Shelter of Hope

by Lyn Cote

  Marc kissed her hair and then her forehead. Finally, he claimed her lips.

  She relished his kiss, letting his lips linger on hers, memorizing the feel of their meeting.

  Then he lifted his head. “I better get going. You stay safe now.”

  No, don’t go. But she must let him go. She touched his cheek, free now to let her feelings for him show. “You stay safe, too.”

  He kissed her forehead once more and then climbed into his pickup and with a wave drove away.

  She waved in return, cozy from within, warmed by this man’s true regard for her and her son. Only when his pickup had disappeared completely from sight did she wander back inside.

  “I saw Marc kiss you!” Johnny announced with glee. “Is Marc your boyfriend now?”

  She smiled and went to her son where he stood by the window. She ruffled his bangs. “Snoop. Yes, Marc is my boyfriend now.”

  Johnny bounced, grinning. “Is he going to marry us?”

  Rosa chuckled at the way he’d phrased the question. “Maybe. Sometimes boyfriends marry girlfriends and sometimes not.” Like Trent. She refused to let any thought of Trent ruin this golden moment. “Now go put the hot cocoa mugs in the sink and get out your homework. I’ll help you while I cook supper.”

  “Right!” Johnny, carried along by his happiness, didn’t argue as he usually did about chores or homework.

  Rosa knew the feeling; she was floating with elation. Loving Marc was not something she could control or stop. So she would just trust that this was one of God’s blessings. I don’t deserve it, Father. But thanks.

  Consuela was still using her walker but thanks to Marc’s thoughtfulness, she had no problem navigating the hallways and doors in the new house on New Friends Street. Today Rosa had dusted and vacuumed the living room because Jill was bringing her mother’s wedding dress over for alterations. And Rosa intended to offer Jill another chance to choose someone else to be her bridesmaid. Every time she thought of the coming wedding her mind froze up.

  Also Eleanor had said that she would call today. She would have an update for Rosa about how the case for more, rather than less child support, was proceeding through the legal system. And she would find out what was being done to get the late support check. Every time Rosa thought of this complication, her stomach knit itself into intricate knots. And a happy bride-to-be was coming. Rosa needed to get with the program, not wallow in self-pity.

  A car door slammed outside. Rosa went to the front door and met Jill there.

  “Good morning!” Jill exclaimed. She handed Rosa an oversized white rectangular box which barely fit through the door. While Jill came in and shed her jacket, Rosa took it to the loveseat, their only living room furniture.

  “It’s brisk but sunny. A perfect fall day!” Jill announced.

  Rosa took Jill’s jacket and hung it on the door nearest the kitchen where Marc had recently hung a board he made with pegs for hanging coats, backpacks, etc. She wanted to get busy so Jill would talk mostly to Consuela.

  “How are you this morning?” Consuela said from her chair in the kitchen.

  “Fine. I just left Luke and Marc busy hanging Naomi and their parents’ Christmas lights,” Jill said.

  “Christmas lights!” Consuela said, clapping her hands together. “I love them. They are wise to hang them now before the cold and snow come.”

  Outside Naomi’s house, Luke stood beneath Marc who was on the twelve-foot yellow fiberglass ladder. Luke was feeding up the strings of multi-colored LED lights that would adorn Naomi’s front windows on the first and second floors. Marc had just finished attaching them to the roof line and reached for the new string.

  “Uh, Marc, what do you think of renting tuxes for the wedding?”

  Marc heard the hesitance in his brother’s voice and wondered what was causing it. “Why ask me? You’re the groom. More importantly what does Jill say?” Marc finished the string he had and motioned for the next. “From what I understand, the bride is the one who makes the plans. All we men do is shower and show up.”

  Stretching, Luke handed up the next string. “Well, she says she wants it to be a stress-free and simple wedding. The most important part she says is that we love each other and that we share that good feeling with those we love. Make it a special day for everyone who comes.”

  Marc was impressed. “Jill has the right idea.” He slipped the string of lights into the hooks that would hold them in place.

