I Know the Plans

by Melissa Wardwell

  “I don’t know. Are you going with him?”

  The fact that he thought she might irked her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Are you going with the guy with the hair?”

  “You mean Ryder? No. I have a doctor’s appointment.”

  She was amazed at how quick his features changed from aloofness to concern. Brad shot up from his seat, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  His worry for her, no matter how momentary, touched her. “I’ll be okay.”

  She struggled as she contemplated telling him that it was to discuss a long overdue hysterectomy, but the fact that he had no idea about their life before, left her second guessing. Maybe she will share with him after she talked to the doctor, that way she had all the answers to what ever questions he might have.

  “I might meet Jill and Emma downtown for lunch if you’re okay with that.”

  The smirk crossed his face, “Good. You have been hovering like a mother hen lately. I don’t say anything, but you need to get out once in a while. I don’t care where you go, as long as it isn’t with the punk.”

  How can he change from careless man, to concerned, and back to the snarky jerk before her? It was too much for her to handle. “Whatever. Behave yourself.”

  Tiffany turned on her heel and hiked back to the house and away from the crazy mess known as Brad. She hadn’t walked five feet when he called to her so when she turned to look to him.

  “If you don’t want his attention, don’t wear those jeans when he’s here.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He likes you and you look pretty good in those jeans.”

  She was hoping that he hadn’t noticed Ryder’s attentiveness toward her. She was still trying to figure out what do or say to him about it. Now that it was clear Brad wasn’t oblivious she needed to talk to Ryder soon.

  A smile crept across her face as his last statement played in her mind. He thinks I look good in these jeans.

  Later, at the coffee house, she ordered her chai latte and found a seat at the back corner of the establishment. The leather chair folded around her and the electric fireplace gave her a feeling of home. Considering the place had become her office away from home, it was the perfect place to sit and relax while she weighed the options her doctor gave her. She had a list of appointments for ultrasounds and labs in her purse that she would have to talk to Brad about later. He counted on her still, and he was going to have to do things on his own for a while.

  “You need to have this surgery soon,” her doctor told her. Her body was a ticking time bomb and she was in the final seconds.

  Tiffany leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and did her best to pray. This would mean that the door would be forever closed. Any hope of children would be permanently gone. Brad’s current state only caused the loneliness to pull her deeper. She couldn’t talk to him about it; not that anything said would change the inevitable. To have his compassion and wisdom would be nice right about now.

  Jill and Emma’s laughter echoed off the brick walls as they walked through the door pulling her from her worry. Relief washed over her as girl talk was exactly what she needed at the moment. If she can’t talk to her husband about it, her sister, and friend were the next best thing.

  The pair approached once they received their order.

  “You look like you’ve been run over,” Emma chimed in first.

  “Looks like man trouble to me,” Jill quipped.

  Maybe she would have been better off back at the house.

  “More like a lot on my mind plus man trouble. This is not the life I planned on.”

  “Life never goes according to our plans. Sometimes things work out in perfect harmony. Other times our plans fail to match up with God’s. Either way, we just need to trust His plans for us because even though times can be tough, He wants what is best for us.” Emma, the wise one, stated.

  “I sure didn’t think I would be a widow and a single mother at such a young age,” Jill chimed in. “And never had I imagined Mike would come strolling back into my life, bringing his niece along with him; not to mention getting remarried. None of this was planned, none of it. You know how content I was with the dance studio and just having Katie with me.”

  “I’m not so sure you were content,” Emma teased.

  A rose hue blossomed on Jill’s cheeks as her eyes began to twinkle, “I suppose you’re right. I can’t believe the blessing having Mike and Emily in our lives has become.”

  Tiffany half listened to the giddy conversion between Jill and Emma. Wedding plans and teasing about a bachelorette party surrounded her. In a few months, Jill’s family of two would become a family of four with just a two simple words. Tiffany put a smile on her face while they chatted, but all she really wanted was to slide out the door. She wanted to go where she didn’t have to plaster on a fake smile; where she could scream at the cruelty of her life without looking like a crazy woman. Maybe this meeting wasn’t a good idea after all.

  The roar of a passing motorcycle stirred images of her and Brad weaving back and forth through the back roads in tandem. The ache in their backs only meant they enjoyed the time they spent together, alone.

  The thought caused pressure built behind her eyes, her throat tightened, and she caught her breath. She would give anything for this cup of heartache to pass.

  “Hey, earth to Tiffany. You listening, girl?” Emma waved her hand in front of Tiffany’s face, waking her from memory’s spell while she discreetly checked for dampness on her face.

  “Yeah, sorry. What did I miss?”

  “Jill was just saying her sister is back in town now.”

  “That’s great,” Tiffany did her best to give a genuine smile and a hint of excitement in her voice. The downcast look on Jill’s face told her not to bother. “Isn’t it?”

  Julie, Jill’s much younger sister, was a proverbial thorn in Jill’s side. Where Jill had it together, Julie would fall apart and had no issue making Jill feel bad about it. At least she tried.

  “It is good, it just adds to the stress I am already under.”

  “You do know you don’t have to babysit her. She is an adult now,” Emma instructed.

