by Irene Hannon
As Eric sat down, one look at Kate’s face made him realize that there was no way he could salvage her lighthearted mood. And maybe he shouldn’t even try. Maybe she needed to talk about the things that had made the light in her eyes flicker and die.
“I have a feeling that watching Frank and Mary reminds you of your own marriage,” he remarked quietly.
She looked at him in surprise, then gazed unseeingly at her plate as she toyed with her food. At first he wasn’t sure she was going to respond. But a moment later she spoke.
“In some ways,” she acknowledged softly, “Jack and I weren’t as outgoing, but we had that same kind of special bond. I guess once you’ve experienced it, you just recognize it in others. Seeing Frank and Mary together makes me remember what I once had.”
“I’m sorry about how things turned out, Kate. I guess the only consolation is that at least you had that special bond once.”
She glanced at him. He was staring at his own plate now, apparently lost for a moment in his own memories. He seemed sad, and there was disillusion—and regret—in his eyes. Obviously she wasn’t the only one with grief in her past, Kate realized with a sharp pang. Apparently Eric had not only gone through a painful divorce, but a painful marriage as well, devoid of the kind of love all young couples dream of. In some ways, perhaps the death of that dream was worse than living the dream and then losing it, she reflected. At least she had happy memories. His seemed depressing at best.
“Now it’s my turn to say I’m sorry.” She watched as, with an effort, he pulled himself back to the present.
He shrugged. “I survived—with the help of my family and my faith.”
She looked down. “I had the family part, anyway.”
Eric frowned. “No faith?”
“Not anymore.”
“But Mom said that Sarah mentioned Sunday school.”
“My mother used to take her. I feel badly that I haven’t followed through, but my heart’s not in it.”
“What happened?”
She played with the edge of her napkin. “Jack and I went to church regularly. I used to think God really listened when we prayed,” she said haltingly.
“And now?”
“Let’s just say I haven’t seen much evidence that He does. I prayed when Jack was injured. Pleaded, actually. And bargained. And begged. I put my trust in God’s hands, always believing He’d come through for me. But He didn’t. So I figured, what’s the use? If God wasn’t listening to me, why keep talking? That’s when I stopped praying. And going to church. Mom picked up the slack with Sarah, but I’ve kind of dropped the ball since she…since she died. I feel guilty about it, but I just can’t go back yet. Maybe I never will. I’m still too angry at God.”
“You know, there’s a simple fix for the guilt about Sarah, at least.”
She gazed at him curiously. “There is?”
“Yes. Mom and I go to church every Sunday. We’d be more than happy to take her with us.”
Kate looked at him in surprise, then frowned. “But you’ve both done so much for me already. It just doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, then, think of it this way. We’d actually be doing this for Sarah.”
She conceded his point with a slight lift of her shoulders. “I can’t argue with that. Are you really sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“Absolutely. We’ll start tomorrow. You’d be welcome to join us anytime.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“It really might help, you know,” he pressed gently. “It was a lifesaver for me. We have a wonderful minister. He’s helped me through some pretty rough times.”
Kate didn’t want to discuss the state of her soul with anyone. She had too many conflicting emotions about her faith, too many unanswered questions. But she would like to know more about what had happened to turn Eric so completely off marriage. So far, he’d asked most of the questions. It seemed only fair that she return the favor.
“I take it your marriage wasn’t exactly…memorable,” she ventured.
An expression of pain seared across his eyes, like the white-hot flash of fireworks—brief but intense. “Oh, it was memorable, all right.” Though she saw he tried to mask it, the bitterness in his tone was unmistakable.
“Is it something you can talk about? Sometimes that helps. And I used to be a good listener. I’m a little out of practice, but I can give it a try.”
Even as she spoke the words, Kate was startled by their truthfulness. For the last few years she had been so focused on her own pain that she’d been oblivious to the pain of others. In one blinding moment of revelation, she realized that she had slipped, without even being aware of it, into self-pity and self-absorption. It was a disturbing insight. One of the things Jack had loved about her was her openness to others and her ability to empathize. He would hardly have recognized her now, she conceded. Since his death she’d closed herself off to everyone and everything except Sarah, her mother and her sister. And it had been an effective coping mechanism, insulating her with a numbness that made the pain in her life bearable.
But living the rest of her life in darkness and grief wasn’t going to bring Jack back, she acknowledged sadly. Somehow she had to find her way back to beauty and joy and hope, because suddenly she knew she couldn’t go on marking the days instead of living them. It wasn’t fair to her, or to Sarah—or to the memory of Jack, who had loved life intensely and lived each day with passion and appreciation, fully embracing all the blessings the Lord had bestowed on him.
But Kate had no idea how to begin the rebuilding process. It seemed like such a daunting task. Maybe listening to Eric, as he had listened to her, would be a way to start connecting with people again.
When her gaze linked with his, she found him watching her intently and she shifted uncomfortably. Was he angry that she’d turned the tables and asked about his private life? she wondered anxiously. She hadn’t meant to offend him. “Listen, I didn’t mean to pry, Eric. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that,” he assured her quickly. “It’s just that you— I don’t know, you had a funny look on your face for a minute.”