  “She’s…great. I mean, she really cares about people. I mean, just like your Rosa…”

  Jill was standing in the center of Rosa’s nearly bare living room. She had put on her mother’s wedding dress inside out. Consuela was pinning it to fit Jill, who appeared much more slender than her mother. The dress was a very simple white satin dress with a modest V-neck, three-quarter length sleeves and a simple sweeping train, the shortest type of wedding dress train.

  “This is a very good gown,” Consuela said, drawing pins from her wrist pin cushion. “The cloth is very fine and the line is flattering.”

  “Rosa, have you given any thought to what you want to wear as bridesmaid?” Jill asked, looking over her shoulder.

  On her knees to spread out the train on the brown Berber carpet, Rosa took a deep breath. “Don’t you want someone else—”

  “No,” Jill said firmly. “You were there the first time Luke and I met. I think you should be there when we wed—as my bridesmaid.”

  Rosa realized arguing further would be rude. Jill might think that she didn’t like her or Luke or wasn’t happy they were marrying.

  Your Rosa, Marc silently repeated the words to himself. That’s what his brother had said. Should he tell Luke that he was exactly right about Marc’s feelings for Rosa? Or ignore the comment? Stewing on this, Marc climbed down the ladder. “Well, that does it for Gram’s lights. We don’t put the nativity scene out till Thanksgiving.”

  In fact, that was a family tradition. After the feast and without caring what the weather might be, he, Luke and their dad always put out the life-sized lighted nativity scene on Gram’s front yard. When Luke didn’t reply, Marc looked to him.

  Luke stared at Marc. His brother’s face was twisted in concentration. Marc knew that particular look. “What’s bothering you, bro?”

  “I always thought you would be married before me,” Luke blurted out.

  Me, too, bro. Rosa’s face came to mind. Marc grinned. “It isn’t bothering me that you’re getting married before me, Luke. I’m cool with it. Come on. Let’s go get Mom’s lights up.”

  Luke looked relieved.

  The two of them headed to the lane through the harvested cornfields that linked the two houses. Shoving their bare hands into their pockets for warmth, the two of them walked over the frozen wild grass, making a muted crunching noise.

  “I would rather,” Luke said, “that we just wear our Sunday suits. I didn’t even wear a tux for prom.”

  Marc smiled. “I remember your date was none too happy.”

  “How about you and Rosa double with me and Jill this Thursday night?” Luke asked. “We—Jill and I—thought we’d go out on the same week night and the same date with you two, kind of a replay.”

  Marc wondered if his little brother and his bride-to-be were engaged in some benign matchmaking. Marc hid a grin. Well, why not play along? No sense spoiling their fun.

  Rosa knelt beside Jill’s feet, slipping in the pins that were too low for Consuela to reach. “So where will we be ordering our bridesmaid dresses?” Rosa didn’t like the fact that the cost of this dress might make it necessary for her to work extra hours at the truck stop restaurant. But this is important. “I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.”

  “I’ve never been a bride before,” Jill teased. “I talked to my cousin who will be my maid of honor. She already had started sewing a special dress for a special New Year’s Eve party so she’s decided she’ll just wear it to the wedding.”

  “What color is it?” Consuela asked.<
br />
  “Royal blue.”

  “That is a good color for Rosa. I could make you a dress, Rosa.”

  “Abuela, I don’t want to put you to any work. You’re still recovering—”

  Consuela stopped her by waving a hand. “Except when I do my exercises, I sit all day. Why shouldn’t I sit at the sewing machine?”

  The phone rang. Was it Eleanor?

  Rosa swallowed with difficulty and rose to answer it. “Hello, this is Rosa.”

  “Rosa, this is Eleanor. I just talked with Trent’s lawyer. I asked why the support check had not come yet. And I have some unpleasant news for you.”

  “What?” Rosa asked, then held her breath.

  “Trent is asking for a paternity test to be done.”

  “A paternity test?” Shock shot through Rosa.

  “Yes, he says that he now doubts that he is Johnny’s father.”

  The words slapped Rosa in the face. She gasped silently. “But he knows he’s Johnny’s father. He knows he is.”

  “This is just a ploy. Just a way to hurt you or embarrass you. Don’t let him get what he wants. He is just being nasty.”

