It Happens Every Spring

by Gary Chapman; Catherine Palmer

  Steve could feel every part of Brenda’s hand as though it were pulsing with electricity. Her slender fingers slipped between his own, much larger ones. The heel of her hand pressed against his palm. Her elbow brushed his arm. As she stepped closer to him, her shoulder leaned into his, and she let out a long breath.

  “There’s Charlie at the end of the dock,” she said in a low voice. “He’s already showing Cody his stringer of crappie. Every night I figure Charlie must have pulled the very last fish out of the water around the dock, but the next night, he’s caught at least one or two more keepers.”

  Steve tightened his hold on Brenda’s hand. Holding hands with her again felt so good. If only he could be certain the gesture wasn’t just an act. Part of her campaign to salve her conscience. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he searched for something to say as if the word repository in his mind had suddenly been deleted.

  “Esther told me that she and Charlie eat so much fish she’s surprised she hasn’t started to grow fins.” Brenda chuckled. “Lately she and I have become good friends.”

  Steve nodded and managed to say, “I’m glad.”

  “Oh, look! Charlie has one hooked, and he’s giving Cody the rod!”

  Brenda’s hand jerked suddenly out of Steve’s grip as she cupped her mouth. “You can do it, Cody!” she cried, jumping up and down on her tiptoes. “Reel him in slowly! Charlie, show him which way to crank it!”

  Beaming, she grabbed Steve’s hand again and squeezed it. At the sheer joy on her face—and the certainty that this time her grasp was genuine—he couldn’t hold back a grin.

  “Come on!” she said, drawing him forward. “Let’s go watch Cody pull in his first fish. Isn’t this fun?”

  As they picked up their pace, hurrying hand in hand toward the dock, Steve had to agree. This was kind of fun.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Steve pulled up to the gas pumps outside Rods-n-Ends two weeks after his return to Deepwater Cove. As he stepped out of his car, he saw Pete Roberts leave his place behind the counter and saunter toward the door. For once, the thought of shooting the breeze with the hefty store owner didn’t make Steve cringe.

  His trial week had turned into two. Things with Brenda were still far from perfect, but coming home early had made a difference. So that morning at his office, he had gathered the other real-estate agents and his staff in the conference room to make an announcement. He would be heading home no later than six each evening. The agency would be open on Saturdays, but Sundays would be reserved for church and family. The news had come as a surprise, and one employee objected to the changes, but Steve had refused to hear any arguments. His declaration stood.

  “Heard you took a trip to Arkansas,” Pete drawled as he ambled to the pumps. “Pretty down there this time of year. Thick forests and lots of streams. Do any fishing?”

  “Some,” Steve said. “I needed a little break, time to think things over. So I mostly just put up my feet and rested.”

  “I don’t blame you a bit. That agency of yours is going great guns day and night. I see your signs and billboards everywhere.”

  “We’re busy, but I decided to make a few adjustments. Get home a little earlier, take Sundays off, visit the kids now and then—that kind of thing.”

  “Sundays off? Now that does surprise me.” Pete spat a thin stream of chewing tobacco from the side of his mouth. “I thought that’s when most people came to the lake to look at properties.”

  Steve shrugged. “My agents have keys to the office. But you won’t see me there.”

  Pete smiled. “I like a fella who knows his own mind. If I could afford it, I’d do the same thing. You may not rake in as much money as you used to, but some things are more important.”

  “Brenda and I talked it over. I realized we could make do with less. When I sold auto parts, we barely got through the month. Now college is paid up for the kids, and we don’t have but two mouths at home to feed.”

  “What about that young fellow? You know the one that’s a little bit…” Pete pointed his index finger at his ear and drew a few circles. “You don’t like to say someone’s dumb or retarded these days, but what else could you call him?”

  “Cody? He’s slow, but I don’t think he’s had much of a chance to show what he can do. Brenda’s been working with him, teaching him a few things. Turns out he’s smarter than we all thought.”

