Being the one who always cleaned up at her house, Jesse felt guilty. “Can I help?”
Boswell stopped stacking the dishes and looked at her, his expression neutral. “Madam, this is my job. Thank you for asking, however.”
Nick scooted back his chair. “That’s our cue to get lost. We can wait for the children in the den.”
When Jesse was out of earshot of Boswell, she said, “I don’t think I would ever adjust to having a servant full-time. There are too many things I like to do around my house my own way.”
“For me it was get help or drown. My wife didn’t like to do anything around the house. If I wanted any kind of order in my home, I had to get someone else to do it. Boswell was a lifesaver.”
“Did your wife work?”
Nick snorted. “Work! No, not unless you wanted to say she worked at playing hard.”
Jesse sat at one end of the brown leather couch while Nick took the other end. She twisted around so she faced him with one cushion between them. “She did a good job with Cindy. She is a precious, polite young lady.”
“That wasn’t my wife. I can’t even say it was me. That was Boswell’s doing.”
“Is that why you want to spend some time with Cindy this summer? To get to know her?”
“Yes.” Nick looked away, his features unreadable. “She’s almost seven and I should know my own daughter, but I don’t. I was always working, trying to make my company as successful as possible.”
“What does success mean to you?”
“Having enough to provide for my family.”
“How well do you have to provide before you’re satisfied?”
Nick shot to his feet, stiff, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. “Cindy is never going to know what it’s like to want for something to eat or something warm to wear. Never. Not as long as I have a breath in my body.”
“But that doesn’t seem likely, does it? From what I understand your company is doing very well.”
He whirled around, the lines of his face hardening. “But things can change with the snap of a finger. One day I’m healthy, not a care in the world. The next I’m fighting to stay alive and walk again.”
“So for you there will never be enough?”
Pacing, Nick prowled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I suppose one day there will. Maybe when Cindy is grown-up and making her own way in the world, when I don’t have to worry about her.”
“As a parent you don’t stop worrying just because your child has grown up and moved out. Are you sure you’ll be satisfied then?”
He came to a halt in front of her. “I can’t answer that. I don’t know what the future holds for me. That’s my whole point.”
“You’re right. Life isn’t something we can always control. But that can be a wonderful thing, too. If we always know what’s going to happen, we can get bored, complacent. This way those little surprises can keep life exciting, keep us on our toes.”
“I grew up with no control over my life.”
“As a child I didn’t have a lot of control over my life, either.”
“Maybe a better word is stability. You’ve lived in Sweetwater all your life in a nice house with a whole bunch of people who cared what happened to you.”
“Sweetwater takes care of their own.”
“No one goes hungry?”
“Not if we know about them.”
“I wasn’t lucky enough to know a place like Sweetwater.”
Jesse’s gaze riveted to his. “You do now.”
“Why is it important that I attend church with you all tomorrow?”
“I think giving God a chance would help you. Have you ever gone to church?”
He opened and closed his hands. “Yes, when I was growing up. I can remember praying to God for something to eat some nights. It didn’t help.”
“Are you so sure about that? You’re here. You have more than enough now. You didn’t die from starvation. Have you ever considered what you went through made you a stronger person? Just because we pray for something doesn’t mean we’ll get it.”
“I wasn’t asking for a new toy. I was asking for food or warm clothing. For—” He swallowed hard and turned away.
“For what?”
He stiffened. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter now.”
“I think it does or you wouldn’t have stopped.”
Jesse hadn’t thought it possible but Nick grew even tenser. She rose and covered the distance between them, placing her hand on his shoulder. Beneath her palm she felt the bunched muscles.
“I’ll come to church with you tomorrow because I agreed to it, but that is all. There’s nothing there for me anymore.”
Jesse’s heart broke at the words he uttered. How could someone turn away from God? From the sacrifice that Jesus made for mankind? “Can Cindy come with us whenever she wants?”
He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “If she wants.”
“What happens when you return to Chicago? What if she wants to continue attending church?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have an answer for you.”
The broken pieces of her heart shattered even more until there didn’t seem to be anything left. His childhood had been so different from hers. He’d wanted for so much while she had lived a safe, protected life. He blamed God.
Lord, help me to show him the way back to You. How do I help him to see that loving You doesn’t guarantee a person an easy life? It only guarantees a person an eternal life in Your kingdom.
* * *
“Daddy, come on! We’re gonna be late. Jesse needs to get to church to make the coffee.”
Nick winced at the loud shouting from his daughter who stood at the bottom of the stairs, probably with her hands on her waist and tapping her foot against the tiled floor. Shoeless, he went to the top step and said, “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Hurry. I don’t wanna be late for church.” Clothed in a pink dress, Cindy danced from foot to foot.
