“Aw, but I want a snack.”
“After your bath. Go.”
Emmy pouted, but she didn’t complain further as she made her way into the bathroom.
Pamela wrapped a ponytail holder around the bottom of Emma’s hair. “Your homework’s finished, right?”
“Yep. But I need you to sign the fall festival form.”
Emma hopped up and pulled the sheet out of her backpack. Pamela read through the various needs for her class. Someone to work the booth. People to bring snacks and small trinkets. Someone to put together the basket to be raffled. Grabbing the pencil off Emmy’s bed, she said, “Guess I’ll sign up for cupcakes again.”
Emma’s shoulders slumped. “I was hoping we could work the booth. I got to help paint it during lunch today.”
Pamela looked at the date of the festival again. She didn’t have any night classes, so she should be able to make it. She grinned and pulled Emma into a hug. “Okay. We’ll do the booth.” She pointed to Emmy’s backpack. “Get her bag, too. I’m sure I need to sign up for something for her.”
After signing Emmy’s paper and brushing through her hair once she’d gotten out of the shower, Pamela took the girls to the kitchen for a snack. Bedtime took over an hour every night, and she was always exhausted by the time the girls were nestled into their beds.
Tonight, she still had a couple loads of laundry, which was a challenge because she had to lug the clothes to the B and B since she didn’t have a washer and dryer in the cabin. Sure, it was only twenty or so yards to the main house, but it was still a pain. Plus, she had her own homework to do.
Jack drifted through her mind. If he had never left, she’d have someone to lean on, to help her with all the daily chores that went with having children. Now he pleaded to be allowed back into her life, into the lives of her children. She couldn’t deny the check he’d tried to give her would help out in many ways.
But she couldn’t do it. Money usually came with strings attached, and she didn’t trust him. What if she let him back in their lives and then he started drinking again? What would that do to the girls? She shook her head. No. She couldn’t risk it.
Once the girls finished their snack, she guided them to their bedroom and listened while they said their prayers. Their innocent faith was sweet, and she wished she could protect them from the cruelty they would one day encounter in the world. Part of her wished she could go back to a time of such childlike innocence. But adult life wasn’t like that. Responsibilities weighed far heavier, and God had failed her more times than she’d have ever imagined He would.
With the girls tucked in, Pamela made the short trek to the main house. She threw a load of clothes in the washing machine and started it. She opened the door to head back to the cabin.
“Pamela, will you come here a minute?” her mom called from the living area. Pamela walked in there to find her mom and dad sitting on the couch. Dread filled her when she noticed they held hands. She braced herself for bad news. “What is it?”
“We got a phone call today.” Her mom placed her hand against her chest. “I can’t even begin to tell you how surprised we were. It was so unexpected.” Mom gazed at Dad, who nodded in agreement.
Fury washed over her. She knew who had called them. Swallowing back her emotions, she nodded. “Okay.”
“It was Jack.”
She bit the inside of her mouth, willing herself not to throw a fit right in front of her parents.
“You don’t seem surprised,” said her dad.
She lifted her chin. “I’m not.”
“He wants to meet with us.” Tammie’s voice was a little above a whisper, and Pamela couldn’t decipher the expression on her face.
“We told him he could come here for lunch tomorrow,” Mike said.
Pamela blinked several times as she peered at her parents. “Why would you tell him that?”
Her dad stood and walked toward her. He placed his hand on Pamela’s shoulder, but she pulled away. “He says he’s clean. Finished his degree. Even has a good job. I called around after we got off the phone with him. He seems to be telling the truth.”
Pamela looked away from her parents. She couldn’t believe they would betray her this way. “Doesn’t mean he won’t go back.”
“We want to talk with him. It’s the right thing to do. It’s what God would—”
“Don’t talk to me about God!” Pamela marched out of the house. She didn’t care that she sounded like a spoiled teenager as she slammed the sturdy door shut. She hated the bitterness she felt, the deep-to-her-core fear that Jack would walk back into her life and trample her heart all over again. It was not her parents’ place to meet with Jack. He was her husband, and the girls were hers. Not theirs. Just one more reason she could not wait to be on her own completely.
Chapter 4
Jack stepped out of the car, then tucked the bottom of his flannel shirt into his good pair of jeans. He’d forgotten about the splattering of paint on the bottom of the shirt. He should have remembered! He needed to make a good impression on Mike and Tammie. They were giving him a chance, and he had to make the most of it. Sucking in a deep breath, he remembered his and Owen’s prayer for God’s blessing on this visit. He had to trust in God’s grace and not worry about flannel shirts and paint.
Raking his fingers through his hair, he allowed his gaze to take in Jacobs Family Farm. It was just as it had always been. The white bed-and-breakfast looked inviting with the yellow-and-orange mums, pumpkins of various sizes and happy scarecrows surrounding the wooden sign that welcomed guests. He could see the edge of the small cabin behind the B and B, the white farmhouse to the right, along with the gift shop and café, the activity center and petting zoo. The apple and peach trees to the left seemed to go on forever, and his mouth watered at a sudden memory of Pamela’s homemade apple crisps. The family had always raved over her strawberry pies, and they were amazingly delicious, to be sure, but her apple crisps...
