by Amanda Tru
Jeff’s lips tightened. “I tried to keep my wife from church. I didn’t understand why she kept going. I remain thankful that she disregarded me in that manner and went anyway.”
Gloria leaned forward, and Blondie came straight for her. She ran her hands down the dog’s soft neck fur. “It’s interesting to me how God moved both of us through tragedy. Mine through Noah’s birth, yours through your loss.” Resting her forehead against Blondie’s, she stared into the dog’s eyes before kissing her on the forehead and straightening. “Dad said if I saw you to invite you over for dinner. He’s throwing some steaks on the grill.”
He stood. “Sounds good. What time?”
“Six is good.”
“See you then.”
Blondie’s head shot up, and she looked toward the tree line. She whined almost silently, then got to her feet. Seconds later, a little ball of golden fur burst into the yard, dragging a leash behind him. About five seconds later, Noah appeared just as Gloria’s phone rang. She surged to her feet when she saw her dad calling. “I have him,” she said without preamble. “What happened?”
“He was outside working with the puppy on the leash. I went in to get us both a drink, and when I went out, he was gone.” She heard the panic in his voice. “Thank God you have him.”
“We’ll be home in a minute.” She hung up the phone and closed her eyes, praying for patience, then opened them and smiled a tight-lipped smile at Jeff. “Excuse me.” She rushed down the steps. “Noah! Did you tell Grandpa where you were going?”
Noah reached the spot where the puppy danced around Blondie, and Blondie tried to keep the puppy from latching on to one of her receding nipples. He glared up at Gloria. “I had to chase the puppy. He got out through the gap in the gate.”
When she reached him, she snatched the puppy up. He wiggled in her arms and licked at her face. “That is not an answer to my question.”
He crossed his arms and set his face in a scowl. “I. Had. To. Chase. The. Puppy.”
Jeff approached, so she shoved the puppy at him. He reflexively took it with a surprised look on his face. Putting both hands on Noah’s shoulders, she bent down to eye-level with him. “Noah, did you tell Grandpa where you were going?”
He broke eye contact and looked over her shoulder, then shook his head. Gloria squeezed with her hands. “Use words,” she demanded.
“No,” he finally whispered.
“Right.” Gloria closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down despite the adrenaline surging through her bloodstream. She couldn’t let herself think of all the dozens of times Noah had just taken off and effectively vanished. She couldn’t let herself imagine how much danger he put himself into every single time. She opened her eyes. “What was the last thing I said before I left you with Grandpa? Say it back to me. Say it word for word. What did I tell you?”
Noah never had any trouble recalling conversations. “You said I had to stay where Grandpa could see me.”
“Can Grandpa Arnold see you right now?”
Noah shrugged. “I don’t know.”
She stood and turned to Jeff, taking the squirming puppy from his arms. “Jeff, I really enjoyed talking to you. I’ll see you at six.” She glared at Noah and pointed to her ATV. “Get on that seat. Now. And stay there while I get Lief settled.”
Noah fisted his hands and stomped to the vehicle, but never said a contrary word. The steps he’d taken toward impulse control and appropriate words at appropriate times made her want to celebrate instead of punish. But, unfortunately, she had to punish this time.
As Noah climbed aboard, Jeff placed a gentle hand on the back of Gloria’s elbow, effectively halting her forward motion. She felt his gentle touch from her fingertips to hear earlobe. Suddenly, her heart raced and adrenaline surged for an entirely different reason. “Hey. Gloria, can I talk with you for a quick second?”
He took his hand away and devoted it once again to restraining the energetic puppy. Gloria strolled alongside Jeff a short distance away. “What’s up?”
“Not really my place, but I have some unsolicited advice if you want to hear it.”
She took the wiggly puppy from him. Leif panted and squirmed and tried very hard to join Noah on the ATV. She grinned a sly grin and said, “I always listen to advice. I just don’t always follow it.”
