Charlotte gazed out her window. “We all have a few scars. Nobody reaches adulthood unscathed. Chris might change some of the past if he could. Wouldn’t we all? But he’s such a good kid. God bless my daddy. He stepped right into those father figure shoes, spent time with Chris, took him places. I don’t know what we would have done without him.”
“You still miss him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I do. But it was different from losing my baby. I was tortured to think I would never hold her again, never see that sweet little face. That was before I was a Christian. I hurt when Daddy died, for myself, for Chris, for Mom. But I know we’ll see him again. And Sarah, too.”
Charlotte thought back to Jim Browne’s last day on earth. “Right before they took him into surgery, Daddy told us his life had consisted of taking care of people. Meaning Mom and me, Chris, and the boys he coached. He said his biggest job was done with Chris almost grown and he’d been thinking maybe Sarah was lonesome for her grandpa.”
Charlotte bit her lip. After a minute she continued. “Mother and I kept telling him it would be all right, but it was as if he knew. When the nurse sent us to the waiting room, Daddy said, ‘I’ll see you when this is over, either here or over there. Shape up, girls. I left it all on the field.’”
She smiled and explained. “That was Daddy’s attempt to lighten up the mood. Around the house he would sometimes do a comedy routine of endless football clichés. ‘We’re just going to play our game and not let them dictate the pace. We have to stop the run and defend against their passing game. They’re a great team with lots of talent so we’re just going to go out there and have fun.’ He could go for ten minutes and always ended with ‘our boys are going to leave it all on the field.’ He kept Mom and me in stitches with that act.”
Charlotte was momentarily lost in thought. “When they came out and told us he didn’t survive the surgery, I was a basket case,” she continued, wiping a single tear. “Mom cried too, but she reminded me Daddy always said he was ready to go whenever the Lord called him home.”
Rich spoke slowly, as if were searching for the right words. “Tell me something. How did you—that is, what made you decide to become a Christian?”
She was pensive. There were dark memories. “For a long time I couldn’t reconcile the concept of an all-powerful being who would bother with someone as worthless as me. And there were too many things I couldn’t figure out. One Sunday, the preacher talked about a wretched woman everybody wanted to condemn, but Jesus stood up for her. After He faced down her accusers, He told her to start over and try not to mess up again. I can’t tell you why, but the questions didn’t matter anymore. I understood enough to know Jesus is real and I wanted him to help me start over. Suddenly nothing else mattered.”
“Just that easy?” Rich continued to look ahead, showing no emotion.
“I wouldn’t say easy. You have to face wrong things you’ve done, admit you need help. Jesus did the truly hard part. Imagine a Roman soldier driving spikes through your hands and feet.”
Rich checked his watch as they reached San Antonio’s outer loop. “Want me to take you home or run by the hospital?”
“If you’re not too tired of driving, I’d like to catch Dr. Stephens,” Charlotte replied. As he maneuvered through the thickening traffic, she wondered if anything she’d said had made an impression. She wished she could tell a story the way Rich or her Daddy could.
A man and woman from Dick’s church said their goodbyes as Rich and Charlotte arrived at Dick’s room. One look at Dr. Stephens’ face told Charlotte all was not well. He and another doctor examined Dick, then turned to them.
“Mrs. Martino, this is Dr. Wang, a cardiologist I asked to consult on your father’s case. His condition has deteriorated.” Dr. Stephens had the family relationships totally wrong, but Charlotte let it go. The information was all that mattered. “Dr. Wang has reviewed some test results. I’ll let him explain.”
“Yes. Good evening,” Dr. Wang said politely. “Mr. Martino has significant arterial blockage, unrelated to the recent stroke. Dr. Stephens and I agree he must be moved to a critical care unit tonight. We want to monitor him more closely for possible coronary incidents.”
Rich didn’t mince words. “Dr. Stephens, is my dad going to live or die?”
“Doctors don’t know that,” he said, neatly deflecting the question.
“What is your professional opinion of his prognosis?” Rich persisted.
Dr. Stephens thought for a minute. “Your family needs to pray for the best and prepare for the worst.”
