“I don’t—”
“And you can hold your arguments, young lady. I’ve already made up my mind.”
“You’re a stubborn coot,” she muttered.
His chuckle was low and throaty. “Always have been.”
She stared across the room at the fireplace screen, which was covered with fingerprints, and thought about her next words. “I hate being a widow.” A tear slid down her face and her throat clogged. “Sometimes, I can’t take it. I’m lonely, Jason. I’m lost, heartbroken, mad as all get-out, and downright sick of life!”
“You’re not alone, Rachel; you’re never alone. God is sitting there with you right now.”
God. The name seemed somehow foreign to her, breeding mountains of guilt in her soul. And since when had her brother-in-law taken up preaching? Had Jason Evans, the die-hard party boy, found the Lord? Her cynical attitude bit through her core. Lord, I’ve drifted away from Your presence. Please forgive me, she prayed silently, then said, “Listen to you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you found the Lord.”
“And you’d be right. I got acquainted with Him not long after John’s accident.”
“Really?” She stretched her legs out in front of her, fanning her toes and making a mental note to remove the chipping nail polish. “Is this a ploy to pacify your conscience, Jason, or are you sincere?” Could she have been any more snide?
A tiny pause on the other end had her nearly apologizing, but not quite. “It’s the real deal, Rach,” he said, his voice quiet yet firm. “I reached a point where life got a little too crazy, and I had to step back and evaluate my goals. I came to find out that my priorities needed a good shuffling. Losing my brother…well, that started to put things into perspective. Instead of crawling out of bed to crack open a beer these days, I’m cracking open God’s Word. I’m changed, Rach. I’ve traded in the old me.”
She wondered why she found it hard to believe him. “How come you didn’t mention it when you came over last Sunday?”
“I guess I hoped maybe you’d sense something different about me without my bringing it up.”
She scrunched her eyes shut to push back her annoying tears. She had nothing to say in response because she had no desire to continue the conversation.
“What about you, Rachel? Are you keeping that Bible dusted off?”
“I’m very tired, Jason. Thank you for calling, but I just don’t feel like talking right now.”
“Then when?”
She relieved an itchy spot on her forehead with a swipe of her fingernails and sighed into the receiver. “I have no idea. I just…I don’t feel like talking. Matter of fact, I don’t feel like much of anything these days.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, leave me alone, would you?”
“Rachel.” His voice sounded all gentle and caressing. Blast him!
“I’m going to bed now. With a little luck, maybe I won’t wake up.”
She hadn’t meant it, of course, not one bit of it, and yet the stupid sentence trailed off her lips, anyway. Naturally, there’d be repercussions.
“Rachel!” The pliant tone was gone.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She hadn’t—had she?
“Well, then, why’d you say it?”
Yes, why? “I have no idea. It was just a slip of the tongue, okay?”
“A bad one. Now, you’ve got me worried.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Jason, you’re turning into a pest, you know that?”
“Have you talked to anyone…about your feelings?” he asked, passing over her remark.
“As in a grief counselor, you mean? Not that it’s any of your business, but, yes, I have. I’m in a support group at church.” Of course, she wouldn’t mention that she’d missed the last few sessions. Even though her friends and parents all readily offered at different times to watch the kids so that she could attend the weekly meetings, she’d begun to find them tedious and had started making excuses for not going.
“That’s good. I have, too.”
Briefly, she wondered what he’d learned at his meetings and whether they’d helped him cope, but she chose not to inquire, drawing her knees up to her chin now and hugging them. “Good for you. Look, I’ve got to go, okay?”
“Mind if I call you again?”
“Yes, I do, actually. I’d rather you left me alone.”
“Sorry, I’m gonna continue making a pest of myself.”
“Please don’t.”
“Rachel, I—”
“Good night, Jason.” She put the receiver in its cradle, and when the phone rang a couple of seconds later, she ignored it.
