by Davis, Mary
“What is so wrong with our falling in love with each other?”
“This isn’t real. You’re in love with an image you created from a fifteen-year-old girl you saw from afar. You fell in love with an ideal based on a ten-year-old memory.”
“I’ll agree that’s partially true. But when we met, one of two things could have happened. One, I meet you, you are not all I imagined you to be, and the feelings fade away. Or, two, you are all I dreamed and more. You have a heart for the Lord. You are fun to be with, sensitive, kind, and gentle, and your beauty is more than skin deep; it goes clear through your soul. My feelings for you couldn’t help but soar.”
She looked away from him. He turned her face back to him with his finger under her chin. “Tell me you don’t love me, too. Tell me you don’t care in the least for me. Tell me you want me to leave and never come back, and I will.”
She knew with one word from her he would go. She didn’t want him to leave, ever. That was the problem.
“You can’t, can you?” he said.
“No.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Why do you do this? When we move forward to the next step in our relationship, you pull back.”
“I’m afraid,” she said softly.
“I’m afraid, too. Afraid of loving you so much you’ll disappear like a dream upon waking. Afraid of not loving you at all and never knowing this feeling again. But my love for you keeps me pressing forward.”
After a moment he lowered his lips to hers. He didn’t pull her close, giving her the option of pulling away again. She leaned into him and extended her arms around his waist. Still he did not hold her but gently put his hands on her shoulders.
The surge of love she felt for him threatened to bubble over. She pulled back but left her arms around his waist. “I do love you.”
He kissed her again. This time his arms held her securely in his love.
Why do I keep doing this? Dragging it out between us when I know it has to end. Each day only makes it worse, harder. I should have left weeks ago, months. I never should have come at all. The hurt she would inevitably cause him loomed closer each day. Drawn to him by some unseen force, she felt helpless to stop it. Her head said to leave before he did, but her heart held tightly to his. This was too good to last.
❧
The next week and a half flew by, and then Thanksgiving arrived. Lori wished she’d never agreed to spend the day at Garth’s place. Had she known his parents were going to be there, she never would have consented. Never. “I’m nervous.”
“Don’t worry. My folks are great. They’re going to love you almost as much as I do.” He took her out to his SUV.
Hope and fear swirled recklessly inside her.
“My mom will love you instantly. In fact, she already does.”
“How? She’s never met me.”
“She’s heard about you.” His crooked smile sent her heart fluttering with the butterflies in her stomach.
“And just where did she hear all about me?”
He shrugged. “My dad, on the other hand,” he said thoughtfully, “will be the tough nut to crack. It’ll take a good twenty seconds to win him over. Thirty tops.”
“I see Gretchen’s car and one for your parents, but who does the van belong to?”
“My oldest sister, Robin, and her family.”
“What? You didn’t tell me half your family was going to be here!”
“This isn’t half my family, believe me. You knew my folks would be here.”
“Not until last weekend.”
“And you already know Gretchen. Robin’s a bit more low- keyed than Gretchen. If you’ve met one sister, you’ve met them all.”
She doubted his sisters thought they were all varying degrees of Gretchen. The deep breath she took did little to steady her erratic pulse.
Garth stepped out of his vehicle and walked around it. He scooped her up in his arms to carry her across the snow.
“Garth. Put me down.”
He ignored her request and carted her up the porch, depositing her at the front door. The butterflies were out in full force in her stomach. At least Gretchen was there and obviously liked her. She would have one ally.
Garth’s mother met them at the door with his father right behind her.
“This is my mom, Jolene, and my dad, George. Mom, Dad, this is Lorelei.” Garth’s general features were much like his dad’s, but he had his mom’s smile. Garth was a nice blend of both his parents.
After they had shaken hands and exchanged hellos, his father asked, “What’s a cute little thing like you doing with this guy?” He pointed to Garth.
“George, behave yourself,” his wife said.
“From all you have told us, Garth, I think she might be too good for you.”
Great. What exactly has Garth told them?
“Unless—there’s something wrong with her,” he said in a hushed voice.
You want a list?
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect.” Garth hugged her from behind.
“Of course she is. George, and all of you, behave or you’re going to scare her away before she even gets her coat off.” His mom was stern but kind.
“We’re only teasing,” his dad said.
“See—I told you,” Garth said softly over Lori’s shoulder as he helped her with her coat. “Dad only teases people he likes.”
His father turned back to Lori. “Don’t mind my wife; she’s not always so grumpy.”
“Grumpy? If you don’t shape up, I’ll show you grumpy,” his mom retorted.
“No, Jeannie was Grumpy,” Gretchen said seriously, jumping into the conversation.
Everyone turned to her and burst out laughing except Lori. She didn’t get the joke, and the knot in her stomach cinched a little tighter.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to them. They’re harmless,” said a brown-haired man several inches shorter than Garth. “Gretchen and Audrey dubbed each of the kids one of the seven dwarfs. Robin was Sleepy.” He pointed to a female version of Garth’s dad. “She was pregnant with Eamon at the time.” He pointed to a teenage boy who was almost a duplicate of the man talking to her. “I think Garth, Ryan, and Gretchen were the only ones to retain their nicknames.”
