Her expression lit like a match. “You don’t trust me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not in so many words, but you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Are you always this angry?”
“You make me angry.”
Chris sighed. “Okay, I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I’d just like to get to know you, that’s all.”
“Make sure I’m not some kind of a masked murderer in disguise? You’re the one who asked me to work with Abby.”
He patted the top of the steering wheel and peered out at the star-filled sky. “Look, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I’ll tell you about myself. I’ve lived here all my life. Always wanted to work with cars. Always. Always loved to pick my guitar and sing for Jesus, too. I get to do that every Sunday at church. I’m pretty much doing what I always wanted.”
He shifted his weight in the seat. “I didn’t expect to finish raising Abby. Truth is, I’m not very good at it. I pray every day God will show me what to say, what to do, how to respond. Most days I end up flat on my face begging God to show me what to do with her.”
Chris cleared his throat, fearing he’d been too honest with his shortcomings. He slowed down as a small rabbit jumped across the road and into the swaying wheat.
“It’s great you’ve always known what you wanted.” Victoria’s voice was almost a whisper. “I graduated college and still didn’t have a clue. No reason to. Daddy had lots of …” She laid her heels on the seat between them. “Well, anyway, I haven’t really had any life goals. I accepted Jesus several years back, and since then I’ve just been trying to live each day for Him.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“It always has been, until …” She peered at him and smiled. “It still is a good plan. I really enjoyed spending time with your sister today. She’s a great girl.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am.” She touched the top of his hand. “Thank you for trusting me.”
ten
Placing her hand in the small of her back, Victoria sat up and leaned as far back as her body would allow. The sun had risen to its peak and beat down heavier on her and the garden. She wiped beads of sweat from her brow. I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard in my life.
Since it was a Saturday, Victoria had gotten off work at noon, and Sondra had dropped her off at Chris’s so she could spend more time with Abby. She couldn’t deny that cleaning the kitchen and Abby’s room on her previous visit had been nothing short of a blast. Abby had a wonderful, sweet spirit and a quick sense of humor. Victoria didn’t understand why Abby and Chris had so many battles.
“Uh, I think that was a plant.” Abby pointed at the leafy object in Victoria’s gloved hand.
Victoria furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought it was poison ivy.”
Abby covered her mouth with a dirt-caked hand. The black gunk had found a home beneath each of her fingernails as well as staining the creases of her fingers. Victoria frowned and wondered why the teen had insisted on attacking the garden barehanded.
Abby giggled. “That’s a green pepper plant.”
“What?”
“You know. You can eat them raw or cut them up and cook them in meatloaf or chili. Some people even make stuffed green peppers.”
Victoria swatted the air. “I know what they are. I just thought this looked like a poison ivy plant. Don’t poison ivy stems have three pointy leaves?”
Abby nodded. “Yes, but that looks nothing like poison ivy. It’s a green pepper plant.” Abby smiled and pointed to the cushy-looking plant that Victoria had been unsure of what to do with. “You pulled the green pepper plant and left that?”
“I didn’t know what to do with that. It looks so soft and fluffy. I thought it might be some sort of vegetation.”
“It’s a sticker weed.”
“A sticker weed?”
“Yeah, at least that’s what I call ’em. You know, it’s real prickly like a porcupine.”
“I suppose I should pull it.”
Abby giggled again and nodded her head.
Embarrassed, Victoria grabbed the weed with all her strength and pulled. It didn’t move. She was supposed to be the one teaching Abby about becoming a lady and yet she was humiliating herself with her total ineptness at gardening. She yanked on the weed again. The thing seemed determined to stay in the ground, so Victoria pulled a little harder. It still didn’t budge. This thing has a mind of its own. Grabbing one piece of it, Victoria yanked until some of it came up. She’d just have to get it a little at a time.
“I kept my room clean. Kitchen, too.”
Victoria looked up. A strand of hair fell into her eyes, and she swiped it away with the back of her wrist. “That’s great.”
“Chris was real happy about it. Said if I could keep it up, he’d give me more privileges.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah.” Abby pulled a small weed and threw it away from the garden. “But it’s kinda weird, ya know. Chris and I have always acted like brother and sister, not like he’s my dad. Sure, he’s a lot older than me, but we used to play house together. He was the dad and I was the mom.”
“Really?” Victoria raised her eyebrows in surprise.
Abby sat back on her bottom and chuckled. “I’d make him hold my babies and feed them and burp them.”
Victoria laughed. “I can’t imagine your big, burly brother so domesticated.”
“Chris would do it until a friend came over or until he couldn’t take it no more. Then we’d fight.” She grinned at Victoria. “I mean, we’d really fight. We’d punch each other and roll around on the floor until Mama came and made us split up and go to our rooms.”
“But he’s so much bigger than you. He could have really hurt you.”
“Well, that’s the really funny thing. Chris was a scrawny little thing all through high school. It wasn’t until after he graduated that he started growing.”
“How interesting.”
“Yeah, I could take him back then.” Abby smiled. “Course, I don’t think he ever put his real might into fighting me.”
“I think he really cares a lot about you, Abby.”
