Vow to Cherish

by Deborah Raney

  “Hello?”

  “Julia, it’s John.”

  “John! Hi!” He didn’t often call her at home. She sounded surprised. And pleased. “How did the wedding go?”

  “It was beautiful. It was a nice weekend.” Unexpectedly, sadness overwhelmed him. This was goodbye, and he knew she heard it in his voice.

  “John? Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, Julia. It is, and it isn’t.”

  “John? What’s wrong?”

  The compassion in her voice drew him like a magnet. This wasn’t going to be easy. “I have to talk to you, Julia. But…not on the phone.” Impulsively he asked her, “Could you get away tonight for a while?”

  “The boys are at Martin’s folks. They won’t be back till around ten. Do you want to come over here?”

  He hesitated. He’d never been in her house before. “Yes, if you’re okay with that. Ten minutes?”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  He felt as though he’d already blown it. He could hear the anxiety in her voice. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to suffer long. In an hour it would all be over. They would be over.

  He drove through the streets of Calypso, quiet on a wintry Sunday evening. Julia’s porch light was on. John parked on the street and walked across the front lawn. She met him at the door and let him in without a word.

  Her house looked much as he had imagined it. Earthy colors. Just cluttered enough to be warm and welcoming. One wall across from the fireplace lined with bookshelves. Original paintings on the wall. Classical music on the stereo.

  She led him to the sofa in front of the fireplace where a huge log crackled and spat at the grate. She sat down across from him in Martin’s recliner, pulling her stockinged feet up under her.

  “Tell me.”

  Her words shocked John. They reverberated back through the years. The same two words Ellen had spoken that night forever ago when they’d found out about the Alzheimer’s. How many times would he have to answer these words of a woman he loved?

  “Julia, something happened to me at Brant’s wedding. I’m not sure I can explain it clearly to you, but it…It’s as if I’ve been blind for a long time, and suddenly, I can see. Oh, where do I start?” He sighed and fell quiet, thinking. He was glad Julia didn’t try to fill the silence.

  Finally he let himself meet her gaze. “Julia, I’m going to tell you some things tonight that I’ve never told you. But before I say anything else, I must tell you that I came here tonight to say goodbye. When I leave here, it will be for the last time. I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about that.”

  Julia’s bottom lip began to tremble, and tears slid, unblotted, down her cheeks. John watched her, knowing his words had caused her pain. It tugged at his heart, but he knew he had to continue.

  “Julia, I’ve been fooling myself. I think we’ve both been fooling ourselves. We thought we could be just friends, but for me, at least, that’s been impossible. I’m pretty sure it’s been impossible for you, too.

  She looked at her lap, twisted a tissue between her fingers.

  “I thought so,” he said. “I’m sorry, Julia. As much as I didn’t intend to, I’ve fallen in love with you.” He held up his hand. “It may not be appropriate for me to tell you this now, but I want you to know that you’re a woman a man can easily fall in love with.”

  “John…” She sniffed and wagged her head.

  “No, hear me out. I know you’ll find someone. You’ll get married again. I’ve tied you down in the name of friendship, and that hasn’t been fair to you. There’s been a lot of unfairness all around on my part.” He hung his head, struck anew with shame over what he had almost allowed to happen.

  “But more than anyone, I haven’t been fair to Ellen. At Brant’s wedding, when he and Cynthia spoke their vows, I felt as though a bolt of lightning went straight through me. Julia, I stood at an altar nearly thirty years ago and promised Ellen that I would love her in sickness and in health, and I have. I’ve never stopped loving her—the real Ellen. But there’s another phrase in the vows that says, ‘and to thee only will I cleave.’ I made that promise to Ellen also. I promised it for as long as we both should live.”

  She looked at him with watery, red-rimmed eyes.

  “Julia, if I stay with you another day, I will break every one of those vows. I can’t do that.”

