Yesterday's Embers

by Deborah Raney

  He gave a noncommittal grunt. It really wasn’t any of her business.

  Wren seemed not to notice and continued her lecture. “You know, if you decide to put it off, you can always get married later on. It’s not quite so easy to get out of the opposite decision. Just promise me you’ll pray about it,” she said again. She gave him a smile that said she would be praying.

  “Do you want them here, or would it be easier to come out to my place—our place?” Good grief. He’d finally trained himself to think in singular term, and now he’d need to get used to thinking of his home and possessions in plural terms again. Theirs. His and Mickey’s.

  “Whatever’s easier for you. Maybe they’d like to come here. I only have one room filled for the weekend so far, so Kayeleigh could have a room to herself.”

  He grinned his appreciation and put Wren back in his good graces. Kayeleigh would be thrilled to stay at the inn. Maybe it would help temper her reaction to the news that he was marrying Mickey. He planned to tell the kids tonight. But the prospect sent a shudder of panic through him.

  First he had to tell Mickey that they were on for Friday. The snowball was headed downhill and picking up speed fast. He rose and put a hand on Wren’s shoulder. “Thank you, Wren. I owe you big-time.”

  “You don’t owe me a thing, Douglas. I just want you to be happy. That’s all anybody wants.”

  He chewed on that thought driving into town to work. To be happy. Wren had hit the nail on the head. That’s all he really wanted. He’d lost so much. But when he was with Mickey he felt alive again. Regardless of the doubts Wren Johannsen had planted in his mind this morning, he surely deserved to know love again, to be happy again after all God had required of him.

  And if he didn’t, no one could argue that his children didn’t deserve the love Mickey offered them.

  Kayeleigh was just getting interested in the new reality show when Dad grabbed the remote out of Landon’s hands and switched the TV off. “Listen, guys, everybody come in here. I’ve got something to tell you. On the couch. Come on, everybody. You can watch TV later.”

  “Harley, too, Daddy?” Sarah asked.

  “Harley, too.”

  At that Harley squealed and toddled off to the kitchen.

  “I’ll get her.” Kayeleigh chased the baby down and carried her back to the living room where the twins and Landon sat in a row up on the sofa, as if they were sitting in church.

  She propped the baby between Sarah and Sadie, then perched on the arm of the sofa. Dad sat on the coffee table facing them, one leg propped on the opposite knee. But one look at his face, and Kayeleigh’s heart stopped. He had the same serious expression he’d worn Thanksgiving Day…when he’d sat them down like this at Grandma’s to tell them Mom and Rachel had died.

  Kayeleigh wrapped her arms around herself and tried to keep her knees from trembling.

  But everybody she loved was here. She sucked in a breath. Had something happened to Grandma Thomas? Or Seth? Had something happened to Seth Berger? But no, Dad didn’t even know about her and Seth, and even if he had, he wouldn’t call the other kids together for something like that.

  Dad scooted back on the coffee table and cocked his head, his serious expression changing into a smile. Kayeleigh breathed a little easier at that. He almost looked embarrassed…like that time when Mom caught him eating the cookies she’d baked for Vacation Bible School. They’d gotten in a big fight about it. She overheard and came into the kitchen where Mom was chewing Dad out and he was trying to apologize, but she wasn’t forgiving him. It had taken all of Kayeleigh’s courage, but she finally shouted to get their attention. “You guys! Does it make a whole lot of sense to be fighting about Bible school?”

  For some reason, that had cracked them both up, and the next thing she knew, they were doubled over laughing, and then in each other’s arms hugging and kissing like the fight had never happened. And like they’d forgotten she was even in the room.

  The memory made her feel warm inside.

  “I’ve got some news to tell you guys,” Dad said, snapping her back to the present. “Good news.”

  She straightened and leaned forward. Maybe Bindy was going to have puppies again! But no, that couldn’t be it. Dad had taken her to the vet after the last batch, because Mom said they could barely afford to feed their kids, without having puppies to buy food for, too.

