Beyond the Picket Fence

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Beyond the Picket Fence Page 14

by Lori Wick


  Brad took himself off, but not before he smelled his father's aftershave and whistled appreciatively. Adam sat down on the edge of the bed when he'd gone.

  What have I done, Lord? I don't even know this woman. I mean, I've seen Chad at church, so I assume she's a believer, but I'm not sure. What is it about her that I can'toeet out of my

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  mind? Adam continued to pray, committing himself and the evening to the Lord, and then realized the time was getting away. He picked up his keys, unsure of what the evening would bring but determined not to be late.

  "If a band of gypsies came along right now and wanted to buy you, Chad Farrell, I'd sell. I can't believe you got me into this. What ifhe's an ax murderer?"

  "He's my coach, Mom," Chad told her reasonably from his place on her bed. "I don't think he's ever mur dered anyone."

  Hilary didn't hear him; she was back in her closet changing her blouse for the fifth time. Not that she had that many blouses from which to choose--she'd put on the blue one three times and the red one twice.

  It was hot, so she opted for lightweight white summer pants and sandals. The only question that remained was which top to wear with the pants. She'd decided on the blue, and was in the bathroom working on her hair when the doorbell rang. When she was done, she moved from her bedroom to the dining room and set her purse on the table. She knew she should wait for Adam in the living room, but she couldn't make herself go that far.

  Lisa found her just after Chad joined her from the bedroom, telling her softly that her date had arrived. "He's here, Mom." She sounded apologetic.

  "I didn't hear the doorbell!" Hilary announced as though it was the most important oversight of the evening.

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  "He's wearing a suit," Lisa said softly and watched her mother freeze.

  "Oh, no! Please, Chad," Hilary whispered furiously. "Please tell him I can't go. Please--"

  Hilary stopped when Adam appeared in the doorway. He could tell something was wrong by the look on Lisa's face, and though he knew it was presumptuous of him to leave the living room, he'd come to tell Hilary that if she'd rather not go, it was fine with him. One look at her sweet, vulnerable face, however, and he changed his mind.

  Hilary watched his eyes skim over her before he stepped into the room. He took her hand in his and moved back toward the door.

  "We'll see you guys later," he called over her shoulder, and Hilary had no choice but to follow. Lisa spotted her mother's purse as they were headed out the door and ran to press it into her hand. Lisa and Chad watched from the front door for just a moment and then closed it, thinking the two adults didn't need an audience

  Adam held the van door open for his date, but Hilary hesitated. "I'm sorry about the way I'rr dressed. If you'd rather we cancel tonight, I'll under. stand. I know you must be busy."

  "You're right, I am busy. Tonight I have a date with Hilary Farrell. If you'll get in, we'll pop back over to my place, I'll change into something more casual and then we'll go to this great Italian restaurant across town. The food is wonderful, but the atmosphere is casual. Do you like Italian."

  Hilary could only nod as she climbed into the van The ride to Adam's house was quiet, but when theI

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  pulled up before a lovely two-story, Hilary began to babble.

  "I'll just wait here for you. I don't mind, and I'm sure I'll be in the way if I come in."

  Adam waited until she was through. "My son is here. Why don't you come inside and meet him.''

  "Oh! All right." Hilary wondered how many more times she would make a fool of herself this evening.

  "Brad, this is Hilary Farrell," Adam said a few minutes later. "Hilary, this is my son, Brad. Have a seat, and I'll be back in a few minutes."

  Hilary sat in the first chair she came to and tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart. The house was lovely, she observed, and as she let her gaze roam the room, her eyes rested on the portrait of a beautiful woman over the mantel. She glanced at Adam's son and found him watching her.

  "My mother," Brad told her simply, and for some reason, Hilary relaxed.

  "How long has she been gone?"

  "Over ten years. I understand you're widowed yourself."

  Hilary nodded. "Four years now, but sometimes it feels like a lifetime." Hilary let herself lean back in the chair, crossing her legs gracefully. Her eyes were once again taking in the room, a room that gave evidence to the fact that there had been no lack of funds for this family.

