Renata and the Fall from Grace

by Becky Doughty

  He was glad Reuben had called to warn him. He couldn't imagine how he would have reacted if he'd come home without being prepared.

  Then his eyes found hers. Hopeful, challenging, pleading, daring, it was all there for him to see. How she wanted him to approve, and how she expected him to disapprove. Did she really doubt him so much? It was only hair, for Pete's sake. He may have preferences on how she wore it, but even if she shaved her head bald, he would love her just the same.

  He let out a low whistle. "Wow. You look amazing." He reached out a hand and she put hers into it. He spun her around, making a show of looking her up and down again, this time for her benefit as much as his own, then turned to the four sets of eyes watching them from the living room floor. "Isn't your mom the most beautiful woman in the whole world, guys?" Then he swept her close and kissed her soft cherry-colored lips thoroughly, much to the dismay and disgust of their sons.

  "Do you think you can find a babysitter on such short notice? I'd like to take you out tonight." He whispered against her skin as he planted kisses along the newly-exposed column of her neck. She sighed softly, and settled into his embrace, obviously relieved at his reaction.

  ~ ~ ~

  Gia agreed to come spend the evening with the boys. "I have some new music I want Reuben to hear. Taz sent Ricky a couple CDs and I think Reuben might get into some of this stuff." She hesitated on the other end of the line. "It's not all Christian stuff; is that okay? Do you mind?"

  "Is it music about sex? Doing drugs?" Renata asked, sounding censorious even to her own ears. This was Gia she was talking to.

  "Oh, gosh, no! This is from Taz and some of his friends. You remember him, right? Juliette's date?"

  "Yes, of course I know who Taz is, Georgia. I trust you, so if you think it's fine for Reuben to listen to, then I'm fine with it." The reminder of Juliette's conversion during her date with the Christian musician, Trevor Zander, still rankled her a little. It wasn't because Juliette had become a Christian; no, Renata was truly thrilled about that. But last year, she, Phoebe, and Georgia had set Juliette up on a series of blind dates with some of the most eligible bachelors they knew. The shy Juliette had inadvertently sabotaged their well-laid plans by first falling in love with Jesus, thanks to the introduction from Trevor, then by falling in love with a police officer who, in Renata's opinion, was a little overzealous about his job, at least where Juliette was concerned. He had not been a contender on the list of Monday ManDates, and Renata still felt a little cheated that the intervention plan had been axed before John's friend, Tim Larsen, had his chance. She thought he was a much better fit for Juliette than the enigmatic Victor Jarrett.

  One could still hope. Juliette wasn't wearing a ring yet.

  "Cool! What time should I be there? And what's the occasion?"

  "As soon as you get here, we'll head out. The occasion? I cut my hair."

  "What?" She could tell Gia had expected something far different.

  "I donated it to LoveLocks today. So don't scream or freak out when you get here, okay? The boys are finally beginning to speak to me, and I don't want to get them all stirred up again."

  "Ooh! I'm so excited to see it! I'm heading out the door right now!" She paused, then asked in a low voice, as though afraid he could hear her, "Does John like it?"

  "He does."

  "Whew! I wondered if you were including him when you said 'the boys.' That could have been awkward." The way she said the word reminded Renata that her little sister was just barely out of high school and she smiled.

  "Yes. Going out tonight was John's idea. He wants to show me off." She felt her cheeks flush as she met her husband's eye across the bedroom.

  "That's fantabulous! I'll be there in a few minutes."

  And she was. She did squeal when she saw Renata's new haircut, but she kept it muffled behind her hand. "I love it, Rennie! I love it. You look like a pixie! Oh my gosh, Jules and Phebes are gonna freak when they see it! I mean, in a good way!" She wrapped Renata in an exuberant hug, then turned to hug John, too. "Your wife is a hottie, mister!"

  "That she is," he agreed, tugging on one of Gia's corkscrew copper curls that made her look like she was related to him rather than Renata.