Nick walked back into his bedroom and searched for his brown loafers. Church. His memories of church when he was a young boy were vague. His mother would take him each week, spend some extra time praying after everyone left, then come home and cry herself to sleep later that night. Her prayers hadn’t helped them. His prayers hadn’t, either. He’d used to listen to his mother’s cries, then get on his knees and offer his own prayer until one day he’d given up trying. What was the use? No one cared. After that he had made a promise to himself. He would only depend on himself. No one else—not even God.
A chill burrowed deep into his bones as he found his shoes and slipped them on his feet. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he noted his casual attire of tan slacks and navy-blue button-down shirt. He was as ready as he would ever be.
Ten minutes later Nick sat behind the steering wheel of his SUV with Jesse next to him and the two children in the back, chatting in lowered voices as though they were telling secrets they didn’t want the adults to hear.
Nick tossed his head toward the children. “Should we be worried?”
“Nah. They’re just being children.”
Tension grew the closer Nick got to the Sweetwater Community Church. His stomach muscles knotted and his palms were sweaty about the steering wheel. The thump of his heart against his chest increased as his breathing quickened.
When he turned into the parking lot at the side of the church, he had begun to force deep breaths into his lungs to slow his bodily functions down. The second he switched off the ignition, Cindy and Nate pushed open the back doors and leaped from the car. He watched them race for the building that must house the Sunday school classes.
Silence reigned in the car, heavy with tension and suppressed emotions.
His white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel underscored for Jesse the tension that held Nick. She wanted to wipe it away; she wanted to smooth the deep worry lines that carved his features. “You don’t have to come in until nine-thirty. I can
get the coffee started.” She reached out and lay her hand on his arm. The muscles beneath her palm bunched.
“No, I’ll help you. I need to keep busy.”
What had happened to him as a young boy? Jesse wondered when she heard the desperate emphasis on the word need. “Sure. I could always use the help. There never seems to be enough time. And speaking of time, we’d better get moving or there’ll be no coffee when the first service is over.”
As Jesse approached the church with Nick beside her, sounds of the organ and voices singing drifted to them. She angled closer to Nick and took his hand. His cold fingers sent a chill through her that not even the eighty-plus temperature could warm.
He halted by the double doors into the lobby. “I shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake.”
She could have reminded him of their deal, but she didn’t think it would have made any difference. Something from the past gripped him so hard that it governed his actions even today. She pointed toward a garden on the side of the building. “Why don’t you sit out there? I can get everything ready. I shouldn’t be long.”
He stared a long moment at the pine trees in the garden from past Christmases, then focused his attention on her. “You don’t mind if I don’t help?”
“That wasn’t part of the deal. And frankly, you have fulfilled your part of the wager. You have come to church. There wasn’t a time allocation of how long you would stay once you came.”
Some of the tension in his expression dissolved. Without a word, he wheeled around and headed toward the garden. Jesse slipped inside the building and hurried to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later she had the coffee made and the supplies laid out on the table. She heard the last hymn being sung as she walked through the lobby and out the double doors.
God would forgive her if she didn’t make it to church this morning. She had a more important mission: to discover what had driven Nick away from the Lord.
When she followed the stone path that led to the heart of the garden, she found Nick seated on a bench, his shoulders hunched over, his hands loosely clasped together between spread legs. He stared at the ground at his feet. The tightness around her chest constricted. His body language projected hurt, but she knew when he saw her, his expression would be neutral.
She moved forward. He caught sight of her and lifted his head, his features unreadable. He straightened, even his body conveying nothing of what he was feeling inside.
He glanced at his watch and for a few seconds puzzlement graced his expression.
“I only have to make the coffee. I don’t have to serve it. I figured I would keep you company for a while—if that’s okay.”
He shrugged.
She sat on a bench across from him under the shade of a maple tree, relishing the few degrees of coolness it offered. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“What?”
The defensive tone in his voice cautioned her to move slowly. He wouldn’t open up easily if at all. “Your feelings toward the church, God.”
He grimaced, looked away.
“Something happened to you. I thought talking about it might help.”
“I doubt that.”
“When I have a problem, talking about it helps me to work through it.”
“That’s you.”
She inhaled a deep, composing breath. “Has keeping it bottled up inside of you helped?”
His eyes widened for a brief moment then grew narrow as he pinned her with a sharp look. “You deal with your problems one way. I deal with mine another.”
“My question still stands. Has it helped to keep everything bottled up inside of you?”
“There isn’t much to tell. The church isn’t for me. I tried it once. It doesn’t meet my needs.”
“When? As a child or an adult?”
“Does it matter?” He shot to his feet, his arms stiff at his sides.
“Yes, it matters. How we perceive things as a child is different than we do as an adult.”
“If you must know, God let me down.” He pivoted away from her, staring through the pine trees toward the parking lot.
“He doesn’t promise us a perfect life where everything works out the way we want.”
“For years I’d heard about the power of prayer. Well, let me tell you it doesn’t work. He doesn’t listen.”
