“That you are. I like you, Charly Livingston.”
“I like you, Rance Butler.” After a few minutes, her eyes skittered away, embarrassed.
As their server arrived, Charly looked down, away from him, her full concentration in placing the linen napkin on her lap. In the ambient light of the restaurant, he could see pink infusing her neck and face. He kept looking at her, feeling his cares flow away and yet feeling his heart beat faster.
Chapter Eight
This couldn’t be happening. She had dated a few guys since high school, but this? This was different. When they sat there at the table, staring into one another’s eyes, it was unlike any encounter she had ever had. There was something, maybe it was chemistry. Whatever it was, something drew them to one another.
Rance walked her to the front door, not offering to kiss her, instead taking both her hands in his and telling her he had enjoyed the evening. After he left, she went inside. Leaning on the door, she wasn’t ready to talk to her mother. Maybe she wasn’t home yet. No, the television in her mother’s room was on. She might not be able to see, but the Secondary Audio Programming setting on the television had been a blessing to Mom.
She stood there, eyes closed, and began to pray.
“Okay, Lord, I’m so unsure here. I’ve committed to dating the man You want. Could it be Rance?”
“Charly? Is that you?”
“Yes, Mom, I just got in.” She put her purse on the hall table, took off her sandals, and carried them to her mother’s room, and then crawled up on her bed with her. “It was a nice evening.”
“I’m glad.”
“He said to tell you hello, and to enjoy the babies he helped deliver.”
Mom laughed. “Oh, and I did. They’re growin’ so fast.” She sighed. “Tell me about your date.” She clicked the television off and put the remote on her bedside table.
“We went to the Harbor Walk in Georgetown, did some window shopping, and then ate at Alfresco Bistro.” She would share the bare bones. It was all her mother needed to know, at this point anyway.
“Sounds nice. What did you order?”
Safe topic. “I had the Crab Jalapeño Tomato Bisque and scallops with risotto. Oh, Mom, it was so good. You would love the bisque. It was hot but not too hot.”
“Says you. You got your daddy’s tolerance for heat, for sure.”
They laughed together. Charly leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “We had a good time.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t plan anything, and with his schedule at the hospital, it’s hard to plan very far in advance.” Would he call?
“He’ll call.”
“You don’t know that.” She didn’t want to get her hopes up.
“I have a feeling.”
“What is it with you and your ‘feelings’?”
“I was right about Lucy, wasn’t I?”
Charly sighed. “You were.”
“Is he a believer?” She heard a slight hesitation in her mother’s voice.
“I don’t know, Mama. We didn’t go there.”
Mom reached for her hand and squeezed. “Then we need to pray about it.”
“I already have been.”
Her mother nodded and began to pray. “Lord, God, we ask for favor tonight. We ask that You touch Rance’s heart if it hasn’t been touched before, and that You would strengthen it if You have. All this for Your sake, and for Rance’s sake, and not for our own.”
Charly kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thank you, and good night. I have to be at church early tomorrow. Praise band has practice before Sunday School.”
“I’ll be ready when you are. Love you, baby girl.”
“Love you, too, Mama.”
She picked up her sandals from the foot of the bed and turned out the light in her mother’s room, then made her way to her bedroom.
What did the Bible say about being “unequally yoked?” It was always a mystery to her, and it hadn’t come up before. Maybe she had missed the mark by not finding out more about his spiritual life.
It might be a moot point. He might never call again. He might think she was the most boring girl he’d ever dated. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she shook her head. Maybe he’s not the one.
When he got home, Rance picked up his phone. Was it too soon to call? Maybe a text. He’d had a great time with her. Maybe they could spend Sunday together. It was too soon. Maybe she hadn’t been as impressed as he. She wasn’t like any girl he’d dated before. In fact, he figured his friends would declare her not “his type,” whatever that meant. He hadn’t had time in the last three years to do much more than skim the surface of dates anyway. Many of those dates had been fix-ups, and none of them garnered a second thought, much less a second date. Charly Livingston was different.
His phone vibrated in his hand. Mom. He didn’t want to talk to her at this point. She wanted him to make her feel better. To justify her abandoning one son and deceiving another. His deep sigh did little to alleviate the irritation he felt at this moment. He pushed the button.
“Hi, Mom.” That was all.
There was a slight pause on the other end. “Rance, I need to talk to you.”
“About?”
“Well, about your father.”
Dead silence.
“Which one? The one that fathered me or the one I’ve called ‘Dad’ for twenty-eight years?”
An audible sniffle over the phone made him stop and close his eyes. The remark was uncalled for. She was his mother, after all, and he was raised better. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“No, sweetheart, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was wrong to keep you in the dark. This is what happens when you let lie pile on top of lie.”
“Nobody’s perfect.” He shook his head in disgust with himself. This was the best he could come up with?
“I know you’re hurt. Ashton was so angry with me for telling you before he got home. There were a few things he wanted to go over with you before you left.”
“What ‘things’ did he want to go over?”