  John surprised Renata by taking her to a movie. At first she was a little disappointed, but when she heard him request the tickets from the vendor, she impulsively stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. He grinned, and explained to the teenager behind the glass panel, "Chick flicks are worth every penny when you're with the right woman, my young friend."

  After the movie, they headed to a little restaurant that boasted scrumptious pastries and secluded booths. They sat on the same side, pressed together, sharing each other's calorie-free-on-date-night desserts, and talking about the movie, about the boys, about Renata's day out. When she asked him how his day had gone, he grimaced a little.

  "All-in-all, it's good, but I'm working with a general contractor who's pretty full of himself. I could handle that if he knew what he was talking about, but when it comes to electricity, he's liable to get someone killed if I don't stay on top of things every minute. Makes it hard to keep my head when I'm around him. They don't pay me to babysit, but I can't afford not to."

  "Oh, John. I'm sorry. That makes for a long day, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah, but it makes coming home to you even better." He lifted her hand from the table and brought it to his lips. "I'm glad I have you to come home to, Renata Charise Dixon."

  "And I'm glad you come home to me, John Allen Dixon." It had been a long time since they'd exchanged those words; sweet nothings they used to say to each other all the time. Renata smiled, feeling content in a way she hadn't in a long time, either.

  "Let's go home, shall we? I'm sure the boys are in bed. We can continue this date in our bedroom." John murmured in her ear, his chocolatey breath warm and promising against her cheek.

  "I need to change my hairstyle more often," she teased, running her fingers up his thigh under the table.

  "Let's get out of here."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next morning, they sat across the breakfast nook from each other, still enjoying the afterglow of a night spent investing in each other. But John's brow was furrowed. "What's wrong, husband of mine?"

  He took a long sip of his coffee. "Renata, I didn't want to spoil things last night. I would love to get away with you for a couple days, go somewhere, get away for your birthday, but right now, with this big project I'm on, I don't know if I can do it any time soon. I mean, it won't happen in the next two months, minimum. When this one is over, and it's slated to be finished by mid-February, then I have the Farmhouse Development. That's going to take me weeks. I want to do something when the air is cleared, but I'm worried that you're going to be disappointed you have to wait. I really wish you'd consider doing something with your sisters next month."

  And back to that again. Suddenly the euphoria of last night evaporated. "Well, we do have a G-FOURce tonight—you'll be home on time to watch the boys, right? I'll think about it and maybe bring it up at our meeting."

  "Going to do a little showing off of your own, are you? They'll love your new look, Renata." He stood up and circled the table to pull her out of her seat, drawing her up against him. She thought he blushed when he continued, "It was like being with a new woman last night. Still you, but different. Kinda sexy."

  "John!" she reprimanded, blushing herself. But she understood what he meant.

  She thought briefly about filling him in on Angela Clinton, but decided against it, letting him think the G-FOURce was about a haircut and a few new wardrobe items. Once she and her sisters talked, she'd know better what to tell him anyway.

  By the time the day was over, she wasn't looking forward to talking to her sisters about anything, especially not Angela. She couldn't get her hair to look the way it did when Cynthia was done with it, the new boots she'd bought pinched her little toe painfully after wearing them for an
hour, and Sally had chewed up one of her favorite bedroom slippers.

  "You haven't chewed anything in a long time, you bad girl. What were you thinking?" She couldn't help wondering if this was the dog's passive aggressive response to her new haircut. Although Harry had barked once sharply this morning when she emerged from the bedroom, the moment she spoke, he'd hurried to her side and thumped his tail against her leg. Sally, on the other hand, had eyed her balefully, her uncertainty surprising Renata this morning since she'd seemed unaware or unaffected the day before when Renata first came home.

  The boys seemed louder and more obnoxious than usual, but maybe it was because she was in a bad mood. She tried to ignore them, but when Reuben threw his shoe at Simon, who ducked, and hit Judah in the head with it by mistake, she sent them all to their rooms to play until dinner.

