Lake of the Ozarks was becoming a major holiday destination for the Midwest. Fishermen raced about in their glittery bass boats or set out trotlines. Jet Skis and all manner of other craft cut through the waves, towing wakeboards, inner tubes, and just about anything else that would float. As spring warmed into summer, the whole place came to life. Shops bustled, restaurants had lines of people waiting outside their doors, and the real-estate market heated up with the temperature.
“Mom’s doing good things to the house,” Steve told his daughter. “I’ve looked at hundreds of homes, and I can assure you I wouldn’t want to move anywhere else. Deepwater Cove was the perfect place to raise you kids. Your mom and I have been happy together here. We’ve got a good church and lots of nice neighbors and plenty of friends. Mom is just doing what it takes to adjust to the changes in her life, that’s all. She’ll be fine the next time you see her.”
Jessica’s green eyes were solemn as she faced him. “Are you sure, Dad? Are you guys okay? Because I’ve hardly been home, and it’s like you two are always snapping at each other.”
Steve’s heart sank as he gazed into the perfect face of his beloved daughter. How could he tell her that there were problems between himself and her mother?
“We’re a little tense,” he said finally. “Your mom was disappointed not to have you and Justin here for the holiday. And she’s been kind of testy with me lately.”
“Testy? How come?”
“I really don’t know. I can’t think of anything I’m doing to upset her. I’m bringing in good money, paying for you kids to go to college, setting up retirement accounts—the whole nine yards. She did a fantastic job raising her children, and now she’s got a work space geared to give her plenty to do with her time. But…well, she’s struggling.”
“Why? Is it because you’re always gone?”
“I’m not always gone, honey. Did your mother tell you that?”
“Actually, I haven’t seen much of you since I came home. You got in late last night, and then we had church this morning, and this is the first time we’ve really talked.” She paused and studied the rumpled water for a moment. “You know, Dad, maybe Mom misses you.”
Steve shook his head in frustration. “She does complain about that. But there’s no other way to do my job, and I’m not giving that up just so I can sit at home and watch TV with your mother.”
“I think she’s lonely.”
“Well, I’ve told her to go talk to Pastor Andrew at church. He’ll have some good local resources to help her through this—counselors, doctors, whatever she needs.”
“Maybe she needs you, Dad.”
“Jessica, honey, I haven’t gone anywhere. I’m right beside your mother in our bed every night, and I’m right there in the house when we get up in the morning. If you want to know the truth, I think it might have something to do with the change of life.”
“Dad, she’s forty-five.”
“It can happen that early. I read up on it online the other day. A lot of the symptoms sound like your mother. Mood swings, irritability, depression—that kind of thing. I’m thinking a doctor could give her some sort of a pill.”
Jessica slid her feet out of her sandals and dipped her toes in the water. They fell silent, listening to the cries of the gulls and watching the ravens soar overhead.
Finally Jessica spoke again. “Dad, I think I might want to marry Josh,” she said in a hushed voice. “I love him. And he says he loves me. I realize we haven’t been dating long, but some things you just know. All my life, I said I wanted to have a marriage like you and mom had. But what I’m seeing now scares me. I don’t ever want to end up angry and hurt and depressed.”
“Marriage has its ups and downs, Jessica. You know that. Things can’t be rosy all the time. The feeling of being in love lasts awhile, but then it fades. What you’re left with is the commitment you’ve made to each other. Sometimes, when troubles crop up, that’s about all you’ve got. You remember that you made a vow before God, and you stick with it. Eventually, things sort themselves out, and the marriage gets better again. Once in a while, you even get back to that rosy feeling. You realize how much you love the person you married, and you can’t imagine why God chose to bless you so richly.”
“And at other times, you want to throw her in the lake?”
Steve chuckled. “No, you just bear it. You plow through the days, one after the other, until everything resolves itself.”
“So things always do work out?” Her voice sounded so fragile, as if she needed reassurance from her daddy that life would somehow be beautiful, no matter what.
“Things don’t always work out,” he told her honestly. “You know there are plenty of divorces in this world. Christians and non-Christians alike have trouble keeping their relationships going. There’s no magic wand, Jessica. But if you remember your vow, if you keep your focus on Christ, and if you just stand firm through the storms, you’ll make it.”
“I think there’s more to it than that,” Jessica said, standing suddenly and dusting off the back of her jeans. “Mom used to tell me that marriage took work. But you’re saying it just takes endurance. Well, I’m with Mom. I love you, Dad, but you had better start doing your part to put this relationship back together. If you don’t, then Jennifer, Justin, and I will be like all the other kids who leave home and their parents suddenly get divorced.”
“Divorced? Now, Jessica—”
“That’s right, Dad,” she cut in, her voice suddenly harsh. “If you guys don’t fix this, then one of these days, you’ll go one way and Mom will go another, and it will be just like what happened to my roommate, Chrissie. She asked her parents why they got divorced, and they told her they stopped loving each other. They said maybe they never should have gotten married in the first place.” By now, tears were trickling down Jessica’s cheeks. “And you know what Chrissie said? She said she feels like if her parents made a mistake in getting married, then that makes her a mistake. I don’t want to be a mistake, Dad! I want you and Mom to stop yelling at each other and do what it takes to love each other again.”
