Neighborly Thing

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  He gave her a crooked smile. “How about, ‘Yes, I’d be happy to marry you?’ ”

  She studied his handsome face, but before she could open her mouth to respond, there was a high-pitched scream, followed by, “Dad, you can’t marry Sinda!”

  Sinda and Glen both turned to face Tara. Her face was bright red, and her eyes were mere slits. “Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t marry her?” Glen asked.

  Tara marched across the room and stopped in front of her father. “Yes, I can.”

  Sinda knelt next to Tara. “Listen, Tara, I—”

  “Dad’s gotten along fine without a wife for nine whole years, and he doesn’t need one now,” Tara shouted. “Especially not some sleepwalking, doll-collecting weirdo!”

  A muscle in Glen’s jaw quivered. “Tara Mae Olsen, you apologize to Sinda this minute!”

  “It’s okay, Glen,” Sinda said, standing up again. “She needs more time.”

  Tara stomped her foot. “I don’t need more time. I do not want a mother, and Dad doesn’t need a wife!” She pivoted on her heel and bolted for the hall door, slamming it with such force that the Welcome plaque fell off the wall and toppled to the floor.

  Glen cleared his throat. “That sure went well.”

  Sinda’s eyes filled with unwanted tears. “We’d better face the facts, Glen. It’s not going to work for us. Tara isn’t going to accept me.”

  He shrugged. “I think she’s simply jealous. I’m sure she’ll calm down and listen to reason.”

  Sinda dropped her gaze to the floor. “What if that never happens?”

  He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, but she could see a look of defeat written on his face. “Guess I’ll have to deal with it.”

  “Sorry about the barbecue being ruined, but I think I’d better go home so you can get things straightened out with Tara.”

  “I’ll talk to her and try to help her understand.”

  Sinda blinked back her tears of frustration. She doubted that anything Glen had to say would penetrate Tara’s wall of defense. She hated to admit it, but there was no future for her and Glen Olsen. Just when she’d made peace with God and had begun to trust, the rug was being yanked out from under her. Would she ever know real joy? Was it even possible to experience the kind of love God planned for a man and a woman?

  Twenty-two

  Glen found Tara in her room, lying across the bed, crying as if her heart were breaking. He approached her slowly. “Tara, I need you to listen to me.”

  “Go away.”

  “I’m in love with Sinda. Won’t you try to understand?” He took a seat on the edge of her bed and reached out to gently touch her back.

  She jerked away. “Do you love her more than me?”

  “Of course not. I love her in a different way, that’s all.” Glen sighed deeply. “It’s been nine years since your mother died, and—”

  Tara sat up suddenly. “Did you love her?”

  “Connie?”

  Her only reply was a curt nod.

  “Of course I loved her. When she died, I thought I’d never recover, but God was good, and He filled my life with you.”

  She sniffed deeply. “Then how come I’m not enough for you now?”

  Several seconds passed, as Glen tried to come up with an answer that might make sense to his distraught daughter. “God’s plan was for a man to have a wife,” he said softly. “I’ve waited a long time to find someone I could love enough to want for my wife.”

  Tara jumped up and stalked over to the window. She stood there, looking out at Sinda’s house. “If you marry her, it’ll never be the same.”

  “Tara, I know—”

  She reeled around to face him. “I could never love Sinda.”

  How could he choose between Sinda and his daughter? He was in love with Sinda, but Tara was his only child. Until Tara calmed down and they worked through her jealousy, he’d have to keep Sinda Shull at arm’s length. He hoped she would understand, but could he ask her to wait?

  ❧

  Sinda moped around the house for the next several weeks, unable to get much work done or even fix a decent meal. She’d heard from Carol, with news that she and Phil had gone bowling. This should have brought her joy, since it obviously meant Phil’s interest had shifted from her to Carol. However, Glen had called too, informing her that he’d tried to reason with Tara, but it was to no avail. The child wouldn’t accept the prospect of their marriage. Sinda understood, but the question foremost on her mind was what to do with the rest of her life. Even though Glen had tried to convince her that Tara would come around someday, she knew in her heart that their romance was over.

