Renata and the Fall from Grace

by Becky Doughty

  Juliette reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Granny G got up from her seat and circled the table to hug her. Phoebe leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, then laughed at the red lip marks she left behind. Gia smiled, dewy-eyed herself, and the three guys just nodded and looked a little awkward in the face of all the female emotions.

  John wouldn't want her to wallow. He'd be happy knowing she was here, letting her family carry her along in his absence.

  He'd be happy she'd gone to church this morning.

  He'd be happy to know that Tim was watching out for her and his sons. And his daughter.

  But would he be happy that his wife was beginning to dream about Tim? To miss him when he wasn't there? Would he be happy to know that she was going to push him away before her heart—and their boys' hearts—could be broken?

  At two o'clock, her phone rang. Tim's number showed up on the screen and her traitorous heart skipped a beat. She excused herself from the living room where they were lounging, letting their food digest before they all went their separate ways. Granny G had gone to her room to rest for a bit. Grandpa was asleep in his easy chair and Phoebe was sketching him. Juliette and Victor were talking quietly, giving the long-suffering artist pointers on how to improve her portrait.

  "Hello," Renata said into the phone as she stepped out onto the front porch.

  "Hi, Mom." It was Reuben, and as much as her heart filled with love to hear his voice after so many days apart, she couldn't ignore the little jolt of disappointment that it hadn't been Tim's deep voice greeting her on the other end.

  "Hey, honey. You guys heading home soon?" She was suddenly anxious to see them all.

  "Actually, Tim told me to call you because we're already in the car and we'll probably be home in an hour, if that's okay. He said if you're busy, he can take us to his house first, then bring us home at five or six like we'd planned." He spoke carefully, as though he'd rehearsed what he was supposed to say to her.

  "Oh goodness, honey. Come home! I'm over at Granny G's right now, but we're just watching Aunt Phoebe draw pictures of Grandpa while he's sleeping, so I can leave any time." She leaned against the door frame, the heat making her feel limp. "Did you have a good time?"

  "Oh yeah!" His voice grew animated as he began to regale her with some anecdote about fishing, then she heard the sounds of an argument breaking out in the background. Tim's voice rumbled over the top of things and she giggled when she heard the impatient tone of it. He must be exhausted.

  "Reuben?" She had to say his name three times before she got his attention. "Why don't you wait to tell me about it when you get here. We'll get you boys cleaned up, then we'll eat dinner together and everyone can be a part of it, okay?"

  "Okay. That's what Tim just said, too."

  Of course. "Good. Then I think that's a good plan." She paused just a moment, then added, "And tell Tim he's invited to stay for dinner, too."

  Reuben immediately relayed the message, to Renata's chagrin, but a moment later he said, "Tim's cool with that. What are we having?"

  "Spaghetti and Mama meatballs."

  "Yes!" He hooted out the plan to the rest of them and the celebratory shrieks coming through the phone were deafening. She was pretty sure Tim was making just as much noise as the rest of them.

  They said their goodbyes, then she went inside to let the family know she was heading out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  By the time Tim arrived, Renata already had the garage door up so they could unload the camping gear easily and stash it where it needed to go. The boys piled out of the cab and charged her, each of them greeting her with great enthusiasm, even Simon.

  "Did you miss us, Mommy?" Judah asked, his face smudged and dirty, his red hair standing on end.

  "Oh Judah, I missed you like crazy!" she exclaimed, crouching down to hug him so she wouldn't have to lift him up. He was still small and wiry and if she hadn't been pregnant, she would have swooped him up, but she wasn't taking any chances with stuff like that. She'd already done enough straining over the last few days with carrying boxes and moving some of the lighter pieces of furniture around in her room, and she felt it in her back and shoulders.

  The boys all hurried inside to use the bathroom and get something to drink. Tim climbed out from behind the wheel a little slower than usual, and she laughed when she saw him. He looked absolutely wiped out. He was almost as grungy as Judah and his hair looked ratty and dirty. He struck a pose, obviously well aware of what a sight he was.

  "Renata, I never imagined how much work they could be," he muttered. "You, Mrs. Dixon, are a saint. That's all I have to say in my defense."

  "Hey, give yourself some credit," she exclaimed. "You brought all four of them home in one piece. No one is crying, no one is bleeding, and none of them have any new pets, do they? No lizards or freaky insects?" She couldn't keep the smile off her face.

  "I checked their pockets before I let them in the truck. Judah tried to bring home a dead—"

  Renata held up a hand to stop him. "I don't want to know."

  Tim laughed heartily and agreed that she probably didn't. He sighed, then eyed the cargo strapped down under the tarp in the truck bed. She took pity on him.

  "Hey. It's early. Why don't you just dump everything on the floor in the garage, go home and get cleaned up. Take a nap if you want. Then come back for spaghetti in a couple hours, okay?"

  He didn't seem convinced, so she poked him in the chest. "I won't let you in my house smelling like this. You want to eat my famous spaghetti, you shower first."

  He grinned then, and all the dirt in the world couldn't hide how lovely that smile was. "Aye, aye, Captain," he said, snapping his heels together and saluting her. "Send out the troops and we'll make short work of this first."