When the doctors left, Rich stood at the foot of the bed, ashen-faced, and stared at his father. Charlotte moved to Dick’s side and put her hand on his arm. She prayed softly. “Dear Father, please spare Dick from pain, and from fear. Please comfort Rich. Help all of us to accept Your will, whatever it may be. In Jesus’ precious name I ask for these tender mercies. Amen.”
Rich came and stood silently by her. He gripped the metal railing beside Dick’s bed. Charlotte kept one hand on Dick’s arm and absently patted Rich’s clenched fist with the other. After a long while, a nurse poked her head in the room and tactfully said she was ready to move the patient any time. Charlotte turned to Rich. “There’s nothing more we can do for him tonight. He needs some rest and so do you.”
“You’re right.” Rich moved sluggishly, as if awakening from a deep sleep.
They walked silently to the car. “Some stories are sad no matter how you tell them,” Rich said.
As the motor idled, Rich turned and looked at her.
“Charlotte...” His rich voice was gentle. “Would you have dinner with me? I know a great all-night Mexican place.” He turned to look out the windshield. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
She was tired. Tomorrow was a work day. The high heels made her feet ache. “I love Mexican food,” she replied.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rich and Charlotte sat in a booth at Tia Maria’s, their plates heaped with chicken fajitas, beans, rice, and guacamole. “I was still married to Joanne when Mother died. Fortunately she never saw the parade of daughters-in-law who came and went.” Rich took a steaming hot tortilla and made a chicken fajita taco. “Plus a few near misses.”
“Joanne was your first wife?”
“Right. I came home from Squadron Officer’s School and found out she’d had an affair. I was hurt and embarrassed as much as anything else. Half the guys in my outfit knew what was going on. The split started out with both of us angry and spiraled into absolute fury. We took no prisoners. She’d pull some mean trick to yank my chain and I would retaliate with something twice as nasty.”
“Could we have more tortillas, please?” Rich asked the passing server. “She didn’t want to give me visitation rights and I was foolish enough to think she would relent when things cooled off. The court set up child support through a state agency. Joanne signed a sworn statement claiming she couldn’t trust me to know where she was. Bottom line, I got back at my wife and lost my kids in the bargain. Jerry’s got a guy looking for them now. Won’t be long before he finds them.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not sure. To tell the truth, I don’t know what I would say to them.” Fresh tortillas arrived and Rich made another taco. “I was surprised at how bitter a divorce can be. Not to mention expensive.”
Charlotte stirred her tea. “Divorce is heart-breaking business, all the way around.”
“It wasn’t six months before I took another plunge.” Rich smiled ruefully. “Jennifer was an Air Force nurse. We weren’t in love. We were both on the rebound. Had to prove to our exes somebody wanted us. Things limped along while she worked nights and I worked days. She rotated to the day shift and we discovered we couldn’t stand each other. Jen took everything we had and rode off into the sunset after a couple of years. I can’t say I was sorry.”
“The rebound mistake happens a lot. You miss the companionship and comfort of bei
ng married and if you’re not careful you get in a worse mess than you left behind. Psychologists see that happen with patients all the time,” Charlotte said.
“But it didn’t happen to you,” Rich said as the waitress poured more iced tea.
“No,” Charlotte said. “I went the other direction. I swore off men completely.”
“I said I’d never touch another woman after every breakup. Then I’d get tired of Officers’ Club meals and empty apartments. Misery with company would start to look better than being alone and I’d start dating again.”
Charlotte looked into her tea glass as she swirled it. “Kiss enough frogs and you’ll find a prince.”
“It’s the flip side of ‘Don’t risk your heart and it can’t get broken’,” Rich said lightly. They ate in silence for a minute. “Now my most interesting wife was Virginia. One hundred-twenty pounds of pure evil. She was the most accomplished liar I ever met, raised dishonesty to an art form. Virginia convinced me to swear off marriage for three years. Then I met Rita. You already know what a sweetheart she is.”
“What now? Hibernation or party time?” Charlotte asked.
