Alison Strobel - The Heart of Memory

© 2011

KNOWING THERE WAS ALWAYS SOMEONE WATCHING HER AT these conferences, Savannah Trover kept her mouth moving as the crowd sang along with the worship band. She wasn’t on stage yet, but sitting on deck with the other speakers made her nearly as visible. She was just glad no one had heard when her voice had given out with a squeak on the last verse, and hopefully no one around her noticed she wasn’t actually singing anymore.

Lousy timing, God she prayed as she took a casual glance to the door behind her. Where was Marisa? Savannah went on in ten minutes and wouldn’t have a voice to teach with if she didn’t get some Ricola and water soon.

The song ended and a new one began, admonishing her to trust in the Lord. Shame on me. Thanks for the reminder. She straightened her shoulders and mouthed the words to save her voice while she tried not to panic that she’d bomb when she took the stage.

A hand on her arm startled her from her thoughts. Marisa held out a bottle of water and an unwrapped lozenge. “Sorry it took so long,” she whispered. Savannah smiled and waved away the apology as she took the lozenge. Marisa always knew exactly what she needed. Savannah wished the ministry could afford to give her a raise; she certainly deserved one.

Marisa pulled Savannah’s phone from her pocket and handed it to her. “Shaun texted three times while I was in the dressing room. I figured it must be important if he was trying to reach you when he knows you’re teaching this morning.”

Savannah drained half the water, then popped the lozenge and took the phone.

Leather bound exec checkbook – can’t find it.

Know where it is?

She frowned.

Didn’t know we had one. Sorry.

She handed it back to Marisa with a shrug. “I don’t even know what he’s talking about.”

Marisa pulled a small bag from her purse. “I’ve got one dose each of zinc, Echinacea, vitamins C and D, and garlic. Want any of them?”

Savannah glanced at her water, then held out her hand. “I’ll take them all. Might as well.” She chewed down the Ricola, then swallowed the handful of capsules. The band reached the final chorus, and she quickly reapplied the lipstick Marisa offered her, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Adrenaline was kicking in, soothing the dull ache behind her eyes and chasing away the feeling of uneasiness that came with knowing her immune system was being hacked.

The song ended, and a moment later the lights dimmed and the opening video illuminated the screen behind the stage. Savannah closed her eyes again, centering herself and spending one last minute in prayer. Just get me through the day, Lord. Keep my voice and body strong. I don’t care if I’m sick for the rest of the month, just keep me healthy today.

She stood and straightened the ruby red jacket of her pantsuit before climbing the stairs to the stage. The video ended, the audience burst into applause, and the lights came up, activating the performer in her. “Thank you, ladies,” she called out, waving and basking in the heat of the lights and the attention of five thousand women hanging on her every word, “and welcome to the last day of this summer’s Women of the Word conference.”

More applause, and her impending cold was forgotten. For the next forty minutes, Savannah was home.

SHAUN TROVER RAN A HAND through his hair and stared hard at the floor. “Think,” he muttered. “Come on, think.” He walked back to his den and pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk, the spot where the checkbook should be and where he had already looked three times. Still empty. Of course it is. Come on, think.

He sat down and scrolled through his online calendar, looking for something that might remind him of the last check he’d written. And there it was. He closed his eyes, walking step by step through that afternoon. The phone rang, just as I pulled it out of the drawer. The sudden memory made him smile – finally, some hope. I remember taking that message on the kitchen counter-

He’d brought the checkbook with him as he left the office to track down the cordless that was not on its base on his desk. He went back to the kitchen to look again.

“Hey, Dad.” Jessie jerked open the fridge.

Shaun jumped. “I thought you were at work.”

She smiled as she opened the orange juice. “I don’t leave for another five. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright. Hey-you haven’t seen a big leather binder, have you? About this big.” He held out his hands, indicating the size as he scanned the room again.

When Jessie nodded, relief was followed quickly by fear. She wouldn’t open it, would she?

“You have?”

“Yeah, I think so. It was here on the phone desk last week, on Mom’s study Bible. I put them both in her office.”

Shaun bounded upstairs. “Left-hand side of the credenza,” Jessie called after him. Shaun let out a shaky breath as he pulled out the binder from beneath the tattered Bible. He’d have to be more careful. This couldn’t happen again.

“Sorry about that,” Jessie said when he returned. “Is that for A &A? I thought you guys had an accountant now.”

“We do. But this isn’t for A &A; it’s for our personal account. I just don’t like those smaller checkbooks – too easy to lose.” They laughed at the irony and Shaun took the binder back to his office, locking it in its proper place before rejoining Jessie in the kitchen. “So Mom comes back tomorrow. I was thinking we could do a family dinner; you could bring Adam.”

Jessie’s face went dark. “No, thanks. Adam and I already have plans.”

“Come on, Jess. It’s your mother. She’s been gone for three weeks.”

“It’s not that different from when she’s here. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Shaun offered a fatherly look, but Jessie returned it with a stony stare. He tried a different approach. “Maybe you two should do something together before classes start up. Take a road trip to Estes Park, maybe.”

Jessie let out a flat laugh. “We wouldn’t have enough to talk about to fill a fifteen-minute coffee break, much less a whole day. No, thanks.” She shifted on her feet and raised her eyes to Shaun’s. “But speaking of school, would you drive up with me when I move back and help me cart my stuff to my dorm room? It’ll go so much faster with two of us, and Adam and I are helping to throw the freshman dinner that night. It would be great to have it done before that.”

“Of course, Jess. As long as Mom doesn’t need-”

“Oh, right, unless Mom needs something.” She spun around and grabbed her keys from the counter. “I forgot she’s the center of the universe.”

Shaun winced when the door slammed shut. He should have known better than to try to throw them together like that. He just kept hoping things would change. Not that they can when Savannah’s never here. He shook his head and went back to his office, then groaned when he remembered why he’d been racing around the house in a panic ten minutes ago. He pulled out the checkbook binder and removed a smaller checkbook from the back, then opened his email, his gut clenching as he scanned the inbox for the letter. His hand shook as he wrote the check, and by the time the envelope was addressed his handwriting was chicken scratch. He pushed a stamp onto the corner and walked to the kitchen for his keys, then grabbed the shopping list from the counter. He’d go grocery shopping after stopping at the post office. At least he and Savannah would have a nice dinner.