Maybe putting them into daycare would be best. No one would be around to brainwash them with religion.
But it’s the truth.
He winced.
“See, you are having a bad day.”
“It’s okay, Rachel.” Why, oh why, did she have to have such keen observation?
Rachel looked at Bekah and wordless communication passed between them. They got up and placed their little hands on his arms.
“Lord, please help Papa have a good day and protect him. In Jesus Name, Amen.”
“Ah-man,” Bekah echoed.
They gave him a hug and his heart melted.
MICHELLE WALKED UNSTEADILY down the lane. Normally she came here on special occasions, but she needed someone to listen to her. Someone who loved her. Not that her friends didn’t but they had their own lives. She wanted to be connected by love and something deeper. Tangible even.
She made her way by memory, ignoring the immaculately cut grass. Thankfully, no one else was around. She didn’t want anyone intruding. Her chest ached from her conversation with Tanya and for the tears spilled with Jo.
Once upon a time, Michelle had made a promise to her parents to become a lawyer and prosecute every OWI to the fullest extent of the law. She was intent on making sure no one would ever break a family apart again.
Michelle stopped in front of her parents’ headstones and sank to her knees. The marble stones remained free of any debris. The groundskeeper must have cleaned recently. She ran a hand down the tombstone on the left and read the words. The ones she knew by heart.
Michael Alan Thomas, Jr.
Beloved Husband and Father
February 9, 1960 – June 11, 2003
She turned to the one on the right and read the words.
Yolanda Anne James Thomas
Beloved Wife and Mother
May 10, 1963 – June 11, 2003
“Why did you have to die? It’s so unfair.”
Tears streamed down her face, seeming to chase one after the other. It had been awhile since she’d cried at their graves. But today, the injustice was too much to bear. How Chloe could have suggested that their death would bring about any good was insulting.
She looked up in the sky. “Why would You take them from me? And at the same time? Where’s the good in that?”
What was God doing to her?
Michelle took a deep breath and continued talking aloud. She needed to get this off her chest. “Lord, I have no idea what You are doing in my life. I’ve heard that You’re a loving God. That You are supposed to work all things for good. That You have an abundance of grace and that there is such a thing as righteous anger.”
She stilled her hands. “But I just can’t reconcile all those ideas with what I grew up believing. You took my parents away from me and I just don’t see the good in that.” She bit her lip, trying to slow down the flood of tears. “I want them back even though I know that isn’t possible. You know everything, so You know why I chose my job. What I promised them. Why...why would you allow a drunk driver to ask me to represent her? What good would come of that? It would go against everything I believe in.”
A picture of Tanya flitted in her mind. The look of agony on the young woman’s face when she revealed the reason she drank herself into a stupor had been permanently imprinted in her memory bank. “I get her pain, Lord, but she killed someone.”
Like you? A gasp tore from her lips. Were they the same? Everyone has a story. She’d read that somewhere, maybe seen it on social media.
Just like my unborn baby. She clutched her hands to her waist at the memory of the pain. She knew exactly what Tanya meant wishing she could change her decision.
“But there’s no going back,” she whispered. Michelle straightened. “How do you make something good come of that? I just don’t get it, Lord. I have no idea what to do and I’m tired of the everyday weariness that tugs at me. Tanya just brought it all back to the surface.”
Wiping her tears away, she continued. “I’m tired, Lord. I don’t want to be weary any more. I want to be at peace with the past. I want to feel like the future is something to look forward to. But, how can I? Chloe says Your grace knows no bounds, but I feel shackled at every turn.”
She ran her hand along her mother’s name. “I can’t imagine she would be proud of me. My mother would hate what I did.” She looked up into the sky again. “If Your grace is truly that vast, why doesn’t it absolve me of guilt?”
Forgive yourself.
Michelle froze, her hand resting on her mother’s tombstone. Did she hear that? Was that her conscience? She swallowed, feeling the pulse pound in her neck and her palms turn clammy. She wiped her hands against her pinstripe slacks.
“How do I forgive myself? My offense is unforgivable.”
Forgive yourself.
She shook her head, unable to comprehend the Voice, the instruction, or the idea that forgiving herself was an option. Could His grace truly forgive her crimes? Absolve her of guilt? Would representing Tanya give her the freedom from shame she so desperately needed?
No, that was craziness. She needed to make a decision, and needed to do so quickly. Tanya would expect an answer and she had none to give. The irony didn’t escape her. Who would have thought she would be contemplating defending a drunk driver?
Chapter Eighteen
Guy picked up his phone, wondering why Chloe was calling him. He figured any information about Davenport would be relayed through Michelle.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Guy.”
Her voice sounded so small. It was almost child-like in its hesitancy. “Hey, Chloe. Everything all right?”
“I wanted to talk to you about John Davenport.”
“Did Michelle talk to you?”
“She did. I understand
