Phoebe swept through the living room and out the back door, her melodic voice calling out a greeting to the guys. Renata sighed. Her type or not, Tim might be good for Phoebe. He might be just what her wayward sister needed to settle down and grow up a little. He was a solid, godly man, someone so different than the fly-by-night younger men she always had on her arm, and as a skilled carpenter, he was an artist in his own rights. Not only would he be a good thing in Phoebe's life, but if the two of them got together, it would keep Tim in the boys' lives, too.
Could she handle seeing Phoebe and Tim together? The thought of it made her chest hurt. Bracing both hands on the counter, she dropped her chin to her chest, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth.
Lamaze. She hadn't even thought about that yet. She remembered all the techniques, but a brush-up wouldn't be a bad thing. She'd have a new partner this time and she'd have to choose someone soon so they could do the classes together, but how to choose one sister over the other without hurting feelings was impossible.
"Who's going to help us, sweetie pie?" It was almost a moan. "Who will be there for us?"
"Renata? You all right?"
Her eyes flew open, her hand going to her chest in surprise. "Oh! Tim! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."
He crossed the room quickly and peered down at her, reaching out to put a hand on her arm, then withdrawing it quickly. "Do you need to sit down?"
"I'm fine. Just taking a breather. You know, in through the nose, out through the mouth," she replied, smirking at her terrible joke. Tim was clearly concerned.
"You look a little pale. Maybe you should sit. Do you need a glass of water?"
"I'm fine, Tim. Really." She shrugged and picked up the spoon she'd been using to stir her ingredients. "I was just thinking about the future, that's all. I know it's going to be hard for awhile. Maybe for a long while. But we're going to be okay, I know that, too." Glancing up at him, she gave him a wry smile. "I just get a little overwhelmed sometimes."
A look of such compassion crossed his features that it brought tears to her eyes. He did touch her then, his hand on her bicep, stroking her arm from shoulder to elbow, his work-hardened hands rough against her skin. "I'm not going anywhere, Renata."
"I know," she murmured, taking a step back so he was no longer touching her. "You already said that. But you should. I mean, you need your own life, Tim." She turned her gaze to the sliding glass door that led out back. She could see Phoebe pushing Judah on the swing, laughing at something one of the boys said. "What about Phoebe? Maybe you should ask her out."
Tim laughed low and gentle. "What is it with you trying to set me up with your sisters?"
It was her turn to chuckle. "Yeah, that last one didn't work out so well, did it?" She turned to face him then, arms crossed over her chest, emphasizing the baby bump she now sported proudly in a snug knit tunic with a pair of leggings. His eyes went to her belly and lingered there, that same look of longing on his face. Baby D kicked in reaction to Renata's pulse speeding up.
Suddenly, she reached for his hand where it rested on the counter, and without looking at him for fear she'd lose her nerve, with both her hands over his, she pressed his palm to the curve of her belly just under her ribcage. She could feel every muscle in his forearm bunch in resistance, but she said, "Sh. It's okay." The words didn't make sense, really, but her tone was soothing, the same one she used when trying to calm one of her boys. "She's a busy girl right now. Just wait."
They stood that way for several moments, neither moving, not even breathing. Just waiting. And there it was. A series of quick bumps against his hand. His fingers tightened reflexively over her stomach and she heard his sharp intake of breath. She lifted her eyes to his, smiling proudly over her baby's performance.
His look of pure wonder made her a little dizzy. She glanced away, unable to bear whatever it was she saw in his eyes, and looked out at the back yard.
Phoebe stood at the sliding glass door, her fingers wrapped around the handle preparing to slide it open. Her eyes were wide, one eyebrow arched, her perfect mouth slightly open in question. Renata lifted both hands from Tim's, but his stayed there, curved around the slope of her stomach. She took a tiny step back and it slid away, his fingers closing around empty air into a tight fist between them, as though holding tight to the miracle he’d just experienced.
