Falling … Again

By Robin Alderman

Deborah Dodson spends her days either at her catering shop, at church, at choir practice, or at home, until she attends a party with a friend and sees him. Everywhere she goes for the next week, he is there. It is like God is putting him in her path for her to trip over, and she does. She finds herself falling again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781512722093

Robin Alderman

Robin is the widow of Glenn Aldeman, pastor of Belle Park Baptist Church in Haughton, Louisiana. She lives in the house the church and community built for her located across the street from the church.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 Robin Alderman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5127-2208-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-2210-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-2209-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015919884

WestBow Press rev. date: 12/01/2015

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

To my family

To my two daughters and son: Thank you for not laughing when you found out I was writing. You encouraged me and pushed me to follow through. I know the past two years have been as hard on you as they have been on me. Thank you for loving one another and putting up with my season of loneliness. We have made it through the valley of the shadow of death, and with God’s blessing, we have come out on the other side.

Mom, you were the first to read this story, and you encouraged me to continue. Thank you. We’ve been through many changes in our lives, and you have always been strong through every trial. Thank you for being an awesome role model of Christ in a woman’s life.

Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night … Ugh, not again. It seemed that every book she picked up began the same way—It was a dark and stormy night—over and over and over. Deborah Ellen Dodson put the book down on her side table and leaned back into the oversized La-Z-Boy recliner that had been her husband’s dwelling for the last six months of his life. She gently pushed off with her feet against the floor and felt herself rock ever so slightly. She closed her eyes, and in the solitude of the night, a single tear slid down her cheek.

Why? Why won’t these feelings go away? It had been more than three years since her husband’s passing; surely she should have moved on by now. Or at least these feelings should have lessened. It seemed like yesterday when they’d first received the news.

He had always taken good care of himself. A picture of health, his doctor had always told him. He was never really sick. He had a cold once in a while, but that was it. So when he started feeling pain in his abdomen, he thought that maybe he had pulled a muscle. I’ll take two aspirin and feel better in the morning, he would say. And he did feel better. Until a few days later when the pain hit again.

He kept a mental note of how it hurt and where it hurt. When the pain became more severe, he finally decided to see a doctor. At first the doctor agreed that it might just be muscle spasms, and he prescribed muscle relaxers. Allen took the pills but did not see any improvement. He was still in pain, and now it was constant. It was time to do more than take pills.

The doctor ordered tests and called him as soon as he got the results. Allen, I need you to come to the office. Now. Allen had felt like he’d been called to the principal’s office. But this was much worse. At least in the principal’s office, punishment was handed out and over with by the time you left. This, however, was uncertain territory.

Surgery was required to access the small lump that the doctor feared was a tumor. Three hours into the procedure, Deborah checked on Allen’s condition with the hospitality nurse. She reported that the surgery was taking a little longer than expected but that the doctor was about finished and would be out to give her the news. Give the news. If this had been a birth announcement, they would have been excited with the news. But now Deborah waited with her children and their spouses, Allie and Greg, Mark and Sue, Kelsey and Austin, and Paul and his fiancée, Holly, as well as the many friends who had come to support them. And the longer they waited, the more the news seemed daunting. Every scenario played out in their heads. Maybe it was a twisted bowel or a tumor the doctor could remove or shrink. Maybe it was scar tissue from an appendectomy done long ago. Surely the news wouldn’t be that bad. He was just in pain, right?

But the news they received was not what they expected to hear, even in their wildest dreams. It was news that turned their world upside down: cancer. That dreaded C word. The word that feels like a death sentence. And in this case, it was, as the doctor gave Allen six months to live. Go home and put your affairs in order. Basically, he told them there was no hope.

Allen gathered his family together and confirmed the faith he had tried to instill in his children. God was in control. He always had been and always would be. The family clung together through the news. It was hard to hear, but for Allen’s sake, they held their heads high through the tears.

The doctor had found the tumor and removed much of it. And then he’d moved aside part of Allen’s stomach and seen it—hundreds of BB-sized cells covering the abdominal-cavity walls and every organ on which it could get its cancerous tentacles. He said he had removed a layer of fat that covered the wall of the abdomen, hoping to deter the growth, but he wasn’t optimistic. You can try treatments and chemo, but in the end, you do need to think about quality of life, the doctor had explained.

Allen was a fighter, however. Determined not to just go home and roll over, he did research and found that people had been healed from his type of cancer and that some still lived normal lives while undergoing treatment. He then sought out doctors and had tests and treatments, some of which seemed to work. Even during the in-between times when he was so sick, he resolved to keep at it. And whether it was Allen’s determination or God’s will, Allen had lived one year longer than the doctor’s initial death sentence.