***
Just after eleven that night, Jason found himself on Rachel’s front porch, pressing the doorbell and pacing with impatience. When she didn’t answer, he put his hand on the doorknob and turned, finding it unlocked. Crazy lady doesn’t even lock her front door! He entered through the well-lit living room. The couch looked rumpled and was stacked with pillows, a balled-up blanket, and a wrinkled magazine. He wasn’t the best housekeeper, himself, but he knew Rachel. Before John’s passing, she’d been a regular neatnik.
Like a spy on reconnaissance, he skulked across the room, into the kitchen, back out through the formal dining room, and then down the hallway, past a powder room and a spare bedroom, its door open to a bunch of boxes, stacks of unfolded clothing, toys, books, and other things he couldn’t even name. This must be the catchall room, he figured. John would have had a fit. He’d liked order, not chaos. This was Chaos with a capital C. Another light glowed at the end of the hallway, but the house remained as quiet as a morgue.
“Rachel?” he called, tuning his ears for the slightest sound.
Nothing.
Any other time, he wouldn’t have fretted, but in view of the way she’d sounded earlier, he didn’t like the feel of things. Turning, he headed around the corner and up the stairs, tripping over a stuffed animal and then kicking it. If she’d gone to bed, why had she left half the lights on? He climbed the stairs two at a time, huffing when he reached the top. A hasty glance in Meagan’s room revealed no Rachel, so he moved down the hall. Just then, a door swung open, and Rachel emerged, wet hair dripping, long robe dragging on the floor, bare toes peeking out. One look at him, and she released an earsplitting, spine-tingling, roof-raising scream.
He grabbed her to him, muffling the sound with his shoulder. “Rachel, it’s me,” he said soothingly into her ear. “Shh. You’ll wake up the whole town.” She fought him wildly with both arms, flailing her fists until he grabbed hold and secured them tightly between his hands. When she settled down, he eased his grip on her wrists, but she broke free and unleashed her anger by giving him a good pound on the chest.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Jason Evans!” she yelled. “You scared me to death!”
“Well, don’t leave your front door unlocked, woman! Don’t you know how dangerous that is? I don’t care if you live in a nice, quiet neighborhood; you should have your door locked at all times, even during the day. No telling who could come walking in. There’re a lot of weirdos out there.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” she remarked, looking him up and down with disdain before giving him a stinging slap on the arm and stepping away. “What in the world are you doing here at this time of night, anyway?”
“I didn’t like your tone on the phone. You sounded stressed. And when you made that comment about wishing you wouldn’t wake up in the morning, it got me all worked up. I’ve spent the better part of the last hour worrying about you—and breaking the speed limit because of it, I’ll have you know.”
She shrugged and headed toward the stairs. He followed like a wounded pup. “I have no idea why I said that,” she said with a slight toss of her head. “It was stupid.”
“Yeah, it was.”
At the foot of the stairs, she bent to straighten a pair of shoes, as if that would fix everything else. Then she padded down the hall to the
kitchen.
“I understand your feeling desperate, Rachel,” he said, still following her, “but don’t say rash things unless you want people to knock down your door. Stuff like that tends to make a person a little crazy.” He leaned his body in the doorframe, every nerve alert as he watched her open the fridge and take out a bottle of grape juice. Relief surged through his veins. He couldn’t live another minute if something happened to her. “You will get through this, you know.”
“What makes you the expert?” She opened a cupboard door and took out a drinking glass. “Care for some juice?”
“No, thanks.” Her back to him, she unscrewed the lid and poured, then took a couple of good swallows before slowly swiveling her body to look at him. Her robe had seen better days, but it at least did a decent job of covering those parts he had no business looking at.
“I’m no expert, Rachel, but I know how it feels to lose someone you love. We’re in this boat together, remember?”
She studied the rim of her glass, running her finger along it but saying nothing. Her golden hair, still wet from her shower, hung in a muddled mess around her oval face.
