"It's not a religion, Pax; it's a way of life. Religion is something you do on Sundays. Life lived in Jesus Christ is something you do every day of the week."
"Wow, you're really into this."
"I am, Pax, and I'm sorry I didn't call and let you know. Time just got away."
"Well, good luck. You know that I still want that book and anything else you can crank out, but I'm glad to hear you're doing so well."
"I haven't forgotten the deadline, Pax. I will get it to you."
"Aren't we past that deadline?"
"I thought it was February 1."
Mackenzie could hear papers rustling.
"You're right. I had a spot open up and wanted to putShibbolethin it, but if you don't have it done, you don't have it done."
"I'll tell you what," Mackenzie said, reaching for paper and a pen, "I'll call you in a month and tell you where I am."
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"That's fine. And Mackenzie, I mean what I said. Even if you never write another word, I'm happy for you. IronHorse wouldn't thank me for saying that, but they weren't the ones that saw your sad face and how alone you were."
"Oh, Paxton." Mackenzie was overjoyed. "I can't tell you what that means. I don't know if the future holds any more books, but you've been a good friend, and I thank you."
"Take care, Mackenzie."
"I will. Tell Jodi I said hi and hug that baby for me."
Mackenzie hung up, so glad that Roz had stayed.
"He was the man who launched Mac Walker's career," she explained.
"Your editor?"
"Yeah. We met a long time ago. It took more than two years to write my first book, and then the man I was dating gave it to Paxton to read without his knowing I wrote it. He's taken everything since then."
"I've never read any of Mac Walker's books, but Adam and Devon have. They love 'em."
Mackenzie nodded in true modesty. Writing was not an effort for her; the words and stories just poured out.
"Do you know that I can see the hand of God on me even then, Roz? My books have nothing in them that I'm ashamed of. My father was a moral man, even before he was saved, and most of my heroes are patterned after him. Not even the violence is graphic. I could have three books on the market totaling millions of copies, all of which I'm ashamed of, and even the one I'm working on now could be something I would want to put into the fireplace, but I don't feel that way."
Roz smiled. She loved this woman like one of her own. Her growth and hunger for the Lord were wonderful to see.
"God is good, Micki. You'll be learning that for the rest of your life."
This news suited Mackenzie, who wanted nothing more right now. The women talked a little more business, settling on the day for weekly cleaning and how Roz was to be paid. When Roz left, Mackenzie took a good look around. Things were pretty bad. She didn't even have to get close to see the dust and dirt patterns on the carpet. Now that she was more aware, she felt that Monday could not come soon enough.
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Chicago
It was all Delancey could do not to skip through the airport. She didn't know why she had never thought of it before, but meeting Chet's plane was the most exciting thing she had done in a long time. She couldn't wait to see his face. Most of the time she didn't even know his schedule, but one night he'd had to call his boss from her apartment, and just his side of the conversation had given her enough to go on.
She arrived at Gate C-38 and stood way back in the shadows. Other people were milling around but came to attention when the light over the door flashed. Someone with the airline went to open it and make ready. Delancey could see that it had been a large plane: Many people disembarked. She knew she would have to be patient since he would be one of the last people off.
She almost stepped forward when the crowd thinned but then decided to hang back until the last minute. At last she saw him. Her face lit up as she moved forward, but she stopped before taking two steps. A petite brunette had gone up to him, and Delancey watched as Chet put an arm around her and kissed her. She turned slightly, and Delancey could see that she was very pregnant. She watched as Chet took the woman's face in his hands and tenderly kissed her twice more on the lips. Only then did she see the little girl at their feet. The child leapt for attention until Chet reached down and scooped her up. She was the image of Chet Dobson, but with her mother's dark hair.
Delancey was incapable of moving. As though someone had suddenly plunged her heart into the icy waters of the sea, she stood frozen as Chefs arm went around the woman and the three of them walked down the concourse. She had no idea how long she stood there. A child running from his mother darted into her legs, causing her to look down. She saw the hunter green wool pants set she had just bought, Chet in mind all the while.
As sure as she knew her name was Delancey Bishop, she knew that woman was his wife. So many things made perfect sense. Like blinds opening on a covered window, understanding flooded in like sunlight. Almost in automation, she began the walk back to the parking garage and her car. Her surprise had backfired. Not a tear was shed; however, her heart felt utterly
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cold to the man she had been ready to spend the rest of her life with. She left the airport but didn't go home, at least not for while. She suddenly had quite a bit of work to do.
It was almost bedtime one week later, but as soon as Chet's pager showed Delancey's number, he made an excuse to get out of the house. He hadn't been able to get her for a week and wanted nothing more than to talk to her. On the way to "buy milk," he tried to think if she had been upset with him at all but thought things were going fine.
"Hi." His voice was smooth when he heard hers.
"I need to see you, Chet."
"Okay. I've been trying to call."
"I need to see you," Delancey repeated, so cold inside was she that she didn't even need to tell herself to be strong.
"We have a date tomorrow night, don't we?"
"I need to see you now."
"I can't, Delancey."
"Now, Chet." Her voice became cold, and he became alarmed. She hadn't pulled any games lately, but that didn't mean she wouldn't.
