Loving Promises

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  “I’ll be glad to help,” Mildred said, pushing herself up from her chair.

  “No, Mom, please, you relax. This won’t take long.”

  “I’ll help her,” Dale said, rising and piling the soiled plates into a stack.

  Mildred didn’t argue and settled back into her chair. Bev gathered an armload and Dale followed.

  Al watched them clear the table. He’d covered his feelings all day while Dale and Dotty were there. With Millie he could be honest. He watched Dale and Bev disappear into the house, and his heart lifted. He wondered, hoped that maybe the Lord had brought the two together for a deeper purpose. When he shifted his gaze to Millie, he let out a sigh so ragged it rattled through him.

  “It’s getting so difficult, Millie. It hurts me right here,” Al said, pressing his hand against his chest. “I love her so much.”

  “I know you do.” She reached out and patted his arm. “I felt the same when I lost my husband, but you know, life goes on, as they say. In time you adjust.”

  Al looked at her, remembering how pretty she was as a young woman. Yet he could still admire the matured version she was now. “Sometimes it’s unbearably lonely.”

  “It is,” Millie agreed.

  “I’ve wanted someone to talk with for so long. Then you came back into my life.” He shifted in his chair. “I can’t talk with Dale very well. He doesn’t want to deal with the emotion. Yet, he’s been a good son. So faithful to us. So concerned.”

  “I’m happy to see Bev and Dale get along so well, but Bev tells me they’re only friends.”

  Al gave her a grin. “The best marriages are made of friends first, then romance. You agree, Millie?”

  “I agree.”

  “Funny, we never got serious about each other,” Al said. “Dotty said the same to me.”

  “I valued your friendship more than romance. Those were a dime a dozen. Good friends are a blessing. And speaking of friendship, I’ve been thinking.”

  He listened as Millie read his heart. She knew he needed her, and here she was volunteering to care for Dotty.

  “I’d like to relieve your mind,” she said when she was finished.

  “Millie,” he said, searching her eyes. “You’re a gift from the Lord. I don’t know how long she has, but…” He choked on his words and couldn’t finish.

  “I’d feel blessed to help you if you’ll have me.”

  “You’re the answer to my prayers. I’ll talk it over with Dotty. She’s always been our orchestrator, the one who made sure everyone was taken care of. Nowadays she has so little control over anything, I want to let her make every decision I can.”

  “Yes, that’s the right thing to do.”

  “So little I can do,” he said. He rested his palm against Millie’s arm and gave it a squeeze. His words of thanks had caught in his throat and if he forced them out, he’d embarrass himself with tears.

  The Lord is my strength, Al repeated in his head as they sat in silence.

  Bev glanced out the Levins’ kitchen window to check on the children. She saw her mother and Al deep in conversation, and though she was curious, she went back to the sink. She scraped and rinsed while Dale slid dishes into the dishwasher. Occasionally, she glanced out the kitchen window to check on the children and was pleased to see them playing peacefully.

  “Kristin’s birthday is coming up. I think I’ll look for that toss game. They seem to enjoy it.”

  “They’re being good,” Dale said, so near her he made her jump.

  She turned and found him close enough to breathe in his distinctive aftershave. She needed to guard herself. “By the way, thanks for playing catch with Michael.”

  Dale shifted back a little, giving her breathing room.

  “He needs a lot of attention,” Dale said. “I watched him eat it up today when my dad and I were playing with him.”

  Bev felt herself shrink with his words. She could be a good parent, but she could never replace Jesse.

  Dale tilted her chin upward and looked in her eyes as if he knew what she was thinking. “You can’t be everything to him, Bev. He’s a boy, and boys are different. Boys need more direction.”

  She nodded and tried to ease around him, but he didn’t move.

  “Look at Kristin. She’s a girl and you’re all she needs.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, but I’m all she’s got.” She shifted her gaze out the window again. “I don’t know anything about sports. Michael probably should join Little League or something.”

  “That would help.” He searched her eyes. “You really don’t want to marry again?”

  Surprised, she shook her head.

  “For me, it’s different,” he said. “I’ve never been married, but you were once, and from what you’ve said, I think it was satisfying.” He eyed her. “Or am I wrong?”

  “No, it was good…most of the time.” She faltered over her response, jarred by the truth, but she had promised God for better or worse. “I look at it this way. A man can only add complications to my life.” She paused before she admitted the rest. “Complications and fear. I don’t want to find myself facing another tragedy that’ll throw our lives out of balance again. It took too long to feel alive. I don’t think I’m willing to face it again.”

  “What makes you think you’d have to face a tragedy?”

  She glanced through the window. “Look at your dad. Look at you. You’re on the brink of a sadness that will change your lives forever. I’m not willing to deal with it again.”

  Dale drew back and shoved his hands into his pockets without speaking. “Love’s not worth the risk?”

  “You tell me. I don’t see you taking a chance.”

  A sudden look of surprise shot across his face. “I guess you got me there.”

  She found her chance to escape and walked to the refrigerator, noticing Kristin’s drawing already attached to the door. She opened it and slid in a dish of leftovers. When she turned back, Dale was watching her.

