Learning to Trust

by Ruth Logan Herne

  If Tug had a nickel for everyone who casually mentioned a single friend, sister, daughter, neighbor, waitress...

  He slipped back into the house through the back door, glad for the help of neighbors but wishing folks would leave his lack of a love life alone. It simply wasn’t anyone else’s business.

  “That smells great.” Vangie was curled up in his father’s recliner as he passed by. She was already halfway through a book she’d started that morning, but the enticing smell of food drew her quick interest. “I forgot I was hungry.”

  “A good book will do that to you.” He moved into the kitchen as Christa came down the stairs. He indicated the box as he slid the pizza onto the counter. “Sustenance. How are the boys doing?”

  She folded her arms as if cold, but the room was warm. Then her brows drew down. “Your mom is reading to them, and I honestly don’t know how to answer that question. Will they ever be all right? Even if the rest of their lives are peaceful, how do kids get over something like this?”

  He didn’t pretend it wasn’t a concern. “I see a lot of sad stories in my job.”

  She held his gaze and blinked once. “Me, too.”

  “Mom and Dad have helped over a dozen kids regain a hold on life when things went downhill, so I’ve seen it work. And in this case, with Jeremy and Jonah, they’ve got you.” He splayed his hands. “That’s huge, Ms. Alero.”

  “Christa. Please.”

  “A real pretty name.” A perfect match to its lovely owner.

  The compliment eased the tension in her face. “Thank you.”

  “They’re young,” he continued. He kept his voice low so the boys wouldn’t overhear them. “Do you recall anything from before you were five or so?”

  Her brow knit, then smoothed. “Not really.”

  “So maybe that will be the case for them, too,” he continued. “I’m not saying that having your mother disappear and a rough first couple of years might not have an effect, but I think that can be minimized with faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love.”

  Her brow furrowed again. When it did, he was pretty sure she’d had too much practice being worried and a part of him wanted to reach out. Smooth that brow. Let her know she wasn’t in this alone. He shoved the random thought aside as she glanced toward the stairs. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “To hear the news about family and then have two little kids thrust on you,” he acknowledged. “It sure is.”

  She shook her head quickly. “No, not that. I’m strong. I’m not afraid of a challenge. And I love kids. That’s why I chose a career in teaching.

  “I mean for them,” she explained. “To take in a new place, new people, new toys. When people buy a puppy, the breeders often give them a blanket with the mother’s scent on it to comfort the pup as he adjusts. These boys have nothing. Do we even know where they were living?” she asked. “Would it be possible to see if they have any belongings we could salvage? Just to have something familiar in their lives?”

  “My guess is it wasn’t all that sudden,” he said softly. “But, yes, we’ll see if there’s anything we can find. Jubilee thinks Marta probably became homeless a couple of months back. When the choice is drugs or rent money, the rent money often takes a back seat. But they must have been somewhere. We’ll check it out.”

  “Thank you. Your mother’s reading them a story about a bear and all his friends.”

  “That is like one of my favoritest stories in the whole world!” Nathan slid into the room in sock-clad feet, and saved himself from colliding with the table by crashing into Tug. “And Grandma reads it the best. She can do all the animal voices,” Nathan went on as he zeroed in on the pizza. “Can we eat now? Because I’m like so really hungry, Dad. Like almost starving.” He widened his eyes and gave a fairly convincing little boy groan for effect.

  Tug’s father came in from outside as Nathan clutched his middle. “Sounds good to me. I’ll wash up quick and we can say grace. Mom upstairs?”

  Tug nodded. “Reading to the boys. Should we wait for her?”

  “Well, here’s the truth about having two cute little kids.” Glenn Moyer shot them an over-the-shoulder knowing look as he scrubbed up. “Eating in shifts becomes the norm. Sure, it’s great when you can all sit around a table, and that will come in time, but for now, meal shifts are a wonderful thing. That way the boys aren’t thrust into any more expectations than they need and we get hot food.”