  "It's hard when the breadwinner dies, especially if the wife isn't trained in any particular field." She smiled suddenly at the nice-looking young man across from her. "But we make it work; God always provides."

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  "I quite agree with you there," Brad replied and found himself the recipient of one of Hilary's beautiful smiles. He watched her tense again when his father returned. He thought of the phrase "abandoned kitten" and decided that she gave new meaning to the words. He found himself praying as they left that she would relax with his dad and find out what a great guy he was.

  "Dessert."

  "I couldn't," Hilary told him in all honesty. It had been years since she'd had such a big meal. The bread sticks had come nonstop, and before the entree, a salad had been delivered that was large enough to feed an entire family. Lasagna was the main course, and even though it was Hilary's favorite, she'd struggled to get through her portion.

  "How about some coffee."

  "Please," Hilary told him with a smile and waited quietly as he ordered.

  "What do you do for a living.'' she asked when the waitress had left their table. During the meal they'd talked about their children and various other topics, but by unspoken agreement had never let the conver sation range to subjects more personal.

  "I'm a mathematics professor at the university." Hilary was silent for a few seconds. "Math was my worst subject," she finally admitted, certain now that they had nothing in common.

  "Some of my students could say the same thing." Adam replied dryly.

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  Hilary laughed and then answered when Adam returned the question. He noticed that she moved her hands from the tabletop to her lap before she replied. "I clean houses."

  "Oh," Adam looked genuinely interested. "How often?"

  "I don't work the weekends, but I have seven houses that I clean every week."

  "Seven?" he exclaimed softly'. "You actually clean more than one a day?"

  "On Tuesdays and Thursdays I do. They're smaller than my other houses; in fact, one is an apartment."

  Adam nodded, and both were relieved when the coffee arrived. The rest of the meal was strained, and neither one knew exactly why.

  Hilary rescued them both by admitting that she had to be up early in the morning and should get home. Adam was more than happy to comply, and the drive to her house was made in almost complete silence.

  The strain did not lift, not even when he walked her to the door and said goodbye. Hilary found herself hoping that she could make herself scarce when he came a few weeks later to take Chad camping.

  Adam lay in his sleeping bag and listened to the sound of the boys as they slept. After the way they'd hiked in on foot, made camp, and helped with supper, it wasn't any wonder that they were dead to the world. Talk around the campfire had been brief, but not brief enough.

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  The conversation on summer vacation plans had started out innocently but had taken an unexpected turn when one of the fathers suggested that everyone tell his family vacation plans. Chad had been the seventh to share, saying honestly that his family didn't go on vacation.

  Adam had waited then for some of the other boys to admit the same thing, but whether they all really did have plans or had simply made them up, it didn't matter. Out of 15 boys, Chad Farrell was the only team member whose family had nothing special planned for that summer. Adam had questioned him

  when they had a moment alone.

  "No vacation, huh, Chad?"
>
  "No," he said softly. "Mom can't get the days together."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well," he explained, his voice matter-of-fact. "She tries to work it out so she has days off in the same week, but they always need her. But," Chad's face brightened as he added, "she does have two weekdays right together in June--Thursday and Friday--so

  we'll have a four-day weekend."

  "Where will you go?"

  "Go?" Chad looked momentarily confused. "Oh," his face suddenly cleared. "We can't afford to go anywhere, but we might see a movie on that Friday."

  "What about your grandparents, Chad? Do you ever visit them?"

  "No. Mom's parents are dead, and Grandpa and Grandma Farrell haven't been around much since Dad died."

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  Adam had reached and touched Chad's head in a tender gesture. The boy had grinned at him in sincere affection before heading off to find the other boys. Adam had stared after him in amazement. He'd never known such an unspoiled child.

  Now, some hours later, Adam lay thinking of all he'd seen and heard about the Farrell family. Even as he was drifting off to sleep, his mind was forming a plan.

  Hilary looked across her living room at Adam Maxwell and tried not to think about how good he looked in white tennis shorts and a dark green shirt. He'd been in her thoughts way too often since their date, and she knew that was going to have to stop. Hilary pulled her mind back to the present.

