SAVANNAH PULLED OVER TO THE SIDE OF THE COUNTRY ROAD TO double check the address. This was the place. The sprawling antebellum mansion was set back a good two hundred feet from the road, and some kind of orchard stretched for a quarter mile away from either side of it. But it was the sign at the mouth of the gravel driveway that had stunned her: The Refuge ~ A Christian Recovery Ministry.
She’d have understood perfectly if it weren’t for “ministry” tacked on at the end. That made it sound like… well, like a Christian ministry. But Tabitha had left the faith twenty years ago. Why would she be working here?
Now Savannah was torn. If Tabitha had changed her mind about Christianity, then talking to her probably wouldn’t help like she’d thought it would. But what was she going to do now, just turn around and go home? That was the last place she wanted to be.
yes, I would rather be at a retreat center apparently full of Christians than to be at home. How sad is that?
She sighed and turned into the driveway, following it to a circle drive in front of the house where she parked. The house was even more impressive up close. The white columns supporting the second-story wraparound porch looked to be freshly painted, and the brick facade gave the structure a stately, solid feel. She could picture Scarlett O’Hara gazing out of the tall windows from behind the purple velvet curtains, and the image made her smile. Her family had all been city folk, most of them residing in Charleston, but her grandmother had lived in a small plantation home in rural South Carolina that had looked like this one’s little sister.
Savannah tapped the knocker twice on the door and waited, her breath shallow in her chest. When the door opened, it was like being sucked into a time warp. Tabitha looked just as she had twenty years ago, with only a few laugh lines and a touch of wisdom added to her kind face. Her smile was as welcoming as it had been back then, and before her embarrassment at past foolishness could stop her, Savannah fell into the embrace of her friend’s outstretched arms.
“Come on in,” Tabitha said after releasing her from the bear hug. “We’ll get your bags and park your car later. I’ve been so excited for you to come, I feel like a kid. I’ve got spinach dip in the sitting room and all manner of Coke, is that alright?”
Savannah laughed as she followed Tabitha through the warmly decorated foyer. “ ‘All manner of Coke', eh? You certainly have taken to the culture.”
Tabitha grinned. “I fell in love with the South. It’s got its flaws, but I was blessed to fall in with the folks that I did when I moved out from Colorado.” She offered a velvet-backed chair to Savannah beside a table where a tray held a bowl of dip surrounded by crackers. “To drink?”
“Sprite?”
“You’ve got it. Be right back.”
Savannah surveyed the room while she waited for Tabitha to return. The decor was straight from Southern Living, and felt like a great big hug from a well-loved aunt. The Southerner in her missed the bright colors and high ceilings and little touches that were hallmarks of the Southern style. She loved her mountain lodge-like home, too, but this place resonated with her roots. It was another remnant of her former self that brought her a grain of comfort.
Tabitha returned, and Savannah accepted the drink she poured for her. “So you’ve been in this house all this time?”
“Oh, no, we moved here about seven years ago. I was in Savannah before that, believe it or not.”
Savannah noticed Tabitha wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. “And ‘we’ would be…”
“Oh, the ministry I run, The Refuge.”
Savannah narrowed her eyes and shook a finger at her, though a smile tugged at her mouth. “You didn’t tell me you’d come back to the fold – or that you were in ministry, you sneak.”
Tabitha chuckled, her nose wrinkled in the endearing way that had attracted half the boys in college. “I got the impression that it wouldn’t go over well. And I knew if you came out it would be good for you. I didn’t want anything to change your mind.”
“You duped me.”
“I’d like to think I saved you from your own misconceptions.”
“Ooh, think you know me so well after all this time?”
“Oh, honey,” Tabitha said, her words edged with laughter. “Twenty years isn’t so long in some ways. And besides, you and I were always like two peas, and I know myself well enough to know that I would have changed my plans, were our roles reversed.” She helped herself to some dip and indicated that Savannah should do the same. “Now, I should warn you that in about ten minutes we’ll be seeing some more people. Everyone’s at the group therapy session at the moment, but after that most everybody will be coming through here on their way to the kitchen.”
“Group therapy? What exactly is The Refuge?”
“It’s a place for people who have been deeply wounded by the church, or by anyone, really, in the name of Christianity. I started it with a friend about ten years ago. We’ve had pastors, church and ministry volunteers and staff, missionaries – even people who grew up with spiritually abusive parents who fed them a poisoned view of God. Folks stay here and get counseling, some fellowship, and support as they find their way back to God. The church has a tendency to shoot its wounded – we try to help them heal in the aftermath.”
Savannah found it hard to look Tabitha in the eyes, knowing that she had been guilty of ‘shooting’ Tabitha when she’d begun to question their faith. Instead, she studied the elaborate pattern on the wallpaper. “That’s a really beautiful thing to do, Tabitha.”
“Thank you.”
“How long do folks stay when they come? Is it like Betty Ford, a 28-day program?”
Tabitha chuckled. “No. It’s more of a drop-in setup. They stay for as long as they feel necessary, and some people come and go, using us as a supplemental program to the therapy they’re already doing in their own hometown. Right now we’ve got about ten folks staying with us; two more are coming next week, and three are planning to go home.” She smiled at Savannah. “And now, of course, there’s you, too. But don’t worry,” she added hastily, “I wasn’t expecting you to participate in the program or anything. Though you are welcome to if you want. I’ll give you a schedule so you know what’s going on when. But now you know why I thought it might be helpful for you to be here – besides the fact that I’ve been in your shoes.”