“He listens. He just doesn’t always do what we want. When Mark died, I prayed to Him. I wanted my husband back, but that wasn’t going to happen. I did ask Him to help me get through my grief. The Lord was there for me. If it wasn’t for Him, I’m not sure what I would have done, especially during the long hours at night when I wanted Mark by my side in bed.”
Nick faced her again, his gaze drilling into her. “How do you know the Lord was there for you? You can’t see Him.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I know,” Jesse whispered, feeling Nick’s anguish as though it twisted her insides. “I can’t see the wind, either, but I see its effect and know of its existence.”
“I’ve learned to be practical. I don’t just take someone’s word for something. I need to see it.”
She spread her arms wide. “Look around you. Everything you see is God’s work. In school I studied photosynthesis and knew God existed. Nothing that complex could randomly exist. Put simply, plants give off oxygen and take in carbon dioxide while we give off carbon dioxide and take in oxygen. What a neat interdependence. Like a marriage, we need each other. That happens a lot in nature. It’s the best testimony to the existence of God.”
“I wish I had your faith, but it’s not that easy.”
She held out her hand. “All you have to do is take the first step. Come to church. See for yourself through an adult’s eyes. Your perspective might change.”
He shook his head. “If anything, I’m much more jaded than I was as a child.”
“Perhaps, but you still look at things differently.”
He stared at her hand stretched toward him for a long moment, then fit his within her grasp. “I told you I would come to church and I don’t back off from a promise even though you were going to graciously let me.”
She wasn’t going to argue with his reasoning. It was important to her to get him inside to the service. A first step, she hoped, of many more to come.
In the lobby she found Nate with Cindy, talking with Sean and a few of his Sunday school friends. They all surrounded Crystal Bolton in her wheelchair, discussing something the young girl said.
Nate saw her and waved her over. “Mom, Crystal wants to join our basketball team this fall.”
“I think that would be a good idea. What does your mom say about it?”
“She said I could try. I saw a special on TV about people in wheelchairs doing all kinds of different sports. Some people with only one leg ski. Others ride horses. Mom would flip out if I wanted to ride a horse. That’s why I thought playing basketball would be better. I love to watch the Kentucky Wildcats play.”
“What’s this about basketball?” Tanya Bolton asked, joining the group.
“I need to get active, Mom. I thought I would play basketball and get a wheelchair that is light and made to do things like that.”
Tanya gripped the handles on the back of Crystal’s wheelchair. “We’ll talk about it later. Church is about to start.”
Jesse saw the shadow of doubt in her friend’s eyes. Tanya had just started working after her husband had gone to jail for arson. Money was tight for her, and a new wheelchair would cost a lot of money. She doubted Crystal would get one unless she came up with a way to raise the money. “We’d better get inside, too, Cindy and Nate. Ready?”
The children hurried in front of her and Nick, taking a seat next to Tanya and Crystal, who sat in the aisle in her wheelchair. Tension emanated from Nick as the service started. His actions were stiff as though at any moment he would break into a hundred pieces.
When Reverend Collins began his sermon on the bounty of God’s love, Jesse laid her hand over his on the pew bet
ween them and smiled. The tight lines about his mouth eased, and he linked his fingers through hers. Through the sermon she noticed that Nick listened to the reverend’s words, and after it, he relaxed his tensed muscles and even attempted to sing the last song.
When the congregation began to file out of church, Jesse said, “You have a beautiful voice. Do you sing much?”
“Never,” Nick said quickly, as though the mere thought was ridiculous.
“I love to sing, but as you could hear, I wasn’t gifted with a beautiful voice.”
His gaze trapped hers. “I like your voice.”
She blushed. “Are you deaf? Did you not hear me singing right beside you a moment before?”
He chuckled. “You aren’t exactly on key, but your speaking voice has a pleasant sound to it.”
The color in her cheeks must have flamed even more because she was hot as though the air-conditioning didn’t work in the church. “Thank you. I haven’t had that compliment before.”
“Mom, we’re gonna go outside and play. We’ll be at the playground.”
“Most of the kids go outside after the service while we adults visit inside where it’s cool.” Jesse watched Cindy and Nate disappear with several other children, Nick’s daughter pushing Crystal in her wheelchair. “Cindy has made some friends.”
“Usually she’s shy.”
“Nate won’t let her be shy. He doesn’t have a shy bone in his body.”
“I’ve noticed. He takes after his mother. I think he knows everyone in town.”
“Probably. He’s even introduced some people to me.”
“No. I don’t believe that,” Nick said with a laugh, falling into the line of people waiting to say something to the reverend.
“Really.” When Jesse reached the front of the line, she said, “Reverend Collins, this is my new neighbor, Nick Blackburn. He and his daughter are here for two months.”
The reverend took Nick’s hand and shook it. “I’m glad you could visit our church. I met your daughter earlier with Nate. She was telling me how God helped find her little kitten last week.”
Surprise flitted into Nick’s eyes. “She was hiding in a bush by the lake, and Boswell found her right before he was heading back to the house.”
A Mother for Cindy Page 9