Jack licked his lips. He could almost feel the warmth of the apple, the crunch of the granola. Could almost taste the perfect mixture of sugar and cinnamon, the apples, tart and yet sweet. He cupped his hand over his mouth, then ran his fingers from his cheeks to his jaw.
He drank in the rolling mountains behind the property, adorned in yellows, oranges, reds and greens. Blowing out a breath, he willed his pounding heart to slow down. It was like God had picked up paint and brush and created a masterpiece of warmth and comfort in those Tennessee mountains. His mind replayed walks with Pamela through that land. Times he’d held her hand, kissed her lips, her neck...
He shuddered. He hadn’t anticipated such a strong reaction to the place. His throat felt dry and coarse. He needed a drink. Water.
As he curled his fingers tighter around the keys, unworthiness washed over him. He didn’t deserve to try to have this again. This life. This family. Pamela and his girls. He’d thrown it away. Worse than that—he’d ignored and trampled the gift God had given him.
I can’t do this, God.
He grabbed the car door handle.
“Jack, is that you?”
He looked to the house and spied Tammie standing on the porch. Eight years could have been eight days. She hadn’t changed a bit. Dark hair rested on her shoulders. She wore a green sweatshirt and jeans. Her expression was kind and caring as ever. Mike stepped out of the house. He had more salt in his salt-and-pepper hair, but other than that, he’d changed as little as Tammie.
Mike waved for him to join them. “Well, come on up here, son. Let’s have a look at you.”
Son? How could Mike say that? Jack had left their daughter and two grandbabies.
The Spirit nudged him to just trust Him, and Jack put one foot in front of the other. Somehow he made it to the porch. He took Mike’s extended hand in his. Before words could leave his mo
uth, Tammie had enveloped him in a hug.
“It’s good to see you again.”
Jack swallowed back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Why would they be nice to him? How could she so willingly embrace him? “You have no idea how good it is to see you two, as well.”
She released him, and Mike patted his shoulder. “Let’s go inside and talk.”
Jack nodded as he followed them inside. The living room looked just as he remembered. Old-fashioned, homey furnishings, the smell of cinnamon. The land, the house, his in-laws...only days could have passed rather than years.
Until he scanned the walls and tables covered with pictures of his daughters at various ages. Proof that more than a day or two had slipped out of his grasp.
“Why don’t you look at the pictures while Mike and I get the sandwiches and chips?”
Jack moved toward the fireplace. He bit his bottom lip at the photo of the girls smiling cheesy grins, probably three and four, sitting at a small table. The next photo was of them and Pamela sitting in front of the Christmas tree. Emmy was just a baby. Emma not much bigger. Pamela was smiling, but she seemed tired. Alone.
He looked away and spied pictures of the girls with Pamela’s brothers, Kirk and Ben. Emma sat on Kirk’s shoulders. Emmy on Ben’s. They were dressed in red-and-white outfits and had probably been heading to Bloom Hollow’s annual Fourth of July celebration.
“They’re beautiful girls.”
Jack started at Tammie’s words. He turned toward her and Mike as they set a tray of food on the coffee table. “They look like their mother.”
“They do,” said Mike. He motioned toward the food. “Go ahead and get yourself a plate.”
Jack placed a ham-and-cheese sandwich, chips and a pickle on his plate and sat in the wingback chair. He lifted the sandwich to his mouth, then placed it back on the plate. “I need to talk first.”
“Okay,” said Tammie. Her gaze was kind, open to whatever he had to share.
“What do you need to tell us?” said Mike.
“Everything.”
With the one word came a waterfall of confessions. He shared about his battle with alcoholism, of bouncing from his parents’ home to friends’ homes until he finally ended up in a homeless shelter in Texas.
“It was the night the woman showed up there with her two daughters. The woman’s eyes were blackened. The girls were cold and terrified.”
Jack swallowed, trying to shake away the vision that still plagued him at times. He thought of the night Pamela told him to leave the house. He was drunk, yelling at her, and he’d come close. So close to... He couldn’t even think the words. Wouldn’t allow them to form in his mind.
“When I saw that woman and those girls, I became physically ill, knowing they could have been my girls. I cried out to God. Jermaine was there. He prayed with me. Became my mentor. He’s the one who helped me get back in school. Gave me the job at the shelter. Accepted me as a friend.”
Tammie swiped a tear from her cheek. She and Mike held hands and leaned toward each other.
Jack went on, sharing about the past three years, the changes he’d made in his life, going back to school, living and working at the shelter, even calling Pamela and hanging up.
Glancing at the clock, he realized two hours had passed. He had to get back to the shelter for a meeting with the pastor of the sponsoring church. He handed them the check Pamela had sent back to him.
Mike took it, then grabbed Jack in a hug. “We never stopped praying for you.”
Tammie wrapped her arms around both of them. “And we won’t now. We’ll be praying for you and Pamela.”
“Thank you.” Remembering Pamela’s anger at seeing him at the school, he knew only God could help Pamela forgive him.
* * *
Pamela’s leg wouldn’t stop shaking. She doodled another star on the edge of the notepad, then crossed her left leg over her right. Concentrate. You need to know this stuff.