  He told her then about his father and about the oath he’d taken when his father died. He realized now that the reason he had never told her the story before was that it would have required too much of him. He would have had to face the duplicity of his behavior and the compromise of his principles. He hadn’t been willing for that.

  “I know I will never have Ellen back the way she was, but I renewed my marriage vows to her this weekend, and God has renewed my love for her. I can’t explain it, and I know it won’t be easy, but I intend to keep every one of those vows if it kills me.”

  Julia got up and went for a box of tissues. When she sat down again, she blew her nose and wiped away the mascara that smudged her cheeks. “I—I’m okay,” she reassured him. But her sobs came in racking heaves now.

  It tore him apart. “Oh, Julia, if we’d met in another time, another place…” His voice trailed off. Hadn’t he always told her it was no use thinking about what might have been? “You’ve been such a great joy to me, but in these past weeks you’ve also become a great temptation, and I don’t think those two things can be allowed to exist in the same person.”

  She nodded understanding and drew in a ragged breath.

  “Most importantly,” he continued, “I’ve kept you from going on with your life. For that I need to ask your forgiveness. I recognize that I’ve been flirting with sin, and I’m so sorry I involved you. Please forgive me, Julia. I’ve been so wrong.”

  He went on to tell her all the thoughts he had pondered since Brant’s wedding—how he had prevented her from grieving for Martin as she should, how unfair he had been to tie her to himself. And when all his words were finished, he waited for her to speak.

  She took a deep breath and dabbed at her nose again. She looked so beautiful in the light of the dying embers, her eyelashes still spiked with tears. On the stereo, a violin concerto played softly, making the moment unbearably heartrending. John almost asked her to turn the stereo off, but somehow the music seemed fitting, and he let it go.

  She looked at him and spoke in her soft, throaty voice. “John, it’s probably no surprise when I say that I’ve fallen in love with you, too. And I love you all the more for what you’ve just told me. You see, I fell in love with you because of your trustworthiness, your integrity, your sense of honor. I’ve been in such turmoil since I first realized that I love you. I knew if I could get you to declare your love for me, then you weren’t the man I thought you were. And if you were that man of integrity, then I knew I could never have you.”

  She smiled sadly. “Now I have the best of both worlds—I know you love me, and you still have your honor. I do forgive you, John. In the deepest part of my heart, I haven’t felt right about us. I need your forgiveness, too, for not listening to God’s gentle voice warning me. I was an accomplice, John, and I’m sorry.” Again, she attempted a wavering smile. “Thank you, John. Though it doesn’t feel like it right now, I know this decision is a gift. I know it’s right. And, I know God will bless it.”

  They sat together and shared aloud how blind they each had been to think their friendship was right when they had felt the need to keep it secret. She’d neglected her boys at a time when they needed her desperately; he had given his time and energy to her, rather than to Ellen. Further, their growing love for each other had forced them to turn from God for fear of their relationship being exposed for what it really was.

  In a new love of unblemished purity, they released each other forever. John rose to go, and Julia followed him to the door. He did not embrace her or even touch her. He didn’t trust himself yet, and he knew Julia respected his weakness.
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  He turned out of her driveway—not toward Oaklawn, but toward his true home. Where Ellen was.

  It was after nine when he walked through the front doors of Parkside. The nurses’ aides were in Ellen’s room, helping her get ready for bed.

  “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.” He dismissed them politely.

  Ellen stood statuelike in the middle of the room with her back to John. He went to her, and putting his hands gently on her shoulders, he turned her to face him, speaking her name softly.

  Her eyes showed no recognition, but she gave him a wan smile. She wore a long flannel nightgown, and behind the vacant eyes, she was still beautiful. He led her to the chair by her window. He picked up her hairbrush from the bureau and began to brush her hair with gentle strokes, surprised at the familiar feel of the soft curls. It had been so long since he’d touched her in such an intimate way. She was quiet, alone in that faraway place of hers.