“Who knows? Do you know of any good monasteries where I could apply for admission?”
“None that accept atheists,” she replied honestly.
Rich grinned good-naturedly. “I can see how that might be a problem.” He turned serious. “Too much change is happening too fast. My retirement from the Air Force, splitting up with Rita, Dad’s illness. Short term, I have a few problems to solve. After that, I don’t know where I’m headed. It’s overwhelming.”
“Have you considered taking over Dick’s business interests?”
The waitress brought their bill. Rich smoothly transferred it from the table to his hand in one cat-like motion. “That’s a possibility,” he said. “Johnny would like that and he’s a good guy to work with. I’ve thought about it before, but never with Dad out of the picture.”
Their plates were cleared, the table wiped. “I guess I’m ready if you are,” Rich said.
* * *
On Saturday Charlotte drove to the Martino house directly from the hospital. Lottie, Chris, Jerry, and Lottie’s friend Martha were already there when she arrived.
Rich opened the door wearing a burgundy and gold shirt with burgundy slacks. He stood in the doorway, looked into her eyes, and smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here, Charlotte. Please come in.”
Charlotte marveled how Rich could communicate volumes using only his gorgeous blue eyes.
The dining room had been transformed. The classic china, crystal, silver, and linens reminded Charlotte of a pricey restaurant. The food was equally elegant and scrumptious. She knew Rich had spent the afternoon at the hospital. How had he pulled this off?
“I do wish you would let us help you clean up the dishes,” Martha fussed.
“Thank you, Miss Martha, but I need some dishwashing to keep me occupied when the house gets quiet tonight,” Rich replied.
“That was one of the best dinners I’ve ever had,” Lottie observed.
“You can say that again,” Chris chimed in. “That Italian beef was out of this world.”
“It’s very simple to make,” Rich said, adjusting the volume of the background music. “Toss everything in the crock pot and forget it for eight hours. I’ll give your mother my recipe.”
Chris, Lottie and Martha broke into laughter.
Rich looked puzzled. “Bad idea?”
“Charlotte? Cook?” Lottie giggled. “That’ll be the day.”
Chris leaned toward Rich conspiratorially. “The only reason we have a microwave is Mom thought it was a TV with a clock when she bought it.”
“Remember when you moved into your house?” Lottie said to Charlotte. “Jim—Jim was my husband, Charlotte’s father—offered to take the doors off the cabinets so you could put books in them and turn your kitchen into a library.”
“Now, Mother, you know I cook. Occasionally,” Charlotte protested lamely.
“Of course you do, dear,” Martha said, seeming to take up Charlotte’s defense. “Remember that New Year’s Eve, when you made that casserole? And we all got sick?”
“Then there were the world-famous Mexican sailboats,” Chris said, arching his eyebrows.
“I forbid you to tell that story,” Charlotte said. Her smile contradicted her words.
Jerry piped up, “Some of us want to hear it.”
“And if Chris doesn’t tell it, I will,” Lottie said smugly.
“I was in the second grade. We had just moved into our house. I volunteered Mom to make snacks for my class.” Chris smiled at his mother. “Only I forgot to mention that to her until the morning I was supposed to take them to school. At breakfast, I was all hyper and worried about losing face. So Mom found some of those little sausages you can eat from a can and a bag of triangle-shaped tortilla chips, red ones. She stuck a tortilla chip in each sausage and called them Mexican sailboats.”
Chris stopped to chuckle. “I took the boats to school in a box lid. I was so proud. The other kids brought in cupcakes or cookies. I brought sailboats. The kids loved them, ate every one. One boy’s aunt was on a local cooking show. He badgered her till she called Mom and asked for the recipe for Mexican sailboats!”
“I had forgotten the cooking show part,” Charlotte laughed. “That poor woman almost fainted when I told her the sailboat ingredients.”
“Why didn’t you ship me off to the foreign legion right then?” Chris teased.
Charlotte responded quickly. “I thought about it. But you were so cute.” She paused for effect and added, “Back then.”
“Besides,” Chris countered, “you would have had to explain my disappearance to Grandma.”
