17. LEARNING TO TRUST

The car chirped as the key was activated and Charity drew open the passenger door. She removed something from beneath the seat and handed it to her friend, who turned into the streetlight to reveal a pair of baby slippers. �Consider it a sign of faith,� she said softly, a smile crossing her face. �I�ve had suspicions for quite some time. It�s the glow of motherhood.� She hugged her friend warmly and said farewell to Garrett with an outstretched hand. Crossing to the car as the others pulled from the parking lot, she hesitated a moment before slipping inside.

Richard watched as she put the key in the ignition but did not start the engine. Charity rested her gloved fingers on the steering wheel and closed her eyes for a moment. He inquired, �Would you like me to drive?�

�I�m fine.� She locked the doors and started the engine, letting it sit and warm in the frosty air. Richard watched her perceptively and said, �I know you too well to believe that. Let me drive.�

�Richard,� she said testily, �do you want to ride in the back seat?�

�Not unless you climb back there with me,� he replied mischievously.

Her lips twitched and she shifted gears, pulling out onto the busy street. Christmas lights twinkled from the houses beyond the fairway, illuminating the sign that lead into the gated community where they resided. Her husband rested his arm on the door, long fingers thoughtfully smoothing his brow, as he did whenever in contemplation. Both were abnormally silent, troubled with different occurrences. As they passed slowly down the winding lanes, the headlights illuminated the yards of their neighbors.

Pulling into the garage and unlocking the side door, Charity flipped on the light at the foot of the stairs. She hit the machine on the way past to the kitchen, folding her coat over the edge of the sofa, and it ran through a succession of messages. Richard dropped onto the couch and watched his wife as she ran through her evening routine of checking the heaters, locking the doors, sorting through the mail, and putting everything in order. She came to sit beside him, only to pop up a moment later with, �I forgot��

�Charity, would you just sit still for one minute?� he demanded, his hand on her arm preventing her from flight. She settled on the couch and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. The wedding ring on her finger glimmered softly in the light originating from the tree in the far corner of the room. �I�m sorry,� she said. �I realize you had a difficult afternoon. Would you like to tell me about it?�

�A corrupt policeman was acquitted because of a technicality. Does that make you feel safer at night?� There was such an edge to his tone that she did not immediately respond, her graceful fingertips toying with the edge of his collar. Then she sat up to meet his challenging gaze, brushing a golden curl behind her ear as she said, �I feel safe at night because you are here, Richard. You do your job, and you do it well. You lost a case. It is unfortunate, but not the end of the world. You must trust there will be justice.�

�And hope he doesn�t hurt anyone else.� He tugged angrily on his tie and she caught his hand, her voice deepening with amusement as she said, �Don�t take it out on the tie. It did nothing to damage your case. If he does hurt anyone else, you will be there to nail his sorry hide to the wall. You have never been able to trust, Richard. You must learn to trust.�

�What about you? Carissa told you something tonight that clearly unnerved you.�

Her smile faded slightly and she settled back beside him, compulsively folding the tie. �She said there are complications with the pregnancy. I went through that once, Richard. Waiting, praying, standing by the phone hoping it wouldn�t happen� and then the call came and there was nothing I could do. There is nothing I can do, aside from tying her to a chair for six months. We cannot live our lives in fear of what must happen. We must do whatever we can and hope God will honor our intentions.�

The gas fireplace continued to burn in the background, drawing his fascination as he pondered her words. A faint chiming came from the grandfather clock in the hall, announcing the lateness of the hour, and she got up, extending her hand to him. Snow drifted outside the windowpane, shifting against the glass as the hours passed, and she was half asleep when his phone went off. It was set to vibrate and she heard its persistent hum in the pocket of her husband�s jacket where it was carelessly tossed over the back of the nearest chair. Sleepily she brushed the hair out of her eyes and leaned out of bed, searching the pockets until it fell into her hand.

The caller ID identified a business colleague and she pressed it to her ear. Richard was asleep at her side. �Paul, it�s two in the morning!� she complained.

�I know� I�m sorry, Mrs. Daven, but I thought it was best your husband know as soon as possible.� He went on and the expression on her face altered from groggy annoyance to disbelief. Her hand shook as she closed the phone and looked down at her sleeping husband. Then she placed it on the nightstand and sank back into the pillows.