by Judy Baer
“Why are rocks colored?”
“Where does wind start?”
“Do snakes have good eyesight?”
“Do fish have taste buds?”
“Do hummingbirds really hum?”
Jack put his hand on my arm and we hung back as Ben raced ahead to examine the towboat in the Mississippi River Gallery.
“Is your head starting to ache? One more question and my eyeballs will start spinning in my head.”
“Lively curiosity, that’s all. I enjoy seeing that in a child.” The feel of his touch on my arm was both tender and caring. I might not have noticed if it weren’t for the fact that Jack is normally so restrained. His son, on the other hand, throws his arms around my waist whenever the impulse strikes him. Missing his mother? I wondered. Craving maternal touch?
I don’t believe Jack is unaffectionate or aloof. Just the opposite, in fact. He is holding his life together with sheer willpower. When Ben wished aloud that his mother could play with him in the experiment gallery, I’d felt Jack’s entire body stiffen, bracing himself against a wave of pain.
Linda had warned me that Jack has no time for relationships with women. It’s no wonder. Lowering his guard against emotional contact might break down the fragile walls that keep him together.
How must it be to have experienced a love like Jack and Emily’s? I can’t imagine it yet, but I’m waiting, holding out for the transcendent love they had.
Ben appeared to approve of his father and I walking together as we strolled through the museum. Each time he looked back to see where we were, he smiled broadly. After nearly two hours, I began to suspect that he was dallying and dragging out this afternoon for reasons of his own.
“I really should be getting home—”
Ben cut me off. “I want to look at the Rapetosaurus again.”
So we trudged off to see the fascinating long-necked sauropod with its long thin teeth, elongated neck and slender tail.
Ben took me by the hand and tugged at it until I bent down so he could look directly into my eyes. His gaze was intent, mesmerizing. “Can we go to the 3-D cinema before we go? I really want to see the show. Nathan hasn’t seen it yet and I want to beat him to it. Okay?”
I hesitated and Jack hastened to say, “It’s totally up to you. You told us you wanted to be home early.”
At that moment my phone rang. It was Pete.
“Just thought you might want to know that Maggie is with me. You don’t have to hurry home.”
“Are you sure?”
“We’re taking a walk to clear our heads. Take your time. Have fun.”
I closed my phone and looked at Ben. “Let’s go.”
He let out an earsplitting whistle, grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the theater.
We scooted into our seats, with Ben between us, but at the last moment Ben wormed his way over his father’s lap, leaving me to move next to Jack. As the theater darkened I was aware of Jack’s firm body next to mine, radiating heat in the large, chilly room.
Ben scuffled and leaned toward his father.
“Dad, why don’t you hold her hand?” he whispered just loud enough so that I couldn’t ignore it. “It’s okay.”
Jack stiffened and pulled his body inward like a black hole caving in on itself.
“Watch the movie, Ben.” His voice was controlled but cracked a little as he added, “I love you, buddy, don’t worry about me.”
I don’t remember a single thing we watched in the cinema. All I could think of was Ben observing and caring for his father, offering him permission to move ahead with his life. And then there was Jack, who understood but simply couldn’t budge from the emotional Antarctica in which he was trapped.
Chapter Thirteen
Jack and I did not look at each other as we exited the cinema. The brightness outside the theater left us blinking and shielding our eyes. It also gave us an excuse not to connect over Ben’s dark blond head.
Although Jack and I were uncomfortable over Ben’s expressed permission for us to hold hands, Ben seemed to have forgotten all about it.
“I want to go to the Explore Store,” he chirped. “There are very cool things in there.”
Depleted of energy to stem this boy’s tide, Jack acquiesced. “Go ahead. Quinn and I will find coffee and wait for you outside the store by that small table in the corner.”
“Can I have some money, Dad?”
Jack opened his billfold and counted out dollar bills. “Don’t waste it.”
“Nope.” And Ben was off like a shot.
“I expected Ben to tire first.” I kicked off my shoes and breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s the one with a condition, not me.”
“The child can run on vapors,” Jack said with a chuckle.
“I never realized how pleasant a day at the museum could be,” I told Jack when he returned with a latte for me. “He is going to be a challenge and a delight to work with.”
“You mean you still want to? I thought that today might scare you off.” Jack looked at me with an affectionate expression tinged with a hint of laughter. “You may run away, screaming at the top of your lungs now if you wish.”
“You’ve got to give me—and Ben—more credit than that!”
“Sorry about—”
I held up my index finger to shush him. I didn’t mean to touch his lips, but there it was. They were warm and dry against my skin. I pulled away quickly. “Nothing, absolutely nothing to be sorry about. I had a wonderful time today. Truly.”
“Me, too.” A smile broke across his face like the sun chasing away the clouds. “Thanks for that, Quinn.”
“Anytime.” It astonished me how much I meant it. Anytime!
We sat back to enjoy our coffee, and Maggie’s problems flooded back to me.
“You’re preoccupied,” Jack commented. “Something on your mind? Good ideas for harnessing my son’s curiosity, I hope.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
Jack appeared to be contemplating my inner weather, which was, at the moment, stormy. “Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t want to bother you with my personal problems.”
