I have to do it. I have no choice, he told himself. “Now, Lord, help me keep my word to myself, to Rachel, and to You,” he muttered under his breath.
His dad padded out in his worn slippers, pajama pants, and T-shirt just as Jason stuffed his cell phone into his hip pocket. “Did I hear you talking to someone?” he asked.
“I was checking with Rachel to see if I could spend some time with Meagan today. Thought I’d take her sledding.”
His dad nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Rachel’s not going?”
“Nope. This is strictly a Meagan morning. Besides, Johnny’s arm—you know.” No way would he be spilling the beans about his conversation with Rachel.
“Meaggie’ll like that. She needs a man in her life.”
“She’s got you and Mitch, too.”
“True, but you’re the one with all the energy,” his dad said, bringing his mug to his lips and looking over the rim at Jason. He took a sip and lowered it. “Take her to Ridgemont. That’s a great hill. I used to take you boys there, remember?”
“You know I do.” Memories of Ridgemont ran deep.
His dad grinned, took another sip of coffee and gazed out through the window over the sink. “You boys used to whoop and holler all the way down that hill. You’d stand up and try all kinds of daredevil tricks when you were only about five and seven. Your mom would’ve had my hide if she’d known I let you pull those stunts. That’s when I knew I had to start teaching you the basics of skiing. Turned out you were both excellent, but you probably had more natural talent than John and me put together.”
Was his dad actually praising him? Jason walked to the cabinet for a mug, poured himself a cup of black brew, and waited to see if the compliments would continue.
“Yep. As you know, your grandpap taught me. Back then, we didn’t have access to the ski slopes we do today, just little hills, but it was enough to get the ski bug in my blood. Pap taught me to love the outdoors.”
“So, that’s where you get it from, except you’re into fishing and hunting, too, and that’s not me.”
“Well, everybody’s different, I s’pose.” His face went into reflective mode. “I know I compared you and John. Never meant to, but your mom brought that to my attention the other day. I’m sorry for placing blame and showing favoritism.”
“You already apologized, Dad. No need to go over it again.”
“I know, I know, but I suspect there were times I thought you could’ve done a little better in school and such. You made a few choices out in the world your mom and I didn’t approve of, and…I don’t know. I just wanted the best for both you boys.”
What he was trying to say was that John had been the more academic and better-behaved of the two but that he was sorry for comparing them. Jason would take it. He stepped closer and gave his dad a slight punch in the arm. “You and Mom did good by us, Dad. Your prayers paid off.”
“Well, your mom spent more time on her knees than me. I just stood at the window and watched for your car, hoping you’d miss the mailbox on your way in.”
“Oh, man! Sorry I brought you guys so much grief. Thank God for His protective grace.”
His dad puffed out his whiskered cheeks and whistled. “You aren’t kiddin’. He had to come up with an extra measure of it for you.”
They chuckled, and, as they continued sipping their coffee, Jason said a silent prayer of thanks to God for restoring their relationship.
At eleven o’clock, Jason pulled up at Rachel’s and saw the pathetic path she had shoveled down the driveway and along the sidewalk. His first thought was to ask why she hadn’t used John’s snowblower, but then he reminded himself that she wasn’t his responsibility. She had to get by without his interference. Moreover, what she couldn’t do on her own, she could hire somebody to do—if she could get past her stubbornness.
She answered the door after the first ring of the doorbell, Meagan right on her heels and jumping with glee at the sight of him. He kept his hands deep in his pockets to fight the temptation to pull the woman into his arms. “Uncle Jay, you came!” Meagan shouted as she wrapped his legs in a bear hug.
“Well, of course I came, sugar plum. I keep my promises.” He tapped her on the nose, taking care to avoid any undue eye contact with Rachel. So far, so good. “You ready?”
“Yep! Look, I even gots my snow pants on. Mommy said to wait till you got here to put on my coat.”
“That was wise.” He kept his eyes trained on the child as she scampered into the dining room and grabbed her coat, which was draped over a chair. Across the room, Johnny stood, teetering, at the table, still not terribly surefooted but doing well for a kid with a cast on his arm. “He’s holding his own, I see.”
