by Ava Miles
All she could do was sniff in reply. Hadn’t John Parker tried to tell her the same thing?
“I never was much of a listener until I met Tory, but she all but demanded I change. Since I love her, I learned how to listen, and she helped me when I sucked at it in the beginning. Now that J.P.? That boy has always been a good listener, and from what I can see, he pretty much hangs on to your every word.”
More tears streamed down her face at that. Yes, he did. Wasn’t that one of the first things she’d loved about him?
“Tammy, neither one of us had a good model for marriage growing up with Mama and Daddy, but we forge our own paths. Did I ever tell you how they named Dare River?”
Rye was pinging around so much, her head was hurting trying to follow him. “No.”
“Some pioneers who were on their way to Texas came to this river. It was rough waters that spring, it’s said, and they had two wagons, one carrying a newborn baby and a mama, the other the supplies they needed to survive. It was either dare to cross into their new life or turn back. They dared and made it across just fine.”
“You’re saying I’m at a crossroads?”
After Rory’s reaction to her news, she’d felt like she was hanging over a cliff by her fingernails.
“Seems like,” he murmured, kissing her head and untangling himself. “I don’t think you know your own strength yet, but honey let me clue you in on something.”
She waited, fireflies winking in the night now, reminding her of the magic of John Parker’s gardens.
“You’re stronger than you think.” He rose then. “I’ll just leave you to sit a spell.”
She reached out in the darkness for his hand. They connected, and he held hers strong and tight for a long moment.
“Thanks, Rye.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for, honey. I’m toast in your hands too. ‘Night now.”
As he walked away, a new peace settled into her heart amidst the sounds of the river and the life it sustained, even in the darkness.
Chapter 44
John Parker was sitting in the chocolate garden when the sun rose. Everything had changed. Tammy and the kids were gone, and he’d wondered how volatile and fearful bedtime had been after seeing that first blast of disrespect from Rory. He’d been tortured by thoughts of how he’d broken that child’s heart as the moon traversed the sky. Rory would know he wasn’t going to be his daddy now. That his prayer and Annabelle’s hadn’t been answered.
With so many broken pieces of so many hearts in the mix, he’d turned to the only power he knew for guidance. But the pain was too severe in his chest for him to hear any words back in the darkness. As he finally left the garden, he decided he needed someone to talk to, so after showering and having a cup of coffee in the unusually quiet kitchen, he headed over to see his mama.
She’d been an early riser his whole life, and he knew she loved to be alone in the office after having some prayer time herself. Sure enough, when he arrived, she was sitting at her desk, typing on her computer, a stack of letters beside her, likely invitations from her flock.
“Good morning, Mama.”
Her hands immediately fell from the keyboard, and she leaned back in her chair. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
No small talk was needed. Not with her.
“Me either. I needed some comfort and some counsel, and I knew you’d be good for both,” he said, crossing the room for a hug.
She rose and wrapped her arms around him. “Come sit with me on the couch then, sweetheart, and tell me what happened.”
When they sat, she took hold of his hand and looked him straight in the eye. He’d learned to listen from his mama, and he had to swallow over the lump in his throat before he could speak.
“We’re finished, Mama,” he choked out.
“Oh, baby,” she said and simply wrapped her arms around him again.
The sweet floral scent of her reminded him of home, a home he wouldn’t be making with Tammy and the kids.
She held him as long as he needed holding, and when he finally sat back, he wasn’t ashamed of the dampness in his eyes.
“She said she never wanted to get married again. That it was best we don’t continue to see each other since that’s what I want for us.”
“Well, given her background, I can see why. Marriage wasn’t exactly a sacred relationship for her, was it?”
That only frustrated him. “But I’m not her ex-husband, Mama, and I told her that. She said she doesn’t want me to take care of her. Now what in the world is wrong with me trying to do that? She’s acting like I’m going to crush her spirit.”
Her smile was soft. “John Parker, I love you in the fierce way only a mama can, but you do have a mighty strong take-care-of-women-folk gene. You were the only man amidst a flock of women growing up. I never asked you to be the man of the house, but you stepped into that role anyway. Perhaps in teaching you how to be a man, I put too much expectation on you. Most of us women don’t want to be taken care of, John Parker. We only want to be loved.”
Hadn’t he given Tammy that? “But I do love her, Mama.”
“I know you do, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell me what else she said?”
He’d gone over it a thousand times in his mind, looking for what he could have done or said differently, so he was able to give her a detailed account.
