I knew just how she felt.
Fatimah and Callie Mae each took one of my hands as Trent and his lawyer rose to hear the jury’s verdict.
He was sentenced to twenty years for second-degree murder. As the deputy sheriff handcuffed him, he turned and glared at me in accusation. In defiance, I stared back, unblinking. There’s enough blame assigned to me from my own actions. I refused to accept his, too.
As he was led away, I felt my heart both break and begin to mend. I was finally able to look ahead at our new reality, our wide-open future full of possibility and promise.
Fatimah pulled me against her, hugging me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I am so proud of you, Peeny. I did not think you would speak the truth, but you have. It is the bravest moment I witness for any woman. Your mother will be proud of you.”
I knew she was right. My mother would be proud. I called her after the trial to tell her the outcome. Again, she asked me to come home. “This is home now,” I said, “but when Daddy’s finally ready to retire, maybe you two could do it here. I want Manny to know his grandparents.”
“Now there’s an idea,” Mama said. “I couldn’t get him off the farm, but that grandbaby just might. You would think that child walks on water by the way he talks about him.”
My eyes still well because my father’s love for you registers in my heart as love for me.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
I glanced over at Callie Mae, blowing raspberries on your belly, and laughed. “Better than okay, Mama.”
FORTY-TWO
IT’S AFTERNOON, and I’m returning to Callie Mae’s house to pack our belongings. She has been more than kind to let the two of us live with her for the past few months while we waited for the trial to take place, but it’s time for us to go home now.
“You sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?” she asks, bouncing you gently through the air.
“I’ve never stood on my own, Callie. I need to learn how.”
“How will you get by?”
“With a little help from my friends,” I say jokingly, but it’s the truth. I need the community I’ve begun to build around myself. Callie Mae, Fatimah, Edgard, my new church family at Sheckle Baptist, and the Alanon support group that meets on Monday nights. I don’t think, when God said it’s not good for man to be alone, Manny, he just meant that we need a mate. I had a mate and was never more alone in my life. But I’m not lonely anymore, and I make a vow to never isolate myself again.
“You should turn that into a song,” Callie Mae says. “You could make a lot of money.”
I smile as she rubs noses with you. Squealing, you reach up and grab a hunk of her hair. With a grimace, she pries your hand loose, then gives you another Eskimo kiss. She lays you flat on the bed, lifts up your shirt and blows a raspberry on your tummy. Your arms and legs flail at the stimulation and you squeal again.
“I see you got another letter from Trent,” she says, motioning with a nod of her head toward the opened envelope lying on the dresser.
“It’s not just a letter this time. It’s divorce papers.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Let me get this straight. He’s divorcing you?”
It’s a twist I didn’t see coming either, but it is the out I’ve been praying for. No matter how logical Callie Mae’s arguments sounded, I still couldn’t find a way to divorce my husband and reconcile it with God’s Word. “Apparently he’s been corresponding with a pen pal and they’re ‘in love.’” The absurdity of it almost makes me laugh.
Callie Mae squints at me for a moment, then says sarcastically, “Lucky girl.”
“I never thought I’d be divorced,” I say, cringing at the word.
Callie Mae tries to look sad, but I know better. I try to look sad too, but I’m not.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asks.
I pick up the glass of iced tea I had set on the dresser and take a sip. Like this moment, it is both bitter and sweet. “I’m not sure. It’s like there’s this menu in front of me with way too many choices.”
She tilts her head and smiles. “It’s exciting, don’t you think?”
I put the glass down and open another drawer. She’s right—it is exciting. Exciting and scary at the same time. I can do this, I tell myself. Your name, Emmanuel, reminds me that I won’t have to do it alone. “You think I’m college material?” I ask, hopeful as I pick up a stack of onesies.
Her eyes move off you, onto me, and settle there a moment. “Penny, I think you’re capable of moving whichever mountains you choose.”
I think I might want to be a florist, but I don’t say so. Not yet. I have more thinking and praying to do. The next time I roll the dice, I want to be as sure as I can be that the prize is worth the gamble.
Anxiety fills me on the drive. I wonder if it will still feel like home, now that your father is gone. I pull up to where our little tar-papered house should be, but it isn’t there. In its place stands a charming little cream-colored stucco home with white trim and matching flower boxes dripping with blooms.
All the odd little questions Callie Mae and Fatimah have asked me over the past weeks finally make sense. It’s a good thing I actually gave some thought to my answers, or I might have ended up with purple siding. Fatimah’s LeBaron is already in the freshly paved driveway, and Callie Mae, who has followed me over, parks along the curb. As I unstrap you from your car seat, you look up at me with those Tweety Bird eyes of yours, and as it does every time I look at you, my heart overflows with gratitude.
“We’re home, Manny,” I say. Your arms flutter happily.
I hold you facing outward so you can see.
“It is beautiful, true?” Fatimah calls from an open window. All I can see is the white of her smile.