  As she stood there staring out the living room window, Sinda caught a glimpse of the man she loved leaving for his mail route. She’d never meant to fall in love, and every encounter with Glen was something she both dreaded and anticipated. How could she stand seeing him like this, knowing they had no future together? Each time they met and uttered a casual greeting, a part of her heart crumbled a bit more. Sinda wanted to jerk the front door open and call out to Glen, but she knew it would be a mistake. She couldn’t live here any longer, hoping, praying things would change. She wasn’t growing younger, and she had no desire to wait around until Tara matured.

  “The best thing I can do is move out of this house and get as far away from Elmwood, Oregon, as possible,” she muttered. As soon as she had some breakfast, Sinda planned to phone the Realtor. No point putting off until tomorrow what you can do today. Her father’s favorite expression rang in her ears. This time, however, she would do it because it was the only way, not because it was something Dad would have expected.

  It was nearly noon when Sinda called the Realtor’s office, but she was informed that the Realtor who’d sold her the house was on vacation and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. Sinda could either call someone else or wait.

  “Guess a few more weeks won’t matter,” she muttered as she hung up the phone. “It will give me a chance to spruce the place up a bit so it looks more appealing to any prospective buyers.”

  Sinda left the kitchen and went out front to do some weeding. The flower beds were in terrible shape, and she knew a thorough going over should help. Dropping to her knees, with a shovel in her hand, Sinda filled her mind with determination. She glanced up when she heard laughter. Tara and her friend Penny were skateboarding on the sidewalk in front of her place. They had made some kind of crazy ramp out of plywood and a bucket. Penny waved, but Tara didn’t even look her way.

  A pang of regret stabbed Sinda’s heart as she was reminded of how much she had lost. Not only had she been forced to give Glen up, but she’d been cheated out of having a stepdaughter. If only she and Tara could have become friends.

  Sinda thrust the shovel into the damp soil, forcing her thoughts back to the job at hand. It would do no good to think about the what-ifs.

  A verse of Scripture she’d read that morning popped into her mind, and she recited it. “ ‘And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose,’ Romans 8:28.” Surely God had something good planned for her. It simply wasn’t going to be here, in this neighborhood, in the town where Glen Olsen lived. She’d have to move on with her life, even if it meant going back to Seattle, where she was born and raised.

  Another thought came to mind. If she did go home, maybe she could discover the whereabouts of her mother. Perhaps she was still living in Seattle. Sinda knew she was grasping at straws, but in her present condition, she needed something to hang on to.

  She grabbed a handful of weeds and gave them a yank. It felt good to take her frustrations out on the neglected flower bed. Half an hour later, she’d finished up one bed and was about to move to another when she heard a scream.

  Her head snapped up. Sparky, who’d been lying peacefully at her side, ran toward the fence, barking frantically.

  Sinda scrambled to her feet and followed the dog. She was sur
prised to see Tara sprawled on the sidewalk. Her skateboard was tipped on its side, a few feet away.

  With no hesitation, Sinda jerked the gate open and hurried down the steps. Tara’s friend Penny was standing over Tara, sobbing hysterically. “I only gave her a little push down the ramp, and I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

  Sinda moved Penny gently aside and knelt next to Tara. Her eyes were shut, and she was moaning. “What is it, Tara? Where are you hurt?” She couldn’t see any blood, yet it was obvious from the agonized expression on the young girl’s face that she was in a great deal of pain.

  When Tara spoke, her words came out in a whisper. “My head. . .my arm. . .they hurt.” She opened her eyes, then squeezed them shut again.

  Sinda’s mouth went dry. One look at the girl’s swollen, distorted-looking wrist told her it was most likely broken. She knew how to put broken dolls back together, but she didn’t know the first thing about giving first aid to an injured child. Sinda looked up at Penny, who was still whimpering. “Penny, go tell Tara’s baby-sitter to call 9-1-1. Tell her I think Tara has a broken arm and could have a concussion.”

  “Tara’s staying at my house this week while her dad’s at work.”

  “Then ask your mother to call for help.”

