Fall from Grace

Libby Sternberg

Description

Eli Baine has sinned. Spectacularly. When he's caught using a prostitution ring, the news blasts across print and broadcast media: the son of a reality TV evangelical clan, whose Christian lifestyle is showcased regularly in Baine Family Values television episodes, is exposed as a hypocrite. Carted off to rehab, Eli chafes at being lumped in with molesters and serial adulterers. But when he escapes to visit his wife, Ruth, he finds no solace there. She can hardly bear to look at him, let alone admit him back into her life with their infant child. This sets Eli off on a hard journey toward redemption, understanding and reconciliation. His first stop is at a mainline Protestant church that embraces him with tolerance and support, but where he must endure counseling from a "she-priest" and an ultimate betrayal by someone who'd offered a helping hand. Meanwhile, Ruth herself sets out on a healing path, being counseled by a new, young pastor at her parents' fundamentalist church who offers her more than just spiritual guidance. Both Eli and Ruth wander in the wilderness of heartbreak, distrust, and eventual tragedy until they finally transform into different individuals who can see the light of hope and love in their marriage and their lives."Fall From Grace is an engrossing portrait of Christian life in America today, spanning social and religious worlds from the evangelical to the progressive. At the same time, Fall From Grace is a convincing character study that portrays the growth of a man beyond crippling, parochial entitlement to selfless love, and the parallel emergence of his wife from self-effacing submission and naivete to self-realization. A deeply moving examination of the struggle between compulsion and conscience; of the power of faith; and of Christian approaches to sin, hypocrisy, responsibility, remorse, forgiveness, and the true meaning of love." Mitchell James Kaplan, award-winning author of By Fire, By Water

Sujets

• Sagas

Informations

• Publié par: Bancroft Press
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 2017
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781610882071
• Langue: English

Extrait

FALL FROM GRACE
LIBBY STERNBERG
Copyright 2017 Libby Sternberg All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote passages in a review.

Published by Bancroft Press “Books that Enlighten” 800-637-7377 P.O. Box 65360, Baltimore, MD 21209 410-764-1967 (fax) www.bancroftpress.com
Printed in the United States of America
To Matthew…always
CONTENTS
Part I
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Part II
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Part III
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Part IV
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Q and A with the Author
Acknowledgments
About the Author
PART ONE
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us…
Paul’s letter to the Hebrews 12: 1
PROLOGUE
He reached out his arm, but his hand fisted sheet, not thick, luxurious hair or voluptuous skin. Eyes fluttering, he turned and saw her silhouette against backlit blinds. As he watched her shrug into a sweater, her perfectly curved body was outlined against the yellow slats of early morning light.
He smiled. “I’ve got time for one more…”
She laughed, but it was a mirthless chuckle, and, when she spoke, her voice was flat and irritated.
“One night with you, tiger, is all I can take. Shena doesn’t like bruises and scratches. New business don’t like it neither.”
Shena—was that her real name? He’d certainly not given his. He never did. He had a credit card set up in his fake identity—Derek Sloane. He thought it sounded manly, vigorous. As vigorous as he was.
“Double,” he said, leaning on one elbow now. “I’ll pay double.”
“Nuh-uh. I got things to do.”
She strode toward the door, and he reached out to swipe her arm as she passed, pulling her into him so quickly that her sky-high stilettos scratched his leg.
“Triple,” he whispered, grabbing her hair, pushing himself closer. “Cash.”
He heard her sigh, and then she went limp.
“Okay,” she said. “Be quick about it. I’m serious—I’ve got an important meeting.”
Given the green light, he moved on her. But he wasn’t quick about it. He took his time, and it was a full half hour later when she rolled out of bed, moaning.
“Dammit, buster. I’m late and more bruised than the first time. You’ve got a monster in you. You’re going on my no-sirree list.” Without asking permission, she grabbed his wallet from the nightstand and pulled out cash. That sent him jolting upright, reaching.
“Here! I’ll give it to you.”
Sensing his fear, a smile played at her lips as she tucked a wad of bills into her pocket and made a show of rifling through his credit cards, as if to take them. Then, as he pounced to retrieve the wallet, she threw it back on the bed, laughing with satisfaction.
“I’m no thief, Derek,” she said, pronouncing his name with slow emphasis to demonstrate she knew it was phony. She ambled to the door, in no hurry since he was nude and she was but three steps away from a hallway already bustling with room service carts and early risers heading to the lobby. Over her shoulder, she called, “Goodbye…Elijah.”
He stood stock-still, as if struck. In that instant, it was as if the door opened and closed in slow motion. It was as if lightning had hit him. He knew. It was over. And he knew that some time in the next days or weeks or months, the sword would fall, and the world would also know that Elijah Baine, son of the holy Baine family, owners of the religious goods company True Things, television celebrities for their Baine Family Values television specials that regularly showcased their evangelical Christian lifestyle to millions of loving fans, was a sinner of spectacular proportions.

