Tender Vow

by MacLaren Sharlene

  Rachel had begun her leave-taking around five o’clock, and Meagan had spoken on Jason’s behalf, announcing that he was coming home with them to watch Cinderella. The women and Mitch had been unfazed by the news, even enthusiastic, but his dad’s face had frozen in a blank stare.

  “That’s wonderful,” Arlene had said.

  “Yes, enjoy the movie,” his mom had chimed in.

  “You see to it he stays awake, Meaggie,” Mitch had added, touching Meagan’s nose and grinning up at Jason.

  “He will!” Meagan had giggled, hugging Jason’s leg like she would a porch post. “’Cause he never saw it before.”

  After putting on his coat, helping Johnny and Meagan into theirs, and rounding up the diaper bag and Rachel’s salad bowl, Jason had scooped Meagan into his arms and gone to hug his mom good-bye with a promise to call her soon. She’d tugged them close and kissed Meagan on the cheek. “You have a nice time at Rachel’s tonight,” she’d whispered in his ear. “It’ll be good for you two to spend some time relaxing. Maybe you can even talk about…you know.”

  “John?” he’d returned in a hushed tone. She couldn’t even say his name. “Maybe.” He’d glanced past her at his dad, who hadn’t budged from his place in the arched entryway to the family room, where he’d stood with his arms crossed stiffly. “See you, Dad.”

  He’d given a straight-lipped nod, one that had made his jaw muscle flick. Then, as if it had required all his effort to move, he’d stepped forward and extended a hand. “Well, we’ll see you next time, then,” had been his curt words.

  Fine way to send me off, Jason had thought. Lord, what did I do to make him resent me so?

  Later, while Rachel and Meagan had been making popcorn in the kitchen before the movie, Jason had overheard a quiet discussion between mother and daughter. “Do you like Uncle Jay?”

  “Of course, I do. He’s my brother-in-law.”

  “What’s a bruvver-in-law?”

  “It’s the brother of one’s spouse—er, husband. He is your daddy’s brother, which makes him my brother-in-law.”

  “You don’t got a h-hubsband,” Meagan had said, stumbling over the word. “Daddy’s in heaven.”

  “That’s true. But Uncle Jay is still my brother-in-law; he always will be.”

  “I wish he could live with us.”

  “What? Meaggie, where do you come up with these ideas?”

  He’d grinned to himself and quietly stepped away from the door unnoticed, tempted to hear how the conversation played out yet not wanting to embarrass Rachel with his eavesdropping. He’d wanted to get a drink of water but decided it could wait, so he’d gone back to making minor repairs around the house—oiling a squeaky door hinge, checking the furnace filter, and replacing a lightbulb on the front porch, whistling while he worked. Puttering had always been one of his loves, so finding a few things to do while Rachel worked in the kitchen had provided him a great deal of satisfaction. And, as he’d tinkered, he’d made an interesting observation: the house looked thoroughly clean and organized. It would seem Rachel Evans had turned a corner on her grief.

  When the movie ended and the closing credits began, Meagan’s mouth went as round as the moon as she yawned. “Well…?” she asked sleepily. “Did you like it?”

  Jason brought his chin to the top of her head and met Rachel’s gaze. In her arms, Johnny slept, unmoving. “It was the best movie I’ve ever seen,” he said, kissing Meagan’s downy head without taking his eyes off Rachel. He gave her a lazy smile, and she returned only a trace of one, then slid forward on the couch.

  “Well, it’s bedtime, kiddo,” she said in a near whisper, “and your uncle has a long drive home.”

  “Aww, why can’t he stay?” Meagan whined.

  Jason noticed a blush forming on her cheeks. “Because…he can’t.” She stood up, cradling Johnny in one arm, and held out the other for Meagan to take her hand. But the girl remained glued to Jason’s side. Rachel frowned and heaved a sigh of frustration. “Give your uncle a night-night hug.”

  “I want Uncle Jay to tuck me in.”