  “No kidding? Well, don’t that beat all? You think you’ve got a fella pegged, and then he up and surprises the socks off you. Like you shutting down your agency on Sundays.” Pete leaned on the gas pump and gestured toward the strip mall. “Anything come of your idea about buying this place? The video-store guy has been getting boxes delivered every day. I think he’s about to open up. And the chiropractor is threatening to shut down. He gave notice that he’s looking for new digs. It’s a mess.”

  Steve finished pumping gas into his tank and settled the nozzle back in its holder. “I seriously considered purchasing the mall,” he told Pete. “I even had a financial backer. Someone from St. Louis came down to the lake to work out the details with me, and I thought I could make a go of it. We had a few meetings, but I finally called off the deal.”

  “Didn’t like the terms, huh?”

  “It wasn’t that so much as the time. If I go into commercial real estate, I’ll have to work even more hours than I do right now. I hate the idea of an adult-video store moving into Tranquility as much as the rest of us around here, but I just couldn’t see adding that to my load.”

  Pete nodded. “Well, if I had the wherewithal, I’d buy it, but there you go. Spent my best earning years drinking up my wages. Sacrificed two marriages and my good health, all for booze. My second wife, when she left me, she told me I was married to beer. That really got me, you know? Married to beer. But she was right…I loved getting drunk better than I loved her, better than I loved myself. Now here I am trying to make a living selling minnows, gas, and hot dogs.”

  Though Pete’s story was different from his own, Steve could relate. Brenda had accused him of being married to his work, and he couldn’t deny how much he loved selling real estate. It was almost an addiction—writing advertising copy, ordering billboards, convincing sellers, reeling in buyers, finalizing sales.

  As he thought about the vocation to which he had given his time, energy, and passion, his gaze wandered over to the beauty shop next door to Rods-n-Ends. Before his last haircut, a group of Patsy’s regular customers had dragged him into the tearoom to tell him their feelings about the video store. At the time, Steve had paid scant attention. But now he recalled what Kim Finley had said: “If a man wants a real woman to meet his needs, he has to do his part.” Steve had always considered “his part” to be earning money and providing for the family. But that wasn’t what the ladies were after.

  “Real women want to be loved and cherished, not treated like some kind of object,” Patsy Pringle had told him. Esther Moore had chimed in with her view on men: “My husband has learned that he had better listen—and listen good—if he wants me to feel any affection for him.” Even the usually quiet Kim Finley had an opinion on what a woman truly wanted. She described how Derek was supportive and did all he could to help make her life easier, despite his heavy workload with the Water Patrol. “Derek is always trying to figure out how to be a better husband,” she claimed.

  Pretty rigorous standards, Steve thought. But if other men had learned to please their wives, couldn’t he? With a lot of effort, Pete Roberts had managed to overcome the things that were destroying his health and ruining his relationships. Steve had begun to look at repairing his marriage as a similar kind of challenge. His first step had been to start coming home early and spending time with Brenda. While it had seemed impossible at first, he was actually learning to enjoy their evening walks. He figured all the steps ahead would also be difficult and require hard work, but he had never backed down from obstacles before.

  Recalling Pete’s regret at the way he
had wasted so many years of his life, Steve clapped the burly man on the shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Pete,” he said. “You’ve turned your life around, and that’s more than a lot of people can say. You don’t drink, you work hard, and I’ve seen you in church every Sunday. I think you’ve even won Patsy Pringle’s heart.”

  Laughing, Pete shook his head. “Not even close! That woman is more stubborn and hardheaded than I am, and that’s saying a lot. Aw, we’re on speaking terms since I built that soundproof wall between our businesses. But she won’t hardly give me the time of day.”

  “Don’t give up,” Steve urged Pete as he climbed back into his car. “One of these days, if you and I listen to our women and spend enough time with them, we’ll know exactly what they’re looking for in a man.”

  “Good advice,” Pete said, waving as Steve pulled out of the parking lot. “I’ll try to remember it.”

  “Mercy sakes, look what just walked in the door!” Patsy Pringle exclaimed from her station inside Just As I Am. “If that isn’t the handsomest young man in the world, I’ll eat my hat.”

