Somebody hollered at him from the front office and told him Jennie was on the phone for him again.
“What did you decide?” she asked him.
“I haven’t decided anything,” he told her pointedly. “You told me you’d give me some time to think about this.”
“I’m calling again to convince you that you have to do this, Mr. Draper,” she said, the excitement in her voice beginning to wash over him, too. “My editor at the Times-Sentinel has just given me permission to do a series of cartoons to promote the event. And I’d love to do one of you—flattering, of course—” she added, laughing. “We’ll have cameo appearances from all the other celebrities. But you’re the perfect person to be our master of ceremonies for the show.”
“You’re sure about that.”
“I wouldn’t be bothering you like this if I wasn’t.”
He wanted to consider it. But what would happen between him and Andy at this posh media event?
“Well, you’ve talked me into it. I’ll be there,” he said, as Marshall walked into the front office and shot him an A-okay sign. “Let me know when you’ll need me.”
“I’ll send you a script and a list of the acts,” she told him gleefully. “You don’t need to follow the script, though. You can ad-lib all you want to. It’ll be fine with us.”
“Ad-libbing?” he asked, chuckling and wondering about Andy again. “You’d better watch me close if you’re going to let me ad-lib. Or else I’ll probably get myself into lots of trouble.”
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning just after the little van had come to pick Cody up for school, a pickup truck pulling a horse trailer pulled up to the curb and stopped. Jennie heard the commotion and she peered out through the lace curtains to see who it was. Out stepped Michael clad in faded jeans and an old blue flannel shirt she knew he’d had forever. He looked so handsome and so familiar. She opened the door without giving him a chance to knock.
“Hi,” he said. “I knew you’d be home. I tried to call but the phone was busy.”
“I’ve been working on the show for the swim team.” She stood staring at him, not inviting him in.
“Can I come in?” he asked finally.
The awkward moment went on a bit too long. “Oh, do.” She stepped back and he entered and, as he stepped onto the carpet, she noticed the gray antelope boots he was wearing. “You make a good cowboy.”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “All I need’s the hat.”
“Everything’s coming together for the fund-raiser. It’s going to be quite a production. Mark’s already got the kids practicing, too.”
“I think you should work on the fund-raiser tomorrow. I’ve got two horses out there—” here he put on his best cowboy swagger and voice “—that are just hankerin’ to take you for a ride across the blacklands of North Texas.”
“Oh, no!” She started to giggle. “You’re crazy. You know that?”
“I have something important to talk to you about. Get into your jeans. We’re going for a ride.”
“Michael.”
He saw all her doubts on her face. “Come on, Jennie. The horses are all loaded up and waiting. Don’t turn me down now.”
She considered. “I’ve got to get back by four-fifteen. That’s when the van brings Cody back from school.”
“That’s fine. We’ve got all day. We’ll beat the traffic back into town.”
Jennie changed quickly and rejoined him downstairs, her heart thumping like a schoolgirl’s all over again.
“These are Bill Josephs’s horses,” he told her as they climbed into the truck. “You remember him? He’s been my patient a long time. They used to have a ranch over on Preston Road. Now they have a little place out past Mesquite.”
“I do remember him. His wife’s name is Marge?”
“That’s him. They don’t use the horses much anymore. He said he’d love for us to take them out and give them some exercise.”
“So…where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“We need to make plans for Cody to come to your place,” she said in an effort to fill the silence. “You want me to bring him over on Sunday?”
“Let’s talk about that later.”
He just kept driving. He drove them far north of Plano to a pretty house atop a knoll that had acres and acres of land and a perfect white fence lining the driveway. Down past the house on the other side of the drive stood the corrals. He backed the trailer in and climbed out to unload the horses.
“This place is beautiful,” she said, climbing out of the truck and crossing her arms over her pretty blue sweater. “Are the owners patients of yours, too?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Just somebody I know.” That was all he intended to say for now.
She stepped over to the side of the knoll and looked across the pasture that was just now beginning to tinge with the green of early springtime. “You can see for miles.”
He came to stand beside her, leading a horse. “That’s pretty much what Texas is known for, away from the city.”
She turned to him, only a breath away, her skin as soft and pink in the cool morning air as the embroidered roses on her sweater. It was everything he could do to keep from kissing her. But he wasn’t going to do that, not while he still had so much to tell her.
He handed her the reins to Bill Josephs’s chestnut mare and he lifted her easily so she could mount. She kept the horse still, waiting for him, while he led the other horse, a dun, out of the trailer. But he waved her on. “Go ahead, Jen. I’ll catch up with you.”
“You don’t mind?”
He shook his head.
She kicked the horse and they were on their way. “See you in the pasture!”
Michael watched them both for a moment, smiling at the two bouncing ponytails as they disappeared just over the knoll. He saddled up his own horse and hurried to catch up. “Hey, you!” he called as he galloped up beside her. “I didn’t know you were going to ride across half the county!”
“This feels wonderful,” she called back, laughing. Her wheat yellow hair was streaming back behind her and she had tears running down her cheeks from the wind. “I know it sounds wild,” she told him. “But I feel so free right now. After everything that’s been weighing heavy on my life for so long.”
