by LoRee Peery
Rainn had poured over a thirsty soul she hadn’t known was dry. His nearness awakened all those neglected female cells, created to be complete in a man-woman relationship.
****
Rainn gained strength from Geneva’s warm support, knowing she prayed for him and Mia. He sucked in a hefty breath and left the comfort of her presence in the kitchen.
How to tell Mia about Lindsay? Saying the words out loud, telling Mia her mommy was dead, would be harder than serving in Afghanistan. Or facing the worst fire he’d ever fought.
I need some extra strength here, Lord.
First thing that morning, even before caffeine, Rainn had turned to God’s Word. He’d received comfort, but no real answers on how to go about giving the news. He again called out in silent anguish. A child’s faith is simple, Lord, help me guide Mia.
“Hey, Button. Aunt Lanae fixed up your owies?”
“My legs sting a little bit.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “But I cried ’cuz the kitty surprised me and I’m sad that kitty ran away again. I really don’t hurt, now.”
“Would you mind sitting on my lap?” He held his arms out, so grateful that she was speaking in the first person. “I’m kind of sad like you.”
At her nod, he gathered her up and settled her head against his chest.
“Mommy’s still lost,” she asked, after a couple sways of the glider, “isn’t she, Uncle Rainn?”
“Not really.” How to say this? “Your mommy has gone to heaven, Mia. So she isn’t lost because we know that she is with Jesus now.”
Mia’s clear, bluish-green eyes filled with questions rather than tears. Then she looked down to his hand on her knee and squiggled both of hers into the palm.
The trust of the little girl put a hitch in his chest. For her to reach out to him spoke volumes. Such love flooded his soul that he wanted to keep her wrapped in his arms, protecting her, forever.
Nope. Wrong thought. Love like this was meant to flow out.
Fatherhood was so frightening. And it was humbling, and challenging, but…he could do it. With God’s help.
He closed his eyes, shooting a wordless plea toward heaven. After a beat, he set a soothing motion of the glider, and sought to comfort Mia. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. He concentrated on the rhythm. Peace followed.
“Now Mia has no daddy and no mommy.” She sat up straight. “Uncle Rainn, will you keep me?”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Mia, sweetheart, I will keep you in my care until you are all grown up. I promise to take care of you as long as you need me.”
“Until Mia grows up like Moselle?”
Her unwavering belief in him hit like a blow. Right in the middle where muscle and hardness harbored no protection. Was he up to the task?
Of course, God doesn’t create inadequacy. He prepares us for anything He asks of us.
“Moselle and Eric are getting married. Moselle said she wants a girl someday just like me. Uncle Rainn, is Mia a good girl?”
“Button, you’re the best.”
“That’s silly. Mia is not a button.” She giggled. “Geneva sews buttons. Buttons are on clothes.”
He chuckled. Holding Mia reminded Rainn of holding Geneva. Each female felt right in his arms, his child and his woman. His heart was full of love and responsibility, all cloaked in humility.
Lanae’s comment, heard through the open window, came to mind. He wouldn’t mind at all, raining on Geneva’s parade, or snowing on her garden, or blowing wet leaves on her picnic, or anything else if the event took him near her.
And that woman filled his arms like no other, few as there had been. She had substance, meat on her bones, all the woman a man could ever need. Soft and comforting—all covering up a get-up-and-go solid strength. And too many attributes to list.
“Mia missed you, Uncle Rainn, and I’ll miss Mommy. Geneva made me feel good.”
“I’m glad, honey. And I missed you. But we’ll be together for a long time.”
He let his thoughts drift as he swayed on the porch glider with his niece. Before Geneva, his art had been his motivation and satisfaction in life. Somehow, working with glass had been enough, filling the void of human connection.
Now, he needed Geneva in another way, to complete him. To be a family, where love mixed in with need.
But he needed her on a practical basis as well. He hoped Geneva didn’t mind how he saw her as mainstay for parenting support. He felt he could count on her to guide and counsel him in the ways of raising a little girl.
Lord, You gotta show me how to be the best father I can be. I don’t have the qualifications without Your help.