  Now Rosa burned. Lava coursed from her heart through her body. How could he be this low?

  “In the end, it doesn’t matter. I am going to get you a larger amount of monthly support for Johnny. Don’t worry, Rosa. It may take time, but in the end he’ll pay. I’ll make sure he pays.”

  When Rosa thought about what this DNA test might do if her son ever knew Trent had requested it, she forced down the urge to be sick. “I just wish Trent had left matters as they were. I don’t like this—”

  “Put it out of your mind, Rosa. Leave it all to me. You’ll have to take Johnny to your doctor and have her take a sample of his DNA. Tell me your doctor’s name and phone number. And don’t worry—I’ll tell the doctor not to let Johnny know why they will be taking a sample. Johnny doesn’t need to know anything about this total nonsense.”

  Rosa complied and then thanked Eleanor for all she was doing for her and hung up. The pulsing anger had waned. A fuzzy feeling filled her as if this day was a dream. It’s not an illusion. This is the way Trent wants to hurt me. To pay me back for not just letting him do whatever he wants. A distasteful reminder of how he’d pressured her to give into him in high school.

  Before she turned back to the bride-to-be, Rosa pasted on a tissue-paper thin smile. “So the maid of honor is wearing blue. What style of dress?”

  She made her decision. Trent would not spoil any more of her life. She liked Jill. Rosa had never been part of a wedding party. Maybe this would be the only time in her life she would be asked. She would get a lovely new dress. And into the bargain, Marc would be there to see her in it.

  “I’ll have her call you with the number of the pattern. Your dresses don’t have to be identical, just complementary,” Jill said. Consuela asked Jill to turn so she could work on the other side seam.

  The phone rang again. Rosa answered, hoping it wouldn’t be Eleanor with more bad news. Marc’s voice asked, “How about a double date with Jill and Luke Thursday night?”

  She had never counted their double date with Jill and Luke as a “real” date. And this was just the moment she wanted something happy to think about. “Yes.”

  “Great. See you.” Marc’s voice told her more than the simple words.

  Hanging up, Rosa grinned from the inside out. Trent, just because you’re a jerk, doesn’t mean I have to let you hurt me. And she was looking forward to the wedding, of Marc seeing her in a pretty royal blue dress. And she was looking forward to a date on Thursday night with a wonderful man. What more could she ask?

  Thursday night came finally and there was a knock on the door. When Rosa opened her front door, she expected to greet Marc. But Marc was not at the door. And the urge to slam it in the unexpected man’s face rocked through her. “You have your nerve—”

  Trent’s father raised a hand, interrupting her. “Let me tell you why I’ve come. Please.”

  She stepped out into the chilly outdoors, pulling the door shut behind her. “I doubt that you have anything to say that I want to hear.” Seeing this man, who looked so much like his son, his son who had hurt her over and over, flooded her with terrible memories. And the terrible destructive emotions that went with them. A bitter taste coated her tongue.

  He looked pained. “I don’t blame you for thinking that way. But I’ve come to make matters right.”

  “Make matters right?” What trick is this?

  Marc’s truck pulled up at the curb behind what must be Trent’s father’s car, a BMW. Marc bounded out of his truck, running to her.

  Rosa pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit Eleanor’s speed dial number. “I’m calling my lawyer. I won’t have your family coming to my house and making more trouble for me and my family.”

  Marc arrived at her side and put an arm around her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m Dr. Clayton Fleming.” He offered his hand to Marc who ignored it. Dr. Fleming grimaced. “I hope you will change your mind about me. Earlier today I told Trent that he must withdraw his request for a DNA test or I will write him out of my will.”

  Rosa glared at the man. He couldn’t be telling the truth.

  Eleanor answered the phone.

  “Eleanor, Trent’s father is here—”

  “I’m glad you called. I’ve been so busy today that I haven’t had a chance to call… Just a moment, Rosa.”

  Rosa heard Eleanor talking to someone else. Marc tucked her closer to him in the cold of evening, putting his jacket around them both. And more importantly his protection. She had no doubt he was more than capable of running this man off her property.

  And then Eleanor came back on line. “Trent has withdrawn his request for a DNA test and has agreed to the increase in child support.”

