by Janet Spaeth
Chapter 3
Ric watched from the back door of the church as Lily cranked open the windows of the little trailer. He’d helped unpack her car and then left her alone to get settled. Todd raced back and forth between the swing set, the slide, and the door that Lily had propped ajar.
The refrigerator there had been filled with food earlier in the day, and the cupboards were stocked. He had even put shampoo and soap in the miniature bathroom, trying to make the old trailer as much like their home as possible.
With Todd beside her, she stepped out of the trailer and began to cross the short distance to the church. Suddenly she stopped and knelt, drawing Todd to her side.
What was she doing?
He chuckled as he realized what was going on. She lifted up a finger, and although he couldn’t see what was on it, he recognized the stance.
She and Todd stared at her fingertip and then watched something as it flew away. They looked at each other and smiled as they stood up.
“We found a ladybug,” she said when they reached the door of the church.
“You’ll see lots of them here,” a voice behind him said as a stout middle-aged woman joined him.
He grinned. “Lily, this is Marnie Rygg.”
“Marnie, it’s good to meet you. This is Todd, my son.”
“I don’t know anyone named Marnie,” Todd said.
“Now you do,” Marnie answered. “And you know what? Until thirty seconds ago, I didn’t know anyone named Todd. But now I do!”
“Really? That’s cool!” Todd was clearly delighted with this information.
“Marnie is the church secretary, organist, choir director, organizer of weddings, baptisms, and funerals—usually in that order—and just generally our jill-of-all-trades,” Ric said. “Her husband, Sam, is the jack-of-all-trades here. He does about anything that requires pounding a nail or sawing some wood. I’m afraid Pastor Mike and I are not very good at that kind of thing, so we rely on him. The three of you will be working together to get the day care set up.”
“I’m really glad you two are here,” the older woman said.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Ric said. “Say, Marnie, any word from Pastor Mike yet?”
“The last I heard, nothing had changed,” Marnie said, her face saddening.
“Pastor Mike is the senior minister here,” Ric explained to Lily. “His mother’s been gravely ill, so he’s been spending as much time as he can in Fargo with her. He’s been trying to commute and get back here for Sunday services, but I don’t know if he’ll be able to keep that up.”
Ric said a quick prayer for both the senior minister and his mother. His own parents lived in Florida, so he didn’t see them as often as he’d like, but he knew how distraught he’d feel if either of them were ill.
“I was going to take Lily and Todd inside and show them around the church a little later on,” Ric said to Marnie.
“I’m ready now,” Lily said. “Actually, I’d like to get started as soon as possible.”
The church office was a small room off the main entrance. Boxes spilled out from it into the hallway, and Ric noted Lily’s questioning face.
“Donations. Folks from all over the world have poured their hearts into helping us. We’ve got volunteers sorting through those cartons.”
A breeze blew in through the open window, stirring the leaves on the plants along the side of the desk.
“My poor babies,” Marnie said. “These plants are straggling back to life. They didn’t get watered during the flood since no one was here, naturally, but they’re coming back, even though they look like green string right now.” She lifted the thin leaves of the nearest plant and cooed at it sympathetically. “My darlings. But we’re back now, and they’ll get super care and grow up big and strong.”
Ric’s eyes met Lily’s over Marnie’s head, and they both grinned.
“I imagine they’ll thrive,” Lily said, “considering the love and care you give them.”
“I don’t think they have any choice,” Ric said. “Once they’re in Marnie’s care, they have no choice except to live. Ladies, let’s continue the grand tour. The headquarters of the day care operation is in the education wing. I set up an office there for you.”
The room he led them to was even smaller than the office, and it was occupied by two gray folding chairs and a stack of files and a pencil and paper on a scratched brown metal table. He watched her as she glanced around what would be her work home.
He began to explain. “We got our power restored early, thanks to a church member who’s an electrician. And I should explain that the part of the church where we have a day care set up didn’t take water, since it’s raised up a bit, so don’t worry about the sewage. It didn’t get there. And any lingering smell will be gone as soon as we do one more round of bleach.”
“All because of the flood,” she said, her voice low. “I just thought it was water in the houses, but everything is affected, isn’t it?”
“It pretty well leveled all the services in town,” Ric admitted.
“But the people I’ve seen so far—I mean, admittedly I only saw them in their yards—they were all so happy and open and friendly. How can they be like that?” She looked at him, her eyes pooling with tears.
Ric exchanged a quick glance with Marnie, who laid her hand on Lily’s arm. “Lots of reasons. They’re in the stages of grief right now, and they’re on that ‘we’ll rise above this’ level. It’s a fantastic stage, when people are almost euphoric and banded together to achieve the goal of recovery.”
“So it’ll all vanish in a few weeks?”
“No, not necessarily,” Ric responded quickly. “But other aspects will become superimposed and take precedence. They’ll have to go through frustration and anger yet. Those are the ones that are difficult for the relief workers to deal with.”
“Let’s look at the day care, or what will soon be a day care. Right now it’s basically a babysitting service,” Marnie said. “It’s just down the hall. You’ll love it. It’s wonderful.”