  She turned to head inside, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. He was awfully close to her and he really didn't smell so bad after all.

  "They're great. Your boys. You should be proud of them."

  Renata beamed. They were great, she knew that, and she was very proud of them. "I know," she said quietly. "Thank you, Tim. You have no idea how important this trip will be to them for years to come."

  He nodded. "And you? How did you do?" he asked. "How's the baby?" His eyes dropped to her stomach and stayed there for several moments, almost as though watching for movement. Baby D was completely still at the moment, though, having worn herself out dancing in church.

  "We did all right," she said, choosing to be honest. "Had a couple rough moments, but God stuck around all weekend." She patted her belly. "This one is already good company, too."

  "Good. We prayed for you every night, Renata. We—the boys missed you," he amended. His voice was husky, low, and she needed to get back on solid ground.

  "Oh right," she quipped, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure they did. In between catching fish, hiking, roasting hotdogs and marshmallows, drinking coffee, telling ghost stories around the campfire…I'm sure they missed me terribly."

  Tim laughed again and nodded. "You certainly know your men folk. Well, they are glad to be home, I can assure you that."

  "Not such a good cook, are you?" she teased, turning back toward the house. She had to get away from him. It was too easy, too good, too much.

  "Actually," he called out after her. "I'm pretty good in the kitchen. One of these days I'm going to cook for you, Mrs. Dixon." She kept walking, her pulse racing.

  After Tim had gone, she put Judah in the bathtub in her room and the three older boys took turns in the shower in the other one. She had to send Simon back in when she caught a whiff of his wet, unwashed hair. After Judah got out of the tub, she had him lie down on her bed with a few books while she went to the kitchen to check on the spaghetti sauce. By the time she got back to the bedroom, he was fast asleep, a book clutched to his chest.

  "I love you, little man," she said, kissing his forehead. She'd let
him sleep for a half an hour or so, but not any longer.

  She sent the other three to walk the dogs down to Granny G's place to say 'hi' to whoever was still there, and in the ensuing stillness in the house, she thanked God for bringing her children home to her.

  Singing a soft lullaby to Baby D, she was putting together a fresh green salad when she heard the door from the garage open. She turned, expecting to see the boys. It was Tim, come back a little earlier than she'd expected. Tim, looking like a new man, his hair clean and curling long around his face, his beard neatly trimmed. She caught a whiff of his cologne, the male fragrance making her nostrils flare slightly in appreciation. Jeans and a plaid shirt over a white t-shirt; did the man have anything else in his wardrobe? Did the man need anything else in his wardrobe? She certainly wasn't complaining.

  "Oh! Hi. Come in." She washed her hands and dried them on the towel hanging over the handle of the dishwasher, busying herself for a moment while she collected her wayward thoughts. "The boys are down the block at my grandparents. Except Judah. He's napping."

  "I see. Um," Tim paused just inside the door. "Do you want me to come back when they're here?"

  She smiled, trying to put him at ease. Trying to act like she was at ease. "No, of course not. They'll be back any minute. Come in." Then she remembered the job she had for him.

  "Actually, there's something you could help me with. Would you mind?"

  "Anything," he exclaimed, apparently relieved to have something to do.

  They stepped out into the garage and she apologized for the heat, glad she'd left the door up all afternoon. Giving him directions, he climbed up into the attic storage John had built several years ago, and located the crib they'd dismantled and stored up there. It had been through all four boys and needed a good scrub down and probably a fresh coat of paint, but it was a great crib, complete with an old-fashioned canopy, and she loved it.

  Tim insisted on putting it together for her, so she brought a floor fan out to the garage for him. By the time he had it assembled, the boys had returned with the dogs, Levi carrying a plastic container of brownies.

  "Perfect," Renata declared. "I have vanilla ice cream, too. Reuben, will you go wake up Judah, please?"

  CHAPTER FORTY

  The meal turned out perfectly. Judah woke up in a good mood, much to everyone's surprise. No one spilled a drink, no one lost a meatball, and everyone ate until they had no room left for another bite of ice cream.

  "Movie time!" Reuben declared, launching himself over the arm of the couch and sprawling on his back on the cushions, arms flung wide. Then he looked back at Renata to gauge her reaction, his eyes pleading permission.

  She nodded, a sense of well-being washing over her at the sight of the four heads congregated in their living room. It was good to have her family home again.

  She glanced over at Tim who still sat at the table with her, his big hand wrapped loosely around his half-empty coffee cup. He, too, was watching the boys with the kind of look she used to see on John's face. Suddenly he turned his gaze to her and caught her watching him, a slow grin lifting the corners of his mouth.

  Renata ducked her head and stared down into her peppermint tea. She had to get this over with before she lost her nerve. The sun had just disappeared beyond the horizon and the stars were beginning to blink into existence. It wasn't by any means chilly outside, but there was a breeze blowing; she could see leaves skittering across the patio in the glow from the porch light. "Tim?"

  The expression on his face softened noticeably when she said his name. It didn't matter how much she'd practiced what she would say to him. This was going to be harder than she could have imagined.