“Oh, Johnny? Yes, he is,” Rachel said with a practiced smile. “I can’t let my eyes wander off him for a second, though, or something ends up toppling, either him or a piece of furniture.”
They both laughed, albeit with a touch of discomfort. Clearly, their phone conversation earlier that morning had made some sort of an impact on her. He just wasn’t quite sure what kind.
She stood in the doorway, and he couldn’t imagine she wasn’t freezing-cold. Still, she held her ground and didn’t invite him in—not that he expected her to.
“I suppose you saw what a rotten job of shoveling I did,” she suddenly blurted out.
“What? No, not at all. Well, I guess I did wonder why you didn’t use the blower.”
“It quit working.”
“Oh.” On the tip of his tongue was an offer to have a look at it when he returned Meagan, but he resisted. “You should probably take it to a repair shop. Ask your dad or mine to suggest someone reputable.”
“I—I plan to do that. Thanks.”
“Coming, Meaggie?” he asked, still avoiding eye contact at all costs. Oh, man, he hated this strained awkwardness.
“Yep!” Meagan came bounding into the room, oblivious to any disharmony between her mother and uncle. “Mommy, do my mittens.”
Rachel quickly bent down to stuff a mitten onto each of Meagan’s hands, then put a kiss on one of her rosy cheeks before zipping up her coat. “You have fun with Uncle Jay, and mind your manners, okay?”
“Does she have to?” Jason asked, his first attempt that day to make her laugh.
She forced a smile and gave her daughter a little push toward the door. “You guys have fun.”
“Oh, we will! Won’t we, Uncle Jay?”
Finally, he let his gaze rest on Rachel’s oval face and her big, blue eyes, which looked damp in the corners.
“I’ll have her back in no time.”
She forced another smile and looked down. “Great. Did you…uh, want me to fix some soup or something for when you get back? Um…you could take it to go, if you’d like.”
Soup to go? “Oh, no, don’t bother, but thanks. I’ll take Meaggie to her favorite restaurant after we finish sledding. I mean, if it’s all right with you.”
“Sledding?” Meagan let out a whoop.
Rachel nodded. “Well, okay. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”
“I’ll just drop her off in the driveway. I’ll give a little honk. How’s that?”
“A honk. Oh.”
He wished he had a hidden camera in his jacket lapel to catch her shocked expression. No doubt about it, he’d caught her off guard with his laissez-faire manner.
Good. She needed to realize he’d meant business when he’d promised her time and space. Apparently, she didn’t need him, and he planned to give her plenty of time to reassure herself of that fact.
Chapter 22
In the days and weeks that followed, Rachel fell into a routine of sorts. After the holidays, Meagan’s preschool resumed, and Rachel and three other mothers of children in Meagan’s class set up a car pool. This eliminated the need to get Johnny all bundled up every time Meagan had to go to school. However, on the days when it was Rachel’s turn to drive, it also meant carting five children, including Joh
nny, to school and back. More times than she could count, Rachel thanked God for the brilliant engineer who’d invented the minivan.
Sharing the responsibility of transportation with the other mothers also offered her the opportunity to stay at home some days, freeing her to complete a few household tasks while her daughter was in school and Johnny napped. And she had even more time to herself and for Johnny when Meagan started attending class four times a week instead of three. Her teacher, Mrs. Beasley, had identified her as a precocious, fast-learning, outgoing student, and she’d suggested the expanded schedule as a way to provide more stimulating opportunities. Already Meagan had begun associating letters and numbers, and the extra day allowed the teacher more time for individual support. At first, Rachel hadn’t welcomed the idea, not wishing to push her daughter unnecessarily. But, when Allie Ferguson had encouraged her, claiming Meagan needed to be challenged, she’d gone along with it.
