Faith: Chapter 9

Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.
- James Baldwin

Thursday night came much quicker than Belle wanted. She didn’t know why she ever agreed to go to small group. She still wasn’t back at school, she wasn’t even going to church on Sundays yet. But somehow, Belle had been convinced.

Maybe it was Alex, always coming by and being there - and always asking her to come. Maybe it was that she missed Greta. Whatever the reason, Belle found herself in her piece-of-junk car driving over to Micah’s as if nothing was amiss. She prayed on the way that her presence wouldn’t be the cause of any weird reaction or comments. Belle hadn’t been to small group since before. She had no idea how it would go, and barely knew why she was going there in the first place.

Absently, she thought of Gabe, and the most-recent email he had sent. He was coming home soon. He had been so good to her. This one had also been full of encouragement and love, but most of all sympathy that she was struggling. Belle missed that other places. Her mom still had rarely been compassionate about what she had been through or what she was still facing. All in all, Belle had seen very few of her friends. She was scared of what Andrew and Josh might say.

As Belle drove, she observed the snow-covered bare trees in the darkness around her. She didn’t put music on in the car anymore and instead found solace in the silence. She stopped at a light and waited. When it switched to green, and she didn’t move, the car behind her honked. Belle felt tears rise inside her, as she started driving again. Why did everyone have to be so impatient with her? This was taking a lot to go somewhere that she used to go, and to do it by choice.

Lately, all of Belle’s choices had consisted of either sleeping or watching TV. In between times, she prayed. But that had never been a choice, and certainly wasn’t a choice now. Belle prayed because she had to. It was for the sake of her soul.

The times Alex had visited, they had sometimes gone places, but just the two of them,. Sometimes they went for little walks, sometimes they went to a small local café, where Alex could occasionally persuade Belle to eat something. Other times, Alex drove her to see Greta, and ogled the logo tee shirts she was so fond of. Greta always took one or the other of her breaks and sat down with Belle, and they talked for a little bit. Belle never said, but she was so grateful for the time she got to spend there, and that Alex never minded giving them privacy.

Sighing, Belle continued on her drive, praying her car would keep running long enough to get into Micah’s driveway. She thought of Aly, and wondered if the little girl had forgotten about her by now. She hoped not.

Catching a glimpse of herself in her rearview mirror and felt surprised. Along with everything else, Belle had decided it was a good thing to start wearing make up again. She had gone about the routine as she always had - though mascara was particularly bothersome with her shaky hands. Belle tried to dress well, keeping in mind that she would be around people who she hadn’t seen in a long time. She didn’t want them to worry about her, and knew they would have had she come like she wanted - in her sweats, and without make up.

But she had worn a festive looking red fleece shirt and black jeans. Her hair was back in a simple ponytail, and the black bandana was over the top.

Belle didn’t know why she felt compelled to wear it, but hoped people didn’t hone in on it and decide they wanted it as a centerpiece to their conversation. But Micah and Alex wore them all the time, and nothing was said about them, so Belle tried to relax as she pulled into the driveway, giving her reflection one last cursory glance before she got out of the car.

--

The conversation died the minute Belle came through the door. Whether or not that was because they were discussing her Belle didn’t know, and didn’t care. She found a seat, and hoped Greta would show up. But inside, Belle knew she probably wouldn’t. She rarely came to things apart from Belle; the last couple had been exceptions.

“Look who’s back! Hey, stranger,” Micah greeted coming in from the kitchen.

Belle waved half-heartedly, curling into one corner of the couch.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re taking fashion tips from Micah now,” Jared raised his eyebrows, indicating the bandana.

“No, she’s taking them from me,” Alex insisted, trying to keep the mood light.

Belle fought the urge to cover her head. If any of them knew what was good for them, they would keep their mouths shut about it. She tried to convince herself that if they knew what it represented to her, they wouldn’t have been making jokes about it. It didn’t help much, though.

“I think she looks cute,” Missy offered. “Belle, you look adorable.”

“Thank you,” Belle forced herself to answer, even though she wasn’t feeling thankful.

Belle cringed as Julia came in then. She stopped so suddenly upon seeing Belle that she pitched forward as Kenzie came in behind her.

“Oh, hey Belle,” Kenzie greeted warmly. She doubted Belle would know how missed she had been.

Belle waved a little in return, and Kenzie surprised her by coming over and giving her a big hug. From Julia, Belle only got a cold stare. The kind that she gave Rob and Kylie behind their backs.

The group started, and Mikhail opened in prayer saying how thankful he was for everyone who had been there to celebrate his birthday, and he also asked the Lord to bless their time together.