“Jessica, honey, you’re overreacting.” He reached for his daughter as she darted past him and jogged down the dock toward shore. He called after her. “Mom and I are fine. We really are fine!”
“Then take her to the country club for dinner once in a while!” she yelled back over her shoulder.
Steve watched as his daughter threw open the front door of the house and ran inside. He stood and hurried down the dock. But before he could get back to his own yard, Jessica emerged again, threw a bag into her car, and climbed in.
Brenda appeared on the porch, her face ashen. “Jessica, wait!” she called. “Honey, come back! What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
Steve stared after his daughter as her car backed out onto the road and spun off toward the highway. Looking toward the house, he met Brenda’s icy glare. Her eyes narrowed for a moment; then she turned on her heel and stormed back inside.
CHAPTER NINE
After church, Patsy Pringle usually joined a group of families who were headed to a local restaurant. She had always been welcomed as part of the LAMB Chapel mix, and she didn’t mind being a solo act. With the large number of people, she just blended in, sitting by a child or with one of her clients from Just As I Am.
But Easter was different. Most people went home or to Grandma’s house for roast chicken or baked ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans cooked with bacon, and gelatin salads loaded with fruit cocktail. Patsy remembered the days when her own family had gathered around the dinner table on a Sunday after church for a big homemade meal. Being the youngest, she had enjoyed the chatter and storytelling, the aroma of good Southern-style food, and the feel of Mama’s starched white napkin on her lap.
But then Daddy had died, the kids moved away, and Patsy was left to tend a woman who didn’t remember ever having children. When Alzheimer’s disease finally took Mama, Patsy was long past the stage of p
ining for a big family meal. She was doing her best just to pay the utility bills and keep groceries on the table.
Though she was in a lot better shape financially now, Patsy had no desire to cook a large Sunday dinner just for herself. So she joined the group from church. And on Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, she had learned to enjoy eating by herself at a restaurant. She usually took a book and read while she ate.
She didn’t think about it much anymore, which was why the arrival of Pete Roberts at Aunt Mamie’s Good Food in Camdenton that Sunday just about shocked the pants off her. He had been at church, of course. Even the folks who claimed to be Christians but didn’t show a shred of evidence to prove it went to church on Christmas and Easter.
Pete had been attending ever since he moved to the lake area, and Patsy had surreptitiously noted where he sat. After church, she usually said hello to him and moved on to join her dinner companions. But today he showed up at Aunt Mamie’s not five minutes behind her.
Having just been seated in a booth inside the nearly empty restaurant, Patsy was reaching for her menu when she saw the front door open and Pete Roberts step inside. He looked around, spotted her, smiled, and made straight for her booth.
“Looks like we’re in the same boat,” he said, taking off his cap to reveal a head of thick brown hair. “Mind if I join you, Patsy?”
Well, she did mind. She was right at the most exciting point in her novel, and she had planned on eating a quiet, leisurely meal while she read.
“Have a seat,” she told Pete, putting on her polite voice. She almost asked him if he’d brought a chain saw along to destroy the atmosphere at Aunt Mamie’s Good Food, but she managed to keep her mouth shut.
“What did you think of the church service?” he asked, sliding into the booth. “I think Pastor Andrew gives a good sermon. We never went to church when I was a boy, and I only went a couple of times with my first wife. But when I moved to the lake, everyone was talking about LAMB Chapel and how friendly it was, so I decided to visit—seeing as how I’m working on changing my life and all. Sure enough, I liked it a lot. I’m even thinking about giving the Sunday morning Bible study a try.”
Patsy hadn’t heard Pete say so much all at one time before, and for a moment, she just stared at him. Once again, it startled her a little bit to discover what a nice-looking face appeared to be hidden under that big beard and mop of shaggy hair. He had kind eyes and a friendly smile, and for some reason, she couldn’t quite summon up all the anger and frustration she wanted to pour out on him.
“You never went to church as a boy?” she asked. “Where did you grow up?”
“Halfway. It’s down south near Bolivar. I always said that was a fitting place for me to come from. Halfway. I’m halfway smart, halfway decent-looking, halfway polite, and halfway civilized. The other half ain’t so good.”
Patsy laughed. “I guess it all depends on which part is winning out.”
“For most of my life, the bad half won. But like I told you, I quit drinking a few years ago, and that set me to working on myself. I think the better half might be coming close to taking over.”
“And which half is it that keeps starting up his chain saws and weed whackers next door to my salon, making an infernal racket?”
“Does it bother you that much?”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” she asked, leaning across the table. “Are you halfway deaf, too?”
At that, Pete threw back his head and gave a hearty guffaw. “All right, all right. I’ll have you know I’ve been working on a solution. Since I’m only halfway smart, it’s taken me a while. But I’m about there.”
“I sure hope so.” Patsy studied the menu a moment as their waitress brought ice water and napkin-wrapped silverware.
