Contingency: Covenant of Trust Book One

Bobbi was backing up toward the car. “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t . . . the smell . . . it’s making me nauseous.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No . . .”

  Before he knew it, she rounded the bumper, and threw up in the weeds. “Bobbi!” He stood by, not sure if he should help, or what exactly he could do. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I thought when you wanted to come out here . . .”

  “I did,” she said weakly, then heaved one last time. “I’m fine. Really.” She pulled a tissue from the pocket of her jeans, and wiped her mouth. “It’s . . . it’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. I need to get you home. As soon as the steaks finish, we’ll get out of here.”

  “No, I don’t want to go. It’s over now. It’s got to be over now.”

  “What’s over?”

  “The morning sickness. Sometimes it lasts all day.”

  He spun around in front of her and took her shoulders. “What? What did you say?” A grin spread across his face and tears welled up in his eyes. “Morning sickness? Are you . . .? Are we . . .?”

  She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “May, I think. Possibly June.”

  “That’s . . . that’s fantastic!” He hugged her, kissed her, hugged her again.

  “A baby . . . I’m gonna be a daddy . . .” He laughed out loud, but saw she was still crying. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “I wanted it to be . . . I didn’t want to tell you like this. I wanted it to be special.”

  “It is! Bobbi, this is . . . this is . . . Wow! I can’t wait to tell Mom and Dad!” He hugged her again. “I love you. I’ll be a good dad. I promise.” He put a hand on her belly and spoke to the baby. “You hear that? I promise you, I’ll be the best daddy I can be.”

  Bobbi drove to Rita’s house, her eyes glued to the taillights of her sister’s car, making the turns without ever engaging her brain. She felt like the executioner, preparing to put innocence and idealism to death. She had to admit to her sons that she and their father were frauds, keeping up appearances while their marriage languished. Now that marriage was dying, it was going to take the boys’ security and stability with it.

  The parenting books never dealt with this one. No sermons, no small group studies, no daily devotionals could walk her through it. She’d have to wing it. You can’t fall apart in front of them. Be strong, and they’ll be strong. Simple, straightforward, honest . . . You can do this. You have to do this. They have to hear it from you . . . and not Chuck.

  Rita’s husband, Gavin, opened the front door before Bobbi got out of her car. She checked herself in the rearview mirror, took a deep breath, and strode up to the porch with as much calm control as she could fake.

  Gavin, God bless him, didn’t have any sad pity in his eyes. He reached out and hugged her the way he always did, but he whispered, “Don’t choke him yet.” She had to smile.

  “Not until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “I’ll get the guys,” he said.

  “What did Gavin say to you?” Rita asked, following Bobbi into the house.

  “Not to choke Chuck yet.”

  “Yet. Remember that part.”

  Gavin came back with two bleary-eyed boys. “Staying up too late, I see,” Bobbi said, brightening a little.

  “Won’t have that option once practice starts,” Brad said, then he yawned.

  “Guys, we need to talk.” Bobbi directed her sons to the living room, as Rita and Gavin faded back into kitchen.

  “It’s about Dad, isn’t it?” Brad asked, slumping onto the sofa. “I knew it when I heard you on the phone. I knew something was up.”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t know. If I didn’t know, Brad couldn’t. She pulled the ottoman close, taking a seat on it as Joel slid in beside his brother.

  “This is just like when you told us about Grandpa Jim,” Brad said. “Has Dad got cancer or something?”

  “No, if you’ll let me talk . . .” she said in mock aggravation. Bobbi swallowed hard and looked into Brad’s eyes and then Joel’s, lingering over that last moment of ‘before.’ “Yesterday . . . your dad . . . I mean, I found out . . . your dad has had an affair.”

  “What!” Brad jumped to his feet. “With who?”

  “Sit down!” Bobbi said, with a sharpness she never intended. “That’s irrelevant.” She laid a hand on Joel’s knee. “Honey, do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Of course you do,” Bobbi whispered. “You’re not a baby anymore, are you?” She patted his knee, giving him a half smile. Joel inherited his dad’s unruly, dark blond hair, his square jaw, and his blue eyes that sparkled with just a hint of mischief.