  “Yes, Emma, I know this. But I am the one she runs to when life, or the boyfriend, beats on her. I want her here for the wedding, I just want everything to go smooth and I don’t want her to disappear again.”

  An idea formed, “What if she had something to be responsible for? I could really use help with some landscaping. I do not have a green thumb, I kill silk flowers. She could help Ryder this week. He goes on tour soon and I’ll need a replacement. Plus, I have so much to do with Brad’s appointments and a few of my own. Look, I could really use the extra help.”

  Tiffany wasn’t sure where the idea came from. In fact, the landscape was tolerable, but it could always use some improvements.

  “That is a great idea, Tiff.” Emma injected with a little too much enthusiasm.

  It was an idea all right; whether or not it was great was yet to be seen. Having someone else around would be good. Someone who would help with the simple things around the house, and maybe be a distraction to Ryder. Lord, knows his gazes were getting more intense and Brad was not having it.

  Now she had to figure out how she was going to handle her doctor’s prognosis and figure out if she should even bring Brad into it. She knew it would be the respectful thing to do because, memory or not, he was still her husband.

  The women finished their drinks and went their separate ways. Tiffany climbed into her truck and rolled down her windows. The weight of all the choices and decisions set heavy on her shoulders. She couldn’t bear it all alone. She didn’t know how, let alone know what to do.

  “Lord, show me what to do, how to help Julie, how to help Brad. Should I even talk to him? Oh, Lord, give me a sign. I need something to light the way.”

  CHAPTER 12

  THE HEAT OF a fire seared his skin; explosions rang in his
ears, and pain radiated through his body. Nothing he did relieved the agony. He could only endure it. Don’t scream or they will kill you a voice told him. Think of your wife the voice followed. Then a vision of white came to him through the darkness. Her arms spread wide welcoming him to come to her. The pain and noise still surrounded him but her hands in his made it worth bearing. The angel held him close, whispering words of love and hope in his ears only encouraging him to hold on a little longer. He wanted to see her face, but blinding pain denied what he desired. If only he could find the peace needed.

  A doorbell chimed, waking him from his afternoon nap. He didn’t care who it was, talking was not on his list of things to do today; especially with people who knew the old Brad. No, he would rather go back to the arms of his angel. He threw the covers over his head, hoping the person would go away.

  The baritone voice of an intruder called him from the house entrance. “Come on out Brad. I know you’re here.”

  He wasn’t sure who it was, but something about it was familiar.

  “Brad, come on man. I brought cards and some amazing root beer.”

  Having little care about the cards and wanting more to pound the guy for breaking into his nap time, Brad rolled out of the bed and went to the front door, ready to do battle.

  The sight of his crippled brother-in-law leaning on his cane in the middle of the living room subsided his irritation at the intrusion. The couple of times they had interacted gave Brad the idea that the man was trustworthy. He just wished he could recall his name.

  “Hey, um…”

  “Ryan.”

  “Right, Ryan,” Brad repeated the name a few more times in his mind while he approached to shake the hand Ryan extended. “What can I do for ya?”

  “I heard the ladies are out doing girl things, so I thought I would come by. You know, since you hid out in that hole of yours the other day.”

  “Tiffany said they were dress shopping today. Come on in.” Brad took the case of root beer and waved him to the dining room.

  Until he knew what to do with his life, he might as well get to know the people around him.

  A knot formed in his throat as he searched for some indication on what to do next. There had never been a guest in the house without her there to do the talking and serving. What would she do? Offer to make coffee? Did he know how to do that? Maybe there was tea in the refrigerator? For the first time, he missed his angel being nearby.

  “Hey, don’t stress, man. How about some ice and glasses?” Ryan suggested.

  Brad let out the breath and went to work in the kitchen. “That obvious, huh?”

  “You did get a look on your face.” Ryan’s chuckle released the tension a little more.

  “Sorry about that. This is the first time I’ve been here alone.”

  “Yeah, Emma said she was wondering when the mother hen would fly the nest for a bit longer than an hour or so.”

  “Funny, I called her mother hen earlier today.”

  He watched as Ryan’s scarred hand and healthy hand shuffled the cards. He was mesmerized by the possible story behind the scars as well as how to shuffle like he was. Watching the rhythm he created was calming.

  “That is my sister for ya. She has a way of setting you on your ear with a look. I think she got it from our mom.”

  “She does it to you too?” Brad’s ear perked up a little more at the opportunity to learn about her.

  “When she discovered I was back in the area after being gone for so long, she had no qualms about telling me how much of a coward I was being.”

  “Okay, you have my attention. What happened?”

  Ryan dealt the cards like he knew what he was doing. Brad froze, “Wait, what are we playing?”

  “Oh, right. I almost forgot, the memory thing. This was how we talked before; over a game of cards, typically rummy or poker. Do you remember either of those? Or we can just chat if you’re more comfortable with that.”

  He searched the broken memory banks. Card faces came to mind. “I’ve got nothing.”

  “Let’s start at the basics then. Can you count?”

  Brad knew that for sure, “Yes. I can recall most basic things, just not faces, names, and places.”