  “Michael’s seven?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Last April. Kristin will be five at the end of the month.”

  “Five’s pretty important. I suppose she wants a party.” He turned on the tap and swished a plate beneath the water.

  “I don’t know for sure, but we’ll do something.” She carried another stack of dishes to the sink and rinsed them under the tap while Dale added them to the dishwasher.

  “I just read in the paper about the Grand Haven Sand Sculpture Contest at the end of June.” He turned toward her, still clutching a plate while water dripped to the floor. “Maybe you could take her to the beach to see the sculptures. Michael might enjoy that, too.”

  “Thanks for the idea,” she said, setting another container into the refrigerator. Bev noted he didn’t offer to go, but he did make the suggestion. “I’ll leave it up to Kristin. She can decide.”

  He turned off the water and wiped his hands on a towel, then ambled toward her and put his arm around her shoulder. “Good idea. Kids need to learn to make decisions. Then when she’s an adult, she can make wise choices. Know what I mean?”

  When she looked up, Dale’s gaze penetrated hers. He lifted a finger and ran it along the line of her lips. She caught her breath and turned away. She needed to get a grip on herself. Friendship wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

  Chapter Seven

  Bev curled up on the sofa, her eyes aimed at the television while her mind was somewhere else. The house was quiet. The kids had gone to the park with a friend’s parent, and Bev had opted to stay home. Sometimes she needed a few minutes to herself.

  Today her thinking weighed heavy. Since her serious talk with Dale about being friends, she’d enjoyed his company. He was only around on the weekends, but she found it a wonderful diversion from her usual Saturday of house-cleaning and kid-entertaining.

  But since the Memorial Day picnic a week ago, she’d had second thoughts. How could a comfortable friendship agitate her so? Bev let the sensation roll o
ver her again. She’d gone from tolerating Dale to liking him, and now she couldn’t get him out of her mind. He caressed her thoughts like satin sheets.

  The situation opposed her plans. She’d wanted an easygoing friendship—a companion, not someone who occupied her mind much of the day. Bev hoped it was only the newness of the relationship. Despite her hesitation, she felt a new sense of purpose knowing Dale would be coming for the weekend. He’d plowed into her life and changed it. But how could she be friends when her heart was pulling her in unwanted directions?

  While the light from the TV flickered across the room, Bev closed her eyes and sent up a prayer. She needed God’s support and strength. She needed to stay firm in her conviction that marriage wasn’t for her or for the good of the children. They came first. She really liked Dale and enjoyed his company, but she would never change him. Kids weren’t his cup of tea…or coffee either. Friendship was one thing, but when her mind willed itself in a direction beyond she needed help.

  A portion of a Bible passage flew to her mind. The Lord is my strength and my shield. What was God telling her? She understood the strength part. She needed that, but what about the shield?

  As the words wound through her, she felt her heart skip with awareness. God had heard her prayer and sent her the verse to give her a warning. Did she need to protect herself from Dale? She’d already alerted herself to the problem. Whatever the Lord meant, she prayed He would continue to guide her footsteps.

  Sounds from outside caught Bev’s attention. She rose and snapped on the porch light as her mother came up the front steps. Bev opened the door to greet her. “You look tired, Mom.”

  Mildred stepped inside; she was more silent than usual, and Bev knew something was wrong. “This has been a difficult day. Dotty’s not doing well, and I stayed for Al.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “An infection. She was running such a high temperature I called the doctor, and we took her to Emergency. They did a catheterization and gave her antibiotics. She’s home now, but it’s not good.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Bev said, giving her mother a hug.

  “While we waited, Al kept repeating over and over that I was the answer to his prayers.”

  “And you are, Mom. God led you here to Loving for this purpose.”

  Mildred relaxed her shoulders, made her way to an easy chair and sank into the cushion. “I reminded him of our promise years ago. I know if the tables were turned and Al knew I needed him, he would be there for me.”

  Bev wasn’t sure, but knowing her mother and Al, she wouldn’t be surprised. They had the kind of friendship that seemed so rare, a true love and devotion without the romance—the kind of relationship she’d love to have with Dale. Still, Dale’s belief that every person only had one soul mate didn’t fly when she thought about her mother and Al. They seemed perfect friends. Soul mates.

  “Al called Dale and talked with him about Dotty’s condition. He was upset, naturally. He said he’d try to take a few days off to spend more time with his mother. I told Al to tell him I’d be there and not to worry, but Dale said he would come anyway.”

  “She’s Dale’s mother. It only makes sense he wants to be with her.” Bev felt a cold chill settling over her. She prayed her mother would use good sense at the Levins’. Dale and his father needed time alone. She longed to say something, but the right words wouldn’t come without hurting her mother’s feelings.

  “Speaking of Dale, he asked me to go to the boat races on Saturday. Maybe the new problem with Dotty will change that, but if not, will you watch the kids?”

  Mildred did a slow turn as if she were in a dream. “Saturday? It depends. Not if Al needs me.”

  “That’s fine. If he does, I’ll get a baby-sitter.” She studied her mother for a moment and took a chance on speaking her mind. “You can’t be there every minute of the day. When Al’s home or Dale’s there, you can give them a chance to spend some time alone with Dotty.”

