by Amy Clipston
After a while, he eased her away, cupped her cheeks, and gently wiped away her tears. Then he brushed strands of loose hair from her face, his hands on her cheeks, his mouth close enough to kiss her. Ruth longed for his touch, but just when she thought he might kiss her, he only pulled her to his chest again, his hand on the back of her neck. Ruth wrapped her arms around him, clutching the back of his T-shirt, both of them crying.
Gideon kissed Ruth on the top of her head, which only made her cry harder. And they hadn’t even been to Grace’s room yet.
CHAPTER 7
Gideon wasn’t sure how much more he could take today. Ruth’s flushed cheeks and tearstained face implied the same. But as they stood outside Grace’s room hand in hand, Gideon squeezed, hoping to give her the strength he hadn’t been able to five years ago or five minutes ago.
He looked at her, and she nodded. Gideon grasped the doorknob and inched the door open. The sun had begun its descent, and its light and warmth filled the room. Dust bunnies danced atop the late-afternoon sunrays that filled the room. Gideon fought tears again as he remembered boxing up his daughter’s things.
“I’m sorry you had to do this alone.” Ruth pulled away from him and looked around the room. A tear rolled down her cheek. As in the other rooms, the furniture was covered with sheets, and boxes were along the wall.
“It’s okay.” Maybe it was the one thing that he’d spared his wife from.
Gideon closed his eyes and pictured Grace’s room as it had been. Some of her clothes hung from hooks along the rack on the far side of the room. Her rocking chair with her favorite faceless doll was in the corner. The bedspread Ruth had sewn and surprised Grace with on her tenth birthday was sage green with an ivory lace ruffle that met the wood floor on three sides.
Gideon sat on the bed and hoped he could keep his emotions in check.
Ruth shuffled to the rack where Grace’s clothes used to be, then she circled the room, touching the sheet-covered dresser, moving to the rocking chair, running her hand over the white covering. Gideon couldn’t stop watching her every movement, and even with her back to him, he knew she was also remembering the way their daughter’s room had looked.
She turned to face him. “Sometimes I-I forget what she looks like.” She hung her head, shaking it. “What kind of mother would forget her child’s face?”
Gideon offered a weak smile. “I see her every time I look at you.”
Ruth’s eyes clung to his. “I see her when I look at you too.” She looked away. “Back then, it was just too hard.”
Gideon walked to where she was standing near the window. “And now?”
Ruth held his gaze. “I still see her when I look at you, in your eyes.”
“Maybe it’s the reflection of yourself you see.” He smiled a little, which was nice to see again after the emotional afternoon they’d had.
Ruth froze in time, longing to move forward and terrified of moving backward. “We were so messed up during that time.” She kept her eyes on his, aware of the vulnerability he’d shown today and not wanting him to fall backward either. “But time does have a way of helping people look at things differently. And now, when I see her in your eyes, I don’t want to run away. I want to embrace the good memories and make new ones.”
Gideon nodded. “I went to counseling for a while, and it helped. But I’ve always felt like I needed closure for two things. Asking you to forgive me and coming back here.”
Ruth was glad to hear that Gideon had gone to a therapist. Her support group had helped her survive those first months in Florida and steadied her when the grief became overwhelming. “Me too. And now, here we are, facing the last two things on our emotional bucket lists.”
He smiled as he stared out the window. “Do you remember when Grace was in her second year of school, and she carried a wounded bird into the classroom in her apron pocket?”
Ruth chuckled. “Yes. The bird got loose and all the students were screaming trying to catch it. I can still remember hearing about it for weeks later.”
They were quiet for a few moments, both seemingly lost in their memories.
Gideon cleared his throat. “I was thinking we’d sell the house with the furniture in it and just remove our personal belongings.” He glanced around the room. “We’ll have to go through these boxes.”
Ruth walked over to the rocker. She pulled the sheet off and was surprised to see Grace’s doll sitting there. “I’d like to have the rocking chair in our bedroom if it’s okay with you. Or I can take this one if you want the other one.”
