Although she tried to ease her hand away, Mrs. Jameson strengthened the grip, her eyes focused on the ring finger of her left hand.
“Are you missing something here?” His mother sent Angie a grin before her gaze shifted to Rick’s. “I thought—”
“Mom.” Rick’s tone had heightened. “Sometimes people like to enjoy their companionship without fanfare and invasion of privacy.”
His mother’s head flew back. “Invasion of what?” She shook her head. “I’m just asking if you two have any plans.”
Angie opened her mouth to speak, but Rick’s voice stomped across her effort. “Nothing specific at the moment. I’m sure you’ll be the first...” He adjusted his gaze toward Angie’s while she had to camouflage her reaction.
Rick smiled and turned back to his mother. “I’m sure, Mom, you’ll be the second to know.”
Mrs. Jameson took a moment to weigh his words and then grinned back. “Second will be fine, but don’t dally. You’re no longer a spring chicken, Ricky.”
His head swung back with a laugh. “You’d never know.” He faced Angie. “Whenever I hear ‘Ricky,’ I’m back in third grade.”
“Can you remember that far back?” Angie jumped in, adding some levity to the conversation. Anything to move it around to something else.
“Daddy can’t remember far back, because he forgot to bring my new storybook to Grandma’s, and I wanted to bring it.” Carly had left her stack of puzzles and had gravitated into the conversation without anyone’s awareness.
Angie was taken by surprise when Carly slipped to her side and settled next to her in the easy chair. Angie stroked Carly’s hair. “Maybe that means he’ll have to buy you another storybook.”
“Does it, Daddy? I know the one I want.”
Rick shook his head. “Two women against one man is unfair.”
Everyone laughed, even Carly, who seemed to get the joke. But before the laughter had subsided, the child bent closer to Angie’s ear. “Want to know what book I want?”
“I do. I always like to know your favorites.”
Carly giggled. “Chocolate or strawberry when it’s ice cream.”
Angie tousled her hair. “But what about the book?”
“Nancy Drew and the Clue Crew. My friend at school told me about the story with clues and everything. Her mom helps her read it.”
Angie’s mind sailed to the past. “Want to know something?” Everyone was listening, but it was too late to stop now.
Carly’s head bobbed.
“Nancy Drew was my favorite girl detective, and I read lots of stories about her when I was growing up.”
“You did?” Carly’s eyes widened. “Daddy, Angie—”
“I heard, sweetheart. I think Grandma even read them.”
Rick’s mom nodded. “I think I read the whole series.”
Relief spread through Angie, seeing the conversation had finally shifted from her empty ring finger.
Mrs. Jameson rose. “Come with me, Carly, and I’ll show you a bunch of my old reading books. I saved them for a day just like this.”
Carly slipped off Angie’s lap and skipped toward her grandmother.
“Mom.” Rick stood a moment as he gave Angie the eye. “Angie and I are going out for a few minutes. I’ll show her your garden.”
“Great idea, Ricky. While you’re gone, Carly and I will look at the books and then dish up dessert.”
Relief swept across Rick’s face. He reached for her hand and drew her toward the back of the kitchen and out the door.
When they stepped outside Angie stood a moment, appreciating the lovely yard but most of all the escape from the questions. She empathized with what she’d put Rick through at her parents’ home.
“We escaped.” He slipped his arm behind her back and drew her closer. “I’d hoped this wouldn’t happen. I’m sorry I—”
Angie pressed her finger over his lips, a half grin on her face as she recalled his visit with her parents. “Don’t apologize. Mothers want to know everything. To them we’re still their child.” She struggled to keep from smiling. “Isn’t that right, Ricky?” She failed. Her laughter bubbled into the air. Her shoulders relaxed and Rick’s tension faded, shown by the smile sneaking onto his lips.
