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but she quickly shut that gibberish off. Jim was the factor. Not even Diana mattered. If he cheated with Diana, he’d cheat with someone else. Maybe he already had.
    The memory of all the nights he’d spent in his church office while she sat alone in their house reading books about other women’s happy-ever-after stories slammed into her gut.
    She shut off the scream inside her and hurried to the bathroom. Moments later, she heard the phone ring again. She was washing her hands when Sarah opened the door and stuck her head inside. “Jim wants to talk to you.”
    “Tell him to talk to someone who cares.” She looked in the mirror. At least she hadn’t put makeup on last night. No smeared black mascara streaks today. Good. Her dad would be here any minute. She wouldn’t have time to clean up. Not even time for a shower. “Did you find any clothes for me?”
    Sarah shook her head. “I’ll tell Jim—”
    “I’ll tell him.” A sudden blaze of anger changed Becky’s mind about avoiding Jim. If he had any decency, he would avoid her . “You get the clothes, please.”
    “You’re sure?”
    Becky narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a wimp.”
    “You’re used to...” Sarah’s lips twisted. “Being treated well.”
    “He’ll treat me well.” Becky thought of the photos on his phone. “I think he’ll treat me very well.”
    Before she reached Sarah’s phone in the kitchen, she collected her purse with Jim’s phone and sent the photos to her own phone and to her email – though Jim knew her password and she suspected he would delete them – and to Sarah’s phone and Sarah’s email. She almost sent them to Marsh, but decided it was enough to send them to Sarah.
    Right now she didn’t trust Marsh. Though he’d never had much in common with Jim, they were both men. She’d have to see. Her days of blind trust were behind her.
    When she picked up the phone, Becky half expected that Jim had hung up, but he was still on the phone. “Becky! You’re here.” 
    His voice held as much surprise as if the president had answered. Did he, like Sarah, think she was a wimp? They both forgot she was the one who made Jim’s life run smoothly. He was a gifted preacher and teacher but she was the one who handled the shepherding part of the job. Handled the mailing of bereavement, birth, special occasion cards. She took meals to the sick and baked cookies for shut-in visits. She coordinated the youth ministry and the youth ice cream social. She taught Sunday school and attended a ladies' bible study at night.
    On top of that, she had to keep the house clean, and the parsonage looking nice inside and out.
    It had felt like a continuation of what she’d done for her father and for Sarah when she was a teen. Taking care of them.
    It was past time she took care of herself.
    “We have to talk,” he said.
    “Do we? I don’t think so. Don’t call again. I don’t want you pestering my sister and her family.”
    “Sweetheart, don’t be like that.”
    “Good-bye, Jim.”
    “No! Please, Becky! This is important.”
    The phone was already away from her ear but she pulled it back up. Didn’t say anything. Just waited. Her mouth settled in a grim line.
    She knew what was coming next. Knew he wanted her to start talking. To do what she usually did. To say something that would make life easy for him.
    Her days of making life easy for him were over.
    “My cell phone... I need it back.”
    “I’ll put it in Sarah’s mailbox. Is that all? I have to go. Dad’s coming.”
    “The pictures you took. You’re not...”
    “Keeping copies? You bet I am. I emailed them to myself and to Sarah.”
    “Dammit, Becky! You—”
    She hung up and turned away. Didn’t feel triumphant or happy that she had him worried. Her chest was too tight with unshed tears. Her eyes burned. But she would not cry; she would not cry. Her dad would be coming any moment and she would not cry.
    Sarah’s new kitten darted down the hall into the puppy room.