Softly and Tenderly

by Sara Evans

  “Don’t underestimate the power of a grieving mother.”

  “Believe me, I won’t.” What time was it? Four thirty already? “Can I leave Asa here while I meet with Gus?”

  “Okay by me, but will he mind?”

  “I’ll be back before he misses me.” Max’s cell rang. He looked at the screen. Cara. “Benson . . . Hey, yeah . . . Excellent, excellent . . . Really? Did you draw up the guardian papers? . . . Okay, okay, don’t get in a tizzy, just asking. Did I ever tell you how great you are, Cara?” He winked at Tripp. “Sure, I’ll add it to your fee. See you in twenty.”

  “And what’s that all about?”

  Max tucked his phone back in its holster. Max grinned. “My ace in the hole.”

  “There he is, there, there.”

  Jade woke from where she’d been sleeping in a chair beside Mama’s bed. The colors of the afternoon shaded and warmed the room. Sunbeams danced over Mama’s bed.

  Since her early morning kiss with Dustin, Jade had holed up in Mama’s room, avoiding June’s scolding gaze and sour expression when she wandered down to the kitchen.

  Uncurling her legs, she crawled onto the bed beside Mama.

  “Who is there, Mama?” She brushed back the frayed ends of her hair. Tomorrow she’d wash it for her. “Did you have a dream?”

  Her eyes, wide and clear, were fixed on something beyond the window. “Jesus is here, on His donkey, waiting for me in the field.” Her finger trembled as she pointed to the window, toward the bright light. “He’s waiting for me.”

  Goose bumps trickled over Jade’s skin. “Mama, you see Jesus?”

  “Oh yes, He’s waiting.” Mama eased back down to the pillows, her eyes slipping closed.

  “Mama,” Jade whispered, “h-how do you know it’s Jesus?” She could be seeing anything, anyone. The hospice nurse warned about hallucinations, and it was no secret Mama had gone on a few acid trips in her day.

  “He’s beautiful. Pure.” Mama’s voice purred. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen out there on any psychedelic trip.”

  “He’s waiting for you?” She regretted her tone, incredulous and dubious. But it was Mama who once told her death meant she’d inherit her own planet with all male servants.

  “I think so. But He won’t look at me.” Her voice weakened, and she gave up any trailing thoughts.

  “Mama?” Jade shook her shoulder gently. “Why won’t He look at you?”

  “Waiting.” She squeezed Jade’s hand. “Holy.”

  In the next breath, she dozed, slack jawed, wind battling its way into her rattling lungs.

  “Jesus, don’t take her tonight.” Jade bent to kiss Mama’s temple. “Please wait . . . I’m not ready.”

  “He’s calling you, Jade-o.” Mama’s voice was clear and strong. But her eyes were closed. She snorted between each word. “He loves you.”

  “Mama?” But she slept. Gentle jostling didn’t rouse another word out of her. Jade crept over to the window and searched all the corners of Tank Victor’s field.

  In the back booth at Mae’s, Max sipped black coffee, his hand resting on a sealed legal-size envelope. The idea of reasoning with Gus, alone, came to him during a moment of desperate prayer after he’d rescued his son from the baby-entangling crib.

  He didn’t hold much hope in winning Gus over until Cara called. The investigator they’d hired had earned his fee.

  When Gus entered, Max caught his attention with a raised hand. Sliding into the booth across from him, Gus was somber, even worried.

  “Coffee,” he said to the waitress before she could even ask. “So what’s this all about?” Gus touched the envelope with his fingertips.

  “I want you to call off the dogs,” Max said. “Stop the suit. This isn’t good for y’all, me, or Asa.”

  “I got a woman at home who hasn’t stopped crying since the judge awarded you custody. Then you won’t let her see him. I had to call the doc for some tranquilizers. Can’t say it’s wearing on me well either.”

  “We were set for an amiable relationship until you decided to sue for custody.” Max jammed his finger on the tabletop. “Sole custody . . . without giving me any rights at all.”

  “We’re doing what’s best for the boy.”

  “Call off the suit, Gus. And you’ll be the grandparents of the century. I promise, y’all can see him whenever you want.”