  John arrived home late and scowling, and she could see that his day hadn't gone any better than hers. She didn't offer comfort, though, as she was feeling fragile herself. The last sparkling remnants of their romantic night out blinked once or twice, and faded away.

  "There's chicken casserole in the oven. The boys haven't eaten yet. I banished them so I could have a little peace and quiet." The words sounded ugly, like she was mocking him, but she hadn't meant them that way. John looked up at her, exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes, his wary gaze studying her.

  "What about you?" he asked. "Did you eat already?"

  "No. I'm not really hungry. Besides, knowing Juliette, she'll have something totally inappropriate and delicious set out on the table and I'll indulge and feel guilty if I eat before going over there. I thought she'd lay off the pastries once she met a man, but that hasn't happened." Her new coat was draped over the back of the sofa and she scooped it up and slipped her arms into it, fastening the belt snugly around her waist without bothering to button it first. "The funny thing is that even with the holidays, she looks better than ever. Maybe that officer is good for her after all."

  "Victor? Yeah, he's a good guy." John was leaning against the kitchen counter watching her, his hands wrapped around a hot cup of coffee. She almost asked him about his day, but stopped herself before she did, not certain she could handle two weighty conversations in one night. Besides, he hadn't bothered asking her about hers.

  "So homework is done, the three younger boys are bathed. Reuben will argue with you, I'm sure, but he needs to take a quick shower. He's at that age. And remind him about deodorant, okay?"

  John nodded absentmindedly, still holding her gaze, but she could see that the wheel was turning but the hamster was miles away.

  "Good. I'll try not to be too late. Don't let the boys wait up for me, but I should be home by nine at the latest."

  ~ ~ ~

  Why didn't she just cross the room and slide her arms around him, instead of into that coat? He needed her to come to him tonight; he barely had the energy to hold himself upright after the day he'd had. Acknowledge me, he wanted to demand. Remind me why I do what I do, day in and day out. Tell me I'm your hero.

  But she didn't. And he didn't ask out loud. He just watched her drawing invisible lines, pulling away as she pulled inside. The eyes that had flashed so brightly for him last night were shadowed and dark again. He couldn't read anything there tonight.

  Scott McCain was driving him crazy. He couldn't turn his back on the man for a second, it seemed. Every time he did, wires were rerouted, shoved aside, even removed altogether. Why did the guy even bring him into the project if he didn't need an electrician? But John knew the answer to that. McCain did need an electrician. He just had a hard time admitting that to anyone, himself especially. So John had to go around behind him, double-checking all his adjustments to the project plans, making sure his own work still met code even if McCain's left a little to be desired. But the guy wore him out, and after the late night he and Renata had shared, as amazing as it had been, he was short on patience and kindness, or any other fruit of the Spirit today.

  So to come home to a distant and reserved Renata, especially after she'd been like a live wire in his arms just twenty-four hours before, left him numb down to the bone.

  "I'm glad I have you to come home to, Renata Charise Dixon." He spoke the words without emotion today, wishing they carried the potency they had last night.

  "And I'm glad you come home to me, John Allen Dixon." Renata crossed the room and patted him on the cheek. "Thanks for covering for me tonight with the boys. We can talk when I get home." Then she stood up on tiptoe and planted a quick kiss on his mouth.

  He wanted to reach for her. He wanted to hold her, to find comfort in her womanliness. He wanted to tell her to stay home, to stay with him. But he didn't. He smiled at her, told her she looked beautiful, and walked her out to her car. Standing in the open door of her SUV, he leaned down to kiss her goodbye. "Hurry home to me, woman."

  She offered a placating smile. "I'll be back before you have time to miss me."

  "I miss you already," he said to himself, as she backed out of the driveway and drove away.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Oh. My. Gosh!" Juliette's stilted exclamation made her hesitate just for a moment. She'd arrived way early, but she wanted to get there before Phoebe did since Gia had already seen her new look. This way she could face each sister individually and have the support of both Gia and Juliette in case Phoebe reacted cruelly.