Suddenly, a notion came to him. “I have an idea,” he announced. “Go get dressed.”
“What?” She lowered her glass a fraction and threw him a perturbed glance.
“Just do it, okay?” He stepped forward to take her glass and set it on the counter. Then, he slowly pivoted her so that she faced the door and gave her a little push.
“But, I don’t— It’s late. I need to get to bed, and, besides, my hair is wet.”
“So, what’s the big deal? It’s not like you’ll be seeing anybody tonight, and you don’t have to get up early, do you?”
“Not—exactly, but I just— What if I don’t feel like going anywhere? Jason, what kind of scheme are you cooking up? I’m not much in the mood for doing anything.”
“Don’t be an old poop. This will be good for you, I promise. Now, hurry up before the clock strikes midnight and I turn into a pesky ogre.”
“Pssh. Who said we had to wait till midnight for that?” she muttered as she shuffled toward the stairs. He grinned with satisfaction.
Chapter 6
Five minutes later, Rachel was seated comfortably next to Jason in his Jeep. They backed out of her drive and headed west as a calming, gentle breeze blew in through the partially open windows, brushing her cheeks and ruffling her damp locks. The streets were quiet, save for some light traffic and a few folks out walking dogs. With the exception of several well-lit gas stations, every establishment they passed was dark: drugstores, office supply stores, a furniture and mattress store, and several other small businesses.
They rode in silence until they came to the intersection at Lakeshore Drive and U.S. 15, where Jason made a right turn onto Lakeshore. “Are we going to the beach?” Rachel asked.
He smiled, his eyes trained on the road. “You gotta admit, it’s the perfect night for it, and I haven’t been down here in ages.”
They followed the Lake Michigan coastline, which led to the state park. Along the way, they passed restaurants, bars, novelty shops, and ice cream parlors, all hot spots at the peak of tourist season but now much quieter with the passing of Labor Day.
Just past a playground area, Jason found a parking space facing the lake, pulled into it, and cut the engine. The clouds had parted to reveal a starlit night, unusually mild for mid-September. “Come on, let’s walk,” he said, opening his door and getting out before she had a chance to respond.
She didn’t feel like walking, but the very pleasantness of the night pulled at her, so she found herself climbing out of the car.
Side by side, they set off down the paved walkway, neither speaking at first, just taking in the sounds of a few passing cars, a couple of dogs disturbing the peace, a door slamming, a distant foghorn blaring. “Nice, huh?” Jason said after a few minutes.
“It is,” she admitted, folding her arms across her chest.
She felt his eyes fall on her. “You’re not cold, are you?”
“No, it’s—it’s a beautiful night. I’m glad you brought me.”
“I knew it’d be good for you to get out of that house. I have a strong suspicion you don’t get out much, young lady.”
A tiny laugh escaped her lips. “Church and the grocery store. Those are our major destination points.” She laughed again, and Jason’s chuckle blended with hers.
They padded through a mound of sand that had blown onto the sidewalk. The full moon’s reflection glistened on the nearly motionless lake. A late-night jogger approached, nodded, and continued on his way, and Jason brushed against her as he sidestepped to make room on the path.
“How’s your business doing?” she decided to ask, realizing that everything so far had been about her, and that she’d selfishly allowed it instead of inquiring about his life.
For the next several minutes, he talked about his thriving company, his current projects, his hardworking crew, and even his condo, which she’d never seen, since he’d lived elsewhere the last time she and John had driven down for a visit more than two years ago. She asked about the development where he lived, the church he attended, and whether he had a good circle of friends. He filled her in, saying he liked his condo fine, loved his church and pastors, and had made a number of friends but had little time for socializing.
He managed to draw her into the conversation, as well, asking her about her church, her family, and some friends from the old gang they used to hang out with. He had the tact not to bring up his brother’s name. Of course, she didn’t hang much with the “old gang,” as he put it. Losing John had put a damper on her former friendships, as many of the married couples usually found it awkward to invite her anywhere. She had several faithful girlfriends, though, who insisted on keeping her as busy as possible, namely Allie Ferguson.