Abby grabbed up another weed and cast it away from the garden. “I don’t know. He acts like my dad. But he ain’t my dad.”
“I know. He knows that, too.”
“My dad was wonderful. He was perfect.” Abby twirled a blade of grass between her fingers. “He used to come home from work and help Mama cook dinner. She would try to have it ready for him, but she never could quite get it done.”
“Did your mom work, as well?”
“No. She had diabetes really bad, and she was always tired. She slept a lot.” She paused. “After dinner, Dad, Chris, and I would do dishes. Every night. Chris washed. I dried. Dad put them away.”
“Where was your mom?”
Abby looked at the grass in her hand. “Resting.”
“Oh.”
“Then Dad read Chris and me a Bible story. Every night.” Abby paused. “I miss him so much.”
“Abby, what happened to your mom?”
“She left.”
“I’m … sorry.”
Abby looked at Victoria. Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know why she left us.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I was angry for a long time, but now, I just don’t understand why she wouldn’t listen to reason.”
Victoria listened as Abby told her more stories about her parents and arguments she had with Chris. Abby needed consistency, but she also yearned for compassion and patience in her life. Though in a different situation, Victoria understood all too well the teen’s feelings of abandonment and confusion.
From what Victoria had seen of Chris, she could well imagine why the girl felt exasperated by her older brother. She herself had been a recipient of Chris’s fru
strated words, or at the very least, words said in such a way they came across offensive. The man also formed unusual attachments to inanimate objects.
And yet she thought about him all the time.
She plucked another weed from the garden. How did Chris feel when all this happened? He must have struggled. Surely he needed to talk to someone. Maybe he had spoken with their pastor. Still, Abby is his responsibility. He’s already admitted the trouble he has relating to her. He has to see to more than just her physical needs.
Abby leaned over and wrapped her arms around Victoria. “Thank you for listening.”
Victoria squeezed and then released Abby. “You’re a wonderful young lady, Abby. You can talk to me anytime.”
“Let’s get this garden done so we can order some pizza.”
“Sounds good to me.” Victoria grabbed what she hoped to be a weed and pulled it out of the ground. I think Chris and I need to have a little talk.
Chris tapped the steering wheel to the tune of the music he planned to play at church the following morning. His day couldn’t have been any longer, or any worse. Everything had gone wrong. He’d lost his favorite wrench, hit his head on the hood of a car, spilt a tub of old, nasty oil all over the garage floor, not to mention he never could determine what pained Mrs. Mitchell’s car. He was booked full on Monday besides trying to squeeze in figuring out that car’s ailment.
Inhaling, he pulled into his drive and looked over to find Victoria and Abby sitting in the garden pulling weeds. The memory of seeing Victoria just a few days before wearing his clothes filled his mind. Something in him had stirred in a way he had been unprepared for when he saw her small frame swallowed in his old shirt and pants.
He had pushed the unwelcome feeling away until that evening when he found the clothes folded on the corner of his bed. He picked them up to find her sweet scent had lingered, which forced his thoughts of her to whirl in his head like a tornado.
A tornado proved a perfect description for her. She’d come into his life, wrecked his pride and joy, and knocked him off his feet each time she came near. He couldn’t eat without wondering what foods she liked. He couldn’t receive money from his clients without seeing her behind the desk at the bank. He couldn’t sleep without envisioning her long lashes against her cheek as he’d seen them that first day when she had prayed on the way to Sondra’s farm. His whole life had gone topsy-turvy since Victoria Thankful slammed into it.
And there she was again with the sun shining down on her dark hair, setting reddish pieces in it afire with beauty. Abby adored her. Even Sassy-Girl loved her, which proved to be some weird miracle unto itself. That dog didn’t even like him most of the time, and he usually fed her.
God, I don’t know why she makes me feel this way. We both know she’s not right for me. Rich versus poor—well, okay, working income. Beauty versus beast—well, okay average.
What about Christian versus Christian, his heart seemed to ask. He shook the thought away, parked the car, and got out. It didn’t matter that they shared the same faith. They were direct opposites, and he’d like to spend his days with a wife with whom he had something in common. Wife? Who said anything about a wife?
In desperate need of getting the woman out of his mind, Chris was grateful when the time finally came to take her home. After opening the door for Victoria, Chris hopped into the front seat of his truck. “I appreciate all you’re doing for Abby.”
“She’s a wonderful girl. I’m loving every minute of it.”
“Good.”
“Thanks for taking me home. I have court on Monday afternoon. Hopefully, after that, I’ll have my Suburban back.”
“That’s great.”
“I think on Tuesday, Abby and I are going to start working on how to wear hair and makeup.”
Chris knew Abby needed all the help she could get in that area. “That would be wonderful.”
Silence wrapped around them. Chris started to envision Mrs. Mitchell’s car’s engine. There had to be something he had missed, something he couldn’t quite get a grasp of. Everything he’d checked looked good, seemed good. Mentally, he removed each plug, trying to remember what he’d missed.
“Would it be all right if I took her to get her hair cut?”
