Loving Promises

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  Mildred dropped her handbag onto the table and settled into a recliner. “I did. It was like old times. Seems nice to have so much freedom.”

  Bev’s heart sank, thinking of Dale’s request.

  “I stopped to look at an apartment today,” Mildred said, “but I didn’t like it. It was on the second floor.”

  Bev was grateful her fears of two women under one roof had gone unfounded. “Take your time,” she said, wondering how to broach the topic of Dotty. She finally took the roundabout way. “Dale Levin stopped by Loving Care today.”

  Her mother’s head flew up like a startled bird. “Really? Something wrong?”

  “No. Dotty’s the same.” She lost her courage and segued to a different topic. “He asked me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “A real date? I’m thrilled.”

  “Not really. It’s a favor.” She explained the situation and hoped her mother wouldn’t try to make something of it. “I need a baby-sitter if you’re willing.”

  “Certainly I’ll watch the kids,” Mildred said while a coy smile rose to her lips. “Are you sure this is a favor and not a date?”

  Bev held up her hand. “Don’t start matchmaking, Mom.”

  “Dotty and I both think you’d make a great couple. Don’t push the idea out of your head, Bev. You just never know.”

  Before Bev could respond, her mother shifted forward on the edge of her chair.

  “Speaking of Dotty, I went to see her today. She’s not doing well. My heart breaks for the whole family.”

  The topic gave Bev an opportunity to introduce Dale’s request. “Me, too. Al could really use some help.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’m thinking I should offer to take care of Dotty.”

  Bev tried to hide her surprise. “Dale’s been trying to get Al to hire someone. I’m sure they’d be grateful.”

  “Not hire. Volunteer.”

  Volunteer? “But that’s a tremendous commitment, Mom.”

  Mildred eased deeper into the chair and nodded. “I know. I’ve been praying about it, and I read something in the Bible the other day that made me think about this.” She rose. “Let me get it.”

  Her mother hurried from the room while Bev sat, amazed at the turn of events. More of God’s work, she guessed. Yet she worried about the volunteering part. Certainly her mother could use some extra money to keep her independence and help with her living expenses.

  Mildred returned, carrying the Bible. “It’s in Philippians.” She fingered through the pages until she located the passage. “Here it is. ‘Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus.’” She lowered the Bible and looked at Bev. “That really spoke to me.”

  “It’s easier said than done.”

  “Yes, in some ways it is.” She paused, her gaze drifting across the room. “Al and I were talking the other day and laughed about a pact we’d made each other years ago that we’d always be friends, and even if we were apart, if we needed each other, we’d find a way to be there.”

  “Mom, you said that when you were kids.”

  “I know, but we made a pact, and see what the Lord has done? He’s guided me back to Loving so I could keep my promise, just like the Lord kept His.”

  “God is different than people. I know the Levins need help. Dale’s said the same, but I don’t want you to say you can do something that you can’t. What I don’t like is your volunteering. It should be a paid position.”

  “That’s my decision, Bev. I don’t need the money. Your dad left me well-cared for, and my retirement benefits are fine. That’s not my concern. What I pray is before I commit to anything, I want to make sure I can handle the responsibility.” Mildred looked at her with thoughtful eyes.

  Bev reprimanded herself for her reaction to her mother’s wish. Bev had promised Dale she’d help, and now she’d tried to discourage her mother. Her promise had been an empty one. But why? The answer struck her. She feared her mother would get so busy with the Levins she’d forget about looking for an apartment and lose her interest in the children. Bev’s reaction had been selfish.

  “I know commitments are difficult,” Mildred continued. “You have the kids and so you don’t do much for yourself.”

  “I have since you’ve been here. It’s given me more time for myself.” The truth of her admission poked at her.

  “I look at you and wonder what’s going to happen. You’re so tied up with the kids you have no life of your own.”

  Bev saw it coming again.

