Milk Money

by Cecelia Dowdy

  Christine spoke. “Emily, what’s been going on with you?”

  Emily stood. “Hold on, my throat is dry. Let me get a glass of water.” After filling a glass, she guzzled the cold liquid down, relieving her parched throat. When she sat back down, she told Kelly and Christine about her conversation with Frank.

  “He offered you that money because he loves you!” said Kelly.

  Emily wondered if Kelly was telling the truth. “Loves me? Frank doesn’t love me. He’s never told me this.”

  Christine interjected. “I haven’t had a serious relationship in years, but from my limited experience, love is very complicated.”

  Emily clutched the receiver. “How do you guys know Frank loves me?”

  Kelly sighed. “You should see the way he stares at you in church! He loves you, girl. I don’t know why he hasn’t told you yet, but I’m sure he’ll tell you eventually.”

  “I don’t think he loves me.”

  “Yes, he loves you, Emily,” Christine said. “Now stop being so hardheaded about it and accept it for what it is.”

  They talked for a few more minutes before finally saying good night. But her friends’ words rang in her ears as she trudged up the stairs to get ready for bed.

  Frank struggled through life the next few weeks. The urge to drink washed through him in waves, and he spoke to Devon daily. The older man had advised him to take it one day at a time. “That way your whole situation won’t seem so hopeless,” he’d said.

  Emily filtered through his mind constantly, and he still wanted her to accept his offer of help for her farm. When his boss had called him into his office again, he’d reminded Frank that his temporary venture to start up the farm and ranch accounting division of their company had come to an end. “You’ve done an awesome job, and you’ve worked a tremendous amount of overtime. Would you like to stay as part of the farm and ranch division here in Baltimore, or would you rather return to Chicago? The choice is yours.”

  He walked along the grounds of the Cylburn Arboretum in Baltimore City, his boss’s words running through his mind like a speeding train. Since Frank had agreed that it was best he return to Chicago, his boss had hired a replacement for him. The company event at the Arboretum was a threefold celebration: Frank’s going-away celebration, the new hire’s welcome party, and a celebration of the success of their new division.

  His company had rented a room on the first floor of the building, and when his coworkers drank glasses of champagne, Frank thought he would lose his mind. He’d frowned when the alcoholic beverage was popped open by a catering employee. As the beige-colored liquid was poured into glass flutes, his boss must have noted his reaction when he’d approached him. “Don’t frown so much, Franklin. We’re off the clock now, so we can have a drink to celebrate our success. We do the same thing when we have our Christmas party every year.”

  Frank had nodded, heat rushing through him. His boss had placed his hand on Frank’s arm. “You look like you could use a drink. Let me get you a glass.”

  Frank had shaken his head. “No. I’m not feeling too good right now. I think I’ll go for a walk on the grounds.” He’d practically fled the large mansion and onto the landscaped property. The warm sun soothed him as he walked farther away from the building. He finally found a bench outside in the massive garden. Colorful butterflies fluttered above the large expanse of flowers. The rainbow of blooms created a carpet of color, surrounding him with their scent. The leaves on the nearby trees were turning color, hinting at the autumn weather that was coming soon. “Lord, what am I going to do?”

  He continued to take pleasure in his surroundings as thoughts filtered through his brain. He recalled Devon’s advice. “Give the Lord a chance, son. That’s about all you can do to keep the alcohol away.” Emily’s sweet face came to mind, and he recalled her words of wisdom as they’d shared dinner together. “Frank, you can’t control your life. You’ve got to let God help you.”

  He recalled Julie’s happiness once she’d accepted Jesus into her life. Tears stained his cheeks as a black and yellow butterfly hovered around his bench. He wiped his eyes, realizing he couldn’t control his life on his own anymore. He needed help—in the worst way. “Lord, help me. I’m a sinner; please help me, Lord.” His shoulders shook as he cried and accepted God’s grace for his sins.

  A few days later when Emily returned home from running errands, she was shocked to see Frank’s Lexus parked in her driveway. He’d been to church the last couple of Sundays but had rushed off before she had a chance to speak with him. Her farm’s fate weighed upon her mind, and she realized that once Laura returned, they would need to sit down and decide what to do about the back taxes owed on their property.

  She exited her truck, holding several bags of purchases. Frank sat on her screened-in porch, waiting for her. His trusty leather briefcase stood upright on the floor, and she wondered why he had brought it with him. They gazed at each other, silent.

  “Hi,” he finally greeted.

  The bags grew heavy in her arms, and she almost dropped them before Frank came to her rescue. “Here, let me help you with those.”

  “Thanks,” she mumbled. They carried the bags into the house and placed them on the table.

  He touched her shoulder. “You look tired. Are you okay?”

  “It’s been a rough day.”

  “Did something happen?”

  She dropped her purse on the table. “Yes, the inspector showed up this morning.” Emily explained how the inspector would show up unannounced periodically, making sure their dairy farm fit the government’s standards.

  “Did he find anything wrong?”

  “No, but he sure tried. He was here long enough, poking around. I just wanted him to leave.”

  “Did anything else happen?”