They talked about forgiveness, and Belle felt as though she were on display. Even when people weren’t looking at her, she felt like they wanted to. Andrew blatantly ignored her, as he had ever since word got out. He hadn’t been to see her and hadn’t stopped to visit. Naively, Belle had first assumed that he, of all her friends, might understand. But he had been one of the first to shun her. Josh asked difficult questions and looked openly at her while asking.

“Is there such a thing as a sin that’s unforgivable?”

“Do you have to ask for forgiveness? Or does God, in His grace, just give it to you?”

Belle kept her eyes down most of the time. She wished she had brought something to do. She used to bring a journal with, out of habit, to take notes or jot things down she might want to remember. Now, Belle wanted to remember nothing and hadn’t even grabbed her Bible before leaving the house.

The topic of choice ended up bringing about many confessions of different things people had yet to forgive themselves for. Jared still hadn’t forgiven himself for driving recklessly and getting into the accident that paralyzed him. Alex admitted she had only recently forgiven her father for years of painful things he had said to her. Belle could feel the room hold its breath as they all awaited her admission. But she stayed silent. She wasn’t about to give them what they wanted to hear.

As they all bowed their heads to pray in closing, Julia spoke up.

“I think we should pray for Belle.”

From the couch, Belle stiffened. She wanted to get up and run out of the room, but she couldn’t move. Against her will, she felt herself walking toward the center of the room where a chair had been put. Belle sat down and held her breath.

In seconds, the room had converged around her. Everywhere, hands reached out to touch her. “No,” she insisted, standing up. “Don’t touch me!”

“Belle,” Julia said knowingly. “I really think you need this. We’re just trying to help.”

“Get away from me!” Belle exclaimed, pushing past all the people and hurrying down the hall to Micah’s bathroom.

Belle seethed silently. Nobody better follow her this time. She had her fill a long time ago of everyone thinking they knew what was best for her. Angrily, she called Greta.

“Hey. What?” Greta answered.

“Why aren’t you here?” Belle demanded pacing the floor. “They’re eating me alive!”

“Wait. You’re at Micah’s? Why?” Greta asked, surprised.

Belle sighed. “I don’t know. ‘Cause I thought you might be here. ‘Cause I had some energy for once. But they’re all over me. They wanna pray me back in or something. Like I’m lost,” Belle said helplessly, sniffling.

“I know you,” Greta said gently. “And I know you’re not lost. And if they think you are, then they’re the screwed up ones, not you.”

Belle smiled a little. “They wanna lay hands on me…”

“If you don’t want ‘em to, tell ‘em that! I would!” Greta insisted.

“I did,” Belle admitted softly.

Greta laughed. “That’s my girl! Stop by my house after, if you want. I’ll be up. As long as your mom won’t have a fit about it.”

“She will probably, but I don’t care.” Belle dismissed.

“At least call her, if you’re planning to be late,” Greta encouraged. She didn’t want things any worse between Belle and her mother than they were already.

“I know. I will,” Belle promised.

Belle eventually came out and found herself practically nose-to-nose with Missy.

Missy stared at her with a piercing look that made Belle uncomfortable. She was dressed the way she always was. Business casual. Suit jacket, nice shirt and slacks. Her curly hair was pulled back severely, the way Belle used to see it when they would get together once a week. Belle could barely remember the last time she’d seen Missy in that context.

“What?” Belle asked, trying to walk around her.

“You tell me,” Missy said seriously, snagging Belle by a sleeve.

Anger surged inside Belle like a fire. “You wanna search me?” Belle challenged. “Do it. You won’t find anything,” she said confidently. “I was on the phone with Greta.”

Taking a deep breath, and wishing she didn’t have to, Missy motioned for Belle to turn her pockets inside out. Without missing a beat she obliged, simultaneously pulling out her shirt pockets.

“Okay,” Missy said finally, stepping aside to let her friend pass.

Belle walked around her without a word.

--

In the kitchen, everyone was milling around eating brownies and ice cream. Belle haunted the edges of conversation, hoping no one would press her about her reluctance to have prayer. She watched Alex dive into her brownie with gusto, and she was grateful that the sight of food no longer made her nauseous.

“Hey, are you okay?” Elise asked from beside her.

Belle hadn’t known she was there and tried not to jump. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You can talk to me, you know? About anything. I’ll be here for you. I’m strong enough to hear it,” she insisted. “Whatever it is.”

“Thanks, that’s nice to know,” Belle said, reaching over to give Elise a hug. “Do you think I look weird with this?” she asked self-consciously, touching the bandana.

Elise shook her head. “Why do they even care about that? No one cares when Micah or Alex or Kenzie wears one.”

“I know,” Belle agreed.