  “No husband. You’re too young to be alone.” She lowered her eyes. “It’s not just me, Bev. Dotty would like to see you and Dale get together. She so wants to know he’s happily married before—”

  “Mom, we’ve already talked about this. I find Dale an intriguing man. I like many things about him, but he’s not crazy about kids, and he has no interest in marriage. Anyway, he’s just not my type.”

  “What is your type?” her mother asked.

  Bev gazed at her while the question rolled around in her head. She closed her eyes, almost ashamed that she no longer saw Jesse’s face. The vision she saw was Dale and his haunting eyes.

  Chapter Five

  Dale opened the passenger door for Bev. “You look amazing,” he said, admiring her knit top the color of new grass. She wore a flowery print skirt that reminded him of a spring meadow.

  Meadows and new grass. He cringed, hearing himself blathering poetry. When he’d seen her at her front door, he’d been startled to find himself nervous as a teenager on his first date. And this wasn’t a date.

  Bev thanked him and climbed into his car. He closed the passenger door and rounded the trunk to the driver’s side, slid in and turned the key in the ignition. When he shifted to look out the rear window, Bev’s golden hair brushed against her shoulders and glinted in the setting sun. She really was beautiful.

  Dale backed out of the driveway, and once on the highway, he pulled his thoughts from her to the question that had niggled at him since he’d spoken with her at the grill. “Did you have a chance to talk with your mother?”

  “Actually, she spoke to me first,” Bev said.

  “About caring for my mom?”

  “Uh-huh. She’s praying about it. She always asks God for guidance.”

  Since his mother’s illness, Dale had never asked God’s help for anything. “Do you ask God for direction?”

  “I do, but I don’t always listen. I would handle things much better if I did.”

  Though he smiled at her response, he felt envy. He’d lost the impetus to pray, and he’d harbored so much anger at the Lord he’d become stubborn, though he knew it was a sin. “My folks pray. We grew up saying bedtime prayers and blessings at the table. I don’t anymore.”

  Bev’s head swiveled toward him. “Why not?”

  “Long story. Let’s not go there tonight.”

  Her puzzled expression turned to disappointment, and he knew changing the subject was a must. “I’m amazed your mother brought up the topic first. The coincidence seems uncanny.”

  “It’s not uncanny, Dale. That’s how the Lord works. He sets wheels in motion so that our free will spots a need and we respond. It’s what people do. Christians give the credit to God.”

  Dale gave the credit to Millie and her soft heart.

  “Her praying about it sounds hopeful.”

  Bev nodded, and Dale realized that his earlier admission had undone the easy conversation they’d been sharing. He wanted to kick himself.

  “I’m sorry you don’t believe in prayer,” Bev said.

  His mind went blank. What could he say? “After being kicked around by God a few times, I just gave up.”

  “It’s not God that kicks us, Dale. It’s the evil in the world. The Lord’s willing to take our hand if we ask. I’ve had a few kicks myself, but that’s another story.”

  He wanted to know the story, but the look
on her face told him to tread lightly. “Maybe I’ve been rash,” he said to appease her.

  “I’d say so. You need to open your heart.”

  “If he had one,” Dale could almost hear her saying. He reached across the distance and brushed her hand. “Thanks for putting up with me. I won’t deny I have things to learn, and you’re a good teacher.” He gave her fingers a squeeze, loving the feeling of her slender hand beneath his.

  “It’s nice to hear you say that. We all have things to learn.”

  His chest tightened, seeing her tender smile.

  Ian’s house appeared, and Dale pulled into the driveway. He hurried around the car to open Bev’s door, and as she alighted, a sweet flowery scent drifted past him. She reminded him of springtime and lilacs.

  As they headed up the sidewalk, Ian opened the door and stepped onto the porch to greet them. “Glad you could make it,” he said, “and, Bev, this is a nice surprise. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

  Dale explained as they entered the house, welcomed by an appetizing aroma that filled the hallway. “Dinner smells wonderful.”