“So, tell me about this woman you’re dating. Candace, is it? Are you in love with her?” She glanced up and saw his Adam’s apple bob like a fisherman’s cork. Okay, so the questions had poured out with little forethought. They’d come to the end of the sidewalk, and now, nothing but beach stretched out before them. Hardly pausing, Rachel stepped out of her sandals, bent to pick them up, and proceeded through the shifting, sugary sand, knocking gently against Jason without meaning to, her damp locks falling around her cheeks. The starry sky reflected off the water as undercurrents swept miniature waves upon the shore. In the distance, a lighthouse flickered signals to incoming barges and small crafts, the pier on which it sat stretching out over the clear horizon like a pointy finger. A low, dull foghorn sent out its booming blast, skittering across the lake and creating ghostly echoes of warning.
Following suit, Jason stepped out of his shoes and edged closer to the water. “Hey, it’s not that bad. Stick your toes in.”
Feeling adventurous, she did so, amazed at how warm the water felt to her toes. “You’re right; it’s nice.”
She glanced across the Big Lake’s wide expanse at the dimly lit horizon. He must have noticed it, for he asked, “Remember how I used to say you could see Wisconsin from here if you looked hard enough?”
So, he planned to evade her question about Candace, did he? “Yeah, and I believed you.” He gave a hearty chuckle that rumbled through the air. Again, their sides bumped lightly. “I must have been in sixth or seventh grade. You and John were always feeding me some line or another, probably laughing behind my back when I swallowed it, too.”
“No. Us?”
She giggled at the memory, finding the feeling euphoric if not refreshing.
Wading back out of the water, she resumed walking through the dry, shifting sands. He followed, matching her steps. Their hands accidentally touched, so she quickly clasped hers behind her back, her sandals dangling by their straps from her fingers.
“You didn’t answer my earlier question…about Candace. That is her name, isn’t it? Are you guys serious?”
“Yeah, her name’s Candace. Um, I guess
we are…serious, that is.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she glanced up at his well-defined profile—straight nose, square jaw, and thick brows and lashes shading his deep brown eyes.
So different from John, she thought, and yet still handsome in his own right. John was classically striking with his neat-as-a-pin appearance, and he possessed a narrower, slightly shorter physique than Jason, with lighter hair and skin tone. Jason, on the other hand, had chocolate-colored hair and a tawny complexion, the result of hours spent in the sun. In addition to his rugged appeal, his distinctive air of self-confidence had set him apart from John, and people had often mistaken the boys for friends rather than brothers.
Rachel tried to lay aside all those observances and concentrate on the present.
“You guess? Why so cagey about the whole thing?”
He turned his gaze on her, but she couldn’t make out his downward expression because of the shadow across his face. “Cagey?”
“You know—guarded, evasive. Haven’t you been seeing her for a couple years? It seems by now you should be talking marriage.”
She stepped in a hole a child had apparently dug while building a sand castle and started to go down, but he caught her with a strong hand, as if he’d been waiting for her to trip. “She’d like to think we are,” he answered without missing a beat, dropping his hand back to his side again.
“So, you’re dragging your feet, then?”
He chuckled and nudged her playfully. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”
For the first time, it occurred to her she’d begun to relax, even enjoy their banter.
“I’m pretty intuitive, but then, most women are.”
“Yeah. Uncanny.”
“So, what’s the problem?” she prodded. How had she come from not wanting to talk at all to suddenly wanting the full scoop on his relationship with his girlfriend?
He released a light groan. “I just want to be sure God’s the one directing us, that’s all. If He’s not, then I don’t feel comfortable moving forward with marriage—or the relationship, for that matter. When I bring that up to her, though, she about has a coronary and thinks I’m breaking up with her right then.”
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