  “Where is Dad?” Joel asked.

  “I guess he’s at work. We were both too upset to talk last night when he got home, so he spent the night somewhere else.”

  “Alone?” Brad asked through clenched teeth.

  “Brad, stop it!” Bobbi took a deep breath to calm down. Control. Don’t take it out on the boys. This is between Chuck and me.

  “Why didn’t he have the guts to tell us himself?” Brad pulled at a loose string on his shorts. “Why did he make you do it? The jerk.” The pout was already settling over him.

  “All right, that’s enough.” She lost control of the discussion and she risked losing control of her own emotions. Pick up the thread again. Be a parent. “I don’t have any answers right now.” She sighed and tried her best to relax her fists and her jaw. “Uncle Gavin is going to tell Dad that I want to talk to him tomorrow afternoon. I’m sure he’ll be anxious to talk.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to him,” Brad grumbled.

  “I know how hard this was to hear. I know you’re hurt and angry, and I’m so sorry.” Did Chuck ever consider this moment, his sons wrestling with the reality that he cheated on their mother? Did this ever cross his mind when he chose another woman?

  “Guys, I’ll be real honest with you. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know if your dad wants to leave us, and I don’t know if I want him to, but it’s going to be tough to pull us all back together—”

  “Mom! What is there to pull back together? How can you even consider—?”

  “Brad, please . . . I’ve spent the last day crying and puking my guts out.” Tears began to form. “Right now, I’d like to take my sons out for breakfast, because I could really use the company.” Bobbi tried to smile through the tears. She felt a hand sweep across her back, and then a gentle pat as Joel reached over and hugged her.

  When Joel let go, she glanced at Brad, but he twisted around her and out of the living room. “Go get your gear,” she said to Joel. The boys returned moments later. “We can talk about this any time you need to. Don’t keep things all bottled up, okay?” Joel nodded. Bobbi waited until Brad made eye contact. “Okay?” she prompted. He nodded and then looked away.

  She was failing again. She had failed as a wife and now she was failing as a mother. “Head on out to the car. I’ll be right there.” Bobbi walked back into the kitchen to let Rita know they were leaving.

  “We’re going to get out of here. Thanks for everything.”

  “I wish I could do more.” Rita hugged her again. “How did it go?”

  “I’ve got a volcano and an iceberg.”

  “You sound more upset for telling the boys than Chuck is for committing adultery in the first place.”

  “Chuck is upset.”

  “Then where is he? Why wasn’t he on your doorstep this morning begging you for forgiveness?”

  “Probably because Phil told him to back off and give me some space,” Bobbi shot back. “Listen, I can’t fight him and you and Brad.”

  “I’m not trying to fight you, Baby. Don’t cut him any slack, all right?”

  “I’m not.” Bobbi headed toward the front door with Rita following.

  “I’m sure we’ll need you again before this is all resolved.” Bobbi opened the front
door and stepped out onto the porch.

  “Gavin and I will be here.”

  “How’s the Pancake Place sound?” Bobbi called to Brad and Joel as they got into the car. For once, Joel didn’t challenge Brad for the front seat.

  CHAPTER 4 COMPANY

  Brad passed the ride in sullen silence, his bottom lip curling. He slouched into a booth at Pancake Place, but instead of picking up a menu, he took a packet of sweetener and flipped it back and forth on the table in front of him.

  “Brad, what are you thinking?” Bobbi asked. He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

  “I wish you wouldn’t hold it in. You’re not gonna shock me, no matter how angry you are.”

  “Not now.”

  “Later?”

  “Mom . . . just . . . drop it, okay?” He spun the sweetener packet between his thumb and forefinger, without ever looking up.

  She couldn’t let him brood like this, but across the table, Joel squirmed, bursting to talk. She smiled at him. “You know what you’re gonna get?”

  “Strawberry waffles!” Joel’s shoulders relaxed and he grinned. “And bacon, and can I get hash browns?”

  “Sure,” Bobbi said. “Brad?”

  “I’m not hungry,” he mumbled.

