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The Secret Cove
by Elisabeth Hewitt Bantz
"The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him, and he will shew them his covenant."
Psalm 24:14
FOREWORD
I wish I could be certain my daughter was safe. I hate having to leave her while I work.
It's Saturday, and I'm the only one in the office except for the cleaning and security crews. We put the magazine to bed yesterday and most sensible people would be home with their families. But I'm here getting ready to do an interview for my next novel, something I do on the side, nights and weekends, when I'm not tracking down features for Christian Women NOW.
My venture into novel-writing began last year after meeting Ruth Solomon ("Aunt Ruth" to most people), the spunkiest 95-year-old widow you'd ever want to meet. Her life seemed to epitomize the theme of our magazine ---Christian women nurturing other women --- so when I presented my proposal for writing her story as a novel to my publisher, she gave me the green light. Family Secrets has gone to press and now I've got to start on a sequel.
Now that sounds like I'm dreading it, which I'm not. I love writing. In fact, I'm looking forward to meeting Aunt Ruth's niece Rachel and her husband David, and putting their story onto paper. It's just that I dislike having to be away from Jamie. I know she loves hanging out with Grandma and Grandpa Brown, but they just don't take Jim's threats seriously enough, and he could easily talk his way into their house and walk away with Jamie regardless of what his restraining order says.
"Kinzey, dear, you mustn't worry. Your little girl is just fine," my mother said just moments ago on the phone. "She's out in the kitchen making cookies with Grandpa."
"This is serious, Mom," I said. "You know Jim's tried to lure Jamie from the preschool playground, not once, but twice. You've never seen how violently he reacts when he doesn't get his way like I have."
Recalling my last terrifying clash with him made my hand shake so hard, I almost dropped the phone.
"We'll be careful, of course, Kinzey, but you've got to see things from his perspective, too. How would you feel if you were ordered to stay away from your daughter?"
"I'd feel frantic. But this is different. He doesn't want to be with her because he loves her. No! Having her would mean he'd have control of me, and that's what he's after. I don't know how he camouflaged this obsession while we were dating. Oh, I can't worry about that now. I'm expecting clients. Just be on guard, Mom. I'll talk to you soon. And thanks for watching Jamie today."
Why am I knocking myself out working here on my day off? I had thought that becoming a published novelist would have made Jim proud of me, but instead it's made him angrier. I guess he can't stand to see me successful when he can't keep a stead job. Oh, why did I ever marry him? How could I have been so gullible?
"What's done is done," Ruth Solomon would say. "Now let's see what God can make of it."
Such a dear woman Aunt Ruth is. I'm ashamed to admit I don't have her kind of faith. She'd say, '''But my God shall supply all your needs according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.' Philippians 4:19" (She always quotes the reference with the verse, like a talking concordance.)
I covered my face with my hands in utter frustration and offered up a silent prayer. "Oh God, I wish I believed You'd supply all my needs. Lord, help my unbelief. I not only have to ask you to straighten out the mess I've made of my life, but I have to ask you to give me the faith as well."
When I opened my eyes, my guests were standing in the doorway.
"Mr. and Mrs. Christianson---" I stood on wobbly legs, held out my hand and introduced myself: "Kinzey White. Please come in."
The lady who entered and shook my hand looked much to young to have a 30-year-old son. Petite, elegantly dressed, with perfect skin, she wore her dark, wavy hair pulled up with combs on each side. It showed little signs of graying.
He, on the other hand, was dressed too casually to be a high school principal and accomplished author with a PhD. Tall, athletic, and too totally relaxed. It was hard for me to tell if his rumpled hair was very blonde or turning white. "It's good of you to come."
"We're glad to oblige," Dr. Christianson said, shaking my hand. "Aunt Ruth let us read the galley proofs of her book, and we like the way you've written her story."
"I agree," Mrs. Christianson said. "I never realized my aunt had gone through so much, or that she had touched so many lives before I came to live with her. But we're still not sure why you wanted to see us."
"Sit here by my desk, and I'll clear that up. As I explained on the phone, while the first book goes to press, I'd like to start on a sequel, and I believe your story is the one I'd like to feature. With the appropriate anonymity safeguards, of course. The bits and pieces you aunt has told me have me intrigued. She seemed to think you'd be willing to tell me how you two met, and all that."
Rachel (I think of her as Rachel since Aunt Ruth has mention her so often) glanced at her husband with a questioning look on her face. He returned the gaze and I watched as they communicated with their eyes. I sensed they had reached some sort of agreement when they turned in unison to face me.
"Tell us more," David Christianson said.
I listed my reasons for choosing them, what I hoped to accomplish, and the business side of the deal. "The reason I asked you to come to my office this morning is because I have a new PC that's voice-activated; I won't have to transcribe any more interviews from my tape recorder. The computer will type it as we speak. I was hoping to try it out on you, if you don't mind. It's hard to believe my last year's model is already outdated. Technology is moving faster than I'm able to keep up these days."
"I know what you mean," David replied. "Our computers at Community Christian School are much more out of date than that. Did you want to interview us now? Today?"
"I was hoping you would have time to at least begin today. You see, weekends are the only times I get to work here on my novels. I'm a features editor for NOW, but they let me use this office during off-hours since their parent company in Chicago is the one that publishes my books. I realize you have a business to run, Mrs. Christianson, so if this is not a convenient time. . . ." I let my sentence drop off.
"Call me Rachel, please, and don't worry about my shop. I have a very efficient partner handling it."
"Is now a good time for you, Dr. Christianson, or do you have 'Principal' things to do?"
"The name is David. Well, actually it's not, but let's not go there. Everyone calls me David. And to answer your question, now is fine with me. What would you like to know?"
I clicked on the computer's record button and began. "Mr. Christianson, uh, David, Aunt Ruth tells me you met your son Ben for the first time when Rachel registered him for Kindergarten at your school," I said, checking my notes to see if I had the details correct.
An envelope fell out of my notebook and landed in my lap, the envelope Aunt Ruth had given me for safe keeping. I tapped it absentmindedly as I continued. "By the way, I met Ben at Aunt Ruth's one Sunday afternoon. Now I can't wait to hear how you happened to miss the first five years of his life. I've been picturing all kinds of scenarios."
David became reflective. I could see him going back in time a quarter of a century. His facial expressions changed dramatically.
"She left me. That's how it happened. You want to know what it feels like to be abandoned after one day of marriage? . . . to have your wife disappear without a trace? . . . and when you finally reach her, she says she can't see you anymore because she's decided to marry that creep her father had been pressuring her to marry before she eloped with me? I'll tell you what it feels like, it's like open heart surgery without the anesthetic," he said, reliving the pain.
"But he only knew half of the story," Rachel added more calmly. "I only knew half of the story. We were both deceived and manipulated by Harry and Aunt Hazel so they could inherit my father's estate."
I paused, wondering if they were up to the task of dredging up the past, but my curiosity won out. "I'm anxious to hear the whole story, especially the part where your son brings you back together."