  Cody paused, confusion written on his face. “You don’t have on a hat, Patsy.”

  “It’s just an expression,” Brenda told him. “She thinks you look wonderful.”

  “That’s because I take a shower every day,” he announced, loud enough for everyone in the salon to hear him. “I don’t have any more mice in my hair, and I wear clean clothes, and I can almost tie my shoelaces.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Patsy said. “A shower every day? Why, that’s just about the best news I’ve heard this century. And learning to tie your shoes too? Are you sure your name is Cody Goss?”

  He chuckled. “You know who I am, Patsy Pringle.”

  “And I couldn’t be happier about it.” She smiled at the sight of Brenda Hansen, who was starting to look a little more like her old self. “What are you two doing here today? Did I goof up my schedule book again?”

  “It’s Wednesday,” Brenda reminded her. “We have a meeting of the TLC.”

  “The Tea Ladies’ Club,” Cody said. “It’s for ladies, but Brenda said I could come today. I want to see if you have any chocolate cake, because my daddy said—”

  “Are the others here yet?” Brenda asked, cutting off Cody’s recital of the holy benefits of that particular dessert. “Esther dropped by on her golf cart this morning to remind me.”

  “Any time now,” Patsy sang out. “In fact, Kim may be back there already. I forgot about the meeting, but I’ll see if one of the other stylists will take my three o’clock manicure and pedicure. We’re always filling in for each other.”

  Brenda ushered Cody back to the tearoom, where Kim sat browsing through a magazine. They greeted her and settled their belongings before heading over to the pastry case and the urn. Brenda selected a peanut-butter cookie and some Earl Grey tea while Cody agonized between a slice of pecan pie and a helping of apple cobbler.

  “I guess it won’t be long before school’s out for the summer,” Brenda remarked to Kim as she returned to the table. “I remember my kids could hardly wait for vacation to start. They would get so antsy and excited, but by mid-August, they were always ready to go back to class and see their friends.”

  Dark-haired Kim closed the magazine and stirred her tea. “Are yours coming home from college soon?”

  Brenda glanced away for a moment, swallowing down the ache. It wasn’t quite as sharp now, but it still hung on. “Jennifer doesn’t complete her mission in Africa until the end of August. The other day, she sent us a message that she had finally made the decision to commit to full-time service.”

  “You mean she’ll be a missionary? And live in a foreign country for the rest of her life?”

  “That’s what she says.” Brenda reflected for a moment on her lovely, golden-haired older daughter. So dedicated and selfless. What would Jennifer think if she knew what her mother had done? Even the fact that Brenda had stopped going to church until just recently would shock Jennifer. The idea that her parents might still separate—even divorce—would dangerously tilt her view of life. Of the three children, it was Jennifer whose face Brenda most often saw when she thought about the incident with Nick LeClair. Struggling to hold her emotions at bay, she took a sip of tea.

  “Jennifer believes God has called her to teach at a boarding school for missionary kids,” Brenda informed Kim. “She’s already getting her paperwork ready to enter a seminary in Texas. When she graduated with a teaching degree, I pictured her in a classroom full of kindergarteners here in Missouri. But evidently that’s not what the Lord had in mind.”

  “I guess I never thought about young single women becoming missionaries,” Kim said. “You must be very proud of her.”

  “We are, but we miss her a lot. And as it turns out, both Justin and Jessica will be spending the summer in Springfield. Jessica wants to take classes toward an early graduation.”

  “Jessica? I can still see her running down to the lake with her friends. Skinny young girls in bathing suits, giggling and acting so silly. It’s hard to imagine that she’s old enough to be thinking about college graduation already.”

  Brenda nodded.

  “And Justin?”

  “Believe it or not, he got a job at a car dealership in Springfield. He’s still so goofy that I can’t imagine why anyone would hire him, but I guess he convinced them. At first, he’ll just be moving cars around on the lot and that sort of thing. But he’s hoping to get into sales by the end of summer.”

