Sweetest Desires (A Sweetest Day Romance)

by Beverly Taylor

  Katharine closed her eyes for a moment and nodded, understanding his need to escape from this conversation.

  He rushed out of the room.

  Before Katharine could compose her thoughts, she heard Bethany shouting, “Mommy!”

  Katharine rushed into the den to find Bethany sitting on the floor, crying. CJ slouched on the sofa, as if in authority, with the remote in hand, channel surfing.

  “What’s the problem?” Katharine asked, looking between the two.

  “CJ changed the channel,” Bethany sniffed. “I was watching The Berenstain Bears.”

  Katharine’s hands went to her hips. “Okay, that’s enough for tonight, you two. Let’s get ready for homework and bed.”

  “Mommy, CJ needs to pray. He’s been acting really mean.”

  “And what about you?” CJ snapped. “You need to pray too.”

  “We all need to pray,” Katharine said matter-of-factly, taking the remote from CJ and hitting the off button. All of them knelt and bowed their heads, and Katharine led a family prayer. Afterwards, she scooted them off to do homework, allowing CJ to lie across his parents’ bed to do his.

  Two hours later, after baths and tucking the children in their beds, she returned to her room. The silence brought tears to her eyes. She dropped to her knees, clutched her hands together, and began to talk to God again, this time on a more personal note.

  “Oh, Lord. Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. Make him stop. Make her leave him alone. Make him happy with me again. My heart desires to please him. I’m committed to my marriage. It’s hard work, Lord, but you have made us one and satan’s trying to destroy what you’ve put together. I respect and reverence my husband for being the head of his home, but he has obligations too. Please lead and guide us. Help us to avoid arguments and to keep our marriage holy. Help us to teach our children to be devout and responsible Christians.”

  Feeling no comfort, she moaned in despair until her own moaning snapped her to her senses. She sat up, glancing around wildly and rubbing the heels of her hands against her eye sockets.

  The pillow beside her was empty now, but it still bore the imprint of CJ’s head.

  * * *

  Carson arrived home around two o’clock in the morning. As he inserted the key into the lock, he hoped Katharine would be sound asleep. He was in no mood for quarreling. He was exhausted and gritty-eyed, and he wanted to sleep for about twenty hours undisturbed, but he had an early morning appointment.

  No such luck. Katharine was sitting up in bed with the lamp on, reading an inspirational book. When Carson entered the room, she offered a mousy greeting then charged right in with the details of her exasperating day with CJ.

  “I’m sorry you had such a rough time with CJ,” Carson said, trying to sound sympathetic. “Mine wasn’t exactly a mardi gras, either. I’m going to shower. Then let’s go to bed and sleep it off, okay?”

  Katharine turned off the light, but when Carson finished his shower and reentered the bedroom, she was waiting for him between the sheets with lots of questions.

  She snapped on the nightstand lamp. “Carson, we need to talk.”

  “Not now, please, Kat. I’m exhausted.” He was too tired for an our-marriage-is-in-trouble talk tonight.

  Disregarding his fatigue and foul mood, she launched into a familiar litany on the problems with their marriage, harping on his shortcomings and especially on her discovery of the girlie magazines.

  “I’m not going to talk about this tonight, Kat,” he said, his voice edged with irritation. He switched off the lamp and buried his head in the pillow.

  “Let not the sun go down on your wrath,” Katharine said.

  “Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing,” he mumbled. “It’ll probably be best if I sleep in the other room.” He pulled off his covers and left.

  * * *

  Carson woke before Katharine. Watching her sleep, he realized he needed to make some changes. He wished she were as happy that he’d received the AJA award as Cindy seemed to be.

  He was sure Cindy, as his friend and a professional counselor, had his best interests at heart. She’d told him that in order to avoid arguments, he needed to escape his bad relationship. In other words, he had to leave Katharine.

  His reverie was interrupted by light tapping on the bedroom door. He opened it and Bethany jumped into his arms.