  “Esther’s handiwork,” Ian said. “Come into the living room.”

  Dale rested his hand against Bev’s back, guiding her through the archway behind Ian and feeling the warmth of her body beneath her shirt. When he sat on the sofa, Bev joined him and the closeness washed over him. He’d never before felt a connection with any woman as he did with Bev.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute,” Ian said and hurried from the room.

  The wait was short. Ian came into the room carrying a plate of appetizers with Esther behind him, carrying their child.

  Dale rose, feeling awkward for some reason. He knew he should make some cute-baby comment, but it didn’t feel right.

  Esther gave them both a welcoming smile. “Hi, Bev.” She turned toward him. “And you must be Dale. Good to have you both here.”

  Dale grasped her free hand in greeting.

  Ian beamed as he motioned to his son. “This is Tyler. He’s just turned one.”

  “He’s so cute,” Bev said, reaching out to tickle the boy. “I see him in church all the time. He’s always so good.”

  “He’s teething,” Esther said. “So we never know these days.”

  They sat, and Ian passed the hors d’oeuvres. Dale took some kind of crescent roll-up with a paper napkin, and when Ian sat, the conversation began. The subject drifted from topic to topic until it settled on Dale’s mother. Immediately, he tried to think of something to change the subject.

  “You’ve got some boy there,” he said, figuring that should do it. He clapped his hands to get the child’s attention, amazing himself that he’d chosen the baby as his topic rather than anything else.

  “You can hold him,” Ian said, picking up the boy and carrying him over to Dale.

  Dale watched, amazed, as Ian plopped the baby into his lap. “Hello, there, Tyler,” he said, bouncing the child on his knee while trying to look as if he’d done it a million times. He glanced at Bev, aware that she probably guessed he was miserable.

  The baby let out some gurgling noises while a smile grew on his lips. Before Dale noticed, a stream of drool rolled from Tyler’s mouth and dripped onto his hands. He fought the look of disgust that he felt rising to his face.

  “Sorry,” Esther said. “That’s part of teething.”

  She moved to rise, but Bev jumped up first and grasped the cloth from Esther’s hands. She moved toward them and wiped the baby’s mouth, then Dale’s hands. Her smile looked so warm it touched Dale’s heart.

  “Can I hold him?” she asked, giving him a private wink.

  “If you must,” Dale said, hoping she knew he was kidding. Relief washed over him as Bev lifted Tyler and sat beside him again. But reality struck him, too. If he ever, heaven forbid, took the plunge, he’d have to face being a parent.

  Dale shifted his attention to Bev, cuddling Tyler. The boy cooed and grasped at her long hair before yanking at her small hoop earring. Bev didn’t blink an eye. She kept talking and unwound the baby’s hand, then gave his chubby fist a kiss. She was a born mother.

  The revelation raked through him like salt on a wound. He and Bev were totally incompatible. She loved children. He tolerated them at best. She deserved a man excited at the thought of being a father. The unwanted awareness stabbed him. If that were so, what was he doing in this oil-and-water situation?

  Dale swivelled in his desk chair and looked out his office window at the Grand Rapids skyline. On Friday, he’d head back to Loving for a long Memorial Day weekend. He felt unsettled, as if he were on a pulley being yanked back and forth between the two cities and, most of the time, suspended in the air.

  Home had always been a word that meant comfort and security, but in the past couple of years as he’d watched his mother decline with nothing he or anyone could do, home had become a heavy burden. Yet his father’s love for his mother had never wavered.

  Love was a strange thing—a blend of joy and contentment, yet always on the brink of heartache. He’d faced it over and over while his mother’s life was ebbing away. He could do nothing to help her, nothing to stop her. She’d given her all to him, and he’d been a failure to her. Pain surged through him; he already felt the grief and loss he and his father would both feel.

