Stardust Miracle (6 page)

Her second song would be “I’ve Been a Fool.”

Five minutes later they were driving to the house she’d never felt was hers. She didn’t pick it out. It belonged to the church. And she already didn’t miss it. Living in it was like wearing her grandmother’s clothes when she wanted to pick out her own.

Sarah told her who’d called while she was sick. It was a pitifully small list of people who wanted her lists and instructions on what to do about church matters. Sarah had told them Becky was sick. If they wanted any information, they could ask their pastor. The one who was actually
paid
to guide their flock.

Right now Becky felt too crappy to care. The best thing about being sick was losing so much weight. One hundred eighty pounds in two weeks.

One hundred seventy-two of them had been Jim. She smiled, and when the car stopped in the parsonage driveway and they headed to the front door, her step was lighter.

They weren’t inside the parsonage for more than ten minutes when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” Becky had half a suitcase full, but out of habit left the packing to open the door. Besides, it was depressing packing the church clothes she wanted to leave. But she had to be practical. She might get a job in an office and would need the clothes she hated now.

She was still thinking about it when she opened the door and saw Jim’s face.

He wasn’t smiling, and that was the only reason she didn’t slam the door in his face.

“I heard you were sick,” he said.

“I heard you were at church. You’re not supposed to be here.” She put her foot behind the door so he couldn’t push it open and walk in. She held onto the door, too, though her body began to shake. She felt like she’d rolled out of a garbage truck.

And before her stood the guy who’d tossed her in.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “I won’t stay long.”

“No.” Sarah stepped next to Becky. Her voice strident, Sarah sounded more like a WW wrestler than a pregnant mom. “You caused her enough harm. Leave her alone to gather a few things.”

“I know I was at fault,” he said, looking at Becky, not Sarah. “I acted like my father. A womanizer. And I always said I wouldn’t be like him.”

She frowned. A month after the funeral for Jim’s father, when his mother left town to live with a friend, his mother’s expression had been alive, so different from the closed-up, unhappy woman Becky had been used to. As if her husband’s death had set her free.

Now Becky was living with her sister. And she felt more alive – and more scared – than since she married Jim sixteen years ago. History was repeating itself, though her stay with Sarah’s family would be temporary. 

She stood back to allow Jim to enter, and Sarah groaned. Becky raised an eyebrow at Sarah. “I’m only letting him in because he asked. After all, he could’ve just walked in.”

“He’s smart enough to know you would walk right out if he did.” Sarah glowered at him. “Plus, you’ve got the pictures.” She glowered harder. “If that’s why you came, you wasted your time. Becky has her cell phone well hidden. And I have the pictures on mine, too. And Becky opened up a new email account. One you’ll never access.”

Jim stepped inside. “I deserve your contempt.” He turned to Becky, his brow creased. “And your anger.”

“I’m not arguing with you.” She still held onto the door. Sarah came over and put her arm around her shoulders. Knowing that Sarah had her back, Becky let go of the door.

“You mind leaving me with my wife for a few minutes?” Jim asked Sarah.

“Yes, I do mind.”

Becky wanted to laugh but it would hurt her stomach. “Jim, you’re wasting your time. I’m not coming back to you or this place. I’m not deleting the photos. I don’t know what else there is to say to you.”

“I screwed this up, didn’t I?”

“Big time. Surely you don’t expect me to disagree?”

“And don’t expect her to change her mind,” Sarah said.

“I already know that.” He kept his gaze on Becky’s face, his mouth pressed tight and radiating pain, as if he were hurting bad.

Another woman might’ve been flattered. Instead, Becky stared back, not impressed. She was too tired to care. Too numb. She just wanted him to leave. She just wanted to pack up so she could go back to Sarah’s where she could eat some chocolate and figure out what she needed to do to get on with her life.

“I just wanted to say I was sorry. I tried to be a good husband and I failed. I failed you and I failed myself.”

Out of nowhere, Becky’s eyes prickled. She blinked hard. No tears. She would not cry in front of him.

“I’ve been thinking about our marriage,” she said. In between running to the bathroom and sleeping and feeling like she never wanted to eat food again, she’d thought about a lot of depressing stuff. Most of it had to do with Jim and her dad.