  “What are you doing up, young lady?” he whispered, lifting her up and kissing her on the cheek.

  “It’s time to go to school,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Daddy, CJ’s been mean to me,” she added. She’d probably gone to bed with that thought on her mind.

  “Well, we’ll take care of CJ. Don’t you worry about that.” He lowered her to the floor. “Now go brush your teeth and get ready for breakfast.”

  “But Mommy didn’t put any clothes out for me to wear today.”

  “Okay, let’s take a look and see what we can come up with.” He scooted her out the room and down the hall to her closet to select an outfit—a pair of khaki Oshkosh overalls and a long-sleeved pink top with a crew neck.

  “Daddy, can you pick out my clothes all the time?”

  He tickled her tummy. “I don’t think your mom would like that, Cherry Blossom,” his personal nickname for Bethany.

  Bethany giggled.

  Since Katharine was still asleep, Carson woke CJ and told him to get dressed and come down to breakfast. He poured himself a bowl of Cornflakes and set out bowls, spoons, milk, and boxes of the children’s favorite, cold, sugary cereals—the kind of breakfast Katharine permitted only on Saturday mornings.

  As he was pouring orange juice for everyone and trying to remember how to make coffee, the children came in and sat down. Bethany squealed with delight. “Cereal!”

  After grace, Carson talked with CJ about his behavior toward his sister.

  “Bethany is your sister and I understand her tattletales can be aggravating to you. If you talk nicely to her, she’ll talk nicely to you and may not be as annoying.”

  CJ promised to do better. Bethany gobbled her cereal eagerly, but CJ seemed oddly uninterested in his breakfast.

  “I don’t wanna go to school today,” he said, stirring his soggy cereal with his spoon.

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause my teacher don’t like me.”

  “I’m sure she does like you, CJ. She’s just unhappy with your inconsistencies. But you’re going to fix that, right?”

  CJ nodded, still looking unhappy. Probably, he didn’t know what inconsistencies meant, but at least he knew it had something to do with his behavior and he seemed to be cooperating. Carson decided not to push the matter any further.

  Katharine stepped into the kitchen just when everyone had finished eating. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

  “You were sound asleep, so I thought I’d give you a break this morning,” Carson said, smiling.

  Katharine’s eyes widened in surprise as if she wasn’t sure what to make of his cheery disposition. “Thank you,” she said in a civil tone. “CJ, go brush your hair, and Bethany, come here so I can comb yours.”

  “I’ll drop them off at school on my way to the office,” Carson offered.

  “Don’t worry about it. I have a conference with CJ’s teacher this morning, so I’ll take them.”

  “It’s already seven thirty. By the time you get dressed, they’ll be late for school. Why don’t I take them, and you can stop at the school on your way to work, okay?”

  Katharine sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Okay, thanks. I’ll clear the table.” As she began plaiting Bethany’s hair, Carson helped CJ gather his belongings and headed to the car to wait.

  As Bethany got in a few minutes later and he helped her to buckle up, Carson smiled to himself. He’d avoided a conversation with Katharine.

  Chapter 10

  Katharine showered and dressed quickly, deciding to forgo breakfast.

  After stopping by the main office at the school to sign in and receive her
visitor’s pass, she darted down the hallway to her son’s classroom and peeked through the narrow window in the door. She couldn’t spot CJ. He must be sitting somewhere in the back, she thought.

  She turned the knob slowly, and the teacher, Ms. Cavacas, motioned her inside. The class was in the middle of a lesson.

  Ms. Cavacas asked the class to silently read specific pages from the textbook while she spoke with Katharine. Her description of CJ’s behavior in class corroborated his after-school teacher’s comments.

  Ms. Cavacas called CJ up to her desk while she continued her conversation with Katharine.

  For a few seconds, CJ moped in his chair before getting up and dragging his feet along toward the front of the class. A freckled-faced kid, two rows in front of him, stuck out his foot, causing CJ to trip. Blood oozed from his mouth as he stood again. Apparently, his teeth had jammed into his lip when he hit the floor.