It made sense now. Garth often called Gretchen Happy, and she called him Bash, short for Bashful. She didn’t see Garth as bashful, though maybe a bit reserved.
“I’m Mike, Robin’s other half,” said the man who had been explaining this family. “And this beauty is our daughter Carie, short for Caroline.” He put his arm around an eleven-year-old girl who was a near image of her grandmother with long blond hair. “She’s growing up too fast.”
“Dad.” She rolled her eyes.
Within no time she felt at home with Garth’s family. Though they joked a lot, they shared a strong bond of love and loyalty. They had refused to let Lori bring any food and now shooed her out of the kitchen. She was company. She felt useless, though. But she liked this family. She liked it a lot. The family she didn’t have.
After everything was cleaned up, Robin cornered Garth in the kitchen while he was sneaking another piece of pumpkin pie. Lori watched their serious conversation. Garth looked her way and smiled. Were they talking about her? She hoped not. Was his big sister telling him what she thought about his new girlfriend? Her throat tightened.
“Don’t worry. My mom really likes you.” Lori turned to Carie, whom she had been ignoring while her thoughts were caught up with the duo in the kitchen. “And I like you, too.”
Lori smiled at this young jewel who so gently put her fears at ease. “Thank you.”
“Grandpa likes you a lot, too. Grandma thinks he’s going to scare you away.” Her expression turned serious. “You won’t be scared away, will you? You aren’t really afraid of Grandpa?”
“No, I’m not afraid of your grandpa. And I won’t be scared away.” At least not by him.
“Good.” The worry mel
ted from her young face as she sighed. “Are you going skiing with us tomorrow?”
“No, I don’t ski.”
“I’ll teach you.” This girl had certainly taken a shine to her.
“I can’t ski,” Lori said.
“I’ll stay on the bunny slope with you all day—I promise.”
“I’m sure that wouldn’t be any fun for you.”
“I’ll have fun. I promise. Please.”
“Carie, if she doesn’t want to go, don’t pester her,” Robin said. She and Garth had come over to where Lori and Carie were sitting on one of the couches.
“Yes, Mom. I’m sorry, Miss Hayes.” The girl looked disappointed.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go; I really can’t,” Lori said. Yet another thing taken in the accident.
“Lorelei has a bad hip,” Garth said. “It hurts her in the cold.”
She glanced around at each member of Garth’s family. The realization of the situation dawned on her. Garth loved her, and now she was spending a holiday with his family. She was here on approval! But he had invited her weeks ago, before he told her he loved her. He must have loved her long before he said so. She had loved him before that.
This wasn’t good. She had to quit fooling herself that they were just friends. Just friends didn’t spend every moment they could with each other. Just friends didn’t kiss the way they did. And just friends didn’t profess their love while gazing into each other’s eyes.
She had let this go way too far. But how did she stop this train she had put into motion?
Thirteen
On Tuesday the weather had turned decidedly wet. Garth stopped by Lorelei’s directly from school as was his usual pattern. There was no point in going home for one second only to leave again. He stood at the kitchen sink filling the teakettle to make them both some cocoa on this cold, dreary day. Through the window he saw a man in a blue baseball cap walking down the driveway. He held his coat collar up around his neck, but it did little good against the torrential rain.
“Are you expecting company?” he asked Lorelei.
“No. You’re the only one who knows where I live, and you’re already here.”
“Well, company’s coming, dripping wet, down your driveway. Do you know him?”
Lorelei came up beside him as the man approached the cottage. “No. Must be someone for the Davenports.”
Garth was glad he was there so Lorelei wouldn’t have to greet a strange man alone. He set the kettle on the stove then pulled open the door before the man had a chance to knock. “Come in out of that awful weather.” He knew the man had to be cold. If the temperature dropped a degree or two, this would be snow.
The man hesitated then entered only far enough to close the door behind him.
“May I take your coat?” Garth offered.
“No, thank you.” The man removed his hat. “I won’t be staying long.”
Garth wasn’t sure what to make of him. He seemed nervous, the way he toyed with his hat and darted glances at Lorelei but wouldn’t look directly at her. The hair on the back of Garth’s neck stiffened.
“Would you like to sit down?” Lorelei offered him a chair.
“No, thanks.”
“The Davenports aren’t here, but I would be glad to let them know you stopped by.”
“I didn’t come to see them.”
Garth’s uneasiness increased each moment this man remained. He avoided eye contact with Lorelei when he spoke to her.
The man swallowed hard. “I’m looking for Lorelei Hayes.”
Garth’s insides tightened.
“I’m Lori Hayes.”
For the first time the man looked at her.
What did he want? “I’m Garth Kessel.” Garth stuck his hand out for the man to shake. “And you are—?”
Though he shook Garth’s hand, he didn’t offer his name. If he had come to cause trouble for Lorelei, he would have to go through Garth first.
“Ray,” the man finally said to Garth then turned to Lorelei. “Raymond Kent.”
