Desert Gift (19 page)

“No.” Not that she’d heard of, anyway. Maybe he did though.

“Connor sure liked his grandpops’s car.”

“Connor? Connor saw it?” Jill saw a look pass between her parents. “When was that?”

“This past week.” Skip reached across the table and patted her hand. “I was getting around to that bit of news, darlin’. He and Emma spent a few days here before they went over to Hollywood yesterday to surprise you.”

Daisy said, “Naturally, since you and Jack didn’t see fit to tell any of us, we didn’t know a thing about you two and neither did Connor, so we all just had a gay old time. That Emma is a beauty, isn’t she? Kind of hard to understand sometimes with her accent, but she’s real personable.”

“I have no idea. I spent less than thirty minutes with her.”

“Well, one thing at a time, I guess, and you got your hands full with this other business. Viv had her turn at it. Now you got yours. Like we told Viv, you stay as long as you need to. Kind of funny how you both skedaddled out of Sweetwater and then had to come crawling back to sort out your problems. Guess your pops and I did something right, huh?”

Viv had stayed with them? Curious she hadn’t mentioned that to Jill. It must have been when Marty had an affair.

Daisy made a face. “You didn’t catch me going back home to your grandma Ellie’s.”

Skip chuckled. “That’s because there was no need. You married Mr. Perfect.”

Daisy hooted as she always did when he referred to himself as the ideal husband. Jill wondered if her mother truly appreciated that it was not an exaggeration. Her dad
was
Mr. Perfect, the role model for the guy Jill fell in love with.

Or so she thought until two and a half weeks ago.

How Skip put up with her mom was nothing short of miraculous. The woman must have been born thorny. Daisy and her own mother, Grandma Ellie, never got along. Like Jill and Viv skedaddling out of Sweetwater, Daisy had escaped her hometown of San Diego at first chance, which was soon after she met the boy from the desert.

Kind of like what happened when Jill met the boy from Chicago?

No. No way, nohow. Jill had enjoyed living and working with Viv at that time, yet always with an eye on Something Else, which came along when Jack entered the picture.

It was nowhere near similar to her mother’s situation.

* * *

A short while later, Jill walked with Viv out to her car and said more jokingly than she felt, “I’m rethinking this visit. Maybe it’s not such a great idea after all.”

“Mom’s just being herself.”

“I really didn’t expect any sympathy from her, but good grief. Would it kill her to say she’s sorry for me and Jack?”

“That’s what the pie was for, Jill.”

“I wonder if rehab groups take women who just need some time to pray and think and be
alone
.”

“That would be called a retreat center, and you can get that here. Mom and Dad will leave you alone. Give them a chance.”

“And eat the pie?”

Viv smiled. “Eat the pie.”

“You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you? Why didn’t you tell me you stayed with them?”

“I don’t know. It was just for a long weekend one time when I needed to get away.”

“And why didn’t you tell me that Marty had an affair, hon? I would have cried with you.”

Viv opened the car door, crossed her arms on its frame, and stared at Jill. She pursed her lips.

“It happens,” Jill said. “It happens a lot even in Christian marriages.”

“Jill, Marty did not have an affair.”

“But you said he had a reason to leave you and didn’t. What else besides another woman would give him a reason?”

Viv blew out a loud breath. “Me. I had the affair.”

Jill felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Vivian? Her sister had cheated on Marty?

Tears welled in Viv’s eyes. “I know; you can’t believe it. I was stupid. I turned forty and fell into this emotional cesspool. I kept asking, ‘Is this all there is?’ Lost in a trite, ‘poor me’ syndrome. Marty was just being Marty. All work and sports. He is the original husband in that old joke: ‘I told you I love you when we got married. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.’” She shook her head. “I’m not blaming him. I had the business, but it doesn’t make eye contact or give hugs.”

“Didn’t you tell him you were lonely?”

Viv’s jaw tightened and her eyes cleared. “I told him, Jill. It fell on deaf ears. So I told the CPA in the office next to mine. He heard.”

“Oh, Viv. Of course you needed someone to hear you. It’s understandable how things went from your vulnerability to his attention to . . . to . . .”