“True!” I call back. I stop to show you the magnolia tree in the front yard that wasn’t there the last time we were here. Its huge white blooms are almost the size of your head. You grab hold of a leaf and try to stuff it in your mouth. I kiss your soft cheek as I pry it from your hand.
“Do you like the tree? You said magnolias were your favorite,” Callie Mae asks from behind me.
I turn and try to thank her, but the boulder in my throat won’t allow me to speak. I feel guilty for the gift. She’s already done so much for us.
Callie Mae must have read my mind because she says, “It’s the least I could do after all you’ve given me.”
Her words confuse me. “I haven’t given you anything except a lot of trouble.”
Sunlight makes her blonde hair look like spun gold, and the fine lines she always refers to finally become apparent in the harsh light. But to me, she’s never looked more beautiful. “You gave me the grandson Sara couldn’t. You give me friendship. You give me hope.”
“I don’t deserve this,” I say.
“You’ve been given a lot in this life you haven’t deserved, Penny.” At first I think she’s speaking of Trent, but as I kiss the top of your head, I realize it’s you.
I don’t know what to say, so I just hug her. It’s the best I have to offer.
Her smile tells me it is enough.
A Note from the Author
IF YOU know someone who is or has been in an abusive relationship but have never experienced it for yourself, you may wonder why someone would put up with it. The answer is often a mixture of fear, shame, love, and embarrassment—or not even realizing that abuse isn’t normal.
It is so difficult to watch family members and friends go through degrees of what Penny suffered in this novel. Many of the tactics Trent used are typical of abusers, and Penny’s justifications and faulty thinking are typical of an abuse victim. She lies to cover up her husband’s bad behavior, gets defensive when her friends confront her with the truth, and believes him time and again when he says things will be different next time. Like many victims of abuse, Penny wanted to believe that her husband would change because she loved him. In their own way, I believe abusers often want to change. But
wanting to change and changing are two different things.
The hardest lesson I’ve ever had to learn is that it isn’t my job to change anyone but myself. Once I really began to understand that, everything else started to fall into place. I began educating myself about boundaries, codependency, and what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. We have a tendency to think only abusers need help, but victims of abuse need help just as much.
If you or someone you care about faces a situation similar to the one depicted in this novel, please consider some of the following resources for more information about how to get help.
National Domestic Violence Hotline
1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
TTY 1-800-787-3224
www.thehotline.org
Boundaries: When to Say Yes, When to Say No, to Take Control of Your Life—Henry Cloud & John Townsend
Boundaries define who we are and who we are not. They impact all areas of our lives: Physical boundaries help us determine who may touch us and under what circumstances. Mental boundaries give us the freedom to have our own thoughts and opinions. Emotional boundaries help us deal with our own emotions and disengage from the harmful, manipulative emotions of others. Spiritual boundaries help us distinguish God’s will from our own and give us renewed awe for our Creator. Having clear boundaries is essential to a healthy, balanced lifestyle. Questions addressed in this book include the following:
Aren’t boundaries selfish?
Can I set limits and still be a loving person?
Why do I feel guilty or afraid when I consider setting boundaries?
What are legitimate boundaries?
What if someone is upset or hurt by my boundaries?
The Verbally Abusive Relationship: How to Recognize It and How to Respond—Patricia Evans
In this bestselling classic, you’ll learn how to recognize verbal abuse, respond to abusers safely and appropriately, and most important, lead a happier, healthier life. Drawing from hundreds of real situations suffered by real people, Evans offers strategies, sample scripts, and action plans designed to help you deal with the abuse—and the abuser.
Safe People: How to Find Relationships That Are Good for You and Avoid Those That Aren’t—Henry Cloud & John Townsend
Many people invest themselves in people who shipwreck their lives in return. If you’re one who has chosen the wrong people to get involved with or makes the same mistakes about relationships over and over again, then this book offers you a remedy. Safe People gives you solid guidance that will help you
Correct things within yourself that jeopardize your relational security
Learn the twenty traits of “unsafe” people
Recognize what makes people trustworthy
Avoid unhealthy relationships
Form positive relationships
Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself—Melody Beattie
Recovery has begun for millions of individuals with this straightforward guide. Through personal examples and exercises, the author shows how controlling others forces you to lose sight of your own needs and happiness.
About the Author
BESTSELLING AUTHOR Gina Holmes is the founder of the influential literary site Novel Rocket, regularly named one of Writers Digest’s best sites for writers. Her debut novel, Crossing Oceans, was a Christy and Christian Book Award finalist and winner of the Carol, INSPY, and RWA’s Inspirational Reader’s Choice Contest awards, as well as a CBA, ECPA, Amazon and Publishers Weekly Religion bestseller. She is also the author of Dry As Rain, a Christy Award finalist, and Wings of Glass. Gina holds degrees in science and nursing and currently resides with her family in southern Virginia. She works too hard, laughs too loud, and longs to see others heal from their past and discover their God-given purpose. To learn more about her, visit www.ginaholmes.com.