He eyed the chair for a few moments. Or maybe it was the doll he was staring at. “I’m fine taking this one. It seems the rocking chairs should stay in the family since they belonged to each of our grandmothers.”
For a few seconds they sounded like a normal husband and wife just making decisions together. Ruth reminded herself that wasn’t the case as she picked up Grace’s doll and held it to her chest.
“I can think of one person who might enjoy this doll, someone who would treasure it even as she gets older. And I’m sure there are some other things in the nightstand. Remember that little red suitcase Grace kept under the bed with her trinkets in it?”
Gideon smiled. “I think Becky would like the doll, too, and yes, how could I forget the little red suitcase.”
She walked toward him and as they faced each other, Ruth still clutching the doll, she gazed into his eyes as a warm feeling swept over her.
They’d been so in love. Then, poof. Gone. Everything. Yet something was bubbling to the surface between them.
Ruth got on her knees by the bed and pulled out the red suitcase, clumps of dust and dirt coming out with it. She coughed, then hauled it onto the bed. She’d found the piece of luggage in her grandmother’s attic when she was about Grace’s age and later gave it to her daughter.
“Grace said she kept her private things in here. I almost feel like we’re trespassing. But we have to know what’s in it, right? I mean, there might be other things Becky might like, or that we want to keep.” Ruth sat on the bed, brushing the dust off the suitcase. Gideon sat on the other side of the suitcase.
“Yeah, I think we should open it.”
Neither moved. They each rested a hand on top of the worn piece of luggage. Finally, Gideon popped the latch and slowly lifted the lid.
Ruth carefully reached for a piece of white paper with three stick figures drawn on it, two tall, one small in the middle. Smiling, she said, “I remember when she drew this in her first year of school.” She ran a finger along the sketch. “I never knew she kept it.”
“Look at this.” Gideon chuckled as he held up a ticket from the county fair. “I remember this day like it was yesterday.”
“That was a great day.” Ruth reached for a small teddy bear. “You won her this shooting those play guns filled with water.” She laughed. “You weren’t very good. It probably cost you twenty dollars to win a five-dollar bear.”
“Be nice.” He winked at her. “Those guns were on wobbly stands, and probably that way on purpose.”
Ruth raised a shoulder and dropped it slowly. “If you say so, dear.” Her chest tightened as she raised her eyes to Gideon’s. “Sorry. Old habit.”
She’d always used the endearment playfully, and she was surprised how easily it slipped out. She lowered her gaze and set the teddy bear aside. “I think I’d like to keep this, if that’s okay with you.” When she looked at him again, he nodded.
They shuffled through more of Grace’s keepsakes, laughing, remembering, and treasuring each of their daughter’s prized possessions.
“This feels good. Talking about her. Remembering. Laughing.” Ruth shook her head. “Maybe we should have done this a long time ago.”
Gideon looked around the room before he stood. “Grace would want us to go on with our lives. She wouldn’t want us to be sad forever.”
A phone rang in the living room with an unfamiliar ringtone, so she knew it was Gideon’s.
“It’s probably a good thing it rang, or I might have forgotten it.”
Ruth glanced around Grace’s room, then took the doll and followed Gideon downstairs to the living room. He chuckled. “Now I just have to find it.”
Instead of looking for his phone when they reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned back toward Ruth. She didn’t jump when he cupped one of her cheeks, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. He lifted his other hand to her face as well.
“You are still as beautiful as ever.” He whispered the words as he tilted his head to one side. It had taken five years and a visit to their daughter’s room for her and Gideon to reconnect emotionally, but Ruth couldn’t deny the physical attraction still between them. They’d loved each other deeply for so many years.