  “Brad,” Bobbi said. When he didn’t answer, she spoke his name again with a parental edge. “I don’t feel like eating either.” The strong aromas of bacon and sausage triggered a fresh round of nausea.

  “Mom, is Dad moving out?” Joel asked. Brad shot him a ‘don’t ask stupid questions look,’ which he ignored.

  “I think that would be best for a little while,” Bobbi said. “When the waitress comes, order strawberry waffles for me, too.” She slid out of the booth and excused herself to the ladies’ room.

  Bobbi washed her hands in cold water, splashing a little on her face. God, how do I parent them? How do I get Brad to open up? How do I make Joel understand I can’t answer his questions?

  After her mother died, Bobbi craved stability and security. Maybe Brad and Joel needed those same things, the stability of a routine and the security of the familiar. Focus on those. She dried her hands, fluffed her bangs, and went out to rejoin her sons. Before she reached the booth, she overheard Brad arguing with his brother.

  “Don’t you get it? It’s over! They’re splitting up.”

  “Mom didn’t say that.” Joel spoke with a calm and matter-of-fact tone.

  She wished he could bottle some of that up for her.

  “This is not some stupid movie where everybody lives happily ever after. Dad chose somebody else. He’s a liar, and I don’t care if I ever see him again.”

  “I think you’re wrong. And I can see you crying.”

  Dear God, Joel is so naïve and simplistic. What’s going to happen to him if he’s wrong? Bobbi eased into the booth, careful not to look in Brad’s direction. She didn’t want to embarrass him or tip him off that she’d heard the argument.

  “I ordered for you,” Joel said, then nodded toward his brother. “He ordered, too.” Brad stared across the restaurant at nothing in particular.

  Bobbi took a long drink from the coffee in front of her. Since Brad vented to Joel, maybe she could pull a little more out of him. “We may be in for some changes, guys, but no matter what happens, we’ll be okay. We love each other, and we’ll get through.”

  “Dad doesn’t love us,” Brad said, without anger, just indifference.

  “He does. He loves you guys more than anything.”

  Brad looked her in the eye for the first time. “How could he love me, and then do this?”

  She wondered the same thing. “You’re asking for answers I don’t have right now.” She watched him disengage, folding over every other scallop on his paper placemat, and she gave up. “So, what time does football practice start Monday?”

  Still feeling the sting of Walter Davis’ insinuations, Chuck caught himself two exits away from driving into Illinois. He pulled off the highway and backtracked through the downtown and toward the suburbs once again.

  Tracy found out Wednesday. But she didn’t call until Thursday. Wednesday night she could have talked to him, but she knew he had a meeting Thursday morning. She knew she’d get his voice mail. Why’d she wait?

  What’d she do in the meantime? Besides clean out her office. Which didn’t make any sense either. But had she confronted Bobbi Thursday morning? Was that how this all went down? Some strange woman showing up on the doorstep . . . No wonder Bobbi exploded on him.

  Bottom line, he secured some time off. That counted as a win. Bobbi knew what his job meant to him. She had to see that as a sacrifice on his part. She knew that he talked with Phil, too. This afternoon, he planned to get to her through Gavin.

  Bobbi trusted Gavin’s judgment without reservation. If he could persuade Gavin to see his side, then that would get back to Bobbi, and this whole thing would be over.

  Now, how to approach Gavin? He had to be simple and straightforward. Gavin would cut through any pretenses. I made a mistake. No, it was a sin. Gavin would be listening for that. I’ll do whatever Bobbi says to make this right. Let her set the pace, Phil said. She needs time. I need to know that she’s willing to try to work this out. That’s all I’m asking for.

  It sounded fake. What if he just went to the golf course and let the conversation develop naturally? That terrified him. But he did it all the time. When he negotiated, his intuition kicked in, and the discussion never came across scripted. He still wanted to practice. At the next red light, he popped his cell phone off his belt, and dialed the other woman who hated him, then he held his breath until Tracy’s machine picked up.