  "Can I come in or are you going to make me stand on your front steps while you stare at me all night?"

  "Oh my gosh, Rennie! You look amazing!" Juliette reached out and touched the spikes on the top of Renata's head. "Wowee-wow-wow! Look at you!" She grabbed her by the shoulders and squeezed her quickly then released her. "Come in!"

  "Stop talking in exclamation points, Juliette."

  "I can't help it!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Has John seen you yet?"

  "Of course he has." Renata peeled off her coat; Juliette's condo was warm and smelled like pumpkin spice.

  "He must have drooled all over you!" Juliette handed her a hanger from the tiny coat closet.

  "Ew. No."

  "But he didn't freak out, right?"

  "Of course not. He's the one who suggested I do it." Okay, so that wasn't exactly the truth, but why did her sisters automatically assume John would have an aversion to her short hair?

  "I just can't stop staring at you, Ren. You look younger, and more…I don't know…fun, maybe? Not so mature." Juliette laughed and rolled her eyes. "Okay. That's not coming out right. You know what I mean, though, right?"

  "Sure. I look childish and immature. Got it." But Renata was smiling, too. She knew what Juliette meant and it felt good to have someone else see the same things she did. She followed the oldest Gustafson sister into the kitchen. "What are you cooking? It smells wonderful!"

  "Now look who's talking in exclamation points." Juliette poked her in the shoulder. "So I whipped up a batch of pumpkin scones with cinnamon cream cheese frosting to die for. I was just getting ready to test one to make sure it was worthy of being served to my favorite sisters. Do you want to be a guinea pig with me?"

  Juliette's kitchen was painted in a crisp white, with white-washed cabinets, and white tiled counter. But the sliding glass door that led out to the back yard and the bay window over the kitchen sink were topped with crisp apple green cornices. On the walls were black-framed prints from J. J. Jung's Camellia collection, all in shades of pinks, whites and purples. Juliette had recently discovered a sampler of them in a second-hand bookstore and pulled out her favorites, framing them, and grouping them together on one citrine-colored wall. The room looked bright, clean, and fresh without looking too girlie, and although Renata preferred her ambers and reds, she did love coming into Juliette's kitchen. It was like a breath of spring air.

  "Yes, of course. We wouldn't want to accidentally poison Phoebe or Georgia, would we?" She scooped up one of the still warm scones, then cocked her head before biting off a corn
er. "Well, maybe Phoebe…."

  "Do I need to take away your cookie, Ren? Phoebe isn't even here yet and you're already coming up with ways to sabotage her. Stop it." But Juliette was grinning.

  Gia showed up fifteen minutes later, right on time, breezing in on her long legs, her cheeks pink from the cold. "Don't you love it?" she asked, without preamble when she saw that Renata was already there. "I wish I was so brave. I'd look like a boy if I did that to my hair, but you? Oh my gosh, Rennie, you look like a super star! I can't wait til Phoebe gets here."

  Phoebe finally showed up almost fifteen minutes late. She crossed her arms and studied Renata, her head cocked to one side. A slow grin spread across her face.

  "Well, look at you. Did Judah get a hold of a pair of scissors while you napped?"

  Renata balked at first, but then took in the look on her sister's face. Phoebe was jealous! Of her! She grinned, and played along. "Yep. And you should have seen his hair when I was done with him."

  Phoebe obviously hadn't expected her to swing back; she could tell by the raised eyebrows and pursed lips. But her words were kind, even if they were a little forced. "I hope you paid him well." Then Phoebe hugged her tightly, much to Renata's surprise, and told her she looked beautiful.

  Phoebe didn't ask about John's reaction, but rather than making Renata relieved, it only made her wonder if Phoebe didn't care, or if she, of all her sisters, knew John best. The thought made butterflies of suspicion dance in her stomach for a moment.

  "Thank you. So. How about we get on with things?" She quickly changed the subject, refusing to acknowledge the butterflies, lest they morph into green-eyed giants.