Savannah sighed and forced herself to meet Tabitha’s gaze. “I am sorry, friend. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Tabitha shook her head. “It’s all forgiven, truly. And don’t think you were the one that drove me away; I didn’t tell you everything that was going on, and you couldn’t have known what I was really going through. That was my own fault. I had no reason not to trust you with the details, but I was young and stupid and hurting and knew a lot of it was my own fault, so it was hard to admit everything, even to my closest friend. So, forgive me for not being honest with you and giving you a chance to help me when I needed it.”
Savannah ached for all the years they’d lost because of pride and hastily-drawn misconceptions. “What was it that you didn’t think you could tell me? If you’re willing to tell me now, that is. It’s alright if you’d rather not.”
Tabitha settled deeper into her seat. “No, I don’t mind. Remember Professor Hurst? We had him junior year. He was handsome in a Redford kind of way.”
Savannah thought for a moment. “Oh – Old Testament, right? Yes, I do remember him.”
“Well, we had an affair.”
Savannah nearly dropped her glass. “What!” Tabitha chuckled. “I just… I can’t even…”
“I know, I know. But remember how I started working for the Biblical Studies department senior year? I ended up doing a lot of work for him – research and transcribing and the like. And we were alone together in the department offices quite a lot, because I worked at night and he often stayed late. He was so friendly, and a bit of a flirt, and you remember what I was like back then.”
Savannah did indeed. Lithe and beautiful, with serious smarts, but a penchant for free-spirited fun. Savannah often warned her that men would misinterpret her actions as being flirtatious and welcoming in a sexual way, even though she was just vivacious and friendly. She had been a bit of a rule-breaker, too, which only added to the problem. “Let me guess – he thought you were coming on to him.”
“Yes. Though he certainly encouraged it and responded with his own flirting; it definitely wasn’t one-sided. Anyway, I developed a huge crush on him, and then, because I was heady with hormones and his attention, I fell in love with him.”
Tabitha took another cracker and gestured with it as she spoke. “So I worked with him for the whole first semester, and then after I came back from Christmas break he told me he’d missed me and couldn’t wait until I’d returned. I read into that all sorts of emotion and affection that probably weren’t even there, which I’m sure was his goal, and I admitted that I’d missed him, too, and that I really enjoyed working with him – though I made sure ‘really enjoyed’ was properly annotated with lots of nonverbal communication that made clear exactly how I felt. After that, things became much more serious. He told me he wanted to marry me, but that we couldn’t say anything to anyone because I was still a student and it might look bad. We planned to start publicly dating after graduation and get married at Christmas. But then one night after spring break…”
“Oh no.”
Tabitha nodded. “Yes. And I got pregnant. He freaked out and dumped me, claiming I was a Jezebel, that I’d charmed him-it was all my fault, you know?”
Savannah was heartbroken. “Tabitha, why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because I was afraid everyone would side with him. You remember how much trouble I got in at that school – no one in administration would have believed me against him. I was afraid they wouldn’t graduate me because I’d broken the covenant yet again, and way more seriously.”
Savannah was grieved to know it was true. Tabitha was the kind of Christian woman that the school hadn’t known what to do with. She hadn’t fit the traditional mold, and had challenged every attempt to stuff her into it. She had adhered just barely to the dress code, had both blatantly and secretively bucked the covenant each student signed upon matriculation to the school by drinking (two shots of Bailey’s over ice on her 21st birthday), breaking curfew (though she was hardly the only one) and dancing (on the Quad, at noon, with her Sony Walkman plugged into her ears, the day she found out she’d made straight A’s for the first time), and often asked the kinds of squabble-inducing questions that professors hated. But she did none of it to try to provoke anyone. She did it because she hated legalism and saw no reason why a liberated woman of the 80's should be constrained by the traditions of the 50's.
Savannah had agreed, but it wasn’t her nature to buck the system. It was one of the few ways in which their personalities digressed, and one of the many reasons why Savannah had loved being roommates with Tabitha.
The significance of Tabitha’s admission suddenly sank in. Savannah chose her words carefully. “So-you have a child?”
The look of sadness that flashed across her face before she answered made Savannah’s heart ache even more. “No. I aborted her.”
“Oh Tabs. I am so sorry.”
Tabitha shrugged as she took a sip of her soda. “I am too. It was an impulsive decision. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t feel like I could tell anyone what was happening-how could I possibly go home to my parents’ house pregnant? And by a professor, no less? I just went and did it without letting myself think about it too much. I kept telling myself that it was so early on, it wouldn’t really matter. It did, of course, and once it hit me what I’d done I was devastated. That’s when everything started falling apart – my faith included.”
“And that’s when you told me you weren’t sure you wanted to be a Christian anymore.”
“That’s right.”
“And like a fool I didn’t even push you for an explanation. You understand that I couldn’t imagine anything like all of this happening to you, right? I mean, it was stupid of me to make any assumptions at all, but I thought it had to do with not getting into the grad school you’d applied to.”
Tabitha laughed. “Seriously?”
“Well, your reactions had always been… big.”
She gave a conceding shrug. “That’s true; they were.”
“And you said something about not believing God cared about your future, or about your pain. I just figured you’d really had your heart set on that school.” Savannah shook her head. “It didn’t occur to me that anything else could be going on. I mean, we lived together. I saw you all the time – when would anything have happened that I wasn’t there to see? I never in a thousand years would have thought anything like that was going on.”
Tabitha waved a hand. “It’s all in the past. And God has used it for good. The Refuge was born out of my desire to help other people who had been hurt like I had been. The family I rented from when I moved out here – they were a true Godsend. They practically adopted me. And over the course of five years or so, they loved me back to faith. They helped me get the ministry started; God laid it on their hearts as well as mine. So how can I complain, you know? He redeemed my lost years and gave me a life with more purpose than I could have imagined.” She grinned. “And I’m one of the few people I know actually using my college degree.”
“So you’re a therapist here?”