Chris could hear Victoria’s voice tense. He looked at her and frowned at the frustrated expression that overtook her face. Maybe he was just imagining things. It had probably been a pretty long day for her, as well. “That would be fine.”
“She needs to feel accepted, Chris.”
He glanced at her again. This time he could tell she was mad. “I agree.”
“By you.”
The words spit from her lips with what he was sure was vehemence. He tried to think of a time he may have made Victoria believe he didn’t accept Abby and couldn’t think of one. Abby seemed to enjoy making his life more difficult, but he loved and accepted her completely. “I do accept Abby.”
“No, Chris, I don’t think you do. This has been a very hard couple of years for her. She needs compassion and tenderness from you, not constant criticism and punishment.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yes, I do. Abby told me you do little more than berate her. She said you are always looking for things to be upset with her about.” She smacked her hand against her leg. “I have no trouble with Abby. She does everything I ask.”
“You haven’t asked her to do something she doesn’t want to do.”
“Oh yes, I have. Do you think she wanted to clean her room and the kitchen? And yet she did it, and she’s kept both clean.” She paused. “She’s not used to you being her parent.
She’s used to you being her brother.”
How dare Victoria criticize him for the way he treated Abby! How dare she be so condescending, so know-it-all with him! He did the best he could with his sister. Abby was the one who wouldn’t give him a chance, who wouldn’t listen to reason or a single thing he had to say.
Chris stopped the car in front of Dylan and Sondra’s house. He willed the mounting fury to stay put in his gut as he turned to look Victoria in the face. Pointing to his chest, he said, “That’s what I’m used to, as well.”
Victoria flung the truck door open and jumped out. She leaned forward into the cab. “Then quit acting like such a jerk.” Slamming the door, she walked up the porch steps and into the house.
What was I thinking? I should have known Victoria Thankful would pull something like this. The woman lives to make me crazy.
He yanked the truck into gear and skidded out of the drive. Did Victoria take the time to ask him about anything Abby said? Did she give him the chance to tell his side? No! He was the bad guy. He was always the bad guy. Nothing he could do would ever be good, or even okay, in Victoria Thankful’s eyes.
Well, what do I care anyway! I haven’t liked that woman from the moment I saw her. He huffed and turned onto the road leading to his house. And yet, I can’t seem to get her out of my mind.
eleven
Chris shut the hood of the car. Three vehicles behind on his schedule, but he had finally figured out what was wrong with Mrs. Mitchell’s car. Walking over to the front desk, he called and left a message that she could stop by and pick it up at any time. He flipped through his appointment book and growled. If he wanted to get through all of them today, he’d have to stay until well after dinner. Noting his filled calendar for the rest of the week, he decided he’d order a pizza and just go ahead and stay.
Dialing the number to his house, he listened to rings and waited for the answering machine to pick up. Abby had gone to the group home with Sondra to visit the kids, so he needed to leave a message for her so she wouldn’t wonder where he was this evening.
Abby’s recorded voice sounded over the phone. She sounded so young, so sweet. It had been more than a year since Chris had thought of Abby and sweet at the same time. He remembered all Victoria had told him two days before. Did Abby really feel he didn’t
accept her? It had been hard for him to switch from brother to guardian. He still struggled with the reality, the truth of it. Of course Abby would struggle, as well.
He thought of Abby sitting beside Victoria during church. Both had smiled and clapped their hands while he played his new song. When the chorus came and he invited the congregation to join him, both seemed happy and ready to join in. In truth, he hadn’t seen Abby that worshipful in over a year.
His mind replayed the rainy day that sent his already faltering world into a tailspin. “I can’t take it anymore.” His mother’s voice sounded as plain as if she stood beside him.
He closed his eyes and saw her standing in the kitchen. Her eyelids were swollen over her dark eyes. Wrinkles spread across her much-too-quickly aging forehead. Graying hair pulled into a haphazard bun, she took a shaky hand and pushed stray strands behind her ear.
“I need some time.” She grabbed Chris’s arms with both her hands. She squeezed him tight, and he looked down and saw the suitcase at her feet. “I don’t have the strength, the energy,” she continued. Sobs wrenched her body, and she released him and shook violently. “I miss him so much.”
“It’s okay, Mama.” Chris gazed past his mother and saw Abby standing in the kitchen door. Her eyes were swollen from crying, as well. “Chris and I will do whatever you need. We’ll keep the house up and cook and whatever,” she simpered.
“No!” His mother squealed back at Abby. She looked at Chris and shook her head. “No.” Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffing, she leaned over and picked up the suitcase. She stood up straight and set her jaw. “I have to go.”
Then she was gone.
Chris peered out the window of his shop. She’d said no good-bye. No “I love you.” No “I’ll come back soon.” She’d simply walked out the door, and they hadn’t heard from her since.
Abby had cried for days, but she didn’t talk about it. He’d been thankful. He didn’t think he could talk about it either. What could he say anyway? He had no answers, nothing that made sense. After his dad died, Chris had worked double the hours to make sure he provided for his mom and sister. Abby helped around the house, as she never had before. There were no logical reasons for his mom to walk out on them.
By His Hand: Truly Yours Digital Edition Page 8