  Without considering the presence of adults, CJ angrily charged into the boy, grabbed him by his shoulders, and wrestled him to the floor. Katharine grabbed CJ and pulled him off, saving the troublemaker from a black eye or a broken nose.

  The freckled-faced kid reached his full height and brushed himself off. “Instead of calling you CJ, we should call you Pee J, ’cause you stink!” he taunted, attaching in a singsong, babylike voice, “CJ wets the bed.” As some of the students snickered, he added, “Hey, pee-boy, go home with your mommy.”

  The students laughed harder.

  CJ tried to jerk loose from his mother’s grip.

  “That will be enough, Jeffrey!” Ms. Cavacas shouted.

  Many of the students lowered their heads in embarrassment or cast apologetic looks at CJ. Katharine could tell from their faces that only a few of the kids really liked Jeffrey, but most of them seemed to be afraid of him.

  Katharine was glad of the chance to see firsthand what was causing her son’s problems. As Ms. Cavacas apologized profusely to Katharine and CJ, Katharine wished for a moment that she’d let CJ go after the little bully. With all the anger built up in her son, that other boy wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  Though Katharine accepted the apologies politely, she resented the time, energy, and emotion she’d put into listening to Ms. Cavacas when she should have been defending her son.

  “I need to take him home,” she sneered. “He’s hurt, and I don’t think he’ll be paying much attention in school today.”

  Ms. Cavacas looked at CJ’s bleeding lip and nodded. She instructed him to retrieve his jacket and bookbag. Before bidding a farewell, she reminded Katharine to stop at the office to sign him out.

  Putting her arm around CJ’s shoulders, they slid quietly down the hallway to the water fountain so he could rinse his mouth out.

  She’d given him permission to sit up front. As they got into the car, Katharine immediately smelled urine. My poor baby, she thought. He must be humiliated being insulted in front of his teacher, his classmates, and his own mother. They were silent the entire way home. At a stoplight, she smiled and reached over to caress his knee.

  She pulled the car into the driveway and gathered her thoughts. “CJ, I want you to take out a pair of jeans from your bottom drawer and a tee-shirt from your closet,” she instructed.

  He looked at his mother with queried eyes. “Why?”

  “Because I want you to take a shower first so we can go to your favorite place for lunch.” She made it sound cheerful.

  His brows shot up. “KidzWorld?” he grinned with a sudden burst of excitement.

  A soft smile formed on her lips. “KidzWorld,” she repeated, suspecting that would perk him up a little.

  While CJ was bathing, Katharine removed the soiled linen from his bed. She was angry with herself for not checking it that morning. She’d assumed Carson had everything under control. Just thinking about it made her even angrier with Carson. Then she realized Carson probably hadn’t noticed the odor underneath CJ’s clean clothes. Apparently, this wasn’t the first time CJ had gone to school smelling like urine. Those other times must also have happened when Carson was in charge while she was busy or away. She’d never allow CJ to leave for school unbathed if he’d wet the bed.

  She stuffed the soiled sheets in the laundry basket and scrubbed the wet spot on the mattress with a cleansing solution. Ordinarily, she’d use a blow dryer to speed up the process, but this time she allowed it to air dry.

  After phoning her assistant to tell her that she would be working from home today, Katharine turned on the computer to do some research on the causes and effects of bedwetting. After reading several authoritative websites, she decided her son needed not only medical attention but also professional counseling to deal with the embarrassment that caused his disorder, not to mention the tension between his parents and the annoying behavior of his little sister.

  “Ready, Mom!” CJ breezed into the room, grinning. Katharine returned the smile. With a click of the mouse, she added the website she was reviewing into her Favorites folder.

  “Me, too,” she said, exiting the program and turning off the computer.

  * * *

  After playing the video games and pinball machines, CJ sat at the table with Katharine to eat lunch. He admitted to being angry with the kids for making fun of his bedwetting.

