Tension banded across his shoulders as memories of being summoned to the principal’s office of Zach’s school flew to mind. He took a deep breath. “Could we maybe talk over a cup of coffee?”
Her mouth opened and shut. She looked down at her watch. “I guess I could spare a few minutes. How about the café upstairs?”
He nodded and followed her into the corridor. An awkward silence descended as they made their way to the outdoor terrace, one of Nathan’s favorite spots. Small iron tables canopied by striped umbrellas overlooked the water below, scented by baskets of hanging geraniums. Other than one other couple, the area was empty at this time of day.
Nathan pulled out a seat for Paige at a table by the low stone wall. Her long hair was loose today and flowed over her shoulders.
After they’d ordered two coffees, he leaned back against the metal chair. “That song you were singing, is it from The Sound of Music?”
She looked up, surprise registering in her clear eyes. “Yes, it is. We’re practicing a shortened version of the play to put on for the parents.”
“You have a beautiful voice.”
Paige looked down and moved her book to one side, a blush staining her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Maybe he was stalling, to keep her from telling him something unpleasant about Zach. Or maybe he wanted to relate to her on a more personal level, instead of as a therapist. Whatever the reason, he wanted to know more about this woman. “Where did you learn to sing like that?”
The waiter arrived and set down their cups with a brief nod to Paige. She picked up a packet of sugar. “Both my parents have musical backgrounds. My father teaches music at the high school in my hometown, and we were all involved in the church choir.” She stirred her coffee, the spoon clinking against the ceramic mug. “Speaking of voices, Zach sings well for his age. Does musical talent run in your family, too?”
Nathan paused to consider her unexpected question. Other than hymns, he hadn’t thought about singing in years. “I used to sing in high school and did a little college theater. In fact, I played the captain in The Sound of Music my senior year.”
“How ironic we picked that particular piece.” Her lips quirked as if she was trying not to laugh.
He had to stop looking at her mouth. He took a long sip of his coffee, enjoying the strong burst of flavor, then set down his cup. “Miss McFarlane—”
“Please, call me Paige.”
“Paige then. What did you want to see me about?”
The amusement left her eyes, replaced with regret. “We had another...incident earlier. Zach got upset over a Bible lesson on forgiveness.”
Nathan frowned. “Why would that upset him?”
A trace of a sigh escaped her lips. “He said you wouldn’t forgive his mother and let her come home.”
The coffee soured in his stomach. He hadn’t realized Zach knew anything about Cynthia’s request to move back home. Or that he’d refused her. That might explain some of Zach’s anger toward him.
He met her curious gaze. “He’s right. Cynthia did want to come back...but I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t take her back on a whim.”
Paige bit her bottom lip, questions brimming in her eyes.
“You’re wondering why she left me.”
She shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure it’s very personal.”
“It is. But it may help with Zach.” He swirled the brown liquid in his mug, choosing his next words with care. “Cynthia got tired of coming second to my career. She couldn’t take my long hours and the constant demands on my time.”
“Sounds like a stressful job. What do you do?”
A nerve twitched in his jaw as a vision of Saint Stephen’s church rushed to mind. He was nowhere near ready to talk about his professional failure. Much too personal, much too painful. “That’s not important. Suffice it to say that Cynthia grew less and less supportive. I knew she was unhappy, but I never thought she’d leave.” His fingers tightened around the mug. Might as well tell her the rest. She’ll find out sooner or later. “The ugly truth is...my wife left me for another man.” The familiar surge of humiliation rose up to swamp him.
A mixture of disbelief and pity flitted across Paige’s face. “I’m so sorry.” She reached out a hand, but pulled it back before she made contact with his arm. “That must have been terrible for you.”
“You have no idea.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Then, after six months of misery, she told me she’d made a mistake and wanted to come home. Apparently her new boyfriend didn’t like being tied down with a child.” He shook his head. “As much as I missed Zach, I couldn’t take the risk of letting her back into my home or my life. I didn’t trust her anymore.” He glanced over to gauge Paige’s reaction. For some reason, it mattered that she understand his point of view.
A small frown creased her forehead. “Of course not. Not after what she put you through. She needed to earn your trust back again.”
His shoulders sagged at the lack of censure in her voice. “Thank you for saying that.” He closed his eyes against the wave of pain. “I only wish I could make myself believe that I did the right thing.”
His lids flew open at the feel of her warm hand on his arm. Compassion shone in her eyes.
“You feel guilty because she died before you could resolve things between you,” she said softly.
The unbearable weight of it crushed his shoulders. If only it were that simple. He swallowed what felt like shards of glass. “I feel guilty,” he said, “because I’m responsible for her death.”
* * *
Paige reeled from the shock of Nathan’s words. How could that be? “I thought your wife died from a brain aneurysm.”
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “The aneurysm happened after I refused Cynthia’s request to reconcile. The doctor said stress was a significant factor in causing the rupture. I might as well have put a gun to her head.” The bitterness in his voice tore at her heart.