  “Mom would love your reasoning.”

  “Love might be a strong word,” his father teased. “But she’d go along with it. Christa, I want you to know that you and the boys are welcome to be here as long as you need to be,” he said as he dried his hands. “I also understand that you probably cherish your privacy, so if you need help looking for a place of your own, just give us a heads-up. We don’t want to intrude, and we don’t want you to feel pushed out. We know there aren’t a lot of available rentals in small towns like this. Over in Quincy, yes.”

  Tug read her instant frown. “You want to stay more rural.”

  “Yes.” She folded her hands but it was more of a clench. “I was raised in a city. Nothing about it was good in my case, so coming here was my ticket to freedom. If you don’t mind us being here long enough for me to find something in town, I would be grateful. I don’t mind paying rent, either. I like paying my own way,” she added firmly.

  “You’re already doing that until you sublet your studio above the pharmacy, although I expect Mr. Johannson will let you out of your lease,” Tug told her. “He’s a good guy.”

  “You think so?” That thought smoothed some of her worry furrow. “That would be a huge relief on me and my budget.”

  “If you explain the circumstances, he’ll understand, and that place rents out the minute it becomes available, being right in town like that. And he keeps it up nicely.” He reached over and slid a chair out for her as Vangie came into the room.

  “I got to a great stopping place in the book, but then that means that the beginning of the next chapter is a great starting place, so can I eat fast and read for twenty more minutes since there are no dishes tonight? Please?”

  “May I eat fast, and why should tonight be any different?” Tug slid out a chair for her, too. “Chew your food, wait until we say grace, and then I want to hear all about this book when I tuck you in tonight.”

  “Deal!” She slipped into the chair, grabbed a paper towel for a disposable plate and breathed deeply. “This is like the best night ever.”

  Clearly, she didn’t have to deal with the reporters outside or the constant requests for interviews. The number had actually risen today, and he knew he couldn’t take the kids back to his house for the night, but he hadn’t wanted Christa to face this new situation alone. Not with so much on the line. The boys’ well-being, and hers. To unexpectedly become a parent to two grieving children wasn’t a walk in the park. He understood that better than most. Once the kids had eaten, he’d slip them out the back door and into Renzo’s car parked on the next block. Parking an unfamiliar car over there had offered him the chance to be here and offer his support, and to slip out quietly once dinner was over.

  He reached for Vangie’s hand to say grace. She took his hand and reached for Christa’s on the other side, and when Nathan grabbed hold of the pretty teacher’s left hand, he couldn’t help but notice they made a nice circle.

  He started to give thanks as one of the little guys began crying upstairs.

  Five pairs of eyes looked up, partly because it was new, but mostly because the tragic sobs weren’t just the usual sounds of a fussy little kid.

  This was sorrow and heartbreak mixed with grief and mourning.

  Christa stood quickly. “Sorry.” She released the kids’ hands and slipped out around Nathan. “I’ve got to go to him.”

  She went up the stairs quickly, but it was long minut
es before the sobs diminished.

  Vangie and Nathan exchanged looks. Were they thinking about losing their mom?

  Nathan barely remembered Hadley. The unfairness of that always hit Tug crosswise because the woman who gave him life should at least be a memory. Shouldn’t she?

  “It’s hard to lose your mom.” Evangeline picked up a piece of pizza, then set it down again. “It just makes everything different, doesn’t it? Like forever? And it never gets to be the same again.”

  Glenn brought over a pitcher of lemonade. “Things don’t stay the same regardless, do they?”

  Evangeline looked up at him, puzzled.

  “Even when folks stay here on earth, things change. People get sick. People move. They get new jobs or new houses or new families. Because for everything on this planet, every little thing and big thing, there is a season, Vangie. Good seasons and not-so-good seasons. But the seasons come and go just like they’ve always done, and we move on.”

  “To a new season,” she told him. Not in her usual excited voice, but in a more subdued tone. “Like now. Like fall.”

