Route 66 Reunions

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Route 66 Reunions Page 11

by Mildred Colvin


  “You’d better not let her hear you say she’s old.” Tessa laughed. “She might challenge you to an arm wrestle.”

  “She’d probably win, too.” Rob patted his stomach. “Does she know we’re coming? Last time we popped in, she didn’t have any cookies baked.”

  “I’ll call while you’re getting dressed.” Before pulling the door closed, Tessa added, “If you’re going to pig out on cookies, you’d better eat oatmeal this morning. I’ll get some water boiling.”

  An hour later Tessa pulled into her mother’s driveway. The door opened and her mom, in jeans and a long overblouse, stepped out on the porch. She stood with her arms crossed until they reached the porch.

  “It’s about time you decided to come see me.” She grabbed Derek and Seth in a double hug and reached for Rob, too.

  Tessa stood back while the boys lapped up the attention from their grandmother, then followed the group into the house.

  “Did you bake cookies, Grandma?” Rob asked.

  “You bet. Go look in the kitchen. There’s milk in the fridge. When the cookies are gone, look in the backyard. I saw a stray kitten out there this morning.” She shooed them off and watched until they disappeared through the doorway. “Every time I see them, they’ve grown at least an inch. Every one of them.”

  Tessa laughed. “Didn’t you just see them Sunday at church?”

  Her mom shrugged. “Sure, but that was almost a week ago. So what are you doing today? Just visiting, or you got something on your mind?”

  “How do you do that?” Tessa sank into a chair and stared at her mother.

  “Do what?” The older woman settled on the sofa.

  “Know when something is bothering me or when I need something?” She shook her head. “It’s weird, Mom. When I come over to talk, you just plop down to listen. When I want to borrow something, you conveniently have it ready for me. If someone has hurt my feelings, you hug me. How do you do it?”

  Her mother laughed. “There’s nothing weird about reading your moods, Tessa. You’re my daughter. My only child. Right now you’ve got a little frown line between your eyes. You could be angry or hurt or worried, but I don’t think so. My guess is that you’re trying to make some sort of decision. Am I right?”

  “Of course you’re right.” Why hadn’t her mom cared so much sixteen years ago? She pinched the bridge of her nose. She shouldn’t complain about her mother’s neglect and indifference in the past. Rather, she needed to enjoy the wonderful relationship God had given them in the present.

  “So tell me what put that wrinkle on your forehead.” Her mother smiled. “The boys can’t hear, and I don’t gossip. My guess is it’s a man.”

  Tessa looked toward the ceiling and shook her head. She mumbled under her breath, “I really can’t believe this.”

  “Aha, I’m right.” Mom sat up straighter. “So are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

  “I should make you guess.” Tessa crossed her arms and frowned at her mother. “Yes, I have a problem. And yes, it has a whole lot to do with a man.”

  Her mother laughed. “You know, eight years ago what you just said would have struck terror in my heart. I would have immediately assumed you were pregnant. Now I know better.”

  Tessa shook her head. “No, that isn’t it, I assure you. But my problem is just as real.”

  “I take it you haven’t fallen in love with a wonderful Christian man who will make my grandsons the perfect father?”

  Tessa picked a nonexistent piece of lint from her sleeve. “I guess two out of three isn’t bad.”

  Her mother stared at her in silence before saying, “Two out of three. Does that mean you’ve fallen in love with a wonderful Christian man who has terrible fathering skills?”

  “Now you’re down to one out of three.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Her mother grinned. “You are making me guess. Something says you’re afraid to tell me.”

  “You are good at reading me, aren’t you?” Tessa shook her head. “Give up?”

  “Oh no.” Her mother held up her hand as if to stop Tessa’s words. “I’m sticking to the ‘fallen in love’ part. We wouldn’t be going through this if you didn’t care, now, would we?”

  Tessa inclined her head. “Yep, you are good.”

  “So good that I’m going to reverse numbers two and three and say you’ve fallen in love with a nonbeliever who has great fathering skills. Am I right?”