“I love Geneva, Uncle Rainn.”
He wondered if his love for Geneva was big enough to allow her to be her own woman, without stifling her growth and independence while he moved into her life?
He knew the situation, the roadblocks didn’t need voicing.
Geneva wanted to sew her quilts and run her business. The burning question was—did she have room in her life for him and Mia?
Well, people came first. Could she spread herself that thin? He knew what she thought her future held: the upcoming wedding; filling in when Lanae was too weak to pull her weight. Watching over Mia if he couldn’t find anyone else would add to her heaping calendar of things to do.
“Breakfast anyone?” Geneva called from the doorway, hair fluffed, lips pink, long skirt covering her breathtaking legs, a glass in each hand.
“My Princess cup! Mia is thirsty, Geneva.”
“Well, come and get it.”
Mia bounced off his lap and took the short glass. And Geneva extended a tall, green quart-size glass to Rainn.
“My favorite shade of green is purple,” announced Mia, Pink mustache and all.
Geneva’s glance met his. He lifted his brows in question and she shrugged in response.
On that jovial note, Rainn wrapped an arm around the shoulders of each and entered the house, where the rich aroma of waffles and maple syrup hit his nostrils. His stomach growled in response.
Geneva’s kitchen smelled like family.
And family meant a father’s love.
But Rainn’s father hadn’t been the example of a loving father. Good thing Rainn knew the Father Who was a prime example.
Rainn on My Parade
11
“Well, this is some fine kettle of fish. I’m in love with a younger man. And I’m not sure I know what he expects of me.” Geneva set the quilting in her lap and stuck the needle in the center of a sunflower so she wouldn’t lose it.
Talking to myself like some old woman. I’ve got bats in the belfry if I think Rainn could ever love me. He needs a young woman to complete him. To fill his needs and be his helpmeet. To help him care for that precious child.
She gathered herself and her quilt together, pocketed the thimble, needle, thread. Whether Moselle was ready or not, Geneva headed upstairs to the loft. Since Lanae was having a better, more wide-awake day, they had called a craft session and Frivolities business meeting.
Geneva was surprised to see Lanae had arrived first, from the outside stairs off the alley, and was already seated on the butter-colored leather loveseat. Moselle stood at her workbench—a huge old door left in the building. A Frivolities cup rested in the doorknob hole Moselle used for a holder.
Moselle swung around, looking young and fresh and in love. She answered Geneva’s smile with a bigger smile. “Hey, Mom. What do you think of the bag Aunt Lanae is using?”
Lanae dropped the crochet hook onto a yummy burnt orange fluff of yarn. She skated her hands over a legless pair of old jeans, pointing at buttons from Geneva’s own collection, Lanae’s crocheted rosettes, Moselle’s baubles.
“Jewels,” the three said at once, mimicking Mia’s love for the shiny.
“My turn,” Lanae piped up, “maybe we could try macramé.”
“Great idea,” Moselle put in. “Bright fuchsia and magenta and purple macraméed belts would go
over big right now. Maybe it would bring some younger girls to the shop after school. We could try small hair accessories for the tweeners, scarves for the high schoolers.”
She stroked the handle of her glue gun and got a far away look in her eye.
Geneva exchanged a glance with Lanae. “You’re zoning out. Can we turn on some oldies instead of that country countdown?”
Since she listened to Geneva’s suggestion, Geneva figured she must be in a designer fantasy. She made the radio station switch without comment. Immediately, the soothing tones of a love ballad drifted through the loft.
Geneva sighed inside. Conversation and plans circled around while she concentrated on hand-stitching the tie-died gold quilt binding. Then her mind switched gears.
Rainn had yet to talk to her about all that took place in Fort Worth. He tried to hide it, but when he returned, tragedy was chiseled into his features. He spoke without inflection. He smiled, but joy was absent. His heavy-lidded look was expressionless, as though he had already buried his pain.
Rainn had either grieved for Lindsay on the road back from Texas, or he was holding things in too close for his own wellbeing.