“He wanted to make sure you understood his position. He didn’t have to marry me. He didn’t have to make you his son, but he did.” She paused. “He wanted to have more children. I was the one who was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“I was afraid after a while I might fail all of my children. I couldn’t risk it.”
What could he say to this? Maybe, “Thanks Mom, for depriving me of not only a brother, but any other siblings I may have had?” Or perhaps, “So you decided to smother me with attention and cheat the man I thought my father out of his own children?” It was so messed up.
“It’s late, and I’ve been working doubles this week. I’ll come down in the morning if Dad will be home.” Should he call Ashton Butler “Dad?”
His mother cleared her throat and sniffed. She was trying to pull herself together before facing her husband. Then the muffled sound of two voices. “That sounds good, Rance.” She paused. “Everything I did was to protect you. I wanted you to know.”
“Good night, Mom.”
“Love you, Son.”
He hung up without answering.
Chapter Nine
A smile bloomed on Charly’s face when she saw Tom, Lucy, Hayes, and the twins enter the back of the sanctuary and sit in the pew behind Emma and Sophie. Still new at playing guitar for the praise team, she let her innate shyness dissipate as she let the joy of seeing her family sitting in their rightful place at Calvary Church. Sure, they ran late today, but what couple with brand-new twins wouldn’t?
Concentrate. Lydia gave her a thumbs-up from her spot as vocalist on the platform. She glanced over at Sarah, back at the keyboard for the first time since Beau was born six weeks ago. It was so good to have her back. Sarah winked at her and turned to the music on the stand. After an opening of the traditional “Doxology,” the band was leading worship.
Praise Go
d from whom all blessings flow!
Praise Him all creatures here below!
Praise Him above all heavenly host!
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
A-men!
So many blessings had come her way. Praise God, indeed, for these precious new babies. Her life wasn’t perfect, but it was blessed. She had her mother, her brother and his family, a job she loved. What more could she expect?
A life of her own, perhaps? Don’t go there. Not now. Concentrate on the music. It’s what I’m here for at this moment. “For such a time as this.”
Sometimes it was hard, being selfless. Wow. If you call yourself selfless, did you kind of undo the whole selfless part? She wondered if she was, or if it was easier for her to skim the surface and do what was expected of her. Fly under the radar. For quite some time, it had been her goal. She kept her head down, did what she was supposed to do, and nobody knew what was going on inside. If they did, they would be appalled.
After the worship set of songs, she pulled the guitar strap over her head, laid her pick on the music stand, and removed the earbud from her ear. Her preference would have been to rush down the aisle and sit with her mother, brother, and family, maybe hold one of the twins, but her desire to stay unobtrusive sent her to a seat beside Lydia in the “amen pew” behind the keyboard.
Now it was time for the weekly guilt-fest. The last few weeks Charly wondered if the pastor had talked to her mother. She was sure the sermons were meant for her because for a while now all the messages she heard hit her between the eyes.
And today was no different. For you are saved by grace through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is God’s gift––not from works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2. Ugh. It’s not as if she didn’t know her salvation was from grace. It felt like it wasn’t enough. She worked.
Grace. Emma latched on to the pastor’s words. She knew grace was God’s gift, and He had given it to her in abundance. It had nothing to do with anything she had done.
If she hadn’t believed in God’s grace, she wouldn’t have survived her husband’s death. Without warning, one day he didn’t wake up. He was twenty-nine years old and had survived two tours in Afghanistan, only to be taken out by an undiagnosed heart problem. She took Sophie’s hand and squeezed it, smiling when she saw the look of confusion on her daughter’s face.
Had she neglected her daughter by not having a father-figure in her life? Sophie was a smart, well-adjusted girl who was more of an adult than she had been at fifteen. Had she left something vital out of her daughter’s upbringing by swearing off men?
She kept busy. She had a business to run, a daughter to raise, church work, community work, and all the school events a varsity soccer player and band kid had to attend. It was a good life.
Not that she was bragging. She hadn’t made it a good life, God had, and she knew it.
She had to admit that sometimes, in the dark of night or the mist of morning, she was lonely. She didn’t expect to become a widow at twenty-seven. She didn’t expect to raise a daughter alone, but God became her refuge, her constant strength in times of trouble. Funny how those verses came to her when she needed them. Sometimes it was with an emotional mom or bride, and sometimes it was for her own edification.
A tiny cry behind her made her smile and glance over her shoulder to see Lucy digging into her bag for a pacifier which was not welcomed by Miss MariAnne.
What was this feeling deep inside of her that she wanted to feel again? God? Do you have more parenting in me than Sophie?
She shook her head and would have laughed if it weren’t the wrong time to do so. Surely not. She was too old for this.
When she looked over at her beautiful daughter, more similar to her dad every day, she was amazed. God was doing a work in both their lives, and she was so thankful. Daniel would be proud.
