“Take care of Number One,” she inserted quickly, though it broke her heart to say it.
“Right! I didn’t think you liked action movies,” he said as the credits finished and the story started.
I hate them! “They’re okay. Some of them have good story lines.” If you can weed them out from all the car chases and noise!
Before long, Randy was so into the movie, he barely seemed to notice she was sitting beside him. Will this thing ever end?
When the movie ended, Randy took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. She held her breath; sure he was going to say something romantic.
“Is there any lemon meringue pie left?”
Men! She wanted to pick up one of the sofa pillows and pelt him like she had seen Shonna do to Buck, but instead she smiled sweetly. Maybe the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach after all. Hopefully, Chatalaine is a lousy cook! “Sure. I’ll cut you a piece.”
Randy finished his piece of pie with an appreciative sigh. “That’s the best pie I’ve ever tasted.”
“Think you can sleep on a full stomach?” she asked him as she pointed to the clock on the fireplace. “It’s after eleven.”
He let out a big yawn, stretching his arms first one way, then the other. “Oh, yeah. I’m so tired I could sleep standing up. I can’t believe how far we walked this morning.”
They turned out the lights and made their way up the stairs to their room. This time, Randy did not question their sleeping arrangements. By the time Sylvia had washed her face and slipped into her gown, he was already sitting on his side of the bed in his pajamas. “Is that a new gown?”
She nodded. “Yes. Do you like it?” I had it on last night. Were you so worried about sharing the bed with me you didn’t even notice?
“Yeah, I like. What happened to those—”
“Granny gowns, as you used to call them? They’re in the back of my closet. I’m thinking of giving them to Good Will. They’re all cotton and would make wonderful rags,” she added with a chuckle. “I’m making some changes in my life, too, Randy. Getting rid of my granny gowns and fuzzy slippers is one of them.”
He gave her a quick once-over. “Well, you’re a knockout in that gown. You should wear that color more often.”
She moved across the bed on her knees and began her massage routine. Again, Randy did not protest. He just leaned over and let her willing fingers work on him again. “This has been a good day,” he finally said when she moved back to her side of the bed. “Thank you for it.”
“You’re welcome.” Giving him a playful grin, she slid under the covers and flipped onto her side, facing away from him, praising the Lord. Randy seemed mystified by her calmness, which is exactly what she wanted. “Good night, Randy.”
“Good night, Syl.”
Nine
They awoke the next morning to another perfect Dallas day. After a hardy breakfast, they loaded into the car and headed for the zoo.
“Do you have any idea when I last visited a zoo?” Randy asked when they stopped at the gorilla section.
“I remember exactly. You were pushing DeeDee in her stroller, so I’d say that was about seventeen years ago. As I recall, you tilted that stroller up onto its rear wheels and jogged around the alligator pit, making motor sounds while she giggled and clapped her hands.”
“Then, when she fell asleep, I carried Aaron on my shoulders while you pushed the stroller.”
She threw her head back with a raucous laugh. “Poor little Buck! We made him wear that harness thing your mother bought so he wouldn’t get lost. Remember how he hated that thing?”
“Do I! I finally had to take it off him. I couldn’t stand his crying. Then he complained because we held onto both his hands.”
“I guess—sometimes—we were overprotective.”
“Hey, you!” Randy made a face at one of the gorillas, sticking his thumbs in his ears and wiggling his fingers at the animal.
Sylvia tugged on his arm. “Randy, people are staring at you!”
He shrugged complacently. “Who cares? Remember, I’ve turned over a new leaf! No more inhibitions!”
She eyed him with a shake of her head. Turned over a new leaf? Sounds to me like the whole tree has fallen on your head! “Oh, yeah. For a minute there, I forgot.” She pointed to an area past the gorilla section. “Look, there’s the duck pond.”
Randy bought a bag of feed from the little vending machine, and they sat down on a nearby bench, tossing the feed to the many ducks that gathered. “We sure had three cute kids, didn’t we? It seems like only yesterday little DeeDee was letting the ducks eat out of her hand. Those were good times, Syl.”
“Yes, they were. We didn’t have much in the way of worldly goods, and at that time, neither of us knew Jesus, but we had each other and nothing else mattered.” She let out a deep sigh. “How I wish we could go back to those sweet times.”
Randy threw the remaining feed onto the ground, watching a dozen ducks scramble to snatch it up before the others got it. “But we can’t, Syl. What’s done is done, and there’s no undoing it.”
It could be undone, if you were willing to give it a try!
Randy suggested they stop by the sandwich shop near their house for lunch since Buck and Shonna would be coming for dinner in a few hours. By three, they were back home, with Sylvia tying an apron about Randy’s waist so he could help her prepare dinner.
The minute Buck came through the door, Sylvia rushed into the living room and pulled him to one side, warning him to behave and not mention one word about the divorce or seeing his father with Chatalaine.
“How’s it going?” Buck asked in a whisper.
“I’m not sure, but we’ve been getting along extremely well. He may be humoring me, but at least I’m having a chance to spend time with him—just the two of us—which we haven’t done in a long time.”