  Penny muttered something about it being all her fault, then she bolted across the street. Sinda leaned closer to Tara. “It’s going to be okay. The paramedics will be here soon.”

  “Don’t leave me,” Tara wailed. “Please don’t go.”

  An onslaught of tears rolled down the child’s pale cheek, and Sinda wiped them away. “I won’t leave you, Honey, I promise.”

  ❧

  As Sinda began to pace the length of the hospital waiting room, the numbness she’d felt earlier began to wear off. Penny’s mother offered to call the post office to see if they could track Glen down, and Sinda had been allowed to ride with Tara in the ambulance. Once Glen arrived, Sinda had taken a seat in the waiting room.

  She had just picked up a magazine when a nurse stepped to her side. “Are you Tara Olsen’s baby-sitter?”

  “I’m their next-door neighbor. Why do you ask?”

  “Tara asked me to come get you,” the nurse said. “She wants both you and her dad to be there when the doctor sets the bone.”

  The room began to spin, and Sinda closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to right her world again.

  “The X-rays confirmed she broke her wrist,” the nurse explained.

  “Does she have a concussion?”

  The nurse shook her head. “She’s one lucky girl. I’ve seen some skateboard accidents that left the victim in much worse shape. Kids sure don’t know the meaning of the word careful.” She patted Sinda’s arm in a motherly fashion. “It’s a good thing you were there when it happened.”

  “I was only doing the neighborly thing,” Sinda said absently. Her brain felt like it was on overload. Tara’s wrist was broken, the doctor was about to set it, and the child wanted her to be there.

  Sinda squared her shoulders and followed the nurse down the hall.

  Twenty-three

  It was the last Saturday of October, and today was Sinda’s thirty-third birthday. She found it hard to believe how much her life had changed in the last few months. Everything wasn’t perfect as far as her emotional state, but thanks to God’s love and Glen’s friendship, she was beginning to heal. She was confident that the days ahead held great promise.

  As Sinda checked her appearance in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, her thoughts began to drift. I wish you were here to share in my joy, Mother. If only things had been different between you and Dad. I wish. . .

  There was a soft knock on the door, and she was grateful for the interruption. There was no point in dwelling on the past again. Not today. “Come in,” she called.

  Tara, dressed in a full-length, pale yellow gown and matching slippers, entered the room. Her hair was left long, but pulled away from her face with a cluster of yellow and white ribbons holding it at the back of her head.

  “You look beautiful,” Sinda murmured. “Just like a flower in your mother’s garden.”

  “Thanks. You look pretty too,” the child replied.

  Sinda glanced back at the mirror. She was wearing an ivory-colored, full-length satin gown, detailed with tiny pearls sewn into the bodice. Her hair, piled on top of her head, was covered with a filmy veil held in place by a ring of miniature peach-colored carnations. “I’m glad you agreed to be my maid of honor. It means a lot to me,” she said, moving away from the mirror.

  Tara’s cheeks flamed. “I suppose since you’re gonna be my stepmom, we should try to help each other out.” The child sniffed deeply, and Sinda wondered if she might be about to cry. “Like you did the day I broke my wrist. After all, I am supposed to love my neighbor.”

  Sinda reached for Tara’s hand, glad that the cast was off now and the wrist had healed so nicely. “Your dad loves you very much. That’s not going to change because he’s marrying me.” She swallowed hard, hoping to hold back the wall of tears threatening to spill over. “ I love you, Tara, and I’ll never do anything to come between you and your father. I hope you’ll give me the chance to prove that.” Sinda blotted the tears rolling down her cheeks with her lace handkerchief. “I’ve always been more comfortable with dolls than I have with people, but I’m going to try hard to be a good wife to your dad, and I really want to be your friend.”

  Tara’s lower lip quivered slightly. “Am I supposed to call you ‘Mom’ now?”

  Sinda shook her head. “Sinda will be fine.”

  “I know it was dumb, but for awhile I thought you had Dad under some kind of spell.” Tara gave Sinda an unexpected grin. “I’m sure glad you didn’t talk Dad into living in this old house.”