So here she was again. Maybe it was the storm that kept raging within her heart that made her feel this way, but the books she kept picking up were just a reminder.

It hadn’t always been this way. She remembered back to a time when all she could see was love—the love of God and the love of her family. Deborah was a small-town girl who had been active in her high school. She’d sung in the choir, marched in the band, and twirled in the color guard. After graduation she had attended Bryan College in the beautiful town of Dayton, Tennessee. Life had been wonderful. She’d met Allen, the love of her life, gotten married, and had four children she treasured. Now, since his passing, she felt lost in the darkness of a storm that would never end.

Enough of this! she said to herself.

A prayer crossed her heart. "Dear heavenly Father, you are Lord God Almighty. You are the Rock and fortress and healer. Help me, Lord, to cling to you as my rock, to rest in you as my fortress, and to call on you as the healer of my heart. I feel so lost in this sea of people. My heart aches for the love I have lost. Help me see that you are enough, enough to fill my heart and enough to soothe my soul. If your plans for me are to be single for the rest of my life, Father, help me to be happy with that. If your plans include someone by my side, let me be available emotionally to handle what you may bring. In Jesus’s name, amen."

Deborah stood and crossed the room to the portrait of Allen and looked deep into the eyes that had held her heart captive for more than thirty years. She brushed her hand over the picture that hung on the wall and watched over her, letting her fingers rest on his lips. She could still feel his lips on hers, the way they enveloped not only her mouth but her whole being. She closed her eyes and felt his arms around her, the way he’d held her close in her safe place—right in the center of his chest where her head rested—when he wrapped his arms protectively around her and just held her there. She longed for that feeling again, the one that made her feel that all is right with the world when I’m in your arms.

Deborah opened her eyes and smiled slightly. Theirs had been a love story all in itself. From the moment they’d met, she had known he was the one. She had even told that to her college roommate, who’d thought she was crazy.

You just met this guy. How do you know? her roommate had asked.

Deborah had had no explanation. She’d just known. She’d felt it deep down inside. It was like she had known Allen all her life, even though introductions had just been made. But she’d felt that she knew him more than as a person: she knew his soul. And she just knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Doubts had crossed her mind, however, when, after four months of dating, Allen didn’t seem as attentive as she thought he should be. Suddenly, one guy after another began telling her that she was amazing and that if she was their girl, they wouldn’t take her for granted. Eventually, Deborah confronted Allen with her doubts about his commitment to her.

Why? What’s wrong? he had asked.

I don’t know. I thought that when I fell in love, there would be trumpets and fireworks. You know, like in the movies. The couple comes together, and in the background there are fireworks shooting overhead. Then the music swells as the trumpets herald the much-awaited kiss. But instead there is silence.

Allen had taken what she said to heart. He enlisted a friend from the music department at college and another friend who owned a fireworks stand to help carry out his plan. Showing a little of his romantic side, Allen had taken her to the lake a few days later. Taking her hands in his, he’d looked into her eyes and told her that he loved her, that she was the only one for him, and that he had waited his whole life to meet her. Then he’d taken out a boom box, the kind that took two hands to carry, and played a recording of trumpets sounding a fanfare. Then he’d struck a match and lit fireworks, one after the other, filling the night sky with brilliant light.

What are you doing? Deborah had asked, amazed and bewildered.

You said you thought there would be trumpets and fireworks, so I wanted to give you trumpets and fireworks.

Her heart had melted. She’d hugged and kissed him, and once again she had known.

That was the kind of love Deborah was missing. The kind that said, I’ll do whatever it takes to let you know that I love you.

Still smiling at the memory, Deborah took a deep breath and said good night to the portrait on the wall, just as she had done every night for the past three years.

As she slipped into bed, her mind turned to the week ahead. She had just begun her own catering business, Elegant Essentials Catering, and up to this point, business had been slow. But now that Thanksgiving was over and the Christmas season was upon them, it seemed like she had quite a lot of small orders to fill.

She turned out the light, said a prayer, rolled over, and tried to sleep. A tear made its way down her cheek and rested on her pillow, a reminder of the dark and stormy night that continued to rain in her heart.

Chapter 2

The morning dawned bright, and Deborah turned her car into the parking lot of EEC, her catering business. She liked the initials. It sounded important and, like the name, elegant. She’d been excited when she’d gotten the opportunity to purchase the lot on the corner of Ash and Main. It was toward the edge of town down Main Street, but Deborah didn’t mind. She had designed the floor plan herself, secured the financing, and hired the contractors. Now the building of her dreams was a reality.