His dark eyes, fringed with long dusky lashes were kind. He was so close that I could see tiny smile lines around his eyes in his tanned face. There wasn’t an ounce of extra fat on Jack’s lean frame, but he looked so solid and so real…and trustworthy.
“I’m a good listener.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“Ben is going to be gone at least half an hour. He inherited his mother’s shopping genes. He has to examine everything in the store before he’ll buy anything. Unless you have a burning desire to rehash what we’ve seen today, we’ve got the time.”
It was tempting. As an objective listener, perhaps he could come up with an idea to help Maggie, something that Pete and I had missed.
“Tell me to stop if you get bored, okay?”
“I’m not too worried.” His expression softened. “I know how it is not to have a sounding board. It can be a lonely place.”
He knows lonely only too well.
“My friend and roomate Maggie and I are both models. Unfortunately, Maggie isn’t cut out for the business. She takes it personally when she doesn’t get a job. She’s convinced herself that if she were different she would get more jobs. Her self-esteem is about this big.” I held my index finger and thumb a quarter inch apart.
He listened intently as I told him about the health club, its decision to change its image and Maggie’s crushing disappointment.
“She’s scaring my friend Pete and me. We can’t cajole her out of this destructive mood she’s in. I’m sure she’s falling into depression, but she won’t admit that.”
His eyes were compassionate and kind, as if he could feel Maggie’s pain. “I didn’t realize how difficult it might be to be in your profession.”
“My temporary profession,” I corrected. “I’m a teacher first and foremost. Modeling pays the bills so I can
do more of what I want.”
“Teaching?”
I realized that our index fingers were in such close proximity that they were nearly touching and that a little spark seemed to be traveling back and forth between them like the pull of two magnets being held apart.
I drew my attention away from my hand and back to Jack’s face. “Tutoring. I’m not sure anyone understands the draw or the affection I feel for my students. Sometimes even I don’t get it. I just accept that God made me a teacher to my core. To ignore that would be to disregard my calling and the children whose lives He wants me to touch.”
He nodded as if he approved of my answer. “But back to your friend.”
“Maggie has been counting on that contract. It was the one thing she felt she had going for her.” Jack listened with his entire body, as if the story I told was the most important thing on earth.
“Her boyfriend left her a few days ago and she’s devastated. Today she got the word that she’d been dropped from the health-club account.”
“Ouch.”
“No kidding. That’s why I don’t dare say much about an offer I just received. I’m turning it down, anyway, and I don’t want to make her feel worse than she already does.”
“What’s the offer?”
Impulsively, I put my hand on top of his as it rested on the table. His hand was strong, sinewy and warm to the touch. His smooth skin felt silken beneath my palm. His eyes, when he looked at me were so tender that my tongue and my brain tangled like that lump of gold chains in my jewelry box that I’ve never been able to separate.
“Your new job?” he prodded gently.
“Not my new job, my new job offer,” I corrected. “It’s a reality-television show.”
I took a breath and plunged in, blathering about everything from cocoon to emergence.
“Is it so bad, really? The contestants know what they’re in for. Maybe it’s their one and only chance to have their ears lowered or get rid of that nose of Aunt Brunhild’s that they inherited.”
I was surprised at his perspective. “But it’s such a slippery slope to put people on and a terrible message to convey. You’re special when you are beautiful and not so special if you aren’t. Beauty is transitory and short-lived. We both know that. An accident, an illness, great unhappiness…” His expression tightened and I realized he was thinking of his wife. “All those things can erase the physical beauty we strive for. Then what? Does it mean someone isn’t important because men don’t turn their heads or women don’t gawk enviously when she walks by?”
He frowned, rolling this information around in his head like so many rocks in a tumbler. “I see what you mean.” His engaging smile tipped one corner of his mouth. “I’m eternally grateful that people don’t judge me by my looks alone.”
Even though Jack is incredible looking, his greatest charm and appeal are still in the way he interacts with his son, the dignity with which he bears his loss and the twinkle that’s never far from his eyes even when the conversation is uncomfortably serious—like now.
“There’s a verse in Proverbs that keeps looping through my thoughts. When pride comes, disgrace comes. Wisdom is with the humble—something like that. That’s why every alarm bell goes off and every red flag starts to wave for me when I think about Chrysalis.”
Jack opened a chocolate-chip-macadamia-nut cookie the size of a salad plate, broke it and handed half to me.
“It is easy to get wrapped up in staying beautiful and become a slave to the latest wrinkle cream or lip plumper.”
“They have lip plumbers now?” He looked incredulous.
“Not ‘plumbers,’ plumpers… Oh, never mind.” I grinned. “It just shows that you’ll never be a part of the better-living-through-cosmetics-and-plastic-surgery crowd.”
“I certainly hope not.” He smiled and it was as if I saw Ben beaming at me with pure enjoyment in his eyes. It was a look I could easily get used to.
“So this show says that beauty is all important and that if you’ve got it, flaunt it. And that rubs you the wrong way because of James 4:6?”