He doubled his fist and gave a playful blow to her chin. “Hang tough, Mom. Shonna and I are praying for you and Dad.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I know, Buck. God is able. I’m counting on Him answering our prayers.”
Randy came into the room, pulling off his apron. He cautiously extended his hand toward his son. With a huge grin, Buck took his hand and shook it heartily as his mother breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was for her husband and son to have harsh words.
After greetings all around, the four moved into the dining room, where the candles were already burning brightly, to share the dinner Randy and Sylvia had prepared. The dinner conversation was light and cheery, with both Randy and Sylvia relating their experiences of the past two days. Everyone laughed when Sylvia told them about Randy making faces at the gorilla.
“You’re lucky they didn’t stick you in the cage with him,” Shonna said with a giggle. “After a trick like that.”
By ten, the couple left after much hugging and kissing. Randy lingered at the door until Buck’s taillights disappeared into the darkness. “What a good guy our son has turned out to be.”
“We can be very proud of our kids,” Sylvia said, gathering up the empty glasses that had accumulated in the room and carrying them to the kitchen.
“So, what’s on the agenda tomorrow? A trip to the local museum?” Randy asked as they climbed the stairs. “Are we going to check out the mummies or look at abstract paintings?”
“Neither. Tomorrow morning, I thought we’d stay home, but I have something planned for the afternoon. ”
Randy stopped on the landing. “The whole morning at home? That sounds nice.”
“But you have to make me a promise.” She could see by his face that he expected a caveat. “I want you to call the office and make sure everything is going well.”
He tilted his head quizzically. “You sure you want me to call? That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It’s my deal, which means I have the right to change the rules anytime I like,” she said, pinching his arm playfully before turning and scurry
ing off to their room.
When she came out of the bathroom wearing another new nightgown, Randy noticed immediately and gave her a “Wow!” She did a quick turn around, twirling the long flowing skirt like DeeDee always did when she was a child playing dress-up in her mother’s clothes.
Randy let out a long, low whistle. “I’d say getting rid of those granny gowns was a vast improvement!”
“You—you don’t think it’s too low cut? Too sheer?”
“No, ma’am. Not one bit!”
She crawled up onto the bed and pulled her Bible from the drawer. “If you don’t mind, I thought I’d read a couple of chapters before going to bed.”
He propped his pillow against the headboard and leaned against it. “Fine with me.”
“That is, unless you’re ready to go to sleep. I don’t want the light to keep you awake.” She gave him a coquettish smile again. “If you don’t mind waiting a bit, I’ll massage your neck muscles again. I noticed you rubbing at them when we were all sitting in the family room. Has your neck been bothering you, Randy?”
His hand rose and stroked at his neck. “Some. I asked a doctor about it. He said it was tension.”
She put her Bible aside and crawled across the bed, moving up beside him, her hands kneading into the tight muscles. “You poor baby. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Nothing you could do about it. He said the only thing that would help was getting rid of some of the stress in my life, and that’s not an easy thing to do.”
Is that why you’re trying to make such radical changes in your life? Because the doctor advised it? I’ll bet he didn’t tell you to get rid of your wife of twenty-five years. Did you tell him you had a girlfriend? “I’m sure it’s not easy, with the job you hold at the paper.”
“He said I’d better start getting more exercise, too. That long walk you and I took yesterday was just what the doctor ordered.”
She worked his deltoids until her fingers began to cramp. After bending to kiss his cheek, she moved to her side of the bed and crawled under the quilt. “I’m really tired, and I know you are, too. Maybe we’d better put off reading the Bible until morning. Let’s get some sleep. We have lots of work to do tomorrow.”
Randy crawled into his side of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. “Work? What kind of work?”
“You’ll see.” She gave him her sweetest smile before scooting to the edge of her side of the bed. “Good night, Randy.”
“Good night, Syl.” A second later, she heard the snap of the light switch, and the room fell into utter darkness.
“Syl?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for the neck rub.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Syl?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for another great day.”
“It was great, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. It was.”
❧
Randy’s eyes opened wide when the alarm sounded. Surely, it was not morning yet. He flinched! Oh, oh! What am I doing? His arm draped over Sylvia’s shoulder, he was on her half of the bed. He froze when she moaned and reached toward her nightstand to turn off the alarm. He quickly withdrew his arm and scooted to his side, sitting up with a loud, exaggerated yawn. “What time is it?”
“Seven,” she droned sleepily.
“Seven? I’m usually wide awake at five. You realize this week is going to throw my entire routine off whack, don’t you?” He watched as she stood, reached her hands toward the ceiling with an all-out stretch, then headed toward the bathroom. Boy, did I goof. I can’t believe I was on her side of the bed after making such a big deal about sleeping in the guest room. But, wow! She looked so cute with that new haircut and wearing that fancy, low-cut red nightgown. He shook his head to clear it. “Wanna tell me about today’s project?” he called out to her.
She appeared in the bathroom doorway. “Not yet, but it’ll be fun.”
As he sat on his edge of the bed, waiting for her to return, his gaze fell to the Bible on her nightstand. How long had it been since he’d read his Bible? He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out its vision. A shudder coursed through his body. Are you sure you want to leave your wife? a small voice seemed to ask from within his heart.