Lily’s face brightened when Ric opened the door of the day care.
It was a big, cheerfully decorated room filled with toys and games—and children. Todd’s eyes lit up with delight. “Am I going to play here?”
“You sure are,” Ric answered, and the boy ran to meet his new playmates.
A woman waved at them as she read a story to a circle of children. “That’s Eileen.”
“Will she stay on?” Lily asked.
“I hope so,” Ric said, avoiding the question in his own heart: Will Lily stay on?
“The day care is housed here now,” Marnie said. “This is technically our nursery, but it’s making do. After the lower level dries out—and the smell is gone—we’ll move it downstairs. It’s a bit crowded in here, and it’s too far away from the playground for our tastes.”
“We can go down there later,” said Ric. “It’s still pretty messy on the lower level.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you put a day care in a basement?” Lily asked.
“It’s not really a basement,” he responded. “It’s kind of a garden-level arrangement. It’s in the little addition behind the original church, which is where we’re standing now.”
Her confusion showed on her face, and both Marnie and Ric laughed. “This old church has been through many renovations and additions in its lifetime,” Marnie explained. “Luckily it’s never been big enough to become a monstrosity.”
“I think it’s charming,” Lily said. “I’d like to look through the files and get started right away, if it’s okay with you.”
Ric almost laughed. Nothing had ever been more okay with him!
Lily straightened her back and rubbed the nape of her neck. One look at the clock told her why she was so stiff. She’d been bent over the files for nearly three hours.
The stories she’d seen there were the same odd mixture she’d seen at the Nanny Group. The heart-wrenching personal histories
sat right next to, or sometimes were embedded into, the impersonal government documents that were nearly clinical in their language.
She inclined her head one more time and buried her face in her hands. What had she agreed to do? What did she know?
So many people were depending on her, and she had in front of her such a monstrously large task that she could easily fail. Did she have what it would take to do this job and see it through to the end?
“Dear Lord …,” she said aloud. She couldn’t form the words to finish the prayer.
She realized after a moment that she was not alone in the room. She glanced up in surprise and saw Ric standing there.
“My mama taught me never to disturb a praying woman,” he said.
He came into the room and perched on the edge of the table.
“Oh, looking through the files, huh? That bad?” He picked one up and leafed through it idly. “This project seems to have come to us gift-wrapped in red tape. If you can make your way through it, more power to you.”
“It looks like the initial okay came through fairly quickly,” she said.
“Well, it was because of the flood that we got permission to open so quickly. Let’s face it: This place would never pass inspection, and even if it could, we don’t know a thing about running a day care center.”
“I’m not clear on one thing,” she said. “Do you intend to keep this open on a permanent basis?”
He shrugged. “Right now we’re living one day at a time, not out of choice but out of necessity. We’ve been toying with the idea, but to be honest, we haven’t come to anything conclusive. Right now we’re just concerned with getting up and running as legitimately as we can and as quickly as we can. We can operate on this emergency basis only so long. And we want to be able to provide the parents—and the children—with some kind of stability. Heaven knows they deserve some after everything they’ve been through.”
A wry smile twisted the corners of his mouth. “Well, I get a bit passionate about this, in case you can’t tell. It’s just that my frustration level with bureaucracy goes sky-high.”
“They do make you jump through a lot of hoops, I know that,” Lily said.
“Sometimes I can’t help but think they do it only to see if you’ll jump,” he said, a surprising edge of bitterness scraping his words.
She shook her head. “It seems like that, but I don’t think that’s it. You know, whenever I’d get frustrated while I was at the Nanny Group, I’d remind myself who and what was at stake: the children. And then everything puts itself right into perspective. I’d rather they made everyone jump through the hoops and then turn around and jump again, if that’s what it took to ensure a good environment for the children.”
He looked at her with those eyes as clear blue as a summer sky. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he acknowledged. “I really hadn’t. But put that way, I have to admit it makes sense.”
Lily toyed with her pen reflectively. “You do what you need to do to get through the day.”
“Excuse me?”
She realized what she had said—and how much she had almost given away. “Nothing. Nothing. It didn’t mean anything.”
Ric eyed her speculatively. “If you say so. Well, what I’m here for is not to discuss governmental policies and regulatory practices. Say, you and Todd haven’t had a chance to settle into your new home yet. Do you want to go to dinner tonight?”
“Yes! Yes!” Todd’s voice answered enthusiastically from the door. “Let’s go! Where are we going?”
“There aren’t any restaurants open in town yet,” Ric said. “So we’ll have to drive about half an hour to get to anything. Star City has a great steak house, a pizza place that’s good, and a little café that serves terrific hot beef sandwiches. Take your pick.”
She looked at Todd, who was fairly bursting at the seams with impatience. “Hmmm. Which to choose, which to choose.”
“Pizza! Pizza!” he shouted, jumping up and down.
She smiled at her son and then at Ric. “We’d be delighted to have pizza with you tonight.”
