Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014

by Joyce Livingston, Gail Sattler, Joyce Livingston

  “He never left you, Eleanor. You left Him. He’s always loved you.”

  Eleanor ducked her head shyly. “Then He’s the only one.”

  “You really don’t think Bob loves you?”

  “I wish he did. I’ve never stopped loving him.”

  “Have you told him you love him?”

  She shook her head. “No; he’d probably laugh at me.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “He doesn’t think I know the true meaning of love, and he’s probably right. True love has eluded me most of my life. Or maybe I avoided it.”

  “So rather than take a chance on being hurt, you’ve never allowed yourself to be loved?”

  Eleanor thought long and hard before answering. “I never realized it, but now that you’ve asked me and I’ve had time to think it over, my answer would have to be yes. I’ve gone out of my way to avoid loving and being loved. My parents, the people who should have loved me more than anyone else in the world, hurt me more than I can tell you. I remember vowing, when I was still a very small child, that I would never let myself be put in a position where someone could hurt me.”

  Her eyes welling up with tears, Eleanor gazed into Charity’s kind face. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but I want so much to be loved, Charity. I long to be madly, passionately in love with Bob, feel his kisses upon my lips, and share my life with him. But I’ve made such a mess of things. I’m sure in Bob’s eyes I’m the most undesirable woman he knows, and God must think I’m nothing but a hopeless twit.”

  Charity responded with a chuckle. “If you could have one wish, Eleanor, what would it be?”

  Eleanor’s eyes widened. “One wish? Oh, that would be easy. If I had one wish, it would be that Bob would love me, not as a friend or as a business associate like Everett did, but really love me with an all-consuming love that takes my breath away. The kind Robert Browning had for Elizabeth Barrett. The kind he wrote about in his lovely poetry.”

  “And could you love him like that?”

  Smiling, and without hesitation, Eleanor answered, her heart soaring at the thought. “Oh, yes, Charity. I could love him like that. I think. . .” She paused with a slight giggle. “I even think, with a little help and encouragement from Bob, I could be a good mother to his children.”

  “Well, you have truly changed. This Eleanor is nothing like the Eleanor whom Faith escorted to the Memory Place and Hope took to visit the Rachette home.”

  “I know. That was before you and Hope and Faith rolled my life out before me and I realized how stupid I’ve been.”

  “Would you like to renew your faith in God?”

  “Is that possible? I’ve been away from Him for so long.”

  Faith took Eleanor’s hand in hers and gave it a slight squeeze. “It’s not only possible, but nothing pleases God more than to see one of His children coming back to Him.”

  “I so want to get things right with God. I want to love and serve Him like Bob does.”

  “Be careful what you say. That could mean a complete change of your lifestyle. You may not be as ready as you think you are.”

  Eleanor began to weep openly. “Though my life is filled with worldly things, my heart is empty and I’m so alone. I am ready to change, Charity. I just hope it’s not too late.”

  “It’s never too late to change.” Charity reached out and stroked Eleanor’s hair. “You’ve seen what your life was, you’ve seen what it is now, and you’ve seen what it might have been. Through all of this, you’ve come to realize the true meaning of love. God is love and He loves you. Never forget it.”

  “Thanks to you, Hope, and Faith, I really have learned the true meaning of love.” Eleanor wrapped her arms around Charity and hugged her tight. “Thank you, Charity. Thank you for your patience and understanding—and for all you’ve done.”

  Smiling and pushing away from her grasp, Charity slowly backed away. “I’m leaving you now, Eleanor. You no longer have need of me.”

  Before Eleanor could blink, Charity was gone.

  Eleven

  Voices. She could hear voices. Eleanor strained at her heavy eyelids, struggling to force them open, but they refused to cooperate.

  “Looks like she’s coming around,” an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere nearby.

  Willing her eyes to open, Eleanor peered through the tiny slits and found a man in a white lab coat peering at her. Where was she?

  “It’s all right,” the man said in a gentle voice. “You’re in the emergency room at Newport General Hospital. I’m Dr. Fryer. You’ve been in an accident. How do you feel?”