  “My house will work out well for my business, but your house is a much nicer place to live.” Sinda smiled. “And Sparky is getting along quite well at Carol’s.” She bent down and pulled a cardboard box from under the bed.

  “What’s in there?” Tara asked, taking a step closer.

  “Something for you.” Sinda placed the box on top of the bed and nodded toward Tara. “Go ahead, open it.”

  Tara lifted the lid, her dark eyes filled with wonder as she pulled out the restored antique doll. “It’s beautiful. Was it yours?”

  Sinda shook her head. “It was your grandmother’s doll, and your mother wanted you to have it. It needed some repairs, so your dad brought it to me several months ago. We’ve been saving it for just the right time.”

  Tara’s eyes pooled with tears as she stroked the doll’s delicate, porcelain face. “I’ll take good care of it.”

  Sinda slipped her arm around Tara’s shoulders, and when the child didn’t pull away, she whispered a prayer of thanks. There was another knock, and she called, “Come in.”

  The door opened, and Carol poked her head inside. “You two about ready? I think the groom is going to have a nervous breakdown if we don’t get this show on the road.” She chuckled. “No show—the groom might go.”

  Tara giggled as she moved away from Sinda. “Should we be mean and make Dad wait?”

  Sinda shook her head. “I want to start this marriage off on the right foot. No lies, no secrets, and no tricks.” She extended her hand toward Tara. “Ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” the child answered as she slipped her hand into Sinda’s.

  The ladies descended the stairs, and Sinda scanned her living room, decorated with bouquets of autumn flowers and candles in shades of yellow and orange. Some might think this an odd place for a wedding, Sinda thought with a smile, but I wanted my marriage to begin in the house where I learned what trust and true love really means.

  As her gaze left the decorations, Sinda spotted her groom, dressed in a stunning black tux, standing in front of the fireplace. He looked so handsome. The minister stood on one side of Glen, and Phil stood on the other side. Tara and Carol had joined the bridal party and
stood to the right of the men. Beside Sinda’s friend was a petite older woman with short auburn hair, streaked with gray. Her green eyes shimmered in the candlelight, and her smile looked so familiar. Sinda swallowed against the knot that had lodged in her throat. No, it couldn’t be. “Mother?” she mouthed.

  The woman nodded, tears pooling in her eyes, and her chin trembling as she smiled.

  But, how? When? Sinda, so full of questions, took her place beside Glen. She looked at her mother, then back at Glen, hoping for some answers.

  “I’ll tell you about it after the ceremony,” he whispered.

  Sinda could hardly contain herself. Here she was standing in the living room of her rambling old house, about to marry the most wonderful man in the world, and her mother was here to witness the joyful event. It was too much to comprehend.

  Feeling as if she were in a daze, Sinda tried to focus on the pastor’s words about marriage and the responsibilities of a husband and wife. She’d spent her whole life wondering if all men were alike, and now, as she repeated her vows, Sinda’s heart swelled with a joy she’d never known. Glen sealed their love with a kiss, and she found comfort in the warmth of his arms.

  As soon as the minister announced, “I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Glen Olsen,” Glen grasped Sinda’s hand, and they moved to the back of the room to greet their guests.

  Sinda’s mother was the last one through the receiving line, and she and Sinda clung to each other and wept. “How did you find me?” Sinda asked through her tears.

  Her mother looked over at Glen. “I didn’t. Your groom found me.”

  Sinda cast a questioning look at her husband. “How? When? Where?”

  He lifted her chin, so she was gazing into his eyes. “I hired a detective, and he found your mother living in Spokane, where she’d moved several years ago. She didn’t know your father was dead or that you’d moved away.”

  Sinda turned to look at her mother again, and her vision clouded with tears. “How come you never came to see me?”

  Clutching Sinda’s arm, she replied, “Your father threatened to hurt you if I did. He was an angry, confused man, and I was afraid to stand up to him for fear of what he might do.” She sniffed deeply. “Even though William filed for divorce, I never remarried. In order to support myself, I took a job as a maid at a local hotel. I never missed any of your school or church programs.”