The Heart of Memory

experiment, to see what might happen. It struck her that praying for a release from the emotions might be the next thing she needed to do.

She wasn’t sure if screaming at Jesus counted as praying to him. If it didn’t, then it had been three months since she’d uttered anything to God. She wasn’t sure she was ready to try yet.

Savannah turned back toward the house. Tabitha would be finishing up lunch, the rest of the Refugees heading out to do whatever they chose to do while waiting for their individual therapy appointments. Maybe she and Tabitha could hide away somewhere and Tabitha could try praying for her again. Maybe even aloud.

The thought was not repulsive. That was a good sign.

SAVANNAH WAS IN A GOOD mood. It felt almost foreign, but she wasn’t one to deny a gift the universe (or, dare she consider it – God) had given her. Dinner had been eaten, Tabitha had prayed over her and she had lived to tell, and she was feeling cautiously hopeful that things might eventually turn out okay.

She decided to call Shaun. It was hard talking to him these days without feeling defensive, but she was feeling more amiable than she had in months, and maybe that would make all the difference. She sat out on the patio in her favorite rocking chair and hoped he was home.

“Hello?”

Savannah was surprised. “Jessie, hi honey. It’s Mom.”

“What do you want?”

She stopped rocking. “Well, I’m fine, thanks. How are you?”

“Oh, just peachy. The entire campus is ostracizing me and they’re threatening to kick me out for unpaid tuition. So I saved them all the trouble and just moved home.”

The pain in Jessie’s voice was loud and clear. Savannah ached with every word. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever. If you were sorry you wouldn’t have done all this.”

“Jessie, I know it’s hard to understand what’s going on -”

“I’m not six, Mother, don’t talk to me like this is some big grown-up problem that little me can’t understand. You bailed on every commitment you had and left everyone to clean up after you.”

“Jessica, please understand. There’s more going on here than my issues. Your dad -”

“Don’t try to drag Dad down with you. You two are so dysfunctional, I swear! You’re trying to implicate him, he’s trying to defend you -”

“Defend me?”

“ – it makes me sick.”

The line went dead. Savannah gaped at the cell, head spinning. Things were apparently worse than she’d believed them to be, that much was clear. And with her daughter practically disowning her, Savannah knew it was time to go home. She had to get to the bottom of Shaun’s role in all this, and do whatever she could to salvage her relationship with Jessie.

She went in and began packing, but stopped when she realized she was picking and choosing what to bring back. This isn’t home. You can’t assume Tabitha can or will hold this room for you. Who knows when you’ll be back. Or if.

But was she ready to move on? She didn’t feel ready. Though, as you’ve already discovered, emotions can lie. But what would Tabitha say about her using the place like a hotel, just coming and going as she pleased?

She debated, frozen in the middle of the room with a pair of cargo pants in her hands, then slowly folded them and placed them into the duffel. I can always bring it all back. She stuffed the last shirt into the bag and zipped her books into the side pockets, then brought the bag downstairs and sought out Tabitha.

“I have to go home. Jessie left school and something’s going on with Shaun.”

Tabitha gave her a hug. “I’ll cancel my therapy sessions and drive you to the airport. When’s your flight?”

“I didn’t even make one. I’m just going to find the first plane I can get on.”

Tabitha tracked down Jim, the other resident therapist, and told him her plans, then ushered Savannah to the passenger van that sat in the barn-like garage. “May I pray aloud?” she asked as they turned onto the main road.

“Um… yes.”

Savannah gazed out the window at the scenery they passed as Tabitha kept up her spiritual assault on the plans of the enemy to destroy Savannah and her family. She was trying not to listen, but even though Tabitha kept her voice low, every word seemed to seep in. She didn’t feel uncomfortable, though. Oddly, the prayers made her feel safe. Maybe she had truly reached a turning point. Maybe she was ready to leave.

SAVANNAH ENTERED HER HOME JUST before ten p.m. No one called out; she heard no sounds at all. She’d been gone less than two weeks but she felt like an intruder.

She stood in the foyer, determining her next move. She checked the garage and neither Shaun’s nor Jessie’s cars were there. No point trying to track down Jessie; who knew where she might be, and she’d come home eventually. So would Shaun – and if she wanted to do any snooping, she’d best do it before then.

She left her bag by the door and went into Shaun’s office. She had never cased someone’s private space before. She walked around the room, eyes peeled for anything suspicious, though she didn’t know what that might be. Finally she sat down at his desk and began to open drawers. Now she really felt like an intruder.

Office supplies, software, files for the bills and insurance papers. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. She tried the drawers on the other side of the desk. The top one was empty. The bottom one was locked.

She searched for a key but found none. She opened the empty drawer again and examined the rails on which it slid, looking for a way to remove it. With some jiggling it finally came free, and she was able to peer down into the drawer below. A manila file, a binder, and a CD sat inside.

She pulled them out and opened the folder. Inside were four letters from the IRS, dated six years back. The first notified him that A &A was being audited because of suspicious tax filings their first two years in business. The second informed him of the amount due. The last two were late notices for those payments.

Savannah didn’t know A &A had ever been audited. How could Shaun have kept that from her? And how did he keep it from her?

She looked again at the letter stating the amount owed. It was larger than she would have expected. Had Shaun not paid any of their taxes those years?

Next she opened the binder. It turned out to be an executive checkbook, where only a few of the checks seemed to be missing. The stubs were all blank, there was nothing indicating what the checks had been made out for. The address was A &A’s.

Her hands went clammy. She’d seen the kinds of paychecks the staff got. They didn’t look like these. Neither did the reimbursement checks. What were these used for-and why were there apparently two sets of checkbooks?

Then she took the CD out of its case. There was nothing indicating what had been burned to it. She turned on his computer, then inserted the disc and waited for it to boot up. When she brought up the list of drives, the CD was listed as A &A Financials. She opened it, which launched the budgeting program Shaun used for the ministry. Spreadsheets and pie charts popped up on the screen. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she clicked around anyway, hoping something would stand out.

It did.

Here and there on the spreadsheet were amounts highlighted in blue. They were unlabeled, and did nothing when she clicked on them. All were fairly small; the largest was only $12.53. She counted them, flipping from one worksheet to another, until the total was over fifty and the amount equaled just over $450. What on earth?

She glanced back into the drawer, hoping she’d missed something that might give her more information. She saw it in the back. Another checkbook.

The checks inside contained only Shaun’s name, and their home address. The next check number was 118. Didn’t they usually start at 101? Seventeen checks missing, most likely, and no duplicates. Shaun had never told her he had a separate checking account.

She picked up the checkbooks to put them back in the drawer, and a loose check slipped out of the back of the smaller book. It had been partially filled out, then scribbled over as though to void it; the written-out version of the