  "Brad and I go every summer, and this time we want you to join us.

  "I'm sure Chad would love it, but I'd have to talk with Lisa."

  "Talk with me about what.'' Lisa questioned as she came into the room, a half-eaten apple in her hand. Watching her, Adam knew a great rush of satisfaction. He'd prayed that the kids would be around when he arrived, because he knew he'd never persuade Hilary otherwise.

  "Mr. Maxwell wants--"

  "Adam," he corrected, and Hilary started again.

  "Adam wants you and Chad to go on a camping trip with him--"

  "No, Hilary," Adam broke in once more. "I want all three of you to go camping with Brad and me."

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  Hilary stared at him in total disbelief.

  "We don't have a tent," she finally mumbled.

  "I have everything you'll need--tents, sleeping bags, provisions--everything."

  "Everything for what?" Chad asked as he joined the group, and Hilary nearly groaned. Instead, she listened in silence as Adam explained, then watched with something akin to horror as the excitement on her children's faces grew. She had dreamed of taking the kids on a trip, but camping? It had never crossed her mind.

  She was a little amazed to hear herself agreeing and sat in stunned silence as Chad nearly danced around the room. Her eyes swung to Lisa to find her daughter's eyes sparkling with glee before she briefly met Adam's look. His tender smile made her face warm. It was several moments before she remembered her manners and finally offered coffee to her guest.

  "You're sure you don't mind their joining us?" Adam asked Brad for the third time. Brad only grinned at his father and continued to load the van.

  Adam wished he shared Brad's optimism. He'd thought long and hard about this trip and really felt he'd done the right thing, but doubts surfaced the moment he'd left the Farrells.

  Maybe this trip would act as a purge. Hilary had constantly been in his thoughts for weeks now, and he told himself that if he could only get to know her, and she him, then maybe he could get her out of his system.

  With this rather gloomy thought in mind, they were underway. It took just minutes for the van to pull

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  up in front of the Farrell house, and 20 minutes later, both families were headed for the mountains.

  Hilary sat by the campfire and watched Lisa, flashlight in hand, walk toward the women's bathhouse. Brad had gone with Chad to the men's room, and Hilary wondered if she should have accompanied her daughter.

  "She'll be fine." Adam read her look. "I picked this campground because it has such a family atmosphere and it's beautiful."

  Hilary let her head fall back and take in the blanket of stars above. It was beautiful. No wonder Chad had been so excited.

  "This is where you came with the boys, isn't it.'' Hilary looked at him and watched him smile.

  "Not exactly. We came to this area, but I don't think you would have cared for that trip. We hiked for several hours before we made camp, and since we were so far in, there were no bathing facilities of any kind."

  Hilary's eyes had grown quite round, and Adam laughed. Anything either one of them might have said was cut short by the boys' arrival. Lisa was close on their heels, and within minutes they were roasting marshmallows and telling stories. A few hours later Adam suggested bed.

  "We've got a long day of hiking and swimming tomorrow, so we're going to need our rest."

  "Just think," Chad spoke as he made his way to the men's tent. "This is only Wednesday night, and we've still got four days to go."

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  Smiling at Brad and Adam across the fire, Hilary stood, retrieved her towel, toothbrush, and soap, and made her way to the women's shower room.

  "You never said anything to me about cutting up dead fish, Adam Maxwell!"

  Adam hid a smile at Hilary's look of horror and shrugged. "Didn't your husband fish.''

  "Yes, he did," she told him, still frowning fiercely. "But he always cleaned the fish himself. Did)?ur wife clean the fish you caught?"

  "No," Adam said with a grin, "but on the off chance that you'd just love to, I had to ask."

  Hilary laughed and tried to put the fishnet over his head. Adam snatched it away from her, and they smiled at each other. Adam's look grew very tender as he took in her sunburned nose, and Hilary blushed. She transferred her gaze to the water below them and spoke wistfully.

  "It's hard to believe we go home tomorrow, but I praise God for the time we've had. I don't know if I've thanked you properly, Adam, but you've given us a wonderful vacation."