“I’ll have the roast-beef dinner, please,” she told the young woman. “And no dessert. Just a cup of hot tea at the end.”
“Sounds good,” Pete said. “I’ll have the same. Only I want a slice of that pecan pie in your display case.”
When the waitress left their table, Patsy realized she was now going to have to be alone with Pete Roberts for a good hour. She had already blurted out her annoyance about the noise he made next door, and she couldn’t think of another subject she cared to talk to him about.
How long had it been since she’d gone out on a date or even been seated across from a man at a restaurant? The only thing in her life was Just As I Am, and how interesting could that be to a bait-and-tackle-shop owner? Still, she did talk to men while cutting their hair, and she ought to be able to think of something to say.
“Do you like marigolds?” Pete asked before she could come up with a question of her own.
“Marigolds? Well…no, to be honest; I think they stink.”
“I agree. Good. We won’t have any marigolds, then. How do you feel about petunias?”
“What are you talking about, Pete?”
“I thought I’d build some flower boxes for the window fronts of all the stores on the strip. But I want to be the one who chooses the plants and keeps the weeds out, the dirt damp, and the flowers deadheaded. I was thinking about using reds and yellows with a little bit of orange thrown in. What would you say to that?”
“Did you talk to the landlord about putting up flower boxes?”
“Yep, I called on him for that purpose. But then, of course, I worked in a few questions and thoughts about the adult-video store. Between you and me, Patsy, I think we’ve got enough signatures on our petitions now to make him think twice. Trouble is, he’s determined to rent the space, and he’s got a fish on his hook. So if we don’t come up with another person to fill that slot, we’ll probably get stuck with a pornography shop.”
“I can’t think of anyone who’s looking for space in Tranquility. It’s just not a hot spot for the tourist trade like Osage Beach. Even Camdenton has a lot to offer.”
“I figure if I dress up the front with my flower boxes, that ought to attract attention. The parking area gets a lot of sun, so I’m considering geraniums, petunias, gerbera daisies, and blanketflowers. How does that sound?”
Patsy struggled to hide her surprise that this shaggy sheepdog of a man with grease under his fingernails was interested in flower gardening. She smiled as best she could. “That sounds really nice, Pete.”
“I’ll probably put in some small mums,” he continued. “That way when fall comes, the boxes will still look pretty. And then we can set out pansies for the winter. There’s nothing like a bed of yellow pansies to draw the eye.”
“Pansies in winter? I didn’t know any flower could survive a Missouri freeze.”
“Oh, sure. People always make a mistake and plant their pansies in the spring. When the first heat of summer hits, those poor pansies just wither right up and die. Pansies love the cold. You need to put them in your flower beds in early fall. Unless there’s a hard freeze that lasts for several weeks, they’ll just zip right on through winter and into early spring, smiling up just as sweet as you please.”
As the waitress brought their lunches, Patsy leaned back against the booth and tried to figure out Pete Roberts. Before she could ask him more about Halfway or flower boxes or his idea for solving the chain-saw problem, he announced that he would pray. Patsy tried to keep her face straight as he blurted out a few awkward sentences thanking God for Easter, asking that children find plenty of colored eggs in their yards, and blessing the meal to the nourishment of their bodies. Finally he added, “And thank You, dear God, for Patsy Pringle…my friend. Amen.”
“I like that hair color you’ve got on today, by the way,” he said as they began eating. “Brown. It looks real good on you.”
“It’s ash-blonde,” she told him.
“Well, whatever it is, I think it suits you. Must be close to your natural shade.”
“I hardly recall. I like trying different things. One time I even got another of the stylists to do extensions on me. You should have seen me walking around with black hair halfway
down my back. Finally someone told me that if I would paint my fingernails black and put on some dark eyeliner, I’d look like one of those Goths. I could have just about died. I had been fancying myself as a Mexican senorita or an Italian countess. A Satan worshiper! You never saw anyone get their hair changed as fast as I did. Before the day was over, I had a halo of blonde curls.”
Pete smiled. “I never think much about my looks, but I guess that’s a big deal for women.”
“I see it as a ministry. Fixing people up helps them feel better about themselves, and then they can go out and do a good job at whatever the Lord has given them to do. I guess you’ve noticed the pamphlets by my cash register and the music I play. My goal is to bring glory to the Lord all day long.”
He scratched at his beard for a moment. “I don’t guess I’ve ever thought about it one way or the other. I’m just trying to make a living.” “That’s important, of course, but God wants a lot more from believers. We’re supposed to reach out to people, share with them, help them, make a difference in their lives. That’s the kind of thing that builds treasure in heaven.”
“Do you really believe what Pastor Andrew said this morning—that those Roman soldiers killed Jesus, and then He woke up from being dead?”
Patsy looked up in surprise. “Of course I do. It’s written right there in the Bible, plain as day.”
“But who says the Bible is right?”
“If you’d go to Bible study on Sunday mornings, you’d get the answers you’re looking for. There are people who have proved the historical facts. And the rest of it you have to take on faith.”
It Happens Every Spring Page 13