River's Edge

  Blair couldn’t believe the gall of the woman. Sheila turned back to Carson. “Look, I’ll see you later, okay? Feel free to call anytime. I could use the diversion.”

  Carson chuckled. “Maybe I will. We can finish your reading.”

  Blair’s chin shot up at the man. “Where’s your wife, Carson?”

  He stiffened slightly. “She’s here, over with the crowd. I haven’t done anything wrong, Blair. By the way, I saw you and Cade at my show the other night. Hope you enjoyed it.”

  Sheila breathed a laugh then, as if he’d just knocked Blair down, and started to walk away. Blair launched out after her and stopped her before she reached the sand. “What is wrong with you?”

  Sheila swung around. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you have a lot of nerve doing this after Morgan has been taking care of your children for the last year. You’re throwing her kindness back in her face. You had no place else to go and you know it. If you had gone back to Atlanta, you would have gone right into the arms of some other man who would get you back hooked on drugs and abuse you in every possible way. And if history repeats itself, he might also abuse your children. But instead, you get to come here to a place that’s practically paradise on earth and live in a house that you would never have even dreamed of living in before, where your child is getting an education and your baby has been cared for and loved. All you have to do is abide by certain rules of their program, which are designed for your good. But you can’t even do that!”

  “I have a life, okay? I’m not some Hanover House robot. I get to think of myself sometimes.”

  “Isn’t that what got you put in jail? Isn’t that what almost got your daughter killed? Maybe it’s time you started thinking of your children for a change and doing what’s right for them.”

  “How is my drinking an occasional beer and smoking a cigarette wrong for my children? It has nothing to do with them.”

  “It has everything to do with them,” Blair said, “because if Morgan and Jonathan throw you out of the home, it’s not just you who’s going to lose out. It’s your children.”

  Sheila grit her teeth. “If I leave Hanover House, my children are going with me.”

  Blair threw up her hands. “That’s what I’m talking about. There’s no way on earth you could think that was best for them, not by any stretch of the imagination. They’re going to lose, and you’re going to lose, too. Why can’t you be grateful for all Morgan and Jonathan have done for you and just abide by a few little easy rules?”

  Sheila took a step closer, her face inches from Blair’s. “I don’t have to take this stuff from you. I’m not your inferior. You’re not better than me just because you came from that family.”

  “I know I’m not better than you. Just a couple of months ago I was a lot like you—a sham who considered myself wise. I was stupid enough to believe the world’s lies. I didn’t want to be accountable to God, but you know what? I was anyway. And so are you. If you could stop being stupid, you might actually make something of your life!”

  Sheila just stared at her as if Blair had struck her in the face. Blair tried to take a deep breath. It wasn’t exactly the way Morgan would have shared her faith, but it was the best Blair could do.

  “You know—” she tried to calm her voice—“by all rights, you should have been in jail for four more years. The fact that you got out early was a gift from God. Look at your life, Sheila!”

  “Mom!”

  Blair turned and saw Sadie coming toward them. Sheila’s expression changed and she started toward her daughter. “Hey, I was just on my way back.”

  Sadie was clearly upset. “Where were you?”

  “I was looking for a bathroom.”

  “There’s one on the Pier. All you had to do was ask me.”

  “Next time I’ll know.”

  Sheila shot Blair a look that told her to keep her mouth shut, and started walking back to the crowd. Sadie exchanged looks with Blair. She clearly knew something unpleasant had occurred, but she just followed her mother back to the group.

  Blair stood there a moment, wondering why she felt like a faithless hypocrite. Here she was, holding up Sheila’s shortcomings like a mirror, forcing her to look into it. But she didn’t want to look at her own.

  The shame that someone like Carson Graham had seduced her with his uninvited reading and caused her to dwell on it, hope for it, even plan for it, sickened her. Wasn’t she stronger in her faith than Sheila? Didn’t she, indeed, know better?