  “Thunderbolt got out.”

  “Huh?”

  “Thunderbolt is one of the cows. She’s feisty and fast. She’s new to the milking herd, and when Jeremy and I were letting the cows out to graze this morning, Thunderbolt ran right past us.” She pouted. “It was awful. We ran into the street to get her back. It took us a whole hour to coax her back to the farm, and she held up traffic.”

  He glanced around the silent house. “Is Laura here?” he asked.

  She placed a carton of milk in the refrigerator. “No, she’s still in California.”

  “When will she be back?”

  Emily sat, suddenly too weary to put the rest of the groceries away. “She’ll be back next week. She has to start working at the cafeteria again because school’s already started. She called the school, and they said she could start a couple of weeks late. The C-section is about healed, and Becky’s getting used to the baby’s constant demands.” She talked about her stepsister’s plight for a few minutes before she realized she was babbling. “I know you didn’t come here to get an update on Becky’s health.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Sunlight streamed into the bright, airy kitchen, highlighting Frank’s pleasant features. Emily realized she could just sit and stare at this man forever. She pushed the thought from her mind, realizing there was little hope for them to have a relationship. He lifted his briefcase, placing it on the table. Snapping the gold locks open, he removed a sheaf of papers. “You never took the final paperwork for the audit of your farm.” He placed the cream-colored papers on the table.

  “Thanks.”

  “As soon as I leave, I want you to promise me you’ll look through all this.”

  She gestured toward the papers. “I’ll get to it eventually.”

  He shook his head. “Please promise me you’ll at least glance through them after I’ve left.”

  His dark eyes were full of sadness when he gazed at her, and she wondered if everything was okay. “I promise.” When silence weighed heavily in the kitchen again, she spoke. “You just came to bring me the papers?”

  He sighed when he sat. He ran his fingers over his short dark hair, and the familiar gesture warmed her hear
t. “No, that’s not the only reason I came.” He paused. “I’m going back to Chicago.”

  Her heart stopped. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wouldn’t kid about this, sweetheart.”

  “But … but why?”

  “I told you that I was initially here for a temporary time.”

  “You can’t stay?” she mumbled.

  He shook his head. “I’d like to but …” He balled his hands into fists. “I have to make things right with my folks.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think I have much time left, so I have to go home.”

  “Did something happen with you parents?”

  “Trish called me a few hours ago. My dad’s had a stroke.”

  “Oh no! Will he be okay?”

  “No, the doctors don’t expect him to live long. I have to go home.”

  She patted his shoulder. “Of course you do. I’ll be praying for you and your family.” So many questions littered her brain like unwanted weeds in a garden. Would Frank be coming back? Would this be the last time she’d see him? Would he ever accept Christ?

  “I don’t know when I’ll be strong enough to come back.”

  She took his hand. “Frank, please give God a chance. Just come to Him as you are, and He’ll accept you. He’ll give you the strength to get you through anything. You don’t have to fix yourself before you come to Jesus.”

  “I’ve given up alcohol for a short time, and it’s been terrible.” He told her about his experience at the Cylburn Arboretum. “Emily, I’m a sinner in the worst way. Even before my father had a stroke, I was still planning on going to Chicago.”

  His words surprised her, and she realized they could find a way to make it work between them with the Lord’s help. “Frank, we’re all sinners. Although you say you’ve accepted Christ, it sounds like you’re still harboring guilt. Jesus doesn’t want us to feel guilty. Let Him take all that guilt and sadness off your shoulders. Jesus has already paid the price for all our sins. If you follow the Lord, that’ll give you the strength you need.”

  “I’m a new Christian, and I’m still trying to make my life right. I don’t know how long I can stay away from alcohol, even with the Lord on my side.” With his father’s predicament, he knew he’d find it hard not to drink. “It’s unfair of me to want to be with you, knowing I’m so weak.”

  His words made her speechless. She stared at him, drinking him in, not knowing what to say or do. Soon he was beside her, and his lips touched hers in a brief, tender kiss. She didn’t realize she was crying until Frank gave her a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “Are you coming back?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t know. I’d like to come back when I feel I’m no longer a threat.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m an alcoholic. You’ve never seen me when I’m drunk. It’s not pleasant. It’s not right for me to be with you if I turn back to the bottle again.”

  “We could try. With the Lord’s help, we can make it work.”

  “I have faith, but I don’t think my faith is as strong as yours. I’m still praying about it, asking the Lord to lead me into doing the right things. I know He wants me to return to Chicago and spend some time with my dad since I don’t know how long he will live.” He glanced away for a few seconds. “My mother’s always depended on my dad, and I think it’ll break her if he dies.” He looked at his watch. “I have to get going.”

  “So you’re driving back?”

  “Yes, I had a moving company come and take my stuff to Trish’s house. She lives in a large home outside of Chicago, and I’ll be staying with her until I’ve made other living arrangements. The movers left this morning, and Trish is expecting them.”

  “Can we at least keep in touch? I’d like to know how your father is doing.” She also wanted to know how Frank was doing.

  “Yes, I’d like that.”