Discussion Questions
Penny gets angry and defensive when her friends try to confront her with the truth about Trent’s behavior. Have you ever reacted that way when someone tried to tell you something you didn’t want to hear? How can we learn to be open to friends who try to “speak the truth in love” to us?
Trent repeatedly says—and occasionally shows—that he wants to change. Was Penny right to believe him? Did you believe him? What more could he have done if he was sincere about wanting to become a different (healthier) person? What do you think the future holds for Trent?
Callie Mae, a loving and godly woman, struggles with the habit of smoking. And she accuses the woman who confronts her about it of gluttony. What are some other habits or lifestyle choices we sometimes develop that are bad for our health—and may compromise our ability to reflect Christ to others? What are some ways we might work on overcoming them?
There are a few times when Penny actually seems to want Trent to hurt her. “I think I wanted him to beat me then. Feeling the physical pain was so much better than the anguish eating me up inside” (ch. 20). And “I realized then I was trying to provoke him, but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because deep down I thought I deserved to be beaten. Maybe I enjoyed being the martyr. Or I was just addicted to the making up that was sure to follow” (ch. 35). What could make a woman feel that way? What are some ways she could get help for whatever it is that’s causing those feelings? What are some other self-destructive patterns you see in your life or the life of someone you love?
Fatimah and Callie both tell Penny that if she wants things to change, she herself must change. Do you agree with that statement? Why is making changes in our own lives and behavior often so difficult? What holds you back from making a positive change in your circumstances?
Callie Mae tells Penny, “You’re addicted to an abusive man.” Do you agree with Callie’s assessment? Why or why not? What are some other things—besides alcohol or drugs—that a person can develop an unhealthy dependence on? What does it take to break the cycle?
For a long time, Penny says she doesn’t want to leave Trent because being with him is better than being alone. Why are familiar, though unpleasant, circumstances often more attractive than the unfamiliar and the unknown? What relationships or circumstances are you clinging to, just because they’re familiar, when you might be better off without them?
Callie Mae helps Penny reframe her situation by asking, “If you had a daughter, and she came to you and told you her husband was treating her the way Trent is treating you, would your advice be to stay with him?” (ch. 23). Why is it sometimes easier to see what’s going on in a situation involving someone else than in our own situation? What’s going on in your life right now that might benefit from some reframing? Who has God placed in your life who can help you do that?
Pastor Harold asks Penny, “Why isn’t grace enough?” and Penny herself wonders why it isn’t. How would you answer that question for Penny? Is God’s grace alone sufficient for all life’s challenges, or does God’s grace sometimes require a response or action from us? And if it does sometimes require a response, how can we tell if a given situation is one of those times?
Callie tells Penny that God will not manipulate someone into doing something the person doesn’t want to do, even if other people are begging for his intervention. Have you ever pleaded with God to change a loved one? What was the outcome? Why do you think God allows people to have free will even when it means other people might get hurt?
With the support of a friend and her pastor, Penny stages an intervention with Trent. Do you think that was a good idea? Why or why not? What might Penny have done differently that could have led to a better outcome? Have you ever tried to confront a loved one about a serious problem in this way? How did—or would—you go about it?
Chapter One
NOTHING DEEPENS a stream like a good rain . . . or makes it harder to cross.
Just a few hundred feet away from the home I’d sworn never to return to, I sat on the smooth surface of a boulder. With my jeans cuffed and toes wiggling in the cold water, I reflected on how re
cent rains had caused these banks to widen and swell.
Perhaps a decent relationship with my father might also rise as a result of the storm we’d endured. Much could happen in six years. Maybe my absence had, as the adage promised, made his heart grow fonder. Maybe my homecoming would be like that of the Prodigal and he’d greet me with eager arms. Together we’d cry for all that had passed between us—and all that should have but didn’t.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
It’s going to go just fine, I told myself as I traced the slippery surface of a moss-covered branch with my foot.
“What’s funny, Mommy?”
Isabella’s voice startled me. I didn’t dare admit that what my five-year-old interpreted as mirth was really a grimace, because then of course she’d want to know what was the matter. “Nothing, sweetness.”
She threw a pebble at the water, but it dropped inches from its goal, clinking against slate instead. “You were smiling like this—” She bared her teeth in a forced grin.
Gently, I pinched her cheek.
“You’re beautiful, Mommy.”
“Thank you, baby. So are you.”
“Yes, I am.”
I smiled at that. I smiled at just about everything she said and did.
“Mommy, why’d we drive here ’stead of Cowpa’s house?”
Cowpa was her name for grandparents of either gender. I probably should have corrected her long ago, but I found the odd term endearing. Besides, I reasoned, she’d grow out of baby talk all too soon without any help from me. I found myself wondering what other lessons she would learn in my absence.