  “Just like that?” Rosa asked.

  “Just like that,” Eleanor repeated. “I don’t know why Trent did a complete turnabout. But he did.”

  “Thanks.” Rosa said goodbye and closed her phone. At this quick turn of events, she was left with nothing to say. She wobbled like she’d just ridden on a Tilt-a-Whirl.

  “What is it, Rosa?” Marc asked softly.

  “He’s telling the truth,” she said the words but still didn’t feel that they could be real.

  “I am very sorry that I didn’t take action earlier,” Dr. Fleming said. “The thing is, I had never seen your son…my grandson. When I saw him that day at the pumpkin farm, I realized that I had let my wife’s lies that your son wasn’t really Trent’s son hoodwink me. I could see clearly that your son is my grandson.”

  “How?” she asked, bewildered.

  The door behind her opened. “What is going on, Rosa?” Consuela asked.

  The ground beneath Rosa’s feet still shifted.

  Marc looked at his watch. “I’m sorry but we need to get going, Rosa, if we’re going to be on time to meet Jill and Luke at the Diner.”

  Dr. Fleming reached for her hand. “May I visit on Sunday afternoon and meet my grandson?”

  “Call me first,” Rosa said, giving him her landline phone number.

  “I will.” Dr. Fleming bowed his head and then walked away down the path to his BMW.

  Marc tucked her closer and hugged her. “Are you ready to go?”

  Rosa nodded. “I just need my jacket.” They stepped inside and after bidding Johnny and Consuela goodnight, they got into Marc’s pickup.

  “What was that all about?” Marc asked.

  “I can’t talk about it right now,” Rosa said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. “Is that all right?” she asked, looking to him.

  “Yes, but I hope you’ll tell me when you can.”

  “I will.” She took his hand and lifted it to her cheek. “I will.”

  He leaned over and kissed her.

  She returned the kiss and then chuckled. With Marc near nothing seemed all that bad, not even Trent. />
  “What’s funny?”

  “Johnny asked me if you were my boyfriend now.”

  “What did you tell him?” Marc asked, teasing in his voice.

  “I said yes, you were.”

  Now Marc laughed. “I like the sound of that.”

  Me, too. Rosa recalled the story of the nativity, the verse that said that Mary Mother of Jesus treasured all these things in her heart. For once, Rosa thought she might know how it felt to treasure special feelings in one’s heart.

  Instead of going to the movie, the four of them—Jill, Luke, Marc and Rosa—had decided to reenact the first double date. However, they had agreed that they would omit Jill’s father in the role of chaperone. After a delicious supper at the Diner where they all ordered the same food as the first date, they walked—this time hand in hand—to the bowling alley.

  It was noisy in the same cheerful “let’s have fun” spirit that Rosa still found contagious. She sat at their same booth and watched Luke teasingly showing Jill how to get a better hold on the bowling ball. Bursts of laughter and falling pins filled the air.

  Marc leaned over and murmured into her ear, “I’m really enjoying this. I’m so happy for them.”

  “They were meant for each other,” she murmured in reply. Wonderfully relaxed, Rosa noticed Marc was at ease, too. It seemed impossible that just months ago with these same people, she had been constrained here. Then she chuckled to herself thinking of the phrase, “bowling alley magic,” which came back to mind from that first time.

  “What’s so funny?” Marc asked.

  She shook her head, holding in the glee of the moment. She reached under the table and took his hand. He cradled it in his and pressed it closer. Rosa sat back, resting her head and gazing at the lights overhead. I don’t deserve this but thank You, Father.

  The afternoon was crisp and clear. Marc breathed in deeply. With Spence away on business, Marc watched Johnny’s soccer team as they went through one of the last few practices of the season. He blew his whistle. “Everybody line up for a dribbling drill!”

  The kids now knew what to do and quickly formed their accustomed lines. One side dribbled the ball to the other side and then walked back with the other player to the starting spot. Spence had taught the kids to give each other encouragement as they did this. So a pleasant babble of kid voices filled the air. A few parents, dressed in hooded sweatshirts and gloves, perched on the bleachers, faithfully following their kids’ progress.