  “Don’t see how I can do that, Max. Bradley Richardson thinks we got an open-and-shut case.” The waitress returned, set down a cup, and filled it for Gus. Then she set down a basket of biscuits. “On the house. Sorry about Rice, Gus.”

  “Thanks, Lindy.”

  “Call off the suit, Gus.” Max laid his hand on the envelope.

  “Can’t do it to Lorelai.” He stuck out his lower lip, shaking his head. “She’s got her heart set on raising that boy.”

  “Gus, you’re over seventy. Do you have the energy to raise a toddler?”

  “We’re in good health. We can hire help.”

  “Why’d you let her talk you into this? We could be sitting here right now, enjoying Asa together, remembering Rice.”

  A wet sheen covered the older man’s eyes. He started to say something, but hesitated. “It’s just best for the boy.”

  “You can’t put the burden on Asa to take Rice’s place.”

  “I said it’s best for the boy.” Gus blew on his coffee before taking a sip.

  Max shoved the envelope across the table. “Then here.”

  Gus nodded with his chin. “What you got in there?”

  “Just a little ammo.”

  The veins in Gus’s neck throbbed. “Is this how you want to play it?”

  “Seems you set the rules, Gus. You and Richardson. This is fair warning of what’s to come if you keep going. Come on, this whole thing is ridiculous, and you know it. Rice would never want this.”

  “I don’t know any such thing.” He opened the envelope and scanned the pages. His expression revealed nothing. When he slipped the papers back into the envelope, he peered at Max. “This isn’t proof. They’ve never found any evidence.”

  “DNA testing has come a long way since the ’60s, Gus.” Max slid out of the booth, dropping a ten on the table. “If the media gets wind of this and the DA is pressured to reopen the case . . .”

  “I wasn’t even involved!”

  “Then you should have nothing to worry about.” Max stood by the table for a second. Gus stared straight ahead. “Rice is dead, Gus. I’m hurting and grieving with you and Lorelai. End this, and let her rest in peace.”

  Sunday morning dawned with a new warmth. Finally. Jade woke with a hunger for worship. When the church doors opened at ten o’clock, she planned to be there.

  Showered and dressed, she sat on the Iowa burial mound snaking along the back of the yard and lifted her face to the rising sun.

  “It’s finally getting warm.” June appeared between the weeping willow and the side of the garage, arms crossed, her eyes scanning the horizon. “Beryl’s sleeping. I hooked her up to the oxygen and she went right out.”

  “Thank you.” Jade regarded her mother-in-law. Their conversations were cordial but tight since the Dustin argument. “Something on your mind, June?”

  “Carla Colter called.”

  “Did she now?” The wind skipped past the ends of Jade’s hair, tugging and twisting. “Say what you have to say, June.”

  “She saw you, Jade. When you came home with Dustin after the football game. She heard the truck and got up, thinking something was wrong, and well—”

  “So she had to get on the phone and call you? What is it with you church ladies and gossip?”

  “She didn’t call to gossip. She was concerned. For some reason, she’s under the impression you and I have a good relationship. Carla thought you might need to talk.”

  “If I needed to talk about kissing Dustin, I don’t think it would be to you, June. It’s none of your or Carla’s business.”

  “It is my business.”
Her blue eyes snapped to Jade’s face. “You’re married to my son. I told you this would happen.”

  “Nothing happened.” Jade scoffed. “What gets me, June, is how when your son or husband lie and cheat, it’s okay with you to twist the truth. But I kiss my ex one late night and bam, the whole world has to know.”

  “I hated keeping Asa from you.” June sat on the mound next to Jade.

  “But you did it anyway, didn’t you? My husband had a son the whole time we’ve been married, and you couldn’t break your asinine honor code? Look, June, Dustin is a friend. And Friday night, I really needed a friend.”

  June grabbed her chin. “I’ve seen this look in your eye before, Jade. The first time you came to dinner at Orchid House with Max. You were falling in love with him.”

  “There’s no look in my eye.” Jade freed herself from June’s grasp. “Mama had it right about me. I cling too tight. I don’t like rocking boats or having rugs pulled out from under me. I’m not an adventurer. Well, maybe it’s time to change.”