“I am. I got my master’s in Atlanta, and my PhD, as well.”
“Amazing.” Savannah shook her head, astonished at the story. “Just amazing. I’m so happy everything turned out so well for you.” She chafed a bit at all the God talk, but the serenity and peace and joy she saw in Tabitha’s face made her long for the same outcome. She almost didn’t want to admit it, but Tabitha might have been right. Maybe Savannah really did need to be here.
THAT EVENING, AFTER THE POT roast dinner that Savannah had to admit was the best she’d ever had, she and Tabitha sat out on the second-story porch cocooned in quilts and continued to catch up on the time they had lost. Tabitha was apparently very skilled at reading people-or at least reading Savannah-because she had yet to ask Savannah what had actually happened. Savannah was relieved to put it off for a little while. She wanted to forget about the reason she’d come out and just focus on regaining the friendship she’d missed so much. Her friends back in the Springs were good people, and she’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with them over the years; but something about her relationship with Tabitha was different, deeper. Tabitha was a Jesus friend, closer than a brother, see-into-your-soul insightful, lavish with both her love and her forgiveness, even in the face of Savannah’s foolishneess. She was the sister Savannah had never had, who could read her like a book and didn’t buy the facade she tried to erect to save her image or her pride. She knew that, when she did finally tell what had happened, Tabitha wouldn’t come back at her with the same empty advice she’d gotten from others – and it wasn’t just because she understood what it was like to have your faith ripped away. Tabitha wasn’t made uncomfortable by other people’s pain.
The sky was black by the time Savannah came to her recent history in the retelling of the last twenty years. “I thought for sure I was going to die. I never once told Shaun – I didn’t tell anyone. I maintained a brave face and insisted I would be healed, but only because I thought if I claimed it enough, and got myself to believe it, that that would be the proof of my faith that God was looking for. And then, just before the surgery, I had this… this epiphany about my relationship with God, and I felt like my eyes were finally opened. Those few days were just… bliss. Mountaintop, day in and day out. I could feel his presence; I had this clarity of faith and thought that I hadn’t had in a really, really long time. And then I woke up from the surgery and it was all gone. So much was going on in those first couple weeks, physically and emotionally and mentally, that it didn’t dawn on me until later. It’s a serious mind-trip to know that such an integral part of your body is totally gone, and someone else’s integral part is now in its place – not to mention that you have it because they’re dead.” She gave a little shudder, though the quilt was plenty warm for the mild November night. “I started noticing little things were different, but I chalked them up to still recovering from the surgery. I didn’t want to go out, but that was because I didn’t want to pick up any germs. I was more clumsy, but that was because I’d been really weak and sick before the surgery, and my muscles were still rebuilding. That sort of thing. But other things were happening that I couldn’t explain-like, I love strawberries now. More than chocolate.”
Tabitha’s eyebrows shot up. “Not really more than chocolate.”
“Really.”
“Girl, that’s weird.”
Savannah laughed. “Yes! It is! And I can’t account for that at all. Same with the… God thing.” Even saying the word made her throat hitch a bit, the same way swearing had felt when she’d tried to do it to look cool in junior high. “I went from being crazy in love with him, feeling his presence all around me, the Bible just lighting up when I’d read it, to how I am now.”
“Which is?”
She studied the view of the orchard, looking for the right words. “Feeling like the whole thing is pretty much a crock. Just… made up. The very concept sounds ridiculous to me. Plus anger sits under the surface all the time, and it flares at the slightest irritation. Especially if it has anything to do with religion. I’d walk into A &A and have a physical reaction-I wanted to just get out of there. The people, the purpose of the place-it all made me sick.”
Tabitha said nothing, and Savannah welcomed her unwillingness to jump in with a diagnosis. They sat in silence, their rocking chairs squeaking in unison as their movement fell into sync, until Tabitha offered a simple, “Wow.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“So now what?”
“I don’t know. I can’t do my work. I can’t even fake doing my work. I had a ten-city tour planned and I walked off the stage at the first stop because I couldn’t bring myself to even just read the talk I’d written. My marriage is falling apart, my daughter-well, Jessie and I have never had a great relationship in the first place; but this definitely isn’t helping.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Savannah looked at Tabitha and smiled. “Thank you. You know, I don’t think anyone has said that. Well-not Marisa or Shaun, and they’re the only ones who know what’s really going on. They just want to fix it so they can keep A &A from falling to pieces.”
“I’m sure they care more about you than the ministry.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m sorry about that, then, too.”
Savannah was ready to get the conversation off of her. “So you never married?”
“No.”
“Because of what happened?”
“Because God led me down a different path. But I didn’t want anything to do with men for the first couple years after everything, either. And it took me a long time to get over the abortion. I couldn’t handle the thought of another pregnancy. I was afraid experiencing those symptoms again would send me into a depression. But now…” She smiled. “I’m thoroughly content. I love what I do, and I’m good at it, and God has blessed me in so many ways it’s almost silly. I have no desire to upset the balance of my life with that kind of relationship. But if God wanted me married, I’ve no doubt he’d awaken a desire in me for that.”
Savannah sighed. “See, all that you just said? In my head, I’m just thinking to myself, ‘How pathetic to give God so much credit.’”
Tabitha gave her a look she couldn’t read.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
Tabitha smiled. “It’s hard to turn off the psychologist in me, you know? But you didn’t come here to meet with a shrink, you came to meet with a friend who could relate to your pain. So I’m not going to start giving you my professional insights unless you ask.”
“But you’ll think them in your head, is that it?”
“Probably, yes.”
Savannah chuckled. “That’s fine with me.” She snaked a hand out from beneath the warm quilt to grab her coffee before it got too cold. “So what was it like, leaving the faith?”