  “Fine. Just a little surprised to be here.”

  “Anything hurt?” the doctor asked as he checked her pupils. “Besides the bump on your head, that is,” he added when she touched the small knot and flinched.

  Eleanor moved her extremities carefully, then confidently. “No. What happened to me?”

  “The officer who worked your case said your car was hit broadside when you pulled out of a parking lot. You’re lucky to be alive. Other than that nasty bump on your head, a few external scuffs from the air bag, and a bloody nose, you seem to be okay.”

  Eleanor shuddered as the dreadful scene came flooding back into her mind. “I—I remember now. What about the people in the other car? Was anyone hurt?”

  He shook his head. “Just shaken up a bit. No real injuries. We checked them out and sent them on home. Nice couple.”

  “I’m so glad they weren’t injured.” Momentarily forgetting about the diamond watch on her wrist, Eleanor glanced about the room in search of a clock. “How long have I been here?”

  “Not long. How many fingers am I holding up?”

  “Two.”

  “Good.” The doctor gave her arm a slight pat. “Not a very pleasant way to spend Christmas Eve. Oh, by the way, your husband is in the waiting room. Once I’m convinced you’re fully conscious and there are no more apparent injuries, I’ll release you and he can take you home.”

  Husband?

  Both hers and the doctor’s gaze went to the little curtain around the cubicle as it was pushed aside and Bob entered, his face filled with concern. Leaning over her, he clasped her hand in his. “Oh, El, I’ve been so worried about you.”

  Eleanor stared up into his handsome face. Dear, sweet Bob. She should have known it was he. “How did you know I was here?”

  His brows rose, as if in surprise. “The officer who called me said you’d been asking for me.”

  “I had?”

  The doctor chuckled. “At least a dozen times. You kept repeating your husband’s name over and over, asking someone to call him.”

  “I’m not her husband,” Bob said, seeming embarrassed. “She–she’s my boss.”

  “I’m sorry. I assumed by the way she begged us to call you right away. . .” The doctor turned to Eleanor with a puzzled expression. “You’re wearing a wedding ring—”

  “Her husband passed away several years ago,” Bob inserted quickly before she could answer.

  Dr. Fryer eyed first one and then the other, as if thoroughly confused. “But you’ll be the one taking her home? Right?”

  “If she wants me to.”

  “I guess that decision is up to her.” The doctor motioned toward the bandage on Eleanor’s head. “With the kind of blow you sustained in the accident, you may find yourself a little light-headed at times. You shouldn’t be alone for at least twenty-four hours. There is someone to take care of you at home, isn’t there?”

  “No. I live alone.”

  “Don’t worry about her, Doctor. I’ll see to it someone is with her,” Bob volunteered, much to Eleanor’s surprise.

  Dr. Fryer picked up her chart from the nightstand. “In that case, I’ll go fill out the necessary papers, sign her release, and the two of you can be on your way.”

  Once he was gone, Eleanor gazed up into Bob’s worried face. “It’s Christmas Eve, Bob. You can’t leave your family to take care of me.�
��

  “I’m not going to leave my family, El. You’re coming home with me.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Our home is small and crowded, but nothing would make us happier than to share it with you.”

  “Your children won’t want me around. They hate me.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

  Bob frowned. “Why would you say something like that, El? You’ve barely met my children. They’re sweet kids. Of course they’ll want you around.”

  The scene she had witnessed with Charity in the Rachette home filled her mind. “No, they won’t. Bob Jr. says I’m mean, and Megan thinks I don’t like little children.”

  Bob backed away, his face contorted with amazement. “El? Why would you make such a statement? You’ve never spent any time with my children.”

  “I—I just know it,” she answered, afraid to mention the visions, dreams, or whatever it was she had seen with Faith, Hope, and Charity.

  “I’m glad you’re going to have a chance to get to know my family. I know you’ve never liked children, but these kids of mine are really special. They—”

  “I will like them, Bob,” Eleanor inserted, “even love them—because they’re your children. That makes them special. But I don’t want to be a burden. Are you sure you want to take me home with you? Your family won’t be upset at having me there?”