"Okay. I'll come over."
"No, I'll meet you at Clancey's in an hour."
"Clancey's?" he questioned. They never went there.
"That's right. One hour."
"Okay." He sounded weary and impatient, but Delancey knew he would show up. She was there long ahead of him. The waiter, $20 richer and with strict instructions to leave them alone, was ready to keep an eye on the man joining her and to call the police if he acted at all threatening.
Delancey didn't smile or move when he approached the table, and Chet, knowing her look, sat opposite her in the dark corner booth and didn't try to touch her.
"What's so urgent?" he asked, knowing from experience that if he could keep control of the conversation, he could settle her down much sooner.
"I met your plane last week," Delancey said simply.
Chet paused but recovered quickly. "I didn't see you."
"No, you were too busy kissing a short brunette and hugging a little girl."
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It gave Delancey no end of pleasure to see him pale. If she could have acted out her fantasy, the waiter would be calling the police to haveherremoved for violence.
"Delancey, I-" but she let him get no further.
"Don't even try." Her voice was so calm it was frightening. "I know everything. Do you hear me, Chet?Everything.I know you're married to Kari Anne and have been for six years. I know you have a daughter named Jennifer who was four in September, and that your wife is scheduled to have a little boy in five weeks."
Chet licked his lips but still managed to speak. "If you only found out a week ago, how-"
"It's amazing what money can buy in this town. I told the man I wanted information fast, and I got it. I kept my phone unplugged unless I was calling him so you couldn't reach me. I know that you live in a beautiful home
on Shady Oak Drive and that your wife's family is loaded. I know that there is no airline in France and that you share the apartment we were in with another married pilot who likes girlfriends as much as you do."
"Delancey, it doesn't have to end like this."
Her smile was bitter and brief. "You're wrong, Chet, very wrong. It's over, and if you ever try to contact me again, I'll make a little visit to Kari Anne."
It was the worst thing she could have said. He knew it was over, but he wasn't about to let her go while she was still holding all the cards. He forced himself to sit back, his eyes going into the sexy droop that she loved.
"You won't go, Delancey. It's too good between us." His voice was low and inviting. "You'll pout for a few weeks, but then my pager will go off, and I'll see your number."
Delancey stopped her movements to leave.
"Have we ever talked about my black belt, Chet? No? How silly of me to have forgotten. I hope you do come by. I'll be sure to invite you in. But be prepared to hit the floor fast. I'll take great satisfaction in breaking your spine in three places. Even if you do live to tell about it, I'll know that you'll never fly another plane, and you'll never lie to your wife or anyone else again." She picked up her purse. "You think I won't go? Watch me."
Delancey moved from the booth and headed directly to the waiter she had spoken with earlier, another bill and a piece of paper in her hand.
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"I just broke up with my boyfriend. These are our names, my address, and the plate numbers on our cars. If he follows me inside of ten minutes, call the police and tell them you suspect a possible attack."
"Of course, madam. Anything else?"
"No. Thank you."
Delancey was fine all the way home, her cynical thoughts keeping her company. Indeed, it had been easier than she thought. Why, she hadn't even kept him that long. He would still have time to pick up ice or whatever lame excuse he had given his poor wife.
Delancey's buoyant mood lasted until she had all the shades pulled, the door secured, and the phone unplugged again. It lasted right up to the moment she went to the bathroom and was violently sick. It took a moment for her to realize that she was sobbing, and when she did, one person came to mind. She nearly fell across the bed and dialed the number.
"Hello," Mackenzie said as she picked up the phone.
"Micki," Delancey whispered.
"Delancey?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"Hi." Mackenzie told herself to stay calm. "Are you all right?"
"I need you, Mic." She said the words so softly.
"What's that?"
"I need you."
"I'll come." Mackenzie needed nothing more, her voice turning to business. "I'll get on a plane as soon as I can."
"Thank you."
"Will you be picking me up, Delancey?"
"I don't want to leave the apartment, Mic. I can't."
"All right. Are you hurt? Should you call your landlady?"
"No. I just need you."
"I'm on my way. I'll call you from the plane and tell you exactly when I'll be there."
"All right."
"Hold on, Delancey. I'm coming."
Delancey couldn't say any more, but Mackenzie didn't need her to. In less than half an hour she had booked a flight and was on her way to the Cummings'. Roz was surprised but glad for her. She left the housekey with her and said she would call. Roz
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and Adam promised their prayers and stopped to pray for her the moment she left.
Iwant to beg You for mercy, Father,Mackenzie prayed as she belted herself into her seat on the plane.Iwant to beg You to spare my sister, but I have no right. You know best. Whatever this is, You are in control. Thank You that she called me. Thank You that she knew I would still care. The last months have felt like a year. I love her, Father. I need my sister. I hope it's in Your plan that she be with me again. If not, Lord God, give me strength, because I'll surely need it.
Mackenzie made herself stop. There was no one next to her in the posh leather seat, but it was late in the day, and fatigue, along with the emotional outpouring of hearing from her sister and rushing to the airport in Reno, was suddenly on her. The flight would take three-and-a-half hours, and she needed to be strong when she arrived. Just 20 minutes after takeoff, she was sound asleep, Delancey still lingering on the edge of her mind.