  “Miss Valdez—” Dad cleared his throat. “Miss Mickey and I are engaged.”

  The clock on the wall ticked into the silence as the kids looked at each other.

  Finally Sadie turned to Dad, her forehead wrinkled. “You mean engaged…like you’re gonna get married?”

  Landon poked her with an elbow. “What’d you think, dummy?”

  Dad didn’t even yell at Landon for calling his sister a dummy. Instead he smiled really big. “That’s right. We’re getting married.”

  Kayeleigh’s breath caught. She could barely wrap her brain around engaged. But married?

  “In fact,” Dad said, sounding all happy, “we’re getting married this Friday. Mickey’s going to come and live here and be…”

  No way! He couldn’t be serious.

  Dad looked at her, then, and she somehow knew that he’d been about to say, “and be your mom.” But he let his words trail off. It was a good thing, too, or she would have slapped him. Hard. Right across the face.

  Sarah and Sadie started bouncing up and down on the sofa cushions, and Harley laughed and clapped her hands together. The baby couldn’t understand what Dad had said. And the twins were just excited because they liked Miss Valdez. They didn’t understand what it meant. That their teacher would be with Dad…the way Mom was.

  She hugged herself tighter, her stomach churning. Her breath wouldn’t come, and she clutched the upholstery of the sofa arm, praying for courage. “You’re not…serious?” she finally managed to squeak out.

  “Of course I am, Kaye.”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  Dad looked like he didn’t even realize he’d called her by Mom’s name. He did it all the time lately.

  “What about Mom?”

  “Kayeleigh…” He reached to touch her knee.

  She recoiled and shoved his hand away. “You don’t even care!”

  “What are you talking about?” He crossed his arms over his chest like he did when she was in trouble. But his voice was soft. “Of course I care, Kayeleigh. I wouldn’t be talking to you about this if I didn’t care.”

  She didn’t know what that had to do with anything.

  Beside her, Sadie jumped off the couch, still grinning like an idiot. “Is Miss Valdez gonna have a wedding dress like Mama’s?”

  Kayeleigh pushed her down to the sofa. The chain reaction caused Harley to flop over onto Sarah’s lap.

  “Hey…!”

  “Shut up, Sadie.” Kayeleigh tried hard to keep the tears from her voice. “Don’t you get it? Dad’s betraying her!”

  “Kayeleigh. Why would you say something like that?” Dad got a hurt look in his eyes.

  She looked away.

  “Kayeleigh? Honey, look at me.”

  She glanced up, just enough to keep from getting in trouble, then planted her eyes in her lap.

  Dad patted her knee gently and spoke in a whisper. “I loved your mother more than you will ever know. She was—” His voice broke.

  Kayeleigh’s heart broke with it.

  Dad put a finger under her chin and lifted it until she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “Honey, there will never be anyone like your mom. No one can ever, ever take her place. But…she’s gone. And we have to go on with our lives.”

  Kayeleigh tried to swallow, but it felt like there was a butcher knife lodged in her throat. “You’re betraying Mom.” Her voice came out in a monotone. “You’re betraying all of us.”

  “What’s that? Be-train?” Sarah juggled Harley into her lap.

  “Nobody is betraying anybody.” Dad’s voice turned hard now, and his glare pinned her to
the spot. “And I don’t want to hear any more talk like that.”

  She slid off the arm of the sofa and swept past him, jaw clenched as she scrambled up the stairs to her room. She didn’t care what the Bible said. She would never forgive him as long as she lived. Never.

  On his wedding night he wept for all he’d lost.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  I, Michaela, take you, Douglas, to be my husband.” Mickey looked up into Doug’s eyes, her voice echoing in the dim courtroom. “To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer, or for poorer—”

  Doug winked at her on the word poorer, and she almost snickered. Avoiding his eyes, she stared into the empty gallery over his shoulder and finished making the same promise to him that he’d made to her. “In all that life brings our way, before God and man, I promise to love only you as long as we both shall live.”