  Life seemed easier without all that. Lonely, maybe, and purposeless at times, but safer. Though angry with God, Dale knew the Bible. He’d been raised in the faith, and he sensed his parents had that perfect love he’d read about in scripture, the kind of love beyond his understanding. He’d never find a love like that nor would he want to.

  As soon as the thought shot through him, a vision of Bev filled his head. He spun back toward his desk, wanting to rid himself of springtime and flowers, the meandering ruminations that filled his mind so often. He needed to get to work and not waste time with his head in the clouds.

  He’d asked himself before why his mind was always wending its way to Bev, and he’d already decided it was to camouflage his fears. Thinking of Bev’s pretty face, her enchanting smile that brightened a room, seemed so much better than picturing his mother’s gloomy bedroom and her misery.

  The phone’s ring jerked him from his thoughts. The voice on the other end of the line startled him.

  “It’s Bev. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  The thoughts he’d just brushed aside floated back. “No. Not at all. I’m surprised to hear from you.” The visions rose again, Bev’s golden hair, her lovely cheekbones that drew his attention to her ever-changing hazel eyes.

  “I got your telephone number from your dad.”

  His chest tightened. “Is something wrong at home?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I’m in Grand Rapids, and I thought maybe I could stop by your place when I’m finished. I’ve never seen your apartment.”

  “You’re here? Now?”

  She chuckled. “Christie Hanuman needed someone to pick up supplies for Loving Care and I volunteered. It’s like a half day off with pay.”

  He heard the smile in her voice.

  “I’d like to see you.” He felt a grin of his own. “I’ll make dinner.”

  “I can’t stay that long.”

  “We’ll see,” he said, giving her directions. When he hung up the phone, he fell back against the chair. Bev in Grand Rapids. Bev at his apartment. Bev in his world.

  Bev stood on the apartment stoop and pushed the bell beneath Dale’s name. She heard a resounding buzz, caught the door handle and opened the door. She headed for the elevator, and when it arrived, she pushed the button for the tenth floor.

  She couldn’t believe she’d been this nervy. It had taken her an hour to collect the courage to call Dale, even though she’d planned it.

  Bev figured having a look at a man’s apartment might give her clues to who he really was and what he liked. So many questions had filled her head since the last time she’d seen Dale. Bev didn’t know why she felt so dr
iven to save Dale from himself. Since she’d visited his family’s home, she’d witnessed many of his fine qualities—his love and concern for his parents, his thoughtfulness, his devotion. She knew he was a man worth saving.

  What troubled her was his relationship with God. What made her curious was his attitude toward children and marriage. He’d related his viewpoint more than once. Bev wanted to understand and to help him see things differently—not for herself, but for him and whoever he might fall in love with one day. The image charged through her like a volt.

  The apartment elevator swished open, and Bev stepped into the carpeted hallway. She checked the wall sign, saw his number and turned left toward the front of the building.

  His hello sailed from his doorway to greet her, and she felt a smile blossom on her face, like that of a teenager gaping at the boy of her dreams. Bev couldn’t believe she’d lost control of her senses.

  “Hi,” she said, reaching him. To her surprise, he bent down and kissed her cheek. A hot flush crept up her neck, and she averted her face so he wouldn’t notice. “Nice place,” she said, blabbering comments while trying to calm herself.

  The apartment was attractive—masculine colors, but open and warm with wide windows letting in the sinking sun. He had a leather sofa and matching love seat situated for conversation but also for a view of the city through the glass. Lights had begun to come on in the surrounding buildings, and Bev figured that at night the sight would leave her with a lonely feeling.

  “Please,” Dale said, his arm sweeping the length of the room. “Have a seat.”

  She dropped her handbag on a nearby chair and wandered toward the view. “You can look out on the world here.” And hide from it, she thought.

  “The sunsets are nice,” he said.

  His response made her wonder if he liked the view all that much. “Is it lonely?”

  She saw him lift his shoulders, his gaze still directed through the window. “I’m used to being alone.”

  Alone and lonely were two different things, she thought.