“You should sit down,” Sarah said to her.

Becky glanced at her. “I won’t be long.” She faced Jim again. “Our marriage wasn’t good from the start. I realize now that I married you because it’s what my father wanted. And you married me because it’s what he wanted.”

“Maybe that was part of it.”

“A
big
part of it.”

“Not all of it. I did love you.” He paused and stared into her eyes.

She looked right back into his. Not saying anything. If he were waiting for her to say she loved him back, he’d be waiting for a long, long time.

Maybe she had loved him. She couldn’t remember. But their marriage held only a tepid kind of love. Nothing like Sarah’s marriage with Marsh. Their love was a Romeo and Juliet kind of love. Like a teapot steaming so hot it whistled. She and Jim, on the other hand, were like lukewarm water that never boiled. 

Jim still didn’t say anything. Just waited.

Sarah’s hand on Becky’s shoulder tightened, and Becky could feel her getting pissed.

“Not enough,” Becky said quietly, only because if she didn’t, Sarah might slug him. “You didn’t love me enough.”

“You’re right.” He sucked his lips in and then out, and bobbed his head. “Not enough.”

“And you’re still an asshole,” Becky said.

He laughed, looking surprised. Then his laughter died and his forehead furrowed. “I was a jerk. I admit it. I already admitted all of it to the congregation.”

“Of course you did,” Sarah said. “Yet somehow you made them feel it was Becky’s fault.”

“I told them I was unfaithful and my wife left me. I didn’t say anything more.”

“They wanted to believe it was my fault.” Becky glanced at Sarah. “He’s their spiritual leader, after all. They
need
to continue to believe in him.”

“I won’t stand in your way,” Jim said. “I’ll split our finances.”

“She should get more.” Sarah let go of Becky and took a step closer to him. “You still live in this house rent free. She was working at the church since you were married. Not making any social security. Not making any wages. Not anything.”

Jim eyebrows tipped down into a frown, and Becky could practically see his brain cells firing. “I already took half the money out and left half for you. My lawyer thought I was being generous. We’ve saved quite a bit. And it’s not like we have kids.”

Becky stiffened.
He already talked to a lawyer? Already took money out of their joint account?

But none of it hurt like his last sentence, about not having kids.

She wanted to hurt him back. “Get out, Jim.”

“Becky—”

“Out.” She pointed to the door.

He gave her his ‘you always make a big fuss about everything’ look, then shrugged and left.

As the door closed behind him, Becky said, “Asshole.”

“I want to hurt him,” Sarah said.

“Me, too.”

“When we get home, you’re calling a lawyer. I know a good one.”

Becky nodded, feeling sick again. “Let’s pack and get out of here.”

In the bedroom, Sarah told her to sit and she would pack.

“I can’t let you do this,” Becky said.

Sarah gave her a stern frown. “Hey, you were the one who raised me. This is just a small thing I’m doing in return.”

“I’m living in your house.”

“You changed my diapers.”

“No, Mom did that. By the time she got too sick to watch you, you were out of diapers.”

Sarah disappeared into the walk-in closet though her voice carried to Becky. “I think I still must’ve done a few disgusting things.”

Becky laughed and lay on her bed. Her mind whirled and so did the ceiling. She hoped she didn’t get sick...

The next thing she knew, Sarah woke her. “I think I’ve got all your personal stuff. It’s in the car.” She pointed a finger at Becky’s face, stabbing the air. “And don’t say I should’ve waited for you. Is there anything else here?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“I didn’t take dishes or anything.”

“I don’t want them.”

“He’s keeping the furniture, too. Tell your lawyer Jim needs to reimburse you for your half of everything.”

Becky laughed but it was harsh and joyless.

Sarah helped her off the bed, as if Becky were an invalid.

Fitting, because she felt old and decrepit, with no more energy than a zombie. 

When they got outside, Becky stopped and looked back. “I won’t miss that home or anything in it.”

“Including the asshole.”

“Most of all, the asshole.” She turned to the car and hobbled toward it.

“Men drive women crazy,” Sarah said. “They just do.”