“You know that verse?”
“My wife was a very strong Christian and she nurtured my faith, as well. Anytime anyone’s head got too large for his or her body, she’d say, ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’”
He looked a little chagrined. “When you live with a sports buff, especially a volunteer coach with a winning team, there are plenty of opportunities to use that line.”
“She was a smart woman.”
“She was that and more.” He faded from me a little, like the Cheshire cat wavering in and out before Alice’s eyes in Wonderland. Then he returned to the present and asked me a question that startled me.
“What if God wants you to be a part of this show?”
“He wouldn’t…I can’t imagine…surely not…” I stared at him. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve just found that it’s wise to check things out with the Big Guy before I discard them summarily, that’s all. He works in mysterious ways.”
At that moment Ben returned to us burbling over the treasures he’d found in the store, postcards, a polished rock, pencils and other meticulously chosen small items.
“I did good, didn’t I, Dad?” He beamed up at his father. “I got a lot of stuff for the money you gave me.”
“You certainly did.” Jack looked closely at Ben. The child’s eyes were unnaturally bright. “You look as though you are about to fall over from exhaustion, buddy. Did you overdo it today?”
“I am kinda tired.”
Jack picked up Ben in his arms. “I should have been watching out for you. I let you do too much.”
“But it was fun!” Ben leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “It was fun ’cause you came along. Can you come with us next time we go somewhere? Dad says we can go to the Children’s Theater sometime soon.”
“Let’s talk about it later,” Jack suggested. “Quinn’s probably very tired of us right now.”
Tired of them? I’m not sure that would be possible.
Much later, Jack’s odd inquiry was still floating through my mind.
What if God did want me to take the Chrysalis job?
Jack had said it. God works in mysterious ways.
Could that include a cheesy television show that is going to make mental cases out of some perfectly nice, normal people before the producers get through playing with their minds?
Chapter Fourteen
I dumped milk onto my Rice Krispies and sliced a banana over the top.
Maggie didn’t look up from her cereal bowl.
I always know when she’s depressed by what she eats for breakfast. When things are going well, she has a finger-wide sliver of cantaloupe, a strawberry she slices paper thin, a hard-boiled egg and a rye crisp.
Today she was eating what she’d brought home from her trip to the grocery store—garishly colored presweetened cereal that was turning the half-and-half she’d poured over it an odd shade of lavender. There were crusts of heavily buttered slices of cinnamon raisin bread littering the table around her dish and an enormous tumbler of chocolate milk poised by her hand for easy access. I’d had to stop her from drinking the chocolate milk straight out of the carton and make her pour it into a glass.
Self-destruction takes many forms. Saturated fats, synthetic dyes, artificial flavors and preservatives are Maggie’s.
“Don’t you have a tryout today? Maybe you’d be more on top of your game if…” I picked up the cereal box with little brightly colored gizmos doing the jitterbug on its front. “What is this stuff?”
“I saw it advertised on Saturday when I was watching cartoons. Kids are supposed to love it.”
“Cartoons? Oh, Maggie, you have to snap out of this!”
“Give me a little more time, okay?” She held out her hand. “And pass me the cereal, will you?”
I clutched it to my chest. “What time is your appointment?”
Maggie
peered at the clock and her eyes widened. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m going to be late for my manicure.”
“I could give you one if you want.”
“No thanks. The audition is for a hand model. I can’t have a homemade manicure for that.”
She disappeared into her room and came out twenty minutes later with her hair twisted tightly on the top of her head. It pulled a little at the corners of her eyes, making her look even more exotic than usual. She wore a neat suit and three-inch heels and looked like she’d been hanging out in a Vogue magazine advertisement until only moments ago.
“Fabulous!”
“Whatever. Wish me luck.” Maggie disappeared in a waft of perfume.
Luck? I don’t think so. Prayer? That’s what I’m into.
Dash, who had already been outside for his morning ablutions inexplicably decided I needed to go for a walk. He approached me, carrying his leash in his mouth, dropped it on the toes of my slippers, ran to the door and whined.
“I can’t play with you, Dash. I have to do lesson plans.”
He collapsed into a pitiful leggy lump on the floor and gave a whimper that would have moved a heart of stone.
“I’ll walk you later.”
He gave a high-pitched whine, let his head fall to the floor and covered his long sleek nose with his paws.
“Well, if you’re going to be like that…”
He was on his feet in one quick, graceful movement and I had a glimpse of the athlete lurking beneath his couch-potato persona.
I glared at him sternly. “A ten-minute walk, that’s it. Unless you can help me figure out a new science unit, I have to get busy.”
He shivered with anticipatory glee while I tied my tennis shoes. I hooked his leash to his collar and when I opened the door he burst through it, nearly dragging me into the doorjamb face-first.
Purposefully, he towed me toward the small park across the street and headed for a large flower bed that held mass plantings of bright purple, pink, yellow and white blooms. There were coneflowers, black-eyed susans, cosmos, daylilies, geraniums and several others I couldn’t identify, all chosen for one purpose—to attract butterflies.