  “Uh, Tracy . . .” Get a grip. Be a man. “Tracy, this is Chuck. I got your messages. Everything you said was true. I took advantage of you and that was wrong. I’m sorry you felt that you had to resign from the firm. You’re an excellent attorney and I’m sure Walter will give you a favorable recommendation to any other firm you choose.” He sounded like a disappointed boss firing her. Proof positive he needed a script. Say something, Stupid. It’s still recording. “Look Tracy, I . . . uh, I gotta put things back together with my wife. I’m sorry.”

  Bobbi fumbled with the house key, trying to get the door unlocked before the phone stopped ringing, but the machine kicked on. “You have reached the Molinskys,” Chuck’s voice said. “You’ll never catch us if you don’t leave a message.” Gotta change that message.

  “Brad, this is Cooper DeWitt. You wanna go shoot a round? Call me.” Bobbi appreciated the invitation from the youth minister for Brad’s sake, but Cooper called because he knew. How many other people knew?

  “Did you get that?” Bobbi slipped into the downstairs bathroom for an aspirin.

  “Not interested,” he called, already upstairs. The door to his room banged shut.

  “Joel,” she called, “do you want to help me laminate?”

  “Be right there, Mom,” Joel answered.

  In the study, school papers fanned out across the floor, just where Bobbi left them Wednesday evening. The familiar and the routine. She picked through the papers, trying to reestablish where she had left off, when the phone rang.

  “Bobbi, good morning.” Chuck’s mother, Ann, called at least every other day since moving to South Carolina after Jim died. “Did Chuck make it home?”

  “Yes, he got in last night.” Which is not a lie.

  “Good. He should be home for a while, shouldn’t he?”

  Lie or drop the bomb? She needed Ann as an ally. She had to tell her. Bobbi took a deep breath and thanked God she couldn’t see Ann’s face. “Chuck and I are having some problems right now.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I know Chuck can be difficult. He takes after his dad that way.”

  “It’s more serious than that. He . . . While he was gone on this trip, I found out he was having an affair. I confronted him, and he didn’t deny it.” After a long, uncomfortable silence, Bobbi continued. “I don’t know much more ri
ght now. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.”

  “Oh, Honey.” The energy, the life had drained from her voice. “Who was it?”

  “Someone from the law firm. I have her name, that’s it. I don’t have any idea how long it’s been going on . . . if this is the first time—”

  “Bobbi, no. I can’t imagine. Does he want a divorce?”

  “I don’t know. Things got too heated last night, so we’re taking some time to cool off. I think we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “So Chuck walked out?”

  “Chuck spent the night somewhere else. I’m trying not to read anything else into it.”

  “What can I do? I feel helpless being so far away.”

  “Pray for us, Ann, and for Brad and Joel.”

  “Oh, of course. Those poor boys. They know, I guess.”

  “I told them this morning. Brad took it much harder.” Again, silence. “I don’t want to give you the impression things are hopeless. Chuck and I have both met with our pastor individually, and I think Chuck is meeting with him again today. Until he and I can talk, though, I can’t say what’s going to happen.”

  “That’s wise. I’m sure you’re still in shock.”

  “I’m going to try to work on some things for school today to keep my mind occupied.”

  “What was he thinking?” Ann asked with whispered disbelief.

  “That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question. I wish I knew.”

  “I won’t keep you on the phone.” Now Ann’s voice wavered. “You are the best thing that ever happened to Chuck. Please don’t give up on him.”

  Give up on him? Bobbi dropped the phone back on its cradle. He gave up on me. Did Ann not hear what she said? Chuck had the affair. Chuck walked away from the marriage. But of course, Ann sided with her only son.

  Bobbi eased down to the floor, then snatched the nearest stack of papers and slung them across the room. She always gave in and smoothed things over. Not this time. She was right, he was wrong and she wasn’t going to give him an inch. She could picture Chuck, this very minute, laying out his points, preparing to maneuver her into a corner emotionally so she’d let it all go. Never again.

  Chuck found a parking spot and pulled his golf bag out of the trunk without glancing toward Gavin and Phil. He wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks and then swung the bag up to his shoulder. His marriage, his future, his life hinged on this meeting. He could not screw this up. Joining the others, Chuck shook Phil’s hand, but then he broke one of his own first rules of negotiation. He couldn’t look Gavin in the eye.