  As of this day, she had an anniversary to celebrate. April 27. It would be a day marked in red on her calendar—their calendar—for the rest of her life.

  The judge, who could’ve easily passed herself off as a college coed, turned to Doug. “You have rings to exchange?” She asked it the way she might have asked if he had change for a dollar.

  He nodded and fished in the pocket of his suit coat for Mickey’s wedding band. They’d had the rings sized and had only picked them up on the way to the courthouse this afternoon. Mickey ran her finger over the diamond engagement ring she’d been wearing for all of an hour.

  Doug came up with both wedding bands and pressed his ring into Mickey’s palm.

  “You first.” The judge nodded at Doug. “You may place the ring on her finger.”

  Mickey tried to keep her hand from shaking while Doug worked the plain wedding band over her knuckles. She’d treated herself to a manicure yesterday. But no amount of nail polish or hand cream could camouflage hands that were work-worn from constant washing at the daycare, not to mention the garden dirt she was sure had worked itself into her very pores.

  Doug didn’t seem to notice. She could feel his emotion as the thin silver band slipped over her knuckles and into place. She fiddled with her engagement ring, residing for now on her right ring finger.

  Doug wrapped his hands around hers. She swallowed hard and took the plain matching band of silver they’d picked out for him on Saturday. She slid it onto his left ring finger, letting her hand rest on his for a long moment.

  Doug clasped her hands again, and they stood there, waiting for Judge Rickard to read the little blurb they’d found online about the rings.

  The judge cleared her throat and slipped the sheet of paper from the thin manual she held. “The wedding ring is an outward, visible symbol of the unbroken circle of love.” She read the words with all the emotion she might use for a legal brief. “It signifies to the world that this man and this woman have pledged their loyalty to one another before God. Wear these rings in remembrance of one another and in respect for the covenant of marriage.”

  The young woman turned a page in the manual and froze. She leafed back through the booklet, confusion shadowing her face. After more page turning, she shrugged and gave them a sheepish smile. “Oops. Looks like the vows were supposed to come before the rings. No big deal. I think we’re still legal.”

  Doug looked at Mickey, a silent apology written on his face.

  But the judge’s voice warmed, and she found a smile for them before asking the age-old question of each. “Do you take this man (this woman)? To be your husband (to be your wife)?”

  “I do,” Mickey said.

  “I do,” Doug echoed, his eyes swimming.

  And for that one moment, everything about this day felt right.

  Their hotel was at the edge of town, with traffic from I-70 zooming by the overpass above. The room Doug had reserved was at the end of the narrow hallway. When he unlocked the door for Mickey, the stench of stale cigarette smoke and dirty socks hit her in the face. She breathed through her mouth and went to try to open a window while Doug double-locked the doors.

  She was fumbling with the controls on the heating and cooling unit when she felt his arms on her shoulders. “Hey, Mrs. DeVore…”

  Ever since they’d picked out the rings last Saturday, she’d practiced writing her new name—Michaela DeVore—in a fancy, flowing script. But somehow, hearing him call her that now startled her. She was a Mrs. now. Mrs. Douglas DeVore. Mickey DeVore. In her thoughts the name fit awkwardly, like a jacket she’d borrowed from someone else.

  “Come here, you.” Doug pulled her toward him, his voice husky. “I love you. You know that?”

  She straightened and turned into him, nodding against his chest. She hadn’t expected to be so nervous about this night. She was thirty years old. She’d read plenty of books and magazine articles, talked with her married girlfriends about this part of marriage. Since that first passionate kiss, Doug made no secret about his desire for her. But he’d respected her desire to save herself. For him.

  But now that the moment was here, she felt shy and unsure of herself.

  He seemed to sense her tension and rubbed slow circles on her back, through the fabric of her silk shirt. He kissed her hair, murmured in her ear. She could feel the desire, the urgency in his caresses. What if she was a disappointment to him? What if…things didn’t work the way they were supposed to?