Another change came about when Allie and Rachel joined a women’s Bible study at church. Feeling ready to branch out, Rachel had decided to leave the grief group, which met on the same night as the Bible study. Weeks ago, she hadn’t been prepared to leave the grief group behind and launch into a study where most of the women were happily married, save for a few divorcées, older widows, and happy-to-be single ladies. But, since then, something had helped her turn the corner on her insecurities and fears. Maybe it was the realization that she’d made it through the year of “firsts” without John and survived. Regardless of the reason, it felt as if day by day, sometimes even moment by moment, she was gaining back a tiny portion of her identity, discovering afresh who she was apart from her husband and coming to believe that perhaps—just perhaps—she would make it through her second year of widowhood, as well.
The Bible study focused on living a Christ-centered life. It involved daily readings, which forced Rachel to be more disciplined about delving into God’s Word routinely. As a result, she began to develop a closer walk with the Lord. She enjoyed making new friendships and reading her Bible, the one Jason had given her for Christmas. Life held so many uncertainties, but, lately, she’d been more aware than ever of God’s faithful love and unfailing grace. Yes, she still battled loneliness, but she’d been learning some new methods to pull herself more quickly out of the depths of despair.
Though she shouldn’t have expected it or even hoped for it, she’d been almost certain that Jason would have called her by now. But then, maybe he’d been waiting for her to make the first move. Things between them were shaky at best. On New Year’s Day, when he’d told her he was ready to cool things for a while, he’d had a certain air of aloofness about him. Even now, she couldn’t be sure how to interpret his rationale. Had he intended it to be a final good-bye, a “Never mind; I didn’t mean it when I said I loved you”?
She couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him on a regular basis, even if that would contradict what she’d asked of him. But even Meagan had started noticing his absence, inquiring as to when he planned to come again—and asking if she could call him. Of course, Rachel had denied her request, fearing Jason might think the idea had been hers. Oh, the whole matter threw her into a state of perplexity. On the one hand, she wanted to see him, and on the other, she knew doing so might encourage the profound feelings of affection she refused to admit even existed. Besides, how could she allow her heart to entertain so deep a feeling when she’d already decided that doing so would dishonor her husband’s memory?
Then came a Friday afternoon in early February. Rachel had just picked up Meagan and three other four-year-olds from preschool and made the rounds to their respective homes. Between them and Johnny, the car had been abuzz with childish chatter, giggles, and something close to mayhem. Now, the quietness of home was a welcome and pleasant relief, despite Meaggie’s ongoing drivel and Johnny’s constant whining. His lunch was over, and she had only to change his diaper and put him down for his nap.
“And then, Miss Beasley said that I could have a treat, ’cause I was the one who had the bestest writing,” Meagan said, running into Rachel’s back end when she bent to retrieve the baby’s stuffed lion and toss it into the toy bin.
“Mrs. Beasley,” Rachel corrected her gently. “She’s married, remember? So, you had good handwriting today?”
“The bestest in the class.”
“The best.”
“I know.”
“What else happened today?” she asked, trying to be attentive, even though she had dinner to plan, Bible study reading to finish, and vacuuming to do. She bent to pick up another toy.
“Nothing. Oh, ’cept Robert, that loud boy, made a face at me today. Miss—uh, Mrs. Beasley says it’s because he likes me. Blech!” Meagan screwed up her mouth in a comical way, and Rachel couldn’t help but laugh.
“Let’s go upstairs so I can change dirty-diaper boy. You can keep talking.” Rachel swept her son into her arms and headed for the stairs, Meagan scampering ahead of her.
“So, this Robert,” Rachel said in the nursery while removing Johnny’s diaper and wincing at the odor. “Besides liking you, as Mrs. Beasley says, what other reason might he have had for making a face at you?”
“I dunno. Maybe ’cause I did a little squiggly line with my crayon on his paper.”
She glanced down at Meagan while wiping Johnny’s bottom. “Meagan Joy, that wasn’t nice. Why would you do that?”
“Well, he wouldn’t share the paste, which Miss Beasley said he had to do. He’s a meanie, Mother, so I accidentally made that purple line.”