Jeff flashed a smile. He had very straight, very white teeth. “Fair enough. The thing is, it might work better if you tell Noah to stay where he—where Noah—can see his Grandpa, and not the other way around.”
His words resonated with her and after only a brief pause, she said, “Because Noah has no way of relating to what anyone else can see. He can only relate to the world from his own personal point of view.”
Jeff, looking a bit relieved that Gloria had understood both his words, and the spirit of his intent in offering them, nodded. “Exactly. Tell him to keep his eyes on you and he won’t get lost. He will know if he can’t see you. He has no idea whether or not you can see him and probably doesn’t really care if you can or not.”
Gloria turned slightly. Leif pawed at her shoulder, trying to get down and get back to Noah. She observed her son sitting on the ATV waiting patiently. He really wanted to be good and obedient. He probably didn’t understand her emotional reaction to his constant wandering. Maybe she wouldn’t punish this time. Maybe this was an opportunity to try it Jeff’s way first. In her mind, she imagined how she would phrase it to Noah in various scenarios.
Suddenly, she remembered that she stood in front of Jeff. She spun back to look at him and asked, “This advice didn’t come out of thin air.”
Jeff shook his head slightly. “I’ve been doing a lot of research since I met Noah. He’s a great kid and you’re an amazing mother.”
Gloria felt blood rushing into her cheeks. “Thank you, Jeff. I appreciate that. And I appreciate the advice. I’m actually going to give that a shot.”
Jeff slid his hands into his pants pockets and nodded. “I’ll see you tonight, Doctor Sutton.”
“I’ll see you tonight, Doctor Brock.”
August Twentieth
Jeff felt the slight sprinkle of rain in the air but didn’t care. He stared at the stone gravestones and the words “Beloved Wife” and “Adored Daughter.” After several minutes had gone by, he finally spoke. “I met someone.” He cleared his throat and looked at the overcast sky. “I tried to deny it at first, but the more I denied it, the more apparent it became.”
He twisted the gold band off of his left ring finger and set it on the gravestone in front of him. “I loved you completely and intended to spend the rest of my life with you, but God had other plans. I can’t keep clinging to the past. I want to keep living.”
He turned to Katrina’s stone and smiled as a tear streaked down his cheek. “You’d like Blondie, darlin’. She’s fun and gives me someone to take care of.” He kissed his hand and touched the stone. “Happy seventh birthday, beautiful. I miss you with all of my heart.”
As he walked away from their gravesites, he felt the familiar pang of grief, but also of an unusual feeling of weight shed. He ran his thumb over his now empty ring finger and wondered about the amount of weight he’d carried while continuing to wear the marking of a married man.
In his car, he put the restaurant address into his GPS and started driving. Every time his left hand entered his line of sight, he felt a mental pause. Had he done the right thing? Should he go back for it?
No. He had needed to do this.
A few minutes later, he walked up to his parents’ table at the restaurant. His mom waved at him as his dad ended a telephone call, then stood and shook his hand. “I’m sorry if you were waiting for me,” he said as he kissed his mother’s cheek before sitting down.
“Not at all. We knew where you were.”
The waitress served waters to his parents and asked him for his drink order. When she left, his dad asked, “How’s life as a country doctor?”
With a laugh, he said, “
It’s not internal medicine at the University of Louisville, but I get by.” He glanced around at the surroundings. Wood tables, eclectic art, large windows overlooking the vineyard outside. He didn’t think it could get much different from Betsy’s Diner if he’d tried. “I did have an interesting case that kept presenting as a UTI in a teenage boy. Ended up being Vesicourethral reflux.”
“Interesting. How did you diagnose?”
“Ultrasound of the bladder.”
The waitress returned, and they gave their orders. His vegetarian mother loved this restaurant because of the variety of options for her, and because her men could get their red meat fix at the same time.
“How’s the house?”
“Everything came together really nicely. Thanks for your help. And the house here sold last week. I closed Thursday.”