“Thanks.” He brushed her cheek with his free hand, a pink tinge on his face. “I forgot to warn you about—”
“And take away the fun. Nonsense.” Reality marred the moment, and she shook her head. “I hope you came out here to tell me about the attorney. I’ve been longing to know what happened.”
“I’ve wanted to tell you, but...” His shoulders drooped. “Carly is too smart for her knickers.”
“Knickers?”
He shrugged. “You know what I mean. Nothing passes that child.” He beckoned her forward away from the house. “Follow me to the flower beds. We’re safer there.”
They made their way through the mowed lawn to the lovely display of flowers across the back of the property. Sunlight spread across the earth and kissed the colorful blossoms. Kissed... Her mind flew back to the day that had made her life different. “What did he say?”
“From what he said, when both parents have legal joint custody and one parent wants to take the child out of the country, both parents must agree for the child to get a passport. It would take dire circumstances for the court to allow her to take Carly without my signature.”
“Dire circumstances? Can you be sure she won’t come up with something?”
“Glenda would need proof that the travel is for Carly’s health needs or that something serious has happened in that country that Carly needs to be there. I don’t think she can come up with that.”
Her concern ebbed as she listened. “It sounds safe to me, Rick.”
“She might use the ‘mother’s rights’ tactic. She could say I’m depriving Carly from the amazing experience of visiting a foreign country.”
“Would that make a difference?” Her concern veered back, causing another knot in her throat.
“I don’t know. If I dally long enough she might not have time to fight me in court.” His head lowered, his spirits deflated. “I don’t put anything past Glenda.”
“Then you’ll have to fight for her. Press the point that it’s not a vacation but her mother must work. That might change the court’s mind.”
“But I work, too, Ang.” He shook his head. “I started out being confident, and when I say it aloud, reality kicks me in the gut.”
“Rick, what would Carly want? Does she have any rights? Do they listen to a child’s preference?”
“Glenda could make the trip sound inviting. Carly’s filled with curiosity. She might love the idea of traveling to a place that’s different.” His eyes moistened. “I’ve hoped she would want to stay here, but the more I think of it—”
“You doubt.” She released a lengthy breath. “I understand, Rick. How about prayer? Maybe that’s the answer.”
His head popped up as if pulled by a rope. “Angie, thank you. Sometimes I forget to pray. Hard to believe, but my mind tangles in legalities and my need for keeping her with me, and...” He drew Angie to face him and wrapped his arms around her waist. “And you, Ang. You’re the one who reminded me to pray. Thank you.”
Her reminder surprised her, too. Somehow when she’d felt cornered, she’d recalled that humans had no power over their own destiny except through God’s willingness to let them. She’d remembered that from years earlier. She’d heard God had a plan, but she also knew that God could revise His plan or His plan might be to let trouble appear to win and then make it go away.
Tension faded from Rick’s face. “You. You amaze me, Angie, and I long to kiss—”
“Daddy!” Carly’s voice split them apart. “What are you doing?”
Laughter bubbled from Angie’s throat. “He was showing me the flowers, and—”
“Uh-uh.” She slipped between them. “Daddy was looking at you, not the flowers.”
Rick scooped her into his arms. “I was trying to decide which was prettier—flowers or Angie’s eyes.”
“Angie’s prettier all over her.” Carly giggled. “Grandma said it’s time for dessert.”
“I’m ready.” Angie tweaked her nose. “And later you can tell me about Grandma’s books, and maybe tomorrow or the next day, we can go to the bookstore and find that book you want.”
“And we can bake cookies, too.” She beamed.
Angie’s heart melted.
Chapter Eight
Rick sat at Angie’s kitchen table watching Carly learning to bake cookies. His chest constricted seeing the joy in his little girl’s face and the same reflected in Angie’s. She looked at life with a spirit he’d missed for so many years, and she possessed a deep love for children. Although she rarely talked about her sister’s children, he understood now, learning the two tended to be rude and undisciplined. Spoiled children were difficult to admire. He thanked the Lord for the gift of Carly’s sweet nature.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off Angie’s patient teaching. She lit up the room, and she lit up Carly’s world, too. As soon as Carly knew Angie would be spending time with them, her expression had changed to delight. A little smile permeated her face and wouldn’t fade unless a serious situation broke the spell. In truth, he would never find another woman who gave him and his daughter that kind of joy. But nothing was certain. His longing could end up only a dream and nothing else.
