by Lenora Worth
Snow started falling from the sky. Beautiful fat flakes of white promising to cover the ground with its purity. But even snow eventually got dirty.
She reached up and caressed his face, while the weight of what she might be throwing away suffocated her. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” His eyes clouded over with sadness and regret.
“Goodbye, Ryan.” Kellie climbed in behind the wheel and started her car before she changed her mind.
* * *
Ryan watched her drive away. He couldn’t blame her for how afraid she felt. Standing alone in the cold, he prayed that somehow God would make her believe him. Believe in him enough to come back. He ran his hand through hair that was wet from the gigantic snowflakes and returned to the house.
He spotted Dorrie’s girls with their noses pressed against the window watching the snow silently blanket the ground. Several volunteers chatted about how good the snow would be for the opening of deer season later that week. He’d lose a lot of help then, but they were close to being done with the house anyway. He’d help the builder in charge do the finishing touches before ordering the occupancy permit and then he’d be done, too.
His community service hours had already been satisfied, and once he finished his treatment, the charges against him would be dropped and the stain of this entire incident would be sponged away. Or would it? What if Kellie was right and he couldn’t keep that promise he’d made?
A touch on his shoulder startled him.
“Where’s Kellie?” Dorrie asked.
He cleared his throat. “She went home.”
Dorrie’s eyes narrowed. “And you look like you lost your last friend. Did you two have a fight?”
Ryan shook his head. “She’s taking what happened to Karl pretty hard.”
“She’s not blaming you for—”
“No.” Ryan shrugged. “She’s scared, Dorrie. Too scared to take a chance with me.”
Dorrie nodded, her expression soft with understanding. “It’s not easy for her to be vulnerable. She’s fought against that her whole life.”
“But she can trust me.” God, please help me to make it so.
“Where we’ve been, trust doesn’t come easy.” Dorrie spoke from experience.
From what Ryan had gathered, she’d tried with Karl and had her heart crushed one too many times. But he wasn’t Karl. He knew what he had. What he’d been blessed with. Would Kellie ever love him enough to overcome her fears? That was a question only she could answer. And he could do nothing but wait it out.
It was late by the time Ryan left Dorrie’s for home. His heart felt heavy and it hurt. Working on Dorrie’s house reminded him of time spent with Kellie. Everywhere he looked, Kellie was there. That heaviness settled inside his soul and made him feel empty and lost all over again.
He spotted the mini-mart on the corner and part of him wanted to stop and grab a six-pack. His thoughts justified the need to relax, but he knew better. He wanted to forget his feelings again, numb them, even if for a night. But he’d need more than a six-pack to do that.
He kept driving instead. And he prayed, like he’d never done before.
After pulling into his driveway, Ryan stared at his darkened house on the lake with bitter resolve. He wanted to curse and yell but knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. He was tired of being alone. He wanted to be married. He wanted a wife. He wanted Kellie.
Once inside, he flicked on the light switch and glanced at his cell phone for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping for a message from Kellie. Nothing. He slouched into his chair and clicked on the TV, not bothering to build a fire. That trip to the mini-mart called out to him again, only a little stronger this time.
Ryan closed his eyes. He had to face the fact that the reason he’d gotten drunk that night at the party was because the effect of having a few beers every night had worn off. They hadn’t quite eased the pain then, and they wouldn’t now. And if he got drunk again, could he ever face what he’d become? He’d lose the battle, and that would cost him any chance he might still have with Kellie.
Oh, but the emptiness remained like a bottomless pit, despite what his brain told him. What he knew inside as true. He checked his watch. Too late to call his counselor at LightHouse Center. He’d see him tomorrow at group anyway.
Restlessness coursed through him, so he got up and looked out the window. Snow still fell, blanketing the ground in patches of white. They’d have a good couple of inches or more by morning. He could split wood, but it was too late and quiet; he didn’t want the sound to echo and bother his neighbors.
“God,” he breathed. “I hate this hollow feeling. Please take the craving from me. Please, God.”
He sat back down and hung his head in his hands for a few moments before he picked up his cell phone and scrolled the contact list. Without hesitating, he hit the button to connect and waited.
“Hello?” Sinclair’s voice sounded sleepy.
“Sin?” Ryan’s voice cracked.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m struggling here. Talk to me for a bit, will you?”
After the briefest of pauses, his brother said, “Hang tight. I’ll be right over.”
Ryan set down his phone, and his body went limp. This is what Kellie was afraid of. What she’d always fear with him. He couldn’t say that he blamed her, because he didn’t have it conquered like he thought. And that scared him, too.
* * *
“Pass the gravy, please?” Kellie’s mom smiled.
Kellie handed it over after dousing her mound of mashed potatoes. Thanksgiving dinner was her favorite meal, but she couldn’t rouse the appetite to eat much of it.
It’d been over a week since that awful conversation with Ryan. He hadn’t called her, hadn’t shown up under her window with a handful of pebbles like she’d hoped. Her resolve might have caved if he had. Didn’t he realize that?
“When can we have pie?” Gracie asked.
She grinned at her niece. Despite her loss of appetite, Kellie might make an exception for a piece of cherry crumb pie. “That’s up to your mom and Grandma.”