They rode along together in silence. It was one of those precious days when the black earth and the tender sprouts of grass poking up through the brown smelled herbal and rich and full of promise.
“What are the horses’ names? Did Bill tell you?”
“He told me,” Michael answered her, smiling. “He treats these horses like they’re his children. Your horse is Kimbo. Mine is Dan.”
“Cody would like to ride sometime. Do you think Bill would let him?”
“Bill’s been suggesting it.” Michael chuckled. “Bill has a lot of suggestions.”
She tilted her head at him and grinned. He loved watching her. She looked like one of the little sparrows that kept twittering and rising from the pecan trees around them. “Dan is a pretty common name, but I wonder where he got ‘Kimbo.’”
“I think he named her after his daughter.”
She laughed. “An honor, I’m sure.” She laid long, slender fingers against the horse’s neck. “You’re a good girl, Kimbo. A fine horse.”
They rode farther, neither speaking.
“You want to race?” Michael suggested.
“Do you know something I don’t know?” she asked him. “Which one of these horses is faster?”
“I have no idea. That’s why I wanted to race. We could find out.”
She leaned low over the chestnut’s neck. “Okay. You’re on.” Before he knew what was happening, she was galloping ahead of him like a Kentucky Derby jockey and the distance was spreading.
“Hey!” he hollered. “I didn’t say ‘go!’”
“No,” she shouted back, pulling even farther ahead. “I did.”
He spurred
Dan and the horse leapt forward. Michael felt as if he were flying as he pounded after her. The distance began to close. Up ahead, he could hear Jennie laughing and urging Kimbo on. “Come on, boy,” he whispered. “Let’s get her.”
Dirt flew up in clouds from Kimbo’s racing hooves. Jennie’s ponytail was long gone. Her hair flew out from her head like a banner.
He’d just about caught up with her. They raced together across the field toward an unknown goal, running just for the joy of running, the horses flank to flank, the sweat pouring from beneath their saddle blankets despite the cool day.
Dan inched up now, slowly, slowly, until his nose bobbed up and down directly beside the horse he challenged. And then, at long last, the nose went past and the race was over. “I won! I won!” Michael shouted as he pulled up. He winked at her. “That was the finish line back there.”
“No,” she said in her soft Texas drawl. “There wasn’t a finish line. I just wanted to see how far I could go before you won.”
“Ha!” he said, throwing his head back and wiping sweat off his face with a shirtsleeve.
“We got pretty far,” she added, grinning.
“Thank you,” he said. “For letting me win.”
“Thank you,” she said. “For the race.”
“There’s a creek up ahead. We probably ought to let these guys rest and have a drink.”
“Sounds fine to me,” she said. “You know the lay of this land pretty well, Michael.”
“I’ve walked it several times.”
They came toward the creek. The horses began to nicker as soon as they saw the water. Michael and Jennie loosened the reins and the horses lowered their heads. Dan and Kimbo snorted and sucked water with such relish it made Michael smile. “Sounds like a herd of elephants drinking here instead of two horses.”
“We ran them pretty hard.” But she didn’t really participate in the joke. Her mind was somewhere else.
Jennie’s senses were suddenly filled with her ex-husband, filled with the nearness of him, with the warm gamy smell of the horses, the creaking of worn leather.
She reached across and touched his hand where his fingers lay open atop the knotted reins.
He turned to face her. “They’ve had enough to drink, I think,” he said quietly. “We’d best get them out of this creek.”
He turned his horse back toward the house and Jennie followed him, seeing how serious he was, hoping she hadn’t done anything wrong. They’d ridden without saying anything for what seemed like forever before he turned to her. It was time he told her what he’d brought her here to say. “There’s something I’ve been praying about, Jen. In my heart of hearts, I feel it’s what my Heavenly Father wants me to do.”
“What?”
“I’m letting go. I’m letting go of everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m giving you full custody of Cody, Jen.”
Shock silenced her.
“My lawyers have been working on it. All they need is your signature.”
Jennie stared at him, stunned. She pulled the horse to a full stop. “After everything you fought for, Michael? Why? Why now?”
“Jen,” he said, stopping Dan just beside her. “I’ve watched you give Cody everything you had to give him.”
With tears in her eyes, she nodded.
“It’s what I know I have to do. I don’t want him to have to go back and forth between us. I want him to have one home, one life, where he belongs.”
“Until he’s stronger?”
“No. Until forever. In a home where he belongs.”
“But…Cody…” It was all she could say. She reeled from the enormity of his sacrifice.
“It’s too hard for him to keep going back and forth. I’ll be in his life as much as I always have. But this will give him the strength to keep doing what he needs to do.”
The tears began to course down her face. Michael grieved, too, but he didn’t regret what he was doing.
This is what love is, he thought. This is what God had showed him. Love, different in countless ways from what he and Jennie had shared before. Love, free from suspicion and guilt and jealousy. Not romance but love, tempered to strength on the anvil of what they’d been through—a broken marriage—a son’s illness—a binding faith.
“I’m afraid,” she told him quietly.