"It's Phoebe." She whispered a warning just as the door opened. Why did this feel so reminiscent of the day Phoebe caught Renata and Brad kissing all those years ago?
"Hey, you two. Is Baby D kicking? Can I feel?" Phoebe crossed the living room to where they stood, her hands extended toward Renata's belly. "Hello, little girl! It's your Auntie Phebes. Kick twice if you love me," she cooed as she rested both hands where Tim's large one had been only moments before.
Renata sighed, the intimacy of the moment evaporating, and pressed down on Phoebe's hand to nudge the baby, who was still quite active inside her.
"Ooh! I felt her!" Phoebe voiced her excitement, but when she lifted her eyes to Renata's, they were filled with questions clearly not about the baby.
Tim headed out through the garage without another word, Phoebe's eyes following him. Then she turned back to Renata.
"So, did I interrupt something?"
"He was feeling the baby move, Phoebe. Just like you are." Renata rolled her eyes and pulled away from Phoebe's hands.
"Um, no. Not just like I was," Phoebe contradicted. "I saw his face. I don't believe I've ever looked at you that way. That’d be sick and wrong." She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. "He's been spending a lot of time here, according to the boys. You two getting a little…friendly?"
Renata ever so carefully lay down the spoon she'd picked up and narrowed her eyes at Phoebe. "No." Then she turned and stalked to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
When she came out about an hour later, the house was curiously quiet. There was a note on her counter from Phoebe. Took the boys to the grandparents for dinner. Told them you weren't feeling well. We'll be back by 8. Sorry for being a jerk. Love you. P
There was also a text on her phone from Tim. Boys with Phoebe for dinner. See you in the morning at 7. Sorry for bailing - still lots to do tonight. Tim.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Tim pulled in at seven o'clock a.m. on the button, his truck bed loaded and tarped for the road. The boys were just sitting down for a breakfast of scrambled eggs, homemade hash browns, and turkey bacon, and Renata insisted he join them.
She didn't eat much before ten o'clock. Even though she rarely suffered from full-on morning sickness anymore, her tummy still felt a little unsettled in the mornings. She had a cup of Greek yogurt topped with a handful of blueberries and some leftover granola from the bars she'd made yesterday.
Tim said nothing about the way things ended last night, so Renata didn't either, but both of them were much more reserved than usual.
They all used the bathroom one more time, gathered in a circle and prayed for safety and fun for the boys and lots of peace and quiet for Renata, and then they were gone.
Instead of asking for company, Renata decided this was going to be her weekend to find her courage. If things got too tough, she could always call someone or go to Granny G's place for the night. It was time to rearrange her bedroom to accommodate a baby and all the paraphernalia that came with one.
She might even work up the courage to go through John's side of the closet and get rid of some of his things. The boys had already gone in and pulled out a few of their favorite items, including a pair of dress shoes Judah insisted he wanted. She had no idea what he planned to do with them, but he had hugged them tightly to his chest, demanding she let him have them forever and ever.
Maybe she'd go to church on Sunday. She hadn't been since the funeral, and even though her freezer still held remnants of the meals the prayer group had so faithfully delivered for that f
irst month, she hadn't been able to bring herself to go without John. Her grandparents took the boys with them but never pressured her to go, and for that, she was grateful. But with no one to worry about getting ready but herself, it seemed like the timing was right. She could show up late, sit near the back, and slip out early if she felt the need.
When the troops got back Sunday night, she'd have Tim pull the crib down from the attic for her before he went home.
Renata did great all day Thursday. When Juliette called to check on her, Renata beamed as she told her sister about the progress she'd made. After a cool shower, she watched a Jane Austen movie, one she'd never get away with if the boys were home, then went to bed, too exhausted to feel sorry for herself being alone. She fell asleep singing to Baby D.