  John smoothed her hair with his hands, moved by the tenderness his actions evoked. He poured her a glass of water and held the cup while she drank from it. He turned the bed down and helped her swing her legs over the side. He plumped her pillow and gently tucked the blankets around her. She closed her eyes peacefully. He pulled a chair beside her bed and watched her sleep, memories of their shared past floating in the semidarkness until the lights in the hallway were dimmed.

  In a choked whisper, he repeated his wedding vows, promising to cherish her all the days of his life.

  Then he went home and climbed into his own bed, at peace with himself and at peace with God.

  He knew it wouldn’t always be this easy. He knew there might be more babbling and tantrums, and uncontrollable weeping in their future together. More frustration and anguish.

  He also knew that he had done the right thing. He could look in the mirror and, without shame, face the man he saw reflected there. Whatever he must bear in the days to come, he knew his faith and God’s grace would bring him across to the other side, however wide the chasm might be.

  His Bible was lying on the nightstand, and he noticed with chagrin that a fine layer of dust had gathered on its dark cover. Swinging his legs out to sit on the side of the bed, he opened the book in his lap and leafed through the pages, yearning for comfort and confirmation. Under his fingers the pages fell open to the book of Job. The words jumped off the page as though they were printed in boldface: “Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him…. Indeed, this will turn out for my deliverance….”

  John closed the book and slipped to his knees in gratitude.

  Julia

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The pungent scent of wood smoke hung in the crisp autumn air, and the yellow leaves clung tenaciously to their branches, rebelling against the inevitability of winter’s arrival.

  The small stadium—home of the Calypso Wildcats—was filled to capacity. Red coats and jackets predominated on the home side, while blue blazed across the field where the visiting Tannersville Tigers had assembled. Throughout the bleachers, steaming Thermos bottles filled with coffee and hot cocoa warded off the chill. Spectators clapped their gloved hands together, their breaths hovering in wispy clouds in front of their lips.

  The football field was still lush and green. The chalk lines fresh and unmarred under the bright lights. Whooping at the top of their lungs, the Wildcats broke out of the dressing room under the stadium and ran onto the field. They held their helmets aloft, smelling another victory to add to a long string of wins.

  Andrew Sinclair led the team onto the field and then crossed to the center to meet with the captain of the opposing team. The two players conferred with the referee, shook hands and turned to run in opposite directions back to the sidelines. Midway, Andy slowed, looked up into the stands and raised a clenched fist to the sky. Although his mother was seated high in the reserved section, he searched the crowd until he caught her eye, and she returned his salute of victory.

  This pregame salute had become a talisman for Andy, and Wildcat fans had been quick to pick it up and make it a ritual of sorts. Now three hundred spectators followed suit to Julia’s raised fist while the marching band blared out the school’s fight song.

  Julia still had a hard time grasping how quickly her boys had grown up. Andy was following in the footsteps of a big brother who had broken a bevy of Calypso’s records. Sam was playing junior college football now. When he could, he came home to watch Andy’s games, but his team was playing out of state this weekend.

  Julia loved the energy that flowed through this stadium every Friday night. And she was unabashedly proud to sit here as the mother of the team’s star running back.

  The fight song ended in an uproar, and when the noise finally died down, a deep voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen…”

  The voice belonged to John Brighton. Julia couldn’t help turning to look up toward the press box. She saw him standing behind the statisticians, microphone in hand. A little chill went up her spine. She quickly shook off the unwanted feelings and turned her attention to the man beside her.

  John’s voice echoed again across the field. “Welcome to tonight’s game between the Tannersville Tigers and the Calypso Wildcats.” Again the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers. “Please rise for our national anthem.”

  Julia pushed the stadium blanket from her knees and stood up. Beside her, James Vincent put one hand over his heart, the other gently, but possessively, on Julia’s back. She looked up at him and smiled.