  “Takes after his father,” Kim said. “Everyone’s predicting Steve will win Realtor of the Year, and his agency is sure to be honored at the chamber of commerce banquet this Christmas. How is Steve, by the way? I heard he went to Arkansas on a business trip.”

  Brenda had been fielding this question often enough to have the answer down pat. “He took a little retreat to do some thinking about his work and how it’s impacting his life. He’s decided to cut back on his hours and close the agency on Sundays.”

  “Wow, that’s a radical change.” Kim’s dark eyes softened. “How are you, Brenda? When the TLC visited your house the day we cut Cody’s hair, your condition really concerned me.”

  “I’m better, I think. At least…I’m not spending most of the day in my rocking chair. All of you really helped by getting me up and forcing me to stay busy. I’ve had a hard time lately. The kids left home, and things just became awkward, confusing…overwhelming.”

  “I understand, at least a little. During my divorce, I got very depressed. It took a lot of work to recover. Now we’re facing something that might knock the wind out of me again. I could use your prayers.”

  “What’s going on, Kim?” Brenda reached across the table and closed her fingers over Kim’s hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “It’s Luke,” she said. “We took him up to St. Louis. The doctors ran all kinds of tests. It seems like things aren’t working right…his pancreas and his endocrine levels. Things I never even heard of before. Brenda, they think Luke has diabetes.”

  “Oh, Kim, I’m so sorry.”

  Kim began to speak again, but Esther Moore and Ashley Hanes arrived together at the table. Cody had finally made his selection, so he took a chair and settled in.

  “Well, you ladies look as sad as a fallen cake,” Patsy said, setting down her teacup and joining the group.

  “Chocolate cake?” Cody asked. “Because my daddy says that—”

  All the women chimed in at once to drown out Cody’s chant.

  Ashley’s voice carried over the rest. “It’s Luke,” she told Patsy. “The doctors in St. Louis say he’s got diabetes.”

  “Well, mercy sakes alive,” Patsy said, reaching around Kim’s shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “No wonder you hardly looked up when you came into the salon, sweetie. What can we do for you?”

  “Derek and I aren’t sure what to do,” Kim said. “We both work long hours—”

  “You work at the
dentist’s office,” Cody interrupted. “I saw you there. I went to the dentist and got my teeth cleaned by a lady. Look.” He rolled his lips back and displayed his newly scrubbed and polished teeth for everyone to admire.

  “That’s nice, Cody,” Patsy said, “but I think it’s high time we addressed the Lord about this. If nobody minds, I’ll do the out-loud praying, and the rest of you can follow along with me or talk to God in silence. We’ll cover Luke and his diabetes, Brenda’s recent spell of discouragement, and my attitude toward my neighbors in the mall—particularly that new place going in down the way.”

  “And me,” Ashley said in an uncharacteristically timid voice. “Me and Brad.”

  Everyone turned to her, but she lowered her eyes. Patsy bowed her head and began to pray. As she lifted up Luke and all the Finleys, Brenda felt movement from Cody’s chair beside her. She didn’t want to look up, but the idea that Cody might run off again troubled her. Still, she really did need to focus on this shared conversation with God. Patsy had a way of speaking to the Lord that made Brenda feel as though He were sitting right there with the Tea Ladies’ Club.

  And come to think of it, He was. “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” The Bible verse Brenda had learned so long ago was true, she realized. She had never doubted it, no matter how far she had wandered from the straight and narrow path. At first, she wanted nothing more than to hide under the table at the very idea that Christ’s Spirit was there in the salon, looking at her, knowing all about her, aware of everything she had thought and done this past spring. And then…as once again she silently poured out all her shame and begged His forgiveness, she knew a wash of relief.

  As sick, lonely, depressed, angry, and hopeless as she had felt—and still did at times—Brenda knew God was with her, forgiving her, holding her up, and surrounding her with wonderful people like these women in Patsy’s salon. Brenda realized that, in fact, she no longer needed to keep reminding the Lord of her errors and asking His pardon. Once was all it took, and God erased everything. She only wished it was that easy with Steve.