Renata did great all day Friday. She mourned her way through John's side of the closet, boxing most of his clothes up and carting the stuff out to the garage. She wasn't quite ready to take everything to the thrift store yet, but she organized the boxes neatly in the back of John's truck where no one would stumble across them and ask questions. But when dinner rolled around and she sat in front of the television with a chicken salad sandwich and her yogurt and fruit, she felt such a longing for companionship that she could hardly eat.
In a fit of despair, she slipped out to the garage, opened one of the boxes, and dug around until she found John's shirt from Phoebe. She pulled it out, brought it to her face, and breathed him in before slipping it on over the tank top she had on. He'd worn it the night before his fall and she hadn't washed it.
She had tossed her own shirt from Phoebe in with his when she'd packed the box, and it now mocked her cruelly from the jumbled contents, almost as though it had been a portent of things to come. Hunting Widow. She closed the flaps with a sob and left the garage.
She resisted the urge to call Tim and check on the boys, and rather than a rom-com or drama that would make her ache for John, she pulled out Tomb Raider, a favorite movie of his. He had a not-so-secret thing for Angelina Jolie, but Renata didn't mind. The woman made a perfect Lara Croft and these movies had motivated Renata to get back in shape after every pregnancy.
She went to bed crying anyway, missing her husband, missing her boys. Missing Tim and their Friday night desserts. She knew the Holy Spirit was there with her, but she had a difficult time finding any peace.
Renata did all right on Saturday, but every car that drove by had her lifting her head to see if it was them, hoping they'd come home a day early. Harry and Sally seemed to sense her disquiet and stayed close on her heels all morning. She finally banished them to the back yard, lest she trip over one of them and hurt herself. By three o'clock, she had a headache that wouldn't let up, so she lay down with one of the romance novels she'd found in a shoe box while organizing her side of the closet today.
After John's death, she had rounded up all her novels and sent them with Gia to the thrift store. She'd determined there was no such thing as a happily-ever-after for her and she didn't want to read about anyone else's, either.
Somehow she'd missed this box, though, and now, as she poured over the books, she started to see them the way John did. He laughed about them, but his words rang with truth now that she wasn't busy defending her addiction to him. On every cover was a man with an open shirt, an undershirt, or no shirt at all, and every woman seemed to be wearing dresses that were difficult to keep on. Even the covers where everyone was fully clothed the models were disproportionately endowed, leaving little to the imagination. In all the years Renata had been married to John, they'd never once pressed together in the positions the models did on these covers, not even in the most passionate, intimate of moments.
For whatever reason, Ella Robbins couldn't hold her attention tonight. She sighed, tucked the books back inside the shoebox and set it on the floor. It would go out to the truck with the rest of them.
Instead, she picked up John's Bible from his night stand, and turned to Psalm 91, the passage Tim had read aloud in the hospital. She'd read it over so many times, she had it memorized, but somehow seeing the words on the page made them feel more authentic, as though they were a direct connection to God, to her husband, to those last minutes she'd spent with him. She was so glad their last words to each other had been of love.
"Thank you, Lord, for letting me get there in time to say goodbye. And for letting Tim get there in time, too." She felt a small fissure of guilt creeping in as she thought about Tim.
At first, she tried to ignore it. Then she tried to embrace it so she could feel ashamed for thinking of him. But as she lay there in the stillness of this room that had been her sanctuary for so much of her life, she began to unwrap her feelings about him honestly. Who was here to judge her but herself? And it wasn't as though God didn't already know the struggle she was going through.
She'd known Tim almost as long as John had. The two men had met on a job and become fast friends. She trusted him more than any other man she knew, other than Grandpa. Good grief, she'd sent her boys off camping with him, something she wouldn't even feel comfortable doing with Juliette's police boyfriend yet. She knew he was a committed believer—he and John studied the Bible together faithfully.
As a skilled carpenter, Tim had a reputation in the business for doing beautiful cabinetry and his clients loved and respected him. He often turned away work because he was so busy. He also did custom projects on the side, mostly furniture; his favorite pieces were dining room sets, and the few she'd seen before he delivered them to their happy owners were stunning.
