’s finally here.”
“Well, I don’t want to climb over the gear shift, so you’ll have to loosen that death grip on my hand so I can get out of the car.”
“If I have to,” he muttered, but took her hand again as soon as he made it around the car.
She let him lead her onto the porch, and they waited several long moments after Chuck rang the doorbell. At last, David Shannon opened the door. “Bobbi,” David said, leaning down to hug her, then he turned and shook Chuck’s hand. “Chuck, good to see you. Thanks for coming.”
“We should have called.” Bobbi said.
“Nonsense.” He held the door open for them. “Mom’s inside.”
“She’s up for visitors?”
“She’s a very strong, courageous woman, and she would hang me if I didn’t bring you in.” He smiled and ushered them around to the living room where Donna sat in the corner of the sofa with a little boy on her lap engrossed in a book, while his toddler sister played in the floor nearby. “Mom, Bobbi and Chuck are here.”
Donna looked up and patted the little boy’s leg. “Grant, let Nana up for a minute.” She lifted her grandson, and set him on the sofa by himself.
As soon as she stood, Bobbi crossed the room and hugged her. “I am so sorry.”
“Thank you, Honey. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” When they let go, Chuck gave Donna a gentle hug as well. Wiping her eyes, Donna said, “You know David, I guess. These are his little ones. Grant is four, and Maddie is fifteen months.” She glanced toward the hallway and back in the kitchen. “Jan is around here somewhere. She’s been on telephone duty most of the afternoon. And Cooper, bless his heart, he showed up at the hospital by five-thirty, and he’s been at the church the rest of the day.”
“I can’t believe David’s babies are this big,” Bobbi said. “They’ll be Brad’s size before you know it.”
“They’ve grown since Christmas,” Donna said, watching Maddie play with a Noah’s ark set. “Michael and Stacy will get here tonight. Their little boy is walking now.” Grant had climbed down from the sofa and stood behind his grandmother, watching Bobbi and Chuck.
“Grant, this is Mr. and Mrs. Molinsky.” Donna slipped a hand to the boy’s back, guiding him forward. “They go to church with Papa and me.”
“My Papa is in heaven.” Grant inched closer and held his hand out.
“Yes, he is,” Bobbi said. She shook his hand, then knelt down to Grant’s eye level. “Mr. Chuck and I love your Papa very much. He’s a very special man.”
“Daddy says we’ll see him again someday.” Grant turned to shake hands with Chuck.
“We sure will,” Chuck said.
“Grant, you have such pretty red hair,” Bobbi said, smoothing his bangs.
“He gets it from his Papa,” Donna said, laying a hand on her grandson’s shoulder. “My boys got my blonde hair, but my grandsons are both red-headed like their Papa. Did you know Phil when his hair was still red?”
“It was already gray when you came,” Bobbi said.
“Oh, you’re right,” Donna said. “He went completely gray, oh . . . before he turned thirty, I guess.”
“Donna, we won’t stay long,” Chuck said. “We just wanted to tell you how sorry we were, and how much you and Phil mean to us. We couldn’t have gotten through the last few months without you.”
“Thank you,” Donna said, then smiled as Grant wriggled away and climbed back on the sofa. “We love you and your boys so very much.”
“When Rita called this morning,” Bobbi said, shaking her head. Rising emotion choked off her words, and she didn’t want to fall apart in front of Donna.
Donna nodded. “Phil’s health was much poorer than anybody realized, and the doctor cautioned us a stroke or something was a real possibility. You remember back—when was it—Labor Day? When we had to cancel one of your appointments?”
Bobbi nodded. It all made sense now.
“After the doctor checked things out, he determined it wasn’t just a blood pressure or medication issue. Phil had several blood clots. His doctor didn’t want to risk surgery, for fear Phil wouldn’t make it off the table, so we did several rounds of different clot-busting drugs. None of them helped. The whole time, the doctor warned us that if one of the clots moved, and hit his heart, or his lungs, or his brain, it would almost surely be fatal.”
Donna looked away, and her voice weakened. “He . . . woke up a little before four this morning, and said he had a tremendous headache, and before I could get the light on . . .”
“I’m so sorry. We had no idea.”
“Phil wouldn’t tell anybody, wouldn’t let me tell anybody,” Donna said wiping her eyes. “He didn’t want to cause a fuss. He wanted to just keep working, and if God wanted to heal him, He would, but if God was ready for him to come home, that was just fine, too. We had told our kids the situation, but I don’t think another soul knew.”
“Donna, is there anything you need?” Chuck asked.
“No, thank you. With the kids here, I’ll be fine. Just pray for David. He’s going to preach his daddy’s funeral Monday. It’ll be hard.”
“We should go,” Bobbi said, looking at Chuck. She had planned to tell Donna that she and Chuck reconciled, but after seeing Donna in person, it seemed the wrong time. The news would keep. “We love you,” she said giving Donna another quick hug.
Chuck moved his left hand to Bobbi’s back to walk out, but before he could take a step, Donna spoke. “Is that a new piece of jewelry, Chuck?”
Chuck turned back around and smiled. “I just got it today.”
“So, is it official?” Donna’s eyes twinkled.