  “Yes.” Glenn settled into the seat next to her, the one Christa had vacated. “The things of fall are for the fall. Not the spring. Same with summer and winter, so our job is to work with the seasons. With the times. Do our best and trust God to take care of us.”

  “But God didn’t take care of the little boys’ mother.” Vangie whispered the words. She glanced at the stairs, where the sobs had diminished. “Or my mom. So maybe He can’t do all the stuff people ask Him to do. Because if He could, why wouldn’t He save all the moms? Especially when kids need them?”

  His dad could have sloughed off the answer onto Tug’s shoulders.

  He didn’t. He chewed a bite of pizza thoughtfully, then aimed a look at Vangie. “Things happen all the time, precious girl. Things I can’t explain. I can’t tell you why your mom got sick and why she didn’t get better. It’s as much a mystery to me now as it was then. And I can’t explain whatever happened to the boys’ mother...” He sat back in his chair, still thoughtful. “But I know this. That God gave Grandma and me two amazing grandchildren to help raise. A wonderful opportunity for us to help your dad, and for you to be a help to your grandma. So maybe having a family in place is what God wants in case things happen.”

  “Like to be smart and be nice to each other?” Nathan seemed to grasp the idea despite his young age. “So when people need help, we can give it to them.”

  “Just like that.”

  Nathan looked satisfied.

  Not Vangie. And when the little guy upstairs began crying again, she blinked twice. Not in surprise. But to hold back tears. She knew what the boy was feeling. She’d lived it. And the emotion on her tender face right now showed him she hadn’t forgotten it, and that realization made him think maybe not remembering wasn’t such a bad gig, after all.

  * * *

  Christa debated taking a day off from work. Maybe two. The school would grant her bereavement days, but what would she do with them? What could she get done while Marta’s death was under investigation?

  “You’re worried.” Darla Moyer slid a cup of coffee across the counter toward Christa the next morning. “And I don’t expect you slept a lot.”

  “True on both counts.” Christa picked up the coffee, then set it right back down. “I should stay home with them today, shouldn’t I? Nurture them. Help them to feel safe again.”

  “You sure can,” Darla agreed. She hooked her foot around a chair rung and slid it out from the table so she could take a seat. “But you might want to save that time off for a week or two. Totally up to you. I know the school won’t care, the days are in your contract, but right now everything’s in flux, so maybe staying on the quiet side of normal is a good thing. The boys can hang out here. We’ll play games and be silly and eat apple slices and peanut butter. Sometimes the simplest answers are the best.”

  “I see that in school all the time.” Christa breathed deeply. “You don’t mind? I can come straight back when school’s dismissed.”

  Darla held her mug of coffee with both hands. She studied the mug, then Christa. “Whatever these two have been through has been at least traumatic. And maybe even horrific. For now, I’d say we keep things nice and easy, and let them readjust to a normal life through regular situations. We can give time a chance to do what time does best. Heal their wounds.”

  It made sense. And it was the kind of common sense her mother used to offer, so why didn’t she listen back then?

  “And don’t feel guilty for making the sensible decision,” Darla added. “There is plenty of guilt to go around when you’re raising kids, so let’s start you off on the right side of that. Shrug it off and get on with life. I’m fine with whatever decision you make, Christa.” She raised her gaze toward the nearby stairway. “They’re not the only ones whose lives just got a thorough shake-up.”

  How kind of Tug’s mother to recognize that. It made her feel less guilty about being a little overwhelmed. “I’ll go in. You’re sure you didn’t have anything going on today? Because I’m pretty sure you did.”

  “I volunteer at the homeless shelter in Quincy. I make food for lunch and help prep for dinner two days a week, but my sister Grace is taking my shifts. She bartered with me.” A quick smile—the one she’d gifted genetically to her son—brightened her face. “If she can have unlimited time with the boys, she’ll help in the shelter as needed. Her kids are both single and professionally driven, so no grandkids as yet. Which means Jeremy and Jonah will be basking in the love of two funny grandma-types.”