  “Perfectly.” Tessa clasped her hands in her lap. “Mom, what am I going to do?”

  Her mother shrugged. “There’s only one thing to do. Pray that man into the kingdom of God.”

  “Will you help me?” Tessa heard the back door slam, and she breathed easier. Now she knew the boys wouldn’t overhear.

  “I certainly will.” Mom leaned forward. “Give me a name—first or last—and I’ll get the prayer chain praying, too. What about his family? Does he come from a Christian background?”

  Tessa thought of the older Donovans and smiled. Until recently, she would have said Blake’s dad was closer to salvation than his mother. Only God could see a person’s heart.

  She answered her mom’s question. “His mother has recently been saved. He’s an only child, and his dad has colon cancer. He is also unsaved as far as I know.”

  “I’ll mention his dad to the prayer chain, too, then. How serious is the cancer?” Her mother seemed genuinely concerned.

  “Actually, he’s getting along very well right now, but prayer is never a waste of time. His name is George Donovan.” Tessa looked at her hands still clasped in her lap. “His son is Blake Donovan.”

  A gasp from the sofa told Tessa what she had feared. How had her mother remembered Blake’s name after all this time? Especially since back then she spent more time passed out than she did sober. She lifted her gaze to meet her mother’s.

  “Are you telling me you’re seeing. . . That Derek’s father is. . .” The older woman couldn’t seem to finish a sentence. She threw her hands out to the side. “How did this happen, Tessa?”

  “Do you remember telling me when I went on vacation that I would come home changed?”

  Her mother nodded.

  Tessa took a deep breath. “You were right. I ran into Blake in Oklahoma City. He has a restaurant there, and that’s where we picked to eat. Now he’s building another restaurant right here in Amarillo so he can be close to his parents because of his dad’s sickness.”

  A wrinkle deepened between her mother’s eyes. “Does he know about Derek?”

  “No.” Tessa shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

  “You’ll have to.” Her eyebrows lifted. “I doubt this one will go away as easily as the other two did.”

  “I know, and I will. I promise.” Tessa looked at her mother. “Blake’s a good man, Mom. He’s great with the boys. He has them cooking supper for me when I work. All I do is help a little with cleanup. They even do most of that.”

  “He deserves to know he has a son, Tessa.” Her mother frowned. “Waiting will make everything harder in the long run.”

  A week later, the boys had returned to school, and Tessa still hadn’t told Blake about Derek. Each time they were together, she expected him to notice the similarities that were so obvious to her. At first she’d had an excuse to remain silent. She didn’t know what kind of father he would be. That wasn’t as much of an issue now. Blake would make a fantastic father. Except he wasn’t a Christian, and he saw no need to change. Would he teach the boys that drinking was okay? As far as she knew, Blake didn’t drink, but he obviously saw nothing wrong with making money by selling to others.

  On Saturday night, the boys started for bed when the phone rang. When Tessa answered, she heard muffled noises and made no sense of the voice she could barely hear.

  “Hello, is anyone there?” she called into the receiver.

  “Is this Tessa Stevens?” A woman’s voice sounded far away, as if she didn’t have the phone close to her
mouth.

  “Yes, this is Tessa. Who is this?”

  “Cindy. We met. . .at the. . .shelter.” The voice became slightly louder, but there were short pauses between words.

  The shelter? Of course. An image of the green bruise covering the girl’s face at the women’s shelter reminded Tessa. Cindy had gone back to her boyfriend. She clutched the phone and closed her eyes. Lord, please be with Cindy.

  “Yes, Cindy, I remember. Are you okay?”

  “No, Tom. . .hit me.”

  “Where are you, Cindy?” Tessa’s heart pounded. The girl could barely talk. Her words were slurred. What had that man done to her? “Is Tom still there?”

  “No. I need. . .help.”

  “Where, Cindy? I’m coming, but I need an address.” Tessa grabbed a jacket from the coat closet and struggled into it while she talked. “Where are you?”

