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were in the car and on our way.
    â€œHow about the Cheesecake Factory?” Susan asked as we neared the mall. “We can have some sinfully wonderful dessert to spoil our dinners. I recommend lots of chocolate.”
    â€œChocolate isn’t the answer for every problem.”
    â€œMaybe not, but it’s a good place to start.”
    I released another deep sigh.
    â€œMaybe you should skip watching that news report tonight. It’ll only upset you more.”
    â€œI can’t skip it. I need to know what she has to say about Brad.”
    Susan pulled into the mall parking lot. She didn’t say another word until she parked the car not far from the main mall entrance. “Listen. I’m probably not the best person to give advice on this particular topic. I haven’t had much success when it comes to marriage. And besides, I’m never surprised when a man strays. I guess I’m more surprised when they don’t. But if any man is capable of walking the straight and narrow, it’s gotta be Brad Clarkson. Don’t believe the worst until you know it’s true—even if that’s what you’ve seen me do.”
    My chest lightened. “You think he’s innocent?”
    â€œLook, I can’t say anything for sure. I don’t know Nicole. I only met her at that party you gave last fall. But some women don’t care if a man’s married, and she strikes me as that type. If she came on to Brad . . .” She shrugged. “Well, who knows? But I wouldn’t jump to believe her first thing. She’s obviously no paragon of virtue, and that’s by her own admission.”
    Susan and I were different in many ways. I’d been married to the same man for nearly twenty-five years; she was twice divorced. I had two daughters with a couple of grandchildren on the way; she’d never conceived. I was a Christian; Susan trusted only in herself, with a dash of positive thinking and universal good thrown in. I liked to keep things serene; she enjoyed a good argument every now and again. I was a conservative, and she was a liberal. Most of the time, I was right and she was wrong. At least, that’s what I liked to tell her.
    More than anything, I wanted her to be right this time.

Eight

    DON’T WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING; INSTEAD, PRAY ABOUT everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done . . . Fix your thoughts on what is true and honorable and right. Think about things that are pure and lovely and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise . . .
    That evening, I repeated those Bible verses to myself as I sat in the family room, waiting for Our View to air. The Scriptures should have made me feel better. They should have brought a measure of comfort. They didn’t. Probably because I couldn’t find anything pure or lovely or admirable upon which to fix my thoughts. Instead, I thought about Nicole.
    Not long after she was hired at In Step, I’d learned Nicole loved live theater as much as I did. So I invited her to join Brad and me when we attended a production at the Knock ’Em Dead Theater. We enjoyed her company, and thereafter she joined us whenever we took in a show. Nicole was bright and witty. Her keen sense of humor never failed to make me laugh. And she was pretty too. I couldn’t believe she was unattached at the age of thirty-five. There had to be something seriously wrong with the men who met her.
    To tell the truth, I would have loved to fix her up with one of several bachelors I knew. But those young men were believers, and church was the logical and most natural place for me to introduce her to them. Since Nicole declined my invitations to join us on Sundays at Harvest Christian Fellowship and seemed to have no interest in Christianity, my desire to play matchmaker seemed doomed.
    Then one day when I was at In Step, I invited Nicole to the women’s Bible study I led. Much to my