The girls had loved helping make pies the day before. All five Cavanaugh women had worked side by side in the kitchen, and Kellie had to admit the smell of home and holidays had lightened her mood. But she hadn’t once forgotten the ache she carried inside, like a cast-iron anchor that was too big for the boat and dragged her down.
“After we eat dinner,” Dorrie said.
Hannah played with her food. “Will Karl have Thanksgiving dinner in jail?”
A hush settled over the festive table that had been decorated with a pair of pilgrim candlesticks on either side of a rust-colored floral centerpiece of mums and carnations.
Kellie glanced at her parents. Sadness lurked in their eyes, and both of their shoulders seemed to slump. It wasn’t hard to imagine Karl all alone today.
“I’m sure he’ll have something good to eat,” Dorrie said with a voice more cheerful than she probably felt. “Now finish up your plate, Hannah.”
“Excuse me. I forgot something in the kitchen.” Kellie’s mom got up from the table.
Kellie looked at her dad. Would he go after her? When he didn’t, she got up instead. Stepping softly into the kitchen, she spotted her mother at the sink holding a dishtowel to her face. “Mom?”
“I’m sorry,” her mom sniffed.
“It’s okay. This is hard on everyone.”
Her mother turned to face her. Her eyes watered and her nose looked red. “If only I would have done things differently.”
Kellie cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“We left you kids alone too much. And when we were home, we were preoccupied with that stupid business.” Her mother pointed toward the dining room. “He s
till hides at the office far too much.”
Kellie had never heard her mother speak poorly of their real estate business before. Despite the long hours and weekends their business demanded, it had always been the source of their pride. Their passion. Their kids, not so much. “I thought you loved what you did.”
Her mom sighed. “I did. I do. But we were too wrapped up in it and we forgot what was truly important. We forgot about our kids. Karl suffered, and I think you did, too.”
Kellie’s eyes went wide. When had her mother come to this realization? “Why say all this now?”
Her mother shrugged. “Because I’m seeing a counselor. I’m trying to come to terms with what I did or didn’t do to make Karl turn out like he has.”
Kellie’s heart twisted. “Oh Mom, Karl made his own choices.”
“And what about you? You’re so distant and in control. Kellie, I fear you’re turning into stone. Strong, but cold.”
She took a step back, shaken by her mother’s perception. “I’m okay.”
“Are you? Are you really?” Her mother gave her a sad look before grabbing the dish of cranberry sauce that had been left behind.
Kellie followed her back to the dining room table, contemplating her mother’s words, stunned by their truth. Was it so bad to be in control? Exchanging a look with Dorrie, Kellie refused to answer and got back to the business of eating what she could.
They finished their meal in silence, and then cleanup wasn’t much better. There was only so much small talk to be said. Pie was served in the living room while a fire roared in the hearth and her father watched the Lions play football on TV. Picking at her piece of cherry crumb pie, Kellie kept thinking about Ryan. His family grew cherries. She’d never been to their farm but could easily imagine how beautiful it’d look when the cherry blossoms were in bloom. Ryan had promised to show her.
Too many thoughts turned to him.
When she finally slid into the bed she shared with Dorrie, Kellie stared at the walls of her old room plastered with her high school cheerleading memorabilia and girlish decorations. She’d saved a meaningless corsage she’d worn to her senior prom. What a joke that had been. Her date hadn’t cared about her, and yet Kellie had clung to misplaced hope that he would.
Kellie sighed, drained.
“Ryan’s nothing like Karl, you know.” Dorrie fluffed her pillow.
“I know.”
“I’m not so sure you do. Think about it. Ryan’s had what, one girlfriend in high school, and he would have married her if she hadn’t died. If that isn’t proof of commitment, I don’t know what is.”
“This isn’t about his commitment to me.”
“Isn’t it? Don’t you think he’ll be just as committed to his recovery?”
Kellie’s eyes went wide. Ryan had said that he got done what he set out to do. Dorrie’s house was certainly proof of that.
“He told me about why he needed community service hours. He also told me that he never had issues with drinking until recently. Don’t you see? Ryan faced his problem. Karl never faced anything about himself. It was always everyone else’s fault—your parents, his coaches, his boss. He was irresponsible and lacked commitment from the get-go only I was too stupid to see it.”
Kellie settled her head deeper into her pillow, while she weighed Dorrie’s words. “But what if—”
“Life’s full of what-ifs. You’re a counselor now. Do you believe all that you learned is false?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why can’t you believe in Ryan? He’s gotten help and is putting into practice what he’s learned. He loves you, Kellie, what more do you want?”
“A guarantee.” The words slipped out, and hearing them, Kellie realized how crazy they sounded.
“Well, good luck. There isn’t anyone who can give you that. Even God doesn’t guarantee that life will be easy. He only promises never to leave us.”
Kellie opened her mouth and then shut it. She didn’t have an argument for that one. She pulled the covers up under her chin and felt the old scars on her arms. Maybe she’d turned to stone because a hunk of rock didn’t need to bleed. Didn’t need to feel. Didn’t need to believe.