“Do you want a brownie?” Elise asked. “Or are you still not feeling hungry.”

“Not really,” Belle admitted. “But that does look like a good one.”

Elise took it out of the bowl and offered it to Belle, who took a tiny bite off the corner.

“Mm, that is good,” Belle said. “Who brought these?”

“I did,” Elise confessed. “I made them.”

Belle’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re like a chef now! You should host your own show on Food Network or something,” she said, smiling.

Elise looked confused. “No cable, remember. And even when we did have it, I never watched any food channel…”

Belle nodded. “Yeah, I’ve kind of been a couch potato. But I have lots of recipes if you want to use one sometime.”

“We could have a baking party. Remember when we made cookies before Thanksgiving last year? I didn’t even know how to put them on the sheet right,” Elise laughed.

“Hey,” Alex said, inviting herself into the conversation. “If you wanna talk cookie massacre… Belle, have you told her about my most recent failure in the kitchen?”

“She tried to make chocolate chip cookies over the weekend and forgot some ingredient, so they all melted together. Then, she burned them,” Belle passed along seriously, though a smile threatened.

“Wow. Alex, that’s worse than me!” Elise was shocked.

For a short time, Belle felt normal. Like nothing was different, like she wasn’t depressed or the cause of her mother’s pain and the break up of her parents’ marriage. But soon enough those feelings returned, as Julia passed her with that look once more.

When she motioned for Belle to follow her into the hall, Belle didn’t know why she felt compelled to go along with it, but she did.

“You know, you of all people need to be surrendered to prayer, and be humble enough to receive it when it’s offered,” Julia said intensely.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Belle demanded lowly.

“I think you know what it means. We both know that what you did is the worst kind of sin. It’s an insult to God. He created you, and you’re gonna go and off yourself just because something upset you? I want you to know that I see you for who you really are. You’re not Little Miss Perfect like you pretend to be. You’re nothing more than a liar.” Julia crossed her arms, waiting to see what kind of an impact the truth would have on Belle, if any.

“You’re right,” Belle said simply, turning and walking away.

But she immediately felt her breath catch as she went back in the kitchen and heard Kylie ask if anyone had cold medicine.

--

Belle hadn’t so much as looked at a pill other than her anti-depressants in the few days since her release. But she forced herself to stay put and act normally. She knew Kylie had been quiet that evening, but hadn’t been concerned enough to ask her about it.

From across the room, Belle watched Missy take her purse off the back of a kitchen chair and open it. “Yeah, I think I do have something. I’ve had a cold recently, too. Luckily no flu, though. Gotta love flu shots,” she said easily, as Kylie moved toward her.

Belle followed, not quite believing what was going on, and nearly lost her breath as she saw the Sudafed-brand cold medicine that Missy produced from her purse.

“Thanks,” Belle said, looking long and hard at Missy. She knew she had an attitude and didn’t care. She pushed past Missy and stalked into the living room for her coat and boots.

Belle felt a familiar sweat break out all over. She felt hot and sick and overwhelmed. She knew she had to get out. All the symptoms she had tried to forget were back, and Belle could think of nothing except getting outside where it was cold. Where she could breathe.

She was halfway down the driveway, almost to her car, by the time Missy caught up to her.

“Belle. What was that about?” Missy insisted, turning her around.

“Oh yeah, right!” Belle exclaimed angrily. “You practically search me coming out of the bathroom to be sure I didn’t take anything from Micah, and then twenty minutes later, you take out my drug of choice from your purse? Are you kidding me?” Belle demanded.

Missy went pale, losing her breath in the cold, and feeling shock ripple through her at Belle’s words. “That’s what you took?” Missy asked quietly.

“Like you didn’t know! My mother probably told you everything…”

“No. She didn’t. She hardly told us anything. Honey, I never would have done that if I knew that’s what you took,” Missy said regretfully, closing her eyes.

Belle shook her head fiercely, trying in vain to keep her own tears back. “I haven’t even seen a pill, other than the ones I have to take, since I’ve been out.”

Missy closed her eyes. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Please don’t leave like this.”

“I’m not staying here!” Belle insisted, still feeling the heat rush to her face.

“Well then let me give you a ride somewhere. You’re not in a state to drive.”

Though Belle remained as livid as she had been, she knew that Missy had a point. Plus, she knew she had almost no gas and her tires were bad, which wasn’t safe even on the nicest day, not to mention snow and icy roads.

“Greta’s,” Belle said shortly. “And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay,” Missy agreed, just grateful that Belle was willing to go with her.

Their ride was a silent one. No music. No visiting. There was nothing of their old relationship. Missy wondered if she had destroyed Belle’s trust in her permanently, or if God might be merciful and restore it.