“Easy at first. I felt so betrayed – by both God and Richard. That made it a lot easier to walk away. And I’d never quite fit in at the church I grew up in, and was always getting hassled by the admin at Christ College, so that all kind of coalesced in my head with the betrayal. I figured it was all just a sham and I was lucky to get out before I lost my whole life into it. You knew how I’d wanted to get out of Colorado; everything that happened gave me the gumption to actually go. My parents were sad I left, but not all that surprised, I don’t think. I didn’t tell them about leaving Christianity until a lot later. I didn’t really have to tell them; they weren’t around to see how I was living.”
Savannah raised her brows. “How were you living?”
Tabitha chuckled. “Not as recklessly as you might think. I’d already gotten hurt once; I didn’t want to put myself in the position of being hurt again. I got a lame minimum-wage job in Savannah – not what I’d wanted to do with my life, but it got me in a different time zone and I was happy enough for that. I rented a room from the Burlington family, just on the edge of the city, and they were the most welcoming and loving people I think I’ve ever met. They practically insisted I join them for dinner every night, and Anna always made me breakfast since Trent and I left for work about the same time. They had a daughter a couple years younger than me, and a son in high school. They were this classic Southern old-money family but with so much heart and sincerity and, as I quickly discovered, tremendous faith. They always invited me to church, and were never pushy about it, but I finally told Anna one night why I left Colorado and that I didn’t believe in God anymore, just so she wouldn’t get her hopes up about me joining them. She started crying – this woman that barely knew me was so broken over my story that she actually cried.” Tabitha chuckled. “You know me, I’m not much of a crier myself, but seeing how much she hurt for me really moved me. So I started crying, and that kind of opened the floodgates. I’d never really let myself grieve over everything that had happened-I buried my hurt, especially about the abortion, and made myself buck up and get on with things so I didn’t have to think about it.”
Savannah grinned. “Reminds me of how doctors always make the worst patients.”
Tabitha laughed. “Exactly! If someone else had done that I’d have been warning them about how that kind of stuffed-down pain can come back to bite you. But in myself, I didn’t see the problem. I just had to get my life back together.
“Anyway, Anna started praying over me – I mean, not just praying for me, but praying over my future and past and my purpose in life… I’d never heard anyone pray like that before. It was almost scary, how the feeling in the room palpably changed. Like it was charged with spiritual energy. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was a serious prayer warrior.” Tabitha smiled. “I didn’t have a chance staying away from God, living with that family. And of course he knew that, hence the reason I was there. And even though I was a little freaked out by the praying, I didn’t want to move out. I didn’t exactly want what she had, but I couldn’t quite get myself to leave it, either. This all happened after I’d been there about a year and a half. It took almost four more years before I was willing to step foot back in church, but when I did God really grabbed me. I met a woman there, Alanna, who had a slightly similar story to mine, and had gone through a period away from the church as well. We started talking, and God gave us the idea of The Refuge. We started it together with the Burlington’s help. That was almost ten years ago now. Alanna ended up getting married and her husband got transferred, so she left about three years ago.”
“And here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“Wow.” Savannah snuggled deeper beneath the quilt. “That’s a really beautiful story, Tabs.”
“All to God’s glory, but thanks.”
Savannah’s cell began to ring in her pocket. She fished it out and saw Marisa’s number on the screen. “Sorry-I should probably take this.” She answered with trepidation. “Hey Marisa, what’s up?”
“Hi, Savannah. Listen, I’m flying out to New York again tomorrow and I’ve got a layover in Atlanta, around one. My plane for New York doesn’t leave until almost 3. Do you think we could meet? I have some stuff from A &A that you need to go through, and I wanted to talk to you about something, in person.”
Savannah frowned. “Well, sure, that’s fine. Let me find out where we can meet and I’ll give you a call back.” They hung up and she told Tabitha about the call. “It’s never good when someone wants to talk to you ‘in person,’ is it?”
“Hmmm… not usually. You never know, though.”
“No, I know Marisa. Good news she can’t keep under her hat.”
“I’ll be praying for your meeting.”
She gave Tabitha a sidelong look and almost asked her not to. But hearing it from her felt different than it had felt from Shaun and Marisa. More sincere, less threatening. Even if she didn’t think it would do any good, it felt good to know her best friend was back at her side.
AT ONE O’CLOCK SAVANNAH ENTERED the Atlanta Bread Company just across the street from the airport. She ordered sweet tea for herself and waited at a table, trying not to feel anxious. Ever since she’d bombed at the book tour gig, her relationship with Marisa had been awkward at best. She’d given up expecting anyone to understand, but Marisa pushed her patience to the limit. Lately Savannah had taken to flat-out lying to get out of seeing her, and had it not been for the “in person” comment she’d have done the same for today.
Savannah grew more nervous as one minute after another passed. She ordered another iced tea and chided herself for her nerves. After all, what was the worst Marisa could have to say?
The more she thought about it the more she wished she hadn’t asked herself that.
Marisa finally appeared at half past one. “I’m sorry I’m late; it took longer to get here than I thought it would.”
Savannah tapped into her new bitter side to deal with her anxiety. “Never mind. What’s one more half hour out of my vacation?” The sarcastic tone was uncomfortable in her mouth, and seeing Marisa become even more flustered made her feel worse. “So,” she said, hoping to move things along quickly so she could get back to The Refuge, “what was so important that we had to have this little meeting?”
Marisa pulled a large yellow envelope from her computer bag. “This is some mail that came for you at A &A. I already sent the form replies to the ones that it made sense to, but there were some that I didn’t know what to do with.”
“Do you want to make replies right now?”
Marisa looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, no, not really.”
