Drummer Boy

by Toni Sheridan

  Tim stroked her cheek and tucked a piece of hair that had slipped out of her messy topknot behind her ear. “Um, no…but also, sort of.”

  Jane turned and retreated back in the direction they’d come from.

  He caught her hand and laced his fingers through hers. She hated and loved the heat that surged through her and the way her pulse raced at his touch.

  “You love fun, and you love to flirt. It’s part of your cheery, kind nature, but you aren’t shallow. And you have more figured out about your life than you’re comfortable admitting. You’re just scared of anything that you can’t control, and there are two sides to that part of your personality: a huge, positive side that makes you such an amazingly productive, generous, go-getter as a volunteer and helper and nurse. And a huge negative side: in your personal life, if anyone gets too close to you, you run away.”

  “Wow, thanks for the psych evaluation. I’ll sleep so much better now.”

  Tim’s jaw tightened, and he walked faster, but he kept his fingers linked through hers.

  Jane was torn between wanting to yank her hand from his and wanting to never let him go.

  They were silent the rest of the way back to their cars, which were parked side by side, but clearly divided by a thick white line.

  “And one more thing,” he said, releasing her hold as they reached the driver’s side of her car.

  “Just one more?” Her hand was cold and felt smaller without his, which was completely bizarre since that was the first time, and no doubt, the last, they’d ever hold hands.

  “Those other guys? The ones you dated before your accident? The ones who sent flowers to your hospital room? The ones you’ve seen since? They never stood a chance with you before, and they definitely won’t now that you know what it’s like to spend time with someone who loves you.”

  Jane froze.

  Tim let out a sigh that sounded like an expression of pain. “Don’t look so freaked out. I’m not asking you to return my feelings or anything. I know I’m no great catch, but—and I’m sorry if this makes me a lesser person—I can’t, don’t want, to just be friends. I’ll always want good things for you, but my feelings are too intense. I can’t be with someone I’ll never be enough for—”

  For once no smart comment or response came to her. Wordlessly, Jane clicked the unlock button on her key fob and slid into the driver’s seat. Tell him how you feel. Tell him you love him, that you want to be with him, that you just need a bit more time, patience, a voice inside her encouraged. But she couldn’t. How could she? She would just let him down—like she already had. Like he himself had implied she would in the future. Tim’s gaze was on her, but she started her car anyway.

  He was still a moment, and then started to walk away.

  She unrolled her window. “Tim.”

  He turned toward her, eyebrows raised in hopeful expectation. Jane’s heart lurched almost painfully. How could he be so brave when she was always such a coward? He needed someone who was his match. Not indecisive and flirty and weak. “I pray for you, too,” she whispered.

  He looked so happy that tears misted her vision a little. “You do?”

  She nodded. “I pray that God has a wife in His plans for you. One who’s good enough for you. One who’s your equal. One who won’t let you down. One you can call blessed.”

  “But—”

  Jane smiled, brushed at her eyes, and then rolled up her window. Clicked the lock button. Turned the heat and defrost on full blast, and closed her eyes, trying to blot out the vision of Tim’s hurt, confused face.

  Eventually, Tim’s car engine started and his car slowly rolled away.

  She used her mirrors to check behind her vehicle before she pulled out—and again the white lines delineating her parking space grabbed her attention. If only life were as simple as a parking lot. If only one could break through all the things that boxed them in by merely deciding to.

  She was halfway to the hospital, on her way to her new posting’s orientation, when the significance of something Tim had said caught her. He’d said he loved her—he loved her!—but he was no great catch. What on earth did that mean? It wasn’t remotely possible that he thought he wasn’t good enough for her, was it? She shook her head. That couldn’t be.

  19

  The hall was warm and steamy with good smells—cooking turkey, bubbling gravy, apple and cinnamon.

  They had the funds to serve full-course dinners five days this cold, cold week, and Tim was both grateful and a bit distracted. His mind, when he was alone these days, played back his conversation with Jane.