She straightened her back and lifted her chin, determined to hear the words droning from the professor’s mouth. Why did financial management have to be so boring? Glancing at her cell phone, she wondered if Jack was still at the house. She bit back a growl of frustration that her parents would consider speaking with him.
After uncrossing her legs, she curled her right foot around the left, then tucked them both under the chair. She simply could not sit still. Noting the glare from the dark-haired guy to her left, Pamela offered a faint smile, then grabbed her purse and walked out of the room.
She released the growl once the door shut behind her. Lifting the purse strap onto her shoulder, she stalked to the ladies’ restroom. Jack infuriated her. Her parents infuriated her. What were they thinking meeting with him after all this time? They, of all people, knew what she’d gone through when he left. The exhaustion. The tears. The loneliness.
She wet a paper towel with cold water, then dabbed her cheeks and forehead. She had to get a handle on her emotions. After throwing away the towel, she scavenged through her purse for change. Maybe if she bought a pack of gum from the lounge, she could keep her jitters at bay by chewing a piece, or the whole pack. Whatever it took.
With change in hand, she spied the vending machine and selected a flavor. After popping a piece in her mouth, she swallowed a quick drink from the water fountain to cool the fiery cinnamon taste. She stood to her full height. Pamela Isaacs, you can do this. March right back in that room. Take notes, and stop thinking about Jack.
“Pamela, how are you?”
She turned at the deep voice of one of her professors from two semesters ago. If ever there was a man who could tempt her to consider falling in love again, Dr. Peter Dane was the guy. Dark hair fell in one perfect wave to the left on his forehead. Brilliant blue eyes glistened above a five-o’clock shadow that covered a strong jawline. Though a bit on the short side, broad shoulders and a muscular frame made up for any concerns about his height.
“Dr. Dane, you remembered my name.” Her cheeks warmed. Her tongue had gotten tangled up with the gum and she’d spit out the words. Literally.
“You’re a poet and didn’t know it.” He laughed. “Of course I’d remember you.”
Warmth raced from her cheeks down her neck at the sudden intensity of his expression. “I’m actually in class right now.” She pointed to her mouth. “Just needed a little help to stay focused.”
“What class are you taking?”
“Financial Management.”
He cringed. “Dr. Mays?”
She nodded.
“Yep. A challenge to stay awake, let alone concentrate.”
She nodded again. He didn’t say anything else, and Pamela couldn’t think or move. She focused on the slight dark curl at the base of his neck.
“Well, maybe we could meet after your class. Get a late lunch.”
Pamela gripped the purse strap. He couldn’t be asking her on a date. “I have to pick up my girls from school.”
He snapped his fingers. “I remember. Emma and Emmy, right?”
She nodded once more. He remembered her girls’ names? She hadn’t seen Dr. Dane in months and couldn’t recall that she’d made more than a handful of comments in his class. Sure, all the students filled out an information form at the beginning of the semester, but for him to remember her daughters...
Pamela didn’t know how to respond.
He grinned and leaned closer. “Maybe another time.” Her heart stopped beating when he whispered, “At least now I know where to find you. Dr. Mays’s financial management class.”
He turned and walked away. Dumbstruck, Pamela blinked and watched him go. What had just happened? Surely, her ultracute professor wasn’t interested in her. But what if he was?
She and Jack had never divorced. She’d never sought him out for one.
For years, part of her had hoped one day he would clean up his act and come back to her. Those hopes had died away soon enough. Returning to college had given her an independence she hadn’t realized she’d missed so desperately.
She wasn’t quite nineteen when Emma was born, and Emmy joined them just one year and a day later. Pamela hadn’t known independence at all until she’d gone back to school. Now she relished it. Soon she wouldn’t need her parents’ help. She most assuredly didn’t need to pine after Jack. And Dr. Peter Dane was gorgeous with a capital G.
Now that she knew where Jack was, maybe the time had come to ask for a divorce. It wasn’t as if they’d had any semblance of a marriage the past eight years. And abandonment was biblical grounds, wasn’t it? Not that she cared what God thought. At least, she didn’t want to care. She headed back toward the classroom. It was something to think about.
Chapter 5
“So, what did you think of the service?”
Jack sat in the chair across from Owen and his wife, Karen. “The sermon was terrific. The pastor spoke the truth. No mincing of words. I like that.”
Owen picked up the menu. “Yeah, and I can relate to the apostle Paul and the whole trying not to do what I want to do.”
Jack took a drink of water. “Fighting our natural desires is not an easy thing.”
“Yeah, like the temptation to order one of the diner’s famous cheeseburgers and fries instead of the chicken salad and diet soft drink,” Karen said as she placed her and Owen’s young son in the high chair.
Owen chuckled. “I don’t know if I’d put the temptation of food in the same category as alcohol.”
“Why not?” Karen lifted a cracker out of the diaper bag and handed it to Wyatt. The toddler cackled and clapped his hands before taking the treat. “We all have battles, and mine plagues me, as well.”
“True,” said Jack. “But overeating won’t land you in a homeless shelter.”
A Family Reunited Page 3