Savannah was a little miffed. Wasn’t that her job? “Well, alright then. Neither do I, frankly. But couldn’t these have waited until I came back?”
“I suppose they could have, but I thought this might be the better way to do it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why?”
Marisa pushed her hair behind her ears, a clear sign she was nervous. “Savannah, I think it’s time for me to quit A &A.”
Savannah was surprised at how hurt she felt, especially since she had already given Marisa the go-ahead to leave. “I – I didn’t think you were ready to go.”
“I wasn’t. But then all this happened, and I started making my plans to go out to New York, and I realized I just didn’t want to come back. Not that I didn’t want to come back to you,” she quickly amended. “I just mean I don’t want to leave Jeremy. I’m pretty sure I want to marry him, but I know it would be wiser for us to spend more time together first. He can’t leave his job, and my job is… well… precarious.”
Savannah told herself she had no right to feel abandoned, but she couldn’t deny the emotion. It had been different when she’d been the one telling Marisa to go, especially since Marisa hadn’t seemed eager to leave. But to have her officially quit felt like a knife in the gut. “I’m… well, I’m happy for you and Jeremy, of course. I just didn’t think you’d be leaving so soon.”
“I know, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry that I’m springing this on you while you’re on vacation. But I really felt like God was telling me it was the right thing to do. I already turned in my resignation to Shaun.”
Savannah was surprised. “You decided that quick. I just told you yesterday you could take some time off.”
“Well… I’d already written it. I was just waiting for God to tell me the right time to go.”
Savannah bristled at the comment. “Nice of him to ruin my sabbatical.”
“Savannah-”
“No, no, never mind. I really am happy for you, Marisa. Was there anything else you wanted to dump on me before you left?”
“Um, no -”
“Alright then, I’m going to get going.” Savannah grabbed the envelope from the table and stood. “Have a nice flight. Good luck in New York.”
She walked out of the restaurant with tears in her eyes and her emotions in complete confusion. She tried to sort them out as she drove, rather than wallowing and making herself too weepy to drive. She was halfway back to The Refuge before she finally realized the real reason she was so upset. It had nothing to do with Marisa, really, but with A &A. It felt like the beginning of the end. Without Marisa, she had no assistant. But there was no point in hiring someone else, because she wasn’t working anymore anyway. And if she wasn’t working anymore…
She decided to push back her return flight when she got back to The Refuge. Suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of going home.
SHAUN WOKE UP TO THE sound of a thud downstairs. He sat up and checked the date on his watch. Savannah wasn’t scheduled to come home for another week, now that she’d changed her flight-had she changed it again?
He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats as he called out, “Savannah?”
“Just me, Dad.”
He smiled as he finished dressing and went downstairs. “Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.”
“Hey, Mr. Trover.” Adam appeared from the dining room. “I was just putting Jessie’s school stuff on the table in there for her. Sorry if we woke you up.”
“Not a problem. I wouldn’t have slept in if I’d known you were coming. What’s the occasion?”
Jessie nodded to the pile of books Adam had put on the table.
“I’ve got a huge project due Monday and wanted to get some more time to work on it. There are just too many distractions on campus, and Adam had to come back anyway for his dad’s birthday dinner. He’s going to keep me company until he has to meet up with family.”
“Ah, well, happy birthday to your dad, Adam. I’m going to get myself some breakfast and have a shower; can I get you two anything?”
“No thanks, Mr. Trover.”
“We ate at the dorm,” Jessie said.
“Alright then. I’ll leave you alone so you can get to work.” He went into the kitchen, but could hear Adam and Jessie as they talked in the dining room. He couldn’t help but smile at how the two of them sounded together-already like an old married couple who could finish each other’s sentences. He and Savannah had been like that once.
His thoughts turned to Jessie and Adam marrying. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine it. They’d only been dating since the spring, but sometimes it was just obvious when two people belonged together. He’d been protective of Jessie when she’d told him she and Adam were dating; she’d never had a steady boyfriend, and he wasn’t crazy at the idea of some boy trying to get intimate with his daughter. But he’d begrudgingly admitted after seeing them together that, if she had to date someone, Adam was the best kind of boy for her to choose. And it was helpful that he and Savannah already knew his family, since his mother worked at A &A. Savannah had chided Shaun for not seeing their relationship in the cards sooner. They’d met when Adam’s mother, Ginny, had come on staff with A &A four years ago, and Savannah swore Adam had developed a crush on Jessie the first day they’d met. “I’m surprised it took them this long to get together,” she said. “But God was protecting their hearts. Dating at 20 is very different from dating at 16 – so much more maturity. I give them a year before they’re engaged.”
The thought of Jessie getting engaged made Shaun ill. He couldn’t pay for a wedding. He couldn’t help them with a down payment on a house, or even co-sign on a loan, given how poor his credit was likely to be at that point. And he knew his daughter’s personality-she wouldn’t elope. She’d want a giant party, a bash with a band and ten bridesmaids, a guest list of at least two hundred people-probably more since, between the two of them, they knew practically the entire college student body.
No longer hungry, Shaun abandoned the stack of pancakes he’d made and went for a run. When he came back and finished his shower, Adam was gone. Jessie sat at the dining room table, surrounded by notecards and thick books with titles like, The Psychology of the Child and Brain Development and Learning from Birth Through Adolescence. He was so impressed with her passion for her future family. He’d heard of women going to college to find a husband, but he’d never heard of anyone using their college years to learn how to be a better wife and mother.
“Interesting reading,” he said as he pulled out a chair.
“Fascinating, yeah.” She smiled at him and he could see the twinkle in her eyes that she always got when Adam had been around. “When Adam saw what they were he asked if he could read them, too, so I’m not the only one who has any idea what’s going on with our kids.”