  She saw Jonathan greeting people at his table. Blair swallowed and followed Sadie and Sheila to his tent. When Sheila marched in and took Caleb out of Morgan’s arms, Jonathan excused himself. She started away, but he grabbed her arm. “Sheila, have you been drinking?” he asked quietly.

  “Of course not. Where would I get alcohol?”

  “I don’t know, but you smell like beer and cigarettes.”

  “What is wrong with you people?” Sheila said. “Even if I did, I’m not going to hell just because I smoke a cigarette and drink a beer!”

  “Of course not,” Jonathan said. “Beer and cigarettes are not what keep you out of heaven, but they are things that will keep you out of Hanover House.”

  “Fine,” Sheila spouted back. “Just let me know when you want me to leave, and I’ll pack my bags.”

  She stormed off, Caleb on her hip.

  Morgan looked helplessly at Jonathan.

  “Is she a piece of work or what?” Blair muttered.

  “Did you see where she was?” Morgan asked.

  “Oh, yeah. She was in Carson Graham’s van, sipping on one of his beers.”

  “That’s it.” Jonathan’s voice brooked no debate. “She’s out.”

  A look of stark-raving fear came over Morgan’s face. “No, Jonathan! We can’t throw her out.”

  “Either she abides by the rules or she doesn’t. Look at Karen and Felitia and Gus. They’re following the rules. What if they see Sheila breaking them and getting away with it?”

  She had told herself the same thing, but when it came right down to it, she couldn’t risk losing Caleb. “Sheila’s different,” she whispered harshly. “She’s Caleb and Sadie’s mother.”

  Jonathan just stared down at her. “Morgan, you can’t possibly think that we should back down.”

  “We didn’t throw Sadie out when she broke the rules.”

  “That was different. Sadie was our foster daughter. She was just a kid trying to grow up. Sheila is not a kid. She supposedly wants to change her life, but if I don’t see any commitment from her, I am not willing to give her a free ride.”

  He went back to his constituents, forcing himself to look cordial.

  Morgan turned away and looked at Blair. “What am I going to do?”

  “I don’t know, but I had a little talk with her. Maybe some of what I said will penetrate.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  Blair looked back at Sheila and saw that she was whispering through her teeth to Sadie. There was anger on her face, and she knew that her words hadn’t made a difference. Why should they, when she was no better than Sheila?

  “Well, I sort of witnessed to her. In my own way.”

  “You did?” Morgan asked hopefully. “Good, Blair. Maybe coming from you, she’ll listen.”

  “Yeah, well, my methods leave a little to be desired, I think, and I haven’t exactly painted myself as the shining role model.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.” Blair hoped it hadn’t done further damage.

  Karen approached Morgan from the crowd. “Morgan, Gus is gonna take me and Emory home. It’s getting too hot out here, and it’s time for Emory to go down for his nap.”

  Morgan nodded. “Would you see if Sheila wants to go with you and take Caleb? He’s looking a little peaked himself. You can take our car and we’ll get a ride.”

  “Sure.”

  They watched Karen approach Sheila. Sheila looked th
eir way, squinting in the sun. She nodded as if she was anxious to get away from this place.

  “Are you okay, Morgan?” Blair asked.

  Morgan sighed. “I’ve got to be. Jonathan needs me.”

  CHAPTER 63

  Blair found Sadie sitting at the end of the Pier, staring down into the water. She sat down next to her. “Want to talk about it?”

  Sadie had been crying, but she tried to hide it. “I don’t know why she’s being like this. I’m afraid she’s going to leave—or get thrown out.”

  Blair thought about Jonathan’s decision to throw Sheila out but decided not to mention it. Maybe Morgan would talk him out of it. “She’s just adjusting.”

  “She needs Jesus,” Sadie whispered. “He’s all that’s really going to change her life.”

  Blair looked out across the ocean. Three sailboats drifted on the horizon, and toward the west she saw a schooner and a speedboat crossing paths. “It can happen,” Blair said. “I’m a living example. I found myself at my lowest point of desperation, panic-stricken, with nowhere to turn, feeling like my life was totally out of my control. That was when I looked to Christ. That was when he saved me.”