  Adam found he couldn't speak as he watched her adorable profile. He thought of how poorly his purge had worked. She was going to be someone whose faith was fake, but it hadn't been so. She was going to be someone who was grouchy at breakfast and a poor sport about the heat or mosquitoes. But she'd been none of those things. In less than 72 hours, this sweet, caring woman was more fully embedded in his thoughts than Adam believed possible.

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  "Hilary," Adam said suddenly, then waited for her face to turn to him. "If I asked you on a date once we were home, would you go.''

  "Yes," she answered him softly and without hesitation. "Do you think you'll ask.''

  His head moved affirmatively as he held her eyes with his own. He extended his hand in a careful gesture, his fingers reaching for hers. Hilary's hand went out and was captured within his own. No words were spoken; no words were needed.

  Brad had told him that she need not be the woman of his dreams. Adam smiled to himself, looking forward to telling him just how wrong he'd been.

  A Note from Lori:Although I'm not specific in this story, I pictured the campground at Emerald Bay, as I wrote.

  The campground is on Lake Tahoe, one of my favorite places. I've camped there several times when I was a child and even as

  a teenager. The memories of my father, who was very good at driving and setting up our travel trailer, along with my mother, brother, cousins, aunt, and even a friend who joined us one time, are sweet beyond description.

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  "Why do you seek the living One among the dead? He is not here, but He has risen. "

  Luke 24:5,6

  Snowdrifted the kitchen window in a

  past

  timely fashion, putting a clean dusting of powder on the previously fallen inches. There was no wind this December morning, and the large flakes dropped so straight to the ground that it looked as if someone had plumbed a line between the sky and earth. Maggie Hartman came into the kitchen that moment and took a second
to watch her foster daughter, who stood motionless at the window. Brenda stood with her nose pressed to the glass, anxiously watching the figure at work on the brick walkway, a snow shovel in his hands. Brenda's mouse brown hair hung in a perfect line down to her slim shoulders. Maggie didn't need to see Brenda's tiny ears in order to picture the large hearing aids that rested in each. She also knew that if the little

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  ten-year-old girl turned around, she would regard her out of eyes covered with bottle-thick lenses.

  "I don't think we're going to go," the little girl finally said, having known Maggie was there all along.

  "You'll go," Maggie said soothingly and moved farther into the room. "It's not supposed to snow that long, and Gary left the truck for you and Mark."

  Maggie smiled to herself when she heard Brenda sigh. She could well remember the disappointments over the years when outings were canceled because of the weather, but it was different for Brenda. Brenda's entire life had been a disappointment, making something as simple as a canceled shopping trip more than a little upsetting.

  Maggie had just poured herself a cup of coffee when her 23-year-old son, Mark, came in the back door.

  "Well, the walk is clear, but I'm not sure how long it will last."

  "Thank you, Mark. At least if the women come soon enough they can get in for Bible study."

  "Are you ready to go, Brenda?" Mark wanted to know.

  "We're still going to shop?" She regarded her large foster brother with anxious eyes.

  "Of course. The roads don't look bad at all. Get your things, and we'll get out of here."

  Brenda took time to smile hugely at Maggie before running for the back hall that held her coat, hat, and mittens.

  It was now Maggie's turn to stand at the window as she watched the dark blue truck move down the street.

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  Brenda had originally come home with Gary in that very truck. In Gary's line of work as a social worker it would have been easy to bring a different child home each night. Maggie knew if she'd been in his place, the house would be full of these abused and abandoned children. But early on they had set up a policy, and Gary had never brought anyone home. Until Brenda.

  When she arrived at the house in May, she weighed 42 pounds. Maggie had never seen such an emaciated child. Brenda's first nine and a half years of life had been spent with an often drunk, abusive father--one who hadn't bothered to feed her very often. Prior to coming to live with them, Brenda had never been to school, but it wouldn't have mattered. Her eyes had been so severely damaged by the abuse that she couldn't have read a book if she'd tried. And that wasn't all. She could barely hear Gary and Maggie before the aids were purchased.

 

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