--

Greta was on her couch, watching an old John Wayne western. It was a love she’d inherited from her dad, and though a lot of her friends didn’t share her passion, it never bothered Greta. She never got enough of the story lines, the characters and the horses.

She was well into the movie when she heard a knock at the door. Greta got up and turned off the TV. It was after 10 PM, and it was Thursday night. It could only be Belle.

Pulling open the door, Greta tried not to stare. Belle looked awful. Make up ran down her face, and her eyes were red and irritated. Greta never understood why women wore mascara - even if it was waterproof. It had only taken once for Greta to learn that she would never wear it again. She had cried it off after a fight with her mom, and her eyes had burned mercilessly.

“Hey. Who’s that?” Greta asked, indicating the car that was backing out of her driveway.

Greta was still dressed, though not in uniform. Belle knew she took that off the minute she got off work. Tonight she was wearing camouflage pants, and a dark tank top with a brown hoodie and a brown newsboy cap. Belle didn’t know anyone else who could manage to look so together at so late an hour. She knew she didn’t look near as composed.

“Missy,” Belle said darkly. She kept her coat on, and stepped out of her boots before flopping onto Greta’s couch miserably.

“What happened?” Greta asked, squatting in front of the couch.

“What didn’t happen?” Belle asked bitterly. “They tried to pray for me, Missy freakin’ searched me after I came out of Micah’s bathroom, I had a half-decent conversation with Elise and Alex. Then, Julia called me a liar. And then, Kylie didn’t feel good so Missy whipped out the freakin’ Sudafed cold medicine.”

“Oh, damn…” Greta said sympathetically. “Did you explain it to Missy.”

“Yeah, and she apologized,” Belle said quietly. “But I feel like crap. All shaky and weird. Just from seeing it.”

Greta made a sympathetic noise. “That sucks.” After a minute she spoke again. “Can we assume that you were a little preoccupied and didn’t call your mom?” Greta asked.

Wordlessly, Belle took out her cell phone and dialed home. She knew her mom wouldn’t be there. “Hey. I’m at Greta’s. I’ll be home later.”

Greta smiled a little as Belle put her phone away, and fell back against the cushions, closing her eyes.

“This sucks,” Belle complained.

Greta moved to sit beside her on the couch. “What do you wanna do?”

“Sleep.”

“Sleeping doesn’t count,” Greta insisted. “Besides that, what do you wanna do?”

“What were you doing?” Belle asked. “Before I came over?”

“Watching an old western,” Greta admitted, smiling at the many years of memories watching them with her dad.

“That works,” Belle confirmed, stretching her tiny body across Greta’s couch.

Greta looked surprised. “Seriously? None of my friends ever wanna do that with me.”

“Well, I’m not like any of your friends,” Belle said seriously.

“You’d better move those boney legs of yours, or I’m gonna be sitting on them in a second.”

“I don’t care,” Belle denied, daring Greta to follow through.

“You will,” Greta promised.

As promised, Greta sat down hard on Belle’s legs, and Belle squealed and tried to get away. “You weigh at least a thousand pounds!” she balked, laughing. “Get off me!”

“Little brat,” Greta complained, swatting Belle’s thigh. But she got up, freeing Belle’s legs, and went to pop them some popcorn. Belle followed her, deciding to make herself useful and pouring water for herself and coffee for Greta - whose caffeine intake knew no limit.

For the rest of the evening, Belle let herself relax, knowing that she was safe with Greta, and she would never pressure her to say anything she wasn’t ready to. Belle enjoyed the movie, and Greta’s freakishly accurate imitation of not only the John Wayne cowboy, but also all the other characters.

Belle stayed a long time, even after the movie ended, just sitting quietly in the room with Greta who sat in a chair and amused herself by throwing popcorn at Belle. It was enough levity that Belle wasn’t completely lost in her own thoughts, but enough quiet that she could think.

Leaning back, Belle recalled Alex’s words from Romans. That in all things God worked for the good of those who loved Him. That meant even tonight. Deep down, Belle knew it was good for her to face what she had tonight. After all, better now than sometime later. Better that she was among friends and people she knew, than alone.

Looking across the room, Belle didn’t think Greta was at all aware of how much help she’d been. Whether she was bored and lonely at home recovering, or coming in from a crisis like tonight, Greta was her one constant, always there with a crazy story to make her laugh, or a kind word to ease her pain. Belle hoped that someday she could let Greta know how thankful she was for her friendship. Though Belle had many friends, it was Greta she chose to lean on. Greta had taken on Belle’s burdens without complaint - her love increasing under the weight all Belle’s sorrow.