It didn’t take weeks or months, which, in an odd way, was a relief to Eli. Ever since that prostitute had uttered his real name when leaving the hotel room, he’d been waiting for the knock on the door, the phone call, the “reveal.”
So, when it finally did come, in the form of an online magazine exclusive, picked up by television entertainment news shows, and followed by real news shows and print publications, he felt as if he could breathe free again.
His mother cried. His father yelled at him over the phone, telling him to get his ass home from his Philadelphia office, home to rural Delaware where the Baine family compound proved no refuge. Camera crews and reporters were waiting for him there, along with his devastated wife, Ruth, holding their infant daughter, Becca.
He had barely enough time to kiss them both—chastely on the forehead—and offer apologies and prayers before his father took charge, telling him what rehabilitation program he was going to, then carting him to the nearby Redemption Institute in the dark of night so no one would see them.
Eli felt like an outlaw, an exile, a prodigal. And somehow, it was okay. Because he never again wanted to see the look that Ruth had given him on his arrival. He’d not factored that into the cost of his sin—that she, too, would have to pay so steep a price.
CHAPTER ONE
T he soft insistent chirrup of late summer crickets, the mild evening breeze, the blond glow on grass fronds by the sun porch—all suggested repose while war raged within his heart. Anxiety shouting lists of facts about his recent history, repose whispering “you cannot change anything, so learn to wait and accept.” Like those crickets, unknowing, trusting…or were they savage, brutal, ready to kill or be killed?
“…and that’s when I met Ronnie, when I was taking this break from Trish, and, we were just friends, see? Just friends?” The man talking broke down in sobs, bending forward, head in hands, elbows on knees. The group leader put his hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to continue. “I just. Can’t. Do. That.”
While the other half dozen men in the circle either nodded, frowned in sympathy, or swallowed hard, Eli’s lip curled ever so slightly in a sneer. Be friends with a woman? This man couldn’t do it? Hell, that wasn’t Eli Baine’s problem. He was perfectly content to be friends with his wife. It was other women who lured him into temptation.
When would they talk about that? The eternal Eve, leading men astray, leading good God-fearing men like him down the wrong path. That thought had bedeviled him since landing here. If all women could be as good, as pure, and innocent as his wife, he wouldn’t have a problem. Did they absolutely share no blame in this mess?
He might have arrived at the Institute a penitent, but it had taken but a few days in the company of these other…deviants…to realize he was the normal one here. And that had set his thoughts on a different path, one filled with resentment. These other men had more despicable histories, but he alone was suffering public scorn. He’d caught snippets of it in news articles online and his father’s regular reports.
“It’s all right, Bob. Let it out,” Pastor Duke said, still patting the man on the shoulder. “Think about it. About the forks in the road. You took the path where Evil lies. You were tempted, and you gave in to temptation. Is there any more you want to admit to?”
But Bob didn’t say any more. He just cried, sucking in wet breaths and heaving sighs. Everyone else waited for the storm to pass. They were tired. The rehab center regimen was filled with activity in this first phase, from early morning prayer services to jogging and hiking along the coast, to workouts in the gym, to sessions with counselors, to forced journaling and on to more physical tasks—yard work, carpentry jobs, things to keep their minds, hands and feet occupied so they wouldn’t focus on that one part of their anatomy that had landed them here in the first place. By the time evening prayer and group sessions rolled around, more than one fellow struggled to keep his eyes open and yawns suppressed.
“All right now,” Pastor Duke said. “Why not join hands and call it a day with a prayer?”
So they did. Eli cringed at the clammy hand of the fellow on his right, a guy who’d confessed to having “unnatural longings” for teenaged girls. Teenaged, my foot, thought Eli as Pastor Duke prayed. Eli’s guess was the man lusted after Lolitas—girls too young to be legal, and way too young to consent.
Why was he here? The question screamed at him as he tried to focus on the prayer. His inclinations were for women, not young girls or boys. He’d not had a problem with platonic relationships with women—he managed many at his job. His former job, that is. And he and Ruth—well, he’d thought of her as his best friend from the day he’d met her.
If he lusted after other women, though, if they tempted him…
“…the Lord will provide succor even when we do not know our needs. Lift from us all the worry and care of this day. Bring us to your peace, O Lord, and let us rest, with you in the serenity that passes all understanding…”

Ruth Baine pushed a lock of frizzy red hair from her eyes with a soapy hand, staring at the sunset-painted sky from her sink window. She could see only a sliver of it beyond a nearby rooftop, but pinks and oranges gave her a fleeting infusion of peace. Too fleeting. When she heard baby Rebecca cry, she inwardly growled and placed her teacup in the dish drainer with such force, the delicate handle broke.
Stepping back, she put one hand on her hip, the other on her brow, and searched for w