The Runaway Pastor's Wife (3 page)

Seated on the plane two hours later, Annie
reached into her purse to turn off her cell phone. The special cell pocket was
empty. She panicked, digging through the rest of her bag. Nothing. Mentally
back-tracking her morning, her shoulders sagged in disbelief when she remembered
tossing it toward her purse in the van, but apparently not
into
her
purse. The tiny gadget was most likely resting between the passenger seat and
door.

Great. Just great.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Delta
Airlines Flight 1624 with non-stop service to
Colorado Springs
. The
captain has been given clearance to depart from the terminal at this time, so
we ask for your immediate attention to the flight attendant nearest you
regarding our safety features.”

Annie continued shaking her head, still livid at
the blunder in her well-constructed plans. Then a thought occurred to her.
Maybe leaving her cell phone behind wasn’t a mistake after all. Maybe it was
exactly what she needed to do.

Oblivious to the flight attendant’s voice
drifting through the crowded cabin, Annie looked out the window beside her as
the aircraft backed away from the gate then rolled gently across the tarmac.
Gates and hangars marched slowly by. She leaned over to look up at the sky,
studying the ominous clouds overhead.
God, please hold the weather just a
few more minutes until we can get up above the clouds. I can’t bear to stay on
the ground another minute.

She realized she was doing it again. Her jaws
ached from the constant clenching, a mindless habit she’d acquired over the last
few months. She flexed her jaw, dropping her mouth open and shut, open and
shut, working out the kinks.

Get a hold of yourself. It’s a four-hour flight.
That’s all.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She
couldn’t believe she’d been so ugly to Fran on the phone.

What am I doing here?

Always, whenever the wave of hostility or
anxiety began to threaten her composure, she reached for something to read.
Earlier, while rushing through one of the airport gift shops, she picked up a
copy of Grisham’s latest bestseller. Trusting the author to give her the escape
she desired, she reached for the book stuffed in her carry-on bag under the
seat in front of her. Rummaging through the bag, she noticed the tapestry cover
of her journal. Her heart began to hammer against her chest.

Not now. Not yet.

Finding the novel, she plopped it in her lap and
flipped through the introductory pages to the first chapter. By the time the
737 screamed off the runway into the air, she’d read the first sentence four
times. As the darkened sky swallowed the silver bird in flight, she slowly
closed the book and exchanged it for the journal. Thankful for the empty seats
beside her, she caressed the worn cover gently in her hands, tracing the
rounded edges with the tip of her finger.

My life is pressed between the covers of this
book.

For some reason, the realization hit her hard.
For as long as she could remember, she had recorded the details of her life.
Sometimes the entries stretched page after page as she relayed significant
events. Others were brief—sometimes nothing more than a simple phrase or
thought or a single lyric from a song that touched her.
But it’s all here.
The story of my life.

Yet even now, as the plane’s vapor surely
trailed the expanding distance behind them, Annie knew what she must do. She
swallowed hard and opened the journal.

I’m
engaged! I can’t believe it! The most wonderful man on the face of the earth
wants to marry me! How can that be? It was so romantic—the way he proposed,
surprising me below my balcony. Even the neighbors got in on the act. Yes,
David McGregor, YES!! I will marry you!!! And I will follow you to the ends of
the earth . . .

A slight smile tugged at her mouth, the memories
rolling over her in a gentle wave. David had been such an unexpected joy in her
life. Hard to believe they once lived such a fairy tale existence. She ignored
the nagging swell of her heart rate, refusing to think beyond the entry. She
continued revisiting the special moments of her life, occasionally skipping
notes here and there, sometimes several pages at a time.

David’s
first Sunday as the new pastor of
Tall
Pines
Community
Church
. We
were so nervous! I got up early to make his favorite breakfast but he couldn’t
eat a bite. But he was AMAZING once he got to the pulpit. His voice was a
little shaky at first, then he found his stride and spoke like he’d preached
every single day of his life. I was so proud of him!

Her stomach muscles tensed. She remembered the
glow of those early days of ministry, happier times now filtered through far
too much resentment.
I was such a naive fool back then.

She flipped through the pages, then paused to
read the December 20th entry from just over sixteen years ago when a little guy
named Max joined them quite unexpectedly.

We’re
parents! I can’t believe it! It all happened so fast. I only wish we could’ve
met his birth mother or at least find out why she picked us. Max is only 8
months old and absolutely adorable. Father, thank You for letting us be
Mommy and Daddy to this little guy. He’s the best Christmas gift—and first
anniversary gift—we could ever ask for!

Annie could see the sparkling eyes and curly
brown hair of the little boy who stole their hearts. Definitely a case of love
at first sight. How was it possible this same bundle of joy was now driving?
Shaving, no less!

She read on.

My back
is killing me. I had 15 four-year-olds in Sunday school this morning and none
of my helpers showed up. It never fails. How can they be so inconsiderate? It
wouldn’t be so bad except I can’t get around very well right now. Baby Jeremy
is due in three weeks, and I feel like a beached whale. Oh Lord, forgive me for
being so frustrated with these folks. I’m sure they had their reasons.

“Would you like some lunch?”

Annie blinked out of her nostalgic cocoon as the
flight attendant extended a small basket toward her. “Oh . . .
yes, thank you.” She slid the ribbon bookmark to her page in the journal,
dropping down the tray table from the seat in front of her. She reached for her
billfold, pulling out sufficient bills to pay for the meal.