Becky laughed, and already felt better. Not happy yet, but as if she could see happiness ahead of her.

It wasn’t the a-miracle-is-about-to-happen feeling, though. And she wondered if the sparkles at the church that Sunday before her life as she’d known it had fallen apart had meant...anything.

Chapter Nine

Four days later, Becky drove back to Sarah’s from the big city of Wausau, feeling happy and sad, scared and brave. Her mood seesawed by the second. The sky was bright and shiny, and so was her future.

Maybe.

And on the passenger car seat were the papers and something else. Something that sent her heart thumping like a scared rabbit’s.

Her father would be furious if he knew what she planned. She felt as if someone would arrest her any moment.

But of course, they wouldn’t. It was
her
money. She could do whatever she wanted with it.

When she pulled into the driveway, Marsh was heading out. He stopped the van and stuck his head out of the window.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“My lawyer is filing the papers.” Becky heard the perkiness in her voice and winced. Her people-pleasing tendencies needed to stop. She really wasn’t perky, and the person she wanted to please from now on was herself. She could even be a little snarky – at least in her thoughts.

Maybe she should put that on a resume. All she needed now was to find a job that required sarcasm and she was set.

“How long before you lose the loser?” Marsh asked.

She laughed too loudly but for once didn’t stop herself. Maybe she was really the kind of person who laughed too loud. There were worse crimes than laughter. And what Marsh said deserved a super-loud laugh. He and Sarah were the only ones in town who would call Jim a loser.

“Four months, if Jim doesn’t contest anything.” And he wouldn’t. She had the photos as insurance. But she felt free already. Freer than she’d felt for a long time. As if she’d been a bird in a cage and now the cage door was open.

And she was teetering on the edge, seesawing, a few strings still pulling on her, saying, ‘Be careful or you’re going to screw this up, too.’

“Great.” Marsh nodded, a distracted look on his face, already thinking of someone, something or somewhere else. He was a man who’d settled everything in his mind and was ready to go on his way. Her father had that look, and so did Jim. If God were really a man, she’d bet He would have that look, too.

“Before you go,” she said, “I’ve got something for you.”

“Yeah?” He looked forward. Still mentally somewhere else.

She glanced in the rear view mirror but didn’t see anything at the Webber’s house across the street. The kids should be at school, Joy and Kevin at work. Sarah had driven to a gallery in Merrill to get appraisals of a few paintings Marsh had bought a couple days before. Becky had promised to be back when Cody got home from school, glad to do something for them.

No one else lived close enough to see what she was going to do.

Her hand slid into her overlarge purse that she’d used for church meetings and the deadly dull ministerial conventions she and Jim attended every year. She pulled out a manila envelope then held it out the window. “Here,” she said in a low voice.

“Huh?” He looked at her, and his eyes focused. “What’s this about?”

“About this.” She waved the envelope at him. “Take it.”

His eyebrows rose and he took it from her. She waited while he opened it and looked inside.

He lifted his head and stared at her. His face paled, and for the first time she noticed a spattering of orange freckles on his nose and across his cheekbones. He didn’t speak. Just stared.

“Don’t tell Sarah,” she said. “Don’t tell anyone. No one needs to know.”

“Why?” His voice was harsh.

She stared back. Now she was speechless. Unable to say the words.
Because you were there for me. Because I should have done more for you long ago. Because I know your truck is falling apart and you can’t afford another one. Not with the baby coming.

Because I love all of you so much that I lie awake at night sometimes and when I think about you, it keeps me from going into the dark places.

“It’s rent,” she said.

“Well, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pounded his steering wheel with each ‘fuck,’ grinning like he’d won the lottery. Like he’d been carrying a heavy load on his shoulders and it had just lightened up by a ton.

Then he put his mouth in a line. Looked down on his lap. Shook his head. Picked up the envelope and handed it back to her.

“I can’t do it. I just can’t do it.”

“Come on.” She wanted to hit him.

“Sarah wouldn’t take it.”

“I know. That’s why I’m giving it to you.” She wanted to hit him twice. “You need it. I got it. Our dad should’ve given Sarah and you money long ago.”