  The boys had settled on The Incredibles and were hunkering down for the long haul. She stood up and raised her voice to be heard over the previews. "Guys, Tim and I are going to go out back for some fresh air. We'll be right outside if you need us, okay?" She didn't look at Tim, but from the corner of her eye, she could see him straighten in his seat.

  Reuben waved a hand over his shoulder and Judah hollered, "Okay, Mommy! Bye!"

  She rose and refilled Tim's coffee. "I need to talk to you," she murmured by way of explanation.

  He nodded and followed her past the boys and out the sliding glass door. She didn't want to sit under the porch light because she thought she might cry, and she didn't want the boys to worry if they happened to look out at them. Instead, she made her way across the yard to a bench that sat beneath the huge sycamore tree where Judah's swing hung. The bench had been a birthday gift to her from John and the boys, and had an elegant 'R' emblazoned on the scrolled backrest.

  Tim followed without a word. Renata waved at the bench, indicating he sit, then remembered after he did that Tim had actually made the bench, commissioned by John. She sighed at the irony of the situation and lowered herself carefully onto the wooden seat of Judah's swing, unable to be still. She kicked off her sandals, and using her bare toes, she set herself in motion just enough that she wouldn't have to look at Tim, even though his face was in shadows and she couldn't really see his eyes very well anyway.

  Before she could say another word, he spoke first. She could hear a smile in his voice. "I was hoping to talk to you, too. I was going to wait until after dinner, but I couldn't sit still at home. That's why I came back early this afternoon."

  "Oh." She gave herself another little push. "Why didn't you say so? The crib could have waited."

  He shrugged, his big shoulders moving slowly up and back down. "Honestly, I lost my nerve," he said.

  When he didn't expound, she prodded him along. "So what did you want to talk about?" Maybe this was good. Maybe he could do the talking. Either way, her heart was going to break, but at least if he said that he thought it was the best thing for them, then she wouldn't have to lie about how she felt.

  Tim sipped his coffee but didn't speak. He twisted a little on the bench and ran his thumb over the prominent R, as though examining his handiwork.

  "It's so beautiful, Tim," she acknowledged. "Your work is remarkable. That bench is very special to me."

  "I'm glad," he responded, his voice gentle, matter of fact. The breeze kicked up again, sending some of his long curls across his face. He didn't seem to notice. Renata waited, wishing paradoxically that John were there to give her courage.

  Finally, Tim set his cup down on the bench beside him and sat forward, elbows on his knees. "Renata, it's been almost six months since John's accident." He released a puff of air, the sound almost a snort. "Something I'm sure you, of all people, already know."

  Renata smiled sadly. Yes, she knew almost down to the hour, but at least she was no longer counting the minutes.

  "I've wanted to talk to you about this for some time now, but I didn't want to put you in a difficult position." He reached down and picked up a twig, spinning it between his thumb and forefinger. Renata chewed on her lip, impatient now to get things out on the table, but wanting him to be the one to do it. He continued slowly, weighing out his words carefully.

  "You're already carrying so much on your shoulders. Your grief, the boys having to adjust to their dad being gone. And with this new baby, I just felt like I needed to wait a little longer. To be sure she was…that you weren't going to…lose her, too."

  Renata clenched her teeth, tired of feeling tied up in knots about her feelings toward him. Why did he have to be so nice about it? They needed to get this over with."Listen, Tim. I'm a big girl. And I have an even bigger God who I've been learning to lean on in a whole new way. I'll be the first to admit that I'm a basket case sometimes. I get overwhelmed at the thought of doing life alone, of being both dad and mom to those boys, to this new little one." She rested a hand on her stomach. "But I've got a wonderful support system with my family. They're the best, you know?"

  She met his gaze, wanting him to see how sincere she was. "We're much better now, Tim. You don't need to keep coming anymore. You've been a great friend. Bet
ter than any man could ask for. But talk about burdens! I know how much of burden my little troop can be. I saw your face today when you got home. I know how completely worn out you felt. It's a lot, isn't it?"

  Tim had straightened up in the seat, and even in the shadows, she could see he was frowning.

  "It's all right, really. I know you've said we're not an obligation to you, but if it hadn't been for your friendship to John, you'd feel differently, I know. I release you of any duty you feel you may have toward us. We're doing so much better now, and a lot of the thanks goes to you. I can't tell you how grateful I am for—"

  "You release me? From my duty?" Tim cut her off, his words low, but sharp. Renata caught her breath, surprised by the brisk tone. "As in, 'Job well done, soldier. Here's your honorary discharge papers?'"

  Renata let her breath out in a whoosh and pushed the swing into motion again, suddenly more nervous than ever. Obviously, she'd said something wrong. "Well, yes, I guess if you want to put it that way." How could she tell him that she had to make him leave before she fell in love with him?

  Who was she kidding? How could she tell him he had to leave before she started building her life around him? Because she already loved him and it wasn't right and it was too soon and no one would understand and they would all assume the worst and—and she didn't even understand how it had happened, herself. She shook her head at how pitiful the truth really was. She couldn't tell him any of it, because knowing him, he would try to take responsibility for her own misguided feelings and that would be even more embarrassing.