  Without hesitation, he rose, his knees cracking in the process, and extended his arms. “Come on, little Cinderella. Time for beddy-bye.”

  Ten minutes later, with the kids tucked in, Jason slumped into the plush sofa again, this time extending his arms over the back and propping sock-clad feet on the coffee table.

  Rachel stood there, shoulders squared, looking resolute. “Jay, it’s about time you went home.”

  “I thought we’d talk. You don’t mind, do you?”

  She swallowed hard and put her hands on her hips. “Yes.”

  He laughed. “Oh, come on. Sit.” He patted the spot beside him. “I promise not to bite.”

  A tremor touched her pretty lips. “I’m not one bit worried that you will.”

  “Good, then it shouldn’t hurt for you to sit for a few minutes. Take a load off.”

  “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing for the last hour and a half?”

  “Yeah, with a talkative four-year old who felt it her duty to inform me of every upcoming scene.”

  Now she succumbed to a smile. “She’s only seen that movie about ninety-seven times.”

  “I figured.” On impulse, he reached up and snagged her by the wrist, easily pulling her down next to him.

  “Jason!”

  “Relax, would you? Let’s have a brother-sister talk—with no mention of the you-know-what.”

  And that’s exactly what they did for at least the next hour, he telling her about his church, job, friends, and the grief group he attended, she talking about her church, the one he’d attended growing up, and her own group of friends, one named Allie in particular, and her goofy story about some comedy of errors at a bank drive-up window. They laughed a lot, and Rachel relaxed to the point of curling her legs up under her body and reclining against the back of the sofa with a knitted blanket over her lap.

  “It feels good, doesn’t it?” he said, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “Just sitting here talking, laughing, not caring if there’s a lull.”

  “Yeah,” she confessed.

  He clasped his hands at his belt buckle and angled his head at her. “See? No biting.”

  “You’re silly.”

  Another chuckle passed between them, but then a melancholy frown flitted across her features. “It’s been a whole year, Jay”—her voice went soft as a kitten’s—“and yet it feels like yesterday.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing all day.” Lord, I’m glad she mentioned it.

  “How could an entire year have slipped by already? We’ll soon be celebrating John Jr.’s first birthday.”

  “I’m coming to his party, invited or not.”

  This time, she tilted her head at him and revealed a tiny grin. “There’ll be no party crashing. You’ll get an invitation.”

  Another reflective, sixty-second lull passed. “Does it feel like things are getting better for you—I mean, less painful?”

  She considered his question with creased brow and narrowed eyes, opening her mouth, then closing it again. She reached up and scratched her forehead, disturbing a lovely little blonde lock. He took the opportunity to check out her perfect nose and lips while he was at it. “Little by little, I suppose,” she finally said. “Some days, I’m downright good, but then I feel almost guilty for it, like I should be spending every minute grieving, and if I quit, then I’m not honoring his memory like I should be.”

  “That’s not the way John would want you to feel.”

  “I know.”

  “Those are natural feelings you’re having. It becomes a journey of two steps forward, one step back, rather than three steps back and one forward. God’s mercies are new every morning. He gives us just what we need for each day.”

  “I’m finding that to be true.” She kept her gaze trained on him, her face only a foot or so from his. “You sure got smart over this last year.” This she said with a hint of playful
sarcasm, but then her expression turned thoughtful. “And dedicated—and unswerving in your faith. It’s quite remarkable to watch, especially when I consider what a hellion you were in high school and college.”

  “Loss will do that to a person—bring him to his knees or have him shaking his fist at God.” He harrumphed. “I preferred the former, you know? Looking back, I’m sure I gave my parents some giant headaches. ‘Star Football Player Goes on Drunken Binge, Destroys Mailboxes on Johnson Avenue.’ ’Member that newspaper headline? To this day, I don’t know how I kept my spot on the team. I should have gotten more than a two-week suspension from school. ’Course, I got myself into some, um…situations in college, too, but those are better left unmentioned. All I’ll say is this”—he cleared his throat and let out a light chuckle—“God’s grace and mercy extend far beyond our worthiness.”