“Did I?” His perceptiveness surprised—and slightly unnerved—her. “I guess I was wondering if maybe I’d overstepped my bounds, asking about your marriage,” she hedged, reluctant to reveal the personal insight that had just flashed through her mind. “It’s just that talking to you about Jack and my faith helped tonight. I thought maybe it might help you to talk, too. But I understand if you’d rather not.”
He looked at her for a moment before he spoke, as if assessing whether her interest was real or just polite. “Actually, I haven’t talked much about it to anyone. Except my minister. Maybe because there isn’t a whole lot to say. And because it still hurts after all these years. And because it’s hard to admit failure,” he confessed candidly. “But I’ll give you the highlights—or low-lights, depending on your perspective—if you’re really interested.”
“I am.”
He gave a slight nod. “Cindy and I met when I was in medical school,” he began. “She was blond and beautiful, carefree and fun, always ready for the next adventure. I was the serious, studious type and it was exciting just to be with her. I never knew what she’d do next. All I knew was that she added a whole new dimension to my life. As different as we were, something clicked between us and I proposed a year after we met. We got married a few months later.”
“Sounds like a promising beginning,” Kate ventured.
“Yeah. Except things just went downhill from there. She didn’t like my choice of specialty, and she grew to resent the intrusion of my career on our personal lives. We both changed through the years—or maybe we just became more of what we’d always been. In any case, the differences we once found so appealing gradually became irritating and hurtful. In the end, we were barely speaking.”
He paused and looked down at his iced tea. The drops of condensation on his glass reminded him of tears, and he suddenly f
elt sad. “To be honest, I don’t think either of us was blameless in the breakup, but I feel most responsible,” he said heavily. “Cindy was right about my career—it takes an inordinate amount of my time. And it was a self-perpetuating kind of thing. As our marriage disintegrated, I spent even more time in the office and at the hospital, which only made matters worse. I don’t know…. Maybe she would have been more tolerant of my schedule if I’d been doing heart transplants or something.”
Kate frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Cindy wanted me to be a surgeon. That’s considered one of the more ‘glamorous’ specialties. And when we got married, I thought I wanted to do that, too. But eventually I realized that I didn’t enjoy practicing medicine in that sterile environment. I wanted to interact with people. And I love kids. Pediatrics was a natural fit for me. But Cindy hated it. It didn’t have enough prestige. She was bitterly disappointed in my choice—and in me. Over time, our relationship grew strained and distant, and in the end it just fell apart.” Eric didn’t tell Kate about the final hurt—the reason he’d finally agreed to the divorce. Even now, five years later, it made him feel physically ill to think about it.
Impulsively Kate reached out and touched his hand. “I’m sorry, Eric.”
Startled, he dropped his gaze to her slender fingers lightly resting on his sun-browned hand. It was funny. He couldn’t remember a single time during his entire relationship with Cindy when she’d touched him in quite this way, with such heartfelt empathy and simple human caring. His throat tightened, and he swallowed with difficulty.
“So am I,” he admitted, his voice suddenly husky. “I always believed marriage was forever, that if things got rough you worked them out. But by the time I brought up the idea of counseling, it was too late. Cindy had already given up. She finally asked for a divorce, and under the circumstances I agreed. But in my heart I still feel married. I spoke those vows in the sight of God, and I can’t forget them as easily as she did.”
“What do you mean?”
“She remarried a few months after the divorce became final. She and her new husband live in Denver. It’s not that I’m judging her, Kate. I leave that to God. But it wasn’t the right thing for me.”
“So that’s what your mother meant when she said she’d better take this opportunity to play grandmother,” Kate mused aloud.
Eric looked surprised. “She told you that?”
“Yes. The day I met her.”
“Well, maybe my message is finally sinking in. But I know she’s disappointed. As the only child, I was her one hope for grandchildren,” he said ruefully.
“Hey, hey, hey! This conversation looks way too heavy,” Frank interrupted with a grin. “Time to liven things up a little. Okay, Kate, one more round of lawn darts. I feel renewed after that meal.”
Kate smiled and glanced at her watch. “I really need to get home,” she protested.
“Eric, convince her.”
Eric shrugged. “He’ll be a bear to work with if he doesn’t get a chance to redeem himself.”
Kate laughed. “Okay. One more round.”
Fifteen minutes later, after she had once more soundly beaten her host, she and Eric said their goodbyes.
“He’ll never live this down, you know,” Eric told her with a chuckle as he escorted her to his car, his hand again placed possessively in the small of her back.
“Oh, people will forget,” she replied with a smile.
“I won’t,” he declared smugly.
“Eric! You aren’t going to use this against him, are you?”
“You’d better believe it,” he asserted promptly, grinning as he opened her door. “What are friends for?”
Kate shook her head and slid in. A moment later he took his place behind the wheel. “You know, he’s going to be sorry I came tonight,” she predicted.
