(This week I decided to write another Brieltas snippet, this time with Bay and Dylan because it’s been a while since I posted anything with them here. There are SLIGHT spoilers for The Brieltas Chronicles but considering how long it will be until I publish it, I don’t think it will a problem.)
***
***
Something about spring always got to Bay.
She pushed the window open, grinning at the scent of early lilacs sneaking in with the breeze through the screen. Spring always took its good and sweet time coming to Brieltas, especially since it insisted on sleeting the last month or so of winter. But now, there was green coming in, from the buds on the big tree in the backyard to the bits of grass finally freed from frost.
Spring didn’t carry any particular significance to Bay, but something about it this year felt different. Promising.
She couldn’t put her finger on it until fussing from the other end of the room drew her attention away from the window.
Maybe because things are different now.
“I’m coming, Jacey,” she murmured to her three-month-old son. His fussing turned to disgruntled noises as she picked him up, kissing the top of his head. She adored him always, with all of her heart, but the relief that came with being able to get slightly more consistent sleep was a privilege she was immensely grateful for.
“You know,” she said as she set about getting him ready for the day. “This is gonna be the first spring we have as a family of three. Which, probably doesn’t matter to you, but it’s something to think about, isn’t it?”
Jace just grinned up at her, happy just with being in her presence.
She finished dressing and feeding him, then lifted him up to lean against her chest, fingers brushing the fluff of brown hair on his head. “Wanna go find Daddy?” Dylan was in the house somewhere, probably hiding away with coffee. Just her luck that the one drink she valued most in this world would end up keeping baby awake as well as her. Most of the caffeine deprivation had worn off, but the smell was still a temptation.
Jace stuck a fist in his mouth, mumbling around it.
Bay meandered downstairs, glancing around for Dylan. To her surprise, he wasn’t drinking coffee– probably already had it before she woke up– but eating toast smeared with peanut butter and seeming to be in deep thought, staring at the clock.
“Morning.” She walked over to sit down next to him and he jumped slightly, startled.
“Oh, Bay.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come down.” He finished off his toast, wiping his fingers on the paper towel and grinning at the baby. “Morning, buddy.”
She furrowed her brows, worried. “You okay?” Dylan had hawk senses– the only time she startled him was when his PTSD was dragging him off to the past again. But the stormy look his slate-colored eyes took on when he was having flashbacks wasn’t there. Just a sense of distraction.
“Fine, fine. I was just thinking.” He crumpled the peanut butter-stained paper towel and gently took Jace from her. “I left the bread by the toaster.”
“Thanks.” Bay left him with the baby while she ducked into the kitchen for food. “So… care to share what you were thinking about?”
“Eh,” he grunted. “It’s not really important.”
She stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster, jabbed the buttons down, and walked back into the living room so she could stare at him straight, arms crossed– although with the way Jace kept reaching up to bat at his neck, patting Dylan’s previously-stubbled face, it was hard to be serious.
He chuckled nervously, which made Jace start giggling for absolutely no reason. Not a full laugh, but enough that it made Bay snort a little and Dylan laugh.
“Rule number seven, Jace,” he said, bouncing the baby a little. “Don’t lie to your mama. She’ll call ya out.”
“So it is something important.”
Dylan bit his lower lip. “I’m not sure.”
Bay sat down on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”
He exhaled, sitting back. “Well, today is Sunday. And it kind of hit me that we’ve been Christians for a bit now, and it’s been several months since we tried church again.”
Involuntarily, Bay winced, the replay of the last time they had tried church speeding through her head.
It was some power of God that kept her heart from closing off to Christianity all together after that day, and it very nearly had Dylan throwing out the whole thing.
“Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “But I can’t help but wonder, now that things with life are a little more settled, if we should try it again.”
The idea of going out in public had been a source of tension since Jace was born, especially following the bomb attack on the councilhouse by an old Mildecan regime supporter. But that aside… the fact that her father still wasn’t in prison yet…
“You need to get out of the house,” Dylan said softly. “I don’t think you’ve been out once since Jace was born. I know you’re going stir-crazy in here. Maybe trying church would be a good change of pace for the both of us.”