Shaun laughed to hide his anguish. “He’s already talking kids?”
“I know, can you believe it?” She flashed a self-conscious smile as a blush crept into her cheeks.
“Did they not invite you to lunch?”
“Oh, no, they did. I’m just really desperate to finish this project, and I know how big family lunches at their place can go. Before you know it you’ve been hanging out and talking with people so long that it’s time for dinner. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave once I was there, but I would have lost too much work time if I’d stayed.”
“Little Miss Responsible.”
“I’m a first-born, what can I say?”
“Can I make you some lunch?” he asked.
“Sure, thanks.”
He went back to the kitchen and put together soup and sandwiches for both of them. With Savannah gone again, he was determined not to grocery shop until every food in the house was eaten. He’d gone just a few days before she’d left, so he had plenty to work with at the moment. He made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup to counter the chill of the mid-November day and set them up at the kitchen table so nothing spilled on Jessie’s project notes. “Thanks, Dad,” she said when she came to the table. “So much better than dorm food, even when it’s simple.”
“Glad you like it. Can Adam cook?” he asked with a wink.
She laughed. “Not really, no. Standard stuff he can handle, but a whole dinner, with sides and everything – not so much.”
“Ah, well, you’ll have to help him out then.” He chuckled when she blushed. “Oh, come on, you know we all think you two will get married.”
“You think so?”
“Don’t you?”
“Well…” she smiled. “Yeah.”
“Your mom saw it way before even you two did.”
“Really? Mom?”
“Oh, yes. She was thrilled when the two of you finally got together. She loves Adam.”
“You’re kidding. I didn’t know that.” She let out a snort. “Wish she loved everything else I was into.”
“She does, honey. Believe me. She’s got high standards, but it’s because she wants the best for people.”
The sunny look on Jessie’s face was gone. She stirred her soup, her eyes focused on her bowl. “Well if she wants me to reach my full potential she should be trying to spend a little more time with me instead of swooping in to criticize me at every turn.”
He covered her free hand with his own. “Hey, trust me Jess, I know how it feels to play second fiddle to A &A. But your mom takes her calling very seriously – “
“She was called to be a mother first. Either she forgot about that or God did. Either way, I’m not too happy with either of them in that regard.”
She pushed away her half-eaten soup and untouched sandwich. “I’m not really hungry. I’m going to get back to work.”
Shaun let her disappear back into the dining room without trying to stop her. He had his way of coping, and she had hers – he wasn’t going to push her to be okay with things. It hurt him to see the chasm between her and Savannah, but at this point he wasn’t sure it would be wise to encourage healing between the two of them anyway. Who knew who Savannah might be as time went on? And at this rate, there soon wouldn’t be an A &A to compete with, anyway.
SAVANNAH SAT IN THE ROCKING chair on the second story porch and watched the peach trees sway in unison with the wind. She pulled the quilt tighter around her shoulders and reluctantly admitted the weather was turning too cool to sit outside. She retreated to her room down the hall, quilt still around her shoulders, and shut herself in the Spartan room before she ran into anyone. She’d talked to a few others since arriving, and everyone was very gracious and kind, even those who recognized her name. But she didn’t feel like she could truly relate to them, given she had no real reason for hating God the way she did, and she was reluctant to give them the impression that she empathized completely with their situation. She chose instead to wander the main rooms during the group activities when everyone else was engaged, and kept her interactions with others limited to meals.
Boredom was becoming a problem, however. And boredom eventually led to her thinking, and thinking eventually led her to dwelling on her future, which she was loathe to consider. She was tired of reading, tired of sleeping, tired of staring at the orchard from the porch. What she really wanted to do was cook.
The food at The Refuge had been excellent so far. More than once Savannah had wanted to venture behind the swinging wood door and talk shop with Aniyah, the Creole woman Tabitha claimed was the best undiscovered treasure in the world of Southern cuisine. Savannah agreed, and had offered her thanks to the cook more than once when she’d brought out another plate of food to the long table where everyone ate together. But she hadn’t been ready to risk the possibility of an actual conversation that might turn to spiritual things, which was likely given the nature of The Refuge, especially when talking with people who had gone through the program. Aniyah had done that four years ago. She’d just never left.
Savannah looked around the room once more, just in case something interesting had materialized when she hadn’t been looking. No dice. She headed for the kitchen.
Aniyah played Motown girl groups as she worked. The music could be heard through most of the first floor unless multiple doors were closed between you and her. She sang along with a voice that rivaled Diana Ross’s and delivered just as much soul. Savannah paused outside the door, reluctant to interrupt the karaoke cooking. She waited for the song to end, her mouth watering at the scent that wafted under the door, and when “Ain’t No Mountain” faded to silence she slowly entered.
Three giant steel pots sat on the industrial sized range, steam billowing to the copper hood above them. Four squat rice cookers stood in a line on the counter, and at the island stood Aniyah, her fists punching bread dough in a huge ceramic bowl. “Well, now, looking for a snack? Don’t ruin your appetite for dinner, now, or you’ll be sorry when the gumbo comes around and you don’t have room.”
Savannah was six years old again, peeking into her grandmother’s kitchen in the hours leading up to a big family meal. It was the place where she first came to love the principles of good cooking-fresh ingredients, combined with skill and attention to detail, to nourish those you loved. Aniyah couldn’t have been more than forty, but her stout form conjured memories of Savannah’s Mimi, and she exuded a wisdom and authority that set Savannah back to feeling like a child eager to help and showcase her own budding abilities. But unlike her grandmother, who would shoo her from her workspace with a hand-embroidered tea towel when she spilled the flour or over-mixed the cake batter, Aniyah reached out a hand and said, “My sidekick is out sick, and I’m drowning in the details today. If you’re looking for something to do, come on in and lend a hand.”