  “Well, that went really well,” Tim grumbled to himself, throwing a pair of wool socks into each one of the gift bags in front of him. Then he grabbed the box of individual toothpaste tubes and started at the beginning of the line again.

  “You say something, drummer boy?”

  Another Jane-ism that had stuck at the kitchen. He shook his head. “No—just mumbling to myself, Aida.”

  “You better watch that.” She placed a flat of meal replacement drinks on the table beside Tim. “You might end up on the receiving end of the soup line.”

  “Not funny,” he said.

  “A little funny,” she corrected and bustled away.

  It took every ounce of willpower he had to not slam the cans of vanilla and chocolate flavored beverages into the bags. He was angry. Furious, even. But he knew it was just hurt feelings. He’d said his piece. Jane knew how he felt. It drove him crazy that she seemed to return his feelings one minute, only to flee the next—under the pretense she was doing it for him.

  He needed to pray that both he and Jane would have a true sense of who they were in Christ, and that he’d be able to back off and let her grow toward him, or away from him, however God willed. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it right away and ended up praying for forgiveness instead.

  God help me accept that she doesn’t feel the same way. Help me to be whole in You, and You alone.

  20

  Jane finished wrapping the last circle of duct tape around Candy’s Christmas present and smiled to herself. She’d outdone herself this year. The package was going to take forever to open. She tried to take some pleasure in the joke and succeeded mildly by imagining Michael and Matt’s responses.

  “What are you grinning about?” Dean asked, rounding the corner from the dining room and entering the living room.

  Jane jumped and whipped the present behind her back, though it didn’t matter who saw it now. It was well-disguised.

  “Uh, hey, Dean. How’s it going? Is Candy with you?”

  “No, she’s still working—and she said something about stopping by the grocery store for last minute goodies or something.”

  “Excellent.” Jane held out the gift and smoothed her hand along its side, game-show hostess style.

  “Wow, that’s really something—if ‘something’ is a total monstrosity of a wrap job. He’ll love it.”

  “He?” Jane asked. “He who? This is for Candy.”

  “Oh, I just thought…” Dean shook his head again. “Never mind.”

  “You thought it was for Tim?”

  “Well, don’t sound so disgusted. It’s not completely out of the realm of possibility that you’d buy him something. You guys are madly in love, aren’t you?”

  Jane punched Dean’s shoulder. “You hang out with girls too much.”

  Dean laughed. “So set me straight. Come help with dinner. I’ll fill you in about the latest at work, and you can spill the dirt on you and Tim.”

  “What makes you think there’s anything gab-worthy about me and Tim?”

  “Candy told me you went and talked to him the other day.”

  “Oh, she did, did she?”

  “Don’t be mad. She didn’t give details. Just said you were going to cut the poor guy a break and let him know you care about him.”

  Jane followed Dean to the kitchen, reluctantly. “If that’s ‘no details,’ I’m pretty lucky she w
asn’t in a sharing mood.”

  Dean passed her a bag from the fridge. “Scrub these spuds and tell Dr. Dean everything.”

  “You’re a nurse, not a doctor.”

  “Tomato, tamato.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Dean looked up from the asparagus he was paring. “You know how last year you kept encouraging me to give Candy another chance?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, let me return the advice, slightly modified. Give yourself another chance.”

  Jane raised her chin a little. “How do you know it’s me stopping anything?”

  “Well, I’ve talked to Tim a little. I recognize smitten when I see it.”

  “You know you’re a complete weirdo, right?” Jane filched a carrot stick from the plate of veggies Dean arranged.

  “And if by that you mean a complete weirdo who’s correct, then yes, absolutely.” He smacked her hand when she went to grab a cherry tomato. “You’re supposed to be helping, not eating everything in sight.”

  “You sound like Candy.”

  “Yeah, what can I say? Great minds think alike.”