She knew very little about his years in the war; he simply didn't talk about it, ever. She'd asked John once if he knew. Her husband had told her he did, but that Tim had trusted him not to tell her unless she insisted on knowing. "He doesn't want to be the reason I keep secrets from you," John had explained. "So he's okay if I do tell you. But it is his business, and I'd like to respect his wishes if you're okay with it." She'd agreed, even though she'd been riddled with curiosity. Over time, however, it had stopped mattering.
He had a close family stemming from up in the Sacramento region. Both his parents were still alive and well and fairly well-off, to boot. His younger sister lived with her husband and children close to the parents, but Tim ended up in Midtown after his service term was up. He'd somehow made connections in the area and had chosen to make it his home away from home. He had an older brother who traveled a lot with his job, but he was based out of the Los Angeles area, so Tim saw him several times a year. He was a recruiter for one of the L.A. sports teams, and although Renata had never met him, if he was built anything like Tim, he was probably an athlete himself, too.
Tim was respectful, thoughtful, and honest. He treated everyone with dignity, even her boys. He had been the best of friends to John while he was alive, like brothers, and now, in her husband’s absence, Tim was doing his best to continue being the same kind of friend to John by looking after John’s widow and unborn child, and covering the gaping holes left by the loss of a father in the boys’ lives.
If Renata was being honest with herself, she was beginning to lean on Tim to cover the gaping holes left by the loss of a husband, too.
But what did she have to offer Tim? Another man's ready-made family? Her heart that would always belong in a small way to John? No money to speak of, except for what they'd live on for the next few years, if she was careful. A woman quick to pass judgment and even quicker to worry about the judgment of others. And a new baby on the way.
It was too much to ask of him. Too much to expect him to consider.
She would have to talk to him when they got back, and soon. This needed to stop. She couldn't let it go on any longer or the boys would be devastated when he got tired of playing surrogate dad and moved on.
Who was she kidding? She would be devastated when Tim got tired of them and moved on.
But she couldn't see past him to a life without him in it. She didn't want to see her life without him.
~ ~ ~
Renata did attend church on Sunday, but she went to the early morning service where she'd see few people she knew, if any. She didn't sleep well Saturday night. The house was too quiet, too still. Even Baby D seemed to want to take the night off from keeping Renata company and no amount of poking and nudging her belly would garner so much as a push back. So when Renata woke up with the morning sun, she didn't even bother trying to get back to sleep, but instead, got up and went to church.
Baby D got all excited about the music and by the time Renata left the service, she was in better spirits and looking forward to whipping up something fun for the boys to eat when they got home. They were probably tired of camping food by now, so she'd have to think of something special. Maybe just her crock pot spaghetti and gigantic meatballs. The boys loved the meal, and she was pretty sure it would be a winner with Tim, too.
Would he stay for dinner?
She got things started, took the dogs for a walk around the block, then headed over to her grandparents' for the family meal.
As she sat in her place at the table, Juliette and Victor across from her, Gia and her best friend, Zack, who joined them for many a family meal, Phoebe, Granny G and Grandpa, she listened to the ebb and flow of life around her. She realized that although being without John beside her felt awfully unbalanced in so many ways, a new rhythm was beginning to envelop her, one she thought she might be able to move with. It would take some getting used to, but she wasn't a quitter. And once she freed Tim to go live his own life, she and the kids would need this bunch more than ever.
"You guys," she said, interrupting a few conversations going on around her, suddenly anxious to let them know what was in her heart. "I just want you to know how grateful I am for each one of you. For everything you've done for me and the boys and Baby D over these last several months." She began to tear up a little, her emotions rising to the surface. "I have the best family in the whole world. I don't want another day to go by without telling you that I know how fortunate I am to be a part of this motley crew. Thank you for not giving up on me."
Renata and the Fall from Grace Page 22