  “All taken care of,” Dr. Fryer announced, entering the cubicle with a smile. “You’re free to go. Try to get a good night’s rest, take it easy all day tomorrow, and by tomorrow evening at this time, other than a possible black eye and a sore nose, you should be nearly back to normal. I’ll need to see you in four days to take out those stitches.”

  He handed Bob a small plastic bag. “Most of the pharmacies are closed for the holidays so here are a few pain pills, in case she needs them. Call me if she experiences anything unusual.”

  Bob shoved the bag into his pocket then eagerly shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you, Dr. Fryer, for taking such good care of El, and Merry Christmas.”

  The doctor nodded to each of them. “Merry Christmas to the two of you. An orderly will be here in a moment with a wheelchair.”

  Eleanor flinched at his words. “Wheelchair? Why? I can walk just fine.”

  Dr. Fry grinned. “Hospital procedure.” Then, turning to Bob, he suggested, “Why don’t you go ahead and bring your car around to the Emergency Room entrance. The orderly will meet you there.”

  Bob glanced at Eleanor. “But—”

  “She’ll be fine,” he assured Bob. “Go on. Get your car.”

  With a heart overflowing with love and gratitude, Eleanor watched him go. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be spending Christmas with Bob and his family. Just the thought of it made her giddy.

  “Sorry,” he told her as they turned into the driveway of his modest home. “I know my old car is nothing like that new sports car of yours, but I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable.” After turning off the engine and racing around to open her door, Bob slipped an arm about her waist, assisted her from the passenger seat, and the two of them started up the sidewalk toward his house.

  “Your car was just fine and quite comfortable, Bob.” Eleanor shrugged. “After the accident, I doubt that car of mine is even drivable.”

  Bob inserted the key in the lock, pushed open the front door and, immediately, the two were surrounded by smiling faces. “El,” he said proudly, leading her to stand in front of a small Christmas tree filled with lights and homemade decorations, “these are my children. Kari, Bob Jr., and Megan.” Stooping, he picked up a darling little girl who was not much more than a baby. “And this is our precious little Janelle.”

  “She’s beautiful.” It was all Eleanor could do to keep from snatching the adorable child from his arms.

  “And spoiled,” Bob Jr. volunteered, grinning.

  Frowning, Bob glanced around the room. “Where’s Ginny?”

  “I’m here, Daddy.”

  Eager to meet Ginny after hearing so much about her, Eleanor turned toward the kitchen door, muffling a gasp when the girl appeared in the doorway. Though frail, Ginny was quite lovely, with long, sandy red hair and pale blue eyes, which, to Eleanor, seemed sad. But what set her apart from any other girl her age Eleanor had ever seen was the bright pinkish red blotch on the girl’s lower right cheek. It appeared even larger and darker than she had expected. The sight took her breath away.

  Bob eagerly took the girl’s hand and tugged her into the small, but cozy living room. “Honey, I want you to meet Mrs. Scrooge.”

  Forcing a smile, Eleanor fought back tears as she gazed at the young girl’s face. “Hello, Ginny. It’s so nice to meet you. Your father talks about you and your siblings all the time.”

  The corners of Ginny’s mouth tipped upward, but Eleanor could tell her heart wasn’t in it. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Scrooge.”

  “Mrs. Scrooge was involved in a car accident this evening. That’s why she’s wearing that bandage on her head. The doctor said she shouldn’t be left alone for the next twenty-four hours. Since she has no one at home to take care of her, she’s going to be staying with us,” Bob told his children with an infectious smile. Then motioning toward Kari, he announced, “She’ll be staying in Bob Jr.’s room. Perhaps you and Ginny would like to go change the sheets and freshen the room up a bit.”

  Without further instruction, the two girls disappeared up the stairway.

  Bob Jr. seated himself on the corner of the sofa. “Looks like we’re gonna miss the candlelight service, huh, Dad?”

  Bob quickly glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, Bobby.”

  Bobby shrugged. “It’s okay. We can go next year.”