  “Beautifully said.”

  He took a deep, hard swallow. “I don’t think John ever gave our dad a second of grief. I’d have given anything to be more like him, but he was a hard one to compete against. I never measured up to him.”

  With gaping mouth, Rachel stared at him, back straight and shoulders taut. “Are you kidding? John always looked up to you, even though you were younger. He admired you for your grit and carefree spirit. He used to say, ‘My brother is a pain in the hind end right now, but you watch; he’ll get his act together one day and be the most passionate of all of us about his faith.’ I’m the one who used to say, ‘Yeah, right, that’ll be the day that pigs fly.’” She gave him a playful pat on the arm. “No, I’m just kidding.”

  He gave a short-lived grin. “Thanks. I think.”

  She settled back again, their shoulders barely touching as they stared at the ceiling. “Your dad’s proud of you, Jay; he just doesn’t do a good job of showing it. He never gets very emotional, you know.”

  “No? I see emotions in him all the time, and they’re called anger and disappointment. John got all the grades and the honors, even landed the suit-’n-tie job.”

  “You were the star athlete,” she quickly countered. “And you own a very successful construction company.”

  “He was class president for four years—levelheaded, intelligent, and highly respected. Shoot, he went all the way to state with the college debate team. He could’ve run for president today and been elected.”

  “You were popular and got all the attention, especially from the girls.”

  “Ha! But he landed the one girl that really mattered, didn’t he?” He bumped against her playfully. In one fluid move, she slid out of reach and glanced at her watch. He might have stepped over the line with that one.

  “I should probably go, huh?” Hesitating for all of three seconds, he put his hands on his knees with purpose, intending to stand. But then, something impelled him to give her one last thorough look. If she hadn’t returned it, he might have ignored the urge to kiss her, stupid and impractical and poorly timed as it was, but he couldn’t resist, and so he decided to go for it—that old, carefree spirit John had envied rearing its monstrous head.

  In jagged stops and starts, he lowered his face to be level with hers, pausing just shy of her lips, thinking and then not thinking, waiting for her to come to her senses by ducking away from him, knowing that if she didn’t, it’d be too late for both of them. Ever so slowly, he tipped her chin upward, finding it most hard to ignore the thudding of his chest. Lord, God, help me; keep me from doing this. But if he thought the Lord was about to burst through the front door and throw him to the floor, he was an idiot through and through.

  At first, his mouth touched hers like a fine brush to its palette, gently flicking and skimming, almost like a whisper. Jason dared not move for fear of spooking her, so he kept his arms at his sides. But then, something happened. She made the first attempt to adjust her seating, turning to face him more squarely. He took the move as an invitation to deepen the kiss, and his lips swept over hers with fervor, like a passionate artist first putting brush to canvas. For long moments, they kissed, tasted, pressed, devoured, his arms gradually gathering her to him, his hands tenderly kneading the hollows of her back, tracing over her shoulder blades, exploring the sweet indentations of her spine. He knew that the moment she retreated, he would respect her by stopping, but she astounded him by wrapping her arms around his back and locking her hands.

  Jesus, I love her. I love her! he exclaimed in the depths of his soul, extending the kiss all the more, willing it to go on forever.

  I make all things beautiful in My time.

  The inner voice spoke precious truth into his spirit, but with it came a silent yet unmistakable nudge to end the kiss.

  Oh, he wanted to ignore that still, small tapping at his conscience, but he knew that if he did, he’d almost certainly face regrets. He’d been down that road and learned some valued lessons. Gently, he pulled away, and they stared at each other for what felt like hours, both of them taking in short, exhilarating breaths.

  “Well, now.” In rather slow motion, Rachel stood, her brow furrowed in confusion, her mouth, puffy from the pressure of his kisses, slightly agape. “That was—um—a little inappropriate, don’t you think?”

  ***

  Rachel’s erratic pulse set her in a state of momentary panic. She ran a hand through her hair, then put it to her throat and swallowed. Dear God, forgive me. I didn’t mean to let that happen. “You need to go,” she stated simply.