She didn’t move when Gideon’s hands eased her closer. Ruth longed to feel his mouth on hers, a taste of the intimacy they’d shared as husband and wife. But just before his lips brushed against hers, Gideon’s phone beeped. It was sitting on the back of the couch close enough for Ruth to see the screen. Instinctively, her eyes darted toward the sound, and before she could look away her mind registered the words on the display.
Missed call from Cheryl. And below that was a text message. I miss you.
Ruth’s chest tightened and the doll slipped from her hand. Now she had a name to put with Gideon’s girlfriend, and she took a step away from him as he picked up the phone and glanced at the text. Ruth had almost done something horrible. She’d nearly kissed a man she no longer had a right to be with. Married or not, Gideon was involved with someone else.
Gideon looked up and walked toward her, his eyes widening in false innocence. “Ruth—”
“No.” Ruth shook her head, then she picked up the faceless doll. “You don’t owe me any explanations.” She bit her lip until she thought it might bleed. “I’m going to walk back to Esther’s.” She turned to leave, but Gideon grabbed her arm.
“It’s not what you think. It’s only been a few dates.”
She cringed at the word dates and fought the vision of Gideon in someone else’s arms. She shook loose of him and hurried to the front door. She didn’t turn around, even when he called out to her.
She’d barely made it out the door before she started to run.
Then the tears fell full force.
CHAPTER 8
Gideon sat in his truck and stared at the house where he, Grace, and Ruth had made so many happy memories. Then he looked down at his phone, thinking the timing couldn’t have been any worse. Was that God’s way of telling him that he and Ruth couldn’t go backward? Or maybe it was a reminder that, while Gideon wasn’t committed to Cheryl, he’d kissed her, more than once. He had only talked to her once since he arrived in Lancaster County to let her know he was safe. In Cheryl’s voice mail, she said she missed him.
He’d been about to kiss Ruth. Then how would he have felt about himself, especially after seeing Cheryl’s text and hearing her voice mail? He started his truck and slowly pulled out of the driveway.
By the time Gideon returned to his father’s house, he was barely able to contain his emotions, which were all over the place and strangling him. When he walked inside, his father straightened in his recliner and lowered the newspaper.
“How did things go today?” Gideon’s father removed his reading glasses.
Gideon pulled off his shoes at the door, although he didn’t see what the point was. The place was a wreck. A little shoe dirt would go unnoticed.
He walked to the couch, sat down, and sighed. “As good as could be expected, I guess.” It had been a long day packed with too much emotion. He and Ruth should have eased into things, maybe the cemetery today, visiting the house tomorrow, and so on. It was no wonder he was on emotional overload.
Since he’d been home, he thought about his mother a lot, too, and how much he missed her. Being back in the house he’d grown up in gave him comfort in some ways. Seeing his mother’s trinkets and things around the house brought back fond memories. But seeing how the house and his father had deteriorated made him regret he hadn’t visited sooner. Was this the way his father had processed his grief, by just shutting down? Would Gideon have ended up like his dad if he’d stayed?
His renewed affections for Ruth were causing his insides to swirl with confusion. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the good parts of the day, like the picnic with Becky and facing some of his fears. He’d been afraid to visit his daughter’s grave. Did God’s perfect timing have something to do with Ruth being there? He thought about the not-so-perfect timing of Cheryl’s call and sighed again.
He forced himself to push on and recalled the joy he’d found being with Ruth, laughing and sharing stories about Grace. And Becky had also been a bright light in the day. But even those precious moments were clouded with thoughts of Ruth and how she ran from him.
“I’m going to leave tomorrow.” Gideon leaned against the couch and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not going to stay for the reunion.”
His father stared at him. Gideon waited for him to talk him out of it. “I thought you said it went as gut as could be expected.”
Gideon shook his head before he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I don’t know what I expected.” He’d known it would be hard to visit Grace and the house. What he hadn’t anticipated was his rekindled feelings for Ruth.