“To sex, Jill. It went all the way to there.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “Okay, enough. It’s over.”

Jill winced and quickly tried to smooth out the reaction on her face. Viv had actually slept with another man? The image horrified her. She understood the physical need, she knew it happened, but
Vivian
? Her sister had never been a prude and yet she was the most moral, upright person Jill had ever known.

Viv said, “The rest of the story is Marty came into the office one day for something. The CPA stopped in at the same time. After he left, Marty said, ‘End it.’ Just like that. I don’t know how he knew; he just did.”

“Have you . . . have you gone to counseling?”

“Yes. We’re in a good space now. Marty took it as a wake-up call. He pays attention to me and I don’t begrudge him his time with sports. It’s not like I need to be with him constantly, but he makes a point to keep eye contact and listen to me. It works.”

“Did the counselor take you through forgiveness? Without that—”

“We covered it all.”

“That’s wonderful. You’re walking it out now, the forgiveness in the day-to-day. Marty realized he could lose you if he didn’t change. He made the choice. And you didn’t give up on him when—”

“Stop it, Jill. Stop analyzing my marriage.”

“I don’t mean to—”

“This is why I couldn’t tell you. You’d figure everything out and give us all the answers. Worse yet, we’d end up being an example on your program. And then you started writing that book, putting everything in print. No. No way.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“Of course you would. Not by name, but you would reference us. We’re a textbook case. We’d fit into your rigid, black-and-white scheme perfectly. You just outlined the entire scenario in under sixty seconds.”

“What do you mean?” A sinking sensation filled her. When Agnes Smith had talked about the book, she accused Jill of having a black-and-white attitude. Now Viv echoed her words.

Viv sighed. “I have to go.”

“Tell me what you’re talking about!”

The hot noonday sun beat directly on them. They were both tired and needed a break from each other. Their voices were rising.

Still Jill pressed the issue. “You criticized my work. Agnes said the same thing. Yes, I’m judgmental and dogmatic. I think we are called to be better people, but I do not have a rigid, black-and-white scheme or attitude or anything. I know grays exist. I account for grays in everything I teach.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Viv, I said I understand why you cheated on Marty.”

“Because it fits into one of your
a
plus
b
equals
c
equations. Besides that, you’ve always considered him a horse’s patootie, beneath your standards, someone you would never, ever fall for. A tattooed welder isn’t even good enough to be your brother-in-law.”

“Vivian, how can you say that? I like Marty just fine. Twenty-five years ago I couldn’t figure out what you saw in him. He got into fistfights and he cussed like a sailor.”

“He
was
a sailor! And I was nuts about him because he was nuts about me. He made me feel like a special woman. I can’t believe I tried to throw it all away. But you know what? We both made mistakes, yes. But he fought for me. He fought to get me back. What I don’t understand is why Jack won’t do that for you. Why he sits in Chicago and ignores your calls. Talk about a horse’s patootie.” She slid quickly into the car. “I gave your phone to Pops.”

With that she started the engine, slammed the door shut, and sped off.

Jill’s heart raced.

Why didn’t Jack fight for her? Why was he just quitting on them?

The sun beat down on her. Its heat seeped into her bones, her lungs, her heart. It burned her skin and dried up whatever that place was that stored tears.

She had alienated Viv, the last in a long line of broken relationships. The real question was, why on earth would Jack bother fighting for her?

Chapter 24

Night fell and with it the temperature. Forty degrees in winter in Chicago would have felt balmy to Jill. Not so in the desert. Despite the afghan and heat from the gas fireplace, she shivered.

But maybe that had more to do with situation than climate.

After Viv’s abrupt good-bye, Jill unpacked, ate food she’d avoided for years, and tiptoed around Viv’s unsettling observation that set off a swirl of self-indictments.

Her father had sensed her unease. He told her to go sit in the backyard and be still, like she used to do as a kid. “Remember?” he said, his eyes full of tenderness. “You swore that God filled up your jaws with words.”

The memory startled her. She had buried it so deeply. At age twelve she had quit listening in that way because her mother ridiculed her nonstop.