  “You listen to me.” June lowered her hand. “Think long and hard about the Y in the road you’re about to take. Paying Max back for his indiscretion with Rice won’t change what he did. Or the fact that he has a son. It won’t make you feel better about the abortion or miscarriages. What if you get pregnant with Dustin’s child?”

  “Pregnant? From a kiss? Oh my gosh . . .” Jade jumped up with a hard glare at June. “This isn’t about me; it’s about Max. You’re not sure if Rebel really is his father, are you, June?”

  “I’m sure. I was already pregnant, barely, when I went to meet Bill. Maybe that’s why I was so repulsed by our affair. The life in me was already speaking.”

  Jade stared out at the field. A redbird sat about ten yards past the edge, its brilliant feathers a stark contrast to the dark chocolate dirt.

  “When I met Max, he was a knight on a white steed. He took away my fear of falling in love. So I gave my heart. All of it. Then I discovered he had a secret. A love affair with pain meds. I could weather that, help him through. But it also scared me. I saw how weak he was—not in a manageable, everyday way, but in a ‘this could cost us everything’ way.”

  “Max relies so much on his capabilities he’s unaware when he’s about to drive off a cliff.”

  “I don’t want to be riding with him if he does. I’m sorry if that sounds mean. I can’t trust him, June. I can’t. I search my heart, tell myself I should go home. I do love him. But the one thing that holds me back? I can’t trust him.”

  “If you sleep with Dustin, you’ll despise yourself, and him, like I did Bill. Right now, he’s a good friend. A place to feel wanted. Believe me, I know.”

  “I’m not going to have an affair.”

  June’s touch was light on Jade’s shoulder. “Shug, wake up. You’ve already started down the path.”

  Twenty-four

  Asa screamed the last one hundred miles to Prairie City. Nothing Max tossed at him satisfied—juice, French fries, chicken nuggets, toys, books, DVD. Nothing.

  The noise jabbed Max’s skin like a million pinpricks. The phrase “getting on my last nerve” took on a whole new meaning.

  The last ten miles, he just gunned the gas, set his jaw, and aimed straight for Beryl’s place. Upping the radio volume, he zoomed in on the lyrics and bass beat.

  He’d been resisting the urge to swallow a couple of Percs until he got Asa to a safe place. But sooner or later he’d have to deal with the shakes and vomiting. Detox would come later.

  Once he signed on the dotted line to go to the Outpost, he felt relieved, a blend of peace and trepidation.

  No fooling around this time. If he failed there? He shook off the idea. God, what’s it going to take for me to get serious about You, about my life?

  The prayer whispered across his soul, panic hit his heart, a certain dread and trembling. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. But Max remained this side of stupid.

  As he breached Prairie City’s town limit, he slowed down, looking for the turn off to the old farmstead. Shouldn’t be too hard to find. A white clapboard dwelling rising up from the budding Iowa prairie, situated beneath blue clouds, nestled between coffee-colored fields.

  A half hour outside Prairie City, Asa finally fell asleep, spilling over the side of his car seat like a sack of bricks. Max exhaled. At last, peace.

  When the house came into view, doubt stood front and center. Thirteen hours on the road, he’d not called Jade to warn her. If she said no, he didn’t know what he’d do. While he deserved to be told no, he couldn’t accept the answer. He had six days to convince her, if he had any power of persuasion.

  He’d spent most of the drive time talking to God and musing on what he wanted to say to Jade, taking phone calls from his colleagues who’d agreed to handle his cases. Dad declared Max’s move to be too dramatic and drastic. He rumbled and spouted, even hinted Max might not have a place at Benson Law when he returned. What kind of respect could Max command if he constantly ran when his problems became too large?

  Dad could be really obtuse.

  Nine hundred miles, six hours of sleep at a roadside motel, six McDonald’s stops, twelve cups of coffee, and Max still had no idea what he wanted to say to Jade.

  Except please.

  The driveway gravel popped under the Mercedes’ tires as Max pulled even with the house and parked. The place looked good, kept up, recently painted.

  After parking and taking a moment to stretch and reckon with anticipation, Max opened the door and stooped for his son. “Come on, Asa.” He unbuckled the sleeping boy from the car seat and flopped him over his shoulder.