  “Okay, Go Fish it is.” Ryan spent the next minutes explaining the game to him. It seemed easy enough. They played a few hands until Brad felt like he could do it without much thought.

  “So, tell me how your sister told you off.”

  Ryan proceeded to tell him about the night at the bar, how he hid from his family for a year before coming clean, and about the reunion. Brad couldn’t help but agree with Tiffany’s reprimand.

  “That was pretty weak of you, man. Why did you hold out for so long?”

  “Well, when you feel unworthy, you kind of make dumb choices.”

  He rolled Ryan’s words around for a minute as he let the cards in front of him blur together. That was how he had been feeling, unworthy. He felt unworthy of his angel’s care and attention, unworthy of the love that shown in her eyes for him, unworthy of the bed he slept in, her bed. He had kicked her out of her bed. No you fool. She gave up your bed so you could recover.

  “Has Tiff told you how you came into the picture yet?”

  “Briefly. I don’t think she wants to bombard me with details. She said she wants me to remember things on my own.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  Brad waited for the chatty man to finish the thought and tell him the story, but a drawn-out silence filled the room. When his curiosity peaked, he put the cards down with a frustrated force. “Just give me the short version.”

  Ryan laughed and finished his hand. Brad waited with a heightened anticipation. The guy really knew how to drag things out.

  Ryan looked him in the eyes. “You saved my life.”

  It hit him like a wall, stealing the breath from his lungs. “I what?”

  “You met my sister after you pulled my burning body from my truck. You came upon my attempt to strong arm a farm tractor.”

  “That’s one of those big green things I saw in the fields, right?”

  “Correct. I guess you can remember some things.”

  “Yeah, a few. It’s hit and miss. None of it important though. Anyway, tell me a bit more.”

  Ryan proceeded with the story, all the while he searched for any recollections of that first meeting; of pulling this man from a truck. The story explained the scars and limp for sure.

  That’s when a flash hit him, all white and blinding. He didn’t know what he was seeing, but it made his head hurt enough that he squeezed his eyes shut. The white light turned orange. Yelling and screams of pain rang through his head. Through the flashes of light and the screams, a vision of her sitting on a porch swing, curled up with a book and a girl coloring on the steps appeared.

  “Angel,” he whispered.

  “What did you say?” The familiar voice pulled him from the vision. His eyes opened to see Tiffany standing to one side of Ryan and Emma on the other. A lone tear escaped her eyes, leaving a trail down her cheek. He didn’t know what he’d just seen, but it meant something to her.

  “Um, angel?”

  Without a word, she left the room, covering the sobs that caused a sharp pain in his chest. The word hurt her somehow.

  “What did I say? Why is she upset? Should I go talk to her?” Not knowing what to do or how to respond was getting old. He couldn’t keep hurting her like he was.

  “That was your pet name for her,” Ryan’s wife stated.

  “Do I leave her alone, or go to her? I don’t remember what to do.”

  “I would say go. Rule one with women; apologize, even if you don’t know what you did,” Ryan instructed.

  It wasn’t long before he could hear the soft cries coming down the hall from her bedroom. Each sound drove a nail in him; the pain of her tears left him hesitant. He wanted to be indifferent to the pull she had on him, but no matter how hard he tried, she broke through the wall. He co
uldn’t hide from her, and that scared him.

  He reached to knock on her door when he heard her words, “God, it isn’t fair. I can’t do this. I’m not cut out for it. It is too hard to see him every day and not touch him or talk with him like we used to. Lord, I miss being his wife.”

  Her pain reached out and pulled at him. He figured this was hard on her, but the anguish in her words gave a new layer of understanding of her pain. Here he was trying to figure things out while he searched for memories and she sat on the sidelines, alone.

  Brad knocked on her door unsure he wanted to see the tears and pain. Could he even handle seeing her vulnerable and bare?

  “Who is it?” her restrained voice called.

  “It’s me.”

  She didn’t answer right away. The longer she took to respond, the more rapid his heart beat.

  “Tiffany, I can’t apologize through the door. I’ll be quick. I promise.” He hoped his pleading tone didn’t sound too desperate, but something deep within begged to make this right. No matter how many warning bells in his mind told him to keep his distance, there was another part that longed to see her, to comfort her.

  Brad pressed an ear to the door to better hear her reply. Finally she responded, “Come in.”

  Slow and steady, he turned the doorknob and looked around the room before he saw her in the corner. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet, and her hands trembled as she brushed the tears away. At that moment, something in him broke.

  His heavy feet pushed him forward so he could be closer to her. It wasn’t enough though, he had to touch her. He reached for hand, taking a moment to learn the feel of it in his. Brad was surprised to find that all the years of construction work had not hardened her hands. He gently tugged, encouraging her to stand.

  Looking into her dazzling sapphire eyes, he almost forgot the purpose of being in her room. Something about her awakened his senses and lit a spark in his chest. But then, from the corners of his muddled mind, something warned to resist the desire to seek more. The constant war within him was getting old. He needed to push past and do what was right. He hurt the woman who cared for him in so many ways.