  Jane rolled her eyes, turned on the tap, and washed the potatoes.

  “So here’s the thing...” she said eventually as she drizzled olive oil over the freshly scrubbed baby potatoes, then proceeded to sprinkle them with generous amounts of rosemary, garlic, and cracked black pepper. Her stomach growled.

  Dean turned the oven on. “Here’s what thing?” he asked when she didn’t continue.

  Jane stole another carrot. “I’m not cut out to be the kind of wife Tim needs.”

  “Oh,” said Dean. “Of course. What was I thinking? I guess that’s that then.”

  Jane narrowed her eyes. She crunched loudly. “You’ve met him. He’s a really good person. His faith is huge. He practices what he preaches. He lives like Jesus more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “And that’s wildly different from you, how?” Dean slid the potatoes into the bottom rack in the oven.

  Jane snorted. “I’m flaky, Dean. Face it.”

  Dean straightened to face her. “Flaky? I don’t think you’re flaky at all.”

  “Look how many guys I’ve dated over the years.”

  “You’re hilarious, very pretty, and a complete extrovert. Of course, you’ve dated. You’re always straight forward about not wanting anything serious, though.”

  Jane shrugged. “I guess.”

  “So is that what this is really about? Tim wants what you’re always afraid of? Marriage someday, kids…the works?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “And what do you want?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Dean retrieved a gorgeous slab of raw sockeye salmon out of the fridge and quartered a lemon. “Maybe it is, Jane.”

  Jane wanted to argue but sighed heavily instead.

  Dean’s focus had shifted to the salmon he was massaging with salt, brown sugar, garlic, and ginger. “Will you be here for dinner?” he asked.

  “Would I miss your cooking for the world?”

  “Candy’s right again. You’re nothing but stomach. Where do you put it?” he teased but grinned at her compliment.

  “It all goes into energy to put up with you and Candy and your advice.”

  Dinner was, as Jane knew it would be, delicious. And the company was great. Her brothers seemed to get funnier, and more mature, every day. Kaylie was, well, Kaylie, and it was fascinating to watch her and Dean’s daughter Isobel’s relationship develop.

  Isobel had bought into Kaylie’s year-long Christmas countdown calendar wholeheartedly and the latest edict was that each family member had to write a thought or wish or verse in the appropriate day’s box because December had arrived, and the countdown was in hyper-mode.

  Candy was full of stories and kept smiling over at Dean.

  Yes, it was a wonderful night all together, and it made Jane feel completely alone. She was outgrowing the role she’d played for so many years.

  Candy was sweet to disagree, but she didn’t need Jane the way she had before. She and Dean had the running the household thing covered, and soon they’d be married, and Jane would be in her own apartment again for the first time since university.

  And Kaylie—they’d visit as much or more wherever Jane was. Ditto Michael and Matt. In fact, they already made plans to get together, rather than waiting for the odd chance they’d all be home at the same time.

  That’s not what’s making you lonely and you know it, part of her whispered. And it wasn’t. She—fine, she’d finally admit it—wanted her own family. Wanted someone to smile at just because. Wanted someone to hold her. To come home to. To share her heart with. Someone, hey? Fine, she admitted again. Not just someone. And she finally made a decision.

  To be brave. For once. Forever.

  ****

  The din of chat and laughter and background music was audible from the parking lot. Jane slid out of her car and headed for the doors of the small church she’d never visited before. Then she paused to wait for Sarah.

  “Run, why don’t you?” Sarah asked.

  “Soon,” Jane said. “Soon.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. My doctor’s given the green light. I’m going to wait until after Christmas, but then I’m getting back at it.”

  “That’s great.”

  “And how have things been with you?”

  Sarah’s step faltered again, and she nudged at a pebble with the toe of her purple canvas sneaker.

  Worry snaked through Jane’s veins, and she stopped walking, too. “Sarah?”