When he finished, Mama shook her head like she was mulling things over. “Well, I can see Tammy’s point, John Parker,” she finally said. “She’s only finding out who she really is now, after a long and painful marriage. From what you’ve told me, she’s been shedding her skin like a snake, leaving behind all the old parts that were hurting her. She’s growing a new skin—one in which she can feel pride, one that will make her feel like she deserves to be loved. And she has to believe that to be in a healthy relationship, John Parker, and that belief only comes from personal growth.”
“I don’t plan on stopping her growth,” he pointed out. Somehow he hadn’t expected his mama to understand Tammy so well, and he was starting to hang his head a little lower as she repeated what Tammy had told him, only in a different way.
“I know you don’t, honey, but you came here for a reverend’s advice just as much as you did for your mama’s. The mama in me doesn’t like seeing you bleed, but the reverend understands Tammy’s fear. She’s smart not to let herself get swept away. Some people I see come here fresh off a divorce, John Parker, and they don’t allow enough time for themselves to learn and grow from the experience. Others have made some changes. Lost some weight. Quit smoking. Heavens, you wouldn’t believe some of the things people blame for the end of their marriage. But most people don’t take it as an opportunity to learn how to love themselves. Be their own person, speak their own mind, and learn about the new person they’re becoming.”
He lowered his head into his hands, feeling like nothing could be made right now. “I know Tammy is still healing, still growing. I simply want to support her as she goes through that process.”
“Divorce is messy, John Parker, but so is life. Tammy knows she has strong psychological patterns that keep her from being true to herself, ones that allow a man to dictate her life. All abused wives have to come to terms with the reasons for why they stayed when they finally break free. From what I can see, she’s making great strides.”
He looked up, thinking about how she’d faced down Sterling on her own. But where did that leave him? “I can give her more time if she’s willing. I’ll give her and the kids space so she can keep finding her feet, building her business. But what if she never wants to get married? What if she realizes she doesn’t…”
Oh, crap. Tammy was right after all.
“You were saying?” his mama asked, cocking her head to the right now like she did when someone had experienced a breakthrough.
“I was going to say what if she realizes she doesn’t need me, and then I realized that’s exactly what Tammy was talking about.”
He nodded, thinking of the many marriages he knew, most of them unhappy.
“Love can only be sustained by equality, mutuality, and presence. What I mean by that is that each person must respect the other’s thoughts, feelings, and choices. A healthy relationship is grounded in listening to your partner and seeing them for who they really are—not who you want them to be. And of course, loving them and supporting them. That’s the only way I know to breathe spirit into a life spent together.”
He sat there quietly, taking it all in. What she said made so much sense. “You didn’t have that kind of a relationship with my daddy, but you have it with Dale.”
She patted his hand and wandered to her sideboard where she brewed a cup of tea for herself and a cup of coffee for him using her instant beverage maker. “You’re right. When I started dating Dale, he wanted to take care of me too, but I loved my newfound freedom and wanted to keep making my own decisions. It wasn’t always easy, raising all four of you kids on my own, but I didn’t have to answer to anyone. I liked it that way. Dale and I had much the same discussion as you and Tammy did.”
“You never told us that,” he said when she extended his steaming cup to him, the hazelnut scent wafting over him.
“No, we didn’t. We simply tried to show you what a loving relationship looked like. And when it came down to a big decision, we would both sit with it in our own way. Usually we came to the same conclusion, but sometimes one of us didn’t have as strong a gut feeling about the issue, so we’d go with the one who did. We give each other space to grow and share who we are and who we are becoming with each other, every day.”
He took a sip, the warm coffee soothing his raw throat. “So, partnership…” He liked that word better than marriage, and he hoped Tammy would too when the time came for them to have another talk.
“Yes, it makes more sense. Of course, as a reverend, I’ll counsel you to have an honest conversation about what partnership means in terms of her children.”
“I want them to be mine.” He thought of what Rory wanted too. “I love them.”
This time she laid her hand on his arm and kept it there. “I know you do. Give her time and space, John Parker. When there’s true love, things always work out.”
He kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Mama.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Now go tell Tammy you understand where she’s coming from and that you still love her and don’t expect anything more from her right now. That will put you both out of agony.”
A ripple of fear rolled across his belly. “Do you think she’ll still feel the same way about breaking things off?”
In her eyes was the same light he saw when she was giving a sermon. “I think she’ll still love you if you tell her how you really feel and then give her the space to do the same.”
He hugged her again. “I’ll call and let you know.”
“I’m glad you knew you could come by, John Parker.”
“I always know that, Mama.”
As he left her office to go see Tammy, he realized the word partnership held as much magic as Tammy’s gardens. He couldn’t wait to tell her about it so she could finally realize all the treasures their love would bring them both.
Chapter 45
As Tammy pulled into the driveway after running to the market for the buttermilk they needed for Tory’s magical cornbread, she spotted John Parker’s truck. Across the front lawn, Rye and his friend were talking, Bullet and Banjo rolling in the grass at their feet.