  “It’s my fault,” Eleanor said quickly, not wanting Bob to take the blame. “If I hadn’t been so careless and had my mind on other things, perhaps I would have seen that car coming and avoided the accident. I asked the doctor to call your father, and he was kind enough to come to the hospital, then he invited me here. But if I’ll be in the way—”

  “Nonsense!” Bob shook his finger at her. “You could never be in the way. We’re glad to have you here.” He led her to a small chair in front of the fireplace and waited until she was seated. “I’m sure the children have already eaten. You sit right here while I go warm us a bowl of the soup Kari made. It’s a tradition at our house to have her creamy potato soup on Christmas Eve.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.” Eleanor started to rise, but Bob took hold of her arm and prevented it.

  “No bother at all. I’m sure you’re as hungry as I am. I’ll be right back.”

  “Are you hurting, Mrs. Scrooge?” Megan asked, her little voice filled with concern. “I could ask Daddy to get you an aspirin.”

  “No, Megan, I’m fine. Just a bit sore, but thank you for asking.” Eleanor smiled at the child. “Is that your dolly over there?”

  “Uh-huh. My daddy gave her to me for my birthday a long time ago.” Megan hurried to retrieve the doll from the sofa.

  Eleanor reached out her hand. “May I hold it? I never had a doll when I was your age.”

  Megan placed the worn-out doll in Eleanor’s lap then scooted into the chair beside her, her big blue eyes rounded. “You never had a dolly?”

  Fingering the doll, Eleanor’s thoughts went to her childhood. Her father had always said dolls were silly and too expensive, and he refused to buy them for her, although he always found the money to buy beer and cigarettes. “No, not until I was much older and could afford to buy them for myself. I have a huge collection of dolls at my house. Big, beautiful dolls in elegant dresses. Would you like to see them sometime?”

  Megan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, could I? I love dolls. When I get big, I’m going to have a whole bedroom full of dolls.”

  “What about you, Bobby?” Eleanor asked, eager to engage the boy in conversation. “What sort of things do you like? Video games? Skateboards? Bicycling?”

  Bobby grinned, and she could see sh
e’d struck a chord.

  “I like all those things. I’m hoping to get a bicycle for Christmas, but I don’t think my father can afford one.” He shrugged. “But that’s okay. I know he needs to save his money so Ginny can get her birthmark removed. That’s more important than a bicycle.”

  His unselfish attitude surprised Eleanor. “You don’t mind going without a bicycle?”

  “Naw. My neighbor lets me ride his sometimes.”

  She turned toward little Janelle who was now sitting on the floor playing with a pile of alphabet blocks, stacking them up, clapping and laughing with glee when they all came tumbling down. “What about your little sister? What does she want for Christmas?”

  Megan sat down on the floor and kissed her little sister on the cheek. “I think she wants a doll, too, and maybe a new dress.”

  Eleanor eyed the simple, calico frock the child was wearing. “Wouldn’t you like a new dress, too? Maybe something frilly, with lace, satin ribbon, and flowers on it?”

  “That would be nice.” Megan scooted past Janelle and took a book from a small basket on the floor. Then, without being invited, she climbed onto Eleanor’s lap, wiggling around to make herself comfortable. At first, Eleanor didn’t know how to respond, but as the little girl snuggled in close, she allowed herself to wrap her arms about Megan.

  Megan tilted her shining face upward. “Would you read this to me?”

  Hesitantly, she took the book from Megan’s hands. “I’m sure I’m not very good at reading children’s stories, but I’ll do my best.”

  “It’s the story of the little lamb who wandered off and Jesus had to go find him,” Megan told her simply. “It’s my favorite story.”

  “I see.” Eleanor opened the book and began to read. “Once upon a time, Fluffy, the littlest lamb in the flock, decided it was such a beautiful day he would take a walk all by himself, without any of the other lambs, though the shepherd had told them never to venture out by themselves, for fear they would get lost.”

  Megan sat as still as a brook on a windless day, listening intently as Eleanor continued to read, occasionally lifting her little head long enough to give Eleanor a winsome smile. “I love that story,” she said when the last page had been read and the book closed.