She hadn’t noticed the flurry of activity in the
plane as passengers removed plastic wrapping from thick deli sandwiches, potato
chips, and oversized sugar cookies. As if on cue, her stomach growled,
reminding her she’d forgotten to eat breakfast that morning. She took a bite of
the turkey and provolone sandwich, silently praying over her meal. Then, taking
a deep breath, she gazed toward the panoramic view out her window.

Maybe
it’s all in my head. Maybe things really aren’t as bad as they seem. If only
I’d taken more time to stop and breathe once in a while. If only I’d forced
myself to take a few breaks along the way, go to the beach like I used to. Soak
up the warm sunshine and feel the sand between my toes.

“Beverage?”

The friendly attendant had returned with a drink
cart. “Yes, please. Mineral water with a twist of lemon?”

“Sure,” the uniformed brunette answered, popping
open a bottle and pouring it over ice in the small glass. She tucked a wedge of
lemon on the rim and handed it to Annie.

Later, all remnants of her lunch removed, Annie
retrieved her journal and opened it once again. She turned to the place she’d
marked with the thin satin ribbon, working her jaw again. She skimmed through
more of the entries, memories and details of a marriage and a family that
somehow lost its way.

The night David arrived half an hour after
Jessica’s birth.

Even now, more than five years later, the
resentment gripped a secret place in her heart. He’d apologized a thousand
times. No, it wasn’t his fault. Jessica had arrived two weeks early. There was
no way he could have known when he left town for the convention. But by the
time her contractions began, she knew he would never get back in time. She’d
tried to be gracious and accept it, but somehow the apologies weren’t enough.
It was so much more. For the first time, as if in living color, she saw the
literal reality of what their life had become.

The church owned David McGregor.

And he allowed them to do so.

Of course, he never had enough time to stop and
ponder anything so close to home. They kept him much too busy. Annie still
believed he was a good decent man who loved her and loved their children. So
what had happened? How had David let it come to this? How had
she
let it
come to this?

Annie had asked those questions more times than
she could count. Rocking little Jessica, she would voice those concerns to
David in cross whispers when he came home late at night. His response? A blank
stare. Too tired to face a confrontation, he would nod his head, apologize,
then shuffle off to bed. By morning, he would cling to her in bear hug
embraces, grovel in more apologies, and make all kinds of desperate promises.
But she knew things would stay the same. He would be sucked back into the
relentless vacuum of his chosen profession.

She might as well be a single mom.

The thought sent a familiar grip circling her
head. She reached for her bag and the migraine medication she lived on these
days. The bitter pill melted under her tongue as she waited for relief. She
tired of the beleaguered journey through the pages of her life, but she kept
on. She was searching for something—anything that would help her find her way
back. Anything that could give her a clue. Her body begged for a nap, but she
picked up the book once more, passing months of entries as she neared the last
few handwritten pages.

Last year’s Mother & Daughter
Banquet . . .
As chairman of the annual
event, Annie had barely seen her daughter and mother-in-law that night. Two
bites into her salad, she was whisked away to attend to another emergency. It
wasn’t until the end of the banquet she spotted her disappointed daughter,
still sitting at their table, stirring her cold potatoes in a pile of mush.
Annie sat down beside her, stroking the long blonde curls before pulling her
into a hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to desert you and Gran.”

“That’s okay, Mommy. It wasn’t any fun anyway.
Can we go home now?”

She could still feel the sting in her eyes at
the honesty of Jessie’s statement. All that work. All those months. But Jessie
was absolutely right. It was no fun at all. It was a mother and daughter
celebration, but
this
mother had spent only five minutes with her
daughter.
Five minutes.
Suddenly, the truth pierced her heart: Jessica
got crumbs that night—Annie’s crumbs. The same kind of crumbs Annie got from
David.

What goes around comes around.

Annie exhaled a hushed moan, rolling her neck to
stretch out the kinks.
Enough of this.
But there was one page more she
must read. She didn’t want to read it. She had to. The words written there were
still fresh, lettered only seven days ago.

Today,
I drew a line in the sand. It is the line that divides all my yesterdays from
all my tomorrows. I will no longer be who I have been. I am through with that
life. I have to get away. I have to, or I will lose my mind. Tonight I made
reservations for a flight to
Colorado
. I
leave one week from today. I’m borrowing Christine’s cabin while she’s overseas
right now. There I will figure out what I’m going to do. I will open my heart
to God and ask for His help, but I will no longer remain as I am. Something
happened today. And when it did, something snapped inside me. I needed David
desperately. But he was gone. He always is. He was ministering to a hurting family
in our church. They needed him. How typical. And how utterly ironic.

Annie slammed the book shut. She dropped her
face into her trembling hands.
Oh God, no. Not here. Don’t let me fall
apart. Not yet.
She squeezed her eyes and pressed her lips together,
steeling herself against another wave of emotion, this one trying desperately
to pull her under.

High above the earth in a plane arcing over the
Midwest
, Annie
knew she must come to grips with who she was and exactly what she was doing . .
.

A pastor’s wife, running away from home.

CHAPTER 2

Seminole,
Florida

“It never fails,” Caroline McGregor mumbled.
“The closer it is to school dismissal, the higher the chance for rain.” She
pulled her car into the long curling line of vehicles behind the school building.
The afternoon downpour hastened windshield wipers into rhythmic frenzies,
like so many metronomes all out of sync with one another.