His happiness faded, and he allowed his mind to drag him down. Since he’d talked with Glenda, he’d worried that she would get what she wanted. The thought of her taking Carly to Europe sapped his energy and his joy. Though his attorney assured him he had to sign for the passport, he pictured Glenda manipulating some way to get what she wanted. And if she did, had she been honest with him? Was the trip for only a week or two? Since he’d talked it over with Angie when they’d escaped into his mom’s backyard, his what-ifs hadn’t given him peace.
But peace was what he needed. Pulling his mind to the present, he refocused on the baking lesson and burst into laughter. “Are you two having a flour fight?” He shook his head. Angie had encouraged Carly to measure the flour into a two-cup container. Instead, with her unsteady hands, she’d sprinkled a couple more cups across the counter and onto the floor. “Carly, my girl, you’ve made a mess.”
“Daddy!” Although she’d tried to grin, he realized he’d hurt her feelings.
Angie noticed Carly’s expression too and, as always, tried to save the day. “Look what we did, Carly.” She gave her a hug. “I’ve done this, too. Flour has a mind of its own.”
“Flour doesn’t have a mind, does it?” Carly tilted her head, a thoughtful look on her face.
“No.” She tweaked his daughter’s cheek. “I was teasing.” She eyed the semi-disaster and gave him a head toss. “The broom is in the hall closet. Will you get it for us?”
He rose but couldn’t contain himself. “Where are you going?”
“Going?” She squinted at him. “I...” Her confusion turned to understanding. “Rick, I’m not going anywhere on a broom.”
Carly slammed her floured fists onto her apron-covered sides. “Daddy. Angie is not a witch. She’s a beautiful princess.” She gave Angie’s waist a hug, the flour tracing her handprint.
He winked at her. “I know. Guess what I was doing?”
After studying him a second, she lowered her fists. “You were teasing, but Daddy, you always tell me not to be mean, and that was mean.”
His face drooped from a grin to one of guilty admission. “It was. Should I sit in the corner or wash my mouth out with soap?”
She shook her finger at him. “Just don’t do it again.” She tittered. “But you can get the broom.”
He nodded, proud that she remembered what he’d taught her even though Angie’s half grin let him know she was enjoying Carly’s reprimand. He strode to the hallway, located the broom and swept the flour into a dustpan. “I did my penance.”
“What’s pennas?”
Angie grinned. “Penance means he finished his punishment. What do you think? Should we forgive him?”
Carly smiled at him. “I forgive you, Daddy.”
He thanked her and sank back into the chair, watching her refocus on the cookies. Angie had the dough mixed, and they began forming the cookies. Carly rolled the dough into balls and put them on a cookie sheet while Angie flattened the tops with a fork, making a crisscross pattern. Before long the scent of peanut butter cookies filled the air.
After the last batch had been baked and cooled, Angie gave them each a cookie and then took a large plastic container and one smaller and stacked the treats inside. “It’s too early for dinner, so let’s walk down the street. I’ll introduce you to El, and Carly can give him the cookies. He loves them.”
“So do I.”
Angie rolled her eyes at him.
“Who’s El?” Carly gave Angie a curious look.
“His real name is Elwood Barnes and he’s my very nice neighbor. You’ll like him.”
“Okay.” She slipped from the stool and waited for Angie to let her carry the small container.
Rick enjoyed watching them interact. Angie treated Carly like a grown-up, with more patience than he had. She gave Carly the box, and she skipped toward the front door while they followed.