  Julia had met Jim at a church picnic six months ago. She and the boys had begun attending a small community church near their house, and one Sunday afternoon, Julia decided to attend a spring picnic the church was sponsoring. Feeling uncomfortable and out of place at first, she found herself seated across from a soft-spoken, friendly man. Jim was tall, balding and very attractive. She was drawn at once to his kind spirit. Over fried chicken and potato salad, they struck up a conversation. Julia learned that Jim’s wife of sixteen years had left him (and a teenage son and daughter) to marry another man. Almost two years later, he was still reeling from the rejection.

  At the end of the evening, clumsily, he asked Julia for a date—his first since his college days. Attracted to this man, and feeling a kinship with his suffering, she’d accepted.

  Jim was kind and intelligent and had a wonderful sense of humor. He had been born and raised in Calypso and had served as city administrator in the town for the past fifteen years. Julia admired Jim’s dedication to his career and his obvious devotion to his still heartbroken children.

  She and Jim had found solace in their shared sorrows, and Julia had grown comfortable with Jim. They’d become somewhat of an “item” around town, and though the term “going steady” seemed a bit juvenile to Julia, she supposed that they were.

  Now Jim cupped his hands and shouted across the stadium as the game began. “Go Wildcats!”

  She smiled at his enthusiasm for her son’s team. She was a lucky woman.

  Calypso won the toss and the crowd stayed on its feet for the kickoff. The Wildcats received and ran the ball back to the forty-yard line. When the two teams squared off at the line of scrimmage, Andy carried the ball all the way for a touchdown in the first play of the game.

  Julia shot out of her seat and jumped up and down, cheering, her cheeks flushed from excitement and the cold. By the end of the half, Calypso was ahead twenty to seven, and by night’s end, they had walked away with the win and a new rushing record for Andy Sinclair.

  Though the temperature had dropped below thirty, no one seemed in a hurry to leave the stadium. Parents and students huddled together for warmth in clusters about the bleachers, rehashing each touchdown, play by play, waiting for the team to emerge from the locker room for another round of applause. Julia received enthusiastic congratulations for Andy’s game, and she basked vicariously in his glory.

  When the players went back to shower, and Julia and Jim finally made their way across the parking lot, it was al
most ten-thirty. Jim had picked Julia up, and since he lived only six blocks from the high school, they’d driven back to his house to park the car. Now they walked briskly arm in arm with stadium blankets around their shoulders, trying to generate some warmth.

  “Man, it is freezing!” Jim’s words came out in little puffs of steam.

  “I know, but we won! We won!” Julia did a little dance—a silly, girlish hopscotch that set them both laughing.

  Suddenly Jim’s expression changed, and he looked down at her with serious, unsmiling eyes. He took her by the shoulders and, turning her to face him, kissed her full on the lips. “I love you, Julia Sinclair.” His usually calm voice was fierce with passion. “Do you know that, Julia? I love you.”

  Her heart began to hammer in her chest. It was the first time he’d ever spoken those words to her. She struggled to force John’s long-ago declaration of love from her mind. Oh, Jim, I’m not sure I’m ready for this.

  He kissed her again, gently this time, and stood back, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  Not knowing how to respond, she just smiled, then impulsively planted another light kiss on his lips. But she couldn’t will a declaration of love to form on her lips. She liked Jim—a lot. Maybe she did love him. But if that were true, why did she feel so confused right now?

  Had she ever questioned her love for Martin this way? Even with John and all the obstacles of their friendship—when it came to a question of love, there had never been a doubt. Had there?

  Since the night John had told her goodbye, Julia had prayed—prayed fervently, daily—that God would send her someone. Someone to share conversations the way John had. Someone to make her feel as cherished and special as he had. Someone she admired as much as she admired John Brighton.

  Then Jim had come into her life. In many ways, he was all of those things. He was special, and Julia knew that she was the envy of many women because she “had” Jim. She couldn’t have asked for anyone more solicitous toward her sons. She couldn’t have asked for anyone with more integrity, or who was more respected in the community.