“Timing is everything.” Lottie looked over the rim of her glasses. “That day, I might have taken up for you. The time you painted my garage door purple, you’re just lucky I didn’t get my hands on you.”
“It was a great, bright color, like on the Saturday morning cartoons. I thought it would be a terrific idea to paint the car that color, but the garage was shut, so I painted the door.”
“You and PawPaw would have had to hide out in the park for a week instead of an afternoon if you’d painted my sedan. Good thing for you he saw that door before I did.”
After more stories and laughing, Jerry said, “I hate to break up the party, but I have to get my beauty rest. I’ll be happy to see you ladies home if you like,” he offered, nodding toward Martha and Lottie. “Sounds like we live in the same general direction.”
Lottie spoke up immediately. “That would be ever so nice of you, Jerry. Thank you for a wonderful evening, Rich.”
“Yes, this was so thoughtful,” Charlotte said. “Chris and I thank you too.”
“It was my pleasure,” Rich said graciously. “We’ll have to do this again.”
Charlotte stood on the front porch with Rich as cars cleared out of the circle driveway. Lottie sat in the back of Jerry’s car and put Martha up front. “There’s nothing Mom likes better than playing Cupid,” she said. “Jerry had better watch his step.”
“He’s a big boy,” Rich replied. “He can take care of himself.”
“We’ll see.” Charlotte faced him. “Thank you again for being nice to my mom, Rich. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”
As she drove away, Charlotte tried to recall the last time she had stood on a front porch in the twilight with an attractive man. Must have been a date. Mark? Did she feel the electricity she sensed this evening standing so close to Rich? She couldn’t remember.
Chris was busily replacing light bulbs when Charlotte entered her house. How tall and handsome he had become. Except for having her eyes, how like Mark he was. The same auburn hair, same slender build. Chris’s sense of humor had to come from somewhere else, though. It was different from hers and Mark had none. More like Daddy’s, she mused.
“Your boyfriend’s a cool dude,” Chris said over his shoulder.
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br /> “Don’t start with me, Christopher James Phillips. Rich is not my boyfriend. I don’t have one. And if I did it wouldn’t be him,” she said firmly.
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” Chris smiled and tossed some spent bulbs in the wastebasket. “Grandma thinks he’s your boyfriend.”
“Let’s think about how many times Grandma has tried to march me down the aisle. Remember the assistant coach she kept scheming to get me together with?”
Chris smiled. “The gay guy? You should have gone out with him—he was fun. Anyway, I like Rich. Nice house, too.”
“Rich can be pleasant company. But there are a lot of things you don’t know about him, Chris. For example, he’s an avowed atheist. And he’s in the process of divorcing his fourth wife.”
“Yeah, old Rita sounds like a stinker,” Chris said, checking another lamp.
Charlotte stared at her son. “How on earth do you know his wife’s name?”
“We waited at least an hour for you to get done at the hospital this evening. Everybody was talking and getting acquainted. Rich entertained us with a few Rita stories.” He kissed her on the cheek. “All the lights work now and all the clocks are set to the right time.”
Chris dragged a laundry bag to the utility room. “I think I’ll do some laundry. It’s a luxury to have a washer and dryer all to myself.” He started a load of clothes. “Would it be all right with you if I go to church with George tomorrow? His praise group needs a trombone. I’ll pack up tonight and leave for College Station after the early service.”
“Of course, son.” Chris would be home for a week at the end of the summer session. She could take him to church with her and show him off then.
He emerged from the utility room and sat on the couch. “Mom, I’d like to bring Amy home with me the next time I come. She could have my bedroom and I’ll sleep here.” He patted the sofa.
“You know your friends are always welcome here,” Charlotte forced herself to say. “You mentioned Amy is a nurse. How old is she?”
“Oh, twenty-six, maybe twenty-seven. Mother, Amy and I are friends. That’s all. Naturally, she wants to come to visit us because I’m such an irresistible babe magnet. But also because her fiancé lives in San Antonio. They’re getting married this fall. They plan to be missionaries.”
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