“But we don’t really need it, do we? I mean… you can be a Christian and not have to go to church, right?” It felt sacrilegious to even think something like that, but Bay didn’t feel ready to take Jace out yet. She trusted that Dylan could protect them, but there was still a part of her that felt unsafe outside of their house.
Dylan shrugged. “I was just thinking it could be something we try, and go from there. Besides, this isn’t the same church as before. This is the same congregation that survived Mildecan’s reign– used to be a house church before they got their own building. Jackie’s parents run it and I know it’s been a while since you saw her.”
The mention of her teen mentee, whom she’d been a bit distant from with the hustle of new motherhood, both stabbed her heart with guilt and softened it slightly to the idea.
“I guess, if Jack and Melody run it, it can’t be terrible.” She tried to push away the memories from the last church they went to. “Uh… what time does service start?”
“Two hours.” Dylan nodded at the clock, which said eight-thirty.
“Please don’t tell me there’s a dress code.”
“I’m pretty sure they, of all people, would live by the phrase “come as you are”,” Dylan laughed. “Besides, it’s been a while since you pulled out that trenchcoat.”
She blushed. “You don’t think it would look silly?”
“I’ve only ever thought it looked pretty on you.”
Bay snorted. “Trying flattery?”
“Is it working?” He smirked.
“Maybe a little”
***
Two years earlier
“Come on, Dylan.” Bay fairly dragged her husband down the path to the church building. “We’re already late, and I thought you wanted to come inconspicuously.”
“I’m coming.” His words were set on edge, hands in his pockets as he glanced up at the white building. “Besides, it’s impossible to be inconspicuous anything here.”
There was truth to those words, and it stung. Bay, however, would not be deterred. November had broken from its ashen gray into startling blue, the air felt crisp, and she had hope that maybe, just maybe, being at church as new believers might help ease some of the animosity brewing under the surface since her— and apparently, Dylan’s— arrival.
“Make it your wedding present to me,” she’d begged, using the fact they’d only been married for a week to her advantage.
And so he’d agreed.
Worship was already going when they slipped in through the side doors. She let Dylan choose where they were sitting,and unsurprisingly he chose the back row. Bay tried not to feel self-conscious as several people turned around to stare at them, eyes widening in shock as they recognized them.
Bay folded her arms, sinking into the wooden pew. Dylan characteristically glared back as he wrapped an arm around her, body stiff.
The inquisitive looks returned to focusing on the songs, but as they sat down, the whispers started. Slow and steady, like smoke curling up from dying flames. Never loud enough for Bay to hear the whole thing, just quips.
Keller.
Who had whispered it, she wasn’t sure. But the anger behind it made Dylan flinch.
The pastor strode up, started the sermon. Bay tried to listen, but her mind kept drawing to the whispers.
“Came here a year ago… no not him, the girl… funny how she showed up so soon after him, and then they’re married…”
“Kind of weird how they keep to themselves.”
“What do you expect? He’s a Keller.”
“That girl though, I recognize her…”
Bay took a sharp breath, the spike of fear and shock like electricity running down her spine.
Not possible.
Not possible.
And then she heard the name, the cursed name she wished could have died with part of her soul eleven years ago.
“Baylee Cadieux.”
Dylan heard it too. His body went rigid and he swallowed hard, jaw clenched.
Baylee.
The cost of being the daughter of the Emperor’s second in command, coming to bite her again. No matter where she went, she couldn’t escape it, could she?
People glanced over their shoulders, the judgement, anger, and even a little fear. Her thumb flicked at the fidget band of her wedding ring, willing herself to keep the dark memories crawling through her mind at bay.
And still the whispers continued. She didn’t want to run out of the room during service, but there was a part of her right now that just wanted to run. Away from the staring eyes, the whispers, the fear.
Even the pastor began to realize something was up as the congregation’s attention from the message, ironically on forgiveness, to the couple in the back with too many skeletons in their closet.
As he caught sight of them, every voice in Bay’s head screamed at her to run. She was trapped, no way out, and that awful last name just kept repeating.