  “Meh, meh, meh. I’m fine. Don’t worry.” She gave a small, wry smile. “I’m just not great. I was thinking about you the other day, and I’ve decided it’s better not to pretend everything’s hunky-dory when it’s not.”

  “Ouch,” Jane said.

  Sarah laughed a little.

  “No, I meant your advice made sense. We’re actually strong when we admit we’re weak. I love my life now, and I don’t want to wreck it—but I also want to get high pretty much every minute of every day. Does that make sense?”

  “Absolutely. And who knows? That desire may never disappear entirely. I know you can resist the temptation, though, and if you do fall down some time, don’t panic. God will always be there, ready and willing to pick you up again. And so will everybody else who loves you.”

  “This voice in my head keeps saying I’m fooling myself. That people don’t change. Can’t change. That I’m genetically predisposed to have a drug problem because of my dad.”

  Jane looped her arm through Sarah’s. “It does feel like that sometimes, but really, people can and do change all the time. In fact, change is inevitable. Some change is for the good, other change…well, the opposite of that, but the big thing is not to listen to those lies. Satan loves to deceive us. Make us feel that we’ve failed before we’ve even tried—but greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.”

  “That’s the first time you’ve ever quoted scripture to me.”

  “Really?” Jane wanted to resume walking but forced herself to stay still. “I guess I never felt I was someone good enough to quote the Bible at someone else. Made me feel like a hypocrite or something.”

  “But the Bible is to help make us stronger, bring us peace, and give us comfort. Why would we need it if we were perfect?”

  “Good point.” Jane squeezed Sarah’s arm lightly. “And something else you and I need to remember: we are not our parents. We may have some similarities, good or bad, but we are not them. We can make our own choices, our own decisions. We are new in Christ. We don’t have to carry the baggage of our past mistakes.”

  They were almost at the doors of the church, and golden light flowed from the big windows, lighting a path and revealing the slippery, treacherous parts of the walkway to avoid.

  “Do you still want to go to the service tonight, or do you want to grab coffee or somet
hing and talk some more?” Jane asked. She knew what she wanted to do, but the atmosphere would be loud and rowdy and celebratory. If Sarah needed something different, so be it.

  Sarah shook her head. “Tim’s talking tonight, and he’s nervous. I know he’s hoping we’ll—you’ll—be there.”

  Jane’s heart skipped a beat.

  “He’s way happier when he’s hidden behind a drum set.”

  Jane laughed. “Which is so funny because he always has good things to say. I guess it’s hard for everyone to see themselves as they really are—good and bad qualities.”

  Sarah pulled the door open and a soft wave of heat welcomed her and Jane in from the cold. “He says it’s easier to share when you’re there.”

  “Which is bizarre. I’m the worst public speaker who ever existed.”

  “Ever?” Sarah snickered. “I doubt it, but I see what he means. You guys are a good pair.”

  A good pair. The words caught Jane’s attention. Hit her as true. Made her smile. She felt right when she was with Tim. Working with him. Hanging out with him. It was only when they were apart that doubts and fear sneaked in. The conversation she’d just had with Sarah replayed and she said a small prayer of thanks. She was so grateful for the small moments God had used lately to show her big things.

  Now, if only Tim would give her another chance.

  The worship team was warming up, and people were filing in from the foyer and finding seats.

  Tim met her gaze from the stage the moment she walked into the sanctuary, as if he’d been watching for her.

  She bit her lip and gave a tentative two thumbs up.

  Tim’s brow furrowed.

  Jane’s breath froze in her chest.

  He didn’t want her there.

  It was as if they were alone in the room.

  He seemed to sense her thoughts and suddenly shook his head. “Silly,” he mouthed, winked, and then broke into a welcoming drum roll that ended in a riotous clash of cymbals.

  Jane’s smile brought heat that started at her toes and suffused her whole body. She pointed her finger at her temple and twirled it. “Crazy.”