Savannah smiled and let the door swing closed behind her. “It smells amazing in here. Seafood gumbo?”
“Aye-ya. And they need stirring. Spoon’s on the counter.”
Grateful for the chance to help, she stepped quickly to the range and located the hefty wooden spoon that rested on a coaster. She breathed deeply, savoring the scent of the gumbo as she stirred. Chunks of vegetables and shrimp were visible through the broth. Her stomach rumbled. “I don’t suppose I’ll get a sneak preview for lending a hand?”
Aniyah laughed as she cut the dough into four sections and spaced them out along the island top. “You dip in there early. I ain’t gonna stop you.”
“What else can I do when I’m done here?” Savannah asked as she stirred the second pot.
“Grab an apron from the drawer so you don’t get messy.”
Savannah grinned. “This sounds fun. What am I making?”
“Beignets.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of those! I’ve always wanted to try one.”
Aniyah chuckled. “Aw, you in for a treat then! The dough is in the fridge. Take it out and dust up the island with some of this here flour. Then turn out the dough and roll it. Pin’s in the island drawer on the left.”
Giddy, Savannah followed Aniyah’s instructions, relishing the weight of the hefty wooden rolling pin in her hands and the feeling of usefulness that fed her hungry soul. She rolled out the dough until Aniyah’s practiced eye pronounced it thin enough, then hunted down a pizza cutter as her mentor instructed. “Two inch squares. Though I ain’t gonna smack ya if you make them a little bigger.”
“Only two inches? We’re going to have piles of these.”
“Oh yes, but they go quick! You’ll see when you have ‘em.” She tsked and muttered, “Never had a beignet.”
“Well, I’m from Colorado.”
“That accent ain’t.”
Savannah chuckled, pushing the pizza cutter through the dough. “No, that’s true. I was born in South Carolina. But my mother wasn’t a fan of fried foods.”
Aniyah gave her a look. “Was she from Colorado?”
“No, just health conscious.”
“Mm, mm, mm.” Aniyah shook her head. “A shame, that is.” She finished greasing the pan and set the French bread loaves on it. “Healthy is important, but enjoying food is underrated. And some foods, you just gotta ignore how bad they are for you so you can have a little enjoyment. Ain’t no one I know enjoyed asparagus the way they enjoy a cookie.”
Savannah chuckled. “True.”
Aniyah slid the pan into the oven, then carried her mixing bowl to the sink and ran the water onto the mountain of dishes. “So how come you in here and not in with the others? You skipping out on therapy?”
Savannah winced inside as she rolled another line into the dough. She hadn’t expected to get the third degree from the cook. “I’m not actually… attending The Refuge. I’m an old friend of Tabitha’s.”
“Ain’t that nice. That woman. Mm.” She put a sudsy hand to her heart. “She saved my life, she did. Lord bless her.”
“Saved your life? How? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
“Aw no, I’s an open book. Nothing to hide, and maybe something I say helps someone else, right?” She scrubbed a pot, her strong arms flexing with the effort. “I’s born in the Bayou, see, and my mama be a sorceress.”
Savannah gaped. “Seriously?”
“Aw yeah!” She looked at Savannah and laughed. “Not a lot of backwoods witches in Colorado, eh?”
“Well, Wicca is pretty popular, especially up north, but… you’re talking about voodoo, right?”
“That’s right. She made up spells for folks, charms and dolls too.”
“Like, voodoo dolls? People actually use those?”
“Aye-ya. All the time.” She rinsed off the pot and set it on the massive drying rack. “Anyway, she got real sick, and neighbors took her to the hospital one night, even though she didn’t want to go, kept saying she’d heal herself. But she’d been getting real bad real quick, and they didn’t wanna take the chance of her dying. They asked me later did I want to visit her, and I knew she’d be wanting some of her charms and talismen, so I brought them with. The doctor, he saw them, because I wasn’t careful enough – I didn’t know that most people thought voodoo was evil. Well, next day, these people show up at my door and take me away!”
“Into foster care?”
“Yup. They put me with an auntie I never knew I had, and she knew about my mama being a sorceress. She insisted I was doing voodoo too, even though I wasn’t. She figured I was as evil as my mama just from living under her roof. So she tried to make me holy so’s I wouldn’t go to hell. Drug me to her church and dunked me in their pool, made me copy out the Bible whenever I did wrong, and whipped me something merciless when I did something real bad. Which wasn’t too often, I can tell you, but she thought it was more often than it was.”
She shook her head, rinsing off a steel bowl and setting it beside the pot before setting in on another. “I never did see my mama again. I’d never left the Bayou before going to see her at the hospital, and I didn’t know where auntie’s house was compared to home. Mama had done my school at home, and so did auntie, so I didn’t have the chance to run away until I was older. But soon as I could, I did. I was sixteen. Just took off, middle of the night, with my sewing bag full of food and an extra change of clothes. Well, and the money I stole from her – I’d started taking a dollar here, couple quarters there, for two years, knowing I’d need something when I finally had the chance to go.
“I knew how to get to town from her place, so’s I just started walking. Got there at dawn and waited at the bus depot ‘til it opened. Bought a ticket to New Orleans and told myself I was never going back.” She ran her hands beneath the water to rid them of suds, then dried them and nodded to the island in front of Savannah. “You done with those?”
“Oh-yes, sorry. Do we fry them now?”
“Aw no, I do that when y’all are finishing your dinner. Want them to be nice and hot when you eat them or they just aren’t as good.”
“Can I help you?”
“No need, no need. But thank you for the offer.” She dampened a towel, rung it out, and laid it over the dough squares. “You oughtta get cleaned up for dinner. You got flour on your face.”