A mostly sleepless night had her feeling raw. When she finally had managed to drift off, she’d dreamed of bread, butter, and jam and had awoken crying.
Maybe he wasn’t here to see her, but she doubted it. Turning off the car, she shook her head. Of course, he was here to see her. They needed to talk. She’d been impetuous to break things off like she had. Rye was right. John Parker had never run roughshod over her, nor would he ever.
She might not want to get married right now, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would, but she loved him. Of course, she didn’t know where that left them.
John Parker was the marrying kind.
In a parallel universe, that realization might have been funny. Weren’t women the ones who were supposed to be that?
As she left the car, the dogs took off in her direction. Rye called out their names, and they instantly came to heel, heeding him in a way they never heeded Tammy. Rye clapped John Parker on the back, waved at her, and headed off without a word. The man she loved walked toward her, his eyes searching hers.
“You probably think I’m a bad penny, coming here after last night, but my mama said to never let things sit between people for too long, so I came to say I’m sorry. I was wrong not to realize how you might feel about me talking about marriage this soon. If you want to keep things the same between us and keep being on your own, that’s all right by me. I love you. The only thing I want is to love you.”
She rubbed the tightness his words brought to her chest, already fighting tears. “I’m sorry too. I was wrong to say you’d make my decisions for me. John Parker, you need to know this. I have never for one moment mistaken you for Sterling.”
The breath he exhaled sounded like it had been wrenched from his chest. “Thank you for that.”
“I still don’t know if I’ll ever want to get married,” she told him. “I don’t want to dance around that, John Parker. I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”
Something flashed in his eyes. “Can we go for a walk? I had some wisdom come my way this morning, and it’s helped me see things in a new light. I wanted to share it with you, if you’ll listen.”
Listen? His ability to do that was what she most prized about him, so she would give it back to him now. “Let’s go to the river. I had some wisdom find me there too.”
“How about I put your purse and the groceries in the house, so you don’t have to carry them?”
It was an instance of him taking care of her, sure, but with all the new realizations swirling through her mind, she extended the purse and the grocery bag to him. He gave her a brief smile, like he understood how big a step that was for her, and jogged off.
She put her hands to her back and stretched in the sun, praying for guidance, for the best way to share how she felt without driving any more discord between them.
When he returned, he asked, “Can I hold your hand as we walk?”
“Oh, John Parker,” she said, the sweetness of the request washing over her. All she wanted was to jump into his arms, but it was important for them to talk first.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
His fingers curled around hers, the perfect fit.
They made their way down the serpentine garden path she’d created that looped beside the house. The roses bloomed in a profusion of pinks and reds and whites, and some of the petals lay on the ground, creating a magical carpet. The hydrangeas’ blooms hung heavy against the green in a mix of blues and pinks. Every time she saw what she’d done here, it reminded her of what she was capable of. She could bring something to life from nothing—just like she had with herself.
And then she t
hought of Rye’s toast metaphor and gave a quiet laugh.
“Something funny?” he asked.
“Just thinking about something Rye said.”
It wasn’t where she’d hoped to start, but they had to start somewhere. Perhaps it would thaw some of the chill between them. So she told him about her brother’s unique marital colloquialism.
“Well, I like toast,” John Parker finally said after a long pause. “And heaven knows I love my mama’s homemade jam.”
Was he trying to keep things light between them? Not delving too much into what the butter, bread, and jam meant for them? Following suit, she asked, “What kind of jam does your mama make?”
So they would start to mend their rift this way. With the simple things.
“Oh, about all kinds. She starts with strawberry in the spring and then goes crazy with peach and plum as the summer drags on.”
“We never made jam growing up.” Her mama would never have considered doing something so domestic.
“I’ll get you a jar of my mama’s. What’s your favorite?”
Another connection, linking their families together. “I’m partial to strawberry,” she admitted, deciding she might try and plant some strawberries next season.
“Me too,” he answered, and they fell back into silence again as they crossed the meadow.
A flock of black crows flew overhead, squawking loudly, and a few mosquitoes touched upon her skin. The sun was warm, the air as thick as the sorrow still lodged under her breastbone.
When they reached the river, he sat beside her, still holding her hand. The water was clear at the edges and muddy in the middle where the current was the thickest, and Tammy wondered if that’s how life was.
“I didn’t sleep last night, without you and the kids,” John Parker admitted.
Her eyes grew wet, and she blinked to force the tears back. “Me either.”
“I spent a lot of time in our chocolate garden, praying for guidance about us, about what to do. When I didn’t find any answers, I went to see my mama.”