His mother kissed him on the cheek when he came through the back door. He let her but didn’t return the kiss. The drive down from Georgetown gave Rance plenty of time to think, but it didn’t serve to clear his head. He was still angry. He did realize one thing. He was disappointed.
Ashton Butler, the man he had called “Dad” all his life, sat at the breakfast table.
“Good morning, Son.” Ashton pushed his breakfast plate aside and looked down at his coffee cup.
“Dad.”
His mother brought over the coffee pot and a mug. “Let me get you some coffee.”
“I’m good, Mom. I drank a big cup on the way down.” He noticed his mother had a difficult time meeting his eyes.
He sat across from Ashton, next to his mother, at the round, oak table. It had been the kitchen table since before he could remember. It’s where all the “family meetings” were held, where discipline was meted, where bills were paid, and where games were played. A multi-use piece of furniture.
“Mom said you had some things you needed to tell me.” The ball was in their court. Let them try to explain why his entire life was a lie.
His mother put her hand on her husband’s arm. Whether it was to give him strength or to gain it for herself, he didn’t know.
“Rance, I’m sorry you’ve been dealt such a blow.” Dad looked up at him, a mist of tears in his eyes. “Now you know, and I wanted to let you know I never considered you less than my own son. You were mine. As far as the world knows, you are my son. My parents questioned our marrying in a hurry and never said another word once I told them we had made our minds up. I’m sure they wondered when you were so early, but that’s how they are. They keep quiet and go on.”
“Did you ever wonder why I never felt close to them?” Rance gazed into his dad’s face, feeling the hurt in his chest as if there was a knife sticking out of it.
“They’re not demonstrative folks, as you know.”
“Maybe if we’d had other children . . .” Mom pulled her hand away and twisted at a napkin. “I was so afraid.”
“And what about Sam? Did you know he went to prison?”
Tears began to stream down her face. She whispered. “Yes.”
“There’s no reason to upset your mother, Rance.”
“No reason? She tells me my life is a lie, you’re not my father, and I have a brother I’ve never met, and you don’t want me to upset her?” He stressed the last word. “I know all families have their quirks. I’m not naïve. Did you know that I learned what I know about my family from the Internet? I looked up my father’s family, their business, and the news articles about Sam’s indictment.”
His mother looked up at him, the sorrow on her face palpable. “I can’t undo the past, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I only told you now so you might be able to help him.”
“Help who? Sam?”
“No, your father. Clifton Watson.”
Chapter Ten
Rance looked down at the chart in his hand. He’d known it would happen since “the talk” with his mom and dad. Clifton Watson. His biological father. His father, and the father of the brother he never knew. After his Internet detective work, he wondered if he wanted to meet this family he had never known about.
Flipping through the information, he frowned. The person listed as next-of-kin was odd. No family, just his lawyer, William Schumaker, here in Georgetown. In a way, it made sense. The man’s father was dead, his son was in prison, and he didn’t know Rance existed. Had he never remarried?
Armed with a little information and a lot of uncertainty, he entered the hospital room. He wasn’t ready for what he saw. Besides the usual machines, tubes, and wires present in a patient with kidney failure, the man’s face stopped him in his tracks.
When Clifton Watson turned to see who had come in, a small smile lit his face. No recognition, just an easy smile and brilliant blue eyes. It was like looking into a mirror. The lines in his face indicated his sickness and age, but the smile? It explained the question of who he looked like when it was certain he didn’t take after Ashton Butler, the man who was, to the world, his fath
er.
“Mr. Watson, I’m Dr. Butler.” He shook the hand that extended to him. “I’m in residency, working with Dr. Hobgood, and he wanted me to check in on you.”
“Always good to meet a friendly face. Not that the nursing staff isn’t great. They take good care of me.”
“How are you feeling today?” He couldn’t stop staring at the man.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose. You’re the doctor, you tell me.” Clifton chuckled. “I’ve been given a death sentence. Or maybe it’s a life sentence. When you’re as low on the list for kidney transplants as I am, you start thinking more and more about the life to come, when all this is over.”
Rance tilted his head. This wasn’t what he expected.
“Your numbers aren’t where we want them to be. However, if a kidney became available, and it was a match, your chances would be good. Without it, dialysis is as good as it gets. What about your family? Any possibility of a donor there?”
A cloud came over the man’s face but soon lifted. “Most of my family is gone, and those left are either not a match or are not willing to donate a kidney. Can’t blame ‘em. After all, I’ve lived my life, and they have theirs still to live. I’m sure some of them think I don’t deserve it.”
“I see.” He didn’t see. Where was the man his mother described? Where was the workaholic she said was so hard to please? The man driven to impress a father who ruled with an iron fist?
If he hadn’t learned about Clifton Watson, he might have been looking at this man in the mirror in the coming years without any clue as to why it had happened. What had happened to change him?
“I won’t keep you . . .”
“As you can see, I’m not going anywhere.” The rumble of his bass voice with a tinge of sarcasm made Rance grin.
Carolina Grace (Southern Breeze Series Book 3) Page 6