“Is it time for dinner already?” Savannah lifted the apron over her head. “Thanks for letting me help you out. I’ve been going a little stir crazy lately.”
Aniyah raised her brows, giving her a look. “Stir crazy? Here? Aw, you ain’t digging deep enough if you be getting bored. This place is touched by God. He changes you here. But you gotta want to be changed, I think, before he does it.”
Bristling but not wanting to show it, Savannah hung the apron on the back of the door before backing halfway out of the kitchen in retreat. “I’m looking forward to trying that gumbo.”
Aniyah’s grin grew wider and she chuckled at her with a shake of her finger. “That’s right, you keep running, sister. Run out that door and get yourself spiffed for supper. Just remember God can always run faster than you.”
ANIYAH HAD BEEN RIGHT-the beingets were heaven. After having what she justified as a reasonable serving of them, Savannah went back to the kitchen to help with the clean up. It was a quick job with both of them working-Aniyah had cleaned all the baking dishes while the Refugees had been eating, and there were hardly any leftovers. After turning on the dishwasher Aniyah hung up her apron, packed a canvas shopping bag with the remains of dinner, and went home.
Savannah stole back to her room, eyes trained on the floor as though deep in thought to avoid conversation. Once safely alone, she sat heavily on the bed and sighed. Two hours until bedtime at least-what to do until then?
On the small writing desk in the corner sat the yellow envelope she’d gotten from Marisa. She still hadn’t opened it. She avoided thinking too much about A &A. But it had to be done eventually, and sorting it would be a decent way to pass the time.
She emptied the contents onto the bed-eight letters altogether, but one in particular caught her eye. The envelope was pink, with an embossed flower in the corner. It smelled faintly of a perfume that seemed familiar, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. She ripped it open and slid out the single sheet of paper-pink and embossed liked the envelope-covered in both sides with slanted blue cursive. The scent of the perfume was calming.
Dear Mrs. Trover,
This is a very difficult letter to write, mostly because I will be very embarrassed if I am wrong. But I feel in my heart that I’m right, and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t follow that impression.
My brother, Charlie, was living in Boulder at the time of his death back in August. As his only living kin, I was notified of his passing by the hospital where he was taken after his car accident. They told me he had chosen to be an organ donor, and I was pleased to hear that- his life had not amounted to much, and I felt like it was a second chance for him, to be able to help someone else to live their life.
A month after the accident I was at a women’s tea at my church, and your ministry came up in conversation. Someone mentioned you’d undergone a heart transplant, and I can’t explain why, but I felt compelled to find whatever details were public about your procedure. I bought your new book, and when I discovered your surgery occurred the night my brother died, I couldn’t help but think it was more than mere coincidence.
I’ve done a little bit of research about transplants, and I’ve learned that the recipient often wishes he or she could contact the family of the donor. I don’t know if you feel that way or not, but if you do, I want you to know I would love to meet you. I’m including my contact information, but please do not feel any pressure to write or call. I’m just sure you received Charlie’s heart, and I’m content knowing that it went to someone like you; I will not be offended if you don’t want to contact me.
I pray that every day is a blessing, and that Charlie’s heart allows you to live a long, full life in service to the Lord. (It would be quite the irony if it did, believe me. But with God, all things are possible!) God bless you and your ministry – I pray for you every day.
Sincerely,
Lori Bates
A torrent of emotions rolled over her. She’d stopped consciously wondering about her donor weeks ago, but faced with the chance to learn about him she felt almost desperate for information. And an inexplicable fondness for this Lori drove her to inhale again the scent wafting from the stationery.
But this woman believed Savannah to be-well, who everyone thought she was. She sounded so happy to know Savannah was a good Christian woman – would Lori be angry if she knew Savannah wasn’t? Didn’t her life count for something even if she wasn’t speaking to capacity crowds and writing bestsellers? Or even if she didn’t believe in God?
Her hand hovered over her cell phone. She’d have to fake the good Christian woman stuff if she went to meet her-and she definitely wanted to meet her. Could she do it?
Only one way to find out.
Hand trembling, she dialed the number. When a woman answered she knew it was her without even asking. “Lori, this is Savannah Trover.”
She heard a gasp, then Lori laughed. “Oh my stars, Savannah, it is so nice of you to call.”
“I can’t thank you enough for your note. I wish I could explain how much it means to me.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Thank you.”
“If you were serious about meeting-”
“I was, absolutely.”
“What are you doing Friday?”
After hanging up with Lori, she called the airline and arranged her flight, then called the car rental company. She gave them her credit card number, then let her mind wander while she was on hold. She was pulled from her daydream by the customer representative’s apology and had to ask her to repeat it.
“I’m sorry, but that card isn’t going through.”
“It’s not?” She read the number off again.
“Still not working, I’m sorry. Do you want to cancel the reservation or try another card?”
Savannah huffed in frustration. “Try another card.” She dug out the card she rarely used and read off the number.
“That worked. Thank you.”
She finished making the reservation, then hung up and stared at her credit card. “That’s just not right,” she muttered. She dialed Shaun’s number but got his voicemail. “It’s me,” she said. “I just tried to use the Visa and it wouldn’t go through. Any idea what that’s about? Did you cancel it for some reason? Let me know.”
She’d never had a card denied before. Certainly it was a mistake of some kind. Perhaps Shaun had lost his card and had to cancel them, and had just forgotten to tell her.
She nodded to herself. Yes, that made sense. He probably didn’t think she’d need to use the card on the trip, so he hadn’t bothered to let her know. That must be it.
Unless it’s maxed out.
The thought almost made her laugh aloud. Almost. They had a ridiculously high credit limit on it, there was no way they’d reached it.
Right?