Mother? Rachel arched one eyebrow. “Accidentally, huh? Well, after this, you treat his property with respect. If you have a problem, talk to Mrs. Beasley. And what’s with this ‘Mother’ stuff? You’ve never called me that before.”
“That’s what Merline Thompson calls her mommy. She always says, ‘Mother lets me watch the Disney channel until eight o’clock every night’ and ‘Mother works for the dentist’ and ‘Mother makes me peanut butter and jelly sammiches whenever I want them,’ and stuff like that. Merline wears very pretty dresses every day, Mother, and a diamond necklace that sparkles real nice all the way across the room.”
“Oh, really?” Rachel stifled a snicker. “Well, I’m sure they’re not real diamonds.”
“Merline told me she took that necklace right out of her mother’s jewelry box. Do you have a diamond necklace I could wear? Also, I want to wear a dress next time. Like maybe that red velvet one I weared on Christmas day? Can I, Mother?”
“We’ll see.”
“That way, Merline won’t be the prettiest girl in school all the time.”
“Oh, my goodness, Meaggie. You shouldn’t be worried about such things at four years of age—or at any age, for that matter.”
“Know how many months till I’m five?” Meagan asked, changing the subject. As usual, Rachel could barely keep up with the child’s nonstop chatter.
“Well, let’s see here,” she said, securing a new diaper on Johnny as he kicked and flailed, waving his arms and nearly smacking her in the chin with his cast.
“February, March, April, May, June, July!” Meagan recited, using her fingers to count off the months. “That’s”—she studied her hand—“one, two, three, four, five, six months!”
“Since when do you know the months of the year?” Rachel asked, pulling up the baby’s pants and lifting him into her arms. How heavy he’d gotten! His cast didn’t help matters, she supposed. Two more weeks, and the thing could come off, providing the X-rays indicated the arm had healed enough.
“Mrs. Beasley shows us that number thing every day what gots all the months on it and so today I just decided I was goin’ to learn the months by my heart.”
“Just like that?” Perhaps her daughter could be termed precocious after all.
“Yep, just like that!” She started reciting them in order in a singsong fashion while Rachel kissed Johnny on the cheek and laid him in his crib, covering him with his favorite blanket and then popping
his pacifier into his mouth. Despite Meagan’s racket, his eyes were heavy.
“Okay, nice job,” Rachel whispered, putting a finger to her lips, “but now, we have to be quiet. Come on.” She guided the chatterbox out of the room and closed the door behind them. “Time for lunch, then a nap for you, as well.”
“Aww, when do I get to stop taking naps?” she asked with a groan.
“Oh, when you’re about ten or so,” Rachel teased, urging her toward the stairs.
“Huh?”
“Shh, come on.”
Meagan talked all through lunch, taking intermittent slurps of chicken noodle soup and munching on her crackers, and Rachel would have missed the light tapping sound on the living room window if her daughter hadn’t finally paused long enough to take a drink of milk.
Thinking a bird or a squirrel was responsible for the noise, she peeked around the corner and nearly fell over at the sight of Jason peering through the glass.
She rushed to the front door and threw it open wide. “What are you doing knocking on my window?”
He looked only a little sheepish and a whole lot handsome in his leather bomber jacket and the scarf and gloves she’d bought him for Christmas. His dark eyes made her dizzy, and she had to hang tightly to the door to maintain her balance and composure as he picked his way through the shrubbery on his way to the front step. A swath of dark hair fell across his forehead, and he swept it back before setting his gaze on her.
“Didn’t want to ring the doorbell since I figured it might be naptime. Is it?” He looked over her shoulder, and his expression brightened as Meagan raced out from the kitchen, her footsteps pounding on the floor as she flew past Rachel and made a giant leap into Jason’s arms, yipping like an overexuberant pup. How Rachel admired her daughter for her total lack of abandon when it came to seeing her uncle—the way she allowed her face to glimmer with excitement, her voice to peal with unadulterated glee, and her arms to hug his neck so tightly his face turned purplish from all the squeezing. Rachel stepped back to watch the mutual adoration with something close to envy, folding her arms for lack of anything else to do with them.
Tender Vow Page 22