Why didn’t God give her a man of faith like her dad?
She let the pages fall open. She had marked Jeremiah 16:19 on the night she sat in the waiting room when her son had almost died. “‘The Lord is my strength and my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.’” Her soft words helped fill the emptiness.
Jake had given her that verse on the way to the ambulance. God would be her refuge. She moved to the last door in the tiny hall. Her son was hurting. She grew up with two sisters and had no idea how to deal with an eleven-year-old boy that wanted his father.
He’d gotten so angry when she told him he wouldn’t be going to Tommy’s wedding. He blamed her for everything, the divorce, his father’s leaving, his trouble with Rachel.
She protected the children from the worst of the betrayals, but she was losing her son.
Tommy wanted to focus on his new bride without the kids around. Her fingers gripped the edges of the cherished Bible. Of course, he made her tell the kids.
Leaning her forehead against the handmade warning sign taped to his door, she softly prayed. “God, please lift me up to be the kind of mother my children need. Cover Seth and Ashley in your love.”
The trailer filled with heavy silence. She laid a hand against the plastic trim to support her now-weak legs. “I love Seth and Ashley so much. Thank you for the gift of being their mother.” She waited for a heartbeat...two... “Help me use the right words with them to heal any hurts.”
The phone rang. Instead of answering, she moved to the freezer and pulled out the vanilla ice cream.
“Victoria Maria, it’s your mother.” Her mother’s sweet Texas drawl was leftover from her Dallas debutante days.
She was getting better at ignoring it.
“I need to talk to you about Seth.” Her mother continued. “I know you’re in that trailer.”
Vickie could hear the disgust in her mother’s tone. Each time she came to the house, her mother looked around the room as if she had found a roach running across the toes of her high-heeled shoes. Vickie closed her eyes and waited.
“Victoria Maria Miller, pick up.”
Elizabeth Marie Lawson never screamed, shouted or yelled, but she had a voice of steel and she expected to be obeyed.
With a heavy sigh, Vickie picked up the landline with one hand and used the other to fill her mouth with ice cream.
She knew it was a petty form of rebellion, but it felt good to answer while still chewing.
“Mother, I’m not his wife anymore....” She made sure to swallow loudly, “and I’m back to Lawson.”
“Are you eating while talking to me?”
Vickie put the spoon in the sink. “Sorry, Mama.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not sure if going back to Lawson is the best thing for the children. They should have the same last name as their mother. I think it is upsetting Seth.”
“Mom, everything upsets Seth.” She wanted to curl up in bed, pull the blankets over her head and not listen to her mother’s lecture. “Mom, it’s been a really long day. Is Seth okay? Do I need to pick him up?”
“No, no. I think it’s good for him to be around his grandfather. He needs a strong man of faith in his life. We were praying for his father, and Seth said you won’t talk to Tommy when he calls.”
“Mom, Tommy is getting married in less than a week.” She hung her head and rubbed her forehead. “Please don’t encourage Seth in the idea his father is coming back.”
On the counter, her cell phone started vibrating.
“Victoria, he should...”
“Sorry to cut you off, Mom, but Lorrie Ann is on my cell. I should take it.”
“Oh, I hope everything is okay. Why would she be calling you?”
“I don’t know. Love you, bye.” With a flip of her thumb, she received the call while hanging up on her mother.
“Lorrie Ann?” She couldn’t image why Pastor Levi’s fiancée was calling her. Slight nausea rolled her stomach. In Vickie’s darkest moments, she delivered some of her ugliest words straight at Lorrie Ann. Bitterness, jealously and anger filled her thoughts just two months ago. Embarrassment made her want to disconnect the call.
“Hi, Vickie. Sorry to be calling late, but I was organizing my weekly schedule. I have a couple of ideas I would love to talk to you about. Could I come over Friday night? It’s about the wedding and the youth program.” She laughed. “Right now it seems everything in my life is about the wedding. Would seven o’clock work for you? Oh, sorry. I’m being a little pushy. Between Aunt Maggie, my mom and Yolanda, not to mention every woman in the church who sees John as their adopted son, I’m going a little crazy.”
“Um...no problem. You can come over.” Vickie had no idea what to say. “You’re always welcome here, and I owe you so much. Whatever you need, sign me up.”
“Be careful what you say. I will hold you to it. See you Friday, and please have an open mind. Bye.”
Vickie ended the call and sat there on the tall stool, looking at the phone. Twelve years ago, she had been jealous of Lorrie Ann and Jake’s friendship, and pulled the mean-girl trick. She started lies about the girl she considered a rival. Hurtful, horrible lies and when they grew, she remained silent. She didn’t do any better when Lorrie Ann came back to town over three months ago. Her eyes started to burn.
Somehow she was the girl everyone hated, but they were too afraid to say anything to her. The idea of someone treating her children like that tore at her heart.
She took a deep breath. Take the good in. She exhaled, pushing her lungs until they burned. Forcing all the bad out. “God, thank You for this opportunity to make it right.”
Friday arrived too soon. Tonight Lorrie Ann Ortega would be in Vickie’s trailer. She swallowed down the butterflies that fluttered up from her stomach. Maybe she should call her and meet somewhere in town. No, doing this in public might even be worse.
Vickie practiced her apology, but it never sounded right. Putting away the clean dishes in the cabinet, she checked the small living room to make sure it was as clean and neat as she could get it. Jake’s sturdy jacket lay over the back of one of the ladder-backed chairs. Picking it up, she ran her hand over the brown fabric.
Maybe she should take it to him. Vickie imagined showing up at his house. Would he welcome her or ask her to leave?
Okay, now she was overanalyzing returning a jacket. As she hung the coat in the hall closet, she heard a vehicle pull up to her drive.
Checking her clock, she figured it was Adrian. He had volunteered to pick up Ashley and take her to the regular horse club meeting.
Her daughter stomped from the tiny hallway. “Mom, my boots hurt my feet.”
She hunched down in front of Ashley and checked the toes of the red boots. She sighed. Sure enough, the little toes pushed against the rounded end of the boots. She did a quick calculation of her next paycheck versus bills to be paid. Well, there went the last bit of her savings. “Sweetheart, they’re too small for you. You’re going to have to wear your tennis shoes until we can get you some more.”
“I can just curl my toes.” She looked down, her hair covering her face. “See. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Oh, baby, you can’t wear shoes too small. You’re not riding tonight, so go get your tennis shoes.”
As Ashley stomped back to her room, she heard a