  “That takes a lot of courage,” Katharine said.

  CJ shrugged.

  “Remember the videos we watched on how the people taunted and treated Jesus badly, even though he caused no harm to anyone?”

  CJ nodded.

  “Well, what did Jesus do?”

  “He, he didn’t fight back. He just prayed for the people.”

  “Exactly, because nonviolence is the way of our Lord and Savior and we are to follow His example, right?”

  “It’s hard, Mom,” CJ said, fighting to stay calm. “It’s hard to be peaceful when everybody’s teasing you . . . but I guess I’m okay.”

  “We’ll get through your bedwetting problem together, sweetheart.”

  His troubled expression told Katharine he was embarrassed to have this conversation with her.

  “Okay?”

  “I’m okay, Mom.” CJ turned away from her as if he wanted to say something more but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  Katharine suspected there was something else worrying him. “Are you, CJ? Are you really okay? With all the good things you have going for yourself—the theater club, Boy Scouts, the Little League’s most valuable player award—you still don’t seem happy,” Katharine said. “You mope around like you’ve got something on your mind all the time. And each time I’ve asked you, you said, ‘I’m fine, Mom.’”

  “But I am fine.” He turned back toward her with what he obviously hoped she saw was a happy expression.

  Katharine dropped the conversation to finish lunch, but she wasn’t convinced.

  “Sweetheart,” she said as they drifted to the car, “I want you to feel like you can ask me anything. I don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me about whatever’s on your mind. Okay?”

  CJ nodded in his usual fashion.

  “You’re not alone,” she added. “Everybody needs somebody. I need you and you need me and we both need God.” She smiled and gave him a tight hug for extra assurance.

  “I’ll try to stop wetting the bed by not drinking anything after seven-thirty.” His bedtime was nine-o’clock.

  Katharine noticed he didn’t promise to stop teasing his sister, probably because that was the fun part of his misbehavior.

  As a special treat, she took him to Toys “R” Us and allowed him to buy a PlayStation Portable and a couple of games. She’d treated it as an advance birthday gift. CJ was so ecstatic, he asked if she could drop him off early at the after-school program to show off his new games.

  Katharine was more than happy to fulfill his request. She needed the quiet time to regroup. She reminded him to safeguard his new items.

  After dropping CJ off, she found herself slipping into unhappy thoughts again. She trie
d to shake her gloomy mood on the ride home, but the thought of that little bully, Jeffrey, insulting her son publicly made her wince. It was just too much for an eight-year-old boy to be going through. He desperately needed the guidance and comfort of his dad, and Carson wasn’t providing it.

  When she reached home, she still hadn’t found a solution. Perhaps their pastor could counsel CJ, but with a huge congregation, he couldn’t possibly do it on such short notice. On second thought, many of the church members, especially the ministry leaders, were busybodies. Every now and then, even the pastor would indulge in gossip about his congregation and staff. If you can’t trust the church, especially your pastor, who can you trust? Before she even finished her thoughts, she knew the answer. Psalms 118:8: “It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man.”

  The verse reminded her that it had been weeks since she’d really read her Bible. Finding it buried under a stack of inspirational books and novels on her nightstand, she held it in her hands and prayed for help. Then she flipped the Bible open at random and started reading aloud, St. John 14:26: “But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.”

  Convinced the Lord was speaking to her, Katharine thought, Don’t put confidence in the words of others. Put your trust, faith and belief in the word of God. He had always helped her before and He would help her again.

  After marking the St. John passage with a slip of paper, she closed the Bible, deciding to take a short nap with the knowledge that things were out of her hands. God was in control, and He would fix all her family problems. With that in mind, she told herself that after her nap, she would do some Berkley work.

  Two hours later, Katharine awoke all of a sudden, disoriented. She blinked her eyes, and Carson’s face swam into view. For a moment, her heart pumped with a new excitement that erased her exhaustion. But when she realized he was frowning, her happy smile faltered.