Cadieux.
Cadieux
“We’re leaving,” Dylan muttered, standing up.
For once, she didn’t argue with him.
She felt their eyes on them as they left, and only once the cold air outside hit her lungs could she finally breathe again. But with each ragged gasp, the tears fought their way to the surface, scarred pieces of her soul ripped open raw.
I can never escape him, can I?
Here she was, miles and miles from her old prison, and the surname of the man who stole everything from her still plagued her life.
Dylan wrapped an arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her close to him.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, leaning into him. “I didn’t think… I thought they would…” Her voice broke and it was all she could do to keep herself from falling apart right there.
From the steely glint in his eyes, she could tell Dylan was seething, his glare at the church building behind them positively toxic. But he gently led her back down the trail, towards their home.
“Let’s just go home.”
It’s all wrong. What about everything in the Bible that talked about loving others? About fellowship?
I thought they would accept us.
But as always, the past was far more powerful than even the supposed bond of brothers and sisters in Christ.
***
“– Bay?”
Bay jolted out of her reverie, staring wide-eyed as she tried to remember what Dylan was saying to her. “What?”
He’d parked the car and nodded to the tiny building smaller than a grocery store. “We’re here.”
“Oh.”
She’d gotten caught up in her memories from the past. The building didn’t look like the church, but the old anxiety crawled in her gut, mixed with the new anxiety of having to take Jace in there.
What if he starts crying and interrupts the whole service…
“Hey.” Dylan reached over, squeezing her hand. “It’s different this time. I know it is. Take a deep breath.”
His confidence was startling. She rubbed her eyes. “You sound awfully confident for never coming here.”
He shrugged. “I might have come once.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Dylan chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s a long story but… yeah. This place is different. And there’s a lot of people we know.”
“But Jace–”
“There’s lots of little kids here. He’ll be fine.”
Bay swallowed.
Dylan jumped out of the truck, worked his way around to the side to pull Jace out of his car seat. Bay opened the door on her side in time for him to stand in front of her, offering the baby out like he was baiting her.
“You can stay in the car, if you really want. But Jace is coming to church with me.” Dylan grinned at her, as Jace cackled and kicked his legs.
“That’s not fair,” she muttered. “You can’t use him as bait.”
“Follow the baby,” Dylan said in his poor attempt at a ghost voice, carefully walking backwards.
Bay sighed, then grabbed her bag, jumping out of the car. “Fine. I’m coming.”
She took Jace from him, smirking. “How are you two so dang irresistable?”
“Because he is adorable.” Dylan pecked a kiss on her temple. “And you love me.”
“Heh.” Bay leaned against him. “I do.”
They were characteristically late– the pastor, who of all people happened to be Jack Wolf, Jackie’s dad, was walking up to the front. Bay and Dylan slipped into the last free seats in the back. To her surprise and joy, Jackie and her mother Melody sat in the row ahead of them. Jackie must have caught sight of them from the corner of her eye because she turned around in her seat as they came over, grinning.
“Hi!” she whispered. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Bay.” Her eyes lit up as she looked down at Jace. “He’s getting so big!”
“He is,” Bay agreed, finding herself smiling. “Yeah, Dylan decided we should try church this Sunday.”
“We’re glad to have you here,” Melody said, her voice a soft kind of motherly. She nodded at Jace. “And if you do need a quieter area to take care of him… side door, to the right.”
The resource of such privacy lifted a weight off Bay’s shoulders. She sighed, sitting back and leaning against Dylan as Jack started into a sermon about a passage from the Psalms.
She still half expected the stares and whispers, but anyone who noticed them was a familiar face, welcoming with a happily surprised smile. The one or two whispers came from a few kids in the middle row, glancing over their shoulders at them with awe.
“I told you,” Dylan murmured. “It’s different here.”
“It is.” She smiled down at Jace, who calmly sucked on his pacifier as he dozed. “I kinda like it.”
Part of her anxiety still twitched, still looked for an excuse to run.
But maybe trying out church wouldn’t be so bad.
***
Behold how good and pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together.
~ Psalm 133:1