  “Do you think I’m interfering? I’m a nurse, Bev. I’m not meddling in their lives.”

  “I didn’t suggest you were. I only meant you might want to be sensitive to their needs.” Dale’s needs were her real concern.

  “I’m a professional. I have good sense, Bev.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  But did she? Her mother had already been spending all day and into the evening at the Levins’ without being the official caregiver. What would happen when she was?

  Dale glanced at Bev, then back at the traffic. He’d never seen her so stressed.

  “The evening started off badly,” he said, knowing she’d had a difficult time with the kids.

  “Can you imagine hearing your daughter scream ‘I hate you?’”

  Dale couldn’t imagine having a daughter, period.

  Bev lifted her fingers and massaged the center of her forehead.

  “Headache?”

  She gave him a fleeting nod. “I feel like a rubber band being pulled in every direction. I’m ready to snap.”

  “You’re a frustrated mother.” He placed his arm around her shoulders. “You know psychology. Kids want attention. If they don’t get attention for being good, they get it for being bad. That’s what happened today.”

  “Never mind. It’s my problem.”

  “Not anymore. It’s the baby-sitter’s.” Dale reached across the seat and brushed his palm along Bev’s arm. “The kids wanted your attention tonight. You were leaving without them. You rarely do that. So they didn’t know how else to get your attention except by using the way that they know best.”

  She grimaced. “And they got what they wanted.”

  “Only in part.” He hated to see her so frustrated. Parenthood wasn’t for him, especially if it were like this all the time. He left his hand resting against her arm, moving it in slow circles and hoping she understood he cared. “The kids got your attention, but it didn’t work. They wanted you to stay home, but you didn’t. That’s a mark in your favor.”

  “I don’t know why I let them rile me,” Bev said. “I go off like I don’t have a brain in my head.”

  “You’re frustrated.”

  “What would you do?” she asked.

  “Let them make decisions. Give them options—but you pick the choices. You’re a child-care worker. Treat your kids like you do the ones at Loving Care.”

  She stared at him as if she’d never realized the connection. “It’s easier there.”

  “Because you have nothing vested. You care about the kids, but they’re not your flesh and blood. That changes everything.” And how well he knew that.

  Dale wanted to beat his head against a wall for letting Bev get under his skin. A woman with kids. He knew better. Talk about making choices. He’d let his heart make the choices and not his head.

  “I use choice options at work,” he said. “It’s a tremendous way to let people think they’re deciding when you’ve set up the limits.”

  She nodded. “Give me an example.”

  Dale scrambled for an idea. What did he know about kids? “Okay.” His mind grasped at choices. “Here goes. ‘Michael, you can watch TV for a half hour, or you can play the game with your sister and then watch TV until bedtime. You decide.’”

  Bev’s face brightened. “I suppose I do give limited choices at the day care.”

  They drove a block before Bev broke the silence. “I thought you didn’t know anything about kids.”

  He glanced at her, then back to the traffic. “I don’t. I’m using common sense. I’m no authority, Bev. I’m just tossing out possibilities to help you. I suppose I should keep my mouth shut.” How many times had she told him to stay out of her business?

  She tugged at her seat belt so she could shift to face him. “No, don’t. Sometimes I get irked when you butt in, but I’m getting to know you better. You’re trying to help.”

  Help. He’d needed that himself for a long time. He still did. “I am. Friends help friends, Bev. You’ve given me food for tho
ught more than once. I’ve even picked up my Bible a few times.”

  “But did you open it?” A faint grin joined her hopeful expression.

  “I have. Even read some passages.”

  She nodded, her face looking more content than he’d seen it since she’d climbed into his car.

  Dale turned his attention to the highway, but his thoughts lingered on Bev. His heart went out to her—raising two kids alone, learning to live without a marriage partner and adjusting to a new job. Even one major life change was hard to handle. Thinking of his mother’s illness, Dale could relate.

  A partner. That’s one thing he missed staying single. Someone special to share his time and thoughts. He had buddies, but that was different. Men talked sports and cars. They discussed politics and the latest TV programs, but they didn’t talk about what was in their gut. Never. But with a woman, he could talk about how deeply he worried about his parents and how much he enjoyed a sunset.

  He gazed into the bright summer sky and yearned for something he couldn’t put his finger on. Lately, Dale had realized he didn’t have much to make his life worthwhile. He did his job well. He loved his parents and honored them, but besides that, he hadn’t made a mark on the world. If he died tomorrow, he’d be forgotten once his folks were gone.

  People with children left something important behind. Another human. A whole lineage of people. Look at Sarah and Abraham. He thought of the biblical “begats” that he’d always found so boring when he’d read the Bible years ago, but now that he thought about it, maybe the Lord was saying something to humankind. When we create a life, we leave our mark on the world.

  Bev would leave her mark with two children. Though kids could be frustrating, he’d watched Bev’s face light up in those moments when the kids were thoughtful or fun. He couldn’t imagine having a child of his own, part of him that would continue after he was gone.

  He halted his thoughts and turned down Howard Street to Harbor Drive. When he came to the harbour-front parking lot, he pulled in.