She wanted him to open up and let her know why he seemed to be relying on her so much. Especially when he made no mention of staying in Platteville if the next job led him somewhere else. She couldn’t leave Frivolities, she’d invested too much time, money, and love into it. Besides, Lanae had left her ranch to begin a new life here with her family close by. And now that Lanae was ill, she needed Geneva more than ever.
Then again, Mia was always present, so they hadn’t had the opportunity to talk privately.
He’s taking advantage where Mia’s concerned, whispered that angry voice in her head. She shook away the negative voice to again focus on her sewing.
At the thought of the little girl, a commotion of color appeared at the sliding door. Geneva stuck her needle in the binding, and looked up, keeping her feelings close to her heart instead of revealed on her face.
Rainn slid the door open, coached Mia inside, his gaze glanced off Moselle and Lanae, then landed on Geneva.
“Hi, all. I was wondering—” Rainn held out his hands palms up. He needed help again.
“What is it this time?” Out of nowhere, her previous thoughts broke through.
The smile left his face in a rush.
And she knew the “nowhere” needed to be addressed while on her knees.
“Uh.” Rainn kneaded his neck, just below the hairline. “Training at the fire house? I just found out?”
“Oh, that’s where Eric is,” Moselle affirmed. “Agriculture emergencies, I think he said.”
“Right.” He consulted Moselle instead of Geneva. “So, is it a problem if Mia stays for a little while?”
She waved Mia to her side, and scowled at Geneva over the girl’s head.
Mia snuggled against Moselle, while keeping her gaze on Rainn.
My tone of voice probably scared the sweet girl. She covered her mouth, aghast.
Rainn left with a finger kiss directed toward Mia and a finger wave toward Moselle and Lanae. He scowled at Geneva when their gaze briefly met through the closed glass door.
Immediately contrite for her reaction, her selfishness, Geneva wanted him back so she could apologize.
Why did he bother with the firefighter stuff? On the other hand, no training would be wasted if he continued as a volunteer if—rather, when—he left Platteville.
He’d move on to the next church glass project. It was inevitable. They hadn’t talked about his work, but she kept track of progress on the colored church windows each week. The job here in town was winding down.
Rainn would be leaving. Sooner, rather than later.
She studied his niece. Mia didn’t look like she was hurting over the death of her mother. But children were resilient. Somehow, whether Geneva wanted it or not, Mia had folded her fist around Geneva’s heart.
So where was that selfish desire to put business ahead of Mia coming from?
Things were smooth for the moment. Mia seemed to think it great fun to hang out with the women. Part of her routine was spending time with them in Frivolities.
“Mom, what was—?”
“Bit rude, weren’t you, Sis?”
Words swirled though Geneva’s mind, but she wouldn’t voice them. She could hardly come to terms with her own actions. Deep down, did she see Rainn’s visit as an imposition?
Yes, in a way she’d felt trounced on. Things like that reminded her of Bret.
“I refuse to get involved if loving means I’m expected to be the one giving all the time. Like what I do for him is more important that who I am. For Bret it was cooking, cleaning.” She clamped her back teeth. “Warming his bed. I will not be taken advantage of, be used as a babysitter. Does he need me to complete something in himself? I want to be needed, appreciated, for who I am and not for what I can do.”
A frown creased Mia’s brow. She was undoubtedly confused by Geneva’s ugly words. Geneva softened her countenance and smiled when their gazes met.
A twinge stabbed Geneva’s heart.
“Do you have buttons for me to hand you yet, Geneva?” Mia’s tone was hopeful, sweet, yet reserved.
Geneva swallowed her selfishness and let all the tension drain from her face. She had no right to take her frustrations out on the little girl. “Not yet, my girl.”
“Good. Because Mia has an important job. Moselle needs me to hand her sequins. ‘Sequin’ is a better word than ‘shiny thing.’”
At Geneva’s nod, Mia frowned again, this time with concentration, intent on having the next sequin container ready for Moselle. It was beyond Mia’s ability to manage sequins or buttons individually, or tasks that required fine motor skills. She did great with the containers as long as the women explained what was needed and didn’t give her too many directions.