“I enjoyed the challenge.” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you keep the dog?”
With a smile, he said, “Yes, mother. You’ve asked me that every time I’ve seen you.”
“It’s just a weird thing for you to have a dog.”
Thinking of all the times he begged his parents for a dog, he barked a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
She pressed her lips together, but he could see the mirth in her eyes. “I did want to tell you that I’ve taken a step today.”
His father met his eyes. “I noticed the bare hand right away. Is that it?”
“Yes, sir.” Folding his arms on the table, he leaned forward. “It was time. And I met someone.”
His mom gasped and put a hand on his arm. “You did? Where?”
“Actually, you’ve met her.”
Her frown brought her eyebrows together. “The dark-haired woman in the truck? With the son?”
“Gloria and Noah Sutton. We’re neighbors.”
“Hmmm.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, then tapped her forefinger on her arm. “And what does she do?”
“Well, mother, she’s a doctor.” He watched her immediately relax and kind of perk up, then said, “Of veterinary medicine.”
She made a strangled sound, and he laughed. “She has a little boy on the autism spectrum who is charming beyond charming.”
His dad nodded. “Getting more and more common, these days. About one kid in sixty and boys are four times more likely to be diagnosed.”
Jeff held up a hand to stem the tide of statistics. “I’m aware, Dad. The point is, I am infatuated and plan to ask her out soon.”
His father reached over and slapped him on the shoulder. “Looking forward to hearing more,” he said.
“Indeed,” his mom replied.
Noah laughed and held his arms tightly against his chest, turning his body as the dancing puppy tried to jump on him. “No, Leif. Down!”
Gloria carried the basin of freshly picked and snapped green beans up the back steps. “Lift your knee. It will block him from getting you. Say, ‘Down!’ like you mean it. Strong voice.”
He complied, and after two tries, Leif Erikson—named after the Viking who founded Newfoundland and Labrador—stayed down. Gloria reminded Noah to praise Leif, then stepped into the hot kitchen. She had two pressure cookers on the stove loudly shaking and hissing as they pressurized the first two batches of green beans. She dumped her bin into the sink and ran water over them, spraying them down. The timer went off, and she turned the stove burners off. She could still hear the jars rattling inside them.
While the pressure dissipated from the cookers, flooding the kitchen with even more steam, she pulled clean jars out of the dishwasher and started loading them up with the freshly washed beans. Once she’d filled six jars, she added salt to each one and poured boiling water over them. After sealing them with lids and rings, she set them next to the stove while she worked on the next batch.
By the time she had twelve jars filled, the pressure had fully released. She removed the lids from the canners and used grips to pull the jars out, setting them on the towel she’d arranged on the counter next to the stove. Even before she had them all out, she heard the popping sound of the lids sealing.
She adjusted the water levels, then placed the twelve new jars into the pressure canners, sealed the lids, and turned on the burners. That was the last of the beans. The next thing on her list was to check the corn.
As she finished filling a paper bag with the green bean stems and twigs, she heard a loud rapping sound on the back door. “Come in,” she said and looked up as Jeff Brock stepped into the kitchen.
Every time she saw him since he’d asked her out three months ago, she felt nervous and fluttery. Today proved no exception. Out of habit, she glanced down at his left hand, and for the first time, noticed a distinct absence of gold. Her heart started pounding furiously. “Jeff, hi.” She licked her lips and looked down at her outfit. In deference to the 100-degree heat outside and the nearly 85-degree heat in the kitchen, she had on denim shorts and a T-shirt she’d tied at the waist. She’d kicked off her shoes, preferring to work barefoot in her garden and kitchen. Nervously, she touched her hair. She’d pulled it back in a ponytail, but she imagined the humidity from the steamy kitchen had caused all sorts of little hairs to pop out everywhere. Sweat poured down her back and dampened her hairline.
Jeff, on the other hand, looked incredible in his navy slacks and pink pinstriped white button-down shirt. He had on a blue tie covered in little pink flamingos. She glanced at the clock. Five-thirty already?