  Sadie nodded. “Me too. My mother’s been like that for a long time. Her life has been out of her control and she’s been at her lowest point. She says she’s a Christian, but I don’t really think she gets it. I saw her at that psychic’s van. She’d rather get her palm read than pray.”

  Blair’s throat was dry. She swallowed hard. There it was again—that shame. She didn’t know why. Sadie knew she’d gone to interview Carson Graham—but she didn’t know that she’d paid him any heed. She would be so disappointed if she knew.

  Blair was disappointed with herself.

  The warm wind blew through Sadie’s hair as she studied Blair for a moment. “What was it that worked for you, Blair?”

  “People were praying for me,” Blair said. “Lots of people who loved me were praying hard. Those prayers were heard, Sadie. If you pray for your mom, God’s going to hear.”

  “But will he answer?” Sadie asked.

  Blair picked up a piece of hot dog bun someone had dropped next to her on the Pier and tossed it into the ocean. “I don’t know the Bible as well as my sister and my parents did, but I was raised on it just like Morgan was. I didn’t always heed it, but I did hear it. I always heard that the Lord answers prayers that glorify him and are according to his will. If you pray for your mother to know Christ, God’s going to answer that prayer. It’s not his will for any to perish. So why wouldn’t he answer that?”

  “I hope that’s true,” Sadie said. “What a family we could have if Mom believed and lived for Jesus. I wouldn’t have to worry about her so much, and I wouldn’t have to worry about Caleb. She would always want to do the right thing for him, even if it meant staying at Hanover House with Morgan and Jonathan.”

  A strong gust of wind blew the hair back from their faces. Blair saw a dark cloud moving in from the horizon.

  “Looks like it’s going to storm, after all,” Sadie whispered.

  Blair gave the girl a hug. “We’ve survived storms before, haven’t we?”

  Sadie got up and looked back toward the crowd. Tears still ran down her face. “Can you do without me, Blair? I really need to get back home to keep an eye on Caleb and my mom.”

  “Sure, go ahead. I can take it from here.”

  She watched Sadie head back up the Pier. The girl was clueless about who she had asked for spiritual advice.

  Blair turned back to the water and thought of the way Carson’s predictions had gripped and manipulated her mind, the greed and ambition and discontent they had fostered in her. Suddenly it was clear to her—none of that had been from God. They were sinful pipe dreams that, if pursued, might destroy all the blessings she had.

  Her flesh was still so weak. She loved Jesus and had given her life to him, but avoiding sin was still harder than she thought.

  She started to cry as the sky grew grayer and the wind whipped harder against her face.

  “You okay, Sis?”

  Blair hadn’t heard her sister coming. Quickly, she wiped her face and looked back. “Yeah. You?”

  “Not really.” Morgan had been crying too, and her nose was red. She set one foot on the bottom rail and leaned on the top one.

  Blair sighed, put her arms around Morgan’s neck, and laid her head on her shoulder.

  “We’re some pair,” Morgan whispered. “You’re not crying over the Sheila thing too, are you?”

  Blair let her go. “No, that’s not it. But it’s going to be all right. You’ll talk Jonathan out of throwing her out.”

  “How, when I know perfectly well that she should be thrown out?”

  “Maybe this was a wake-up call for her. Maybe it’s just what she needed to straighten up.”

  Morgan didn’t answer. The wind kicked up her long brown curls, and she pushed them back from her face. “So if you weren’t crying about Sheila, then what’s wrong?”

  Blair pulled herself up and sat on the rail, her back to the ocean. “I’m crying because I don’t understand why I’m such a weak Christian.”

  “What? You’re not weak.”

  “Oh, yes, I am. I’m horribly weak.” She looked toward the crowd still milling around on the beach. Anabelle’s clogging class had taken the stage in their red and white checkered dresses. “Morgan, the other day when I went to interview Carson Graham, he made some predictions.”

  “What kind of predictions?”