“I’m sorry Phil didn’t get to see us together,” Bobbi said.
“Honey, he knew it was going to happen.”
“Wednesday . . .” Bobbi said and glanced away. Shame gripped her heart for the anger and bitterness she vented yesterday afternoon. “He knew just what I needed.” She searched through her purse for Phil’s letter, and handed it to Donna.
Donna opened the letter, pausing to wipe away tears as she read. “I can hear him saying that,” she whispered at last. She folded the letter carefully, gently, and slid it back in its envelope. “Thank you for sharing it.”
“I could not have done this without you and Phil,” Bobbi said, taking Chuck’s hand.
“Yes, you could have,” Donna said with a gentle smile. “God just allowed Phil and me the blessing of being part of it. Now you go bless somebody else and we’ll call it even.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Bobbi watched Chuck wrinkle his brow in confusion as she drove past the turnoff to their street. “Trust me,” she said and reached over to pat his hand. When she pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, he smiled and kissed her cheek.
“I’ll help you carry things,” she said as she unbuckled her seat belt.
“You don’t need to. I won’t try to get it all today.” He opened the car door then paused. “I’d rather spend my first evening back at home actually at home, and not moving boxes.”
Bobbi watched him disappear inside the apartment building, then she leaned back against the headrest. Lord, I doubted we would ever see this day. You worked a miracle, though. Thank You for bringing things back to normal. Normal wasn’t exactly the right word, however. Thank You for a second chance.
Later that evening, Chuck awoke to the news playing on the television in the family room. The Missouri-Iowa State basketball game had ended, and Brad and Joel had cleared out. He stretched, then clicked the television off. The emotional intensity of the last two days caught up with him. Maybe he could sleep in tomorrow. How bad would it look if he slid in to work late the day after being named sole managing partner?
He walked through the kitchen, and locked the back door. He checked Bobbi’s coffeemaker, making sure it was ready to go in the morning. He sighed and glanced around the room one more time before turning out the light, his eyes brimming with tears. He was home.
“Thank you,” he whispered, then flipped the switch, and made his way toward the front stairs.
Bobbi called to him from the living room. “Where are you sleeping?”
He wondered that very thing himself, but decided to sleep in the guest bedroom just as he had done at Christmas. That is, unless Bobbi had other ideas. “Wherever you tell me to,” he said.
“Don’t you have a bed?” She switched the living room lamp off, picked up her pillow and blanket, and crossed the room to him.
“Don’t you?”
“I do,” she said, handing him her blanket and pillow, “and I have a husband worth sharing it with.”
Sunday, January 29
The Molinskys slipped into the morning worship service, almost unnoticed, just after the music started. As much as Bobbi wanted to be there as a family, she experienced a painful awkwardness when she walked in the sanctuary. By coming in late, she hoped to insulate herself from the uneasiness.
A heavy stillness hung over the people, over the very space inside the building. No one spoke above a whisper. No one had the heart to sing the hymns. For Preston Road Community Church, Phil Shannon’s funeral had already begun.
Bobbi whispered a prayer for Cooper DeWitt, seated alone on the front pew. He had to walk t
he church through the devastating grief, to preach this morning in Phil’s place. With a fresh haircut and a tailored suit, he looked fifteen years older. As the last hymn finished, Bobbi saw him drop his head for just a moment before standing and taking his place behind the podium. Opening his Bible seemed to take all his strength. He laid a sheet of notes to the side, swallowed hard, then lifted his head.
“Folks, seminary certainly didn’t prepare me for a day like today. I doubt all the experience and wisdom in the world would be much help after a loss like this.” He scanned the crowd. “Miss Donna . . . I spoke with her yesterday afternoon . . . just, uh . . . just pray for God’s supernatural comfort on her. David and Michael convinced her that the service this morning on top of the visitation and funeral might be a bit too much, so she’s not here.”
But Donna was there. Everyone was so focused on the young man in the pulpit, so determined to do this well for Phil’s sake, they never saw Donna Shannon steal in from the back.
Her boys had done their very best to persuade her to stay home, to consider her own health, and not subject herself to the emotional strain of being in a worship service without her husband. With the visitation tonight and the funeral tomorrow, she needed her energy, they said. Everyone would understand.
Perhaps, but David and Michael didn’t understand that she craved a feeling of comfort and closeness with Phil, a feeling she could only find at church, Phil’s place.
Cooper looked toward his wife, the same way Phil always caught Donna’s eye before he preached. Then Cooper began to speak with conviction and resolve. “In First Corinthians eleven, Paul instructs the people, ‘Imitate me just as I also imitate Christ.’” Cooper described the way Phil taught him how to pastor, how to study and pray, and served as his role model in every facet of ministry, all because Phil followed Christ.
Chuck slipped an arm around Bobbi’s shoulders. She glanced up at him, and tried to smile. The longer Cooper spoke, the more her stomach churned. Sweat beaded across her chest and back. With her pulse pounding in her ears, Bobbi closed her eyes. Dear God, help me get through this service. Just a few more minutes. Relief never came, though. The blood drained from her hands, leaving them icy white. She glanced at Chuck again, but he never took his eyes off Cooper.