“I don’t love her like I used to,” he answered in a whisper.
You don’t love her like you used to? Or are you turning your back on that love, trying to block it out to excuse your childish behavior?
Randy crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. “I’ve made up my mind. It is time for me now. For the past twenty-five years, I have sacrificed for my family, putting their needs first. I’ve worked round the clock to attain the position I have at the paper, spent every free hour I could find serving on the church board, and where has it all gotten me?”
You are in reasonably good health. You have a beautiful, loving wife, terrific kids, a great home, more than adequate income, and you are a born-again Christian. What more could you ask?
“Time for me! Time to do the things I’m interested in, before I either die or simply cannot do them because of poor health or because I’m too old. There’s so much I haven’t experienced. When I come to the end of my life, I don’t want to have regrets for the things I never did. Why can’t people understand that?”
“Randy?”
His wife’s voice brought him back to reality as she came out of the bathroom.
“Were you talking to someone? I heard voices.”
“No, just talking out loud. Bad habit I seem to have picked up lately.” He gave her a smile he hoped she did not perceive as guilt. “Among my other bad habits.”
“See you downstairs,” she said with a grin. “Gonna be a simple, quick breakfast this morning—juice, coffee, and cold cereal. We have things to do. Wear your jeans and a T-shirt.”
Sylvia was already sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her juice when Randy arrived—showered, shaved, and ready for the day. Once the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher, she reached for the two clean aprons hanging on a hook on the back of the pantry door. “One for me,” she said, tying it about her waist, “and one for you.”
“An apron? What’s this for?”
“We’re going to bake Christmas cookies!”
He gave her a skeptical stare, then allowed her to tie his apron about his waist. “This should be an experience!”
“It’ll be fun, and remember, our kids will be home in a few days, and they’ll be expecting homemade cookies. Think how proud you’ll be when you tell them you helped me bake them!” She gave him a gentle swat on his seat. “Now go wash your hands. I’ll get my cookbook.”
He did as he was told, and by the time he was finished, Sylvia was already beginning to assemble the things they would need. “What kind are we going to make?”
She gave him a mischievous smile. “Actually, we’re going to make three kinds. Chocolate chip, of course, since all the kids—and you—love them. My famous spritz cookies run through the cookie press and decorated, and lastly, it wouldn’t seem like Christmas without sugar cookies cut into all those wonderful shapes and sprinkled with red and green sugar crystals. So we’ll have to make those, too.”
“Wow, we are going to be busy.” He rubbed his hands together briskly. Just hearing the names of the cookies made his mouth water. “What do you want me to do?”
She handed him a tall canister from the counter. “Take that big bowl and measure me out six cups of flour.”
He placed the canister on the island, pulled a clean coffee cup from the cabinet, and began to measure out the flour. “Like this?”
Her eyes widened. “No, you can’t use a coffee cup! You have to use a measuring cup!”
He gave her a shrug. “Why? A cup is a cup!”
“Oh, my, I can see I’m going to have to watch your every move.”
Using the proper measuring cup, Randy began again to spoon out the flour. “Here you go,” he said, trying to conceal a grin as he
pushed the bowl toward her. “I lost count, but I think there are six cups in there.”
Again her eyes widened.
“Just kidding, Syl, just kidding. There are six cups of flour in there. Honest.”
She took the bowl from his hands and placed it on the counter next to the mixer. “I doubt it. It looks as though some of it went onto the floor, and you have to have at least a fourth of a cup on your apron!”
He looked quickly down at his apron, and she giggled aloud. “Just kidding, Randy. Gotcha!”
“What do you want me to do next?”
She motioned toward the kitchen wall phone. “Call your office.”
He eyed her with a questioning smile. “Only if you want me to.”
Fortunately, there were no major catastrophes going on at the office. A few minor ones, but the man he had left in charge was doing an admirable job of handling them. Randy was glad she had insisted he call. It set his mind at ease and made him realize it was only reasonable that he turn some of his responsibilities over to someone else. There was no way he could do it all.
They laughed their way through the three kinds of cookies, and by the time the last cookie sheet went into the oven, the kitchen was an absolute mess. Chocolate chips, red and green sugar sprinkles, and several colors of icing adorned the counters, the floor, and even the two cookie bakers, but the cookies looked beautiful spread out across the dining room table.
“I did it! I actually made cookies!” Randy said proudly as he stood beside Sylvia surveying their handiwork. He slipped an arm about her waist. “But I have to admit, babe, I never realized how much time and work you put into making all those Christmas cookies that seemed to appear by magic on Christmas Day. I don’t think I ever thanked you.”
❧
Sylvia blinked hard to hold back tears of gratitude as God’s Word filled her heart, giving her renewed hope. “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.”
“Syl? Did you hear me?” Randy asked, giving her a slight squeeze.
“I—I heard you, Randy, but I want you to know—I never expected any thanks. They were my gift to my beloved family. Yes, they took time and work, but I loved every minute of it. I made those cookies because I knew you and the children would enjoy them.”
Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014 Page 42