“Because you’d have him all to yourself?”
Reluctantly, she nodded.
“But you won’t be by yourself,” he said, his own tears threatening again. “I’ll be there, too. I’ll always be there for you and Cody. Remember that.”
This time, it was Michael’s turn to reach across the horse and touch Jennie’s hand.
“Michael,” she said. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
She gripped his hand, held on to it as tightly as she wanted to hang on to him.
Gently, tenderly, he lifted her hand, their fingers intertwined, until the back of her hand rested against the cool skin of his cheek.
Chapter Eighteen
Andy cleared out all the equipment from the gym at Children’s one morning, leaving only the tumbling pads and parallel bars, which she placed in the center of the room. Jennie drove Cody to the hospital and Michael met them there. Michael and Jennie watched anxiously as Andy and an assistant lifted their son from the wheelchair, one of his little arms wrapped around each of their shoulders, and maneuvered him toward the equipment.
“Here you go, kiddo,” Andy told him as she helped him circle his fingers around each bar. “This is it. Time to stand up and show all of us what you’re made of!”
“I’m a kid,” Cody told Andy. “You know what I’m made of. Skin and stuff.”
“More than that,” Andy shot back at him. “I’ve seen you work.” She nodded at the assistant and the man took on the full brunt of Cody’s weight. Andy stepped out between the bars in front of him. “Now. It’s time. Let’s see you straighten those legs and put some muscles to use. There you go. Ease it down. Think about what you’re doing.”
Cody’s eyes locked with Andy’s. Jennie held her breath. Michael’s mouth moved in prayer. Cody’s legs buckled beneath him and he began to sink. Andy caught him and helped pull him back up.
“No,” Andy said. “Not like that. Think strong. Think legs of steel. Decide you’re a robot, like C3P0 on Star Wars, and you’ve got to lock your knees and raise yourself as tall as you can.”
“C3P0’s a droid,” Cody argued, obviously trying to keep everyone’s mind off the task at hand.
“Whatever he was,” Andy shot back. “He stood strong and tall and helped Luke Skywalker.”
Andy nodded at the assistant again.
He relinquished his grip on Cody a second time.
“Now, Cody,” Andy urged. “Now.”
Beside the door, Michael gripped Jennie’s hand in his own.
“Please, Cody,” Jennie murmured. “Please try.”
“Come on, son,” Michael chimed in. “I know you can do it.”
Cody’s knees turned inward…outward…one outward and one inward again…and the little boy’s posture started to crumple. Again the assistant rescued him.
“That was better,” Andy encouraged him. “You balanced a little bit longer.” She knew she had to encourage him. Cody had one more chance. If he couldn’t do this, she wouldn’t do much more with him today. They were all expecting an awful lot of him. It was best if they didn’t tire him out. “I want to see you try it one more time.”
“I don’t want to try again,” he said, whining.
“I remember when you used to try everything. You do this and you’ll be back on the right track, kiddo. You just wait and see. You’ll be so glad if you try.”
This time, Andy’s words seemed to spark something within Cody. He shook his head and squared his shoulders and sighed as he tried again.
“That’s it…” Andy egged him on. “Come on…come on…”
/> Michael clenched Jennie’s hand so fiercely she scarcely had feeling in it anymore. She gritted her teeth and held her breath as she silently prayed for Cody.
“You can do it, Cody,” Andy whispered to him. “I’m proud of you! I see you trying! I know you can!”
For one instant…maybe less than an instant…it seemed that Cody was bearing the brunt of his own weight. His legs wobbled…once…twice…and he lost his balance. He began to topple. The assistant moved to grab him but he missed.
“Ooof,” Cody grunted when he hit the ground. And, as Michael and Jennie ran to him and Andy lifted him up, Cody began to cry in earnest.
“I hate this!” he bawled as tears of frustration streamed down his cheeks. “I hate my legs. I hate my head. I hate having to fight to make things work right.
I hate this.” He started pounding the mats with his hands. “I—hate—this!”
“Cody, son,” Michael said, reaching out to him. “Your mother and I—we hate it, too. But you’ve got to keep fighting to stand, to get well.”
But Cody would hear none of it. “I don’t care what you and Mom think. I don’t care what you and Mom do!” he shouted. “You two are the dumbest parents alive. You don’t even understand.”
Michael felt his anger rising. He did his best to keep it in check. “You watch yourself, young man. I don’t want to hear that tone of voice from you again.”
“You aren’t being fair!” Cody shouted at him. “You and Mom aren’t being fair!”
Jennie knelt beside them both. “Cody. We want to understand you and help you with everything you’re going through. But you’ve got to try to help us.”
A new flood of tears began. “That’s just it, Mom! That’s always it! All you tell me anymore is try. Try, try, try—I’m sick of trying.”
“That’s because we know what’s best for you,” they said together, precisely in unison. It would have been funny if Cody hadn’t been so upset.
“You tell me to fight all the time and to try and wish for one thing and you tell me not to fight and to wish for another,” he cried at them. “All the time I can see that it’s you and Dad who aren’t trying….”
Family Matters Page 17