After they finished eating and the table was cleared, everyone moved to the living room to open Christmas presents. Joe felt out of place, as each member of Lois’s family exchanged gifts. Besides the candy, he’d brought only one gift, and that was for Lois. Joe had hoped to give it to her in private, but it didn’t look as if that would happen.
“Only two presents are left,” Tabby said, as she stacked the items she’d received onto the coffee table.
“One’s mine to give Joe, and the other he brought for me,” Lois said. She went to the tree and picked up Joe’s gift. Joe followed, and they handed each other their presents.
“Should we open them at the same time or take turns?” Joe asked.
Lois shrugged. “Whatever you’d like to do is fine with me.”
“Let’s open them together,” he suggested. “On the count of three. One—two—three!” Joe reached into the green gift bag and pulled out a necktie with a painting of Noah’s ark and a rainbow on the front.
“Thanks, Lois. This is great,” he said with sincerity.
“You’re welcome.” Lois tore the wrapping off her gift and peered inside. Then she looked at Joe.
“What is it?” Tabby asked, craning her neck to see around Seth, who sat beside her on the couch.
Lois held up a bright orange construction worker’s hat with a bunch of gizmos attached. Even to Joe it looked weird.
“What in the world is that?” Lois’s father asked from his chair across the room.
“It looks like something from outer space,” Seth said, laughing. “Why don’t you model it for us, Lois?”
Lois stared numbly at the so-called “hat” Joe had given her. Two empty cans of soda pop were attached to either side, each connected to a giant plastic straw that trailed over the top of the hat. A third straw came up the back then down over the bill. Hooked to one corner of the helmet was a microphone cord, which was attached to a small metal box with a red lever on the side. Lois had no idea what Joe expected her to do with it.
“I—I thought it would be a nice addition to your clown outfit,” Joe said, his face flushed. “Why don’t you try it on and show us what it can do?”
Lois stood there, her gaze shifting from Joe to the gruesome hat and back again. She would never wear such a hideous thing! What had possessed the man to give her this ridiculous Christmas present? She handed the hat to Joe. “Here—you wear it.”
He shrugged and set it on top of his head. “I might as well show you how it works while I do my clown routine.”
Lois sat down on the couch beside Tabby, folded her arms across her chest, and watched.
Joe flicked the red button on the small box attached to the microphone, and suddenly a high-pitched noise pierced the air.
Lois cupped both hands over her ears and grimaced. She noticed Mom and Grandma had done the same. Tabby, Seth, and Dad were all smiling as if Joe had done something great.
Joe switched the red lever to the right this time, and bells started ringing. He jumped up and down. “Are those Christmas bells, or is the fire alarm going off?” he shouted.
Before anyone could respond, he bent down and grabbed an orange and two apples from the glass bowl sitting on the coffee table. One at a time he tossed the pieces of fruit into the air, and he soon had them going up and down simultaneously.
Lois had to admit that Joe was good at juggling—and all other phases of clowning for that matter. In minutes he could captivate an audience, as he apparently had her family.
“What goes up must come down!” Joe shouted into the makeshift microphone. “Anyone thirsty?” He continued to juggle the fruit as he pretended to drink from the straw connected to the cans. As if that weren’t enough of a show, Joe did it while he hopped on one foot.
Everyone cheered, and Lois noticed her father was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks. Joe’s goofy antics had sure made an impression on him. If Slow-Joe the Clown comes around more often, Dad’s interest in spiritual things might even be sparked.
As he juggled the fruit, Joe talked about Christianity and how people often juggle their routines to squeeze in time for God. When he was finished, he dropped the fruit back in the bowl then bowed. Everyone clapped, including Lois. Joe had done a good job of presenting the good news, and he’d made her family laugh. Not only was Slow-Joe a great entertainer, but he was a lot of fun. Was that enough? she wondered.
As the day wore on, Joe began to feel nervous. He liked Lois’s family, and he had finally admitted to himself that he was in love with Lois. During the first part of the day she’d been warm and friendly, but since he’d given her that dumb hat and done his impromptu routine, she’d been aloof. He wondered if she was sorry she’d invited him today. It might be his first and last meal at the Johnsons’ home, and in his book that would be a real shame.
When Lois excused herself to clear away the dessert dishes, Joe jumped up and followed. “Need some help?” he asked, stepping into the kitchen behind her.
Lois placed the pie plates in the sink. “You rinse, and I’ll put the dishes in the dishwasher.”
“I think I can handle that.” Joe went to the sink and turned on the faucet. He waited for Lois to say something, but she remained quiet as he rinsed the plates and handed them to her.
When the last dish was in place and the dishwasher turned on, Joe reached for Lois’s hand. “I had a good time today. Thanks for inviting me to share your Christmas.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Joe leaned forward, cupped Lois’s chin with his hand, and bent to kiss her.
She pulled away abruptly. “We should get back to the others.”
“I blew it with that dumb gift I gave you, didn’t I?”
She looked at Joe, tears gathering in her blue eyes. “You made a hit with my dad.”
“But not you?”
She pressed her lips together.