Eric smiled. “Maybe so. But do you know something, Kate?” At the odd note in his voice she turned to look at him. “I’m not. I had a really good time.”
At his words, a feeling of warmth and happiness washed over her like a healing balm. “So did I,” she admitted quietly. “Thanks for asking me.”
“It was my pleasure.” As he pulled away from the curb, he glanced over at her. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
Again? Kate wasn’t sure that was wise. It wasn’t that she found Eric’s company lacking. He was a great conversationalist, an empathetic listener, intelligent, well-read—not to mention incredibly handsome. She liked him. A lot. And therein lay the problem. She liked him too much. While she might have reached a turning point in her life tonight, she wasn’t ready to deal with relationships—at least, not the male/female variety. And that included Eric—despite the fact that he wasn’t even in the market for romance.
Like Eric, Kate believed in that “till death us do part” vow. Even though she was no longer bound by it, in her heart she still felt married. Yet being with Eric tonight had awakened feelings long suppressed—and best left undisturbed, she decided firmly. Though her reactions had been subtle, they spelled danger. Intuitively she knew that Eric Carlson’s very presence could disrupt her life by raising questions she wasn’t yet ready to address and forcing her to examine issues she wasn’t prepared to face.
She turned and gazed out into the night with a troubled frown, oblivious to the passing scenery. Even her mild reaction—or maybe attraction was a better word, she admitted honestly—to Eric tonight made her feel guilty; as if she were somehow betraying the love she and Jack had shared. It was not a good feeling. And the best way to keep it from happening again was to stay away from the disturbing man beside her.
It was as simple as that.
Chapter Four
Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite that simple, Kate conceded the next Sunday as she waited for Eric to pick Sarah up for church. Their paths were going to cross every Sunday at this rate unless she decided to take Sarah to services herself. And that wasn’t likely to happen anytime in the near future. So she’d just have to get used to seeing him once a week and maintain a polite distance.
Except that would be easier said than done, she acknowledged with a sigh. There was just something about him that drew her. Maybe it was his eyes, she mused. They were wonderful eyes. Understanding. Warm. Caring. Compelling. She’d never seen eyes quite so intensely blue before—nor so insightful. When he gazed at her she felt he could almost see into her soul.
Strangely enough, that didn’t bother her, even though she’d always been a very private person. Maybe because—stranger still—she felt as if they weren’t just recent acquaintances, but old friends. Which made no sense. For all practical purposes, they’d met less than two weeks ago. Nevertheless, the feeling of familiarity persisted. It was disconcerting—yet somehow oddly comforting.
The doorbell rang, and Sarah dashed to answer it. Kate followed more slowly, grateful that Eric’s attention was distracted by his young greeter long enough for her to take a quick inventory—and then struggle to regain control of a breathing pattern that suddenly went haywire as she stared at him.
Kate had always known that Eric was a handsome man. He had classic Nordic good looks, and in a different age might have stood at the helm of a questing ship. Yet his gentle manner and kindheartedness were at odds with those Viking images of old. It seemed he had inherited the best of both worlds—ancient athletic virility and modern male sensibilities. It was a stunning—and extremely appealing—combination. And never had it come across more clearly than today. In a light-gray summer suit that emphasized his lean, muscular frame, and a crisp white shirt and dark blue, patterned tie, he was by far the most attractive man Kate had seen in a long time. Or maybe he was just the first one she’d noticed in a long time, she acknowledged with a frown.
He chose that moment to look up, and his smile of greeting faded when he saw her troubled expression. “Everything okay?”
She forced the corners of her mouth to lift and closed the distance between them. “Fine.”
“No, of course not.”
He studied her for a moment with those discerning eyes, as if debating whether to pursue the subject. Much to her relief, he let it rest. “We usually go to breakfast after services. Would you like us to swing by and pick you up? Make it a foursome?”
“Can we, Mommy?” Sarah asked eagerly. “I could get pancakes. I like pancakes,” she told Eric.
He grinned. “So do I.” He transferred his gaze back to Kate, and his expression softened. Or was it only her imagination? she wondered. “How about it, Kate?”
“I appreciate the offer, Eric, but your mom told me that’s your special time together. We wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Actually, it was her idea. But I had the same thought. She just brought it up first,” he said with an engaging grin.
“Oh. Well, maybe another time. I really hadn’t planned on going out at all today. I need to work on some lesson plans.”
“Now what’s that old saying? ‘All work and no play makes Jack a—’” At the sudden pallor of Kate’s face, Eric stopped short, his jaw tightening in self-reproach. Of all the stupid remarks! “Kate, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think.”
“It’s…it’s all right,” she assured him shakily. “It’s just that— Well, that saying was Jack’s motto. He was a great believer in keeping things in proper perspective. He always made sure we took time for fun, and he never forgot to smell the flowers along the way.”
“I have a feeling I would have liked him,” Eric said quietly.
She summoned up a sad smile. “I think you might be right.”
“Are we going now?” Sarah asked impatiently.