“Hi, Gloria. How was the first week of school for Noah?”
“First week is usually hard, but this year his teacher had him for reading last year, so she already knows him and knows me. I think third grade is going to work out.” He always, always asked about Noah first. It made her happy to think that he might genuinely care about her son.
“That’s wonderful. I know that it’s hard for him to go.”
She glanced at the gages on the stove and lowered the flame under each pot. “How are you? We missed you at church on Sunday.”
“Yeah. I had to go to Louisville. It was my daughter’s birthday.”
As soon as he said that, she stopped all busy work and turned the burners off. She opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of iced tea, then grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and pointed toward the door with her chin. “Let’s go outside. It’s just about as hot out there, but we can feel the breeze.”
He led the way, and soon they sat in plastic chairs in the shade of the pear tree. She watched the condensation drip down the sides of the glass pitcher. “Are you okay, Jeff?”
He took a long swallow of tea and cleared his throat. “It was just a hard day. I had lunch with my parents after. Nice to talk to people who knew them and loved them.” He leaned his head back and looked up at the branches of the tree. Gloria looked with him and felt a calming sense as she watched the blue sky through the dancing leaves. “Better now, though. The first year I begged God to just take me, too.”
She held out her hand, and he took it. His skin felt warm, dry. She imagined hers felt sweaty and rough after her day’s work in the garden and kitchen. “What happened?”
“It was late January. They were coming back from a friend’s house in rural Clark County when that bad storm hit. Remember that one about three years ago?”
She remembered that storm. The state of Kentucky had even shut down the interstate. “Yes.”
“Liz, my wife, had taken Katrina’s coat off her. The car got so warm, and it was a long drive. Katrina was three. Not sure exactly what happened, but apparently they spun out, went off the road. They slid down a steep incline. They hit a tree. My wife…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Liz died quickly.”
He stopped, and she squeezed his hand. For several moments, they sat in silence. Then he said, “It took two days to find them. Katrina had died of exposure.”
“Oh, Jeff.” She sat up and turned her body so that she could hold both of his hands in hers.
“She had a head injury, presumably during impact. I
’ve always hoped that she never regained consciousness, never had to see her mom like that. There were no signs of struggle against her car seat restraints, for whatever that’s worth.” He pulled his hands free and took a drink of tea. “I hate snow. I don’t even know why I continue to live here.”
After a moment of silence, Gloria said, “Because they’re here.”
He nodded. “Yeah.” Clearing his throat, he touched a finger to the knot in his tie, as if making sure it was still straight. “I was hoping you were free tomorrow night. I know your dad is just back to work and might not be available to watch Noah, but…” Gloria waited. She would not fill in the sentence for him. Finally, he said, “But I would love to give you a reason to dress up. There’s a play at the Performing Arts Center. I think they’re doing a Sherlock Holmes story. And we could get dinner.”
With a smile that she couldn’t contain, she said, “I would love to go to dinner and a play with you. What time?”
“Is five too early? The play starts at seven, but I don’t want the restaurant to close before we could get to it after.”
“No. Not at all. Five is great.”
He drained his glass. It clinked against the glass table when he set it down. “I’ll see you at five then.” Leif came barreling from around the corner of the house with Noah close on his heels. The dog ran straight for Jeff, who laughed and held out both hands to keep the muddy paws off of his clothes. “Well, it looks like you’ve been helping in the garden.”
“I told him not to go there, but he didn’t listen.” Noah gave his mom an exasperated look. “Should we put a fence around it?”
The fence around the yard kept the deer out of the garden, but Leif kept insisting he needed to dig in the rich soil. Thankfully, he’d so far only dug in areas free of plants. She smiled and held out her hand. Noah took her pinkie finger with one hand and her ring finger with the other and squeezed. “I think we’ll worry about it when we plant next spring. If he’s still insistent, we’ll work it out.”