The tears in Lois’s eyes were almost Joe’s undoing, and he was tempted to pull her into his arms and say something funny so she would laugh. He hated tears. They were for weak people who couldn’t control their emotions.
“I’m in love with you, Lois,” he whispered.
Lois stared at him, her eyes wide.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked, tipping her chin.
“I–I’m speechless.”
Joe chuckled and kissed her forehead. When she didn’t resist, his lips traveled down her nose and across her cheek then found her lips.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. Finally, Lois pulled back and sighed, leaning her head against Joe’s chest. “I love you, too, but I think you might need a woman who’s more like you.”
Joe took a step backward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shook her head slowly. “You’re a clown, Joe. You clown through the day and into the night.”
“That’s my job, and I hope I’m good at what I do.”
“You are,” she assured him.
“Is it because I don’t make a lot of money clowning? Is that the problem?”
Lois shook her head. “I’ve told you before that I’m not hung up on money. But the thing is, all you ever do is clown around. You make jokes when other people would be saying something serious. You don’t show any other emotion besides happiness. I suspect you do it to avoid revealing your true feelings.” She paused. “After that scene with your brother on Thanksgiving, I think there’s a lot you haven’t wanted to share with me. I respect your privacy, Joe. But if we’re going to continue our relationship, don’t you think you need to trust me by sharing what happened in your past that has upset you so much?”
Joe looked at his feet. Lois was right; he needed to be up front with her and stop hiding behind his clown mask to keep from facing his true feelings. But he wasn’t sure he could do either yet. Maybe he needed a few more sessions with Pastor Cummings.
“I’m not ready to discuss my family’s problems at the moment,” he sai
d, offering her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “But if you’ll be patient with me, I hope maybe someday….”
She squeezed his hand. “Let’s both be praying about this, okay?”
He nodded and brought Lois’s fingers to his lips. “I’d better be going. It’s been a great day, and no matter what happens down the road, always remember I love you.”
Chapter 23
Joe sat in the chair across from Pastor Cummings’s desk, his left leg propped on top of his right knee. Today was his fourth counseling session, and each time he entered this office he became more uncomfortable. The pastor had a way of probing into Joe’s subconscious, and some of the things he’d found there scared Joe.
“Tell me more about your mother,” the older man said.
Joe released his breath and with it a deep moan. “Well, I’ve told you she was very depressed one minute and happy the next, and she only got worse after Dad was killed. Her moods were so unpredictable and her expectations ridiculous.” He dug his fingers into the sides of the chair and fought against the urge to express his anger. “It was because of Mom’s actions that Brian left home shortly after high school. She made our lives miserable when she was alive, but I still loved her.”
“Of course you did, Joe.” Pastor Cummings leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “What did you do about your mother’s actions?”
Joe shrugged his shoulders. “To avoid her anger, I gave in and let her have her way on things—even stuff I felt was wrong.” He looked at the pastor. “It was easier than fighting back and suffering the consequences of her frequent outbursts.”
“If I’ve been hearing you right, you felt as though your mother wanted something you weren’t able to give.”
Joe moved in the chair, putting both feet on the floor. “That’s correct. Sometimes I just wanted to shout, ‘Go away, Mom, and leave me alone!’ ”
“But you thought by your mother’s actions that your feelings didn’t matter?”
Joe nodded again.
“The truth is, they do matter. Because you didn’t want to be like your mother, you’ve chosen to stuff your feelings down deep inside.” Pastor Cummings picked up his Bible. “Part of the healing process is being able to accept the pain. God made our feelings, and He uses them to help guide us.”
Joe only shrugged.
“Do you let yourself cry when you’re hurting, Joe?”
Joe shook his head. “Tears are a sign of weakness. Mom was weak, and she cried a lot. Brian was weak, and he ran away from home.” Joe pointed to himself. “I chose to stay and take care of Mom, even though she never showed any appreciation.” He frowned. “When she was nice, I felt myself being drawn into her world, like a vacuum sucks lint from the carpet. When she was hateful, though, I wanted to hide my head in the sand and cry until no more tears would come. But I didn’t.”
“It’s not a weakness to cry or hurt, son. Tears can be a key element to strength.”
Joe blinked. He’d never thought of tears being related to strength.
Pastor Cummings held the Bible out to Joe. “Here—open to Ecclesiastes, chapter three. Then read verses one to four.”
It took a few seconds for Joe to locate Ecclesiastes. He read the passage aloud:
“ ‘To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…. A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.’ ” He paused and looked at the pastor. “I guess I’ve never read those verses before, or if I have they never hit home.”
“The Lord reveals the meaning of His Word when the need arises. Perhaps you weren’t ready to accept the truth before today.”
Joe swallowed hard. Pastor Cummings was right; he hadn’t been ready. Even now, when he’d been hit with the truth, he was having a difficult time dealing with it. He’d spent so many years hiding behind his clown mask, refusing to show any emotion other than laughter, and even that was forced at times. He felt like a phony, realizing how often he’d clowned around or cracked jokes when deep inside he felt like weeping. Part of him wanted to give in to his tears. Another part was afraid if he did he might never stop crying.