In some ways, things had changed—geography, their jobs, they drove cars, and they lived with electricity. Their grief would always be present, but it seemed more manageable now. But they were the same in a lot of ways too. They’d both carried their faith with them and stayed true to the belief that everything is God’s will, even the most difficult experience of their lives.
Gideon could spin it a dozen different ways. Too much time had gone by to try to reclaim his life with Ruth. Had she wanted that? Not only did she think he was coming here to put the house on the market and visit his mother and Grace but was she hoping for a reconciliation after all these years? He shook his head and tried to clear his mind.
“I’m going to pay someone to clean up the house and do the repairs. I’m not sure it’s healthy for me to be here.” Gideon thought about how Ruth had left him to pack up everything five years ago. Now he’d be leaving her to go through it all. He didn’t feel good about that, but being around her and not being able to be with her the way he wanted to would be torture.
His father stared at him with questioning eyes. Part of Gideon wanted his father to talk him out of the decision. Probably just as much as Gideon wanted to scream at his father and tell him to start living again. But there seemed to be an unspoken respect that allowed a man to grieve however he saw fit.
Gideon turned around and shook his head. “There’s nothing here for me.” He started walking toward the front door. He needed to go outside and call Cheryl. Maybe if he heard her voice, he’d realize he missed her, too, and that going back to Ohio would allow him to see where things were headed with her.
“I’m here,” his father said softly.
Gideon slowly turned around, and the glassy-eyed look in his father’s eyes was almost enough to make him stay. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll visit more.” He wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not.
The old man’s bottom lip quivered.
Gideon wrote to his father often, checked to make sure he was keeping doctor appointments and taking his medication. He raised his shoulders, held them there for a while, then dropped them until his arms sagged on either side of him. It wasn’t until he processed the thought that he had to admit how little he had done for his father.
“I’m sorry I haven’t done more.” Gideon decided this day was never going to end, and the roller coaster of emotions caused a heaviness in his chest. As guilt about his father crept into the mix, he sat down on the couch, leaned his elbows to his knees, and held his head in his hands.
His father pressed his lips together as his chest rose and he took a deep breath.
“I enjoy the letters from you and Ruth, but I would still like to see you more.”
Gideon’s mouth fell open. He should have known Ruth would keep in touch with her father-in-law even if she didn’t visit.
“I’ll visit more often.” Gideon scratched his forehead, his eyes on his shoes, then he looked up at his father and knew that he wasn’t lying to the man. He would come to Lancaster County regularly.
“The last thing I want is for you to end up like me. But you are well on your way if you don’t do a little soul searching while you’re here.”
“Soul searching? I came here to visit my daughter’s grave. I forced myself to go into her room today, to go through her things. I spent the day with the woman I still love.” He looked up at his father, who raised an eyebrow. “How can that even be true after so much time has passed?”
His father looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders. “Why can’t it be true? With the exception of me and your mudder, I don’t think I’ve ever known two people more in leib than you and Ruth. Even after twelve years of marriage, you carried on like giddy teenagers. You might be able to make a gut life for yourself where you live now.” He held up a finger. “But is it the best life, the one Gott planned for you?”
Gideon’s heart hurt on so many levels. No wonder he hadn’t come home sooner. He looked at the ceiling, filled his lungs with musty air, then blew it out slowly. “Daed . . .” He spoke softly. “Are you living the life God planned out for you? Not going to church. Bitter all of the time.” He waved a hand around the living room. “Living like this.”
His father stared at him for several moments. “Nee, Gideon. I am not. And that is my burden to bear. But a parent doesn’t want to see his or her child end up in such a state.” His father hung his head before he looked back up at Gideon, his eyes moist. Then his father left and closed the door to his bedroom behind him.
Gideon just sat there and held his throbbing head. It was too late for him and Ruth, no matter what kind of hormones were acting up when they were around each other. Too much time had gone by. He squeezed his eyes together, and he could see her sitting next to him in Grace’s room and the way she ran from him, maybe scared of what she was experiencing, like Gideon.