She shifted in her chair, leaned in and squeezed his arm. “You’re wrong, Nathan. You can’t take the blame for Cynthia’s bad choices. That type of guilt will eat you alive.” Long-dormant emotions bubbled up like a geyser to flood her senses. She knew all about dealing with guilt. Guilt that ate at your soul and prevented healing.
Nathan barked out a harsh laugh. “Tell me about it.”
For the first time, Paige understood the pain behind his coldness and anger. And the reason he hadn’t been able to be there for his son.
Nathan was emotionally paralyzed.
She knew this, not only from the textbooks she’d studied, but from painful, personal experience. “I understand exactly what you’re going through,” she said softly.
Paige had never told a stranger her story. As painful as it would be to reopen the wound, if it could benefit Nathan and Zach, how could she hold back?
She bit her lip, trying to decide if she had the courage to go through with it. Before she could make up her mind, her cell phone went off. She glanced down at the display from Jerry. “I’m sorry,” she said to Nathan. “They need me down at the water.”
“Of course.” The shuttered look had returned.
Paige rose and gathered her music book. “Thank you for the coffee. Maybe we can continue this conversation another time.” Perhaps then she’d be better prepared to share her story.
Nathan rose, as well. “I’d like that.” Despite his gruffness, he seemed sincere.
She nodded and turned to descend the stone steps. It might have been her imagination, but as she made her way down to the beach, Paige could almost feel him watching her.
Chapter Five
Nathan threw the book of sudoku puzzles onto the coffee table, leaned his head back against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes, wondering exactly when he’d become a hermit
. Holed up in his hotel room with an odd assortment of puzzles for company.
Nathan sighed, trying hard not to think about everyone outside celebrating the Fourth of July with a barbecue, while he ate a cold sandwich on the couch. Alone.
Part of him yearned to join in with the festivities, to forget his anguish for one night, and pretend to be someone other than a washed-up minister with a son who hated him. But no matter where Nathan went, he couldn’t escape his past. Inevitably someone would ask him about his family, or his job. If only he were good at inventing vague answers. Unfortunately, the talent to fabricate stories seemed beyond his skill set.
Memories of past holidays stormed through his mind with the relentless fury of a freight train. Memories of the church picnics in the park, of families playing Frisbee, tag and hide-and-seek, waiting for the annual fireworks display to begin. Memories of happier times with Cynthia when they’d carry a sleeping Zach home to bed and tuck him in together.
Desperate for a distraction, Nathan grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV. If he were lucky, some mindless criminal show would capture his interest until it was late enough to go to bed.
He’d flicked through all the channels when a loud rap at his door startled him. He pressed the mute button and got slowly to his feet, annoyance climbing through him. Probably either George or Catherine, trying to coerce him to come out. His friends meant well, but couldn’t they understand he’d come up here for solitude and quiet?
A second knock, louder this time, echoed in the room.
“Who is it?”
“Paige McFarlane.”
Nathan jolted to his full height. What was she doing here? He flung open the door.
Dressed in her usual Wyndermere polo shirt and jeans, her hair loose around her shoulders, Paige stood poised ready to knock again.
“Is Zach okay?” he practically barked at her.
“He’s fine.” Her citrus scent swirled around him, irritating his already foul mood even further.
“Then why are you here?” Maybe if he was rude enough, she’d leave him be.
Instead, she hiked her chin, green eyes flashing. “I wondered why you weren’t attending the celebration with everyone else.”
“I have a headache.” That was partially true. He rubbed his fingers over his temple in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing.
“Well, swallow some aspirin and get your shoes. You’re coming to the fireworks display.”
Nathan crossed his arms over his chest and simply stared. The withering look usually worked on Zach. He hoped it would have the same effect on her.
She crossed her arms, mirroring his stance, and waited.
He jerked his head toward the still-open door. “You might as well leave. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Zach needs to see you attempting to live a normal life. How do you expect him to move on when you bury your head in the sand like this?” She marched into the room, picked up the plate with half an uneaten sandwich on it and jabbed it toward him. “Is this your dinner? That’s pathetic when there are ribs and hamburgers outside.”
His temper ignited. He strode toward her and yanked the plate from her fingers. “What I eat or don’t eat is none of your business.”
She snatched the remote and pressed the power button.
“I was watching that.”
“Not anymore. Where are your shoes? And you might need a jacket if it gets cool later.”
“I am not six years old—”
“Then start acting like it.” She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him.
Nathan opened his mouth, then clamped his lips together, unsure what might come out. Something unministerial, that’s for sure.
“Look, Nathan. Almost all the parents are out there sharing the holiday with their children. What message are you sending Zach by staying in here?”
“That I don’t like crowds?”
“Wrong. That you don’t like him.”
Her words reverberated off the walls around him, shaming him with their truth. All the resentment drained out of him, and he sagged onto the nearest chair. He did not deserve to be a parent. He couldn’t function at all, not for himself, not even for Zach.