  She wanted to know if he wanted her to wait for him, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice those words. He gestured toward the papers before removing his car keys from the pocket of his jeans. “Be sure to keep your promise to me and read those papers after I leave?”

  She nodded, still speechless. The screen door banged shut when he left, and gravel crunched beneath his tires as he drove away from the farm.

  She watched Frank’s burgundy Lexus until it disappeared from view. She then took the stack of papers he’d left and sat on the porch.

  The letter was from Franklin Reese, CPA, stating the validity of the financial papers and the results of his audit. Emily didn’t understand most of the terms and language, but she recognized a lot of the stuff Frank had shown her at the restaurant the other day. The papers outlined the violations her father had committed and recommended going to the IRS with a payment plan to repay the back taxes. He’d also placed a side note, stating that his replacement, Melvin Sparks, could be entrusted to contact the IRS on their behalf and with filing the amended returns. If they repaid the money, he doubted there would be a lot of trouble from the government agency.

  There was also a bill enclosed, noting Frank’s hours, but the bill was marked PAID IN FULL. Emily fingered the cream-colored stationery, shocked that they did not have to pay for Frank’s labor.

  Frank had also enclosed a check for enough money to cover the balance due to the IRS. She hugged the envelope to her chest. “Oh, Daddy, why did you have to die? Why did you have to be so dishonest?” She sniffed, crying tears of grief. Lord, what am I supposed to do now? Daddy’s dead, Frank is gone, and Laura won’t be back for a while. I feel so lost and alone, Lord. Please help me find some peace.

  After much prayer, thought, and deliberation, Emily decided to accept Frank’s gift. The day she deposited the funds, she fell on her knees, saying a prayer to God.

  eleven

  As the months passed following Frank’s departure, Emily found that her thoughts of Frank continued to haunt her. He e-mailed her a few times, and she knew his father had eventually died. She’d wanted to call him, but she wasn’t sure if he wanted to speak with her. She moped about the house, did farm chores, and helped their hired workers harvest the corn. Kelly and Christine came over often, and they called periodically, but her friends couldn’t cheer her up. One day after church in November, Emily and her stepmother went downtown for a lazy afternoon. They stopped at the Baltimore Cupcake Company for a snack. Both of them chose chocolate truffle cupcakes with beautiful floral-patterned icing to go with their cups of Café du Monde.

  They sat at a table, and the brilliant sunlight spilled into the space as they ate their treat. When Emily finished her cupcake, she was almost tempted to lick the stray icing from her fingers. “I wish I could have another one.”

  Laura gave her a mischievous grin. “Why don’t we get another?”

  “Mom!” Emily patted her hips. “I don’t need the extra calories.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re so thin, and you’re always out there doing farm chores. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Feeling naughty, Emily complied and returned to the counter, purchasing them vanilla truffle cupcakes. Once they had finished their second round of cupcakes, Emily sipped her coffee. “Are you glad to be back in Monkton?” she asked Laura.

  Laura shrugged. “I miss your father. But it is nice to be back and into a routine again. I like working at the school cafeteria and seeing the kids every day.” A wistful look crossed her face as she stirred her coffee.

  “Mom, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting like something’s been on your mind since you returned from Becky’s.”

  Laura shrugged. “It’s nothing I feel like talking about right now.”

  Emily tasted another bite of cupcake, figuring Laura would tell her what was on her mind when she was ready. She gazed at the street, thinking about Frank and the last words they’d exchanged before he left for Chicago.

  “You’re thinking of Frank, aren’t you?” asked her stepmother, sipping her coffee.

  Emily placed her cup on the t
able. “How did you know?”

  “I can always tell when you’re thinking about him.” They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the cars pass by on the street.

  “I was just thinking about how I got to know him while he was here.” She told Laura about the close bond he shared with his nephew and about how he used to mentor teens at the rec center in Chicago. Emily thought he’d make a great father but didn’t want to voice that opinion. If she dwelled on that too much, it would just make her long for something that might never happen.

  “You know, you’ve been through a lot lately.”

  Emily shrugged, sipping her hot drink. “I guess so.”

  “I have a suggestion to make.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I wondered if you wanted to go and visit your cousin Monica in Ocean City for a week.”

  “But what about the farm?”

  “I’ve already spoken to some people, and we have enough extra help so that you can go on a vacation. You need it. When I was in Florida following Paul’s death, it did wonders for my mental health.”

  “I don’t know.” She kind of found some solace just spending time with the animals each day.

  Her stepmother touched her hand. “You’ve been moody lately, and I know Frank really hurt your feelings when he left. I think a change in scenery may help you out of your mood.”

  When Emily finished her coffee, she told Laura she would call and check with Monica. If she said it was okay, she’d take her vacation the following week. Maybe the change in scenery was what she needed.

  The following week, Emily arrived at her cousin’s house. Monica and her husband, John, welcomed her into their home. She also got a chance to visit with Monica’s sister, Gina, and Scotty, Gina’s blind nine-year-old son. The child read a lot of braille books and magazines, and Monica confided how Scotty’s educational needs were what brought her together with John. She’d explained that John was Scotty’s tutor, and that was how they’d met.