  Jason slowly rose, his steady, assuring gaze impaling her like an arrow to the heart. What have I done? My brother-in-law just kissed me, and, oh, God, I kissed him back. Her brain went into immediate tumult, and she spun her body around while trying to get her bearings. Coat. Jason’s coat. I must get it and then push him out the door.

  As if reading her thoughts, he clutched her by the arm and stopped her midway to the closet. “Settle down, would you, Rach? We did nothing inappropriate—maybe a little premature, but not inappropriate.” His hand was locked loosely around her forearm and seemed to sear the skin beneath her sweater sleeve, and his voice, soothing enough to calm a skittish cat, nearly made her cave. Yet she recovered in an instant and withdrew, looking down at the floor. “Just go. Now. Your coat’s in the closet.”

  “I know, and I’m going. But, listen—I want you to know, I’m starting to feel—”

  “Don’t!” she pleaded. “You feel nothing, you hear me? Nothing.” She said this with such fierce conviction that she barely recognized her own voice.

  He gave a light chuckle and touched her cheek. She took a giant step back and wrapped herself in a tight hug, biting down on her lip and blinking back the sudden urge to cry.

  “Aw, Rachel, don’t do that. I’m sorry if I’ve—no, I’m not sorry. Sheesh, I wanted to kiss you—and I think you wanted it, too. And now you’re having this inner battle about thoughts you don’t particularly enjoy entertaining.” He dared to come close again, then bent down to her level, his piercing, dark eyes searching her face. “Am I right?”

  “I am not entertaining any thoughts about you, Jason Evans, nor will I. Now, please go.”

  “If it makes any difference, I’m scared, too, Rach. But I’m not about to let it keep me from pursuing what I think is right. What if the Lord is telling us to consider this—this—”

  “He’s not!” she exclaimed with certainty. “He would never do that. You’re my brother-in-law.”

  “Yes, so that makes me the enemy?”

  “It makes you…untouchable.”

  “Does it? Think about it. We’ve always been great friends. This is just taking our friendship to the next level.”

  “John would hate that!” One stray tear found a path down her cheek. He reached up and brushed it away with his thumb.

  “John’s not here, honey, and I think he’d be glad to know I was taking care of you.”

  “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me…or feeling responsible.”

  “I don’t,” he whispered in haste. “I feel a lot more than that.”
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br />   She bit hard on her lower lip, hoping the pain would distract her from this sudden surge of emotions. More tears threatened, but she chased them back, raising her chin now to look him square-on. “You—can’t. It would be wrong because, well, because he knew.”

  This tiny declaration had him squinting down at her and giving his head a mild shake of confusion. “What are you talking about? Knew what?”

  She swallowed down what felt like a jagged rock. “I told him about the kiss—our kiss—before you left on your ski trip.”

  “You what?” he whispered in a disbelieving tone. “Why would you do that? He didn’t need to know.”

  “We had a fight about money—a big fight.”

  “He told me that much, that you’d had a fight.”

  “And during our arguing I blurted out how we’d kissed. It was awful of me, I know.” She covered her face and dropped her chin to her chest. “I told him that you and I had at one time…felt things for each other.”

  “What? But we—that was way before, Rachel. I mean, yeah, John and I both had crushes on you all through school, but once you settled on John, that sealed it for me—except for that stupid kiss in the barn.” He let a mild curse slip off his tongue, and she looked at him. He winced and looked away, his eyes coming to rest on something across the room. “I wish you hadn’t told him. Man.”

  “I was pregnant and irrational,” she cried. “And he made some thoughtless remark about my being fat or something, I don’t know. It hurt, and I just wanted to lash out, so I did—in the worst way.”

  At that admission, his brows flickered a little. “I thought you made a very radiant pregnant lady.”

  “Pssh. On the best of days, maybe.”

  His slight smile faded as he grew thoughtful. “That day—out on the slopes—he made a rash remark, and it made me so stinking mad.”