"Is that you, Mic?" Delancey called through the door after hearing the knock.
"Yes, I'm here."
Delancey opened the door, and Mackenzie had all she could do not to respond to her sister's appearance. She seemed to have dropped weight, and her eyes were red and swollen. They didn't touch, at least not at first. Wanting to be sensitive, Mackenzie tried to feel her way along. The women stood just inside the door and turned to each other. Delancey looked like a wounded animal, and Mackenzie had to physically restrain herself from hugging her.
"You came." Delancey stared at her.
"I wouldn't do anything else."
"Chets married," Delancey said softly. "He's been married for six years."
"Oh, Delancey, no!" Mackenzie quietly wailed.
"He has a little girl, and his wife is going to have a baby."
Mackenzie could hold back no longer. She grabbed her sister and held on with all her might. Delancey wrapped her arms around Mackenzie's back and sobbed. They sank to the floor in grief and pain, still holding each other and crying. Nothing in all
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of their lives hurt like this. Mackenzie felt as if she couldn't breathe, and Delancey wanted to die.
It was close to an hour before either one could utter a word, and by then it was only to agree to sleep. It was coming onto five o'clock in the morning when Delancey climbed into bed and Mackenzie took the sofa. Tired as she was, Mackenzie fell asleep praying for her sister and asking God to give her the words when they faced each other in the morning.
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Thirty-Eight
The Bishop women slept only until eight o'clock. Mackenzie was up first, took a quick shower, and started some coffee. Delancey also used the shower and then came to the kitchen table.
"Do you hate me?" she asked quietly.
"Why would I hate you?" Mackenzie said softly, turning from the counter.
"Because I wanted nothing to do with you until I needed something."
"I'll never hate you, Deej, not as long as I live, but I can't help you either, not the way you need to be helped. You can call me anytime, and I'll listen, but I can't make any lasting changes or help your pain very much."
Delancey looked at her. "I should have asked you this a long time ago, Mic, but what happened? What changed your mind?"
Mackenzie forgot the coffee and came to the table.
"I want to tell you, Delancey, but I don't want you to feel guilty."
"I already do."
"Why?"
"Because if you needed God, then I wasn't there for you. I wasn't a good sister."
Mackenzie had suspected as much but had never been given a chance to ask.
"You can't do that to yourself, Deej. Even if you had called or come to visit, the help would have been temporary. I needed permanent change, the kind Dad and Mom always talked about and I wanted nothing to do with."
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It was as though Delancey had finally caught on. "You believe it now, don't you? You believe what Mom and Dad did?"
"Yes. With all my heart."
Delancey could only stare. The change in Mackenzie was amazing. Even tired and her hair still dripping from the shower, the peace in her face was unmistakable. Mackenzie had grown very hard. Delancey hadn't realized how much. The change in her enabled Delancey to see things clearly. For an instant Delancey had hope, and then she remembered where she had been.
"I'm glad for you, Mic," she said sincerely. "I'm glad that you didn't go where I have and that you have peace now."
"But you don't believe you can."
Delancey shook her head no. "I kn
ew better, Mic. I told you that. I've always felt guilty. I think forgiveness can extend to sins of ignorance, but not to sins when people know full well what they're doing."
"That's not what we heard for all those years, Deej-just the opposite. If the death of Christ was just for some sins, then the whole thing is a lie. I've found out that there are no lies involved except the ones Satan tells me or I tell myself. Everything God says is true. I'm sorry I took so long to understand that, Delancey. If anyone is to blame for your hurt, it's me. You've been following me since you could walk, and I led you astray."
Tears had filled Mackenzie's eyes, and Delancey's own mouth trembled.
"I've been a big girl for a long time, Mic. I have no one to blame but myself."
"I'm sorry he hurt you, Deej. I'm so sorry."
"I was ready to spend my life with him, Mic." Tears streamed down her face. "I was ready for us to settle down, have babies, and grow old together, but he belongs to someone else. I feel so awful, Mic. I was with her man. I feel just sick about that. I would love to tell her how sorry I am, but I don't want anything else to do with Chet. Everything he ever said to me was a lie, and the whole thing has made me feel so cheap and used."
Mackenzie went to her and put her arms around her. She asked God to work a miracle in her life, because that's what it was going to take. She knew she couldn't stay forever. Her trip home would come in two weeks, and after that, Delancey would be open and vulnerable to anything.
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Mackenzie heard the direction of her thoughts and reminded herself that she was not God. He had to do the work, and He was the one who could protect and take care of Delancey-no one else.
"I have something I want to say to you, Deej, but before I do, you need to understand that I'll always love you. My love is not conditional on your agreeing with me."
"You want me to become a Christian."
"Yes, I do, but I have a lot of things I want you to think about first. I'm new at this, but I keep thinking of things I read in the Bible and things Roz, Adam, and Pastor Gary have said."
"Have you told me about them?"
"Roz is the woman whose Bible study I went to that first day, and Gary leads the study. Adam is Roz's husband."