The warmth of a hand on his arm made him raise his head. “You can do this, Nathan. For Zach’s sake. He needs to see you there, even if you only say two words to him. Just knowing you’re there will mean everything to him.”
The compassion swirling in the depth of her eyes mesmerized him. More than anything he needed a lifeline. Maybe Paige McFarlane could be his.
She took his hand and tugged him to his feet. “Come on. I’ll walk down with you.”
* * *
When all the kids were seated on the lawn and the fireworks had finally started, Paige made her way over to the picnic table where Nathan was sitting. Her heart swelled with sympathy. The poor guy looked as if he was at a funeral instead of a party. Still, he’d spent a few minutes with his son, before Zach and Peter had run off to join a game of hide-and-seek with the other campers. But Paige didn’t miss the relief on Zach’s face when he first saw his father.
She hopped up onto the table top to sit beside Nathan. “You doing okay?”
“Fine.”
He didn’t sound fine. Not one little bit. A thought hit Paige. Perhaps this holiday had special meaning for him and his wife. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?
“Is this day bringing up sad memories?” she asked quietly.
Nathan stiffened beside her. “How did you know?”
“Not hard to figure out. Holidays, birthdays, anniversaries...they’re all tough dates to get through.” She clasped her hands on her lap. “I usually try to do something different to change the significance of the date.” Like going rock climbing on the day she should have been married. “Hard to change Independence Day though.” She gave him a smile, hoping to lighten his mood.
He shifted on the wooden surface to look at her. “So you lost someone close to you?”
She swallowed, then turned to meet his questioning gaze. “I did.”
“A parent?”
She looked away, wishing she could deny God’s gentle nudging to share her grief. If her story could help Nathan in some small way, she had no choice but to share it. “No. My fiancé.”
She felt him stiffen. “I’m so sorry. That must have been difficult.”
The laugher of children drifted by them, a direct contradiction to the seriousness of their conversation.
“You have no idea.” She gripped her fingers together, steeling herself for the onslaught of pain. “Colin was killed in a car accident—three weeks before our intended wedding day.”
He sucked in a breath. “How awful. When did this happen?”
“Almost four years ago now. But sometimes it feels like yesterday.” She blinked to keep any tears from forming. “At the time I believed Colin’s accident was all my fault.”
Nathan reached over and covered her hands with his own. She started at the warm strength of his fingers.
“What happened?” he asked quietly after several moments.
She hesitated, praying she could do this without falling apart. “I hadn’t seen Colin in days. He’d been working on his thesis nonstop to finish before the wedding. I knew he was exhausted, but I was feeling sorry for myself, overwhelmed with wedding preparations. I begged him to come over.” She drew in a ragged breath. “The police couldn’t say for sure what happened, except they found his car wrapped around a telephone pole—with Colin dead at the scene.”
A round of fireworks exploded in the air with a burst of color. Paige squeezed her eyes shut. Terrible visions of the past rose in her imagination. The flashing lights at the site of the accident when she arrived, the police officer’s grim expression, the smell of the rain as
it hit the pavement. With supreme effort, she dragged herself back to the present, to the feel of her hands captured in Nathan’s strong, warm ones. She swallowed hard several times to push back the tears. “Like you with your wife, I blamed myself for his death. If I hadn’t been so selfish, making him come out in the bad weather, he would still be alive. The guilt paralyzed me for months.”
“How did you get past it?” Desperation laced his voice as tightly as his fingers squeezed her hand.
She focused her gaze on the small spray of dark hairs covering the back of his wrist. “My parents found me a wonderful therapist who saved my sanity. Gradually I realized the only way I could move forward was to forgive myself.”
A starburst of red split the sky. “Were you really able to do that?” He sounded awestruck, as though she’d discovered a cure to the world’s problems.
Paige took a breath. “For the most part. After a lot of therapy and a lot of prayer.” She turned to look at him, and the anguish in Nathan’s eyes struck a chord deep within her. She remembered that pain all too well—the remnants of it still haunted her. “I learned that you can’t live your life with constant regret. Horrible things happen sometimes, and there’s nothing we can do, except pray for the strength to get through them.”
He released a long breath. “I’ll have to take your word for it. Maybe someday I’ll learn how to do that.”
For a moment their gazes locked, fused by the common thread of pain they shared. A final burst of fireworks shook the night, followed by wild applause and whistling. Nathan cleared his throat and slowly removed his hand from hers.
The noise of the kids’ hollers tore Paige’s attention back to the present, and she hopped down from her perch. Zach, Peter and Kyle flew up the grass toward them, wild warlike whoops erupting from them. Maybe it was a result of sharing such an emotional story, but Paige’s eyes stung with sudden tears at the sight of Zach laughing with the other boys.
He skidded to a halt in front of Nathan. “Hey, Dad. Weren’t those fireworks cool?”
Nathan nodded. “Absolutely. I’m glad I came.”
Healing the Widower's Heart Page 5