Outside the sun gilded the landscape, and warmth aroused the aroma of the lilacs. As he neared Angie, he sensed she too emitted the same scent from somewhere on her person. Carly bounded ahead of them, her head shifting from side to side as if taking in all she could see. When she came to a stop and spun around, he shifted his gaze to what must have interested her.
Ahead he spotted a little girl playing in a front yard across the street a few houses down. He motioned to Angie, but she only shrugged. “Have you seen the child before?”
“No. They moved in a week or so ago, and I really didn’t notice much of anything, but if you want details we can check with Birdie.”
He chuckled. “She’s the bearer of news.”
“That’s a nice way to say she’s the local gossip.”
Carly had turned back to the girl, and when he reached her, she looked at him, her eyes bright with interest. “Who are they?”
Angie put her arm around Carly’s shoulders. “I don’t know, but we’ll find out soon enough.” She motioned to the next house. “This is where El lives, and they’re right across the street. He’ll know.”
Angie led the way up the walk, and before she climbed the porch steps, an elderly gentleman pushed open the door with a smile, his eyes twinkling. “Angie, what a nice surprise, and you brought company.”
He stepped onto the porch and down the steps, his hand extended. “I’m Elwood Barnes, and you must be Rick.”
“Guilty as charged.” He clasped the man’s palm, surprised at his strong grip. “Angie’s spoken well of you, Mr. Barnes.”
He waved the words away. “El. Call me El.” He shifted his gaze downward. “And this must be Carly. I’ve heard only good things about you, missy.”
She smiled, her eyes beaming. “You’re a nice man, too. Angie said so.”
“Well, my word, Angie’s my best neighbor.”
Angie made a subtle motion toward the cookies.
Carly caught on and extended the container. “We made you peanut butter cookies today.”
“For me?” His merry chuckle brightened the air. “You know how to make an old man happy.”
She nodded and inched closer. “Do you know that girl?” She pointed across the street.
“Not very well, but she seem
s like a good girl. She moved in last week with her uncle.”
“Where’s her mommy?” Carly gazed across the street, watching her every move.
“Her mommy is ill, I think. Very sad.”
“She’s sick?” She studied El for a moment. “And so the girl can’t be with her mom?”
“Her mom’s out of town.” El shot Rick a look of regret as if he realized he’d stepped into a hornet’s nest. “I didn’t think—”
Rick shook his head. “I’m sure the little girl is in really good hands with her uncle.”
El jumped in. “Yes, he spends a lot of time with her.”
“I spend time with my daddy, and we have lots of fun with Angie. She’s my favorite friend.” She smiled, followed by a titter. “I mean a grown-up friend.”
Angie chuckled and wrapped her arm around Carly. “And you’re my favorite almost six-year-old friend in the whole world.”
“I am?” Carly hugged her back.
Rick’s heart lurched watching Carly’s unrestrained affection for Angie. Glenda’s ability to show affection had been thwarted by something. She’d always been that way, but Glenda was pleasant and hardworking. Yet he’d fallen for her, and as their marriage had deteriorated, he’d tried to fix it but couldn’t. Now he understood. Glenda needed validation. Despite her appearance of confidence, somewhere inside she doubted herself. Her vulnerability had captured his “Rick to the rescue” gene, and his feelings for her covered the flaws he’d hoped would change with time.
The experience taught him a life lesson. A person’s flaws rarely changed unless the person made the effort to change them. His efforts didn’t make one iota of difference. He’d taught Carly to express joy and love, and she did. It seemed to be natural. Glenda didn’t have the impetus. Nothing he did made an impact. He’d learned that change could happen only as a gift from Glenda and only if she wanted it that way. The struggle saddened him.
But Angie, she was a natural just as Carly was. Her affection showed in everything she did, and for that reason his affection had grown, maybe too much. Though he and Angie had opened up a little with her feelings, sometimes her restraint reminded him that nothing between them was a sure thing.
A Mother to Love Page 12