  As Cindy gave an address, her voice grew weaker, so Tessa had to strain to hear.

  “Okay, Cindy, please hang on. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Tessa hung up and immediately called Blake.

  “Rob.” While she waited, she ran to the boys’ room. “Rob, I have to go out for a few minutes to help a woman from the shelter. Will you guys be all right?”

  “Sure, Mom.” Rob looked up from a book. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s hurt and may have to go to the hospital.” Tessa turned away as Blake’s voice sounded in her ear.

  She headed toward the front door. “Blake, I need you.”

  “I’m on my way. What’s wrong?”

  “No, don’t come here.” Tessa closed the door behind her and ran down the walk to her car. “I’m going to help a friend. Meet me at her house.”

  She gave him the address as she slipped behind the wheel and started her car. “Her boyfriend beat her up. I don’t know what we’ll find when we get there.”

  “Shouldn’t you call the police?” In the background she heard a car engine start and thanked God she wouldn’t have to go alone.

  “Yes, I’ll call them on the way. Thanks, Blake.”

  “No problem.”

  Tessa told the dispatcher what she knew and was assured a patrol car would be there. After that, she concentrated on her driving and arrived first. She parked across the street from the small house that looked like a minor windstorm could blow it over. A rusted truck with the hood missing sat in the side yard. Various vehicle parts lay on the ground around it as if the mechanic had given up trying to fix the truck. The streetlight illuminated peeling paint and a sagging porch roof. Tessa wondered if it would fall when they stepped on the porch.

  She turned her engine off and headlights flooded her car; then all went dark again. Tessa turned as a car door slammed behind her.

  Within seconds Blake was there, opening her door. “Tessa, are you all right?”

  She climbed from the car with his hand on her shoulder, and then he pulled her against his chest in a tight hug.

  She could have stayed in the circle of his arms forever, but Cindy needed her. She pulled away and began walking toward the house. “I’m fine, Blake. It’s Cindy I’m concerned about. I don’t know what we’ll find inside.”

  “Did you call an ambulance?”

  “No, I didn’t know if I should. I thought the police would.” Tessa knocked on the door and listened to it creak open. She called through the dark, open doorway. “Cindy, are you here?”

  A moan came from her right. Blake stepped ahead of her. He flicked on the light, revealing a room that looked like a Texas-sized windstorm had hit. Tessa followed him inside. On their worst day, her boys had never made such a mess as this. Piles of magazines and papers leaned against one wall. A low table held used paper plates with food still crusted on them. Paper and plastic cups half full littered the room, several lying on their sides, the liquid pooling among the clutter and dripping to the floor. Every other available space on the furniture and on the floor was covered with clothing, shoes, video games and equipment, movie boxes, and more debris than Tessa could take in.

  Blake found Cindy first and knelt beside the chair that hid her. Tessa crowded past him in case a strange man frightened the girl. She didn’t need to worry. Cindy lay in a crumpled, unconscious heap.

  A knock at the door was quickly followed by a male voice. “Police.”

  Tessa and Blake stepped out of the way while the officers took over. They asked questions until the ambulance arrived. Tessa told what little she knew about the situation.

  Later, while Blake talked to one of the policemen, Tessa glanced around the room and at the paramedics working with the young girl who could have been her sixteen years ago. She watched them wheel Cindy out to the ambulance, and the burden she carried for the lost deepened. Except for God’s grace, she could still be living in this same filth and abuse. She hurt for Cindy, because she understood clinging to false love and hoping that this time, everything would be different. She knew what a man’s fist against her face felt like. She knew emotional abuse after she had been used and cast aside as trash.

  She stepped into the cluttered yard and watched Blake walk toward her. They fell into step, his hand closing around hers. She also knew what true love felt like, for she loved this man as she had loved no other, and she knew he loved her. Tears filled her eyes because their love held no promises, no future.

  When they stopped at her car, a sob caught in Tessa’s throat.