“You do such a good job when we ask for your help, Mia. I’m almost ready for the gold sequins,” Moselle said to prepare the girl.
Lanae caught Geneva’s eye. No doubt they perceived the same thought. Moselle was good mother material. Lanae looked better tonight, with more color in her face. She was all flying fingers and crochet hook. The ball of yarn danced in her lap.
Geneva bunched her quilting in one arm, finding it hard to focus.
“Uncle Rainn called you Sweet Lady,” Mia said, out of nowhere. “Do you have two names now?”
How to answer that one? Geneva loved the sound of her name on Rainn’s lips. No one had ever used the shortened version of her name, but she’d accept it if he called her Neva.
“As long as it’s not a naughty word you can call me any name you choose.” Mia giggled as Geneva expected.
“I like ‘old one who climbs a tree.’” Moselle chimed in.
Geneva tried to form a comeback, objecting to the idea of being old. But Mia latched onto the climbing a tree scenario. Among the three women, they told her the story of Rainn and Geneva going after the kitty in a tree.
“And once Geneva was on the ground,” Lanae finished, “the kitty jumped from Rainn’s arms and ran off.”
Mia’s lip quivered. She lifted tear-filled eyes to Geneva.
Geneva secured her needle and set aside her sewing to hold her arms open wide.
“Uncle Rainn said you climbed the tree after the kitty.” Mia shuffled over, tears now coursing down her cheeks. She ignored the open arms. “Geneva, where is that poor kitty? It can’t live in a tree. Why didn’t Uncle Rainn save it? Where is the kitty’s mommy? Mia and Kitty don’t have a mommy.” She jumped up. “Tomorrow we need to find that kitty. The kitty needs to be safe.”
Mia’s agitation rose and Geneva feared a loud uprising. She searched Moselle’s face, in silent supplication. Mia began moving around the room.
“Eric takes care of his puppy Dear.” Mia announced a she stood for a moment by Moselle.
Next, she rushed to Lanae. “Aunt Lanae, will you feel better to walk outside with
me? Can we look for the kitty?”
By the time she came to Geneva, Geneva was crying. Mia cupped Geneva’s face in her small hands. “Geneva, please. The kitty that scratched my legs? She needs a home, too. Like Mia.”
Geneva caressed the girl’s back, but Mia reared up and set her wrists on her hips, starting to scrub. “This kitty needs love. Geneva loved Mia when Uncle Rainn went away.”
“We’ll see if we can find her. Right now it’s too dark outside.” Geneva searched Mia’s face, wanting to give her an answer for every need she could possibly have.
How empty Geneva’s life would be without this dear little girl. And it would be busy with her around. But somehow, Geneva would get it all done.
You’re not in this alone.
The quiet affirmation calmed her heart. She needed to concentrate on right now. Tomorrow would take care of itself.
****
Days later, Geneva faltered first thing in the morning, needing time alone. She hurried in the bathroom while Mia spent time in the glider swing. She wanted to get lost in the movement of a soft swaying rhythm of her own.
Rainn had taken another trip to Fort Worth for Lindsay’s ashes, and to get a completed death certificate to wrap up legalities.
Geneva’s guilt had prompted an offer to have Mia stay while he was away. He hadn’t talked much about the wrongful death issue. Geneva couldn’t imagine living with something so huge going unanswered.
She had a hard time concentrating while Rainn was gone, except when Mia slept.
Geneva stood in the shower stretching and yawning as she soaped up. Her mind and body needed the kinks to be upright before action. She recalled the day she climbed the tree.
Wasn’t it a God-thing? Rainn had been as close as breathing, at least in her thoughts, since then.
Except, I have yet to apologize for my words in the loft.
Once out of the shower, she toweled off and went to business on her face. All the anti-aging creams and potions to scrub off the layers years had wrought.
She spread her fingers over her face, imagining the touch of Rainn’s hands. Why couldn’t he see her flaws?
And his? So far she hadn’t seen many faults. Who could fault him for having tunnel vision when it came to Mia? Just how many men would be so devoted and determined to make a better life for a sister’s child?