That Bible verse in Corinthians came back to taunt her—Love never gives up, never loses faith...
She hadn’t even given Ryan a chance. She’d condemned him to failure because she was scared.
“He’s a good man, Kellie.” Dorrie gave her shoulder a squeeze before rolling over.
“I know.” But did she really?
Kellie lay awake long after Dorrie had dozed off. Listening to her sister-in-law’s even breathing, she watched the moon shadows dance across her ceiling. Dorrie was right. She didn’t believe in Ryan. What did that say about her as a counselor, and even worse, as a Christian?
Anything she had to say to these kids she’d soon meet and serve would be nothing but empty words if she didn’t believe people could face their weaknesses and change. Didn’t her mother prove that was possible tonight? Her mom had finally faced their past and was trying to deal with it.
Kellie had no right to give kids advice she couldn’t even follow. She was a sham—a stone who’d let her heart grow cold with fear. She might as well not show up for work Monday morning.
Kellie closed her eyes and prayed. “Please Lord, help me to believe.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you sure your brother got the message?” Kellie peered out the window of her office. The lines of yellow buses had long since pulled away from the school’s curb.
“He’ll be here. He had band practice.” Destiny, one of her sixth graders, tossed her shoulder-length blond hair while her fingers tapped away on her cell phone.
“Our mom called you, right?” Her brother Kevin was a couple of years older and a serious kid. He questioned every rule, and tested them.
Even so, Kellie had to resist the urge to ruffle the boy’s hair every time she saw him. “Yes. She asked if you both could wait with me until Kenneth picked you up.”
Kellie made an attempt to clean off her desk while the kids waited. Too many papers and files had stacked up this week, and she was behind schedule. But then she was still learning the ropes, probably would be for the next couple of years.
“Are you going to the dance tomorrow night?” Kevin asked.
“I’m chaperoning.”
“Ooohh good,” Destiny piped up from her texting. “Kenneth’s band is playing and they’re really good.”
“Ah yes, the Mealy Peaches.” Kellie suppressed a laugh. “I’ve heard that, too.”
Their oldest brother played bass in a high school band, and tomorrow night’s dance was their shining debut. Kellie had no idea what style of music was their specialty, but with a name like Mealy Peaches, their sound had to be a little quirky.
“You got a date?” Kevin asked.
“I’ll know tonight.” Kellie smiled as she filed folders in her credenza.
Tonight, Dorrie was hosting a Christmas Open House in her new home. All the Church Hammer volunteers had been invited, and no doubt Ryan would be there, too. Her heart flipped thinking about it.
“You kids ready?” Kenneth poked his head through the open door of her office. “Thanks, Miss Cavanaugh, for watching them.”
“You’re welcome.”
Both younger siblings gave him a dirty look like they didn’t need a babysitter, only a place to wait for him.
“If you’re going to the dance tomorrow, save one for me.” Kenneth winked at her.
The kid had too much charm for his own good, and Kellie laughed. “I’m pretty sure my date wouldn’t approve.”
“Who are you going to ask, Miss Cavanaugh? Mr. Smith?” Destiny shouldered her backpack and pocketed her cell phone.
Mr
. Smith was the math teacher and also single. “No. I’m hoping a friend of mine will go with me.”
“Well, I think he’ll say yes if he knows what’s good for him.” Destiny gave her a big sweet smile. The girl meant what she said.
Kellie smiled back. “Thank you. I hope so.”
She waved goodbye to the kids who’d become her favorite students. She hoped Ryan would accept her invitation. She also hoped he’d understand what the asking meant. She wanted another shot at building a relationship with him. She wanted a second chance, and she prayed he’d want that, too.
* * *
Ryan mingled with people he’d spent the last couple of months working with to get Dorrie’s house finished. The place looked nice decorated for Christmas and smelled even better with the balsam scent of a freshly cut tree. Instrumental Christmas music played softly in the background while snow fell outside. Her house felt like a real home complete with the sounds of kids laughing while they played a board game in the bedroom.
That hollow feeling struck quick and sharp. His house didn’t feel like a home, only a place to live. And this holiday season felt more lonesome than ever. He grabbed a cup of citrus punch and glanced at the doorway. Would Kellie stay away tonight because of him? He hoped not.
She’d stopped coming to work on the house after that night. Not that there was that much left to do. And he’d only exchanged a few words with her since then—an awkward hello at church and then some silly moving jokes while packing up Dorrie and her girls a couple of weeks ago. He missed her.
Sinclair slapped him on the back. “She’ll show.”
“I hope so.” He wanted to talk to her. Needed to, in fact.
After eating a couple of the small fancy sandwiches laid out on decorative plates, Ryan looked up exactly when Kellie entered the kitchen through the laundry room. He swallowed the last of his punch pretty hard.
He’d never before seen her look so pretty. She wore a plaid wool skirt over tights and a navy turtleneck sweater that hugged her slender form. She’d left her hair loose in a riot of curls. He openly stared. Probably drooled, too.
Her cheeks were rosy pink, but then she’d just come in from the cold. Without hesitation, she walked straight for him and smiled. She didn’t look inclined to avoid him this time.