“Mom asked the Lord to forgive her and committed her life to Him shortly before she died,” Joe said. “Even though I knew God had forgiven her for treating me so badly, I guess I never forgave her.” Joe lowered his head. “I’ve always felt guilty about it, so maybe that’s part of the reason I’ve been hiding behind humor.”
“You’ve discovered a lot in our last few sessions,” the pastor said softly. “It will take time for you to put it into the proper perspective. For now, though, pat yourself on the back and rest in the Lord. He will show you how and when to cry if you need to.”
Joe nodded, feeling as if his burden was much lighter than when he’d entered the pastor’s study. Maybe someday he would even be ready to discuss his feelings with Lois.
The month of January and the first days of February drifted by like a feather floating in the breeze. Lois kept busy with her secretarial duties at the church during the week, and she spent most weekends helping Tabby redecorate their guest room, turning it into a nursery for the soon-coming baby. It kept her hands busy and her mind off Joe Richey. Since they’d said good-bye on Christmas Day, she’d heard from him only twice. Once he’d called to tell her how much he liked the cute tie she’d given him, and today she’d received a Valentine’s card from him in the mail.
“Hey, sis. You look as if you’re a thousand miles away.”
Tabby’s sweet voice pulled Lois out of her musings, and she swiveled her chair around to face her sister.
“You’re good at sneaking up on me,” Lois said with a grin.
Tabby ambled across the room and lowered herself into the chair beside Lois’s desk. She patted her stomach. “I’m practicing for motherhood. Aren’t moms supposed to be good at sneaking up on their children and catching them red-handed?”
Lois chuckled. “You’re right, but I was only typing a memo for Pastor Hanson. So you didn’t catch me with any red color on my hands,” she added, smiling.
“It looked more like you were daydreaming to me,” Tabby said in a teasing tone. “Unless you’ve learned how to make that computer keyboard work without touching the keys.”
“I guess I was caught red-handed,” Lois admitted with a sigh.
“What, or shall I say whom, were you thinking about?”
Lois handed the Valentine to her sister. “This came in today’s mail.”
Tabby’s eyes opened wide as she read the verse inside the card. “Sounds like the guy’s got it bad, and it’s a far cry from the funny clown hat he gave you for Christmas.”
Lois lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Sure—that’s why he never calls or comes around anymore.”
“Maybe he’s been busy with performances. Entertaining is what he does for a living, you know.” With her finger, Tabby traced the outline of the red heart on the card. “This Valentine could be a foreshadow of something to come, you know.”
Lois was silent then finally said, “Yes, it could be.”
Tabby stepped over to Lois’s chair. “There are only two ways to handle a man.” She laughed. “Since nobody knows what either of them is, I suggest you give the guy a call and thank him for the beautiful card.”
“I’ll think about it,” Lois murmured. “But I’ve called him a lot over the last few months, and I don’t want to seem pushy.”
Tabby hugged her sister. “There’s nothing pushy about a thank-you.”
“True.” Lois smiled. “Okay, I’ll call him tonight.”
“Good for you.” Tabby started toward the door. “I need to get back to the day care. I’ve taken a longer break than I’d planned.” She stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Say! Do you smell something?”
Lois drew in a breath. “Smoke. It smells like there’s a fire somewhere in the building!”
Chapter 24
Joe had battled the desire to see Lois for several wee
ks. But today was Valentine’s Day, and he’d decided to take action. She would no doubt have received his card by now, so he hoped the sentimental verse might pave the way.
As he headed toward Tacoma on the freeway, all he could think about was the need to make things right with Lois. Through counseling with Pastor Cummings and studying the scriptures, he’d finally forgiven his mother and come to grips with his past. Now he wanted to share everything with Lois. He hoped she would be receptive.
A short while later, Joe drove down the street toward Lois’s church. His heart lurched when he saw two fire trucks parked in front of the building. As he pulled his pickup to the curb, he could see firemen scurrying about with hoses and other pieces of equipment. Billows of acrid smoke poured from the church.
Joe sprinted from his truck across the lawn, only to be stopped by a fireman. “You can’t go in there, sir. A fire started in the janitor’s closet, and it’s spread throughout most of the building.”
“My girlfriend—she works here,” Joe said between breaths. He would do anything to find Lois. “I have to get inside!”
The fireman put his hand on Joe’s arm. “It’s not safe. We’re doing everything possible to put the fire out, so please stay out of the way.”
Joe dashed to the back of the church, thinking he could slip in that door unnoticed. He had to find Lois and see if she was all right. Others might also be trapped in the church.
He had almost reached the door when two firemen stepped between him and the building. “Where do you think you’re going?” one of the men asked.
“I need to get inside. My girlfriend—”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” the other fireman shouted. “There’s been a lot of damage to the structure. Most of the fire is out, but it’s not safe in there.”
Joe looked around helplessly, wondering if he could get inside another way. “What about the people inside?” he asked, feeling his sense of panic taking control.
He filled his lungs with air and prayed. Dear Lord, please let Lois and everyone else be okay.
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