  “Hey baby.” Blake pulled her into his arms. “She’ll be all right. They’re going to make her well.” He stroked her hair and continued talking in a soft voice. “We’ll go see her at the hospital tomorrow. She’ll be awake then.”

  Tessa let the tears fall for Cindy, but she also cried for Blake and a love that could not be. Blake held her for several minutes after the police and ambulance left while darkness surrounded them.

  “I love you, Blake.”

  He stiffened. She felt the rumble in his chest when he spoke. “I love you, Tessa.”

  She pulled away and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “We can’t be more than friends. I’m sorry, Blake, but that’s all we can be.”

  She jerked her car door open and slid in behind the wheel before he could stop her. He stood beside the car without moving while she started the engine. She turned and shared a look with him that spoke of love and pain and hopelessness. Neither spoke. He closed her door and stepped back, his eyes dark pools of pain.

  She pulled away from the curb and looked in her rearview mirror. Blake still stood beside the street watching her. She signaled left and turned the corner. The streetlights shimmered through her tears.

  Chapter 12

  B lake stood beside the street watching Tessa drive away. Her car’s left taillight flashed. She turned the corner, and darkness swallowed her from his view. He got in his car and followed her as far as the corner. He turned to the right and picked up his cell phone to call his mom. Tonight he would sleep at the store. He wanted to be alone where he could think.

  Later, he lay on a cot upstairs in a room devoid of the furnishings that would one day make up his bedroom and relived that last moment with Tessa in his arms. Had he dreamed her softly spoken declaration of love? Why would she say she loved him and in the next breath say they could only be friends? That rejection cut sharper than his paring knife and hurt more than he cared to admit.

  When had he fallen in love with her again? When he recognized her in Pizza Playground. The answer became clear as he compared the two Tessas he had known.

  The former Tessa gave no thought to the future but grabbed pleasure where she could find it. She craved excitement, distraction, anything that would keep her from thinking too seriously. She loved her boys, but she took care of them little more than she took care of herself. She said she loved him, but he always felt used. A means to an end. That was why he’d left. He couldn’t ride her endless roller coaster any longer.

  The current Tessa was beautiful, smart, and successful. She held down a responsible job, own
ed her home, and was raising three great sons. The girl he’d known had changed. As if she’d become a new woman.

  Love for Tessa filled his heart. He wanted her in his arms forever. He wanted her with him where she belonged. Tessa and her boys. The five of them would make a great family. He could be the father the boys needed and had never had.

  Three boys when there had been only two before. She’d wasted no time missing him when he left for the navy. Derek couldn’t have been born more than a year after he left, if that.

  Blake stared at the ceiling, desperately in need of a new coat of paint, and thought of Derek. He was a cute kid. One any man would be proud to claim as his son. The idea that Derek might be his son had crossed his mind before, but he’d never seriously considered it. Now he did. And tossed the idea out.

  In the first place, Tessa would have had no reason to keep his son a secret. Not after he moved back to Amarillo. He could understand her hesitation before this summer, with the memory of his mother’s tongue-lashing eleven years ago. She probably thought there might be a custody battle if she told. But she wouldn’t have that concern now. She’d watched him with the boys and knew she could trust him.

  Besides, Tessa’s lifestyle in the past was far from pure. She’d told him once that Rob’s father was just a kid she’d hung out with not long after her father died. She claimed one of her teachers had fathered Seth. Although she and Blake dated for more than a year, he always wondered if she saw other men at the same time. No, his suspicions about Derek were just that. Tessa probably didn’t even know who Derek’s father was.

  Blake continued to sleep on his cot at the store throughout the week. His dad showed improvement each day when he stopped in to check on his parents. He was only a ten-minute drive away, so he saw no need to sleep at home. His mom stopped asking if he’d be staying the night and sent a stack of blankets and quilts with him to make sure he kept warm at night.

  He used the resulting freedom to stay up late and finish the painting in the downstairs. One day as he washed out his paintbrush, he thought he heard a sound at the front door. He laid the brush down and started toward the door when he heard a knock.

 

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