Well, she wasn’t a kid anymore. She sat in a lawn chair in the middle of the dirt yard and waited. Desert hush enveloped her, a silence so thick it seemed a thing to be touched. She remembered how when she was a child, she heard God’s voice in the airy whispers that floated on the stillness.

Her attempt to recapture the experience had lasted about three minutes. She heard only pings against her eardrums, the echoes of a loud silence.

Now she kept her mother company in the living room and tried to stay warm. The television was tuned to one of Daisy’s favorite game shows; Jill was tuned again to Viv’s hard words.

“Jill.” A commercial came on, Daisy’s cue to speak. “You should talk on your show about how your dad makes love to his car. I bet he’s not the only old guy who does it.”

“Mom!”

“He even hugs the thing. And he’s out there in the garage day and night like some eager beaver with a hot chick.”

Jill rolled her eyes. “Cars have always been his passion. Just because he doesn’t have his service station doesn’t mean he’s suddenly going to take up golf.”

“You said Jack doesn’t have a red car?”

“Right. No, he doesn’t.”

“So what do you think? Does he have a girlfriend?”

“N-no.”

“You don’t know for sure though, do you? He must have a bevy of nurses eyeballing him day in and day out. He’s a good-looking man.”

An image of Jack’s staff flashed in her mind. There were several attractive nurses and office workers. Many more worked with him at the hospital. Female doctors too. But . . . those would not catch his eye. No, it would be Sophie, the one he spoke of like a friend. Jill understood too much of how things worked. It was in relationship, not physical attraction, that vows were broken.

Vows were broken.
Marriage vows that even Marty determined were to be kept. How could Jack have fallen so far from their roots?

Daisy said, “Your dad wasn’t all that innocent, you know.”

Jill had heard this one before. “Pops never so much as flirted.”

“’Course he did. You think he’s some kind of saint, but there were plenty of women he ogled. They’d come to the garage and show a little leg to get special attention. He used to pump the gas for them and give them deals on car repairs.”

“Mom, he treated everyone the same.” Jill had worked side by side with her dad from the time she could walk. If she wasn’t in school, she was at the station doing homework or changing spark plugs. “And besides, he worships the ground you walk on.”

Daisy’s crooked smile was an odd mix of humor and disgust. “Which is why I did not go out of my mind worrying over those no-good, flashy seducers. I kept him happy at home. Not like you and Viv out there running your own businesses. Good night! You two both signed up for trouble. Why do you think my dad ran off? Hm? Because my mother was too busy with business to give him the attention a man needs.”

That wasn’t exactly the way Jill’s grandma Ellie described it, but she was too tired to rehash the old argument.

Daisy went on. “I wasn’t about to give your dad a reason to run off. Maybe you ought to quit that radio business and take care of Jack.”

“Mom, it’s a different world than it was fifty years ago.”

“The Bible still says
wives, submit to your husbands
.”

“It doesn’t mean what you were taught.”

“It doesn’t mean to treat your husband with respect?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. It doesn’t mean you can’t work outside the home.”

“If it cancels out respect, it does.”

“Working outside the home has nothing to do with . . . Never mind.”
You win.

Arguing was not worth the effort.

Nothing had changed between them. At least there was no possibility of alienating her mother. The woman thrived on conflict.

“You’re sort of like your mother, Jill.”

A chill went through her. Jack had said that once. She talked him out of the comparison, blaming it on her work. She was totally caught up in developing the Crunchy Casserole and Rockin’ Roast concepts. Jack let it go.

But . . . she was sort of like her mom. She pecked at Jack’s opinion until he changed it or until he must have decided, as she did now,
“Never mind, you win.”

It sounded like one more obnoxious trait to add to her list.

* * *

Jill retreated to her old bedroom with her laptop.

Although no trace of her childhood remained in the room, memories surrounded her all the same. They were not unpleasant. Overall, growing up in Sweetwater had been okay. Competition at school was nil, which meant a short, chubby girl could make the cheerleading squad and a so-so student could be student council president.

Somewhere along the way she had picked up on the idea that the God who gave her words in the desert also gave her dreams to follow. Marrying her high school boyfriend and simply repeating her parents’ life never appealed to her. That Something Else beckoned her first to San Diego and later to a totally new life with Jack. It beckoned her to teaching and radio and writing.