In a showroom just inside the front doors, faux cakes adorned counters and tabletops. A worktable was in the center of the room, with books for customers to view ideas they might want to consider. Off the showroom was an office where Deborah kept her computer and records. Perched on shelves were portraits of her children and grandchildren, along with mementos and knickknacks from her past.

Through another door and down the hall was the room where all the creativity happened. It was the best kitchen she could ever have imagined, complete with industrial ovens and a large walk-in refrigerator and freezer. Counter space was opulent, and there was no lack of storage space. She had amassed a lot of inventory during the years she had catered freelance. The storage building out back held tables, chairs, columns, arches, candleholders, a gazebo, and much more. Her shop had to be big enough to handle what she hoped would one day be a thriving business known for complete service from start to finish.

As she looked around her shop, she breathed in and let out a sigh. It was hers. It was a big accomplishment for her. She had never done anything quite so elaborate before, at least not without help. Allen had always been there for her, guiding her and being a sounding board for her ideas. But after his death, she had needed something to fill part of the emptiness that was now present. She loved to cook, and everyone had always said she would be a great caterer, so she’d decided to give it a try. She had already catered a few friends’ weddings and, of course, her children’s as well. It just made sense.

Two years after Allen’s death, she had begun the journey to her new career. All the paperwork for the bank, the state, and the food and health administration had taken longer than expected, but now that all the legal documents were in place, she was ready. She was all right financially and was more concerned with failure, as the business had taken off slowly. She’d done a few birthday and wedding cakes, but she hadn’t had the break she was looking for to get her name out there. Now the holidays were fast approaching, and Deborah was hoping the season would bring about important business contacts.

Shannon Richardson was Deborah’s second in command at EEC. She was an attractive woman in her midforties, and the first time Deborah had met her, they’d become fast friends. They had been working on the same graduation committee for their soon-to-be high school graduates: Deborah’s youngest, Paul, and Shannon’s oldest, Rachel. Since Shannon had been single for four years, they’d found they had a lot in common. Being single again after many years of marriage, no matter how the relationship ended, made the bond between the two women special.

Shannon was intelligent and good with numbers, so when Deborah talked to her about the plans to start her own business, Shannon had asked if she would need help and had jumped at the chance to work with her friend. She also had two younger children, sons aged thirteen and fifteen, so the flexible hours she had agreed to work would allow her the freedom to remain active in her son’s lives. As Shannon came into the showroom that morning, Deborah was putting the finishing touches on an order that was about to be picked up.

Hey, D. D.! Are you still going to come with me to the party tonight? Deborah loved the nickname her friends had given her at work. It seemed to fit. Besides, it sounded almost exotic. This is my caterer, D. D. of EEC.

Deborah sighed. Is that tonight? I almost forgot. Do you really want me there? She tried to make her voice sound like she was not going to be any fun. I’m not much company.

Yes, I want you there. Shannon put her hand on her hip as if to say that she wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want her there. Besides it will do you some good to get out. All you ever do is work, church, and go home to your empty house. It’s time you do something else.

I’m involved with the community choir, she protested playfully. That’s something else.

Shannon gave her a look. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry the first guy you see. It’s just time for you to get out of the house, mingle, and meet some people. It’s a ‘Single Again’ party.

Oh, okay. D. D. rolled her eyes and reluctantly agreed.

Good, I’ll pick you up at six thirty. I have to drop my boys off at their youth Sunday school class party at six forty-five, and then it’s off to my party. Wear something comfortable and festive. It’s a Christmas party, okay?

Deborah pushed back one hanger and then another, trying to decide what to wear. Did she really have to go to this party? She wasn’t in the partying mood. She’d used to love Christmastime and all the decorations, music, and parties. But now, with her empty house devoid of holiday cheer, she really just wanted to stay at home and … what? Read another book that started with it was a dark and stormy night? She shook her head and took a deep breath and decided to give the party a try.

She settled on a comfortable and understated outfit and pulled out black slacks and a white blouse with poinsettias on the collar. Over that she would wear a black, boyfriend-cut jacket. It wasn’t a festive outfit, but she didn’t want to wear anything that would draw attention to herself. She really was going just to satisfy Shannon’s constant begging for her to get out of the house. She stepped back and peered into the mirror, adjusted the collar on the jacket, brushed her hair, and decided that would do.

The Christmas party was packed with members from the First Baptist Church, which Shannon attended. Shannon tried to get her to mingle and introduced her to several people. Deborah tried to convince herself that this was a good thing, getting out. She put on her best smile and interacted, but her heart was not in it.

Deborah sat at a table in the corner of the room, watching people. She and Allen had used to love to do this. They made wisecracks about what