And a delight it was. Pizza Wonderama was clean, the food was good, and above all, Todd was on his best behavior.
Ric grinned at her. “Don’t you ever feed this boy?” he asked as Todd reached for his fourth large slice of pizza. “He hasn’t even slowed down yet.”
Lily ruffled her son’s hair. “Feed him? What a novel idea. I could, I suppose. But that’ll wreak havoc with my budget.”
“Put him to work,” Ric suggested, pretending to size Todd up and squeezing the boy’s biceps. “He’s pretty strong. He could probably build houses or something and bring in some extra cash.”
Todd looked first at his mother, then at Ric, and back at his mother. “I’m too little to do that,” he protested. “I can’t work. I’m just a kid.”
“We’re teasing, tiger,” Lily explained. “I’d never let you go to work building houses.” She glanced at Ric and winked. “For one thing, you don’t have a contractor’s license.”
“What’s a contractor’s license?” Todd asked, taking another bite of his pizza.
“It’s a paper you need to build houses,” she explained. “And since you don’t have one, you’ll just have to stay with me until school starts this fall. I’m sorry, son, but working is out.”
He shook his head as if to say “Grown-ups!” and bent over his pizza again.
It seemed so natural, the three of them sitting there together. It was as if they’d always been together.
Lily thought more about it on the ride back to Wildwood in the evening twilight.
She’d occasionally worried about whether Todd missed having a father around. He’d never mentioned it, and it was true that with people she knew through work and church, he’d known many men who’d treasured him and treated him well.
But none of them, she reasoned, had the commitment that being a father would bring to the relationship. Did Todd miss it?
She wondered if there was a way to explore his mind a bit more and see if he was happy without a father. Although, she had to admit, there wasn’t a lot she could do about it.
It wasn’t like daddies—and husbands—grew on trees.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Ric said as he pulled his car into the parking lot behind the church. Summer evenings stayed light long, and sunlight still washed across the trees.
She didn’t dare tell him. Instead she said, “A penny? That’s all?”
He chuckled. “Well, it is the going rate.”
“I’ll take the penny,” Todd chimed in from the backseat, and they laughed.
“I’d better get this guy into a tub,” Lily said. “Thanks, Ric. We had a great time.”
Half an hour later, his bath taken, his pajamas on, they went into his new bedroom.
“Wow! Look at this!” Lily pulled down the cover on Todd’s bed. “Race-car sheets!”
“Cool!” Todd jumped onto the bed and bounced experimentally. “I like this bed. I wonder who picked out the sheets. Ric, probably.”
“Probably,” she agreed. “Do you want me to listen to your prayers?”
“Nah,” Todd answered. “I’m into saying them in my head now.”
She ducked her head to hide her smile. “That’s fine. Now go to sleep and have sweet dreams about all your new friends here in Wildwood.”
She’d just turned off the light when he spoke again. “Mom?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Do you like Ric?”
She stopped, her hand frozen on the light switch. “Yes, Todd. I think he’s very nice.”
“Nice enough to kiss him?”
Her hand jerked, and the light came back on. “What on earth—?”
He grinned at her. “Just checking. I know you wouldn’t kiss him. And he wouldn’t kiss you either. No matter what.”
Her heart flipped. “Why do you say that, Todd?”
His answer was short and to the point: “Cooties.”
; Chapter 4
She managed a brief laugh and said something meaningless that apparently satisfied her son because he settled into a quick sleep.
Kissing Ric? What on earth would he come up with next?
She couldn’t make herself settle down. Too much had happened in such a short time, and through it all ran the image of Ric kissing her.
It was silly. She barely knew him.
But you were willing to totally change your life because of him, a little part of her mind pointed out, and she had to acknowledge that it was true. There was something about him that made her trust him—but that wasn’t the same as wanting to kiss him.
The mobile home was comfortable, but the days at Shiloh had spoiled her. She hadn’t realized before how much she missed the feel of fresh air on her skin. Now she was almost addicted to it.
Marnie had left a pair of canvas-backed chairs and a small table on the patch of dirt and scrubby grass by the door to the mobile home, and Lily transferred herself out there.
A breeze whispered through the deep green leaves of the elms that arched overhead. Lily had never heard anything as beautiful as that soughing sound. It was a balm on her heart, a heart that was beginning to come back to life once again.
This was the cool of the evening. The early summer warmth of the afternoon had given way to the soft comfort of a gentle zephyr that lifted her hair from her neck and invited her to relax. It was her favorite time of day.
“Mind if I join you?” Ric materialized from the gathering darkness.
“No, not at all. I’d welcome the company.” She motioned toward the twin of the chair she occupied. “Working late tonight?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Tonight and every night, to be honest. I don’t know how being gone for one week to Shiloh can put me back three weeks here. That just doesn’t fit into the time-space continuum I’ve always known and trusted.”
The trees cast moving shadows across Ric’s face, drawing her attention to the dark hollows under his eyes. He was clearly exhausted.
“It is one of the universe’s greatest mysteries, I agree,” she said lightly.