  His little OshKosh jeans were stained and at the moment, soaked through. Max hadn’t changed him since breakfast. Hey, why’d he pay top dollar for the fancy diapers if they couldn’t do the job? As he flung the diaper bag over his shoulder and reached for Asa’s bear, the boy woke with a jerk, screaming. How did he do that?

  “Hey, son, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Taking the porch steps, the door opened before Max could ring the bell.

  Jade stood on the other side. Man, she was a sight for sore eyes. “What are you doing here?” She stood aside for him to enter as Asa continued squirming and screaming. “Is he sick? Are you all right?”

  “We’re fine, other than a very long car trip.” Max slipped the bag from his shoulder to the floor.

  “What is going on in here?” Mom came in from the kitchen. “Max, what in the world?” She reached for Asa without pause or question. “He’s soaking wet.” She glared at her son and picked up the diaper bag, murmuring to the little boy, “Let Grandma take care of things.”

  Mom disappeared upstairs, cooing and soothing her grandson. And Max was left alone with his wife. It’d been, what, eight days since he’d seen her, but it felt like a year. He yearned for her with a power that took his breath.

  “You look like crap.” Jade stood on the other side of the coffee table, arms folded, her posture defensive.

  “Good. Matches how I feel.” The living room welcomed him with a worn wingback chair facing the TV, a loosely crocheted afghan over the back of a mohair sofa, the aroma of coffee, seasoned lumber, and soap permeating the air. “And it’s good to see you too.” He collapsed in the chair, his back spasming as the tension released.

  “Max, when did you feed him last?” Mom called down the stairs. “And what did you feed him?”

  “Four hours ago, maybe? French fries.” He bent over the chair’s arm to see to the top of the stairs. She tsk, tsk, tsked him.

  Jade slipped her hands into her jeans pockets. She looked to him like she’d lost a little bit of weight. “D-do you want some coffee?”

  “Coffee? No.” Max pressed his hand over his belly. His stomach burned at the sound of the word. “Water, please, a big glass. And food? Real food.”

  “Mama’s friends have filled the kitchen with all kinds of stuff. There’s homemade soup.”

  “Sounds good. Thank you
.” He appreciated her civility. He followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the ’50s looking red-ice table. “We should get one of these,” he said, smoothing his hand over the surface.

  “I have one. Right there.” She peered back at him as she lit a fire under a large soup pot.

  “I mean at our house.”

  “Max, why are you here? Why didn’t you call?” She opened a drawer for a stir spoon. “Your eyes are glassy and bloodshot. How many?”

  “Ten, maybe twelve a day.” Their eyes met. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  She stirred the soup, not prodding for information. “Willow and Aiden are on their way. Mama’s dying.”

  “Babe, I’m sorry.” His hand shook as he lifted the mason jar of water to his lips.

  Jade’s back was to him, but he watched her wipe her cheeks with her hand. “She sees Jesus. On a donkey.” Her shoulders rounded forward, shaking.

  Max didn’t care if she was angry with him; he pushed away from the table and gently touched her back. She turned and was in his arms, weeping.

  “I’m so tired,” Jade said.

  He wrapped his arms around her back and kissed her forehead. He stroked her hair and exhaled past his first barrier. Holding her. The situation with Beryl was going to make what he had to say even harder.

  “Anyone home?” The kitchen door shoved open, and Dustin Colter stepped inside.

  Jade jerked out of Max’s arms, her face red and wet. “Dustin, hey, come in.”

  His eyes locked onto her, then slithered over to Max. “Dustin Colter.” He offered his hand. “You must be Max?”

  Max’s palm slapped against Dustin’s. “Yes, I’m Jade’s husband.”

  Dustin held his gaze for a long moment, then looked toward Jade. “I brought the Cadillac back.” He dropped the keys to the table. “Good as new. The bill is taped to the wheel. She can pay us whenever she’s ready.”

  “Actually, it’s my bill. I’ll bring the check around later, Dustin. Thanks.”

  The tenderness of her tone hardened in Max’s gut. “What happened to Mom’s car?”