He kept his gaze glued on Lorelei as if waiting for a reaction. Garth looked at her, as well. Her sweet, welcoming smile faded to something akin to terror. All color drained from her normally rosy face.
“I came to apologize,” Ray said.
“No,” Lorelei said in a barely audible tone and took a step backward.
“I never meant to hurt anybody.”
“Go away.” She stepped back again.
The man took a step forward, his arms out, pleading. “If I could go back and change things, I would.”
“I don’t want to hear this! Haven’t you caused enough damage?” She turned, nearly tripping over the coffee table in her flight to the bedroom, and slammed the door.
She may not have known this man by sight, but she obviously knew him by name. What had he done to cause such a reaction? If looks could kill, Ray Kent would be charred.
Ray dropped his hands to his sides and hung his head.
What should he do now? Say something? Throw the guy out? Demand an explanation?
Ray turned slowly and dug in his pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a business card and handed it to Garth. “In case she changes her mind.” He refused to make eye contact.
Garth stared at the card as Ray moved to the door. Before he had a chance to step outside, Garth grabbed him by the arm. “What did you do to her?”
Slowly he raised his eyes to meet Garth’s. “I’m the drunk driver who killed her parents.”
Garth’s hand slipped from Ray’s arm. The man trudged up the hill, not bothering to put on his hat or ward off the rain in any way.
So he was the man who had caused Lorelei so much pain and anguish. Shouldn’t Garth be angry, enraged? Instead he pitied the now-broken man who needed forgiveness from one who wasn’t ready to give it.
The teakettle screeched, and Garth jumped. He removed it from the burner and took a deep breath. Lorelei! He rushed to the bedroom and knocked on the door. “Lorelei? Are you okay? May I come in?”
He heard a muffled yes.
Was that, yes, she was okay? Or, yes, he could come in?
He opened the door slowly, and his heart wrenched. In the middle of the double bed, she sat with her knees held tightly to her chest like a wounded animal. He knew enough to approach with extreme caution. “He’s gone.”
She burst into tears and sprang toward him. The grip she had on his neck made it easier for him to carry her to the couch in the living room. He held her and rocked her for a long time before she relaxed in his arms. The woman he loved continued to draw in shuddered breaths, while something boiled just under the surface within him.
“He walked away,” she finally managed to say.
Like a whooped dog with his tail between his legs. “Yes, he’s gone.”
“No. From the accident. He walked away with barely a scratch.”
Of course! Isn’t that the way it always goes? The drunk whose fault it is rarely gets hurt or killed.
“He only did eighteen months in prison and five years’ probation, and his license was permanently revoked. It isn’t fair.”
She took a jagged breath. “His headlights came straight at us. My dad tried to swerve and get out of his way, but it was too late. He just kept coming at us. Then we rolled over and over down the gully. My mom and I screamed and screamed; then suddenly she just stopped. I was the only one left to scream, and I couldn’t anymore. All I could think was my new white Christmas sweater was ruined and I was going to die—and he walked away.”
Garth clenched and unclenched his fist. He wanted to hit something, preferably Ray Kent. He knew it was wrong, but it was how he felt. He should pity the poor man, but that man had hurt the woman he loved.
Father, help me. I am so angry, and this feeling is strong; help me not to sin. I feel as if I have no control over it. I don’t want to give in to this. I wouldn’t be of any good to Lorelei then. She needs me right now. Help her, Lord; comfort her. Let her k
now that You and I are here for her.
As he prayed, he went from tense and uptight to more relaxed and calm. He would leave Ray in God’s hands; he had to take care of Lorelei.
He caressed her hair. “Do you still want some cocoa? I can reheat the water.”
“Cocoa sounds great. I’ll make it. I need something to do.”
As Garth watched her limp across the room, his anger welled up again. Lord, I need Your peace. Please help me deal with this.
He knew he would have to face these feelings again, but he knew the Lord would help him.
Lorelei picked up Ray’s card from the counter where Garth had flipped it. “What’s this?”
“Nothing.” He took the card from her.
“Burn it.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He shoved it into his pocket. “I’m sorry he came and upset you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk.”
“Not this, not anymore. I’ve talked to so many counselors about the accident and my feelings over the last ten years. It never does any good. It never changes anything. Everything remains the same, and life goes on.” She took a deep breath. “I want to forget he ever came.”
Pretending it never happened won’t make it go away. “How about an ice cream cone in Mancelona?”
She shook her head with a shrug and took out two mugs from the cupboard. “I don’t want to go out in the rain.”
He realized it would only make her hip hurt more, reminding her of a man they would both like to forget. “What do you say if I run over to my place and grab a couple of squirt guns and we can have a water fight—indoors?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
“I’ll pass.” But she did smile.
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “How about if I hold you and kiss you until you haven’t a thought left in your pretty little head except of me?”
The kettle whistled, and he let her go. “Or maybe we could just have our cocoa?”
“That doesn’t sound like a very good trade.” She held the kettle over the mugs.
“So you liked my kissing idea?”
She batted her lashes at him and said demurely, “Well, Mr. Kessel, I don’t know. I may need a little tutoring.”