  “Thank you so much.” Christa wasn’t a random hugger. There hadn’t been all that many people to hug in her life, but she hugged Darla right now. “I don’t know how or why this all happened, or how your family wandered into my life at the most opportune moment, but I’m so grateful for the understanding and the help. I bet you were a great foster mom.”

  “Well, thank you right back.” Darla returned the hug from her seat. “Now I’m going to enjoy this coffee and a quiet kitchen until the boys wake up. Then I’ll hit the ground running. Nothing better to keep us grandmas in shape than chasing around after little ones.”

  Christa tiptoed up the stairs. The boys were still asleep when she finished getting ready. They’d wanted to share a bed. Understandable, when life had torn so much apart. Jonah was on the inside of the bed, blocked from falling by the wall, and Jeremy was tucked in beside him, as if sleep didn’t stop Jeremy from protecting his little brother. Darla had installed some kind of guardrail to keep him from falling out.

  Smart. And handy. Christa didn’t even know such things existed. And how much more don’t you know? What makes you think you can raise two boys who’ve probably seen nothing but trouble all their days?

  She didn’t let the mental warning jar her.

  She could either allow worry to consume her, or use her rough past to help ease the boys into a new normal.

  She went downstairs barefoot and slipped her sandals on when she got into the kitchen. “I didn’t want to wake them,” she told Darla. “If things go badly, call me, okay?”

  “I will. And Jubilee is stopping by later to go over some things, so she’ll probably be here when you get home.”

  It wasn’t home.

  Christa knew that.

  But it felt like the kind of home she’d always dreamed of.

  For now, the boys were safe and beloved, and she had the blessing of a good job. A job she’d worked hard to get, a position she loved. That had been her mother’s dream, to see both girls successful, only Margaretta had never seen her daughter’s success. She’d lived through Christa’s failures, then passed away. If there was a way to see things from Heaven...

  Christa glanced up as she moved to her car. The clutch of reporters had left to go to the school, hoping to catch Tug there, no doubt.


  Could her mother see what was happening here? Would it make her happy or sad?

  She pulled into the school lot a few minutes later. Tug was talking to reporters again. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she heard laughter and could make out the smiles on the journalists’ faces.

  He made people laugh.

  He kept people safe.

  And he made them feel better about things.

  Friends on social media had been raving about the newest superhero movie to hit theaters and break all kinds of box-office records.

  The action-packed movies were fun and entertaining, but they were fiction. At the moment, she was pretty sure the real deal was the guy with the engaging smile out front.

  She walked into the school, thinking that reality was way better than fiction sometimes.

  Evangeline was coming down the hall. She spotted Christa and her face lit up. “Ms. Alero, you will never ever in a million years guess what happened!”

  “That being the case, you should simply tell me ASAP, thereby sparing me a million years of useless questioning.”

  Evangeline burst out laughing and grabbed her hand. “I think I might have gotten my dad a date. Maybe two dates!” Excitement hiked the girl’s tone. “And the TV station wants him to come and meet them on their show! Wouldn’t that be so much fun?”

  First of all, who was talking to this eight-year-old about dates for her dad?

  And second, airing your life on-air wouldn’t be the least bit fun, Christa thought, but it wasn’t her job to rain on the girl’s parade. “It could be, they have TV shows that do surprise dates, but I wouldn’t have thought your dad would be into that.”

  “My dad is the best,” affirmed the third grader, “but he doesn’t always know what’s best for him, you know?”

  Christa was not about to go down that rabbit hole with the man’s daughter. “He is the adult. Correct?”

  Evangeline nodded vigorously as they neared the classroom. “Exactly. That’s why he needs someone else to do things with. He does everything with me and Nathan. I heard Grandma say that kind of stifles other options. That means he doesn’t get a lot of choices,” she explained in a frank voice.