  “About my business and my relationship with Cade. He told me that I was going to expand my business to a statewide paper, and that Cade and I would get married soon. Ever since, I’ve been thinking of increasing my staff—not just by two or three people—but by dozens. Buying property, new equipment, going from twice a week to every day…”

  Morgan looked at her like she was crazy. “Blair, you know you’re not ready for that. Buying the paper in the first place was a huge step, and it’s only been a few weeks.”

  “I know, you’re absolutely right. But I’ve been thinking about it anyway…wanting it. Trying to figure a way to make it work. My ambitions have become greedy and unrealistic, just because of him. When I was a librarian, I never had these kinds of ambitions. I just loved my work. If they hadn’t practically fired me, I’d still be perfectly content stacking books and doing research.”

  “They didn’t fire you. You quit.”

  “Only because they were unhappy with my work.” She slid down from the rail and turned around, looking out at the water. “But that’s beside the point. What is wrong with me, listening to that guy? He also told me that Cade and I would get married, and now I’ve been picturing myself walking down the aisle, impatient about our relationship…I keep thinking about when he’s going to propose, like it’s some kind of destiny and he’s just not getting with the program. For all I know, he may not feel that way about me. We haven’t made any commitments or even talked about our feelings.”

  “Blair, you’ve only been dating for a little over a month. It’s not time. There are steps you have to go through. You can’t just jump straight to the wedding. This kind of thing can’t be short-circuited—not unless you’re both ready.”

  “Exactly,” Blair said. “And rushing things is not Cade’s style, and it’s not mine, either. Instead of shopping for wedding gowns I need to just enjoy the way things are developing now. But these ambitions—these crazy hopes and dreams—are making me crazy. If it weren’t for Carson, I never would have been thinking this way—and that’s why I’m so upset. How is it that he affected me that way?”

  “Well, it probably has something to do with your listening to him in the first place. The Bible says somewhere that the pagans listen to those who practice witchcraft and to diviners, but you—meaning believers—are not allowed to.”

  “It’s Deuteronomy 18,” Blair said. “I read it. Didn’t sink in, though, apparently. And the really sick thing is that I caught Shei
la getting a reading, and I acted all shocked and judgmental, and then Carson made it sound like he had read my palm too. Boy, did that make her smug.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah. Only, for the record, he did not read my palm. I didn’t ask for his predictions and didn’t want them. But she thinks I went to him for that. And as much as he affected me, I might as well have.” Tears sprang to her eyes again. “I’m no better than her, and she knows it. Morgan, I’m so sorry.”

  Morgan shook her head and pushed Blair’s hair out of her eyes. “Sheila has a lot of problems. You’re not the cause of them, Blair.”

  “It’s just that I hate myself for falling for it.” She swallowed back the tears in her throat, and looked at her sister. “Morgan, do you remember when we were little, and Mama would wake us up and walk us through ‘putting on’ our helmet of salvation, our belt of truth…”

  Morgan nodded. “Our breastplate of righteousness, and our shoes of peace.”

  Blair smiled. “When we headed out the door to school, she would hand us our shields of faith and our swords of the spirit, like she expected us to run into some angry fallen angels on the way to the bus.”

  Morgan laughed. “And you would use that imaginary sword to stab me and throw your invisible shield like a Frisbee.”

  “I’d forgotten that.” She laughed softly, but then her amusement faded. “Guess I never took it all that seriously, but it never made sense to me. I might as well have been putting on an imaginary crown and fairy wings. But now I see that I need that armor. Our struggle is not against flesh and blood. It’s against the rulers and principalities. Apparently even against the psychics.”

  “That’s right,” Morgan said. “Mama knew what she was talking about.”

  “But I still don’t understand how you get it. The only armor I have lying around is the imaginary kind. No pretend armor is going to stop the enemy’s arrows. It certainly didn’t help me against Carson.”

  Morgan looked surprised that she would ask such a thing. “Sis, you do have the armor. But maybe it’s just weak. Look at it piece by piece. The helmet of salvation—you got that the minute you gave your life to Christ. You don’t have to pretend to put some imaginary steel cap on your head in the mornings. It’s already there.”