  She thought of the brief ceremony this afternoon and how different it had been from what she’d dreamed of. Since she was a little girl, she’d wanted to wear a big white dress and have five bridesmaids and a church full of people. Instead, she’d worn an ordinary black skirt and this cream-colored silk shirt. She’d only worn it for a few hours…and now Doug was fumbling with the top button.

  She pulled away. “I—let me go wash up.” She reached for her overnight bag. “I’ll be right back.”

  He smiled and slid his hands down her arms. “I’ll be here.”

  In the bathroom she inspected her face in the mirror. Her makeup had faded, and dark circles smudged the crescents under her eyes. Her hair had turned into a frizzled mop. She would make him turn the lights off before—

  She unzipped her makeup case, retrieved her toothbrush, and turned on the faucet. The water ran hot, steaming up the mirror. She brushed her teeth until she was afraid her gums would bleed. Finally she couldn’t stall any longer.

  Stepping out of her clothes, she averted her eyes from the mirror and hurriedly slipped into the honeymoon negligee she’d bought at Walmart last week. Risking one quick glimpse at her image through the haze of steam, she turned off the bathroom light, took a shallow breath, and opened the door.

  The room was dark, lit only by the dim glow of the lamp by the door. Doug was sitting on the edge of the bed, forearms resting on his knees. He took one look at her and crossed the room to take her in his arms. “Are you okay?”

  She took a wavering breath and buried her face in his shoulder. “I…I’m scared to death.” The tears came and she couldn’t seem to hold them back. “You…this isn’t new for you.”

  “No. Not in one way.” He tightened his arms around her. “But it’s new with you.”

  “What if I don’t know…what to do?”

  “You’ll know.” She heard the tender smile in his voice.

  But he’d been with a woman who’d had years to learn how to make him happy. How could he help but compare her to Kaye? And how could she not come up short? Kaye had been so vivacious, had always seemed so self-confident.

  He put a hand on top of her head and tipped it back, seeking her eyes.

  She locked her gaze with his, holding on for dear life.

  He captured her hand in his. Asking permission with his eyes, he led her to the other side of the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress, and he knelt in front of her.

  “It’s okay, babe,” he whispered. “We’ll go slow. I promise. We’ll take as much time as you need. We have a lifetime to figure it out. Together.”

  Sunlight seeped through the crevice between t
he halves of the heavy hotel draperies. Doug threw his arm over the womanly form breathing softly beside him. He pulled her close and pressed his forehead against her back. Only half awake, he grasped at the memories playing through his mind like a jerky movie trailer. There was Kaye, smiling her million-dollar smile, trying to tell him something. But her laughter was drowned out by the dispassionate voice of a female judge. “By the authority vested in me in the State of Kansas, I pronounce that you are man and wife.”

  He started and rolled over, then sat up in bed, squinting through the darkness to read the numbers on the digital clock on the hotel nightstand. Seven fifty-four. Beside him in the bed Mickey’s dark hair floated over the white pillowcase in waves. He shook his head, trying to clear the disturbing dream.

  He was married. Again. He’d been given a new chance at happiness. But last night had been a shaky start to his life with Mickey Valdez. She’d been like a frightened child. Her apprehension, and the gift she offered him, touched him deeply, and he’d found it easy to be patient with her. She warmed to his kisses, and the love they made was sweet and gentle. Like his first time with Kaye.

  When they finished, with Mickey sleeping in his arms, unexpected tears had come. Tears for Kaye. He missed her so desperately in that moment. And he could never share with Mickey how he’d longed for his wife—for Kaye—even while holding his new bride in his arms.

  On his wedding night, he wept for all he’d lost. For Rachel, and for the life that had been stolen from him.

  He wept because, no matter how hard he wished it so, Mickey was not—and never would be—Kaye.

  God had given her exactly what she’d always dreamed of. So why did she feel so ambivalent?

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Mickey pressed the doorbell again, then clasped her hands together, trying to rehearse a speech she hadn’t yet written in her mind.